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The holiday season was rough on the Kaiba household. Other times of the year, Kaiba compromised to come home at a decent hour so they could have dinner together. Not in the month or so leading up to Christmas. Mokuba was lucky to see his brother a scant few minutes in the morning, with dark splotches around his eyes and exhaustion weighed on his shoulders.
On top of it all, the snow had started early this year. It packed heavy in late November. Sometimes, Mokuba didn’t even know what time his brother made it home on the bad days. He was already asleep, if and when, the front door would open.
There was no complaints from the elder Kaiba. And he asked no more duty from Mokuba than the VP already performed. The days blended together. Kaiba would leave the house at seven and come back close to eleven or twelve. His coat rarely made it onto the rack. The briefcase never made it to the office. He would trudge upstairs and stop in Mokuba’s bedroom on the way to his own. The covers were inched back, fingers run through the mess of hair. Sometimes the troll would wake and demand a hug, sometimes it would burrow back into the blankets.
Every morning, Mokuba asked the same question: “What did you eat last night?” Sometimes there wasn’t a response, just a glance from under heavy eyelids. Which prompted: “Did you eat last night, nii-sama?”
Kaiba would hide his mouth behind the rim of his coffee mug. Mokuba would smack him on the wrist.
Their days would continue on. And Mokuba’s concern drew to the point having to do something, even when Kaiba asked nothing from him.
On a rough night, when it would have been more advisable to sleep in the office than try and drive home in heavy snow, Kaiba forced himself just so he could get to the comfort of home and say goodnight to Mokuba. It was past one AM. His coat was dropped on the floor, the briefcase beside it. He started for the stairs, but paused to an unfamiliar smell in the house.
A brief swerve to the kitchen. Under dim light, set on the center of the island, a bowl of soup laid out. A note written in Mokuba’s scrawl was on a folded card in front of it:
Please eat me.
And heat me up, too!
The latter part wasn’t about to be obeyed, but Kaiba was amused enough to pick up the bowl and take a bite.
Kaiba’s wrist covered his mouth, holding in the bite he had taken. Salt. Water for broth. The noodles were about the only alright part...which had him hovering over the sink about to pour the bowl out.
A pot laid haphazard in the sink, along with a mess of ingredients around it that hadn’t been put away. Kaiba tilted the bowl back towards himself and sighed, raking the spoon through it.
Mokuba had really outdid himself this time.
“From your heart to my soul,” Kaiba said, the bowl raised like a toast. The broth was drained quickly, with tears prickled in his eyes. The rest of it was inhaled, he went upstairs to Mokuba’s room and peeled back the covers.
The troll latched to him and hugged tight. “D’jeet?”
“Yeah, thank you.”
Mokuba giggled, a pointer finger pushed into Kaiba’s chest. “Good. More...’morrow.” The troll curled back into the nest of blankets.
More tomorrow.
Another reason to make it home, even in the snow.