Work Text:
During summer break, when Mokuba wasn’t helping at KaibaCorp, he wasn’t in the house either. He galavanted through the sprawling backyard, ducking around trees and stalking through knee high grass that hugged the wall.
He followed the sounds of cicadas chirping, a bug net rested on his shoulder, a small, clear bug enclosure in the other. He wasn’t afraid to poke at any bee hives that had formed on the grounds before a groundskeeper had them taken down.
Exploration continued into dusk, when fireflies twinkled in the trees. There was a small jar on his hip for that. They would be captured, sat on Kaiba’s home office desk, and often let out by his older brother in the morning.
It was only around eight in the evening when he was stopped, typically by a text, beckoning him back in so he wouldn’t miss dinner with his older brother.
When a call came in the middle of trying to grab a small beetle on a fallen log, prime picking after a heavy summer rain the day before, he was quick to shoulder the phone while running and gripping his net in both hands, the beetle skittering away.
“You scared it away!” Mokuba cried, having tried to plop the bug net down and missing.
“I’m...sorry?” Kaiba replied. “I just wanted to let you know I’m not making it home tonight.”
Mokuba’s back straightened. He hadn’t realised that sun was just about to go down. “Oh. Is everything okay?”
“No. Most of the European disk servers are down right now, and they’re about to start a tournament.”
“Bug in the satellite relay?” Mokuba asked. He was already walking towards the house when Kaiba gave a non-committal noise, not admitting that he wasn’t sure. “Want me to have Isono drive me in?”
“No, not this time. Stay home. It’s late.”
“Don’t work too hard, nii-sama,” Mokuba said. Arguments were futile. He was stopped in the middle of the field and looked up at the emerging fireflies.
“No promises. Make sure you eat.” Kaiba said.
Mokuba blew a raspberry, laughing. “Says the hypocrite. You eat!”
They said their good-byes, and Mokuba turned back to searching for the beetle, knowing he now had all the time in the world.
—
Come eight in the morning, when the problem was solved, Kaiba was beginning to have the feeling that his eyes were made of sand from staring at the computer code.
A blood-curdling shriek, coming from his freshly arriving secretary, came from just outside Kaiba’s office door. It woke him up more than any caffeine could have.
Kaiba poked his head out the door, seeing his secretary standing on her chair. In the middle of her desk was a small plastic enclosure with a green lid. A moth fluttered about inside it.
“Morning, Seto.” Mokuba came around the corner from the bathroom, Isono in tow, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
“Good morning.”
“Get that thing away! Get it away!” The secretary cried, jumping down from her chair and hiding behind it.
“Calm yourself, Ebi-san,” Isono said, reading the frustration on Kaiba’s face, sparing her from more choice words.
Lifting the small container, Kaiba could only smirk. He asked to Mokuba: “Are we being on the nose this morning?”
“....maybe?” Mokuba replied. *
“I expect no less,” Kaiba deadpanned, and he took the container with him. Mokuba followed into the office, but hung by the door.
“And you ran off my beetle last night.”
“Ah...and there’s the motive to scare Ebi,” Kaiba said. The container was set on his desk.
“I would’ve put him in here, but bugs don’t scare you.”
“What’s to be afraid of, digital or otherwise?” Kaiba asked. He eyed the moth curiously. “Where’s the rest of them?”
Mokuba’s eyes widened a bit, and he cracked a smile. “Rest of what?”
“The bugs you spent all last night digging up. You don’t come in to work at eight AM after I’ve been here all night to just—“
Another scream came from the secretary. Mokuba just kept smiling. “Under her desk,” he replied.
Kaiba sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Well, he was awake now. “Go get them.”
“I’m not in trouble?”
“Now, Mokuba.”
“Okay. And I’ll grab you coffee. Pleasedontgroundme. Love you bye!”
The boy zipped out the door, and Kaiba rested his cheek on his hand, staring at the moth still fluttering about, trying very hard not to laugh.