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Middle-school halls felt small, even when empty at half past three in the afternoon. Kaiba could hear the familiar commotion of children tidying up after their classes, chairs and desks scooted about while the floors were scrubbed and whiteboards wiped down for the next day.
It was a task every student did every day, without fail, and he had the pleasure to know that Mokuba was always one of the ‘every’.
Except today.
Today, Mokuba sat outside the headmaster’s office, legs swinging and hair a mess, hiding his face as he hung his head. No doubt having heard his older brother’s gait all the way down the hall. Kaiba passed him by without a word, entering into the office and being escorted back.
“G-good afternoon, Kaiba-san,” a small, stout woman said. She stood just beside a much meatier man, who Kaiba regarded as the headmaster. He was offered a seat, but didn’t take it, choosing instead to place a hand on the back of the chair. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“I was told this was urgent.”
Both of them regarded the young executive, with his rigid posture and unflinching face, trying to read him and gather themselves before going deeper into this. He neither seemed alarmed nor calm. Angry nor impatient. They could only conclude that he wasn’t indifferent. His eyes never strayed from the pair, watching them with a knowing severity. They had accomplished something impossible for a man of Kaiba’s caliber: they had his full and absolute attention, as if nothing else in the world existed besides this place and this moment. It was almost frightening.
It wasn’t until Kaiba’s jaw ticked, just a fraction of a motion, that the headmaster began: “There was an incident that’s happened in sixth period that needed to be addressed regarding Mokuba and a fellow student.”
“Incident,” Kaiba repeated. “Of what kind?”
“He...bit another student.”
They waited for outrage, disgust, or contempt out of Kaiba, and left the air quiet for him to contemplate the statement.
“Is that all?” Kaiba asked, unimpressed.
“N-no Kaiba-san but we figured that was the most important of it,” the stout woman said.
“I’d rather be told the entire story than what you say is ‘important’. What else happened?”
“Kaiba-san, first we need to ask where he might have picked up this behaviour—-“
“What. Else. Happened.” It wasn’t a question.
The stout woman, who Kaiba could only conclude was the teacher and witness, folded her hands together and cleared her throat. “There was some commotion going on in the back of the classroom. When I got back there, Mokuba and the other child were wrestling around on the ground, and Mokuba had bit the kid on top of him.”
“‘On top of him’,” Kaiba repeated. The woman became flustered, and tried to find words. “Did he fight back in any other way?”
“Not so far as we know,” the headmaster said. “Which makes this easier on him. But it’s still so out of character for Mokuba.” The woman was nodding rapidly in agreement.
“What started it?” Kaiba asked.
“I’m sorry, Kaiba-san?”
“What instigated the fight? Why did this happen?” He clarified, speaking a little slower. The impregnable gaze would only leave the teacher’s eyes for the headmaster.
The teacher picked up a small square that was set behind them on a filing cabinet. She flipped it over, revealing the whiteboard face with different scrawls of kanji, half of it wipe by a small hand. But he could see some of the words. Kaiba took hold of it, scanning the words.
....mother
....like a brother.
Guess who has one,
But not the other?
Kaiba withheld the sigh, and he could tell which lines looked like Mokuba’s handwriting and which was someone else’s.
“We we’re practicing couplets,” the teacher explained. “I had put them in groups of two, and they were meant to complete each other’s poems.”
The whiteboard was handed back, and Kaiba rested his hands on the top of the chair again. “He told you his side?”
“Of course,” the headmaster said. “But fighting like this, especially with the biting, is calls for three day’s suspension and....”
“Was he defending himself?” Kaiba interjected.
The headmaster gathered words. “Well, we’re not one hundred percent sure. He says he was. But that doesn’t change the punishment.”
“I see,” Kaiba replied. “Is there anything else? Or is he free to leave?”
“Well, we’d very much like to discuss the seriousness of this behaviour, Kaiba-san, we...!”
“This will be handled. By me,” Kaiba said. and gave them a curt bow of the head, turning on the heel to leave with the headmaster speechless as he did. When the door closed, the pair were still a little awestruck, though relieved the severe eyes were no longer locked on them. It could have gone much worse.
Outside, Mokuba looked up from beneath his bangs, and then jumped out the chair. “Nii-sama?”
“We’re going home.”
“Oh,” Mokuba scooped up his bookbag and threw it over his shoulder. “Okay.”
The silence as they walked in the halls made Mokuba cast questioning looks. Kaiba didn’t seem angry, but he was hard to read at the moment, even for Mokuba. Nearing the doors, Kaiba said: “I’m disappointed in you.”
Mokuba’s face fell. Such fatal words. “I’m sorry, nii-sama.”
“Why are you apologising?”
Mokuba blinked. “For...for getting into a fight.”
“Did you start the fight?”
“What? No! Did they tell you I did?” Mokuba asked. He walked ahead, just enough to catch Kaiba’s face, and then fell back to shuffling by his side.
“I want you to tell me.”
Mokuba wasn’t sure where it start, or what to say. It kept pulsating in his head that his brother was disappointed.
Mokuba slipped into the passenger side of the car. “We were writing poems. And I was stuck with Tano. And he...wrote something stupid and mean, so I told him to stop being a jerk. He hit me, so I pushed him. After a second, we were on the ground and...”
The car was already out of the lot and heading down the street. A deadpanned response: “You bit him.”
“Yeah. He’s always such a bully,” Mokuba side-eyed his brother, to see Kaiba’s expression was still so statuesque. “So I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t start the fight; you defended yourself. The consequences are moot, that’s the school’s punishment, not mine. Nor is the suspension why I’m disappointed. I’m disappointed because you were so underhanded about it.”
Mokuba furrowed his brows, and he leaned his head to the side to gauge his brother’s expression, still, completely unchanged. “What, biting him?”
“Yes. You know better. A fight is a fight. That, I can’t be angry at you for. It would be stupid to just let somebody hurt you. But you’re smart enough, and have been taught enough, to also make it fair.”
Mokuba looked down to his knees, and while he was grumbling, he knew that Kaiba was right. He still countered with: “Yeah, well, after I told him to stop he said ‘bite me’. So I did, since he always says it’s and it’s always annoying.”
Mokuba was folded over his bookbag and sighing when he heard something, light and mirthful, that he wished he heard more often. Kaiba tried desperately to hide his laughter, with a smile hoarded away tightly on his cheeks. Mokuba pressed his face into his bookbag, not sure if he should be laughing also.
Because Kaiba was still disappointed, and hurt so much worse than any other punishment. His nii-sama’s disappointment was the punishment, with not another word uttered on the matter for the rest of the ride home.
And Mokuba knew that all too well.