Overflow (pt. 1 of 2)
When someone in the company was terminated for reasons related to the two of them, they made it a point to be present. These people were, at least structurally, in a sub-branch of Mokuba's department; he was obligated to be there.
Those two men were the reason why pictures had been snapped on his birthday.
The moment he stepped foot into the office again, he was on it. Seto didn't have to ask. There was no excuse, really, as to why anyone should have known that they were going to be there in the first place. Even if there were only three photographers there, that was three too many. Typically they didn't have to worry about things like that. The Kaiba brothers were a large part of the infrastructure in Domino, via KaibaCorp; their presence wasn't special unless there was some event going on, or there was a particularly slow news day. They didn't go out of their way to hide; it was unnecessary. This was their city.
Sometimes when they visited places word would get out. Fans would update their Twitters or Snapchats and upload videos. There would be a small crowd waiting when they left. Questions about their company's latest project or some rumor they heard about the city's development was usually what they dealt with.
Not the salacious headlines involving them right now; nothing about Seto's love life, certainly.
All in all, things wasn't as bad as they could have been. KaibaCorp's hand in the media was very useful for cleaning up problems like these. Everyone involved was facing disciplinary action. Nothing more would be mentioned in print about the fact that the two of them had met with Ishizu Ishtar for dinner that night. But it was a hassle. No one really wanted to give up the story because it was interesting. The Great Seto Kaiba wasn't usually seen with company in general, let alone a woman. If any lesser company had been in this situation, their influence wouldn't have been enough.
And Seto wasn't off the hook for this, either. Mokuba had expressed many times (even that night in particular) that it wasn't a good idea to leave the house without establishing a plan of action. It was important to know how they wanted to handle a situation like this, how they would present themselves. As per usual, Seto wasn't concerned with specifics. He seemed to be unaware that glowering wasn't a full-proof way to sway others into doing what he wanted.
It had taken a little over two weeks to figure out how it had been done. Mokuba issued a warning and potential amnesty for those coming forward about the incident. No one had. A few of their employees, in private, expressed wishing that they did know; they were afraid that if the culprits weren't caught, they would all be laid off.
That was, of course, precisely what Seto wanted to do.
The atmosphere in PR as a whole was wary. Quiet. People weren't sure who to trust, with someone risking this big a fuck up. Mokuba was a bit more rational. He didn't like working in that environment, and he had some good people under him. The extra work was worth it to keep everyone else together.
As always with media contacts, that side was the least regulated. Most outlets did whatever they could to get attention when it wouldn't get them in trouble. Having a chat with the photographers - and their employers, more importantly - revealed who had initially been tipped off. Mokuba had to admit that on their side of things, these two employees were smarter than most. No one met in person. None of the transactions occurred anywhere near KaibaCorp grounds. Communication carried out on personal phones, with new and clean email accounts.
They seemed to have forgotten, however, that certain portions of Domino had Wi-Fi hotspots sponsored by their employers. It was a long shot to have considered it, but Mokuba prided himself on overturning every stone possible. Two long weeks of parsing through data, of longer nights and a few all-nighters at that; of him locked in his office, combing through for matches on numbers, email service IPs and other bits of cell phone client data. But he'd found them.
It wouldn't have taken Seto so long. Mokuba was rusty on his networking skills. That wasn't his department, and there probably was an easier way. But he wanted to prove to his brother that he could do it without help.
He was just as unhappy as the two men packing up their desks. This wasn't work he liked. He would have rather been at home, bundled up with Yami for the last couple weeks. Sleep was a thing he liked; not taking work home was even better.
He wasn't sure if he liked coffee anymore. Triple espressos were a minimum requirement to keep him awake, now. Several times he'd had to start searches over, mind too adled to recall exactly where he'd left off while pursuing a thought or even when taking a bathroom break. It went without saying, that everything would have been much better if they had simply not done this at all. There was a new appreciation for what Seto did on a regular basis, that was for sure.
All that work, but it didn't seem that the two guys were going to leave quietly. They were all objections and lies at first.
Mokuba was the only one who spoke to them. He didn't want anyone thinking that he was the younger, and softer, brother. More personable, certainly. But one did not denote the other. This was a rare chance to establish the difference.
It was a dilemma that he had struggled with addressing for a long time. He was always the brother that people tried to take advantage of, the one others attempted to seduce and coerce. They felt that, because he could and would feel, that he was suspectible. He couldn't really be a Kaiba, right? When people thought of their name, they thought of Seto, not of the child often seen at his side; not of the well-dressed and well-mannered man presenting his brother's terms. They were associated with ruthlessness, cutthroat honesty and severe consequences.
But that didn't always make for good business. Those approaches only worked well when everything was done in-house. When Seto was working alone; he wasn't good on a team. When collaborations were necessary, someone had to be be reasonable. And Mokuba was pegged as weaker for it.
Either a person used their power or they didn't. That was a lesson he'd picked up over recent months, with Yami. Whatever kindnesses a person may offer, it would always be belied by how strictly they wielded their title. It was an undercurrent that permeated everything, he'd learned. Even when the two of them weren't actively participating in anything, sometimes Mokuba felt it - the anticipation, expectation that authority could be called upon at any time. There was no on or off switch for most people. Most were led to see in black-and-white, in extremes. Anything in between was pushed into one category or another. And that applied to his work as well.
Seto had taught him those things, but Mokuba often refused to put those lessons to use.
He preferred subtle manipulations. Peripheral measures that people obeyed because they still felt in control. Deception was in itself the problem, however: being deceptive left the target feeling as though they were in fact in control of things. It worked rather well for resources that needed to be reused; a personalized method, rather than one that reached and gripped others by way of intimidation. Truly effective manipulation was custom-tailored and enduring. A tool could not be of service again if it was broken.
But this day at least, Seto was right. Mokuba realized that in situations like these, he would have to be his full capability to set an example. Brute force was neccessary. So he was cruel because he could be. The two offenders were fired in front of their peers. Their arguments were shut down by fact and no words were spared. It was a wholly different experience from when he was younger. There was no doubt about what needed to be said, or why.
Mokuba let them know exactly why it was happening that way: they took advantage of they fact that those managing sensitive information were nearby; they took advantage of the fact that he didn't like being an enigma to those who worked for him; they took advantage of the fact that it was a man's birthday, and exploited it for their own gain. Finding them wasted valuable time that could have been better spent elsewhere. They had been given opportunity to come forward - and anyone who knew would have turned them in, if it were possible.
The two of them put the jobs of everyone who worked with them in danger. People who relied on their employment. People who had families that depended on them. Mokuba was honest. He told them that, in fact, Seto would have fired everyone if he hadn't made his discovery before the deadline he was given. The entire office was quiet as he spoke. He didn't have to raise his voice. Annoyance, anger and frustration came through clearly.
Mokuba didn’t need to look at his brother to see the smirk he knew was there. It could be felt, a crest of snark that hung thickly in the air. There was pride in it. His brother was very close to commenting on the situation.
"Don't," he advised, under his breath. Seto did as was asked, and remained silent.
The presence of security - the Kaiba personal detail - was enough to discourage anyone from acting too rashly. Not that it stopped the flurry of insults thrown in their direction as the two men were escorted out.
Consequences weren't limited to losing their jobs, either. They would be blacklisted - getting any other media related job in Domino would be nigh impossible. As the coup d'grace, he made it clear that their greed was to blame. He thanked them, additionally, for making their idiocy known. KaibaCorp had no use for those with the inability to reason calculable risk on so small a scale.
Even after the two culprits were escorted out of the building, those who remained were addressed. No matter how close they all seemed, no matter how well Mokuba worked with the rest of them - they were expendable. His brother repurposed this company from the ground of up with his own two hands. When it came to protecting him, any number of measures were an easy choice.
If Seto had opted to terminate everyone, Mokuba wouldn't have tried to stop him.
The entire floor was tense when they left, and that was the way he'd wanted it. For once, he set the pace of exit and Seto followed him. They were silent on the elevator to his brother's office, but Mokuba was surprised to find himself calm. He felt the urge to make sure his heart was still beating, in fact.
If nothing else, he felt the weight of his fatigue now that the show was over. He'd completed his task, and both mind and body were aware of it. Vision once sharp with determination now blurred. Mokuba could feel his coordination suffering. His limbs were heavy, and so were his thoughts. The whole of his body seemed to pulse with effort, as if to make up for his easy heartrate.
With concerted effort, Mokuba forced one step after the other until he could collapse in the chair across Seto's desk. "I'm exhausted," he said. The plush material threatened to swallow him in comfort, so he sat up straight to keep from curling up. "I'm going home."
"You persevered until the job was done." Taking his own seat, a rigid wooden thing that looked unwelcoming. "I'll call a car," he added, and Mokuba was grateful for it.
"Thanks." There was no way he could drive under these conditions. "But that doesn't mean that this is over." That smirk vanished so quickly that Mokuba reconsidered whether or not he'd seen it. "You can't keep doing this. This isn't me talking as your brother. We were able to squash it this time, but it took a lot. It took a lot out of me."
Seto pursed his lips. But there wasn't much to be done; this was the sort of thing that he put Mokuba in the position to do. "And you suggest...?"
It wasn't a simple question, mostly because the two of them were always together in a package. This was a problem that Mokuba had considered for a while; today's situation was only a piece of it.
Seto was not the easiest person to manage, or even advise. He did what he wanted with little thought of the consequences, especially if they were only social. Though he seemed to have had enough sense to be discreet with Ishizu up to this point, that seemed to be only out of convenience.
Meanwhile, Mokuba had always been cautious; though he and Yami had never been questioned, there was no doubt that was ready for such a thing. The differences were stark and noticeable on how they approached being in the spotlight.
A part of him felt like he was being punished. "If you're going to be seen with her in public, you should be honest about it if asked. Or at least not deny it." But that would open a whole new can of worms, as the last week and a half had proved. "Even if I was able to keep the press from running stories about it, they know you're keeping it covered up. They're going to look for information. If they find it because you're not being guarded enough, you can't have them fire a photographer or something like that. And we won't be able to afford paying for silence long-term, either."
Or even short-term, really.
But it wasn't as though he didn't understand his brother's plight. Being watched was its own problem. Seto didn't like being in the spotlight, and furthermore, neither did Mokuba. It would be unavoidable. And he wasn't ready to have to sit and have that conversation with Yami. If Mokuba was honest, he had enjoyed being the forgotten-about-brother. The last year or so had been, work aside, exactly what he wanted. With that said, he wasn't entirely sure if he was ready to face a line of questions about his relationship.
"We'll talk more about it soon," Seto said. He picked up a phone to his right and started dialing, looking more annoyed than anything else. "You need some rest," he decided.
You never change, Mokuba thought wearily. When Seto needed time to develop an opinion on a topic, he avoided discussing it.
"We have the same problem." Maybe his brother needed the reminder. "So it's better if we make a decision together." But he was too tired to pursue the matter further, at least for the day.
He closed his eyes and sighed deeply as Seto called for a car. Mokuba wanted, more than anything to be away from work. Mentally, at least, he felt gross. There wasn't a part of himself that he liked or admired; he'd fired two people today, and scared plenty more.
That's not who I am.
Mokuba wanted to believe that. He fidgeted in his seat. Fingers itched to grip something, so he settled for the armrests. It wasn't quite a thought, but a feeling: Aren't you? in reply.
A deep breath followed to dispel what would have been a flood of negativity. Suddenly he felt uncomfortable in this space, with his brother; and the idea that they were alike. Should he have looked harder for an alternative way to deal with the situation? Another quieted the back and forth of emotions, and he opened his eyes to Seto staring at him. Concerned, no doubt.
"I need time to myself at home," he pushed out. It was too many words, he decided just after; Seto liked responses short and to the point.
A brown eyebrow arched up in reply.
"Not the mansion," Mokuba specified.
"...fine."
Another few moments and the pressure of impending considerations was too much for him; Mokuba stood and, without a word to Seto, left the office.
Those two men were the reason why pictures had been snapped on his birthday.
The moment he stepped foot into the office again, he was on it. Seto didn't have to ask. There was no excuse, really, as to why anyone should have known that they were going to be there in the first place. Even if there were only three photographers there, that was three too many. Typically they didn't have to worry about things like that. The Kaiba brothers were a large part of the infrastructure in Domino, via KaibaCorp; their presence wasn't special unless there was some event going on, or there was a particularly slow news day. They didn't go out of their way to hide; it was unnecessary. This was their city.
Sometimes when they visited places word would get out. Fans would update their Twitters or Snapchats and upload videos. There would be a small crowd waiting when they left. Questions about their company's latest project or some rumor they heard about the city's development was usually what they dealt with.
Not the salacious headlines involving them right now; nothing about Seto's love life, certainly.
All in all, things wasn't as bad as they could have been. KaibaCorp's hand in the media was very useful for cleaning up problems like these. Everyone involved was facing disciplinary action. Nothing more would be mentioned in print about the fact that the two of them had met with Ishizu Ishtar for dinner that night. But it was a hassle. No one really wanted to give up the story because it was interesting. The Great Seto Kaiba wasn't usually seen with company in general, let alone a woman. If any lesser company had been in this situation, their influence wouldn't have been enough.
And Seto wasn't off the hook for this, either. Mokuba had expressed many times (even that night in particular) that it wasn't a good idea to leave the house without establishing a plan of action. It was important to know how they wanted to handle a situation like this, how they would present themselves. As per usual, Seto wasn't concerned with specifics. He seemed to be unaware that glowering wasn't a full-proof way to sway others into doing what he wanted.
It had taken a little over two weeks to figure out how it had been done. Mokuba issued a warning and potential amnesty for those coming forward about the incident. No one had. A few of their employees, in private, expressed wishing that they did know; they were afraid that if the culprits weren't caught, they would all be laid off.
That was, of course, precisely what Seto wanted to do.
The atmosphere in PR as a whole was wary. Quiet. People weren't sure who to trust, with someone risking this big a fuck up. Mokuba was a bit more rational. He didn't like working in that environment, and he had some good people under him. The extra work was worth it to keep everyone else together.
As always with media contacts, that side was the least regulated. Most outlets did whatever they could to get attention when it wouldn't get them in trouble. Having a chat with the photographers - and their employers, more importantly - revealed who had initially been tipped off. Mokuba had to admit that on their side of things, these two employees were smarter than most. No one met in person. None of the transactions occurred anywhere near KaibaCorp grounds. Communication carried out on personal phones, with new and clean email accounts.
They seemed to have forgotten, however, that certain portions of Domino had Wi-Fi hotspots sponsored by their employers. It was a long shot to have considered it, but Mokuba prided himself on overturning every stone possible. Two long weeks of parsing through data, of longer nights and a few all-nighters at that; of him locked in his office, combing through for matches on numbers, email service IPs and other bits of cell phone client data. But he'd found them.
It wouldn't have taken Seto so long. Mokuba was rusty on his networking skills. That wasn't his department, and there probably was an easier way. But he wanted to prove to his brother that he could do it without help.
He was just as unhappy as the two men packing up their desks. This wasn't work he liked. He would have rather been at home, bundled up with Yami for the last couple weeks. Sleep was a thing he liked; not taking work home was even better.
He wasn't sure if he liked coffee anymore. Triple espressos were a minimum requirement to keep him awake, now. Several times he'd had to start searches over, mind too adled to recall exactly where he'd left off while pursuing a thought or even when taking a bathroom break. It went without saying, that everything would have been much better if they had simply not done this at all. There was a new appreciation for what Seto did on a regular basis, that was for sure.
All that work, but it didn't seem that the two guys were going to leave quietly. They were all objections and lies at first.
Mokuba was the only one who spoke to them. He didn't want anyone thinking that he was the younger, and softer, brother. More personable, certainly. But one did not denote the other. This was a rare chance to establish the difference.
It was a dilemma that he had struggled with addressing for a long time. He was always the brother that people tried to take advantage of, the one others attempted to seduce and coerce. They felt that, because he could and would feel, that he was suspectible. He couldn't really be a Kaiba, right? When people thought of their name, they thought of Seto, not of the child often seen at his side; not of the well-dressed and well-mannered man presenting his brother's terms. They were associated with ruthlessness, cutthroat honesty and severe consequences.
But that didn't always make for good business. Those approaches only worked well when everything was done in-house. When Seto was working alone; he wasn't good on a team. When collaborations were necessary, someone had to be be reasonable. And Mokuba was pegged as weaker for it.
Either a person used their power or they didn't. That was a lesson he'd picked up over recent months, with Yami. Whatever kindnesses a person may offer, it would always be belied by how strictly they wielded their title. It was an undercurrent that permeated everything, he'd learned. Even when the two of them weren't actively participating in anything, sometimes Mokuba felt it - the anticipation, expectation that authority could be called upon at any time. There was no on or off switch for most people. Most were led to see in black-and-white, in extremes. Anything in between was pushed into one category or another. And that applied to his work as well.
Seto had taught him those things, but Mokuba often refused to put those lessons to use.
He preferred subtle manipulations. Peripheral measures that people obeyed because they still felt in control. Deception was in itself the problem, however: being deceptive left the target feeling as though they were in fact in control of things. It worked rather well for resources that needed to be reused; a personalized method, rather than one that reached and gripped others by way of intimidation. Truly effective manipulation was custom-tailored and enduring. A tool could not be of service again if it was broken.
But this day at least, Seto was right. Mokuba realized that in situations like these, he would have to be his full capability to set an example. Brute force was neccessary. So he was cruel because he could be. The two offenders were fired in front of their peers. Their arguments were shut down by fact and no words were spared. It was a wholly different experience from when he was younger. There was no doubt about what needed to be said, or why.
Mokuba let them know exactly why it was happening that way: they took advantage of they fact that those managing sensitive information were nearby; they took advantage of the fact that he didn't like being an enigma to those who worked for him; they took advantage of the fact that it was a man's birthday, and exploited it for their own gain. Finding them wasted valuable time that could have been better spent elsewhere. They had been given opportunity to come forward - and anyone who knew would have turned them in, if it were possible.
The two of them put the jobs of everyone who worked with them in danger. People who relied on their employment. People who had families that depended on them. Mokuba was honest. He told them that, in fact, Seto would have fired everyone if he hadn't made his discovery before the deadline he was given. The entire office was quiet as he spoke. He didn't have to raise his voice. Annoyance, anger and frustration came through clearly.
Mokuba didn’t need to look at his brother to see the smirk he knew was there. It could be felt, a crest of snark that hung thickly in the air. There was pride in it. His brother was very close to commenting on the situation.
"Don't," he advised, under his breath. Seto did as was asked, and remained silent.
The presence of security - the Kaiba personal detail - was enough to discourage anyone from acting too rashly. Not that it stopped the flurry of insults thrown in their direction as the two men were escorted out.
Consequences weren't limited to losing their jobs, either. They would be blacklisted - getting any other media related job in Domino would be nigh impossible. As the coup d'grace, he made it clear that their greed was to blame. He thanked them, additionally, for making their idiocy known. KaibaCorp had no use for those with the inability to reason calculable risk on so small a scale.
Even after the two culprits were escorted out of the building, those who remained were addressed. No matter how close they all seemed, no matter how well Mokuba worked with the rest of them - they were expendable. His brother repurposed this company from the ground of up with his own two hands. When it came to protecting him, any number of measures were an easy choice.
If Seto had opted to terminate everyone, Mokuba wouldn't have tried to stop him.
The entire floor was tense when they left, and that was the way he'd wanted it. For once, he set the pace of exit and Seto followed him. They were silent on the elevator to his brother's office, but Mokuba was surprised to find himself calm. He felt the urge to make sure his heart was still beating, in fact.
If nothing else, he felt the weight of his fatigue now that the show was over. He'd completed his task, and both mind and body were aware of it. Vision once sharp with determination now blurred. Mokuba could feel his coordination suffering. His limbs were heavy, and so were his thoughts. The whole of his body seemed to pulse with effort, as if to make up for his easy heartrate.
With concerted effort, Mokuba forced one step after the other until he could collapse in the chair across Seto's desk. "I'm exhausted," he said. The plush material threatened to swallow him in comfort, so he sat up straight to keep from curling up. "I'm going home."
"You persevered until the job was done." Taking his own seat, a rigid wooden thing that looked unwelcoming. "I'll call a car," he added, and Mokuba was grateful for it.
"Thanks." There was no way he could drive under these conditions. "But that doesn't mean that this is over." That smirk vanished so quickly that Mokuba reconsidered whether or not he'd seen it. "You can't keep doing this. This isn't me talking as your brother. We were able to squash it this time, but it took a lot. It took a lot out of me."
Seto pursed his lips. But there wasn't much to be done; this was the sort of thing that he put Mokuba in the position to do. "And you suggest...?"
It wasn't a simple question, mostly because the two of them were always together in a package. This was a problem that Mokuba had considered for a while; today's situation was only a piece of it.
Seto was not the easiest person to manage, or even advise. He did what he wanted with little thought of the consequences, especially if they were only social. Though he seemed to have had enough sense to be discreet with Ishizu up to this point, that seemed to be only out of convenience.
Meanwhile, Mokuba had always been cautious; though he and Yami had never been questioned, there was no doubt that was ready for such a thing. The differences were stark and noticeable on how they approached being in the spotlight.
A part of him felt like he was being punished. "If you're going to be seen with her in public, you should be honest about it if asked. Or at least not deny it." But that would open a whole new can of worms, as the last week and a half had proved. "Even if I was able to keep the press from running stories about it, they know you're keeping it covered up. They're going to look for information. If they find it because you're not being guarded enough, you can't have them fire a photographer or something like that. And we won't be able to afford paying for silence long-term, either."
Or even short-term, really.
But it wasn't as though he didn't understand his brother's plight. Being watched was its own problem. Seto didn't like being in the spotlight, and furthermore, neither did Mokuba. It would be unavoidable. And he wasn't ready to have to sit and have that conversation with Yami. If Mokuba was honest, he had enjoyed being the forgotten-about-brother. The last year or so had been, work aside, exactly what he wanted. With that said, he wasn't entirely sure if he was ready to face a line of questions about his relationship.
"We'll talk more about it soon," Seto said. He picked up a phone to his right and started dialing, looking more annoyed than anything else. "You need some rest," he decided.
You never change, Mokuba thought wearily. When Seto needed time to develop an opinion on a topic, he avoided discussing it.
"We have the same problem." Maybe his brother needed the reminder. "So it's better if we make a decision together." But he was too tired to pursue the matter further, at least for the day.
He closed his eyes and sighed deeply as Seto called for a car. Mokuba wanted, more than anything to be away from work. Mentally, at least, he felt gross. There wasn't a part of himself that he liked or admired; he'd fired two people today, and scared plenty more.
That's not who I am.
Mokuba wanted to believe that. He fidgeted in his seat. Fingers itched to grip something, so he settled for the armrests. It wasn't quite a thought, but a feeling: Aren't you? in reply.
A deep breath followed to dispel what would have been a flood of negativity. Suddenly he felt uncomfortable in this space, with his brother; and the idea that they were alike. Should he have looked harder for an alternative way to deal with the situation? Another quieted the back and forth of emotions, and he opened his eyes to Seto staring at him. Concerned, no doubt.
"I need time to myself at home," he pushed out. It was too many words, he decided just after; Seto liked responses short and to the point.
A brown eyebrow arched up in reply.
"Not the mansion," Mokuba specified.
"...fine."
Another few moments and the pressure of impending considerations was too much for him; Mokuba stood and, without a word to Seto, left the office.