Moments like this are a rarity these days.
The silence of his office isn’t overbearing this time. It’s different from the cold, barren office that he has grown so used to. There’s an odd sense of warmth, a familiarity that Seto had believed to be gone. Snuffed out long ago by a hateful tyrant who wanted nothing but to kill that light inside him. But it survived. He survived.
He forced himself to look away from the window, he’d caught himself overthinking. Old habits did die hard, but he’d been determined this time around. It’d be different– everything would be different from now on.
He gently thumbs the porcelain cup in his hands. Though this time, it wasn’t the horrible sludge he called coffee. He’d promised Mokuba to give that up for a while now, but it was only now that he’d begun to drink tea instead. At his brother’s insistence.
A light smile toys on his lips as he remembers.
They were idle memories that should have no business crossing his mind now. Mokuba’s last birthday. The last tournament he hosted. Even plans of what presents to buy for Mokuba– even Yugi and his friends.
He’d been too busy lately, too busy thinking about these things to focus on his work as he used to. Little reminders of that were littered across his office, in the form of souvenirs, pictures, and trinkets that they all had brought him.
And for once, he wasn’t lonely.
