Interlude #13: Noah's Narrative

"In our family, loneliness and isolation are not merely frequent, they are ubiquitous. They are what define us and, in an odd way, unite us. No one understands the feeling of quiet desperation quite as well as my cousins and I." I told the woman.

"I think you'll find that isn't true." She said with a reassuring smile. "Many of my clients feel that they are the only ones who feel that way when, really, you all understand it."

I nodded. "Good. That means you've dealt with emotionally detached men before. What do you charge?"

"Well, of course, that depends on a number of factors."

I held up my hand to stop her. "I am not here to negotiate. I will pay you one million yen - total. I am prepared to give you ten thousand today; the remainder, I will give you at my wedding. If that arrangement is not acceptable, I thank you for your time."

She began taking notes. "Alright. So you need someone who takes direction easily, but is capable of being on her own when you don't have time for her, correct?"

I smiled. "That would be sensible, but no. Independence is not a requirement for me. I don't care what she looks like or what race she is, either, but she must be fluent in both Japanese and English. She must be young enough and healthy enough - and willing - to bear at least three children. Nothing else matters to me. She will be required to sign a prenuptial agreement, of course."

"Of course." She agreed, nodding and writing.

"In truth, I don't care if she only wants me for the life of luxury I can give her. I want one thing from her. I want an affectionate woman. I want someone who will make up for all the years of emptiness. I want hand holding and hugging and kissing." I had to laugh at myself. "I guess I sound childish and pathetic."

"Not at all, Kaiba-san." She wrote for another minute and then looked at me again. "Actually, this might be very easy. I have two young ladies in mind already. They are both under 25, employed, but want to raise families. To be honest, they both were rejected by another client because he thought that they were more interested in his wallet than in him."

"If either of them can fool me into feeling that I am the most important thing in her life, she will have all the money she can spend."

"I believe I can arrange an introduction soon. Shall I have them call you directly?"

"No." I gave her Bakura's card. "Have them meet with our Geisha. If he approves of them, then he will fit them into my schedule."

"A Geisha?" She actually looked impressed.

I stood up and bowed. "Thank you, Nakodo." I gave her an envelope with a check. "I look forward to hearing from you soon."

She stood up and bowed more deeply. "Thank you, Kaiba-san."

I went back to the office, checked in with my secretary, and then called Seto.

"Kaiba." He answered. I could hear construction behind him.

"Are you going to be back in February?"

"I doubt it. We should be opening or close to it by then. Why?"

"I was hoping to get married on Valentine's Day." I grinned, imagining his expression.

"Hold on." I heard some movement and then the noise around him muffled. "Did you say 'get married', Noah?

I laughed. "Yes. Don't sound so shocked. People do that. Not Kaibas, but normal people."

He laughed as well. "Yes, I think even the Emperor would have to attend the first Kaiba wedding in history. Of course I will come home for that. When and who?"

"Unknown. But I hired the matchmaker today and she thinks I'm not too ugly to mate."

"She's entitled to her own opinion." He teased.

"She's supposed to be very good. Takei Hiroko found his second wife through her. Have you seen her yet? Astounding!"

"I saw her picture. Yes, very impressive." He was silent for a moment. "Give me her number."

I looked at the phone receiver as if I could see him through it. "What?"

"Was it a complicated statement? I want the matchmaker's number."

"Why?"

I heard his frustrated sigh. "So I can unlock the secrets of the universe. Do not be difficult. Give me her number."

I pulled out her card and gave it to him. A thought occurred to me, but I had trouble accepting it. "You're not going to arrange a wife too, are you?"

"Is there a reason I shouldn't?"

"I can't think of any reason why you should!" I didn't mean to sound harsh, but the idea was stunning. "Surely you aren't looking for a lover."

"Lovers are irrelevant. But I do need an heir and it occurs to me that having one near Hianko's age would be good for the child."

I nodded. If I married soon, there could be three of them. All growing up together - and possibly avoiding the traumas that Seto and I grew up with.

Which sparked another thought for me. "I think I will create a Kaiba Trust fund for the next generation. It will need assets to secure it."

"Through which entity?"

"I think the S&L. It's comparatively small, but solid, and the senior investor there is quite good."

"Alright. I'll transfer twenty percent of Agriculture and ten percent of Land."

I did some mental math. Seto was contributing roughly a half a billion in assets. "I'll take half of that. I'll pull some real estate investments and get the rest from Mokuba. He'll have kids eventually."

"Ye Gods." He chuckled. "Mokuba as a father. Should such a thing be allowed?"

"In a reasonable world? Of course not!" I agreed. "But then, what sane person would allow you or I to reproduce?"

He laughed loudly. "Oh I'm sure that contravenes the Geneva Conventions."

"No, the Geneva Protocols - it would qualify as biological warfare, after all."

"Yes, of course. Hold on." He muted the phone briefly. "Americans! Send me the documents and I'll sign off on the trust. Oh, if things stay on track, we'll have the pre-opening on March 4th and the official on the 8th."

"I'm sure Ryou will clear my schedule."

"I'm sure. Are we still conferencing at lunch?"

"As far as I know."

"Good. I should have - just a moment, damn it, Duke - I should have this month's financials to you by then."

"Ah, yes. You're way over budget, you realize." I grinned, knowing how he'd reply.

"Irrelevant, you penny-pinching swine. I plan to pay double bonuses the week we open and I'll bet I still beat you and Mokuba by twelve percent for the quarter." He hung up, chuckling.

I hung up and sighed. My cousin was the only person in the world I could share some things with. Things like hiring a matchmaker. We never discussed feeling lonely; only things we did to avoid feeling so.

With my mother, I never discussed anything unhappy. She always smiled with her mouth, but never in her eyes. After Uncle Gozaburo's passing, she rarely did even that much. In truth, part of my sudden rush to marry and reproduce was the hope that becoming a grandmother would give her a reason not to follow her brother's footsteps.

It was inevitable that she would. I had not rushed enough.

Mother was in love with Uncle. Romantic love. And although she never said anything to confirm it, I have a sick feeling I know who my father was.

She had a picture she kept on the mantelpiece. A man who looked nothing like me. She told me that he was a businessman who died overseas before I was born. She told me that they were engaged, but he died before they could wed. She told me that Uncle approved of the man - which only made the story less believable.

Throughout my life, Uncle always treated me as well as could be expected. He assisted with my education, helped with my sometime outrageous medical expenses, made a place for me in the corporation and generally supported my right to the 'Kaiba' name. But Mother he hardly acknowledged. It was as if she was a servant and I was the one with whom he was concerned. I never understood the dynamic between them.

Until I found the letters.

Our home is a modern mansion three miles from Kaiba Manor. It is opulent and grand, but sterile; as if professional decorators and not its residents chose all its contents. Only three rooms had any warmth. Mother's bedroom, my office and the second floor guest room - which, to my knowledge, had never been used.

My office I decorated as a haven away from, honestly, everyone. My bedroom had become a place of either sleep or recovery so, if I had a choice, I wanted to be anywhere else. My office was some place where I could be active without straining my heart.

Mother's room held furniture she said belonged to her parents and grandparents and contained fond memories.

The second floor guest room, however, contained an oak carved bed with a pink canopy, a music box, and a black lacquered dresser. There were other pieces but those are the ones that always caught my attention. The dresser had a series of scratches in the side, deeply and purposefully made. There were 68 of them. They meant something I was sure, but I didn't know what. The music box didn't play - the music wheel had been removed. The bedspread had embroidery on it - as if it were a practice piece for someone. Uncle and Mother's names were there; along with another name 'Kaiba Kisara' whom Mother would only tell me was her elder sister who had died young. The Kaiba kamon was there and a dragon very similar to the KaibaCorp logo. There were, of course, flowers and other stitches as on any sampler. The times I found Mother there, staring at the patterns, she was always looking at the same two faint stains. There is no stitch work hiding them. When I suggested to her ways of removing them, she nodded sadly, but never took action.

It was under the bed that I found the letters.

They were written while Kisara was in college - older than I would have suspected for someone who 'died young'. They spoke mostly of obvious, girlish things - clothes, studies, and of course boys.

Two very specific boys.

The early letters discussed 'Buro' - a name I would never have associated with Uncle until Anzu referred to him by it. My mother and aunt loved him passionately. They wanted to please him. They feared him.

Then Kisara began discussing another boy, an Arab named Aden she had met in school.

Mother wrote she was pregnant with no mention of how or by whom. A few months later, Kisara was as well. They shared the joys, fears and pains of their conditions in writing. Some of the letters, I realized were written while they were both home at Kaiba Manor, only a few doors away from each other, and yet still only able to share their true thoughts in secret letters.

There were several letters discussing names - a long one about should it be 'Noah' or 'Noa' and the meanings of both. They considered a few other names, but Mother kept returning to 'Noah'. A few months later, when Kisara's child was born, she chose one of the names Mother rejected.

Seto.

The tone of the letters began to change. Mother was desperate for Buro's attention, but he lavished it on Kisara. Kisara, however, longed for the Arab boy and, after what seemed to be two or three years, finally plotted to run away with him. Mother pleaded with her not to, fearing that they would never see each other again. But Kisara was adamant.

Kisara's last letter was tear-stained. Buro had come to her, at school, and raped her. She had said no to him and he ignored her. She said that Buro wanted her to bear again. But she was leaving with Aden. He was like a father to her first child and if she was indeed pregnant again, Aden promised he would raise it as his own.

I did not want to believe that Seto and I were half cousins and half brothers by birth. That even my uncle was cruel enough to father children by force on his sisters. Yet reading the letters, it was difficult to come to any other conclusion. So many questions plagued me. If indeed, Seto and Mokuba were Kisara's children, why had Uncle not told my mother? Why, when Aunt Kisara died, had he not simply claimed them as his own instead of letting his own blood - his sons - be placed in an orphanage? How did Aunt Kisara die?

Part of me thought it best to let it stay buried in the past. Mother deserved peace from it. Especially since, as much as the idea that Mother desired Uncle sickened me, I could not help feeling sorry for the unrequited love she'd suffered with my whole life. The idea that he knew how she felt - her early letters spoke of unrestrained passion - and yet hardy acknowledged her presence, angered me. One more cruelty from Uncle.

I was, however, keenly aware that I did not wish to fill either of their roles. I wanted a wife - even if arranged and not for love. I wanted children who knew me. I did not want my only solace to come on rare occasion when my child would find me weeping, alone and forsaken.

I could not bear it. Her weeping. It broke my heart to hear it. I hadn't found the letters then - although if I had found them at that age, I may have thrown myself out of a window.

But I was twelve and devoted to Mother. One night her weeping seemed more pitiful than usual. Often I crept down the hall and slipped into her bed. Normally she would hold me, and that seemed to sooth her.