This chapter is when things first started really going in a linear direction, I think. So essentially, this story will only maintain its character as a "oneshot" collection in the fact that I don't have an overall plot in mind. This will be going in a similar vein of an anime or a manga, shall we say, in specific story arcs, perhaps with some stand-alone "filler" every so often, depending on my mood.

There is a bit more of that "reverse foreshadowing" I talked about in the second chapter popping up in this one. I'm currently working on going through the specifics of that story, and once I have it figured out properly, I'll let you know. Currently, some of the stuff I have planned conflicts with the final scene of chapter two, so I'll be going back and changing it after a while. I'll tell you when I do.

Any of you guys feel like seeing a couple other members of our favorite card-flinging family? Well, you're about to. I'm having a lot of fun with this project, and I hope you are, too. Let's see what's happening now, shall we?

1.

"Fancy seein' you here."

Seto didn't glance up; he didn't need to. The voice was immediately, and irritatingly, familiar. He was about to make a scathing retort, perhaps regarding the speaker's questionable ability to spell the word fancy, but in a flash remembered Connor Brinkley's cousin.

And suddenly he realized that the New-Yorker's twang of Joey Wheeler's voice didn't grate on his nerves so much today. And so he said, "I am dealing with Solomon Motou because he is the only man competent enough to fill my order at the moment."

He still did not look up, but he knew that Joey was looking at him oddly. "Tha' right?"

"I require the full catalog of the 'Dark Avatar' set released last week, and he is the only one who offered to fill the order immediately. So I am here."

"Huh. Well, Gramps ain't gonna be for f' another...half-hour yet. So, uh...gonna hafta wait."

Seto grunted.

As he turned his gaze back to the paperback book in his hands, Seto remained completely silent as Joey grabbed a broom leaning against one wall and began to sweep.

There had been a time, not so long ago, when the two of them in the same room together would have been a recipe for public disturbance. Joey – prideful and rash – never had been able to let any of Seto's snide comments roll off his back, choosing instead to start a screaming match that would inevitably end in Seto being kicked out of the establishment.

Eventually, though, things had changed. Most of it had to do with Mokuba. His shared experiences with Joey, Yugi, and the rest of their friends led him to being included as "one of the guys," something Mokuba was quite pleased with. Seto had initially felt an urge to step in, to stop them from speaking with each other, but had stepped back.

"I don't like you," Seto had told Joey one afternoon. "The feeling is mutual, I am certain. But Mokuba likes us both. Something has to change."

"Yeah," Joey had said, shrugging. "Guess so."

And so, the pair had decided that the proper response to the nigh-inevitable hostility that would result in their being together would be ignoring each other's very existence. Meetings between Seto and "the idiot brigade" inevitably quieted, and life for all of them became more peaceful.

"It's 'cuz that kid knows how to get anything outta anybody," Joey had said once. "He's a frickin' con artist and he don't even know it...and the worst part about it is I don't think I mind too much."

Seto would have understood...if Joey had said it to him.

2.

"...Mokuba has a new friend at school."

Joey stopped sweeping. "Yeah? Sweet."

"Connor Brinkley. Eleven, blond. Good with math, bad with English."

Joey raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Well, 'bout time the li'l guy started hangin' with kids his own age. So whatsa deal? Not good enough for ya?"

Seto shook his head, ignoring the jibe. "He's fine. I think they're good for each other. It's Connor's cousin, Matthew Kerns, that I have a problem with."

"'Zat right?"

"On speaking to Connor's mother," Seto continued, as if he were giving a mission briefing, "I understand that he is leaving the city in a week, to go back to his parents' home in San Diego. He is here...on a vacation. Whether the vacation was for Kerns himself or his parents, I'm not entirely certain. But I have a guess."

"Sounds like a peach," Joey muttered.

"He has a problem with me. I am...gouging prices, and mongering profits, if I recall his rhetoric correctly."

Joey scowled. "The hell? How old's this guy?"

"Fifteen, sixteen. I didn't ask."

"Right...fun guy."

"He has been taking out this frustration over my success on Mokuba," Seto said, and Joey's face instantly straightened. "There has been nothing physical, insofar as I can tell. But I confronted him about this, and I'm not exactly confident that he will let well enough alone."

When Joey spoke next, his voice was low and dangerous, and had anyone else been listening, they would have been surprised at how eerily similar his voice sounded to Seto's.

"...Yeah?"

"He fancies himself a bully," Seto said. "Dresses like a felon, acts like a swaggering frat boy. He won't have liked my...discussion with him. And he'll take it out on Mokuba."

"Kid got a bodyguard?"

Seto shook his head. "I've looked. Nobody I've found so far is clean enough to trust full-time. Listen, Wheeler. I've worked hard to ensure that the people of this city know that Mokuba is off-limits. It's worked well these past few months, after the debacle with...him."

Joey's face fell slightly at this; he knew what Seto was talking about.

"But Kerns is not from this city," Seto continued, "and does not know who he's dealing with."

Joey forced the somber expression off of his face in favor of an amused smirk. "In for a rude awakenin'."

"More than likely. Mokuba and Connor are taking a trip to the mall this afternoon after school lets out, and Connor's mother has asked that Kerns look after them. She is of the opinion that I've scared him straight. I am not."

Joey crossed his arms. "I see. Think he's gonna try somethin'?"

"Not overtly. Not in public. But he's stupid enough to think he can threaten, and I won't have Mokuba worrying about it. He has no reason to fear for himself, but he will worry for Connor, who has to live with the idiot for now."

Joey nodded. "Right."

"They'll be there at three."

Joey fished a cellular phone out of his pocket and looked at it. "...Two-twenty," he said. He punched in a number and waited. "Oi. Tris. Clear ya schedule for the next couple hours. We're goin' shoppin'."

Joey pocketed the phone and nodded to Seto again, and there was a species of camaraderie between them when he said,

"I'm on it."

3.

It might have been intimidating or uncomfortable for anyone else. Connor, at least, seemed nervous about it. He kept glancing at his cousin every few seconds, sighing and adjusting his shirt when he did.

Mokuba had learned to ignore others' eyes on him. He had seen too many people with looks like Matt's on their faces to be affected by it anymore. And he might have been nervous about the implications of the fact that Matt was glaring daggers into his head if he hadn't stared down the barrels of a few guns in his day.

"Ignore him," Mokuba told Connor, making sure to be loud enough for Matt to hear. "It's not worth getting scared over. If he thinks he can do anything to me in a place this public?"

"What's so special about you?" Matt sneered.

"I think you might have met a 'profiteer' recently who could tell you the answer to that," Mokuba said without looking back. "I'm not saying I'm special. But these people might. That's the thing about being famous, I guess."

"Tch. Bunch of sheep."

"Yeah, 'cuz you don't look like a walking stereotype at all," Mokuba replied, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up!"

"Oh, oka—oops. Sorry."

Connor laughed.

Mokuba looked around, and glimpsed something that caught his eye. A very particular blond teenager strolled out of a booth with a hot pretzel. A very particular brunette teenager was with him.

They began to walk straight toward Mokuba with an air of simply strolling. Mokuba turned his eyes from them and hid a smile with his hand.

"You laughin' at me?"

Connor turned. "Matt, you heard what Mom said. Leave him alone."

"Mommy ain't here, dork."

Joey barreled into Matt just as he was lifting a hand. Matt whirled, staring after him with a scowl. Joey, looking down at the teen with contempt (he was several inches taller), smirked.

"Oughtta watch where ya goin'. People're walkin' here."

"You bumped into me, you prick!"

"Sure thing, boss."

Tristan came up behind Matt and chuckled. As the two began to walk away he said, loudly, "Getta look at that clown? We in a Simple Plan video?"

"Hey, I like them," Joey said.

Tristan laughed. "You would."

Mokuba was outright grinning now.

4.

Seto had taught his brother to never let a bully get the better of him. It was one of the most important things Mokuba had ever learned, and it had saved his life more than once.

"The worst thing you can do to them is let them see you squirm," Seto had said. "Ignore it. The looks, the jeers, the jokes, everything. Just ignore it. Rising to the bait will only give them power, and that's the last thing you want. It'll make them more confident. You'll end up with a lot worse on your hands that way."

Unfortunately, this advice had been given just after Mokuba had gotten a new action figure stolen at school, and he had not been in much of a mood to listen to reason.

"He stole my toy, Niisama!"

Seto had smiled gently, reached down and snapped open his briefcase, and produced the figure, complete with "M.K." marked on the bottom of one foot. "This?"

Mokuba had gasped. "Niisama! You...you...!"

"Listen, kiddo," Seto had said, passing the figure to Mokuba. "No matter what anyone at school says or does to you, don't let them see it work. Let them know you aren't afraid of them."

"But I am!"

Another, wider smile. "Don't be. They may be mean, they may be big, and they may be 'popular.' But they're no match for me." Seto had put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "They will never...be a match for me."

And so, following his big brother's advice with a smile, Mokuba made sure to buy lunch for Matt, too, when they stopped at his favorite restaurant. Both to prove he wasn't bothered by him, and to tweak his nose.

Matt (predictably) looked offended, but said nothing.

"Dad says he'll be home Saturday," Connor said. "He wants to meet you. He knows who you are, I guess. You're really famous, huh?"

Mokuba shrugged. "Niisama's been on TV a lot. I'm usually with him. I'm nothing compared to him." He didn't say this with an air of self-deprecation, but one of glowing adoration.

"But...you've been in tournaments too, right?" Connor asked, sounding excited. "Don't you play Capmon?"

Mokuba raised an eyebrow. "Used to. Tournament rules changed too much. It's broken. Being famous isn't all that great, y'know. I've been kidnapped...four times now."

"Tch," Matt said, sneering. "Probably deserved it...money-grubbing little..."

Mokuba's eyes snapped wide, suddenly feral, and the sharpness of his expression made Connor flinch. "...What did you say...?"

"Yeah," came a serpent's hiss of a voice from behind Matt, causing him to jump, as Joey Wheeler slapped a hand on his shoulder and leaned in close. "...What'd you say, asshole?"

5.

Joey kicked up a chair from an empty table and propped his feet up, looking back at Matt with a friendly – but predatory – look on his face.

"Now...I ain't sayin' I got bionic hearing or nuttin'," the blond said, "but what I heard outta you was that my little buddy here deserved to get kidnapped 'cuz his brother's got a lotta money. Now, color me stupid, I guess, 'cuz I dunno if I see the connection, there."

"There's a connection, I think," Tristan put in, hands in his pockets as he stepped up to the other side of the table. "Kaiba does have quite the pocketbook, y'know. So I guess it stands to reason that people'd wanna get a stab at it. But...to say Mokuba deserves it..."

Tristan shook his head, clicking his tongue in admonition.

Mokuba grinned broadly, and Connor looked confused.

Joey stretched lazily, lacing his hands together behind his head. Noting that Connor was looking at him, he winked. "Yo. You must be the new guy."

"Uh...hi?"

"This is Joey," Mokuba said. "Joey Wheeler."

Connor blinked. "Joey Wheeler? I've seen you on TV! You beat Bandit Keith, right? At Duel Monsters, at that Duelist Kingdom tournament!"

Joey beamed. "Hey-hey, now. I like you, kid. Yeah, 'at's me. But today, I'm just a friend o' Mokuba's, jus' like you. And, uh...looks like there's some trouble brewin', don't it?"

"I didn't do anything to you," Matt snapped defensively.

"Don't recall saying you did," Tristan said, crossing his arms. "Never seen you before today. Ask me, I was better off yesterday, before I knew people still dressed like that."

"Man, screw off," Matt said. "I don't care what you think of me."

Joey barked a laugh. "Yeah, we ain't heard that one before. Well, look, Matty-boy..."

"Don't call me that, asshole. And how do you know my na—"

"Word out," Joey cut in, voice suddenly sharper, "is you ain't made the best impression on Moku, here, or his big brother. Now...that there's a problem. Pretty big problem."

"You threatening me?"

"Whatcha gonna do? Blog it? Cut the shit, you prick. Point is, you made a pretty bad enemy, and you're gonna wanna shape up before he decides you're a liability ain't worth dealin' with."

"I'm not scared of—"

"Dear God, will you shut up? I get it. You're a tough guy. Good f' you, I'll getcha a damn medal. Look, I don't like Seto Kaiba too much, either. A'right? We get along 'bout as well as a couple o' starving dogs with one steak. But me? I'm a frickin' puppy. And I am scared half to death o' gettin' on that guy's bad side."

"Nice metaphor, Joe," Tristan snickered.

"Shut it. Matt, look. I ain't here to play nice witcha. I'm not some peace officer tryna get you to trust me. I'm your fuckin' parole officer. Either you wise up and get scared o' Seto Kaiba right damn quick, or I'm gonna get angry. You can play me off if you want. Go ahead 'n be stupid. But I'm tellin' you right now what Kaiba already told you: you lay off this kid. He's got connections like you wouldn't believe, and you already got two of 'em on your ass."

Joey stood up and slipped over to stand behind Matt, putting both hands on his shoulders. "That's a mean bruise you got there on yer neck," he said softly. "Be a shame to get some more. So why don't you run on home, where it's safe? You ain't needed here."

"I'm s'posed to be here to—"

"Tell an eleven-year-old kid he deserved to get kidnapped. Right. Same kid you said you'd 'do whatever the fuck' you want with. Get the hell outta here before I make you walk on broken goddamn ankles."

"You can't threaten me like tha—"

"Shut it!" Joey snarled. "I can threaten whoever I damn well want to, 'cuz I understand there's frickin' consequences to breakin' rules! You don't."

"Ain't a rule to let some stuck-up suit do this to me!"

"Stuck-up suit ain't here," Joey hissed in Matt's ear. "I am. And I'm talkin' about my rules. And my rules say you back off and quit playin' a game you're too much of a fuck-up to play. Kaiba told you to stay the hell quiet around him, and that definitely covers tellin' him your theory on whether're not he should be a target 'cuz of a bunch o' money he don't even have. I'll be sure 'n tell Kaiba whatcha said, by the way, just 'cuz you piss me off. Threatenin' a little kid. You goddamn bastard. You got a bad time ahead o' you if you don't disappear."

Joey lifted Matt out of his chair and pushed him into the crowd. "Now get the hell outta here. I gave you a warning. You come back here'n I'm gonna give you a lesson on Domino City politics."

Tristan cracked his knuckles almost casually.

Matt began to stumble away. "You can't do this to me!"

"I been to jail before, pinky!" Joey called back. "I can always go back!"

Matt stared at him for a while before breaking into a run.

6.

"Niisama put you up to this," Mokuba said, and it wasn't a question.

"Mentioned somethin'," Joey replied with a shrug.

Mokuba grinned. "This whole bodyguard thing isn't really necessary. That guy's about as threatening as a plastic cap gun."

"Speak for yourself," Connor muttered. "I gotta live with that creep for a week."

"Hey," Tristan said, and Connor looked up as if seeing the man for the first time. "If that jerk tries'n take it out on you, you just let us know."

"S'right," Joey said. "Tristan, here, didn' do much talkin', but he knows his way around. Friend o' Mokuba's a friend of ours. We protect our own, got it?"

"Niisama's a friend of mine," Mokuba put in.

"Yeah," Joey laughed, "but he don't need no protection. 'At guy'd mop the frickin' floor with me."

"Is Mister Kaiba a martial artist or something?" Connor asked.

"'Mister Kaiba.' Listen to him. You'll go places, kid. Yeah, I guess you'd say Kaiba's a martial artist."

"Call Yugi short, too," Tristan muttered. "That guy's no artist. He's a machine."

Mokuba, beaming with pride, sat back and said nothing. Connor smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, lookit you," Joey muttered. "Got that smug li'l Cheshire Cat crap goin'. A'right, so Kaiba's not so bad. People skills still suck, though."

"Yeah. And you're a real diplomat."

"Man, shut up, Tris."

"...Have you really been to jail?" Connor asked suddenly, and there was an apprehensive look on his face. Joey blinked, not expecting the question, and laughed.

"Jail? Nah. Jus' sounded good. Scared 'im off, didn't it? I'm an upstandin' citizen, y'know?" Joey winked. Connor seemed to feel better, but Mokuba couldn't help but wonder.

But instead of furthering the subject, he got up from his chair and said, "Are you guys hungry?"

"Are we guys hungry..." Tristan muttered, rolling his eyes.

Mokuba began to reach for his wallet, but Joey held up a hand. "Hold up, there, rich boy. I don't wantcher blood money. Capitalist dog."

"Call it a paycheck for being my muscle."

Joey grinned. "Well, now...that my people may be able to talk out. I wan' my pay in chicken form, then. An' leave the skin on. My people are offended by skinless chicken."

"Rain check, actually," Tristan said. "Just remembered. My aunt's in town. Goin' to a big dinner tonight."

"'Kay."

"Oi. This gig come with benefits?"

"Like?"

"Like a...7-Up or somethin'."

Mokuba grinned. "Sure."

As the black-haired boy walked off to fill Joey's order, Connor raised an eyebrow. "Do you think Mister Kaiba's gonna like you doing that? He said not to spend too much."

"You kiddin'?" Joey asked. "Kaiba'll love it. Now he don't owe me nuttin' for this."

7.

"Master Kaiba."

Seto glanced up, irritated at the interruption, and snapped a finger onto the button of his intercom. "What is it?" he said sharply.

"A call for you. From a private residence."

"Not interested."

"The woman says it's urgent, sir."

"I'm sure."

"Ah...it's about Young Master Mokuba, sir."

Seto's eyes narrowed. "What name did she give?"

"A, uh...Missus Enid Brinkley."

"Patch it through."

"At once, Master Kaiba."

A moment later, Enid Brinkley's voice – shaky and worried – came through and Seto picked up his private phone, leaning back in his chair. "Yes, Missus Brinkley," he said. "What is it?"

"Matt just came home," she said. "The boys aren't with him. He...he says that a pair of thugs threw him out of a restaurant."

"Of course he did," Seto grunted. "The 'thugs' in question are Joseph Wheeler and Tristan Taylor. Joseph called me a moment ago and told me he thought it better if Mokuba and Connor stayed with him until they come home."

"You...know them?"

"I sent them. From what Joseph has told me, it is a good thing that I did. Apparently, your nephew decided it proper to inform Mokuba that he deserves to be kidnapped. I don't know about you, but I don't find that very amusing."

"You said what?" Enid snarled, voice slightly muffled as she apparently turned to look at her nephew.

"Inform Matthew that if I receive any complaint against him, from my brother or Connor or Joseph Wheeler or anyone again, that I will be pursuing legal action."

"...I understand completely, Mister Kaiba," Enid said icily.

"Thank you. You have my word that your son is completely safe. You haven't any need to worry. I apologize for not informing you sooner."

"It's quite all right. I understand. As long as he's okay. Now, if you will excuse me, Mister Kaiba...I have something to discuss with my nephew. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"Not at all. Goodbye, Missus Brinkley."

"Goodbye, Mister Kaiba."

Seto drew in a deep breath and shook his head. He looked at the phone for a full minute after hanging up, and if anyone else had been in the office, they would have seen a battle waging on that statue's face.

Finally, he picked up the receiver again and punched in a number. Two rings later, Joey Wheeler answered: "Hey, hey. The rich man calleth. What's up?"

"Wheeler, I don't trust this one," Seto said. "He's too stupid to listen to us."

"Yeah, kinda got that vibe."

"I'll be taking care of things when and if he decides to impart any more 'wisdom' on Mokuba, but if he decides he can get away with something physical, I want someone there to take care of it immediately."

Joey was silent for a while.

"...He's gonna be here a week, right?"

"I'm prepared to compensate—"

"No need. I don't intend to let this lice-infested punk off the hook, anyway. I'll keep an eye on things. Ya wanna compensate me, make sure we're square, we'll talk after this prick's dealt with. Tell ya the truth, though, I dunno if it's the Moku-man we oughtta be lookin' after too much."

Seto raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Guy can't get under ya brother's skin for nuttin'. Lettin' everything he says roll right off. Connor, though...he ain't like Mokuba. He's soft. Gonna go after him 'fore he does anything else."

"...I see."

"Connor's a good kid. You were right. I like 'im. But he's walkin' around with a target on 'is back. So I think we oughtta look out f' him, too."

Seto drew in a deep breath, leaning back in his chair again. Drawing his free hand into a fist, he nodded and said,

"You're right."

END

If anybody wonders—and you probably should—why Seto and Joey seem so chummy in this chapter...well, that's something I'll be going into later. It's a very important point in the story, and it's one that's been quite enjoyable to plan out. This probably isn't a good thing for me to admit, as you'll see when I get it written and posted for you.

I've taken to calling this initial "arc" the Matt Chronicles, for reasons I'm sure you can guess. There will be quite a while for me to go before it's complete, but that's how things always go, isn't it? Always end up going on longer than expected. I think that's generally a good thing. More fun for all of us...that is my hope, anyway.

Next chapter will be set in the past, by the way. Call it a flashback if you will. Just so nobody gets confused. Hope you're still enjoying this. Drop me a line if such is your inclination. I'll see you all next time.