It's been asked, according to the timeline I'm using in this story, how it is that Téa can be older than Yugi and Seto, if they're all in the same grade. The answer is relatively simple. Téa missed the cutoff date to start school in her district, and had to wait a year longer than Yugi.
It hasn't been mentioned in this story, but I'll mention it here: I use my own experiences, that is to say United States experiences, to flavor my YGO work. I'd rather write Domino as the Japanese metropolis that it is, but the sad truth is that I've yet to actually visit a Japanese metropolis. So, I write Domino City as though it's in the States.
So, the idea is this: here in my neck of the woods (if this turns out to be universal, then feel free to ignore my prattling; if not, well, here you go), you have to be 5 or 6 years old by a certain point in the year in order to start school. I assumed that this cutoff date, in the district that Yugi, Seto, and Téa attend, is midway through August. Yugi, having been born in June, made it in early. Seto (late October) and Téa (late August) did not. Hence, "this" year, Yugi is 11. Téa is 12.
Seto is about to turn 11. How did he make it into their year?
Obviously, he skipped a year. Or two. He's smart like that.
Okay. Logistics over. Let's begin.
1.
It's obvious that Seto Yagami learned a long time ago how to walk with his brother attached to him, since he doesn't even react when he steps onto the grounds of the Children's Home, and—after roughly sixteen seconds—Mokuba comes barreling into him and actually climbs up his body to settle himself against Seto's side. His little arms are linked around Seto's neck, and from the look of him he has no intention of ever letting go.
"Hi, Mokie," Seto says gently, rubbing the younger boy's back. "How was your day?"
"Good boy!" Mokuba trumpets, then leans his head against Seto's shoulder. "Good boy."
"You were a good boy?" Mokuba nods emphatically. Seto watches as Dan Elliot approaches the two of them, looking tired but still smiling. "How did he behave?" Seto asks, in a much more business-like tone.
Dan shrugs. "He about covered it. What about you? Seems you went on an adventure today."
"Yugi and his grandfather invited me to visit their shop."
Seto then goes into a play-by-play of the entire afternoon, sounding like he's giving a mission report to a commanding officer. Dan, for his part, listens attentively; this is what marks him as different compared to the other adults who work at the orphanage, something that he always considered just part of the job. He actually listens, not just to Seto but to all of his young charges.
Even Mokuba.
It's evening, almost dark, and Dan is pretty sure that it hasn't even crossed this young genius's mind that it's now October, and his birthday is less than a month away. It might not even have crossed his mind that anyone would have cause to know his birthday was less than a month away, because Seto Yagami is the poster child for orphans who defend themselves against tragedy by treating information as both armor and weapon; he would no more willingly tell a stranger his birthday than hand over his shoes.
Dan tells a particularly truncated version of the afternoon from his perspective, covering up each lie about his brother's behavior with six different truths. He agrees with Kristine: it wouldn't do to tell Seto that Mokuba is a nightmare without him. But he also knows not to flat-out lie to this boy; Seto reads people much better than you might think, given his general social awkwardness, and he has less reason than most of the children here to trust adults. Which is saying something.
Also, Dan has never been a particularly gifted liar.
Once the Yagami boys are in their room, and Seto is studying while Mokuba tries to put together a jigsaw puzzle on the floor, Dan makes a phone call. He's surprised when someone picks up after two rings.
"Good evening," comes Pegasus Crawford's crooning voice from the other line.
". . . Good evening, Mister Crawford," Dan says, drawing in a deep breath and trying to hold himself together. "I wanted to talk to you about your, ah . . . stipulation regarding the money you're donating to us."
"Of course. I understand that it's less than strictly legal, and you technically don't have to do anything in return for my assistance. But I do hope you would be willing to, shall we say, acquiesce."
"Well, see, that's the thing. Seto Yagami grew up poor. I mean, not shirttail poor, but certainly his parents never made it onto tabloid covers. How, exactly, do you presume us to spend a thousand dollars on his birthday without him being . . . suspicious? Or feeling awkward?"
"You know, Mister Elliot—may I call you Dan?"
"Sure."
"Dan, I've been thinking about that. Tell me, have you read Tolkien?"
"Uh . . . yeah? In college. Why?"
"Do you recall . . . there is a tradition among Tolkien's hobbits, to give gifts to others on one's own birthday. So . . . I've been thinking, what if we . . . work together, you and I, to make sure that all the children have a gift to open on Master Yagami's birthday this year?"
Dan blinks. Stops walking.
He says, with a grin rising unconsciously on his face, ". . . I'm listening."
2.
"I can't help but notice that you didn't show your puzzle to Seto" is the first thing Natsumi says in the morning, when Yugi comes stumbling into the kitchen for breakfast. She's been nursing the same mug of coffee for the past half-hour, thinking through innumerable things, and this is apparently the one at the forefront of her mind.
"Yeah, I . . . well . . . I dunno. He might think it's dumb. Everybody else does."
"That's not exactly giving him much of a chance, is it?"
Yugi flinches. "I guess not. But . . . but . . . I wanna finish it, y'know? Before I show anybody."
"You were so excited to show him, from what your grandpa tells me." Natsumi sets down her drink and stands up. She lifts the unopened box of cereal that Yugi tries to claim as his own from his hand, and replaces it with one that's already open. "You're not going to keep many friends if you don't let them know who you are, Yugi."
"I . . . I know! But . . . but what if . . . ?"
"What if he thinks you're a nerd?" Natsumi smirks at her son's miserable nod. "Yugi, come now. You'll have to come up with something better than that. That boy looks practically two, three years younger than you, and he's in your class. I'd bet he's been called a nerd far more often than you have."
"But . . . I mean, he's so cool! Like, you saw him playing kickball with Téa! And then one time at school he . . . !" Yugi stops suddenly. For a moment he looks ready to panic, then he rallies back around and says: "Well . . . I mean, I don't know this for sure, but that thing with show-and-tell? Where he just walked out of class? Téa says he did that to stick up for me. How awesome is that? I mean, what's a guy like that gonna think about some dinky old puzzle that isn't even put together?"
"I don't know, Yugi," Natsumi says, more gently. "And neither will you unless you show him."
". . . Yeah. I guess."
Natsumi ruffles her son's wild hair, and sits back down to reunite with her coffee. "If Seto is risking trips to the principal's office to help you out, don't you think you owe it to him to treat him a bit better than all those strangers you don't know? The ones who actually make fun of you? As opposed to Seto, who apparently hasn't said a single mean thing to you?" Something flinty hits her eyes. "We've taught you better than to treat your friends like strangers. Haven't we?"
Yugi kicks at the floor. "Yeah."
"Are you going to treat Seto like a stranger anymore?"
"No."
Natsumi chuckles. "Good."
3.
Seto doesn't think about his birthday anymore. He hasn't thought about his birthday in three years. Not that it's his brother's fault, because it isn't. Seto always remembers Mokuba's birthday, and makes sure to have some sort of gift ready in July. It isn't exactly hard to come up with gift ideas for a baby, after all. It's only slightly harder to pick them out for a toddler.
His father always had more than enough money in the bank to make sure that Seto had gifts—he worked three jobs—but the actual celebration part had never really happened, in those final years before Seto and Mokuba had become wards of the state, because his father never had any free time—he worked three jobs.
As to Seto's godparents . . . he didn't like to think about them.
The anger that they summon in him is dangerous; it burns entirely too hot.
So, as Dan predicted, Seto hasn't thought about the fact that it's October. Not really. He hasn't considered telling Yugi, or Téa, or God forbid Mister Crawford, that he's turning eleven in a few weeks. The only thing he's thinking about is whether or not he'll be able to find a costume for Mokuba to wear on Halloween. The younger Yagami doesn't understand what Halloween means, but he likes the brightly-colored capes and masks that everyone wears, and Seto is sure that he'll want to join in this year, since he's "growned up" enough.
Maybe he'll ask Dan. Or Kristine.
He returns to his bedroom after a shower to find his brother kneeling on the floor, trying his best to shuffle a stack of Magic & Wizards cards. This amounts to fumbling with them for a while, dropping them, and gathering them back up into a pile; then he does it again. And again.
When Seto steps into the room, Mokuba says: "Play!"
Seto blinks. "You want to duel me, Mokie?"
Mokuba's grin reaches his ears. "Play! Nii'tama! Play!"
Seto smiles as he pulls his dueling deck out of a pocket. ". . . Okay, Mokie. Okay. We'll play."