Chapter Seven: The Authority Teachers Hold
Something startling happened today.
Mokuba wasn't at the window to wave goodbye to me.
Not a curtain stirred to indicate he was more hidden than usual or just slower to get there. He's never done either of the two before, but I was searching for excuses.
There is no excuse. Somehow, my brother is being driven away from me. No matter how I try to get closer to him, I can't seem to get him to talk to me the way he used to. It started with those wounds, and now, it's just encompassing everything.
The gang was strewn all over Yugi's room, taking up so much space with their prone forms that its usual disarray was buried under the moaning shapes of his friends.
"I can't believe we have all that work to do," Téa said dramatically, putting a hand to her forehead as if to keep her brain from leaking out into a goopy mass in its attempt to escape the torture.
"Well, don't do it. Dat's what me and Tristan always do. Or don't do, I guess. And Yuge, too, right?"
There were muted nods from both of them; apparently, speaking was too much effort at the moment.
"No wonder you're always on the bottom of the yearly tests! You'll never find work if you don't pull your grades up to at least passing."
"Well, passin' isn't whud I care 'bout. I'd rather spend time wid my friends."
"We're doing so much right now, too." Téa's eyes rolled.
Bakura, the only member of the gang sitting up, cross-legged, opened his dark brown eyes wider. "We'd be doing more if we actually attempted to do what the teacher assigned us for the group project." He sighed as he thought about who his partner was. "I mean, at the least, you four can do your work!"
Yugi sat up now, understanding Bakura's problem. "Want to call him up to see if he's free?"
Unlike the rest of the gang, Yugi and Téa picking each other for partners and Tristan and Joey becoming the next set, Bakura was left without a friend to work with him on the project. And the only other person in the class who had not chosen a partner by the time the teacher had asked to see groups was none other than the CEO of Kaiba Corporation.
"I'm working alone," Kaiba had said with no degree of doubt in his voice.
"This is a partner assignment, and being able to work in groups is part of what the assignment is graded on," the teacher had replied, unfazed. She had adjusted her glasses and looked straight into the dark eyes of a certain white-haired youth. "Bakura, you don't have a partner, either, correct?"
Bakura had been frightened then, though he didn't know which frightened him more: being without a partner on this huge project or perhaps being stuck with Kaiba.
"Uh…no," he had said softy, ducking his head to avoid being withered by the glare sent his way by the taller-than-average teen in a somewhat nearby chair.
"Then that settles it. Kaiba, you and Bakura are partners."
And that had certainly settled it. Neither one had said a word to the other though Bakura had been very close to asking what topic Kaiba had in mind. Just seeing the laser-blue stare focused entirely on his books, Bakura had backed off.
"He'll probably do the whole thing himself," Bakura mumbled now. "If he hasn't already."
"Man, I wish Kaiba'd been my pardner! Den I'd still ace de ding and not have t' do a single piece a'work." He glanced over at Tristan. "You wouldn't dink of doing dat for me, would ya?"
Snorting, Tristan flung some game piece at his friend. "I can't believe you suggested it at all! We just finished saying how lazy we are."
"Awright, fine, fine. I wuz just checkin', awright? Guess it was too much t' hope for when my partner was you."
"Hey, you're no better!" Tristan sat up, insulted enough to find energy. He flung something harder and heavier at Joey, who gave a yelp and launched himself at Tristan. The two were soon wrestling with as much gusto as they kept reserved for eating, and as startled Yugi was, his room was already so messy that their fighting didn't make much change to the place.
"Guys, cut it out!" Téa shouted, her shrill tone making the two of them wince and stop to cover their ears.
"Couldn't ya have warned us or someding?"
"Then what good would it have been?" Téa crossed her arms and turned back to Yugi and Bakura. "And is there really any reason to protest if Kaiba is going to do all the work for you? Just take your luck."
"But-but, it isn't right!"
Yugi nodded gravely. "I understand, Bakura. So what should we do? Pay him a visit? Talk to Mokuba? Or call him?" he suggested again.
Bakura put a hand over his face. "None of the above sounds likely to leave me capable of doing my fair share of the work and still have my life attached to this bodily form."
"Oh, ya dink he's gonna attack ya, do ya? We'll show dat Kaiba, won't we, Tristan?"
"Of course we will, Joey-man. We'll show him our backsides as we leave his estate running as quickly as possible."
"Awright, let's go!" Joey jumped to his feet again ready to charge down until he slowly heard what Tristan actually said. "Ya wuss! Ya girl scout! Scared a'de li'l Kaiba? Never dought my friends would be frightened a'him!"
Nervously, Bakura looked around the room at all his friends. Most were still, gazing around to avoid seeing Joey's questioning look. With a sigh that indicated defeat, the white-haired young man climbed to his feet daintily and nodded to Yugi. "It looks like I'll have to do one of those, and I'll opt for the one that is most likely to let me live for the next twenty-four hours. May I please use your phone, Yugi?"
"Sure, Bakura. Just make certain Grandpa isn't eavesdropping on you. He never knows when something is private or not."
With an angry flush, Téa nodded. "I'd say!" She, at least, still recalled some of the perverted things Solomon Moto had said to her when she was coming over to Yugi's after school. If Yugi didn't appear within three minutes even these days she felt uncomfortable. It looked like the one thing that was always on boys' minds remained there all the way to death. (1)
Heart thumping stronger than the little beeps of the phone, Bakura's pale fingers punched in the number that was part of the school directory and hoped Kaiba hadn't put in some fake number or a security one. All he wanted was to get his homework straightened out before it was due in two weeks.
The phone on the other end rang once before a voice picked it up and asked what he could help Bakura with. "You've reached the Kaiba estate. May I ask your business and name, please?"
Throat being suddenly clogged, Bakura cleared it and answered softly, "It's Ryo Bakura calling to speak with Seto Kaiba about a school project. He's my partner."
"Hold on," the secretary said, the scratching of a pencil indicating the voice's owner was taking notes. Then the line began to play some light music and Bakura knew he'd been put on hold. The fact that this had been Kaiba's home phone number and he had a secretary along with his own holding music should have made Bakura amused at least, but the boy was too worried to appreciate the expertise of the orchestra.
At the other end of the phone line, the secretary buzzed Mr. Kaiba and passed along the message, asking what he should tell the student on the other end of the line.
Mind dwelling elsewhere, Kaiba recalled his school project with a jolt of annoyance. If that teacher hadn't forced him to have a partner…well, the work was already mostly finished. He was certain Bakura wouldn't mind that he had no work to do for it.
"Just transfer the call to me," he said over the intercom, aware of his younger brother sitting in his home office glance up in interest. The last time Seto had gotten a home call from anyone other than business people was when a persistent telemarketer had disguised the real intention of his call and made it all the way to Kaiba with his false information before admitting he wanted to sell something.
"You can't tell a telemarketer or realize when someone's story doesn't work at all with what we're doing at the office? Why would I have been expecting a phone call from Industrial Illusions? I've been through with them for years!" That had been the mistake of the last secretary before this new one had arrived.
Playing with his dragon pendant, watching the eyes change color in the glass, Mokuba strained all his hearing toward his brother and all his attention on appearing as if he were doing no such thing. He doubted it worked with Seto, but it was always worth a try.
"Bakura. I told you not to worry; I've got everything under control."
"Yes, but we're—"
"It doesn't matter. I'm nearly finished and I'm sure we'll get a good grade."
"Part of the grade is on tea—"
"Oh? Who's going to say we didn't work together?"
A small silence fell over the line, and while the tension was nearly thick enough to see like a hazy smoke, Bakura's hesitant voice finally came back. "I'm not going to lie, Kaiba."
"I'm not asking you to lie."
Even more intrigued, Mokuba shifted position very slightly and went back to staring at his open math book without doing any of the problems. His older brother had turned his back more to Mokuba and sat up straighter in his high-backed chair if that were at all possible with how rigid he had been before.
"Yes, you are. What else would you have me say?"
"Don't say anything. Just put your name on the paper and we'll turn it in. She won't know otherwise."
How can she not? Bakura was thinking, but he didn't put that thought out into the heavy air.
"Why don't you just work with him on it, Seto?" Mokuba's plan to feign disinterest had disintegrated as quickly as a slug in salt.
"I don't have time for that, Mokuba," the elder Kaiba snapped before returning his attention to the phone call. He had not even cast a glance back at his brother with his head or even moved his eyes from where they were focused.
Unperturbed by what his brother's mood sounded like, Mokuba suddenly snapped his fingers. "I've got it! Seto, let me talk with him! I want to invite all of the gang over for a little excitement. We can even make it a sleepover. My birthday party!"
"Excuse me, Bakura." Putting a hand over the receiver, he turned to Mokuba. "Your birthday was a few months ago, Mokuba. There's no reason for a party now." He gave up trying to finish talking to Bakura, but simply hanging up was out of the question. Cynical, scathing, and biting he might be, but as a businessman, Seto Kaiba was not simply rude without good reason. And while it was tempting to think of making his point to his fellow student by slamming down the receiver, he had to admit that it wasn't a good enough reason to completely ignore the polite mannerisms his mother would have been proud to see him with.
"A sleepover between friends," Mokuba continued stubbornly, "for my birthday or just because I feel like having one. Come on, Seto, I've never had one before. Can't I just once, please?"
"A slumber party is for girls," he muttered in return, still doing his best to block the other end of the line from hearing this.
"Is not! It's for anyone who wants one! And I never said slumber party, I said a get together for friends and they happen to spend the night, too. My grades impressed you, I know it. Can't you give me some sort of reward for that? It'd convince me that it's good to do well in school, cement the teaching, you know, a type of conditioning. Pavlav's dogs."
"Not Pavlav's dogs. That would be classical conditioning, when hearing a bell at the same time as seeing food triggers saliva. This is the other kind of conditioning—operant conditioning that means the consequence of the action determines whether or not the action is repeated."
Giving an unconcerned shrug, Mokuba persisted, "So, it's a type of conditioning that would ensure I know doing well in school is important."
"It's not that easy, Mokuba. We're higher-level beings; we know about consequences to actions enough that a simple reward doesn't always mean that. And the reward should fit the action; getting good grades is enough of a reward for that."
Getting into a discussion with someone who was known as a genius never had good prospects. Mokuba had as much a chance of winning as a baby did when haggling for a cheaper price at buying goods.
"But it'd be a reward nonetheless, and that in itself would give me a strong knowledge that I was doing the right thing. Besides, being a higher-order being would mean that the reward doesn't necessarily have to fit the action; I can assign the meaning myself and understand it while a rodent or something couldn't."
Particularly proud of that argument, Mokuba beamed up at his brother, wondering if he even had a distant hope of seeing the discussion end there or if he would be forced to think again of some point on the spot.
Just by the tiniest of lights in Seto's eyes and the bit of quirk around his mouth, Mokuba knew he had made a valid point and Seto was pleased with him.
Raising the phone back to his ear, Kaiba said brusquely, "Bakura? Yes, tell everyone that my brother has invited them over for a party on Friday night—the one immediately before the assignment is due—and we can do the project then. Satisfied? All right, good-bye." Hanging up without giving the other a chance to stop stuttering or even ask if the gang could make it, Kaiba stood and looked sternly at his brother.
"Watch out, kiddo. That saying of being careful what you wish for came about for some reason, and I think one day you're going to figure out why."
He exited the room with his large strides, leaving Mokuba pondering what he had said and wondering just why a small dark seed had blossomed in his belly and seemed to be sending its shoots throughout the rest of him when his brother had been jesting.
(1): Reference to the manga, and no insult intended. The phrase was said in Téa's point of view, not the author's.