I started watching Yu-Gi-Oh! when I was about thirteen years old. Ish. I watched the English version—Yea, Fear That Which is Eternally Malignant—and because of that, I got used to certain truths. Character names. The location of Domino City. The nature of the Millennium Items.
I have since learned that these things are not, in fact, true. The second series anime waters down the original manga in several major ways, and the dubbed version of the second series anime somehow manages to do it again.
This is all to say that I'm slowly incorporating True™ YGO canon into my work.
This chapter is, in fact, the first time I've used the name "Sugoroku Mutou" in a story based on the anime. For whatever reason, that feels important to me. Hence, why I have mentioned it here.
I'll trouble you no longer. Let us begin.
1.
"You do recall, sir, that they told you everything could take more than a year to fully process. It's barely been a month. Aren't you . . . counting on things going your way just a little too fast? Have you even looked at any of the other children living there?"
Pegasus Crawford is a man whose gaze is somehow entrancing. Which is to say, it's much easier to talk to him when he isn't looking at you. Croquet often takes the time when his master is staring off into the distance—as is his wont—or else otherwise distracted, to say . . . contrary things.
Currently enraptured by watching the front gardens as he is, Pegasus isn't even vaguely pointed in Croquet's direction, which makes it much easier to say this. It isn't, however, easy. He can't help but think of a minefield.
". . . No fault of their own, I'm certain," Pegasus murmurs thoughtfully, "but none of the other children in this city, to say nothing of that orphanage, are remotely fit to take on the Sisyphean task of living with me." He turns his head, and Croquet can just barely see him wink. "Don't think I don't know that I'm difficult, Croquet. I'm a young upstart. New money. But regardless of that, I need an heir I can trust to take whatever I have, and build it into an empire tall enough to kick a hole in the sky."
"And you think Seto Yagami is that heir?"
"I know he is. That boy is destined for something great. I don't know what it is, but I intend to see it to fruition however I can. I see no reason why I shouldn't orchestrate things as well as I can to . . . well, not to sound barbaric about it, but claim him." The master's face stretches into a grin. "And his brother? Don't get me started."
"Pardon me? The little one is three years old. What could you possibly know about him?"
This question turns out to be the death knell for Croquet's flippant courage, because it causes Pegasus to turn around and look him straight in the face. His golden eye is gleaming. Seeming to laugh. "I know far more than you might think, my dear man. Trust me. Those two will take the world by the collar and wring its neck." He chuckles. "And I intend to help them do it."
"And, of course, if you claim your place as their father . . . whatever they do will be in your name."
Pegasus gestures dismissively. "I suppose. It's a nice thought, isn't it? Besides, dear little Seto is perfect for the type of life I can give him. Have you noticed how his personality molds itself to fit his needs? He's supremely adaptable, even at his age."
"Pardon me for saying so, sir, but I think you might be filling in blanks to suit what you want to see. He's adaptable, certainly. Smart. Quick-witted. But I think you might be getting your hopes up a touch too early. Again . . . it's only been a month."
Pegasus's expression turns soft, but somehow is made all the more predatory for it. He turns his attention back to the window at which he's been standing for the past two hours, looking like nothing so much as an old-age portrait of a medieval lord. And why not? He lives in a castle.
The master's gaze sweeps back over the gardens, and his grin turns private again.
He says, ". . . Is there any other way to hope, than for too much?"
2.
"No."
Miss Miller is stunned. She stares, blinks several times, looks around the room at the other students. It's like she needs proof, some second opinion, before she can admit what she's just heard. She schools herself up, frowns studiously, and says: "Show-and-tell isn't a game, Seto. It's a required assignment. You can't abstain."
"I just did," Seto says.
He has never spoken this way in class before. In hindsight, no one would be able to tell what it was that changed about him, what had caused this sudden upturn in dangerous nerve, but Téa Gardner knows what it is. Yugi Mutou knows what it is. They glance at each other, and Téa actually winks. Yugi smiles, hides that smile behind his hand, and tries not to succumb to a giggling fit.
Who, Téa wonders silently, could honestly blame Yugi for wanting to show off his new prize? He has a signed Black Magician now, something of which he is obscenely proud, and he had every right to expect his classmates to understand why this is exciting.
The fact that so many of their classmates laughed when Yugi brought his card in for show-and-tell, and the fact that Miss Miller let them laugh, is why Seto is suddenly grandstanding like this. That's the only reason that makes any kind of sense. Téa has been watching Seto Yagami for a month now, not just idly anymore but carefully, and he wouldn't jeopardize a grade for no reason. Sure, show-and-tell isn't much of a grade. "Come up to the front of the class and show us something you like" isn't exactly high science or advance mathematical theory.
It's a simple, stupid assignment to get kids used to public speaking.
But Seto Yagami doesn't get bad scores. Risking a zero like this . . . there's a reason.
Sticking up for Yugi is the only reason Téa can conjure up.
"Seto, come up here. Now."
"I refuse."
Miss Miller goes slightly pale. "Either you come up here and give your presentation, or you're going to the principal's office."
Seto finally stands up, grabbing his bag as he does so. He sidesteps his desk, turns to face the rest of the class, and bows low at the waist. This done, he turns to the door and leaves the classroom without another word.
The entire class sits in stunned silence for two full minutes.
Yugi is nearly biting through his lip to keep from laughing fit to rupture something delicate. Still hiding behind his hand, he turns to Téa and mouths: He's awesome!
Unlike last time Yugi proclaimed this, today Téa can't come up with a reason to refute it.
She smiles.
3.
This time, Yugi's grandfather is the one who offers Seto a ride home. This time, remembering what Missus Mutou said, Seto accepts without complaint. He bows, says thank you, and gets into the backseat with Téa. Yugi has claimed the front passenger seat.
Apparently, Yugi has been excited about show-and-tell this week, to the point that he told his grandfather all about it, because the first thing Sugoroku Mutou says when they get moving is: "How did it go?"
Yugi screws up his face into something that's trying to be nonchalant, and he says, "Not so good. They thought it was funny, I guess. Maybe I got too excited. Then Seto talked back to the teacher and everybody forgot about it."
Sugoroku gives Seto a quick glance before turning his attention back to the road. "Is that right?"
Seto shrugs self-consciously. "I . . . well . . . she couldn't control her classroom. I didn't feel like dealing with it, so I refused to go up for my turn. She sent me to the principal's office. But anyway, only two of us go up on the day we get assigned. Yugi went over his time. I would've been up there for maybe a minute."
"Hmmm . . ." is Sugoroku's response.
Seto doesn't say that he didn't want to go up for his turn because he'd brought his dueling deck, basically the same thing Yugi had, and didn't want to look like he was copying anybody. Also, he doesn't say that he didn't want anyone to laugh at him. None of this is at the forefront of his mind; Seto doesn't have any conscious idea that he is insecure.
He truly believes that he did it to teach his teacher a lesson.
He won't realize the other reasons until tonight, when he's lying in bed.
Sugoroku eventually decides to let the topic rest at this, and says, "Where are we headed today?"
"I have to go home," Téa replies. "Mom's making her special chicken soup for dinner. She says it's time I learn how to make it, too."
"Aye-aye!" Sugoroku glances at Seto next, who hasn't the faintest clue why. "What of you, greenhorn? Have you seen my illustrious cavalcade of knickknacks and novelties?"
Seto stares. "Huh?"
"He's asking if you've seen our shop," Yugi answers. His eyes sparkle. "You should come by! We've got a lot of cool stuff! You'd love it!" He gasps, and turns his attention to his grandfather. "Ooh! Ooh-ooh-ooh! Can I show him my puzzle?"
Sugoroku raises an eyebrow. "It's your puzzle, Yugi. Your possession, and your responsibility. You can show it to whomever you please." He says this with the bearing of an ancient philosopher delivering a warning to his king, much more than an elderly man talking to a little boy.
"Yeah!" Yugi turns around, nearly strangling himself on his seatbelt, and grins at Seto such that every single one of his teeth is visible. "Come on! It'll be fun!"
"I . . . I have to . . . my . . ."
"You're worried about Mokuba, aren't you?" Téa guesses. Seto flinches like he's just been struck by soft-spoken, insightful lightning. "He'll be okay. Miss Hathaway takes care of him when you're at school, doesn't she? She won't mind. That's her job."
". . . Yes. She . . . she does. I guess you're right."
Yugi opens his mouth to speak again, but Sugoroku puts a hand on his shoulder to silence him. "If you'd rather go home, that's perfect fine. But you're more than welcome to visit. I hear you've put together a dueling deck from Pegasus Crawford's own collection? That's what Yugi said. I'd certainly like to take a look at it, if you wouldn't mind." He winks with exaggerated emphasis. "I'm a bit of an enthusiast, myself."
Seto blinks. "You, Mister Mutou? Really?"
"Sure!" Yugi's grin, somehow, grows even wider. "He's been playing since the game first came out! He taught me how to play!"
An unconscious little smile sneaks onto Seto's face. And just behind it, a sharp gleam in his bright blue eyes.
"I'm . . . I want to beat Mister Crawford. He says I have to beat him, to earn the deck he gave me. Can you help me do that? Sir?"
Sugoroku Mutou grins like the Cheshire Cat; for just a moment, Seto pictures a younger man, resplendent in a midnight black tuxedo. The sort of man to put a notch in his belt every time his life flashes before his eyes.
"What say we find out together, young man?"