Mokuba clinked his fork against the side of his plate, twice, then caught himself. He reached for his orange juice like he could pretend he hadn't made any noise.

Seto sipped his coffee while reading an article on quantum computing on his tablet, idly scrolling, not exactly interested. Weekend breakfasts dragged on as long as Gozaburo decided to sit at the table, and even if Seto ate breakfast, he would have run out of ways to keep busy twenty minutes ago. He leaned back in his chair, counting the seconds in lines of text.

The dining table was too long for a household of three. If they ever had company over, or if Gozaburo let the staff eat with them, Seto wouldn't have minded it so much. But the only change to their dining setup in the last decade was that Mokuba moved to the other side of the table.

He wasn't two anymore, and didn't need Seto to help him with his meals.

"Mokuba," Gozaburo said, drawing both Seto and Mokuba's attention. They turned in unison, but Gozaburo's gaze stayed on his phone.

"Yes sir?" Mokuba asked in a quiet voice.

When Gozaburo didn't answer immediately, Seto thought Mokuba hadn't spoken loudly enough for his voice to carry across the room. But while the table was long, it wasn't that long. Gozaburo's silence was intentional, and it lasted.

"Daimon brought me the permission slip," he said at length.

"Oh," Mokuba said, and put his head down again. "We're meant to have them signed by Monday."

"What business does your class have touring a factory?"

"I'm not...I'm not sure," Mokuba said.

Seto put down his tablet. "It's a field trip. How many times can they tour a museum?"

"Museums change exhibits."

"Should I call the school to protest?" Seto asked, "Or are you going to sign the form?"

Gozaburo looked up to stare at Seto. "Make your point or stop talking."

"You sent him to the best school in the city and are questioning the teacher's decisions. Are you second-guessing your choice?"

Mokuba kicked Seto under the table and peeked up, practically pleading through his gaze for Seto to stop. Seto trusted the expression he gave back was reassuring. It had been a decade of putting up with this, and Seto was done caving to Gozaburo's every harsh tone.

If the situation were any different, he would have moved out the day he turned eighteen.

"You should call the school, Seto. I'm sure they'll be glad to listen to the complaints of a graduate student."

"They're your complaints."

"Coming from a governor, they have merit. An engineer in a pointless field has less sway."

"I'm not getting into politics."

"It's not too late for law school. You could actually make something of yourself."

Seto took a sip from his coffee and reopened the article. When he got up that morning, he hoped for a quiet weekend to get over everything that happened the night before. But this was starting off poorly, and boded well for a night of verbal chess.

"Given that you aren't planning to make the call, does that mean you'll give Daimon the signed form today?"

"Why don't you get it from my office after breakfast?"

And that was how Seto expected this would go. For Mokuba's sake, he didn't comment. They could duke it out in privacy.

"I will."

It might bring the end of breakfast more quickly. One problem at a time. Getting Mokuba away from the table and to the privacy of his bedroom would be a start. Then Seto and Gozaburo could have a more in-depth conversation in the office.

Seto finished his coffee, but it was another three minutes before Gozaburo pushed back his plate. The maid would come in for their dishes, so Seto stood as well. Before meeting Gozaburo in the office, he was going to see Mokuba to his room.

They walked out together.

"You don't need to keep doing this," Mokuba said when Seto had dropped him off.

Asking what Mokuba knew was the same as admitting there was anything to know. Seto refused to let on, even if Mokuba had his suspicions. He had never seen anything more than harsh words back and forth. He could think what he wanted as long as he never got confirmation.

"I'm just picking up the permission slip," Seto assured him. "I'll bring it back shortly."

Mokuba tried to stop him, but Seto walked away. He was ready to get on with the day, and had long gotten over the days of panicking over being summoned to the office. Seto didn't have to let Gozaburo do anything.

Seto didn't knock. He stepped in to find Gozaburo behind the large desk, standing with his arms behind his back. They were folded together easily, too calmly. Seto's gaze flickered over the rest of the room, searching for a reason. Nothing seemed out of place, save the permission slip on the middle of his desk.

"Have you signed it?"

"I shouldn't."

"Yours is the only signature they'll accept."

"He won't work in a factory."

"He will if he wants to."

Mokuba was thinking social work currently, but Seto would support whatever he decided to do. He was twelve. There was plenty of time to make up his mind. Maybe he would work in a factory to support something artistic, or because he preferred that sort of occupation.

"Don't be ridiculous. One of you two has to be someone."

"Which is possible without being a politician."

Gozaburo turned to face him. And then he opened his desk drawer.

Seto rolled his eyes and looked away. They had gone through this too many times. The collar was a threat that occasionally wasn't followed through on.

"Come, Seto."

Before Seto could determine whether he would obey, his phone vibrated. On a Saturday morning, the only person who would be texting was Ryou, and he assumed maybe Bakura wanted to meet to go over the night before. Pegasus hadn't said anything worth reporting on.

He checked his phone.

The surprise lasted a few seconds. Pegasus had promised soon.

I'm making use of your number, Seto. Are you free for dinner tonight?

"Seto."

Seto held up a finger while he texted back with his other hand.

I am.

"You don't get to dismiss me," Gozaburo said. "Come here."

"I'm making dinner plans with Pegasus."

The use of his name shocked Gozaburo enough he stepped around the desk. He crossed the room and took the phone from Seto's hand.

"You've told him no for a year."

"Amazing how interested he is in someone who won't amount to anything," Seto said, and took back his phone. "I may ask about it tonight at dinner."

"You'll do nothing tonight to diminish his view of the family."

The phone vibrated again, and Seto didn't bother hiding the screen from Gozaburo. This was his first time really having an upper hand, and he wanted to make the most of it.

I made us a reservation at Taki. Does seven work?

"Should I tell him no?" Seto asked. "You seem to have other plans for me today."

Seto needed to be careful not to let himself get too used to this. It was no wonder Gozaburo enjoyed the power plays so much. Getting to hold this over him was infinitely better than Seto thought it would be.

"Obviously you'll accept," Gozaburo said, but his jaw was tight.

"Obviously."

Seven works. I'll meet you there.

Seto didn't expect another message, so he pocketed his phone, gaze on Gozaburo to commit the frustrated expression to memory. If nothing came out of this, Seto would have the memory to replay.

"Now about Mokuba's permission slip."


Isono drove Seto to the restaurant in silence. Seto hadn't been before, and a quick search online confirmed this was the sort of restaurant he needed a suit for. The one he wore would be appropriate for any pictures that might be taken, and after the ones that surfaced from the night before, he needed to look more presentable.

Two guards stood at the entrance, and the parking lot was nearly empty.

"Be safe," Isono said.

"It's just dinner."

Isono didn't respond, but Seto knew what he was thinking. Nothing was just when Pegasus was involved. But Seto was still in a good mood from this morning, and dinner was the most innocent first date Pegasus could have offered. Even if he bought out the restaurant, the wait staff would be around. This was still public.

But when Seto went inside, he found a few people at the tables, but very few. Croquet was waiting for him at the hostess stand.

"Kaiba-san, Master Crawford is waiting for you on the terrace."

Seto followed Croquet through the dimly lit restaurant, and Pegasus stood when they walked outside. The terrace overlooked the lake and the distant mountains, which meant the traffic was on the other side of the building, cutting down the noise.

"Seto, I'm glad you could make it."

"I'll admit I didn't expect you to get use from my number so quickly."

"Well, I'm not often in the country," Pegasus said, and came around to pull the chair out for Seto. No one had done that for Seto before, and he was a bit uncomfortable at the gesture. He let Pegasus adjust it without comment.

"Have you eaten here before?" Pegasus asked, sitting down.

"I haven't. You'll have to recommend something for me."

"I hope I didn't interrupt your Saturday night."

"No," Seto said, and took the menu to look it over. "You saved me from a night of tinkering with a lens."

"Isn't that something you enjoy?"

"For the third night in a row? It gets stale."

"I took the liberty of ordering us wine before you got here. Do you have a preference, white or red?"

"I usually drink red."

When he did drink it at all. Gozaburo mostly kept scotch and bourbon in their house, and Seto never bothered to go buy his own alcohol. He guessed he could ask Misaki to pick some up at the store while she did their shopping.

The waiter came, and kept his eyes down while he poured their wine. Seto thanked him for it and Pegasus glanced out over the water.

Seto watched the waiter walk out, and realized Croquet was standing inside. There were guards stationed down between the restaurant and the water, but no one within earshot of him and Pegasus. It was just them.

"How are things going in your lab?"

"It's more space than I need. I'm going to be spending half this semester planning rather than building."

"You never know what it might shift into. You're breaking new ground. You'll be all over the front pages soon."

Seto laughed a little, and inclined his head. "I've been there a few times as of late."

"You have my most sincere apologies for that. It's a curse of being close to me."

"I assumed you enjoyed the spotlight," Seto said.

"It's a necessary price of keeping the world straight."

It was an interesting choice of words Seto chose not to comment on. Pegasus's rise had come quickly and with too much blood. Any peace there might have been came through death that wouldn't have otherwise happened. More would follow. More always followed.

"What else don't I know about you?"

"Probably the same amount as I don't know about you. Why did you chose to attend Domino University?"

"It's close to home," Seto said.

"How often do you visit?"

Seto shook his head. "I still live there."

Pegasus put down his glass, leaning forward a bit. "You continue to surprise. I was certain you were in a dorm, or an apartment at least."

"Staying in Domino was for my brother's sake. I plan to live at home until he graduates."

"You'll nearly be my age by that time."

"It's a big house."

But thinking about it brought the wine to his lips. He drank a large amount of the glass and forced down those thoughts.

"You two must be close."

"Mokuba's the best part of my life."

"What's he like?" Pegasus asked, resting his chin on his knuckles. "You said he was twelve?"

"He turned twelve in July. He's incredibly bright and fun to be around. Loves turtles and random acts of kindness, so long as no one knows he's the one behind them. He has a bad habit of randomly doing something for someone and leaving them without any explanation."

"I can hardly remember being that age. My father managed casinos, and he was always working. What I wouldn't have given for a sibling."

The waiter came out again, head still bowed, and asked if they were ready to order.

"I hadn't gotten a chance to look," Seto said, and before the waiter could offer to come back, added, "Why don't you pick for us both?"

"The salmon then. And we'll switch to a chardonnay with our meal."

Seto wondered how this waiter drew the short straw to be forced to wait on their table. Seto didn't feel significant enough to be sitting at it, and knew if he was taking their order, he would be overly concerned with getting everything perfect.

How did Pegasus Crawford treat the wait staff? He seemed like any other customer so far.

The man went back inside, and Seto returned his attention to Pegasus.

"I heard about the casinos before," he said.

"Those casinos were the bane of my childhood. Hollywood makes Vegas sound like a cartoon fantasy. So little focus is on the ugly side, the addiction, broken relationships, trash in the alleys and under the tables. It's easy to get swept into the chaos of the city."

"You didn't."

"I wanted my father's attention more than anything. Eventually I realized he strung me along with all the other addicts. My wife got me out."

"What made you decide to get into politics?"

"Seeing the corruption around me and no one deciding to do anything about it. Election after election, we were showered in promises of change, but things stayed the same. When Cecelia died, the world kept moving, although it was so much darker without her."

"I'm sorry you lost someone so young," Seto said. "Although, I doubt it gets easier with time."

"Do you remember your parents?" Pegasus asked.

"My mother died giving birth to Mokuba when I was twelve, and my father in an accident two years after. I remember them well."

Pegasus took a sip of his wine and angled toward the view only enough to signify a respectful distance during a conversation like this. Seto watched as he processed it.

"Is that why you call Kaiba by his given name?"

"He's never been my father."

Seto remembered his father vividly. While he had never been as warm or emotionally involved as Seto might have liked, Kaname worked diligently to provide for their family. He took on a third job after Mokuba had been born, and Seto told himself it was to take care of them, not to avoid looking at the boy with his dead wife's eyes.

"Kaiba's never struck me as the sort to take compassion on orphans."

"He isn't, unless you count a publicity check every now and again."

"I don't."

"Like anyone with common sense."

Pegasus crossed his legs toward Seto, lightly knocking the table when he did. He put a hand on the edge as if expecting a water glass to go tumbling.

"What made up his mind?"

"I did. I wanted Mokuba to grow up somewhere better, where he would have the chance to be who he wanted."

It had driven Seto's every decision since lowering Kaname into the ground. He was Mokuba's only parent, and would ensure he had a better life than their own could have offered.

"And what does he want to do?"

"Social work. Although last month, he was considering being a scuba instructor."

"Does he scuba?"

"No."

Pegasus laughed a bit, breaking the tension and putting an end to their heavier line of questioning. "I'll have to meet him. You're smitten."

"I raised him."

"And yourself."

"In recent years."

"And what are you most proud of accomplishing? Let's say Mokuba aside, since he's the obvious answer."

Seto had been asked this question when applying to Domino University's graduate program, and he lied during the interview. He told them he was most proud of single-handedly winning a robotics tournament two years before, when he designed a machine that could complete an outdoor obstacle course. He had done that, but it hadn't been anything to boast about. People were always winning some tournament or another.

"I haven't yet," Seto admitted. "My to-do list is long and lofty. I've spent ten years getting in position to complete any of them."

Pegasus's lip twitched before he caught himself.

"You always did strike me as the sort of person to never feel enough."

It was Seto's turn to laugh. "Despite how I might come across around you, I'm anything but humble."

"I have no doubt of that. Your standards are infinitely high."

"Science is getting closer to infinity by the day."

"And your first stepping stone to it will be the projector?"

Seto nodded. He hadn't told the truth about this before when Pegasus asked, and given that he hoped to maintain some clear distance between them, owning up to his plans could aid the distance or add further interest.

He couldn't be expected to maintain this and not open up at all.

"The projector is a small piece of a bigger goal. I can't do the majority of my list without it."

"Have you considered storytelling? I'm positively captivated."

Pegasus was looking at him again, with that same expression from the gala. His interest in Seto's project was sincere.

"I want to create a new sort of gaming," Seto said. He could count on his fingers the people he had told that to. "Bring the games out of the console, into the real world."

"You said you wanted to make the holograms tangible. Would that be so they could interact with the players?"

"Partially. But if I can give them a solid appearance, even some sensation, then the games played with them will feel real."

Pegasus ran his fingers up the stem of his glass. "If I'm imagining Pokemon, is that an appropriate mental image?"

"It could be. Players bring their devices, set them up, and then battle with projections of the cards between them."

"I hope you don't take offense, Seto, because while that does sound fascinating, it isn't the field I expected you to go into."

"I've given no indication of it."

"You certainly haven't. I didn't do you justice in my imaginings. Here I was expecting a new sort of video calling, and you're looking to revolutionize an entire industry."

"Give it five years. It wouldn't be imaginary then."

"Confidence suits you."

"Humility never has."

"What else do you see it being used for? Technology like that won't stay in a single field."

"I haven't given too much thought to the other uses. Medical training would be one. Preparing first responders. Possibly helping people working through past traumas."

That got even more thought from Pegasus, and he mulled it over for a minute before answering, "How would it be programmed? With the cards, I would imagine a set series of poses and actions. But for an entire scene?"

Seto had debated that issue as well. For this to be mass produced and widely used, the projections needed to be easy to create. Having a team of graphic arts design every wrinkle and hair wouldn't be feasible.

"That's another issue on my list."

"How long should I give this one? Seven years?"

From anyone else, that might have sounded condescending. But Seto didn't hear a trace of it in Pegasus's voice. Maybe a bit of teasing, but in the way Ryou teased when Seto talked ahead of himself, or exaggerated a story.

"Maybe six."

"You know, the day we met, you had oil on your hands."

"I did?" Seto asked. He thought back, but didn't remember it.

"Smudged along the side like you'd been working and accidentally grazed something. I wondered what business Kaiba's son had working with his hands."

"I could have been rebuilding a car."

"Have you met Kaiba-sama?"

Seto laughed again. "He would pitch a fit if any oil stained his garage."

"As if garage floors aren't notoriously covered in oil," Pegasus said. "You were doing something I didn't expect he would approve of."

"So it was unwashed hands that caught your eye?"

Pegasus rolled his eyes a bit, as if Seto was intentionally misunderstanding him. "When you put it like that, it doesn't sound nearly as romantic."

"I have been curious," Seto said.

"Did you think it was just your eyes?"

"The thought might have crossed my mind."

"They're intriguing, yes, but not nearly as much as Kaiba's son showing up to his office with evidence of manual labor on his hands."

"If we keep talking about Gozaburo, I'll need a bottle of wine to myself."

Pegasus held up his hands in surrender. "Why don't we find more common ground? The dragon fit in perfectly with the rest of my office."

"I wouldn't think a dragon was appropriate for an office."

"A home office, and why not? Who is going to say a word about it?"

Fair point.

"How does a dragon fit into the surrounding decor so easily?"

"The surrounding decor is also outlandish and bold," Pegasus said simply. "You didn't think I limited myself only to outlandish fashion?"

"I don't really know what I think at this point. You're a lot to figure out."

And better company than Seto expected. He had been worried tonight would be similar to talking to Gozaburo, that each sentence would need to be prepared for and spoken with caution. His initial fears had dissolved soon after sitting down.

Pegasus had been about to answer when their food was brought out. It came faster than Seto expected, even considering who his date was.

"May I get you anything else?" the waiter asked, and switched out their wine for the fresh glass.

"That's all," Pegasus said, and took a sip from his new glass as the waiter left them alone again.

"What are the chances they had every meal combination prepared for you?"

"Salmon cooks quickly," Pegasus pointed out. "But there's always a chance."

"I would assume they wanted me out more quickly."

"I won't hold your paranoia against you."

"That's hardly paranoia."

"No need to defend against it. I already said I wouldn't judge."

Seto unwrapped his cutlery. "You're going to make me own up to my faults."

"So long as you don't hold back either. I'm sure it's no surprise how often people tiptoe around me."

Seto couldn't blame them. The executions were public to keep people afraid. If Pegasus didn't want people to be afraid, then everything he had done contradicted it.

That was who Seto was talking to. This wasn't a normal dinner.

He couldn't forget that.

"You aren't surrounded by arguing politicians daily?"

"For the countries who signed our peace treaty, they have no reason to argue. Their needs and security are seen to."

Seto took a bite so he didn't have to answer the first thing that came to mind. The food was better than he expected, and he had already expected a lot. Everything tonight had turned out better than expected, as long as Seto didn't think too hard about it.

"You aren't keen on politics," Pegasus said.

"You were interested because I wasn't following Gozaburo's footsteps."

"And still am. Politics is a lot of my life."

"But you're a painter," Seto said. "An art and history enthusiast."

"And you're an engineer. We'll have to delve deeper than our surface to find commonalities, I fear."

Seto took another bite. "What do you fear? Learning mine or revealing yours?"

"Mine, naturally."

"I'll give you a month before I pry then."

"I'm astonished at your patience. I hardly have the stamina for it."

"What happened to piece by piece?"

Pegasus waved a hand casually, as if he hadn't considered how contradictory that might have sounded, and hadn't meant it that way. "Can you blame me for wanting to know everything, while also enjoying surprises?"

"Should I tell you something now to help build your interest and ease your curiosity?"

A car horn blared, and Pegasus glared out in the distance, although no cars were in sight. Seto amused himself for a moment with the thought of Pegasus tracking down the car for interrupting their moment. Security already surrounded them. They likely had access to street cameras.

"One freebie," Pegasus said. "Make me work for the rest."

"Top of my list is to build an amusement park. Maybe a chain of them."

"As long as it's not in Vegas, you have my full support."

The support was a surprise and unfamiliar. Pegasus had no reason to build up Seto, and could have used the same sort of insults Gozaburo constantly used. Seto couldn't comment on any of his references to violence, and would have had to agree with negative opinions of his work.

But Pegasus had only been encouraging.

"Is there anything you don't put your support behind?"

"Trying to decide how meaningful my support is?"

"I wouldn't have thought gaming or entertainment was one of your interests."

"I'm interested in your work," Pegasus said. "I have no doubts you'll be able to succeed wherever you put your focus."

"Why not? You haven't seen my work."

Seto's plans sounded extreme. They sounded improbable. He intended to create new technology and open amusement parks, starting with no backing or resources. Why would anyone blindly believe in that?

"You're a no-nonsense sort of person. You wouldn't advertise false fantasies."

"What about you?"

"You'll learn to tell the difference between my genuine plans and vain imaginings. Why am I getting the feeling you aren't use to the praise?"

"It doesn't mean quite as much coming from a twelve year old."

"You should be hearing it from everyone around you," Pegasus said, his tone incredibly telling, practically making its own point.

"You don't like Gozaburo," Seto said for him.

"See? There's something we have in common."

Seto took his wine to distract himself before he smiled. At least being caught in this relationship for a while didn't come with pretending Gozaburo was a decent person. Whether Pegasus thought he was an effective governor was a different conversation Seto didn't care to have.

"I'm sure we can find more than that."

Pegasus raised his glass, and Seto clinked his against it.

"I look forward to it."


Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!

You can expect an update the fourth weekend of October.