This chapter is, as stated in my previous author's note, a flashback chapter. This is important to consider because otherwise, it may be a bit confusing. Suffice it to say that the first four chapters that I have posted are based upon the theory that Mokuba has struck up a friendship with Yugi, Joey, and the others, which I note is a relatively common element of a lot of the fanfiction I've read in the past. It's easy to see why, I think.
However, this plot element is not introduced very heavily in canon, and thus must be accounted for if one is to craft a complete picture. This chapter, therefore, is set chronologically much earlier than the rest of the story, because this is when Mokuba's friendship with the primary "gang" first comes into being.
With that said, go forth and ponder.
1.
Plenty of people wondered.
How, why, they asked amongst themselves (because the only answer he ever gave was, "Why's it matter? Who're you?")? Why would someone like him be accepted by someone like that?
Joey Wheeler hadn't realized it at the time, nor would he for quite some time, but he and Seto Kaiba shared a very strict opinion on that matter (and a great deal many others): they - he - didn't care. It didn't bear speaking about, because how and why didn't matter.
Téa would have said that "friendship runs deeper than that," but Joey didn't even spare the time to think that, because it just didn't matter to him. What mattered to him was what.
And if Seto had ever really bothered to think about it, he would have probably come to a conclusion much closer to the truth than Téa Gardner: the reason Joey started hanging around with Mokuba Kaiba was because he needed someone to protect.
Yugi had toughened up over time, to the point where he no longer needed a bodyguard around. This was not to say that they'd grown distant; Joey Wheeler and Yugi Motou were just as inseparable as ever. But since Yugi had learned how to take care of himself - and since Serenity still lived with their mother and only visited a few days out of a given month - Joey was left ward-less.
Seto would have understood.
If he had cared.
And so the first time Mokuba asked Yugi if he could come over for a weekend, Joey was fully behind the idea - even though he didn't specifically realize why at the time.
It had been a Thursday, and he and Yugi had been playing speed-checkers (with Joey losing spectacularly) while Tristan made popcorn in the kitchen. Téa would have been there, but she was in New York, finally fulfilling her dream of studying dance, having received a full scholarship after her graduation from high school the previous year.
"Hello," Yugi answered when the phone rang. "Turtle Game Shop. This is Yugi speaking; how can I help you?"
Taking a break from making a fool of himself, Joey leaned back in his chair and listened.
"Oh!" Yugi said, sounding surprised. "Hi, Mokuba. How's it going? Great. Ah...hm? Oh! Oh, wow. Really? That sounds awesome. Sure; can't wait to...huh? Oh, well...no, I don't think so. Free this weekend, actually. Why?"
Yugi listened for a while, and an amused grin rose on his face. "Mokuba, don't sound so flustered. I'm not a game show. No, don't worry. I know what you're talking about. Of course you can. Yes, really. Whenever you like. Okay, then. Tomorrow. All right. Bye."
Yugi hung up and laughed. "Mokuba's coming over tomorrow," he said, and Joey raised an eyebrow. "I don't think he goes out much, 'cuz he sounded like he was giving a job interview or something."
Joey chuckled. "Well, cool. What's one more, huh? More the merrier 'n all that. Shoulda told 'im to buy us lobster for dinner or somethin'."
"Right. With how he sounded, he'd have thought I was serious."
"So'm I! Lobster's awesome, man!"
Yugi laughed.
Tristan came back into the room with a huge bowl of caramel popcorn. "What's up?" he asked. "Who's that on the phone?"
"Mokuba," Yugi said. "He's coming by tomorrow."
"What for?"
Yugi blinked. "Uh...hang out, I guess? Play a game, watch a movie? Whatever. I dunno."
"Huh," was Tristan's response.
Joey frowned, somewhat confused, but didn't bother asking why Tristan suddenly stopped talking very much. He went back to the checkerboard and decided it could wait.
It was probably nothing.
2.
Joey wasn't sure what he'd expected.
If forced to guess, he supposed he would have figured Mokuba to be dropped off at Yugi's in a limousine, by a personal driver, who would nod or bow as Mokuba stepped out - all prim and proper - and gave a nice, cultured little rich-boy wave.
He certainly hadn't figured that Kaiba would drive his brother to the Turtle Game Shop personally, in a sports car the likes of which actually brought a gasp out of Joey's lips.
Sleek, masterful, as if it had been hand-sculpted by some sort of god, Kaiba's private car was a metallic blue that had obviously been taken directly from his signature - the closest thing to a mascot Kaiba-Corp had - the Blue Eyes White Dragon. Joey had no idea what it was called ("Bugatti Veyron," he would find out later from Duke Devlin), but he couldn't help but stare.
Mokuba hopped out of his brother's vehicle with a backpack slung over his right shoulder, dressed in simple khaki pants and a light blue sweater over a white shirt. Kaiba, however, was dressed in what Joey would realize was his standard attire; not a flashy, eye-catching trench coat over a shirt and slacks, but a custom-tailored Kiton suit whose price tag would have looked more believable on the car.
Joey realized with a jolt as Kaiba strode quickly up the sidewalk beside his brother, that he couldn't for the life of him remember ever seeing the man dressed in anything else.
He put the mystifying (and absurd) thought out of his mind.
But another one came almost immediately on the heels of it: this was the first time he'd ever seen either Kaiba brother outside of a crisis. The first time he'd seen them...being themselves.
"Hey-hey, it's the little man," Joey said, chuckling, and Mokuba smiled. With a sideways glance at Yugi, the blond amended, "Littler man."
"Hey!" Yugi elbowed him. Mokuba laughed.
Kaiba stood a few feet behind, arms crossed over his chest, saying nothing. His face was absolutely still, a phenomenon he was well known for, but his eyes were so sharp and intense that it seemed like they were burning.
"Well, I gotta sweep up the porch real quick," Yugi told the ebon-haired heir of Kaiba-Corp, "so, uh...head on in. Make yourself at home."
Joey expected Kaiba to make some scathing remark - actually heard him say, "That heap is no more a home than the land it was dumped on" - before realizing that the man hadn't said a word. But the neutral line of his mouth lowered in a faint ghost of his trademark frown, and the fingers of his left hand dug into the opposite arm.
"'Kay," Mokuba said, but did not go toward the front door of the shop. Instead, he dropped his backpack and made his way back to his brother, hugging him tightly about the waist. "Bye, Niisama. I love you."
At those words, the tension in Kaiba's body evaporated, and Joey actually flinched at how much a simple smile could light up his face.
Kaiba ruffled his brother's hair affectionately, giving the boy a one-armed hug of his own. "Love you, too, kid," he said, and Joey flinched again at the sincerity he heard in the young executive's deep, gravelly voice. "Have fun."
Mokuba responded with a beaming grin as he hurried back to his discarded pack, picking it up and practically skipping up to Yugi's door. He turned and waved as he walked inside, and Kaiba responded by raising a hand.
Once Mokuba was out of sight, the hand dropped, and the faint - but so alien - smile on Kaiba's face vanished as quickly and startlingly as it had appeared. His hawk-like glare swept over Joey, Yugi, and Tristan as if he were a drill sergeant inspecting new recruits.
And he said, "Don't fuck this up for him."
Yugi blinked, Tristan rolled his eyes and frowned, but Joey made no reaction at all. It was like he'd fully expected it.
And he felt compelled to reply, "Understood."
3.
It was painfully obvious to Joey - and Yugi - that Mokuba had never spent the night at a friend's house before. The boy was giddy, so excited that it wouldn't have surprised either of them if his head popped off and showered the table with confetti.
It was a sad realization - had the poor kid ever had a friend outside of his brother? - but all the same, Mokuba's euphoria was infectious.
Joey couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so hard during a game of Jenga.
"Ah! Joey loses!" Mokuba declared.
"Damned if I do, you little cheat! Bumped m' arm!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Quitcher lyin', rich boy! I saw ya!"
Mokuba pushed Joey's elbow, smacking it against the edge of the table, and the blond groaned. "That was me bumping your arm," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Yeah?" Joey asked, and leaned over, grabbing Mokuba in a headlock and driving a knuckle into the top of his head with about as much force as a butterfly's breath. Mokuba laughed as he tried to wriggle his way out of the blond's grip. "Hm? Whazzat? Huh?"
"I'm sorry!" Mokuba cried, laughing harder. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
Joey let go and ruffled the boy's hair. "Yeah. S'right. Punk. A'right, that's it. Rematch, rich boy. Let's go."
Yugi grinned broadly as he set up the tower of blocks again, Joey, still laughing, turned his attention over to the other side of the room, where Tristan lounged on the couch, watching TV.
"Oi!" Joey called. "C'mon over here! Whatcha doin' over there, anyway? Party's this way, man!"
Tristan grunted distractedly. "Meh."
"C'mon, Tris," Joey prodded. "Play a game. Help me regain m' dignity. You'd be surprised how fun this frickin' thing is."
"...Not in the mood."
Joey blinked at his friend as if he were speaking Russian. "What? Whatcha mean, 'not in the mood?' Getcher ass over here!"
"I'm not...in the...mood."
Joey picked up a piece from the top of the Jenga tower and tossed it in Tristan's direction. His aim was true, and it bounced against the brunette's head. He chuckled.
"Will you lay off?" Tristan snarled, picking up the block and launching it back at Joey. His aim was just as true...It struck Mokuba right on the nose.
"Ow!" the boy cried, more in surprise than actual pain, falling backward against the table.
"Oh, shit!" Joey breathed. "You okay, kid?"
"Y-Yeah," Mokuba said softly, rubbing his nose as he looked at Tristan with an unreadable expression on his face.
Tristan said nothing. He turned his attention back to the television and acted as if nothing had happened. And Mokuba did not react with anger, as his brother might have, but simply continued to look at the man for another few seconds before turning his own head away and readjusting his chair.
Joey scowled.
"Uh...Joey...?" Yugi began, but didn't finish the sentence. Joey shot a withering glare at his friend, silencing him instantly, and shot to his feet, stalking toward Tristan like a predator on the hunt.
"Get up," he snapped coldly, and Mokuba blinked, surprised.
Tristan looked up at Joey for a moment before once again turning back to the TV. "Don't think so, no," he said nonchalantly.
Joey gripped his friend's left arm and hauled him to his feet. "Never were strong as me, Tris," he said sharply. "Now follow me."
He dragged Tristan toward the front door. The brunette grabbed his arm back, scowled, but followed Joey outside, grinding his teeth as though he expected to fight.
As Mokuba watched them leave, he thought they would.
4.
"All right, what the hell's your problem, man?"
"Never min-"
"I asked you a fuckin' question!" Joey snarled, stepping up so that his face was pressed nearly against Tristan's own. His brown eyes blazed, and Tristan took an involuntary step backward, nearly falling off the porch. "Now quit bein' a little bitch and answer it!"
Tristan looked as though he didn't want to be intimidated by his friend, but was rather obviously failing. Nonetheless, he regained his footing and pushed the blond away. "Back off, Joey."
"Save it!" Joey shot back. "Your mama taught you better'n to jus' stare at somebody after ya clock 'em in the fuckin' nose!"
Tristan quirked an eyebrow, frowning. "What do you care?"
Joey's scowl deepened. "If it'd been Kaiba? I prob'ly wouldn't. But it ain't. Jus' 'cuz he's got the same last name don't mean he's guilty o' nuttin'."
"Tch."
Joey growled incoherently and gripped Tristan by his shirt, pulling him forward. "So what?" he snapped. "Am I a drunk 'cuz I got my dad's name? Hm? That it?"
Tristan swallowed somewhat nervously. "...Of course not."
"So?"
Joey waited, releasing his grip on his friend's shirt and crossing his arms over his own, looking like he fully intended to stand there until the dawn of the Apocalypse if he had to.
Tristan was suddenly angry.
"You don't act like your dad's a goddamn hero!"
Joey scoffed. "'At's 'cuz he wasn't. He was a lazy, worthless sack o' booze 'n cheese puffs. You still ain't gainin' any ground, here."
Tristan scoffed in turn. "Oh, c'mon! Like it don't piss you off!"
"Kaiba pisses me off," Joey replied. "Mokuba don't."
"He acts like the guy's a saint!" Tristan cried, throwing out his arms in exasperation. "Like he's never done a damn thing wrong in his entire frickin' life!"
"To Mokuba, he hasn't. What's that gotta do with us?"
"How he treats us should matter!"
Joey raised an eyebrow, and his eyes glinted dangerously. "Should?" he repeated scathingly. "My dad should have gotten a goddamn job. My mom should give a shit about me. And you should lay off a little kid jus' tryna make a couple friends."
"If he wants to be friends with me," Tristan hissed, "then he's gonna hafta admit that his brother's an asshole."
Joey laughed bitterly. "Oh, well, don't you drive a bargain? How 'bout you admit that you're bein' a dick?"
"Screw off."
"You're bein' just as much an asshole to Mokuba as Kaiba is to us. And you're the one makin' demands?"
"Why're you defending that little-"
"Because he's a kid, Tris," Joey cut him off, "and he don't deserve this shit you're pullin' on him."
"I...don't like kids," Tristan said, somewhat defensively.
"Ch'yeah," Joey snorted. "Sure. That's why. Look, Tris, you really wanna give Kaiba ammo, here? He already just about hates us. You think treatin' his precious baby brother like shit's gonna make 'im write you a goddamn love letter?"
Tristan stared as if he couldn't believe he was hearing this. "Why should I give a damn what Kaiba thinks of-"
Joey barked a laugh as if he couldn't believe he was hearing this. "'Cuz he can beat the fuckin' hell out of both of us at once, that's why!" he all but shouted. "And he's rich enough to get away with it!"
"Let him try."
Joey smacked his forehead. "Oh, for the love of Christ, Tristan, shut up! You think I like admittin' Kaiba's stronger'n me? I don't. But it's true. First thing ya learn when yer on your own 'round here is to pick yer goddamn battles."
Tristan scoffed and turned his head. "Whatever."
Joey's teeth clenched, and so did his fists. "Tristan...knock this shit off. Mokuba's just tryna branch out, open up. He came to us, and Kaiba let him."
"Yeah, and fuckin' threatened us."
Joey wanted to punch him; his arm flinched upward as if he fully intended to. "Do you remember what I told you 'n Duke when ya first met Serenity?" he asked savagely.
Tristan blinked. "...You said if we came onto her, you'd kill us."
"Eh?" Joey's eyes went wide.
"Oh, that's different! You were just lookin' out for your..."
Tristan stopped, and Joey slapped him upside the head. "Ah-ha!" the blond snapped. "Ding goddamn ding, you idiot!"
Tristan scowled. "Defending Kaiba, now? Not really your style, is it, Joey?"
"I'm tellin' you to back off," Joey said sharply. "Mokuba ain't his brother, and don't gotta admit anything, to any of us. The kid ain't stupid. He knows his precious Niisama ain't perfect. Are we?"
The fire finally seemed to have gone out of Tristan's argument. He glanced sheepishly at the ground. "...No."
"Then who the hell're we to demand perfection?"
"...Fine."
Joey shouldered past the brunette and started to make his way back to the shop's front door. As he did, he turned. "Mokuba's a good kid," he said. "I like him, and if he wants t' be my friend, then I'm sure's hell gonna be his."
Tristan didn't respond.
"...Don't make me choose, Tristan," Joey continued, his voice low and somber, without a trace of anger anymore. "'Cuz right now, the scales ain't in your favor."
He walked inside.
5.
Tristan didn't come back inside for about fifteen minutes.
When he did, he didn't go back to the couch, but paced near the front counter, as if trying to think through something. Every so often, he glanced over at the other three, who had moved on from Jenga to a board game Yugi had made recently for a project.
Mokuba turned every so often to look at him, and whenever their eyes met, Tristan immediately averted his gaze. Eventually, the boy stopped, and focused on the game, wondering what it was he had done to make him so angry.
Surely, he thought, if Tristan were angry at him for something, wouldn't Joey be, too? But Joey wasn't. On the contrary, Joey was as friendly and full of laughter as Mokuba had ever seen him, and it was a nice, comforting feeling to know that he was allowed to take part in that laughter. To join in. To know that the laughter wouldn't stop on his account, like it had in the beginning.
Yugi, too, was having fun, and somehow Mokuba knew that they weren't putting on a show for his benefit, so as to keep Seto from retaliating. The atmosphere was light, and honest, and fun.
Except...
He turned again when he sensed that Tristan had begun walking, and watched as the brunette strode up to the table. Not just the table, but specifically toward Mokuba, and the boy half-expected to be punched.
Instead, Tristan looked down at him and sighed, hands flat at his sides, tugging at his jeans. "Uh...look, Mokuba. I...I, uh...well...fuck. I, uh...I'm sorry. A'right? Your nose okay?"
Mokuba blinked, surprised, and nodded. "Uh...yeah. Fine. Thanks. It was...just an accident."
"Right, right. Accident...hey, uh...we ain't, uh...got off on the right foot, I guess, so...um...start over?"
He held out a hand.
"Sure," Mokuba said, and shook it.
"I'm Tristan Taylor," the brunette said. "Sometimes I'm an asshole."
"Mokuba Kaiba," the boy replied. "Sometimes I live with one."
There was a beat of silence as the offhanded, nonchalant comment sank in. Tristan blinked, face blank for a good few seconds, and the handshake fell when his hand dropped limply back to his side.
And then he laughed.
Joey and Yugi joined in.
And Mokuba grinned.
Because he knew that they were friends, now.
END
I have taken certain liberties with Tristan's (or Honda's, if that's your thing) personality, here, but I feel that I have license to do that, because as characters go, he's not exactly developed. As you can tell just by looking at the preceding chapter, the guy lightens up after a while, but I thought it prudent to have this budding friendship have at least a bit of a rocky start, because the gap between Kaiba and the others is rather long, and building a bridge isn't exactly easy. But that is not to say it is especially difficult, because blood and mutual devotion aside, Seto and Mokuba are most certainly not the same breed of animal, if you take my meaning.
With Joey, I have attempted - as I have been doing for quite some time now - to merge his comical, laid back persona as seen in the second series anime during which most of the story takes place (beginning, of course, with Duelist Kingdom), with the hard-edged back-alley brawler we all know he was in that mythical first series, often called Season Zero, that never aired in English. They're very different characters, and I don't think that's fair. It doesn't give Joey justice, I think, and so I'm trying to fight that. You won't see the complete goofball sidekick here. You may see a bit of fun and laughing, in fact you'll probably see a lot of it, but behind that you have to remember:
Joey Wheeler can kick your ass.
