My family was robbed recently. Among other articles, my desktop computer was stolen. Thus, my work was stolen. The following chapter is spliced together from a backup draft of the story, smoothed out and streamlined to better fit the theme of the arc.
My first semester at University is coming to a close soon, and I hope to have a three-week break before the next; in that time, I intend to fully get back into the swing of this story. Those of you who have been following this story's side-project, "Blue Eyes, Violet Eyes," thank you very much for your support. Those of you who have been waiting for this story to be updated, I apologize for the delay and beg you have patience as I work to get it off the ground again.
There have been a lot of interruptions, and my creative partner hasn't been available online for quite a while, besides.
Enough excuses. Let's see what happens, shall we?
This is the first section of a two-part storyline: "What I Go to School For."
1.
"Does that brat ever shut up?"
"No," Daniel Elliot snarled with such savage anger that it didn't even sound sarcastic, "he doesn't. In fact—and here's the funny thing—he bitches in his sleep, just to piss you off."
Gregory Kelvin actually flinched and took a step backward. Daniel turned back to the crying child in front of him and glanced apologetically at the bus driver, who looked sympathetic but uncomfortable. She had tried to lift little Mokuba Yagami up to take him up to the bus, but hadn't been able to keep a hold on the tiny, surprisingly strong boy for more than a few seconds.
"No go!" Mokuba shouted. "No go! No weave!"
"Now, now, Mokuba-chan," Kristine Hathaway attempted to placate the boy. "It's okay. You're just going to school. Just for a little while, okay? It's okay, school is fun. Seto likes school. Seto goes to school."
Mokuba stopped crying just enough to look at the woman. "…Nii'tama?"
"That's right," Kristine said, smiling. "Don't you want to be like Niisama? Go to school? I bet he'll be proud of you. Niisama will be real proud of you. You're a big boy now, going to school. Don't you want to show Niisama what a big boy you are?"
"…Big boy," Mokuba murmured, thoughtfully. "I big boy."
"That's right," Kristine said, smiling.
"Nii'tama…big boy…" Mokuba murmured under his breath.
"Yes, Mokuba-chan," she said, "you're a big boy. Just like Niisama."
But as soon as the bus driver attempted to take Mokuba's hand, sudden fear shot into his big gray-violet eyes and he pulled away. Kelvin groaned, moving forward as if to grab the boy and throw him into the vehicle; he'd already made them late enough, and he had better things to do than watch grown adults play tug-of-war with a toddler. But Daniel Elliot stepped in front of him, and the fury in his usually bright, open face was enough to stop Kelvin in his tracks.
"Mokuba, it's okay!" Kristine tried again, but Mokuba continued to cry.
Until Seto Yagami, thin and quiet and far too cynical for his years, strode up to them. Mokuba thrust out his arms, crying for his brother, wanting him to save him from whatever cruel, hellish harpy this was who was trying to take him away, but Seto simply crossed his arms and stared into his brother's eyes with such unnerving calm that the younger boy stopped, confused and a bit frightened.
"Mokie?" Seto said, with the rising inflection of a born father. "What are you doing?"
"I…I…no weave! I 'cared, no weave, no bus!"
"You're just going to school," Seto said. His voice was soft now. Kristine and Daniel both saw that his eyes softened, too, as he saw just how frightened his tiny brother was. "You're going to go there to learn. Your alphabet, and your numbers, and important things like that. Just like when I was little. You have to learn things like this at school."
Mokuba pouted. "…Ha' tyoo?"
"Yes. You have to. Everybody has to. You're going to go to school and meet your teacher, and make new friends. You can tell me everything that happens at school when you get home later today, okay? Can you do that for me, Mokuba? Please?"
Mokuba looked around, looking like he was considering the request, and finally nodded. "I do," he said. "Nii'tama say pwease."
Seto gave his brother a bright, beaming smile. Mokuba's own face split into a grin. The older boy walked over and gave his brother a hug, kissed the top of his head, and ruffled his mass of black hair. "Thank you, Mokie," he said. "You go and have a good day, okay? I love you."
"Wuv tyoo, Nii'tama."
Seto smiled again, and Mokuba let the bus driver lead him away.
He turned his gaze to Gregory Kelvin, all warmth sloughing from his face like chalk from a blackboard swiped with a wet sponge. His blue eyes were suddenly cold, insulted, and condescending. It was clear that any sliver of respect the boy had ever had for Kelvin was now destroyed. And Kelvin, for his part, looked as if he finally understood just what that meant. "The brat might shut up faster if you didn't scream at him so much," Seto said mechanically, and bowed his head. "Mister Kelvin, sir."
He stalked away.
Daniel Elliot had to work hard to keep from bursting into laughter.
Kristine Hathaway looked sorrowfully at the boy, then closed her eyes and sighed.
Gregory Kelvin, for the first time, looked legitimately frightened.
2.
"Have a good day, all right, Mokuba?" Seto said softly as he pulled in front of East Rivers Middle School, a smile on his face that brightened his cobalt eyes. Mokuba smiled and nodded. "I called ahead to your principal and affirmed that everything's in order. You have your schedule?"
Mokuba nodded. "Yes, Niisama. I have it."
"Good," Seto said, looking satisfied. A few of the children walking up to the campus turned and looked at the car, talking to each other and pointing. Mokuba smiled again and hopped out, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
"Bye, Niisama," Mokuba said. Then he added, seemingly on impulse, "I…I love you."
The other children snickered, but Mokuba didn't seem to notice. Much.
Seto smiled. "Love you, too, kid. Have a good day."
When Mokuba stepped into Homeroom, he sat in the back of the room. Normally he would have taken one of the desks near the front, like his brother always said to do. Those few students in the front row were the ones most likely to learn something, and while the other students might mock those few, avoiding that wasn't worth the price. Of course, when he'd originally said this, Mokuba had asked why Seto himself hadn't sat in the front of the room when he'd been in school.
"I made the mistake of enrolling in an incompetent school district," Seto had answered, calmly as ever, looking like he'd fully expected that question (even smiled a little, as if he were pleased Mokuba had asked it). "I made the further mistake, based upon the first, of deciding I didn't need to pay attention. A mistake I won't allow you to make."
"You got straight A's in high school."
"I also didn't learn anything. I worked from my own intellect, and did nothing to further it."
And so Mokuba had made a habit of sitting in the front of the room. But this day, as he filed in with the rest of the students, he instinctually crossed the room for a back corner, finding that the idea of sitting in front, wholly visible with a multitude of eyes on his back, made him feel nervous. As his classmates began talking and laughing, waiting for the bell to ring to signify that class had started, Mokuba reached into his backpack for a book; always find a way to fine-tune your mind, Seto said, even in recreation.
The statement he would make later in Joanna Lorwell's class—that he had read and heard almost everything ever said or written about his brother—was not made in hyperbole; Mokuba made a point to keep up on Seto's public image, if only because he knew that Seto barely ever paid any attention to it at all. This day he was reading an anthology of essays called Minds of Modern Technology; specifically the 12th and 13th chapters.
Chapter 12 was dedicated to Seto. Chapter 13 was for their father.
…Perhaps the most astounding thing—a man named Doctor Julian Firestone had written—about Seto Kaiba is just how markedly similar he remains to his predecessor, even as he remains so starkly different. Consider first the transition made of the Kaiba Corporation, once the cornerstone of military technology. Now, under Seto's leadership, focus has shifted into the almost ridiculous realm of electronic gaming, and yet a commitment to the utmost of excellence makes that shift feel almost natural.
A second case: like Gozaburo Kaiba before him, Seto has procured an heir to his fortune. Some have made the connection between Mokuba Kaiba and Noa Kaiba, and that connection perhaps isn't so far off the mark; however, it is my conviction that the relationship between Gozaburo and his son was not unlike so many other "rich" families, and there was not much in the way of closeness or warmth to be found. Mokuba Kaiba carries much the same fiery streak of independence so often commented on about his late stepbrother, but in his case it seems more as though Seto has stoked this flame personally, with the intent of raising his young brother into a strong, capable man. There is warmth there, and an honorable, indeed noble, intent. And so, while comparisons may be made, it is in that intent that there is a most starkly opposed difference between the current Master Kaiba of Kaiba-Corp and the previous one…
"Hey, celebrity," somebody hissed, and Mokuba looked up. A boy was staring at him. He had black hair gelled up into spikes, and was dressed in slacks, loafers, and a polo shirt. "Heard you're bein' homeschooled. Why don't you go on back there? What'd you come here for? Nobody wants you here."
Normally, Mokuba would have ignored it. Normally, Mokuba would have let the jibe slide off of him like the proverbial water off a duck's back. But all of a sudden, the young Kaiba's insides froze up, and he couldn't find his voice. His mouth opened, and he tried to speak, but nothing came out.
He was suddenly terrified.
He had to get out of here.
This place…he had to…he—
"You should join the debate team, Nick," came a strangely familiar female voice. "What gems of scholarly wisdom will you impart on him next? Going to tell him to go back to Korea, because you're too stupid to know he's Japanese?"
Those students who heard the girl began to laugh, and the boy's face reddened.
Relief shot through Mokuba's body like a high-class narcotic.
"Oh, yeah, look at you," the boy tried to snarl, attempting to regain the upper hand he'd never had, "happy your girlfriend had to stick up for you? Huh?" Keeping a stranglehold on what equilibrium he had, Mokuba mumbled something. The boy leaned in close. "What'd you say, celebrity? Speak up."
"I said…that's not anatomically possible."
A beat of silence.
The girl snickered loudly. Several others howled with laughter. The bully looked confused. Mokuba returned to his reading. He could tell from the atmosphere of the room that he'd won, thanks in no small part to the girl. He glanced up at her as the bell rang, and roll was called.
"Hawkins, Rebecca?"
The girl raised a hand. "Here," she said.
Now Mokuba knew why her voice had been familiar. He found a smile. He raised a hand when his own name was called, and spent the rest of the period in silence. He finished Doctor Firestone's essay, and wondered just how weird it would be to give the man a call, or…maybe send him an email. That seemed easier. More convenient.
When the bell rang for them to go to their first real class of the day, Mokuba stopped at the door, holding it open as he waited for Rebecca. When the young genius passed him, looking almost exactly the same as he remembered her (minus the teddy bear), she smiled at him.
"…Thanks, Rebecca," Mokuba offered.
"Sure," she replied, and winked.
Mokuba surprised himself by winking back.
3.
He spent the day being paraded in front of each classroom like some kind of prized animal and introducing himself. Normally, this wouldn't have bothered him all that much, but this whole thing wasn't normal. Mokuba knew that this was odd, just like his tendency to head to the back of the room and avoid eye contact with anyone was odd. He knew, and it bothered him, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what to do about it. His body didn't seem to want to listen to anything his brain told him.
Mokuba only felt comfortable in two places anymore: at home in his room, or with his brother. Even with Yugi and Joey and the others, he felt off. Part of it, he thought, was that Seto had gotten so good at forcing people to leave him alone that a great many of them didn't bother to try anymore. Combined with the fact that Seto took charge of just about any situation (it was in his nature), this let Mokuba fade into the background, and he found that that was where he preferred to be lately.
By his fourth period, and thus his fourth "step up to the front of the room and tell us all a little bit about yourself" routine, Mokuba felt like he was going to snap, and just go crazy. But—and this was the only "but" he could find—at least Miss Lorwell was observant enough to notice that Mokuba was uncomfortable, and kind enough to be surprisingly gentle about the ordeal.
"We have a new student joining us today," she said, in a voice that Mokuba found he liked. It was strong, yet lilting; the voice of a stern but caring matron who wouldn't hesitate to be hard if she had to, but wouldn't if she didn't. She had dark brown hair, long and straight and hanging nearly to her waist. She was tall, not slender but not hefty, dressed in a cream-colored sweater and light blue jeans.
As usual, many of the other students murmured amongst themselves as Mokuba stood in front of the room, rubbing his fingertips with his thumbs and trying to ignore the nervousness twitching through him. Miss Lorwell put a hand on Mokuba's right shoulder, and he felt calmer.
"This is Mokuba," she said, after the conversation had dulled, and left it at that. She didn't mention his last name, although she knew it, and she didn't mention that he'd transferred to the school a year early, as his first period teacher had done. After the obligatory "Hi, Mokuba" resonated from the crowd, Miss Lorwell directed the young Kaiba to his seat and began her lesson. She didn't ask him to say anything, didn't ask him to tell the class anything about himself; she simply made sure the class knew he was there, and moved on.
Mokuba felt so grateful at this small gesture of kindness that he thought he might just kneel and kiss her feet if she asked. His fluttering heart calmed a bit, and he almost let himself relax. Instead, however, he reached into his backpack like he'd done four times already, and picked out a spiral-bound notebook. He began to take notes, just like Seto said to do, and when Miss Lorwell spotted him doing it, she smiled and nodded approvingly. But subtly, so that only Mokuba noticed.
Yes. He liked Miss Lorwell.
He liked her a great deal.
Mokuba didn't notice the blond boy sitting next to him all throughout the period, and when the bell rang for lunch, he didn't notice that the blond boy seemed to be trying to say something to him. He simply gathered up his things and left the room.
Connor Brinkley was left standing by his desk, embarrassed and frustrated with himself.
4.
Mokuba saw Rebecca Hawkins again at lunch.
Unlike his old school, where the students were ushered into a cafeteria to eat, East Rivers simply opened up the main courtyard. Food was available inside for those students who hadn't brought their own, but there were also picnic tables around the edges of the yard.
Mokuba thought for a moment about heading over to the cafeteria; the food looked far better than anything he had seen at Oakwood Elementary. But he decided against it. Seto had packed a lunch for him, had taken the time out of his busy, hectic morning to make him something. Mokuba would eat that.
Rebecca was walking over to a table where three other girls were waiting. Mokuba sped up and called out to her, fleetingly wondering what the hell he was doing. She stopped, turned, and smiled. "Ah. Hello, Mokuba," she said, inclining her head. The other girls gasped. They had recognized him.
"Hi," Mokuba said. "I, uh…wanted to thank you again. For…earlier."
"Oh, that's no problem," she said, her own smile widening. "Any excuse to knock him down a peg or two was just fine with me. I'm kind of surprised to see you. It's been a while, hasn't it?" Mokuba nodded. The last time he had seen her had been during the KC Grand Prix tournament. With a sudden jolt, he remembered who else had been at that tournament, and his countenance darkened. Rebecca blinked, looking surprised. "Oh. I'm…sorry. I…I didn't mean…"
"No, no…it's okay," Mokuba said quickly.
"So…I guess we're classmates now," Rebecca said, smiling. "Do you want to join us?" She gestured to the table, where the other girls were all staring at him. Mokuba felt suddenly nervous. She chuckled. "I see. No problem. I think I know why you'd rather not. Ah…I'll see you later?"
Mokuba nodded his head. "Sure. I…I'm sorry, but I need to call my brother. I promised I would. He wants to…know how my first day is going." Rebecca quirked an eyebrow. "He's…kind of overprotective…sometimes."
"Seto Kaiba, overprotective…" Rebecca repeated. "Sounds kind of weird. Ah—sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. It's just…well…he doesn't seem the type to…be protective of anything." She shrugged, looking slightly nervous.
Mokuba smiled. "It's okay. I hear that a lot."
"I bet you do. Well, I'll see you tomorrow in Homeroom, then?"
"Sure."
Mokuba waved as he left, and heard Rebecca's friends all clamoring to talk to her. He figured that Rebecca, like Seto, never bothered to pay much attention to the press, and maybe didn't know the extent of Mokuba's fame, and how it had been growing over the past few years. He guessed that the girls sitting at the table, though, did.
Mokuba hadn't actually intended to call his brother, but now that he thought about it, he realized that that's exactly what he wanted to do right now. He sat down at an empty table and fished out his phone, punching in the keys without looking.
"Hey, kiddo," Seto's voice came through the device a moment later. He sounded like he was smiling, Mokuba thought. "Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Niisama," Mokuba said, though he wasn't entirely sure he was telling the truth. "Everything's fine."
"That's good. You've been taking notes?"
Mokuba's smile, which had been creeping slowly onto his face, came full force. "Yes, Niisama."
Seto chuckled. "Good. Very good. Your instructors are…sufficient?"
This was Seto's "polite" way of asking if his teachers were absolute morons. "Yes, they're fine. I like my literature teacher. Miss Lorwell. She's nice, and she gives better lectures than the others. I met Rebecca Hawkins in Homeroom."
"Did you, now?" Another man might have asked how she was doing, how her grandfather was doing. Seto did not, however, and Mokuba hadn't expected him to. He had said it on impulse, not because he thought Seto would be actually interested. He didn't bother to mention the boy with the spiked hair.
"I like it here," Mokuba said. "It's nice."
"Good. I'm glad to hear it. I suspect you're on your lunch break. You should eat, Mokuba. I need to be going. I've a meeting in twenty minutes. I'll see you after school, and you can tell me more. All right?"
"You're picking me up?" Mokuba asked.
"Of course. I'll see you then."
"Okay. Bye, Niisama. Good luck."
Seto chuckled again. "Thank you, Mokuba. Goodbye."
Mokuba slipped his phone back into a pocket and reached over to his backpack, finally realizing that he was hungry. He hadn't asked what his brother had packed for him, and he wanted to see. The smile was still on his face as he pulled it out of his pack and set it in front of him.
The smile left as he realized someone was watching him. He looked up.
The boy with spiked hair was glaring at him.
"…Oh."
END.
Yes. Rebecca Hawkins. I know, I know. Trust me; there's a reason for the decision. She's generally despised by the general fandom, from my understanding. I personally have very little to stake in the argument, but I've seen enough to see why. She's very minimally developed, and generally annoying. She's a plot device.
I mentioned in early chapters that this story was meant to help flesh out the cast. This includes people I don't necessarily like. So, with this story arc, I wanted to explore what a few years would do to Yugi's Biggest, Bestest Fan. Seems she's calmed down a bit. I don't intend for her to take center stage, but she will have a distinct presence as the story goes on.
We'll be seeing a few more familiar faces as this arc goes on, as well as how Mokuba ends up meeting Connor Brinkley. So stick around school for a while; who knows? Maybe we'll all learn something.
