I will fully admit, here and now, that my image of the Turtle Game Shop is based on the comic shop where I play Dungeons & Dragons, and has no bearing whatsoever on the anime or the manga.
I have noticed that I've become very … selective when it comes to which canon elements I use when constructing a scene, and I've had some comments (okay, honestly, just the one) on other projects that paint this as a bad thing.
In response, I beg patience.
I promise I do this for a reason.
1.
After spending two weeks with them, as Winter Break came closer and closer, Seto brought his new students to the Turtle. Huan, Aisha, and Lee all knew how important this place was, and they were all excited to go; it felt like a field trip. Here, within these walls, beneath this roof, history had been made. Five years ago, on a whim, their coach had come here looking for a rare card.
It wasn't his finest moment, and they all knew it, but all the same there was no denying the significance of it. Without that moment, without that decision, what might Magic & Wizards have become? Would the Duel Disk had even been created? Would Battle City had ever happened? It was impossible to know.
The Turtle Game Shop was a small, unassuming place. There were shelves displaying board games and cards games and various roleplaying books. There were dice and miniatures and other knickknacks on display beneath the counter. Shelves and shelves of booster boxes for any number of collectible card games. Posters for various comic books and movie announcements were framed and hung on the walls.
Yugi Mutou was currently at the front counter. As the small group approached, he bowed his head. "Welcome to the Turtle." He eyed Seto with a smile on his face. "What can I do for you today?"
Seto gave a brief nod. His attitude toward Yugi Mutou had always been something of a mystery for most people who had followed their rivalry over the years. There had always been an understanding between them that their various audiences had never quite followed.
Seto had never been particularly friendly with Yugi.
But that didn't mean they weren't friends.
"My students," Seto said, sounding like he wanted to be deadpan but couldn't help but inject a little drama into it, "meet Yugi Mutou. The instrument of my undoing."
Yugi blinked. "Come on, now. You don't have to be like that about it."
Connor waved. So did Mokuba and Rebecca.
"Hello, Mister Mutou," said Huan, bowing low at the waist; she smiled.
"It's nice to meet you," said Aisha.
"Hi-hi," was Lee's offer.
Yugi offered a smile of his own, but he looked slightly confused. He turned his attention back to Seto. "Grandpa said something about a group coming in today to use one of the tables. I'm sure that must be you guys. But what's this about students? What are you up to?"
Seto smirked. "East Rivers Middle School is now home to a new dueling club. I have signed on as their coach."
He gestured again.
"May I introduce the Riverside Wyverns."
2.
"Man," Joey said, watching from nearby as Seto set up his students for warm-up matches against each other, "life's got a way of just . . . throwing everything around until you got no idea what's going on anymore." He grinned at Yugi. "You ever figure you'd see this? Kaiba, frickin' Kaiba, teachin' a bunch of kids how to duel?"
Yugi hummed as he tapped out a particular rhythm on the counter with his fingers. "I mean, it kind of makes sense. He's only ever really talked about what he wants to do to shape the future. I used to wonder if he meant his future, but I don't think so. I think this is what he meant."
"Mm." Joey nodded. "Guess you're right about that. Always talked about the future, didn't he? And y'know, what with KaibaLand 'n everything. Did you know that kids get in free? Like, basically anyone under 18 gets into that place for nothin'. Adults gotta buy tickets, but they ain't that expensive. I dunno where Kaiba gets his money from that place, but it ain't from ticket sales."
"I kind of doubt he cares about the money," Yugi murmured. "Once you reach a certain level, it can't matter that much, can it?"
"I dunno, man. I've seen rich people talk before. They're always goin' on about maximizing profits and all that shit. It don't matter how much cash they got. They always want more. Kaiba, though. I think Kaiba's a weird one. Outlier, y'know? Dude just throws money at everything."
"That's what money's for, though."
"I know that. You know that. And I guess he knows that. But most rich assholes got no idea."
Seto stood to one side of the table as the children played. Every once in a while one of them would ask a question, and he would answer, but for the most part he simply watched. Yugi found himself thinking of the way that his grandfather tended to teach people when they came to him for dueling advice. Joey was the foremost example.
There was no comparing the two of them.
Solomon Mutou was a strict taskmaster. Seto Kaiba was a quiet, steadfast mentor.
Neither Yugi nor Joey missed the fact that there was a quiet little smile on Seto's face as he watched his students. He looked at peace. They both found themselves trying to picture the bitter, jaded, angry kid they'd met all those years ago, and couldn't.
"Wouldn't picture this guy tellin' 'em victory is everything," Joey murmured. "Second place is just the first loser. In the arena, there's no such thing as friends." Aisha and Huan started laughing about something; they pointed to their game mats and soon the entire group was in a fit.
"We all grow," Yugi said. "We're still at that age where a couple years can mean turning into a completely different person." He glanced up at Joey. "Six years ago you were 'teaching' me how to 'be a man.'" He made quotes with his fingers. "What would you say to that kid now?"
"Getcher head outta yer ass," Joey muttered. "Takin' that macho bullshit too seriously. Think o' who taught you all that. What good's he done for anybody? Why bother trusting him?"
Yugi smiled, but it was a sad smile. "I bet Kaiba would have some similar things to say to the kid he used to be."
"Remember," Seto said, "if you're paying attention, you'll learn more from one loss than from a hundred victories. Constant winning only cements your habits. It's always worked before, why wouldn't it work now? That kind of thinking will only result in you being completely unable to react the first time it doesn't work. You'll freeze. And then you'll be on the defensive for the rest of the match. You'll only make more and more mistakes, desperately trying to get things back on track."
Mokuba had a doting smile on his face as he listened to his brother talk.
Yugi chuckled, more to himself than anyone else. "Who are you?" he asked.
Joey was nodding along. "I dunno. But I think I like him."
3.
"I know you're busy, sir, and I apologize ahead of time, but I figured you would want to hear this."
Seto frowned, excused himself, and left the shop. "What is it, Roland?" he asked, putting on another face. He had two fingers up against his ear, and some part of him figured he must look like every secret agent cliché on the market. He found a smirk at that, but it vanished almost immediately.
"The gang of children from the young master's school, who were present during the . . . incident. They've apparently scattered to the four winds. I'm not sure if you want me to keep tabs on them, but the only one we can locate anymore is the Hunter boy. And as far as anyone can tell, he's keeping his nose clean."
Seto frowned. "He was their leader."
"He was. It seems he's shed himself of that identity."
"Hnh. Fine. Keep an eye on things. Report back if you find anything."
"Understood."
Seto sighed, and stared up at the sky for a while. He knew that Mokuba was hoping for life to calm down, and some part of Seto thought it just might be possible. But he couldn't help but let that old paranoia sink into him. He didn't like questions. Not like this. He didn't like games, or mysteries, like this. The answers were never simple, and they never turned out good for either him or Mokuba. Where had they gone? What were they doing? Matthew Kerns had disappeared off the face of the world for a while, and he'd come back with a revolver. What might these idiot kids, no smarter than Kerns but even more convinced of their immortality, be planning? Especially if the one holding the leash had abandoned them?
"What was that about, big man?"
Seto turned to face Joey, thought about saying nothing, then discarded that thought as quickly as he'd had it. "Roland," he said. "Apparently the boys involved in . . . the incident have disappeared. All except the ringleader. There's no real sign of where they've gone or what they're up to . . . yet."
Joey's face turned grave. "Uh-huh."
Seto raised an eyebrow. "You sound unsurprised."
". . . Mokuba told me once, about somethin'. He says 'I don't know' is a euphemism when it comes to you 'n Roland. He says y'all don't usually say those particular words, because even if you know next to nothing about somethin', you'll take a guess based on what little you do know."
Seto knew what Joey was talking about, but didn't particularly like that he knew. It had always been an unspoken agreement between himself and Mokuba: when Seto said I don't know, Mokuba was to drop the subject. It was the end of the discussion. No matter how many questions Mokuba still had. No matter what Seto actually knew.
What happened to Mama and Papa? I don't know.
What happened to Otousama? I don't know.
What happened to Daimon? What happened to Saruwatari? I don't know.
"Mm," said Seto, because he wasn't sure what else to say.
"He said it's code. It means that, even if you do know the answer to his question, he's not supposed to push any further. For his own good. That about the size of it?"
"For the most part. Yes." Then, guessing where Joey was headed with this, Seto decided to play his part in this little dance. He asked: "What happened to the witnesses that were present when Matthew Kerns shot you?"
Joey looked Seto dead in the eye and said: "I don't know."
4.
"Joey. Don't do this to me. I'm not going to tell him . . . I'm not . . . I can't . . ."
Joey held up a hand. "It ain't like that, man. Trust me. Roland may not know where to look, but I do. It's . . . it's good. Y'ain't gotta worry about it."
Seto gave Joey a searching look. "Roland is the best security operative in this city. You know what he doesn't?"
"Trust me on this one. I have a history on the mean streets Roland don't have. I know what I'm talkin' about here." He winked. "I did a bit of preemptive work, before anything could get too far outta hand."
Something scratched at the back of Seto's memory, and he thought he understood what the man was saying. He drew in a breath. "Fine. I offered to hire you onto my team. It was an offer made in good faith. I'll trust your word." He paused. "If anything, anything, even starts to go south on this . . ."
"I'll ring ya up quick as buttah, my brothah," Joey said, then grinned. "Be cool, man. I got this. Go on back inside and shape the next generation. This ain't somethin' ya gotta worry about."
Seto found, despite his better judgment, that he trusted Joey's word.
It wasn't just a performative gesture.
He really, truly trusted Joey Wheeler.
Seto rolled his eyes, shook his head, and clapped Joey's shoulder as he headed back toward the shop. "Heaven help us all," he said, "I believe you."
"I can feel the love, man."
Joey grinned as he followed Seto back inside.
5.
Rebecca used a grand total of fifteen different decks to play against her teammates that afternoon. Mokuba had three. Huan, Aisha, Lee, and Connor all had a single deck. They rolled dice, flipped coins, and played rock-paper-scissors to determine their opponents. There was no particular rhyme or reason to their practices. So long as cards were being played, Seto seemed satisfied.
"Okay, so . . . in first place," Mokuba said, "we've got Rebecca with 19 wins. Then Huan with 12." Mokuba was the one who kept track of everyone's win-loss record, but he only ever mentioned the top two players at any given moment. He seemed to think that any more would be superfluous.
"I'm kinda surprised you're not higher up in the polls," said Lee. He looked like he was expecting some kind of snappish retort, half-nervous and half-giddy. Like he knew it was a risky thing to say but he just couldn't help himself.
Mokuba shrugged. "I'm more of a Capmon kid. I only started dueling a little bit ago. Like, I dunno, six months? Who knows."
"But you were there for all of your brother's best duels, weren't you?"
"Yeah, but you try to pay attention to what's going on in the game when all the lights are flashing and the holograms are howling and the duelists are all yelling things at each other. I could tell you, like, 98% of the things my brother said during all those matches. But if you asked me what cards he used . . . I have no idea. Other than the obvious, anyway. I don't think Niisama's not used the Blue-Eyes in five years."
Lee frowned. ". . . Yeah, okay. That makes sense, I guess. I've been to some concerts with my dad. I don't remember much about them. They were fun, though."
Mokuba nodded. "Watching a duel up close is an event. Unless you're already tournament-level, it's almost impossible to keep up with them unless you've got a rewind button."
"Do you wear earplugs? How loud are those holograms?" Connor asked.
"I started wearing earplugs to a lot of events," Mokuba said. "Things get pretty loud in general. But usually that's just for the crowd. Niisama's always been pretty big on making sure the audience is happy. He likes to put on a show."
"I'll say he does," Rebecca said. "He's a legend."
"Nobody dueled like that until Mister Kaiba did," Aisha put in.
"My mom and dad think it's weird," Huan said, "but I always thought it was really cool. It's like watching wrestling, except with dragons and demons and skeletons and stuff."
"I wonder if Solid Vision will ever be used for, like, TV and movies," Connor mused. "I bet there would be a whole bunch of stuff you could do with that. For CGI and all. Maybe even costumes."
"Niisama's talking to a few people about that." Mokuba flashed a secretive, impish little grin. "I can't say anything else. NDA, y'know. But . . . keep an eye out. It's gonna be frickin' great."
Seto came back inside, Joey Wheeler behind him. They seemed to be whispering to each other, or trading jabs, or something in between. They seemed jovial enough, but there was something about the way Seto walked that Mokuba and Connor both noticed: he was stiff. His hands were at his sides, but they kept curling and uncurling into fists. Neither boy was surprised when, upon returning to the table, Seto immediately drew out his own cards and began to shuffle them.
Joey followed along and sat down in a folding chair nearby. He said: "So this is the new blood, huh?" Seto nodded. "Nice, man. Nice. Wish there'd been dueling clubs when I was in school. Might've made somethin' of myself."
"Joey Wheeler!" Aisha cried.
Huan blushed. "The Golden Firebrand!"
Lee was grinning. "We're just seeing all sorts of celebrities!"
Joey looked surprised at this reception, but certainly not displeased. "Golden Firebrand?" he asked. "Hey-hey! I like that! Where'd that come from, anyways?"
"People all over the Spellmonger forums call you that," said Huan. "They've got names for basically everybody. It's like a game!" She paused. "Spellmonger is a database that covers all kinds of dueling news and stuff like that. I'm a Platinum Member!"
"Golden Firebrand," Joey said again. He chuckled. "I'm into it." Then he looked over at Seto, struck by a sudden idea. "What's Kaiba's name, huh?"
Seto frowned. "That is hardly important."
"C'mon, what's his name? Tell me! Pretty please? I promise I won't hold it against him or do anything immature at all."
Huan smiled. "Mister Kaiba is the Dragon King."
Joey's mouth opened. ". . . Holy shit, that's fuckin' boss."
Seto said nothing, but he also looked rather pleased.
Yugi popped his head out from behind a miniatures display. "What's my name?" he asked, sounding more like an excited child than any of the excited children currently watching him.
"Mister Mutou?" Huan thought for a moment. "The Grand Vizier."
"Ooooh . . ." said Yugi, and he flashed a grin before returning to his post behind the main counter.
"Mister Kaiba?" asked Aisha, after a moment of silence. "I like playing cards with everybody, but are we really going to be ready for a tournament by next year? I watch duels all the time on TV, and they're always so fast and . . . complicated. None of our games are like that."
Seto considered this. "So far, I have been observing your individual playstyles. I already have some idea of Rebecca's habits and strategies. Same for Mokuba's. But the rest of you are new to me." He was still shuffling his cards. "I have a fair idea of how to proceed from here on out. Next week, we'll start on some individual lessons. But for right now . . . perhaps it is time to work in some alternative measures. How about an . . . example?"
Seto pulled his cards back into a pack and slammed them onto the table.
The six Wyverns were all watching him now.
Seto flashed a grin at Joey. "What say you, Firebrand?"
Joey quirked an eyebrow. ". . . Oh, you're on."
