Chapter 11 - In the Land of the Rising Sun

10/30/08

Disclaimer: I would like to tell you my deep dark secret. (drum roll…) I. OWN. YU-GI-OH. Complete truth. (Crosses fingers) This is the secret unreleased story behind Kaiba's parents that was never released because it had no children's card games. [Sigh] For some unknown and illogical reason (I blame amnesia), I decided to put it up on a fanfiction website.

...Anybody believe? I should hope not.

Anyone excited about the American elections coming up? I know that I am. Also, Happy Halloween!

Seto gazed out the window at the landscape of the winding roads that passed. He pressed his fingers against the window, shivering as the cold glass contacted them. Taking his hands off the window, he turned towards the front and rubbed both of his hands to warm himself. He was glad that his father had bought him the navy blue jassi coat instead of his usual winter jacket. The father insisted that they go shopping for basic winter items before they moved. This coat that he had purchased was one of the few remnants of his life in America.

His father, adorning a long gray belted trench coat, was seated next to him. He sat in the cramped vinyl backseat with Mokie at his left in a buckled car seat. From Domino City Airport, his father called a cab. There weren't too many suitcases as Seiji insisted that the move would be easier if they bought many of their belongings in Japan. Most of the furniture and various items were sold at a garage sale in America. The one item that he did not sell was his mother's computer. When Seto approached Seiji about this, he reassured him that it would not be sold.

It was unbelievable on how quickly his life had changed. Within a month his father actually managed to sell his home and move to Japan. Throughout the plane trip, his father constantly reassured him that he would love Japan, telling about how popular baseball was or about the festivals that he celebrated as a child.

As if either of them cared about baseball.

Japan, Seto decided, was a strange country. It was nothing like how the books had described it to be. The drivers sat on the wrong side of the car. The cars drove on the wrong side of the road. When he had seated himself into the cab, he was momentarily thrown off when he noticed that the steering wheel was on the right instead of the left that was typical of America. The Japanese pop that the driver had tuned the radio onto was different from anything that he had ever heard. Granted, he never cared much for music, and his father never showed more interest to it than he did, but the odd combination of notes that he heard on the radio were different from the heavy metal and hard rock that his uncle listened, the rock'n'roll that his mother used to play, or the jazz songs that his grandparents were so fond. There was also a sameness in the people that he had never seen in America. They all had the same slanted eyes that his father had. The similar shades of skin. His own blue eyes and brown hair stood out, making his features, ones which had been so commonplace in America, unusual.

The child placed a finger onto his lip thoughtfully. The almond-eyed man observed this, recognizing the boy's unusual reticence. Even if he was not a particularly talkative child, Seto was rarely quiet with him.

"A penny for your thoughts?" asked Seiji, breaking the looming silence.

Seto glanced at his father and sighed. "Daddy, we're in Japan. Pennies are useless."

"Then we better go to the bank and exchange it," Seiji joked lightly. "Though probably won't even buy you a snow cone."

The boy rolled his eyes. His father's jokes could be so corny sometimes. "So what's the point of giving pennies? Though if I compound my interest for all the pennies that you promise, it may be quite profitable," Seto spoke thoughtfully.

"Where did you hear that?"

"A book," the brunette replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "Miss Smith let me borrow a book that she got from the library. It's about how to make money and stuff."

"Ah. So that's how you got your idea to charge your classmates for 'homework help' fees." In early December Seiji had been called to a parent-teacher conference to be informed that Seto had been starting a side business during recess. Evidently, he had been charging his classmates a dollar-fifty per assignment.

Seto nodded. "The book says that you should use what you're good at to your 'ad-van-tage.'" The boy pronounced the last word slowly, smirking proudly at his usage. "There's a demand for homework. I'm good at it, so why shouldn't I make money off it?"

For a moment Seiji was not quite sure how to respond. One part of him wanted to laugh and praise the kid for his financial genius, but the logical side of told him that it was not good parenting to encourage this type of behavior. His paternal side won the internal tug-of-war and took over.

"Seto, you must let other people do their own homework. They must learn the material on their own, or you're robbing them of their learning experience."

Seto groaned. "I know. I know. You already took the money and gave it back to all the kids. I made fifty bucks too."

It took all of Seiji's self-restraint to refrain from smiling. As he was about to respond, the sounds of crying interrupted him. He turned towards the black-haired infant, who had awoken as the car bumped when it went over a pothole. Grabbing a baby bag, he fumbled through it for a pacifier and a bottle. His elder son turned away, forcing his full attention onto the scenery of the winter roads of Japan.

As Seiji fed the five-month-old with the bottle of infant formula, Seto glanced at him jealously. On several occasions his father had seated him and told him that the baby was a beloved younger brother, who needed him and was not responsible for his mother's death, despite whatever his Uncle Brian insisted. However, Seto did not feel any particular attachment to the baby. In his eyes the infant called Mokuba was nothing more than an unwanted guest. One who did nothing but sleep, cry, and poop.

It irritated that all the baby had to do was cry to get his father's attention. He might have been somewhat cute if he wasn't wailing or smelling, but that wasn't a common occurrence—

"Seto, I mentioned that we're moving back my old home. When I was a kid, I lived there with my parents. I had all kinds of fun there."

"Hmm."

"I mean it. There's always a small park that I would play with my friends. Also, there's shogi. It's basically like Japanese chess."

Seto did not particularly feel in the mood for another conversation on how wonderful that this chapter of their lives would be. He had heard too many of those within the last month. Besides, something else had been plaguing him since he arrived in Japan. "Have you ever seen a geisha?" the blue-eyed boy asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

"I saw a picture of one in a book about Japan that I was reading. I hear that they're Japanese prostitutes. So…have you seen one?"

"A few times," Seiji replied absentmindedly. "Wait. Did you just say prostitutes?" he cried, twisting to his son in shock. Seto nodded. "Who told you that?"

"Uncle Brian. He says that only thing that's worth going to Japan is to meet a geisha and getting laid. But I don't know why he would meet a geisha to get sleep. He could just take Grandpa's sleeping pills."

The car halted to a screeching stop. The driver turned around and informed them that they had reached their destination.

Seiji thanked the man and returned his attention to his son. "Seto, geisha are not prostitutes. Please don't repeat that or the sleeping pills in front of anyone else. Your Uncle Brian doesn't know what he's talking about. Their job is to entertain rich men."

"How do they do that?"

"Well, they dance, talk, and flirt…Seto," Seiji started. He sighed, gazing at his son seriously. "We're not visiting geishas."

Seiji picked up the infant from the car seat, while Seto grabbed his backpack and walked out of the cab. As Seiji paid the driver and headed towards the luggage in trunk, Seto stared at a two-story house before him. A small traditional Japanese-styled home stood with a thatched roof and wooden frame. Surrounded by various green shrubbery and small bonsai trees, a small pathway lead toward dark wooden steps. The building seemed oddly familiar to him, as if he had been there before. He couldn't quite place it, but...

"Seto, can you grab that bag over there?" Seiji motioned as he held onto the handle of a suitcase with one hand and the baby with the other. Seto obliged as he grabbed the green duffel bag and followed his father as he headed towards the front of the house. "Now Seto, you remember what we were talking about, right?"

Seto nodded in reply as he walked towards the door. Seiji let go of his heavy suitcase that he had been holding. In front of the dark wooden door, he paused for a few moments before he pressed the door bell. He turned towards his son and smiled nervously as Seto stared at the door, wondering why his father seemed on edge. The door opened to find a petite middle-aged woman in her early forties. She had a raven black hair that she tied in a conservative ponytail and wore a light green cotton kimono. The middle-aged woman eyed Seiji for a moment seriously as Seiji gulped. Then she gave a thin smile, one that did not reach his eyes.

"Seiji!" He weakly grinned as he heard the woman greet him heartily. "It's been such a long time!"

"It's been a while Hiroko." The dark-haired man nodded curtly.

"Oh, Seiji. Why must you be so formal with me? I am your first cousin after all."

"If my memory is correct, I don't remember such a warm greeting last time," Seiji replied stiffly. When he had last seen her, Hiroko had called him the scourge of the Nakamura family and a disgrace to the Japanese people.

"History is history, Seiji. Now, is this your new son?" Hiroko said enthusiastically as she eyed the dark-haired infant.

"Ah. yes. This is Mokuba. We call him Mokie. And you remember Seto." He stated as he glanced at his brunette-haired son.

"Of course," Hiroko replied dismissively. "He was so little when I last saw him. Well, marrying that American was good for one thing. You have two very good-looking kids."

"Thank you," he murmured uncomfortably. "How have you been?"

"Oh, I'm not as fortunate as you Seiji. Us ordinary folks have our problems too."

"I hear the economy is not going well in Japan. Has your husband been able to get a job?"

"Yes. He's working as a salary man at a small company now. Of course, he's not as lucky as you."

Seiji's shoulder muscles tightened. It was so typical of Hiroko to attribute all of his hard work to luck. Seiji didn't put much faith in that concept. Luck, Seiji believed, was an excuse that people gave because they were not at place in life that they wanted. Real luck was made when one had a goal, prepared diligently, and kept looking for opportunities till one worked out. Then, the world labeled you as 'lucky.'

"It's good to see that things are going well for you guys."

"Well, are you guys coming in? This is your home after all." Seto followed his father as his grip tightened onto the duffel bag as he entered the door of his house. The house was completely different from the old brick colonial home that he used to live in. The rooms were more similar in size and had sliding doors instead of the doors and empty hallways that he was used to. A few semblances of a sofa and a table had been assembled together in one room, but, for the most part, the rooms were bare except for a few tatami mats. "Well, the movers have still to come, but these things take time. They should arrive by next week," the woman continued as she led them to a square-sized room.

"Of course," Seiji agreed as he stopped to place his suitcase. "Well, I'm glad to hear that this place is neat. From what Jiro was saying, the state of the place was quite a mess."

The woman stiffened. "Well, maybe Jiro should stop being all talk because I assure you that I scrubbed the place till the very last inch."

"And thank you." Seiji replied, bowing his head in gratitude. "Seto, just leave the duffel bag near suitcase, okay?" Seto placed the duffel bag by the chair. Afterwards, he seated himself onto the sofa as he curiously looked around the place.

"Hm...I must ask, how is your son going to communicate if he doesn't speak Japanese? That'll be tough for him at school." The woman inspected the blue-eyed boy as he glanced around the room.

"Seto knows Japanese. I've been teaching him for years, but he's tired after the trip. It was a long flight."

"Really? So you haven't forgotten your culture after all." The middle-aged woman smirked at her younger cousin.

"Why would I? I am Japanese." Seiji's grip tightened onto the baby seat.

"Oh, I've heard so many stories of Japanese people going to other countries, and when they return, you can't tell the difference between them and a foreigner," she said, smiling a toothy grin.

"Well, I'm not one of them." He seated himself by his elder son and placed the baby seat with the infant next to him. While he took off his trench coat, Seiji asked, "Seto, are you thirsty?" The brunette nodded as he removed his coat to reveal his knitted sweater and blue jeans that he was wearing.

"I'll bring some water. Do you want some tea?" Seiji replied a small 'yes' as the woman eyed him severely. "Well, it's been a long time since you've had actual tea. I'll go make some." She headed towards the kitchen, sliding the door as she left.

Hiroko Ito was a traditional Japanese woman, a conservative housewife who disliked anything that stood out or out of the ordinary. Eleven years older than Seiji, she stayed true to her the traditional Japanese family values that she was brought up on a child. She took her place in the world as the responsible and upstanding housewife to her husband, the office worker. However, she was far different from Seiji's meek mother, who depended on her husband for her very livelihood. She was a smart and strong-willed woman who held her own will within her family. Although she was a firm believer that the man held the dominant role, no true decision was made in the Ito household without Hiroko's opinion.

Returning from the kitchen, the woman held a tray with a glass of water, two cups of tea, a teapot, and a small plate filled with snacks and placed it at a wooden table in front of them.

The boy eyed several long brown-coated biscuit sticks on the plate curiously. "What is this?" he pointed to the sticks in Japanese. His thick American accent soiled the words, sounding awkward as he spoke.

Hiroko laughed lightly. Seto frowned. He was not trying to be funny. "Oh. Poor child. Don't have it in America, do they? It's Pocky. Try it."

The boy grabbed the snack from the side without the brown coating. Taking a bite, he chewed onto a brown-colored side of it. He scrunched his eyes in disgust. "It's chocolate. I don't like chocolate."

"Another chocolate hater? He's just like you Seiji."

"Ah...well…"

"Let me introduce to my daughter. Jun?" she called sweetly. No one replied. "Jun. JUN!"

The sudden sound of loud plodding came over the pair of steps. The girl's voice screamed 'Coming' from another room. When she entered a room, Seto's eyes widened as he stared at the sight of the lanky fifteen-year-old.

This girl could not have been more different from his aunt.

The teenager had dyed peroxide blond pigtails and a fake bronze tan. Her heavy makeup was ridiculously gaudy. Her eyes were outlined with black eyeliner, and white concealer that covered her lips and eyes. If her makeup was gaudy or strange, it was nothing compared to her clothes. The teenager dressed unlike anyone that Seto had ever seen. She wore a long-sleeved tyedye shirt under a hot pink tank top, a bright yellow miniskirt, and bubblegum pink platform boots. On top of that she wore several brightly colored bangles, necklaces, and accessories.

All in all, Jun Ito was a ganguro girl.

"Mom, they could like hear you in America." The girl crossed her arms in annoyance as she eyed her relatives. "So here's Mr. U.S.A. and his halfies?"

"Jun—"

"Hey, like chill, Mom. It was you saying that—"

"Jun, this is your second cousin Seto and his baby brother Mokuba. This is your uncle Seiji. He's my first cousin. His father and my father are siblings, and—"

"Like, I get it. Cousins. Now, I'll sit." She plopped herself by the sofa, seating next to the biracial boy. "So you're the infamous black sheep that is the scourge of the honorable Nakamura family and soiled our name? The one who has brought nothing less than the Apocalypse to us all?"

Seiji nearly ogled at her as she looked at him earnestly. No clear response could come to his head.

However, Jun wasn't the kind of the girl who needed a response. It was perfectly normal for her to hold a full conversation without another person's half of it.

"I must say that I am disappointed. I was half-hoping someone from a motorcycle gang or a punk rocker or something. You look just like some ordinary corporate worker."

Suddenly, the image of his father in a punk rock outfit and a Mohawk entered Seto's mind briefly. It was, for lack of a better word, disturbing.

"Well," Seiji spoke, gaining some semblance of thought, "you must have been eleven since I've seen you. You look…taller."

"How's America Uncle Seiji?"

"Good."

"It must be really exciting compared to be in America compared to boring Japan. Like what do you do?"

"Well," Seiji started as the girl stared at him curiously. "I used to work in a construction firm as a manager, so I have some experience in corporate America. I used to be a civil engineer there, but I got promoted so worked in middle management for a while. We used to own a pretty big house in a very nice town, but we sold it—"

"Wow, I'm bored. I was like expecting someone exciting when I heard the dude who married the American chic was coming over. How disappointing!"

Hiroko laughed weakly, giving a quick glare to her unimpressed daughter. "Why don't you show Seto to his room? He's tired from the trip."

Jun rolled her eyes. "Great. I'm like stuck with a five-year-old."

"Hey! I'm seven."

"Whatever. Come on, kid." Seto grimaced at the condescending reference towards him as he grabbed his backpack and followed her as they headed towards the stairs. The teenager's complete disregard for him and his father irritated him. She lead him towards a small square-sized room that held nothing save for a tatami mat. He seated his backpack on the floor as he stared at her quietly.

"Why do you wear that stuff?" Seto asked, breaking the awkward silence between them.

"I don't believe to the same standards of beauty as every other Japanese girl," Jun replied haughtily. "My friends and I are unique, so we have our own special sense of style to stand out."

"So you dress just like your friends to be different?"

Jun glared as Seto grinned in a not-so-innocent manner. "Hey kid, I don't have any comics or anything, so you better figure out a way to entertain yourself."

"I don't like comics," Seto replied importantly.

"You don't? What an odd kid."

Seto narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "How about we play a game?"

"Choose what you want," she said as she stared at her painted pink nails indifferently.

"How about chess?"

"Like kid, don't cry on me when I win."

Seto smirked. "Oh, I don't plan to."

...

"So I hear that your son's a very talented boy?" the woman asked as she sipped her tea.

"WHAT? I JUST LOST TO A SEVEN-YEAR-OLD!" Loud screams and screeching ensued from upstairs as further sounds of stomping and loud laughter followed. Hiroko gaped at the source of the further screeching, blushing a bright tomato red as she heard a few curse words.

"You could say that academics are definitely a strength." He took another sip from his cup.

"Looks like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Hiroko replied awkwardly, returning her attention towards her cousin.

"Hmm."

"Well, it would be expected. You were the first in the family to go to college."

Seiji said nothing as he continued to sip tea from his cup. Seiji's father always dreamed that he would become a doctor or a police inspector. When he realized that his son had no talent for athletics whatsoever, he pushed his son towards his doctor dream. Therefore, his father had always put high expectations in education for him. His decision to become an engineer and study in America angered him. He had never approved of Seiji's amusement park plans.

"I suppose financially that you are set?"

Seiji put down his cup onto the table. He had expected that there would curiosity from his relatives' part on his sudden return. "I'm going to build that park that I always planned."

Hiroko laughed. "You mean that silly dream that you had as a child?"

"Yes." He grimaced at she snickered.

"Really Seiji? Japan's going through an economic recession, and you're going to build an amusement park for them?" She giggled hysterically, wiping the tears off her face. "You were always impractical. And exactly how are you going to build this 'park?'"

"I've been contacting people. Plus, I've got some money, but I plan to find some business partners. There are plenty of wealthy Japanese businessmen."

"Right," the woman drawled sarcastically. "There's plenty of wealthy men just willing to hand their money over to ordinary people with nothing but dreams. I suppose you'll be spending all of your time canvassing them too."

"I'm not stupid, Hiroko. I've gotten a job in a prestigious company for now."

"What kind of job?"

"Manager. The construction firm that I worked for had the opportunity to build the American headquarters of a Japanese company a long time ago. When they first offered, I was going to refuse because it would require me to move to Japan. However, I need to be here to work on the park, so I took it. I need money to support my kids."

"What prestigious company is it?"

"KaibaCorp." He picked up his cup of tea and took another sip.

Obviously, it took Seiji a lot longer than a month to sell his house, but that's how Seto sees it. His view of Japan is a bit skewed, but he's only seven.

You guys should look up ganguro girls. They have a very interesting sense of style.

To hateandkill-D, anonymous/signed...I'm not picky. Glad to know that you liked this chapter...Now a whole new chapter...in Japan.

To KasumiCho, yup. Brian doesn't have any chance at any popularity contests. He'd be one of those super cocky athletes that used to bully people in high school. I almost feel bad for him b/c he knows that he's partially responsible for the person's death that he loved the most

To The Duelist's Heiress, Seiji really needs his Laura. She's so straightforwards about her emotions, unlike Seiji. Of course I had to have Seto be nice about it...or I'd personally have spanked him if he threw a tantrum. Though many flames might come if the author actually came into the story out of nowhere and spanked a the chibi version of a canon character

To Sakura Takanouchi, I've read another stories (mostly oneshots) that discussed Kaiba bros relationship before his adoption, and Kaiba always seems to hate Mokuba for a minute, and then he likes him and feels overprotective after some adult tells him like one sentence. They're not bad stories, but that's not what I'm planning. Plus, little Seto's too stubborn for that. In this story anyway.

To loveroffics, the salt story was so related to the story. Seiji's love for Seto is like salt; he's not the type of person who always stands out or is special, but he'd do anything to protect that kid. Who knows what he's do to Gozaburo if he found out what we knew?

To ml101, lol. If Brian takes away from the pointless Tea-bashing, then I suppose an anti-Brian club might be worth it. The story part was the most fun to write in the chapter. Seto is not going to be patient because he's way too smart. He realizes how stupid the king was in the first place for asking his sons who loves him most. I adore writing kid Seto and his precociousness.

To Makai-Rahl, all kids listen to adults and do stupid things. Obviously, he'll grow up a bit in the story. As for Mokie, he doesn't really know anything, so he's not affected psychologically or anything.

To susie25, I am American. (Though I have family in Canada.) Part of why I chose Laura to be American. Of course, there are other reasons of course. Kaiba goes to America to build a Kaibaland park, if I'm correct.

To Meconopsis, little Seto is so freakin' cute. Naturally, I'd turn one of the coldest characters on the show into adorableness. The actual Seto Kaiba would not approve.

To WolfStar713, the grandparents, they are so judgmental of Seiji. He's hard-working, a good father, and was a good husband, but they still can't get over their prejudice to him. Plus, they, especially Frank, are desperate to hold anything of Laura's to him. Brian needs to stop acting like a victim, but that's his character. Also, I'm glad that you like that dragon touch.

To Kermita, I adore kids, but they can get annoying at times. They always ask so many questions or get in stupid arguments. It was a bit insane, but the younger ones usually get quiet if you tell them a crazy story or something. Thought, why not tell Seto a story, but not make it too sappy.