Kisara's first impression of the Kaiba Estate was that it was absolutely huge. In keeping with what she was beginning to learn was typical Seto Kaiba fashion, Seto had asked her for her license plate number so he could add her to a list of registered guests with his high-tech security system, as opposed to offering to pick her up or escort her in at the gate. The ornate wrought-iron gate swung open as Kisara approached in her silver sedan, revealing the estate behind the wall.
On one side of the road, there was the most gorgeous lawn Kisara had ever seen. The grass was beautifully verdant, an almost unnaturally dark green. On the other side of the path Kisara was driving, neatly-groomed fruit trees formed a lush, shady grove. She rounded a corner, pulling up to what was presumably a side entrance to the monstrous, white-shingled mansion, and parked under a tall, shady oak tree. Several dozen yards of green grass lay ahead, followed by a lazy, shimmering lake.
Kisara craned her neck to look at her reflection in the rear-view mirror. Only the neckline of her simple white dress was visible, but she knew that it was one of her more becoming looks. Her long, silvery hair was brushed and styled in a loose braid that swept over her shoulder and nearly touched her hip. She knew, empirically, that she looked about as attractive as it was possible for her to look.
And yet, she was anxious. It struck her as unusual that Seto Kaiba's first invitation to spend time with him was not to take her to dinner, or to see a movie, but to invite her to his mansion—but, as she was starting to discover, Seto Kaiba was an unusual, and almost reclusive, character. She still struggled with the cognitive dissonance between the narcissistic, handsome, wealthy playboy image she had pictured Seto Kaiba to be, with the quiet, introverted, and intense boy that she had spent the last few weeks getting to know.
Drawing in a deep breath, Kisara carefully closed the car door, tucked her hair behind her ear, and approached the house. For such an intimidating house, the entrance was plain and unassuming. She noticed with a smile that the welcome mat bore a picture of a Blue-Eyes White Dragon.
A gangly boy in a blue crew-neck sweatshirt that read "DOMINO HIGH" in varsity lettering answered the door. His black hair was messy and a little wavy, but otherwise not unlike Seto's.
Kisara gulped. "Er. I'm Kisara," she said. "I...I think I was going to visit Seto Kaiba?"
The boy's unusually violet eyes lit up, and his eyebrows raised. Awkwardly, Kisara realized that the boy must know who she was, and that she had likely been a topic of conversation at some point. The idea of Seto talking about her, and their...relationship...was daunting.
"Big brother!" the boy shouted excitedly. "There's someone here to see you!" The boy smiled at Kisara, and she smiled back, biting her lip nervously.
The echo of footsteps behind the boy heralded Seto's approach. The boy giggled, looking up at Seto. "Seto, someone's here to see you."
Seto nodded. "I can see that. Mokuba, this is Kisara. Kisara—my younger brother, and the vice president of KaibaCorp, Mokuba."
Mokuba promptly extended his hand, gushing with the kind of polite polish that came with being so important at such a young age. Kisara was surprised that Mokuba's easygoing manner was making her even more nervous.
"Come inside!" Mokuba chirped. Kisara followed the brothers into the Kaiba's ornate living room. Tall blue and white ceramic pots lined the entry, shrouding the doorway in feathery, verdant leaves. Inside, Kisara was amused to see an enormous portrait of the Kaiba brothers, sitting together behind the tail of a resting, gently curled Blue-Eyes White Dragon.
Kisara quickly got the sense that the Kaibas rarely entertained guests. Mokuba continued to watch her with bright, inquisitive eyes; Seto was seated in a black leather armchair, his arms folded across his chest. Noticeably absent were snacks, playing cards, music, or any of the typical pleasantries used to make guests feel more at ease. Kisara felt incredibly self-conscious as she draped her purse across the arm of the sofa, and sat down next to Mokuba.
"Have you guys eaten?" she suggested desperately. She had choked down a carrot muffin en route to the Kaiba estate, having been too nervous to eat properly, but she strongly suspected that there was nothing planned for them to do.
Mokuba shook his head. "I just finished breakfast," he announced. Seto shook his head, but said nothing.
There was a long, uncomfortable pause, and Kisara wrung her hands desperately. She had felt totally at ease talking with Seto on campus, especially during their machine learning project—there, she was in her element. Here, surrounded by the elegance of the Kaibas' home, she couldn't help but feel ill at ease. As students, Kisara and Seto had a lot in common, but driving from her dusty one-bedroom apartment to the Kaiba's residence underscored how different their lives really were.
"So...Mokuba...what grade are you in?" Kisara asked.
"Tenth," Mokuba responded.
"That's nice," Kisara offered. "What are you learning about?"
Mokuba rolled his eyes, and Kisara cringed internally; her questions were taken straight from the book of boring-yet-prying extended family talk. "We only learn about boring stuff at school. But I get to work on projects with KaibaCorp sometimes," Mokuba added.
Finally, something Kisara could relate to. "Really? What kind of projects?"
Mokuba looked ready to burst with excitement. "I've been working on a special project for the Duel Dome. Since a lot of our visitors are beginners at playing Duel Monsters, sometimes they don't know how to choose a deck. So I've been working on a program that gives them suggestions on what cards to pick, and updates based on their preferences as they continue adding cards to their deck."
Kisara's eyes widened. "That's awesome!" she said eagerly.
Mokuba looked at her coyly. "I have a whole team working for me," he bragged.
Seto suddenly broke his silence, side-eyeing his brother with amusement. "His team consists of two junior software developers and our part-time college intern. It's just important for everyone to learn collaborative coding early in their career, Mokuba included."
"Hey!" Mokuba responded indignantly, and Kisara smiled.
"He's right, you know," she offered.
Mokuba mock-pouted for a moment before recovering with a quick, "so, Kisara, are you Seto's girlfriend?" He looked smugly at his older brother, who for once looked caught off-guard, his usually stony blue eyes wide and anxious.
"Aaaaaahhhh..." Kisara said, looking pleadingly at Seto. "Umm..."
"Kisara's a friend, Mokuba," Seto said firmly, pointedly avoiding looking at Kisara.
Mokuba smirked. "But Seto, you said that you don't have any friends."
Kisara thought she could detect the faintest trace of pink flushing across Seto's cheeks. "Kisara is...unique," Seto said stiffly.
"She's your special friend," Mokuba responded emphatically.
Seto sighed. "Fine Mokuba. But enough of that."
At this point, both Seto and Kisara's faces were flushed bright red. Kisara could feel her pulse racing through her ears. Seto glanced up briefly, and his eyes met Kisara's; although he looked clearly uncomfortable, there was something atypically good-humored in his expression.
Seemingly content with his brother's response, Mokuba leaned back against the sofa, sighing dramatically. Kisara smiled reassuringly at Seto, who offered her a smirk of acknowledgment. And with that, Kisara felt her shoulders relax. Mokuba was Seto's kid brother, and clearly able to ruffle Seto's feathers, but Seto wasn't truly angry. She let her eyes glance around the room, taking in the ornate crystal chandelier casting glimmering reflections onto the walls, the porcelain Blue-Eyes White Dragon statue lit by its' own spotlight in the corner, the gentle, rhythmic ticking of the grandfather polished mahogany grandfather clock.
Suddenly, Mokuba's birght voice broke through the silence. "Hey, Seto? Can we take Kisara on the boat?"
"Can I play music?" Mokuba called out over the hum of the motor boat and the gentle sound of churning water. Seto gave a noncommittal nod, and Mokuba turned his bright eyes towards Kisara. "Please?"
Kisara smiled. "Yeah, of course. I don't mind," she responded, leaning back in the vinyl seat. The sun kissed her shoulders, and the tips of her silvery hair were damp with the spray from the boat. She watched Seto, who was focused entirely on steering. Even on such an amenably warm day, he was wearing a black turtleneck sweater that greatly emphasized his angular collar bone and—she noticed shyly—the curvature of his abdominal muscles. She watched as a gentle breeze lifted Seto's long bangs off of his forehead, and she could suddenly see his whole face. She was surprised to notice that his eyebrows were soft and curved, making his face appear kinder and less severe.
He turned to look at her, and Kisara, embarrassed to be caught staring, briefly looked away. When she dared to look back at him, his eyes were still fixed on her, and his mouth was twisted into a faint smile. Kisara smiled back, shyly turning her head, and noticed that Mokuba was repressing a grin, shifting his gaze between his brother and the water. Kisara felt a surge of warmth and camaraderie, and lay her head back, letting the sunbeams drench her face.
It was in that moment when she first thought to herself, I could get used to this.