It's nearing graduation season. I am graduating soon (I know, what a cliché, right?). That said, this felt appropriate. A few notes on my general chronology. Over the years, I have deviated some amount from canon in terms of the Kaibas' ages. I understand that the general consensus is that, at the beginning of the series Seto is 15 and Mokuba is 12. Some say 15 and 10.
However, I found that to be rather odd. One, if we take the Noa storyline seriously, Seto promised when Mokuba was 4 or 5 that he would be Mokuba's father from now on. And since I love that scene, I do. It's nice and mature, but I kind of doubt an 8-year-old would have been able to honestly do it. Seto did.
So what I figure is, Seto was around 8 or so when Mokuba was born. This makes more sense to me than if he were 3. This accomplishes a couple of things. One, it allows Seto to have gained the depth of maturity to make that kind of promise. 13 makes more sense to me than 8 for someone to swear to be a father. Still young, but hey. This is Seto. Two, it means Mokuba was about 7 during Duelist Kingdom, which kind of explains why his duel with Yami was so notably atrocious. A 12-year-old gamer would be far better at the game, even if he'd never played it before, than Mokuba was.
Anyway, all this is to say that when these scenes take place, Mokuba is 10, which makes Seto 18.
Read, and experience. It's all heartwarming and stuff.
"Mister Kaiba, sir!"
It wasn't quite right or fair to call what Seto was doing "ignoring." To ignore implied some modicum of understanding that something was happening worth ignoring. His face was entirely blank, completely neutral, and the man in the cheap suit may as well have been talking to a paperweight. Roland Ackerman, meanwhile, stood serenely behind his employer's desk, hands clasped behind his back, staring at nothing in particular and looking entirely uninterested in helping.
"Mister Kaiba!"
The man in the cheap suit, whose name was Christiansen, reached out a hand and clutched Seto's arm. Now Roland reacted, stepping forward and reaching for the pistol beneath his coat in the same fluid movement.
Seto held up an arm without looking back, and Roland's stance eased. He did not, however, remove his hand from the butt of his sidearm. Christiansen seemed not to have noticed this silent exchange. "Mister Kaiba, what are you doing? The conference is in twenty minutes! What do you mean, you're leaving?"
"I believe…" Seto murmured with complete calm, "…that I informed you that 2 PM today would not be open. I believe I asked you to reschedule."
"And I told you! Mister Donalds refused! He said this is the only time he can speak to us this month!"
Seto turned slowly, and Roland turned his eyes away, hiding a bemused smile behind his hand as he faked clearing his throat. Christiansen stared up at his employer, who was two inches taller than he was. "How inconvenient for Donalds," he said, "that I did not say 2 PM today would not be open unless it conflicted with his schedule. I said that it would not be open. Period."
He turned again.
"Mister Kaiba!" Christiansen bleated. "Whatever you have scheduled will have to wait! This is the deal of the century, sir! We have to—"
"No," Seto said.
He was out the door before Christiansen could sputter out a response. He whirled on Roland Ackerman, who was looking at him innocently. His hand had left his weapon, and he now had both stuffed into the pockets of his pinstriped slacks, looking halfway between exasperated and amused.
"Mister Ackerman, didn't you tell him that Mister Donalds—"
"If I were his employer, then I would tell him," Roland cut in. "Master Kaiba does what he wants."
"And it will be the death of this company!" Christiansen cried. "Doesn't he understand that we're a fledgling in a field of vultures? If we aren't careful, they're all going to swallow us whole! With Johan Donalds at our backs, we'd be near invincible! We can't make him into an enemy!"
"Then I would suggest you do your best to convince him that we are not an enemy," Roland said simply. "Master Kaiba does not play games any more than Johan Donalds does. He deals with those who understand him, and he deals with those he deems worthy of the privilege. It is true that D&E Studios would be a worthy asset to the company, but if he is unwilling to meet with us due to a scheduling conflict, then Master Kaiba is hardly interested in dealing with him."
"I already told him I'd convince Mister Kaiba to be on call!"
Roland smirked. "You shouldn't have done that."
Christiansen's eyes were bulging out of his head. "We have to convince Mister Kaiba!"
"We won't," said Roland.
"That's not good enough! This is once-in-a-lifetime!"
Roland's eyebrows raised. "So is an elementary school graduation."
A beat of stunned silence.
"…That's what he's doing?" Christiansen asked incredulously. "Attending the vice-president's elementary school graduation? Oh, for the love of—it's not like he's graduating high school! Elementary school isn't an achievement! I'm sorry, but I'm bringing him back. Mokuba will just have to understand that Mister Kaiba has more important things to be doing than to attend every little…"
He trailed off suddenly, going pale.
Roland Ackerman had removed his glasses, and his coal-black eyes were murderous.
"…You need to stop talking now."
The auditorium was packed with folding chairs, on which scores of excited parents were seated, disposable cameras and camcorders in hand as they chattered endlessly and pointed and compared notes and laughed and checked for batteries.
A handful of people were standing against the far wall, and two in particular were dressed in rather expensive-looking suits. One sported greying black hair and a well-groomed beard, prominent laugh lines spider-webbing out from the corners of his bright hazel eyes. The other was clean-shaven with chestnut brown hair and blue eyes blazing out from beneath windswept bangs. They stood beside each other, and there was a certain feeling of silent camaraderie between them.
Johan Donalds murmured under his breath, "So this was what you were so hell-bent on doing that you blew me off. Small world."
Seto Kaiba didn't answer at once. Eventually, he said, "I refuse to be a cliché."
"…I had no intention of being in a conference this afternoon," Donalds admitted, chuckling as he glanced at the watch on his left wrist. "I wanted to see what you would do, if I told your people that I had no time outside of it."
Seto smirked. "Well played."
"I'm impressed," Donalds said. "It's been a long time since someone's told me, 'Oh, well, I'm busy, goodbye.' It's rather refreshing, actually." He glanced at Seto, who was still wearing his trademark smirk. "Not to bring work into this occasion. Lord knows Ellie would have my hide. But…I think there's a future in this partnership. We'll have to talk sometime next week."
Seto gave a curt nod.
"My granddaughter," Donalds murmured, gesturing vaguely, "there with the red pigtails and the star on her cheek. Which one's yours?"
Seto looked out at the stage where the 2006 Graduating Class of Oakwood Elementary School stood in their caps and gowns, waving and laughing and calling out to their families, basking in the afterglow of the ceremony, and his smirk shifted into a grin of such fierce, savage pride that it bordered on a grimace of pain.
And he said, cobalt eyes shimmering with tears he didn't know were there, "…He's the only one wearing a tie."
Say it with me now: D'awwww.
It's adorable. You know it, I know it, the American people know it. Because you know the reason Mokuba is wearing that tie (and it's a real tie, not a clip-on; get your mind out of the…gutter…? Anyway) is because he wants to be Just Like Niisama. Say what you want about their general philosophies and how Mokuba wouldn't want to be stoic and generally miserable like his brother; that much is true. But where a metric ton of the more important things are concerned, I don't think I'm out of order to say that Mokuba deeply desires to emulate Seto's actions.
Including his sense of fashion. Yes, laugh at the trench coats. They're woven of awesome and that's the end of it. Your argument is invalid. Besides, he wears suits now. Awesome suits. Yes, that's a brand now. Hush.
Also, Christiansen's argument about elementary school graduation isn't just something I threw out there to make him into a jerk; I've heard it espoused before. I just don't figure Seto would give it any amount of validity, considering.
Hope you liked this one as much as I do.
See you this weekend, party peoples.
Take care.
