It's kind of refreshing, to be honest, knowing that this story is back to the way it's supposed to be. Not to say I didn't enjoy "Carry the Blessed Home," but the whole point of this version of "Good Intentions" was to do snapshots. So, here we go.
Of course, there's a bit of aftermath to deal with, after the end of the last chapter. So let me get a couple of things out of the way before we begin.
Firstly, for anyone concerned about me bringing Noa into this story. Maybe you don't like him, maybe you think he messes up the Kaiba family dynamic, maybe you just don't like filler. Whatever the case may be, I can assure you that he won't be taking over the story. Seto and Mokuba will remain the focal point, around which all other subplots will revolve.
On the other hand, those of you who are excited to see Noa crop up in this story, I don't want you to worry, either. While he won't be taking over, he will be an important element in the story from here on out. I intend to strike a balance, is what I mean to say.
Also, anyone who has read "Cult of the Dragon King," keep this in mind: the Noa that I've built into that story will not bear much of a resemblance to the Noa who lives here. This isn't to say there won't be similarities; of course there will be. But this story's Noa will be much closer to his original character, whereas Cult's Noa was . . . well, a divergence.
Now, then. Let's get to it, shall we?
1.
The first thing people tended to forget about Seto Kaiba, given enough time to forget about anything, was the simple fact that he was an inventor. He had spent a great deal of time in his childhood studying every aspect of his chosen career path, and since that path was technology, his skillset was much, much broader than people tended to think.
In short, the only person who wasn't surprised to find Seto Kaiba in his brother's room on a stepladder, with a hammer in his right hand, a screwdriver clenched in his teeth, and coated in dust, was Mokuba.
He still wore slacks and formal shoes, but there was an air of age about his clothing that said he was as casual as he would ever be—these were, in short, his "working clothes." His shirt was untucked, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.
"Dare I ask what he's up to?" Akiko asked from the doorway, crossing her arms and eyeing her employer with keen interest. Mokuba smiled slightly, but his eyes seemed far away. Still, that look bordered on worshipful, and Akiko quickly realized that whatever it was that Seto was doing, it was something that Mokuba had been waiting for.
Seto suddenly stopped working, pulled his hand out of the hole he'd put into his brother's wall, and put on a confused face. Akiko noticed a Bluetooth headset tucked into one ear. "Yes, thank you," he muttered, "I don't need a soundtrack."
Mokuba giggled. "He's excited, Niisama. I don't think he expected you to actually do this."
"I'm full of surprises," Seto muttered. He brandished his hammer. "I am not putting one of these anywhere even close to my bedroom or my office. You hear me?" Seto's eyes went unfocused. "You hear me?" he repeated, more sternly.
"You know, you could have just made a bracelet or something, like a miniature Duel Disk, and I could have just worn that," Mokuba offered.
Seto's face scrunched up into something that bordered on religiously offended. "I don't do shortcuts, Mokuba. Besides, if word of this gets out, I'll never hear the end of it. No. He stays here. On the grounds." He listened to whatever was on his headset for a moment. "You are a ghost. Don't act like you're offended."
Mokuba giggled again. Akiko watched the pair at their antics for a while, chuckled, and decided she would be better served finding something productive to do. Part of her still felt guilty, whenever she received her paycheck from the Kaiba Corporation every two weeks, and she had been seeking out more and more projects to take on every time she was here.
As she made her way down the hallway, she heard Mokuba break into outright laughter, and when she turned around, she saw the boy in the doorway, doubled over and struggling to breathe.
She smiled. "You two are adorable," she muttered to herself.
2.
Noa Kaiba, dressed all in white, stood in Mokuba's bedroom and looked around himself. To anyone looking, he would have seemed like any other visitor. That was, unless anyone were to attempt to touch him. The hologram was perfect, but that didn't make its projection solid.
Seto looked up at the Solid Vision projector he'd installed into the wall, near his brother's computer, and looked rather smug. Then, glancing at the two boys in the room with him, he turned stern. Noa stood up straight, eyeing the eldest Kaiba deferentially. He smiled serenely.
Mokuba still had no readable expression on his face, but he turned to look at his brother and waited.
"Guidelines," Seto said by way of an introduction. He pointed to the projector. "This will be on from the hours of 9 AM to 9 PM, Monday through Thursday. Come Friday at 9 AM, it will be left on until Sunday at 9 PM. These times are non-negotiable. Any attempts to subvert this rule will result in a probationary quarantine, to be lifted when I deem appropriate. Do you both understand this guideline?"
"Yes, Niisama," Mokuba said promptly.
Noa bowed his head. "Of course."
"Furthermore, simply because the projection is on does not mean you have automatic leave to be here. If Mokuba asks for privacy during any of the aforementioned hours, you are to respect that. That does not mean you can wait until he specifically tells you to leave."
Noa smirked. "Of course."
"I will be installing projectors throughout the grounds, so as to . . . expand your available space. You will select a room on this floor, which will then be your private chamber, should you decide you want to be . . . outside, so to speak, but alone."
"Thank you."
"I trust that your simulation has the capacity to learn? Adapt?"
"Yes. One of Otousama's greatest breakthroughs, in fact. He detested the idea of static programming."
Seto's mouth twitched in what might have been a smirk, but might just as easily have been a scowl. "Very well. In that case, given that you remain a member of the Kaiba family, a position on the Kaiba Corporation's executive staff will be offered to you. We will discuss your skillsets and determine where to place you. You will be expected to be up-to-date on modern gaming culture, as well as our products specifically, both released and in development. This will serve as a baseline. Further requirements will be determined once you are placed."
Noa looked stunned, but as he absorbed this information, a delighted little smile rose on his face. "Okay. Great! I, um . . . I look forward to it. T-Thank you."
"Given your . . . incorporeal nature, I am assuming that a standard compensation package will be unnecessary. Somehow I doubt you need health insurance or a retirement plan."
Noa chuckled. "No."
"We'll discuss this later," Seto said, suddenly, as though he were just as bored by these minor details as Mokuba seemed to be. He looked down at himself, sighed, and waved a dismissive hand. "I need to clean up. Mokuba, you know the rest of the house rules. Fill him in at your discretion."
And with that, as suddenly as he'd begun this speech, he was gone.
3.
"You haven't said much," Noa ventured, as he pretended to sit on Mokuba's bed. "Do you need some time to absorb this? Should I go searching for my own room, leave you alone for a while?" Suddenly, a grim sort of look crossed his face. "You don't want me here. Period. Do you? It was fun, when it was just my voice coming in through your phones, but now that you can see me . . ."
"No!" Mokuba cried. "I mean, yes—I mean, no, that's not it! I just . . . I'm . . ."
"Having trouble adjusting," Noa guessed. "It is kind of . . . off-putting, I guess."
"It's just that . . ." Mokuba sat down next to his adoptive sibling, and stared at his lap. "Well, I mean, you died. I watched you die. But . . . but you're still here. And I don't know what I'm s'posed to feel anymore. I was just . . . I was just getting used to—to you being gone. And . . . here you are."
Noa nodded sagely. "I think I know what you mean. But, you know, I'm still dead. As far as you're concerned, I've been dead since you were five." Mokuba turned to look at the boy currently sharing his room with him. Noa gestured at himself. "This isn't Noa Kaiba. This isn't the first son of Gozaburo, scion of the Kaiba legacy." He smiled. "I'm just a memory, given form. Did you have an imaginary friend, growing up?"
Mokuba frowned. ". . . Not really. But sometimes . . ." He looked over at the shelf over his bed, where sat his stereo, and his plush Sword Stalker. Mokuba clambered over and picked it up. "Sometimes I would talk to this little guy, when I was going to sleep, and I'd wonder what he might say, if he could talk back."
Noa nodded again, and stood up. Holding out his arms, he closed his eyes, and in a sudden swirl of light, he was gone. In his place was the huge, hulking mass of the monster that Mokuba's plush toy was supposed to represent.
The Sword Stalker turned toward Mokuba, flipped its golden sword so that the blade pointed toward the ground, and dropped to one knee. Then, another swirl of light, and Noa was back, still kneeling. He held out his arms in a flourish, like a stage magician. "Think of me like your imaginary friend, if you like. A particularly advanced program, meant to assist you in whatever you might be doing." He stood up again. "I am . . . an outward manifestation of all that the name of Kaiba has built." He smiled, and a twinkle visited his eyes. "Just like you."
Mokuba smiled. "Not exactly a normal way to cheer someone up, reminding me you're dead and that I've never really met you."
"Since when has this family been anything remotely close to normal?"
Mokuba couldn't help but smile. "Okay, okay. You win."
"I may not be Noa Kaiba," Noa said, "but I am the person you met all those years ago. So, you know, if that counts for anything . . ."
Mokuba's smile softened, and he nodded. "It does."
"Your brother's changed since last we met," Noa said. "The man I remember never would have done something like this." He looked down at himself again. "The man I remember couldn't have built something like this. He's refined the technology. It's seamless. It's . . . flawless."
Fierce pride burned in Mokuba's eyes. "Niisama doesn't believe in resting on his laurels. He says he'll still be fine-tuning and refining Solid Vision on his deathbed."
Noa grinned. "I believe it."
A moment passed in contemplative silence.
Mokuba murmured, "Noa?"
"Hm?"
". . . I love you."
Noa's grin widened, and what looked suspiciously like tears sprang in the corners of his eyes.
"I love you, too."
