It's a common belief that Seto Kaiba is a workaholic. And like. In some ways, yeah, that's true. I'm with that. But the thing is, that doesn't mean he's obsessed with his job at Kaiba-Corp. He finds every excuse throughout the whole-ass story to do literally anything else.
I've always seen Seto as someone who uses his job at Kaiba-Corp as a means to an end.
Seto's dream is to provide safety, comfort, and joy to children.
And he works at Kaiba-Corp because it gives him the money necessary to do that.
That's it.
.
"Hey, Niisama?"
Seto glanced up, saw his brothers standing at the threshold to his office, and frowned. They had a look, the both of them, that told the eldest Kaiba this was something important. Noa looked quite thoroughly frightened, though he was trying his best to hide it; Mokuba looked nervous, but there was still an angry, defiant confidence in his bearing.
Seto pushed back from his desk and shifted his weight. "What's up, kid?" he asked.
"I, um. I gotta ask you something."
"Okay . . ." Seto wondered what to do about the chill sense of dread settling over him right now. "Go ahead." He gestured invitingly.
Mokuba cleared his throat, wiped his hands on his jeans, then shook his head like he was annoyed at himself for his nerves. He settled himself, squared his shoulders, and seemed to force himself to make direct eye contact.
"What, um. What would you say, if, um. If I said . . . and I don't—I'm not saying—this is just hypothetical. But what would you say, if . . . if I didn't want to work at Kaiba-Corp anymore?"
The thunderous silence that followed Mokuba's question felt like a physical thing, something Seto would have to cut through and remove from his way if he wanted to get anywhere, if he ever wanted to leave his office again.
Noa looked like he was waiting for Seto to pull a knife out of a drawer and demand one of Mokuba's fingers for the insult of asking. Mokuba, for his part, still looked defiant. Seto thought, after a moment, that he wasn't presenting this front to say anything to Seto.
The front, the defiance, the confident mask, was for Noa.
Seto stood up. He didn't miss the way Noa flinched away.
He stepped forward, then squatted down and sat on his heels. He remembered something his father—his real father—had said to a colleague once: never make a child look up at you when you're saying something important.
"Hypothetically," Seto said, choosing his words carefully, "I would say: 'Good.'" He expected the look of flabbergasted surprise on Noa's face, but the confusion that met Mokuba's was concerning. Seto drew in a deep, steadying breath of his own. "Hypothetically, I would congratulate you for learning something about yourself, and making a stand. You started working at Kaiba-Corp to help me. We're a team, and since I was giving my life to this venture, you would too. So, hypothetically, it would be a good thing for you, and for me, to know that you've grown comfortable enough with, and confident enough in, yourself to step away from that."
Mokuba had been setting himself up to say something; he stopped.
"The Kaiba Corporation," Seto continued, "is a symbol. For me. It's . . . it's always represented the control I wrested from the world and took for myself. It's my proof to the people who cast me aside that I will not be ignored. I will not be denied. Your beliefs do not impact me, they have never impacted me, and I have no intention of ever bending myself to suit them."
Mokuba smiled.
Noa's eyes were as wide as soup plates.
"But it doesn't have to be that for you," Seto said. "In all likelihood, it isn't that for you. If you wanted to walk away, and find a new path for yourself, if you wanted to live a different life than the one that I have found for myself, hypothetically, then I would wish you the best and remind you that no matter where that new path, that different life, took you . . . you will always have a home here."
Mokuba's smile spread into a full grin, and he nodded. "Thanks, Niisama."
"You bet." Seto shifted his weight again, leaning back a bit. "Now, would you mind telling me what brought this on?"
"I mean, I have been thinking about whether or not all the stuff I'm doing at the company is actually good for me." Mokuba shrugged. "I dunno. I know you keep saying that I shouldn't let what other people say influence my decisions, but. I hear things. I know there's plenty of people, especially on the Board, who don't want me around."
"And you're starting to wonder if they aren't right," Seto guessed.
"Oh, I don't think they're right," Mokuba said. "I just think . . . just because their reasons for why I should leave are bullshit, doesn't mean there aren't reasons I should leave."
Seto smirked. Nodded. "True," he said. "Very true. Well, if you do decide you'd rather step away, you let me handle the fallout. Understand? That's literally my job."
Mokuba nodded. "Sure. Sure, sure. You bet."
Noa fidgeted. "I, um," he started, "I guess. I was. I was worried about what you would say, if Mokuba asked you about . . . about quitting. And I guess. I thought . . . I didn't know how you would react. I'm sorry."
"You can't help but think of your father, and how he would react in this situation," Seto said.
Noa flinched again, then nodded miserably. "Y-Yes."
Seto sighed. "Well, if you'll forgive me . . . what he might think of this situation, how he would react, doesn't matter anymore. This is my Kaiba-Corp now, this is my house now, and we don't do things his way anymore."
Noa nodded again. "Of course."
"Noa." The boy looked up, freshly terrified. "This applies to you, too. You don't have to work at Kaiba-Corp if you don't want to. If you do, then there is a place for you. I'll find it myself if I have to. But that doesn't mean you have to take it."
Noa looked like Seto had just told him there were unicorns in the back gardens.
"I work at Kaiba-Corp because I need to," Seto said. "I don't trust the people I work with, yet, to uphold my vision for the place without . . . persuasion. I need to be there to enforce my policies. But as soon as I can trust the people working with me to do right by the people under them, I fully intend to leave."
"You . . . you're going to . . . ?"
"I'm an engineer. I'm an inventor. I want to build things. Most of my job is bureaucracy, and if I'm honest with myself, I hate it. I don't begrudge anybody for not wanting to work there. Making games for children isn't nearly as simple as it should be, and my job gets in the way of that mission more often than it facilitates."
Mokuba's face softened. "Niisama."
"You two," Seto said, "can work in any industry you damn well please. Any job you want, chase it. If you don't want a job at all, and you just want to spend the rest of your lives doing whatever the fuck you want, you do that. What's the use of all this damn money if I can't provide for my family?"
"Chichiue always said . . . a man who doesn't work isn't a man, but a parasite."
"He also thought that mustache was a good idea."
Noa sputtered with sudden laughter, and all the remaining tension left the room.
"People find their purpose," Seto said, "when they have the freedom and the space for it. I can give you both. I'm going to give you both. That's what it means to live here, in this house. You will always be fed, you will always be warm, you will always be sheltered. That's it. End of discussion. You don't have to do anything in exchange for that, because that's not how this works. I'm responsible for you. That's my end of the bargain. Yours is to live. However you want to. People talk a lot of nonsense about the American Dream. It's what prompted my—our—parents to come here in the first place. You can be anything and anybody that you want to be. But that's only true if you have the capital."
Mokuba tilted his head.
"Well. I have the capital. So. You can be anything, and anybody, that you want to be. That's your job. Find your life and live it as best you can. All right?"
Mokuba smiled again and nodded. "Yeah."
Noa sniffled. "Y-Yes."
"Good." Seto stood up. "Now go get up to something nefarious. I've got a phone conference to suffer through."
