Kaiba-Corp being a good place to work, as I've already covered, is one of my central headcanons. It's part of the power fantasy for me. I look at Seto "The Future is Infinite" Kaiba, and I see somebody who knows how to run shit.

That's the whole point.

And if it strikes anyone as unrealistic . . . well. I don't know what to say. I'm playing around in a sandbox with magic and curses and ghosts and dragons. It's never been about realism for me.


.


"Do you have any questions for me, before we wrap up?"

Rebecca Hawkins was young, but she'd always been sharp. She'd always known how to read a certain type of person, and that meant an interview with Seto Kaiba wasn't nearly as intimidating for her as it would have been for nearly anyone else.

Part of that had to do with the fact that everybody knew Seto was easier on kids than he was with adults. Kids were still learning; adults should know better already. The man was Gordon Ramsey in a duster. Rebecca had a feeling, a rather strong one, that even if she stood up and walked away right now, just strode right out of his office and went home, there would still be a place for her at his corporation.

What she knew, though, what she was absolutely certain of, was that this was the real test. What she asked right now, the questions she posed to him, was what Seto Kaiba really cared about when interviewing for a fresh intern.

Rebecca mulled this over. Considered her words the way she would have considered the opening move in a game of chess.

Eventually, she said: "One of your company's major selling points is that you pay your interns. Given that this actually doesn't put you in an especially unique position—more than half of internships are paid—I guess I have to ask you: what sets you apart? How much do you pay your interns?"

"Our interns are paid . . ." Seto checked the documents on his desk, ". . . depending on qualifications and which department you end up in, a range of $2500 to $3000 each week." He gestured. "Do you handle your own banking?"

"I do," Rebecca said.

"Then there's no need for you to maintain a financial advisor, but if you'd like, we can still set you up with one." There was no question in the way that Seto was talking that he had every intention of hiring Rebecca whenever and however she pleased.

Rebecca kept her face untouched by emotion. She said: "What is your work-from-home policy?"

"So long as your tasks are completed . . . quite frankly, I don't care where you complete them. I will need you to use a Kaiba-Corp device if you intend to work outside of this facility, however. You'll be furnished with any equipment required to complete any projects as they become necessary."

"A security measure, I take it?"

"Yes."

"Do interns have access to full health coverage? Dental?"

"Any procedure or equipment related to your health and welfare is covered."

"Deductible?"

Seto looked insulted. He waved a dismissive hand. "Full coverage means full coverage. You won't pay for your healthcare. Not here."

"What about family? Will my grandfather also be covered?"

"Yes."

Rebecca couldn't quite hide the surprise, nor the delight, on her face. She coughed, covered her mouth with one fist, and pretended to gather her thoughts. After a moment, she said: "If I decide to pursue a higher education, will Kaiba-Corp accommodate my schedule?"

"Yes," Seto said. "I don't care when, where, or how you complete your projects. So long as they are completed."

"Is there an hourly commitment? How long will you need me to work in a given week?"

Seto waved a dismissive hand again. "We don't pay by the hour."

"You're going to pay an intern 120,000 dollars a year, and you don't have a time commitment."

"Time is irrelevant to me. Results are what matter."

Rebecca frowned. Crossed her arms. "I am going to paint a hypothetical: let us assume that I make an . . . irresponsible decision, we'll call it, and find myself pregnant. If I am unable to find accommodation for a termination, what—if anything—will Kaiba-Corp do to help me?"

Seto smirked. "There's a reason we are headquartered in California, Miss Hawkins. Any procedure related to your health and wellbeing will be accommodated by the Kaiba Corporation. The termination of a pregnancy falls under that distinction. It is covered."

"You're comfortable making that kind of sweeping political declaration?"

"It's not political," Seto said. "Not to me, and not to this company. We take care of our own. End of sentence."

Rebecca grinned. "Well, now."

Seto offered a little smile. "Shall I have the paperwork put together and sent to you, Miss Hawkins?"

"You shall," Rebecca said, standing. She held out a hand; Seto shook it.

It wasn't until they'd not only left Seto's office, but the building entirely, that either of them spoke again. Seto was watching people pass, an idle peacefulness on his face, when he said: "I wondered when I might hear from you."

"Am I so predictable?"

"Don't be coy," Seto said, smirking. "You know damn well you're one of the rising stars in this city. If you hadn't come to me, I would have come to you. And you've never been the sort to wait for others."

"Oh-ho. My reputation precedes me." Rebecca stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket. "You're trying to make this city better. I want in on that action. It just so happens that the stuff you make falls under my skillsets. Call that a win-win."

"You look like you're waiting for the camera crews to pop out and let you know you've been pranked. Is this so surprising?"

"I guess I just . . . don't know how you manage to do this." Rebecca stopped and looked up at Seto. "Pardon my French, but fucking nobody offers that kind of money to an intern. I've got a good nest egg from all my tournaments and sponsorships, more than enough that I always figured I'd just keep going and make a career out of dueling. But this? What the fuck, Kaiba?"

Seto shrugged. "I'm asking people to give up their time for me. It's my job to make that worthwhile."

"Still!"

"Also," Seto said, "it's therapeutic to prove, every day, that taking care of my people is not only possible, but necessary. Every time I meet some suited jackass who wants to claim me as a peer, I want them to look me in the eye and know that every cost-cutting measure they fight for is pointless and stupid. I want the Kaiba Corporation to prove, I want to prove, that putting money over people is backwards, cruel, and doesn't work."

"If I didn't know better," Rebecca said, "I'd start thinking you care about people."

Seto's smirk came back.

"Am I so predictable?"