When I started this project oh-so long ago, I had no idea what I intended to do with it. I had grand plans, I had all these scenes in mind, but I hadn't a singular clue how I was going to weave them all together. I was so excited at the prospect of working with this new concept that I jumped right in with no plan.

As a result, this project has been left to languish, like so many others.

But now, I do have a plan.

Each storyline in this AU is going to take place over a sequence of 10 chapters. The last one, the one that's been up for so long, was an introduction to Mokuba and his establishment as a force to be reckoned with.

And since you never get one Kaiba without the other, well, there wasn't any way to avoid this: I knew that the next storyline would have to be Seto establishing himself in much the same way. So, here we are. Last time, we met the king.

So this time, let's see what the prince is up to.

.

The only indication that Mokuba Kaiba hadn't turned to stone in his chair was the way his smoky eyes kept following anyone who happened to cross his vision; he watched, and saw, everything even as he reacted to none of it. He gave off the impression that he had no intention of moving until the heat death of the universe. Anything, or anyone, who forced him to change his plans would face the full force of his wrath.

How he could look so primevally miserable on a cruise ship, of all things, only made sense when one considered how much he'd spent to be here; he didn't even like card games.

"If it turns out Pegasus Crawford is running a timeshare scheme," Mokuba muttered, flexing his fingers hard enough to make his knuckles crack, "I'm going to hunt him for sport."

"I'm going to be honest with you, sir," came Isono's voice, from the receiver in Mokuba's left ear, "the fact that this tournament is taking place on this man's private island has me nervous. I feel like a timeshare is one of the best possible outcomes, when you consider the alternatives."

Mokuba hummed. "You might have a point," he said, closing his eyes and pretending he was back at home. "Seto isn't having as good a time as he thought he would."

"Oh." Isono sounded far more upset than Mokuba would have thought; he sounded hurt. "He's been looking forward to this, too. May I ask what's going wrong, sir?"

"Nobody wants to play against him," Mokuba said, "even though the whole place is full of random pickup games. He's just a little kid." The elder Kaiba made quotes with his fingers, even though Isono had no way of seeing him. One of the wait staff gave him a look but didn't say anything.

None of these people were paid well enough to deal with a cranky Kaiba.

Isono grunted. "Forgive me, but . . . are children not the target demographic for trading cards? Should the young master not be here? Is this something generational? Am I too old to understand?"

"If you are, so am I," Mokuba said. "He's the youngest competitor, and the least accredited." Mokuba heaved a deep sigh. "His only official victory was that promotional tournament at Black Crown six months ago. You remember? He pretended he was staying late at school, working on the sets for a Shakespeare play, so he could go. He kept that façade up for a week beforehand, and another week afterward."

"You know, I do think I remember that."

Silence reigned for a time. Then Mokuba went on: "I want to help him, but I can't. You and I both know it would do irreparable damage to his pride, to say nothing of his public image, if I go around browbeating people into playing against my baby brother. It'll just make him seem even more like a spoiled brat. Besides, Seto wants to earn a real reputation."

"While I understand your point, and acknowledge it's noble," Isono said, "are we sure this is good for him? He's still grieving, sir."

Mokuba closed his eyes again. "I know," he said. "I know, Isono, I do. But . . . it's all I could think to do. I never trained to be a parent. I'm supposed to be a bodyguard. All this shit was supposed to be his job. He should be here right now. But he had to go and end up a colossal disappointment, so here I am picking up the pieces." He paused. Then flinched violently. "You haven't heard from Daimon, have you?"

The pause before Isono's answer was thick with unspoken gravity.

"He won't be an obstacle anymore, Master Kaiba."

Mokuba nodded unconsciously. "Good," he said. "That's good."

"The Big Five are being surprisingly accommodating, allowing you to take this leave of absence so soon after stepping into your position." Isono didn't sound impressed. "I don't trust them. To be honest with you, I don't trust any clique of old men with a nickname like that. I don't know what it is they want, but I'd put money on them plotting something."

Mokuba chuckled. "I certainly hope they are," he said. "I'd be insulted if they weren't."

"You want them to see you as a threat."

"Absolutely." Mokuba's jaw flexed. "I am a threat, after all."