Writer's block . . . sucks. I spend the vast majority of my free time working on stories, so when the time comes that my brain isn't able to cooperate with that, it has me extremely out of sorts. If I spend an entire day without writing, I feel like that day has been wasted. It's almost a pathology.
But anyway, that isn't going to stop me from updating my stories. Granted, there are a few projects that have been neglected for a little while, but that's just because I've had an extremely difficult time figuring out what to do with them.
This project, though, remains in good shape.
We're starting to get to the good stuff. At least, as far as I'm concerned.
These are the sorts of scenes that inspired me to write this story in the first place.
Yagami Yuki woke up after her first night in a new world, feeling like she was dreaming. Kohaku was already awake, sitting in the recliner where he'd slept and watching the television in front of them. Seto was sitting on the floor, videogame controller in hand. He was playing the same game that Joey Wheeler had turned on for him the evening before. Yuki barely understood what her son was doing, but she could tell that he did. She saw only the back of the boy's head, but she was sure that if she could see his face, it would have been stern, studious, and rapturous.
Yuki glanced at Kohaku. He was looking at her.
"Please tell me he slept," Yuki said, looking halfway between amused and exasperated. Kohaku gave a sheepish glance to his son, who didn't seem to be paying any semblance of attention to his parents.
"He was up before me," Kohaku admitted.
Joey had said that this game was called a "racing simulator," and seemed rather adamant on the point of calling it that. Yuki watched the screen for a while, having a difficult time understanding how this could be a videogame. She had seen Seto play Super Mario World on his Nintendo, but the car blazing through fictional city streets right now wasbeyond anything she could honestly comprehend.
"How ya like it, Chief?" Joey had asked, when he'd first shown the boy how the game worked.
"…Huh?" was all that Seto had been able to muster in response.
This seemed to be more than enough of an answer for Joey, who'd simply laughed and walked away, leaving Seto to be absorbed in the game. Yuki usually didn't allow her son to play videogames for longer than an hour at a stretch, but she understood what Joey was trying to do, and decided to let it slide.
After having to deal with bullies, death threats and inter-dimensional travel, the poor boy deserved to forget the world for a while.
When Joey Wheeler returned to the upper level of the game shop that morning, where the Yagamis were still sitting, a huge grin visited his face as he got a good look at Seto. "My man! That's what it's about. Excellent." As Kohaku started to speak, the blond held up a hand. "Yeah, yeah, I know. We gotta get movin'. Cool it, padre, I got it covered. Just gotta be paaaaaatient. You know, like Yoda."
"Patience isn't exactly on my list of priorities at the moment," Kohaku said, frowning.
"You ain't the only one had family threatened by this crap, a'right?" Joey replied. "Reason Yami broughtcha here is 'cuz we know what we're doin'. What time's it, anyway?" He fished what looked like it might have been a phone out of a pocket, glanced at it, and shrugged. "A'right. So as t' make sure we're polite, I figure we wait a couple more hours 'fore we call in the cavalry. 11:30 on a Sunday ain't too unreasonable, right?"
Kohaku glared silently.
Joey rolled his eyes and dialed a number. "Yo," he said. "Ro-man. Hey. Joey. Listen, I gotta favor. Have Mokuba gimme a call when he wakes up, a'right? I got somethin' I gotta ask 'im. Cool? A'right. Awesome. Thanks, man. Yeah, you too. Right. No, no, nothin' 'bout that. A'right. Later."
Joey held out his hands. "Happy now?"
"Yes. Thank you."
"Ko."
"Well, I'm sorry, but this is getting ridiculous."
Joey raised an eyebrow. "Tell you what's ridiculous, mon capitan. You thinkin' you understand how to handle this situation better'n the people you asked to help. Maybe we ain't handled Old Man Kaiba before, but y'know what? We've beat worse. You really think jumpin' in, guns blazin' and all that, is gonna do a damn thing? Tell you what: you go ahead 'n try that. We'll find a gun. Getcha some ammo and a vest. Go full Rambo. Lemme know how it works out for ya."
Kohaku scowled. "I get that we're laying low. What I don't get is how any of this is going to help the situation we're in. How is one ten-year-old kid going to change anything?"
The blond chuckled. "That eleven-year-old kid's got billions of dollars, a corporate juggernaut with God only knows how many employees, and thousands of followers ready to jump at anything he asks 'em to do." He gestured to Seto. "Not to mention that guy. I'm guessin' you guys know your boy's pretty smart. Regular wunderkind, right?"
Kohaku nodded; Yuki did as well.
"He ain't even got started. Know how old he was when he took over Kaiba-Corp? As in, became the CEO? As in, tore down an entire business and rebuilt it from the ground up? C'mon. Take a guess."
Yuki and Kohaku glanced at each other.
"…I don't know."
"Fifteen. At fifteen motherfucking years old, he took Kaiba-Corp from Gozaburo, broke it down, ripped it apart, and made it into somethin' else. Now, you might be surprised, what with how I been talkin', to find out I don't really like the guy too much. Sorry, I know he's your kid, but…well, you saw how he can get. Point is, this stuff I'm talkin' about is inarguable. Even people who hate his guts can't deny he's a frickin' genius."
There was a combination of fear and awe on their faces now. Kohaku eventually threw up his hands. "But what's this got to do with the kid?!"
Joey chuckled. "Well…one, Mokuba's damn near as smart as his big brother. And two…Chief don't ask for much, does he? Gets along pretty well with what he's got?"
"Yes," Yuki said, putting a hand on her husband's shoulder.
"So when he does ask you guys for somethin', I'm guessin' you guys bend over backwards to get it for him, right?"
"…Yes."
Joey raised an expectant eyebrow. "Mm," he offered, and walked away.
All I know about the game Seto's playing in this chapter is that it's part of the Need for Speed franchise. Don't ask me why. I don't question these things. Little details like this are important to establish, I feel, but they aren't necessarily important to recognize. Sometimes, details are just there to add substance, rather than symbolism.
