My tendency is to write character studies, even when I'm dealing with plot-heavy works. I have to wonder if that's why I usually have such trouble writing said plot-heavy stories. My forays into original fiction has always felt a bit strange; maybe that's why.

There have been a number of chapters in this story that might seem like filler content, but the point of them is still important enough (to me) that I feel they should be included. I think that if a story thread adds something, pretty much anything, to the audience's understanding of a character, then it's worth putting in, and thus isn't filler.

Pretty much every chapter I've written after the Yagamis' introduction to the plot falls into this definition.

I hope you'll trust me when I reiterate that they're important.


Seto Kaiba swept into the room like a thunderstorm. It was after six-o-clock in the evening, almost seven, and when he entered Mokuba was stationed in one corner of the room doing homework in preparation for Monday. The Yagamis sat on the couch, talking in quiet voices.

When Mokuba saw his brother, his studious expression split into a grin, and he stood up. "Niisama," he said. Kaiba shifted off his black trench coat as Akiko slipped into the room. She took the coat, as well as his suit jacket and tie, and bowed her head as she left the room with the articles in tow. Seto watched her, looking surprised for some reason.

Dressed now in black slacks and a dark blue shirt, Kaiba looked no less imposing than he had when fully suited. But when he finally looked at Mokuba and subtly lifted an arm toward him, the tension left in a hurry. Mokuba hopped over and hugged his sibling tightly about the waist, and Kaiba rubbed the boy's back with nonchalant affection.

"Hey, kid," Kaiba said.

"You're early," Mokuba said, sounding immensely pleased. Yuki and Kohaku glanced at each other, thinking the same thing: Six-forty at night is early? But they said nothing.

Kaiba nodded. "Wonder of wonders." Mokuba let go, and Kaiba let his hand drop to his side. He glanced at the family on the couch. "I trust Yoshimi has accommodated you," he said, all warmth and humor vanished from his tone. He was all business now, and Yuki could feel her husband bristle at the perceived offense. She put a hand on his arm, silently warning him to stay calm.

Kohaku didn't take condescension well.

"Yes, she has," Yuki said, smiling. "Thank you very much for allowing us into your home. I promise we won't be a bother."

Kaiba looked like he wanted to snap at her, but thought better of it at the last moment. He cleared his throat. "Good," he said sharply. He looked at Mokuba. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes, Niisama."

"Is your homework finished?"

"Almost."

"I don't want anything electronic other than lights turned on until it's done," Kaiba said. Mokuba was already nodding. Kaiba turned back to Yuki, very pointedly not looking at Sotaro or Kohaku. "If you require anything, speak to Yoshimi. She's been instructed to see to your needs while you are here." He looked at his brother again. "I have a conference call to take care of. I'll be in my study."

"Yes, Niisama." Mokuba did a remarkable job of hiding his disappointment.

Kaiba ruffled the boy's hair—an apology?—and left the room.

"Busy man," Kohaku mumbled; it didn't sound like a compliment.

Mokuba shrugged; he was clearly no stranger to nights like this. He sat back down and returned to his work. They all noticed that Mokuba attended to his homework the same way that their son did: like there was nothing else in the world that really mattered. He seemed to have already forgotten that other people were in the room.

Akiko came in a while later and asked if anyone would like anything; she had to ask Mokuba twice. He requested a glass of milk, then went right back to what looked like a math handout. The margins were covered with scratchy notes and figures, and he seemed to be struggling with it. When it looked like he was about to tear out his hair in clumps as though he thought the answer were hiding in there, Sotaro pointed gingerly at the paper and said, "Try...figuring out y first."

Mokuba blinked, stared at the younger boy, then glanced back at his worksheet. He looked skeptical, but erased a number of his notes and tried again. A minute or so later, he grinned. "Hey! It worked!"

Sotaro gave a quaint little smile.

About twenty or so minutes after his brother's arrival interrupted him, Mokuba threw up his hands and proclaimed that he was finished. He set about putting everything back into his bag, immeasurably relieved; one might have thought he was filing taxes. Hopping up onto his feet, he placed his backpack over on a small hook near the front door. He turned back to Sotaro. "Thanks. That one was driving me crazy."

Sotaro smiled again.

"C'mon," he said, waving the boy to follow him, "I want to show you something." Then he seemed to remember that Sotaro's parents were in the room, and he turned to look at them expectantly.

"Go on," Yuki said, chuckling. "Have fun."

Mokuba grinned and waved again, more insistently, until Sotaro stood up and started to follow him out of the room.

"I'll say this much," Kohaku murmured when he and his wife were alone. "He's loosening up a bit. That's good, right? Don't think he's ever had a kid around his own age to play with before."

"Those few interested enough to talk to him don't really have anything in common with him," Yuki said, sounding despondent. "He's had some kids spend time with him at school, and he's been invited to come over and play before. But he's never had anyone come to our house."

"Do you think he's embarrassed?" Kohaku asked, surprisingly nonchalant as he stared around the parlor, with its marble floors and its oak furniture. If anyone else had been in the room, they would have noticed that the man was much calmer now. Alone with Yuki, he seemed at ease. Relieved.

"I don't think so," Yuki said. "I think if he were, he would have said something." She smiled. "Sotaro-chan doesn't exactly hold back."

Kohaku smirked, in a way that Mokuba would have found instantly, and endearingly, familiar. "No. He doesn't."


The personality of Seto's biological father was something that didn't really come to me until writing this story. I had an image of Yuki in mind for years before coming into this, but Kohaku was a mystery. I've only ever written him in a smattering of scenes, and all of them have occurred after his beloved wife's death.

I wondered what sort of person he was before that pivotal event that changed everything. This was one of the first scenes when I got an idea of what the answer to that question is.

I will admit, though, that he's still something of a mystery.