References like the ones you will see in the first half or so of this chapter feels like breaking the fourth wall, though I doubt that's the right way to describe it. Either way, it's this sort of stuff that I tend to find fascinating.
It might feel like the plot isn't really going anywhere at this point, but trust me when I say that things will start falling into place. I'm being thorough primarily to make sure that I don't miss anything important. The family dynamic that's being built here is pretty complex.
In any case, I hope that you enjoy this installment. I had a great time with it.
Kohaku was used to waking up at 5 AM.
As such, he was sure that he would be the first one awake when morning hit; but he wasn't. As he was sitting up, staring around at the bedroom where he would be staying for the foreseeable future, he spied a tall, angular figure stride past in the hallway, swift and silent.
The Yagami patriarch showered in the adjoining bathroom, dressed in the clothes he had worn the previous day—washed, dried, and folded by the house staff—and was running in circles in his mind trying to figure out what he was supposed to do now when Mokuba stepped into the doorway. "Good morning," the boy offered with a quiet smile. Kohaku looked at him with a sudden note of—was it fear? "How are you feeling?"
"Can't complain," Kohaku replied, remembering his manners. It wouldn't do to tell the truth ("I feel like driving my face into a brick wall until I pass out"), considering the circumstances.
"I wanted to show you something," Mokuba said, and gestured for Kohaku to follow him. With a quick glance at his wife—still sleeping peacefully—Kohaku shrugged and did as requested. As they walked down the hall, Mokuba said, "Technology's a lot different now. Not just the games and stuff. Everything. My brother and m—I," Kohaku actually chuckled at this, "do a lot of work with technology. Computers and stuff."
They entered a room that looked like it was a few chairs away from being a movie theater. Mokuba ignored the gigantic television—at least, that's what Kohaku assumed it was—in favor of a device sitting on its own, on a desk in the corner. It was a laptop computer, but unlike one Kohaku had ever seen. It was sleek, shiny, black, and it glowed when Mokuba turned it on. Kohaku almost asked how much the thing had cost, but eventually decided against it; it wasn't like he would ever be able to afford one.
"What year is it, for you guys?" Mokuba asked.
"1994," Kohaku answered.
The smirk that rose on the boy's face made him look frighteningly like his brother. "Twelve years ago," he murmured. Programs and boxes and other such things popped up on the screen, and Mokuba navigated through them with practiced ease that bordered on boredom. "I know you're wondering what kind of information might be able to help deal with . . . Gozaburo. Well, here's something I thought you'd like to know about."
Kohaku raised an eyebrow. "Google? What, exactly, is a google?"
Mokuba giggled, and no longer looked like his brother (my son, his mind reminded him with a pang of some emotion he couldn't identify). "It's a search engine. You can use it to look up anything on the internet. You know how normally, you'd research something with encyclopedias and newspapers and stuff like that? Well, this is the technology that's pretty much replaced all that."
Mokuba typed "Gozaburo Kaiba" into a little box on the screen, and clicked a little button labeled "Google Search." Immediately, a series of blue-colored labels appeared with the man's name on them; under each was a little blurb of information. Mokuba clicked on one of them, and it turned out to be some sort of magazine article about the state of the Kaiba Corporation when Gozaburo died in 2001.
"Two-thousand-one . . . " Kohaku murmured thoughtfully.
Mokuba stood up from the chair. "See? You just click on those blue links there, and it'll take you to whatever information you want to find. It might take a while to find anything worthwhile, but I figured it might help you out. You look kind of restless."
Kohaku nodded dumbly. "Yeah . . . yeah, that should be good. Thank you."
"You just click this little arrow here, the one pointing to the left? And you'll go back a page. You can click this little house here, and it'll take you back to the search bar." Mokuba stepped away. "If you need any help, talk to Kiko. If she looks surprised at whatever you don't know, just tell her you're computer-illiterate." He winked. "I have to get ready for school. Good luck."
Kohaku sat down and stared at the screen. " . . . Thank you," he repeated.
Mokuba left him alone, and went to school.
On the other end of the mansion, later on that same morning, Yuki spoke to Akiko.
"How long have you been working for . . . Seto?" Yuki frowned, as though ashamed of the words coming out of her mouth. "Sorry. So much talk of him as 'Mister Kaiba' and 'Kaiba-sama' and 'Oh-my-God-it's-him,' sometimes I forget he even has a first name."
Akiko chuckled. "I know what you mean," she said, and didn't catch the meaning behind the relief on Yuki's face. "Not long. Seto-sama hired me on to help Bocchan with schoolwork. He's skipped ahead to middle school, you know," Yuki did not miss the maternal pride in the woman's voice as she said this, "and sometimes things are . . . well, interesting."
"I can imagine," Yuki said. "Sotaro-chan has always been gifted, too. He'd probably be in high school if he wanted. But he says he wants to make sure he doesn't miss anything."
"Seems like your family is full of geniuses," Akiko mused. "Must be tough."
"Sometimes, it's . . . well, sometimes I feel like I'm falling behind. He grasps things so fast,
especially math and science. I've tried to brush up on things myself, you know, so that I might be able to help him. But I think he's going to outstrip me soon."
"Bocchan was home-schooled for a while. I would handle lessons when Seto-sama had to work. He's intuitive. Empathetic. He knows how people think. He'd probably make a great therapist someday. Who knows? Maybe he could counsel Seto-sama, get him to loosen up a bit more." Akiko chuckled, but stopped as soon as she got a good look at Yuki's face. "I meant no offense," she said quickly.
"Oh—oh, no, don't worry about that," Yuki held up her hands. "I was just thinking . . . well, the reason we're here is because we're having some trouble, and Seto said he could help us. But with how busy he is . . . I wonder if he has the time to be dealing with us."
"I wouldn't worry." Akiko smiled, and it was a lovely smile. "Seto-sama takes matters of family very seriously. Chances are, he already had three or four plans in motion before he ever offered to help."
Sotaro came up the hallway. "Good morning, Young Master Yagami," Akiko said, bowing her head.
"Hey, baby," Yuki said, putting an arm around her son's shoulders as he hugged her. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," Sotaro said. He looked over at Akiko. "Um . . . M-Mokuba's at school, but he said if I wanted to . . . study, there's a library on this floor? He said you would show me where it is."
"Are you on vacation?" Akiko asked. "I know some districts are on break right now."
Sotaro shrugged. "Something like that."
"And you want to keep on top of things," Akiko guessed. Sotaro nodded. "Well, then. I think I can help you. If you would accompany me?" She glanced at Yuki. The three of them made their way down the hall. "Bocchan must be excited," she said after a while, more to herself. Yuki looked at her. "He doesn't have many friends his own age," Akiko added. "And he loves spending time with family. Of course, most of the time that means Seto-sama."
"They've been on their own for quite a while, haven't they?"
"Since Seto-sama turned fifteen," Akiko replied, not catching the urgency in Yuki's voice, though Sotaro seemed to. "Their father—sorry, predecessor. Seto-sama insists on that. He died not long after Seto-sama's birthday, and Seto-sama inherited everything. This house, the Kaiba Corporation, the Kaiba family fortune . . . have you not seen him on television?"
Yuki shook her head. "We don't watch much TV," she said. "Ko, my husband, it feels like he's always on the clock. And with our . . . situation, well—it's hard to find time to relax, you know?"
"Certainly," Akiko nodded. "Maybe they're more regional than I thought. You don't live here in Domino, do you?"
Yuki shook her head. "No."
"Well, around here, Seto-sama and his brother are icons." Again, she seemed to swell with pride. "You'll see." They approached a set of double-doors, and Akiko pushed them open grandly, with an obvious flourish. "Here we are, Young Master," she said. "Anything and everything you could possibly want to read, it's in here."
Indeed, the library was huge; shelves upon shelves reached up to the ceiling. The room wasn't any taller than any other on this floor, but it was wide, and deep. Hundreds of volumes, of all sizes and bindings, lay waiting.
Sotaro's mouth opened slightly, and his eyes went wide. He stepped across the threshold like an acolyte approaching an altar.
Akiko grinned.
So did Yuki.
