There's a large subset of the YGO fandom who place a premium on how Seto acts in canon, in the sense that they seem to resist the possibility that he could ever change for the better, could ever heal, could ever become a kinder, gentler person.

I'm 36 years old as I write this. I'll be 37 soon.

I've become three different people in the time between now and when I was Seto's age.

So, I think that's why I make a point to write Seto when he's older, and specify that he's had some time to cool down. He's still the same person he always was, at least to me, but there's more room to explore, I think, when I give him a chance to reach out to other people.

People I think he would like quite a lot.

Like Ryo Bakura, for example.

.

Ryo didn't think he would ever feel comfortable inside Kaiba Manor. The estate grounds were intimidating enough; actually setting foot inside the building felt like sacrilege, like he was a trespasser. He felt sure that an ancient god would strike him down just for looking at it. He wondered, just for a moment, what that god might look like. After a moment, however, he realized that he already knew the answer to that question.

A woman, with icy blue eyes and shock-white hair, who had lightning behind her teeth.

"Good morning," came a low, rumbling voice. Ryo was shocked out of his reverie as thoroughly as if he'd walked right into a wall. He blinked owlishly, staring at the eldest Kaiba like he'd never seen him before, even though Ryo and Seto had gone to high school together.

They'd shared multiple classes over the years.

"Ah," said Ryo. "Yes. Hello."

Seto smirked. "Forgive me for interrupting your thoughts. Shall I assume you're here to see Noa?"

Ryo cleared his throat, averted his gaze, then made himself look Seto in the eye again. "Y-Yes. That's right."

Seto gestured. "He's in the back gardens. Go ahead."

"Thank you." Ryo paused, watching Seto step past him, then went on: "I, um . . . I wanted to thank you." He cleared his throat, berated himself for being so awkward about this; they weren't strangers, for God's sake. "For, um . . . helping me. With my troubles at home, I mean. My heater."

Seto turned, and offered the ghost of a smile. "You're welcome," he said; he sounded sincere. More sincere than he ever did in public. "Part of being a Kaiba comes with prestige. Unearned, for the most part. Regardless, it's the fact of the matter, and the least we can do with our affluence is to help our community with it." Seto paused; he seemed to realize he was giving a speech. Then he said, a little more naturally: "Noa has intimated that you want some way to pay us back."

Ryo flinched. "Uh . . . well. I mean. Yes."

"What you can do," Seto said, "for me and for Noa, is to remember something: all this, that we have." He gestured around him, referring not just to the huge house, but everything that belonged to the Kaiba name. "It's luck. A matter of circumstance and nothing else. We earned this opulence no more than you earned the color of your hair."

Ryo opened his mouth to say something, then stopped himself.

He realized he had no idea what to say.

"If Noa offers to pay for something," Seto went on, "remember that he is not attempting to lord his superiority over you, or make you indebted to him. He's trying only to enfold you into the people who benefit from our presence in Domino. We're only good for so much. This? This is something tangible we can do."

Ryo found himself smiling. "I . . . think I understand."

"He wants you to be safe, and warm," Seto said. "You deserve that."

Ryo's smile widened. "Thank you," he said again, and this time Ryo felt it.

"You look like you want to say something more," Seto pressed after a moment. "It's fine. Speak freely."

Ryo scratched at the back of his neck. "It's just . . . we spent years together in school, and we were both embroiled in so much. To do with Yugi and everyone, I mean. But I can't help but feel like I'm meeting you for the first time. You seem . . . different."

Seto studied Ryo for a moment. His old, familiar smirk cut into his face. "I told Mokuba once that this space, this house, is the one place in all the world where I can guarantee him the safety for him to be vulnerable. He told me that the best way to help him reach that place would be to give him an example."

"You . . . lower your guard here. Take off the mask of your public persona. So that your brother feels safe to do it, too."

"Correct."

Ryo tentatively put a hand on Seto's arm. "Good for you," he said. "You deserve that."

Seto nodded. "Thank you."