Gozaburo Kaiba was a specific kind of rich dude.
I think his sons are an entirely different breed.
.
"The problem with freedom," Noa said, "is that it's so conditional. It's arbitrary, somehow, like. You just to happen to have more stuff, so you're freer than other people. No other reason. That's it. That's all it is." He pointed vaguely in the direction of the hall. "We have a laundry room over that way, so we don't have to visit the laundromat. But also, the reason we can have that room is because we also have enough money to cover the energy it takes to run the equipment in there."
"Mm," said Ryo, who hung his clothes on a line outside because his dryer never worked.
"Chichiue used to say that shit about everyone having the same 24 hours in the day." Noa held up a finger. "I knew, even when I was little, that that wasn't true. He didn't raise me. He didn't take care of me. That was Hahaue's job, or else my tutors. His job always seemed to me like it was comprised entirely of yelling at people until they did what he wanted."
"A not-insignificant percentage of executive positions amount to exactly that," Ryo said.
"Chichiue would call in randomly to tell his secretary he was working from home. Could anybody else do that? Not in his Kaiba-Corp, they sure as shit couldn't. Now, Aniki doesn't care where the work gets done, so long as it's done. But Chichiue? He was always a hard-ass about getting to the office on time, every day, no excuses. You'd better be in the hospital, hooked up to at least three monitors, or your ass was grass."
"Do you . . . have a salary?" Ryo asked suddenly.
"Me?" Noa looked surprised. "No. I don't have an official position at the company yet. Aniki set me up with a bank account when I first left the hospital. I get an allowance, the same as Mokuba."
"Isn't Mokuba Kaiba-Corp's vice president? Why would he need an allowance?"
"Mokuba's salary gets donated," Noa said. "He keeps tabs on a bunch of kids' charities and holds polling and stuff like that, so he can decide where the money goes each year. Sometimes, he'll just go on crowdfunding sites and start paying off peoples' goals. He bought a ton of medical debt last year."
Ryo considered this; chewed on it.
"I know," Noa said, eventually. "It must be a headache to listen to my rich ass talk about the whole unfairness of society or whatever. I swear I'm not trying to belittle you. I want everyone to have the kind of freedom I have. The freedom my brothers have. I really do. I've been talking to Aniki about setting up my own non-profit, for families dealing with serious accidents. You know, like mine. Not just car accidents, but like, any medical emergency. We'd take on the insurance payments, the medical bills, living expenses, everything."
Ryo smiled. "I think I like that," he said. He didn't mention that his own family could have benefited quite a lot from a charity like that, but he definitely thought it. Something about his expression must have made it obvious he was thinking about something serious, because Noa frowned at him.
"You good?" he asked. "I'm sorry. Did I step over a boundary?"
"No," Ryo said. "I don't think you're belittling anyone, Noa. Certainly not me. It's important for you to understand how the world works. What benefits you have. The sorts of experiences you understand, and the sorts you don't."
"Aniki says," Noa said, sounding like a dutiful student of philosophy, "it's one of the things we take on when we enter into the benefits of our station. We have to understand the burdens that station puts on other people, or else we're no better than Chichiue."