I feel like this is one of those concepts that I wouldn't have been able to articulate when I was younger. I don't know that for sure; I thought I was a bit of a genius when I was a kid. But that's kind of the point. We all think we're geniuses when we're kids.

… I think.

Maybe I was just an asshole.


.


"What does adulthood mean?"

Noa was sifting through a dueling deck, searching for interesting artwork, and didn't answer at first. He eventually glanced over to the other side of the couch where he sat, to see Ryo was watching him; he was looking for an answer. He hadn't just been talking to himself.

"Huh?" Noa asked.

"Adulthood," Ryo repeated. "What does it mean, do you think? Everybody has an idea on what an adult, what being a man, is. I wondered what you thought. I feel like you must have a unique way of looking at it, considering . . . everything. So, I just wondered."

Noa hummed, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "Well," he said, "whatever it means, it clearly has nothing to do with age." He chuckled to himself. "After all, if you're looking for my input because of my specific experiences, then here's the first thing you have to remember: I barely understand what time is, never mind age. I was ten for twelve years."

"Milestones?" Ryo wondered.

"I don't think so." Noa waved a hand. "Mokuba's hit most of the milestones you could point to, and he's in middle school. His home is paid for, he has a career, he has his own car. I mean, he doesn't drive it, but . . . he has it. He has Travis drive him around in it all the time. He loves that thing. Aniki's already talked to him about building a second house on the property at some point, so that he can have privacy when he's older. Is Mokuba an adult? And if he isn't, then what about Aniki? Emancipated at fifteen, legal guardian over a child, CEO of a multinational corporation. Is he an adult? Has he been one for years? Legally, yes. But is that the main metric? I'm not sure about that one, either."

". . . Maturity?" Ryo suggested.

"That's closer," Noa said, "but the thing about maturity is, what the fuck does it mean? I'm as mature as I've ever been, but I'm still nineteen. I'm going to look back at myself in a decade and think the me from right now is a fucking idiot. So like, I don't know. I think . . . maybe you're an adult when you stop worrying about it. Because, really, all adulthood can be is a legal thing. That's the only definition that has anything real attached to it." Noa shrugged. "It doesn't feel right, but it's all there is. The only tangible signs of adulthood are a state ID, or a passport. Or, wait. Can you get those as a minor?"

"Yes."

"Shit." Noa sighed. "You know what? I'll tell you what adulthood is, Ryo. It's a scam. It's an arbitrary need for control. Young people are scary and unpredictable, and older generations can't handle them, so they put all these bullshit restrictions on what they're supposed to want, what they're supposed to do, what they're supposed to chase, in order to grow up. And it's about the time that you realize all those rules and goalposts are pointless posturing that you really grow up."

"So . . . do you consider yourself an adult?"

"Absolutely not." Noa shook his head emphatically. "I know full well that the goalposts are fucking useless, but that doesn't mean I don't chase them."