I suppose an explanation is in order.

For those who read this story initially, you probably wonder why I'm starting over, considering I never got very far. Well, that's kind of the thing. It's been 7 years since I last touched this story, and even then I never really did much with it.

I've decided to finish every story on my backlog. And that included this one, and its sister story. But since it's been more than half a decade since I wrote for either, I thought it would be best to just start over. I'm using the same prompt list as before, but the stories themselves will be markedly different.

I'm a different person now. I'm a different writer now.

It won't take too long to catch up to where I was before, but I hope you enjoy the new versions of the first few chapters all the same.

Have fun, y'all.

I know I did.

.

There was something about seeing the richest man in the hemisphere dressed in canvas pants, an old t-shirt, and heavy boots, that felt religious. Kisara didn't pretend like she understood modern humanity, or how people in the common era were supposed to act; she hadn't been a human in so many centuries. But she thought there was something innately calming about watching an expert at work, doubly so when it wasn't for a paycheck.

Seto Kaiba wasn't a plumber, but he was an engineer; it was clear from how calm and focused he was that he fully understood what he was doing right now.

Kisara wondered if Seto felt the same way, whenever he watched her with a weapon.

Kisara grinned, and her gleaming fangs flashed. "You seem comfortable down there, my prince," she said. It felt strange, sometimes, to call him that. He wasn't royalty by any stretch, and all told she was probably more powerful than he was. But the dragon in her blood liked the nickname, so she used it. As for Seto, he didn't seem to mind.

"It's soothing," Seto said from his place beneath the sink, where he'd been tinkering for the past two hours. "There's an answer here. I just have to find it."

"When, precisely, did you learn to work with pipes?" Kisara wondered.

"My predecessor insisted that I learn basic skills," Seto said. "He claimed it was vital that I know all the basic functions of my house staff, so that I would be able to properly supervise their work. I think the real reason was that he found blue-collar work demeaning, and so he expected me to also find it demeaning. Making me do it was supposed to belittle me."

"The more I hear about this man," Kisara mused, tapping her foot to some rhythm that only she could hear; she thought it might be the dragon's heart beating, "the more I think he was a petty, small, insignificant creature."

Seto laughed. Something clanged, and he let out a hissing little curse. Then he said, a moment later: "I think you're probably right about that. There is a part of me that wants to argue, to say that you didn't know him, you don't understand what sort of man he honestly was . . . but I think maybe you do."

"I have dealt with many men like this one you've described," Kisara said, almost purring. "They nearly always consider themselves to be . . . predators. Kings. Mighty lions who reign o'er all they survey. I find it much simpler to let them think what they like. Arguing with them, stripping away the lies they use to comfort themselves, only leads to trouble. And blood."

"Men like that," Seto said, his voice changing suddenly, "only respond to violence."

"I have noticed this, yes," said Kisara.

Seto cleared his throat. "I'm . . . relieved you never met me when I was a man like that. I don't think it would have gone well."

Kisara shook her head. "You were never a man like that, my prince. You were a boy like that. There are no false idols necessary to explain a boy acting out in anger. It is only when, if, that boy grows in stature but does not rise up to meet it, that he becomes trouble. You are not trouble."

Seto hummed, most to himself, and didn't respond.