I think we all had the idea in our head, at one point, that growing up meant getting rid of toys, that we wouldn't have time for playing anymore. And, like, sure. That's actually a pretty common thing. Time is one of our most precious commodities, and so few of us can afford to spend what little we have on toys.
But, I mean, we're talking about rich people here.
That's part of the power fantasy.
At least, it is for me.
.
Kisara's room in Kaiba Manor was filled with things that would have looked much more at home in the sanctuary of a girl half her age. Toys of all sorts, sizes and shapes, adorned the shelves and tablespace; set up in any number of awkward poses and placed in order and association with each other in a way that only made sense to her.
She had anime posters, videogame cases, cosplay pieces, novelty keychains, all pinned to the walls. She had a trading card collection so vast that it would have been obscene in any other house but this one, where the master of the manor had a literal vault. Her collection, however, wasn't exclusively Magic & Wizards cards. She had plenty of competing games' cards, alongside baseball, basketball, and football cards.
Seto, for his part, took quiet—but fervent—delight in helping Kisara display every indulgence she ever even approached. Her entertainment space, where sat her television and game consoles, was built into the wall in the shape of an oversized Nintendo Switch; it was the pride of the house.
Mokuba didn't say anything when she came home with too many Funko Pops. But as she started setting them on her bed to sort them, he did step onto the threshold and watch her in silence.
Kisara broke that silence, eventually: "My family has always had very specific ideas on what it is to raise children." She cleared her throat and looked all about the room, surveying it like a queen over her realm. "I was not permitted these sorts of things when I was young. It is not proper for a lady to surround herself with frivolity."
"I'm . . . not sure if I like your family much," Mokuba murmured.
"They are fine people, in their way," Kisara said, "but that is precisely the issue: their way is their way, and they are set in it. My siblings have all grown in the same way that I did. Now that I have found myself in possession of a space where their dictations cannot reach . . . I find myself quite enjoying the process of spiting them."
Mokuba smiled lightly. "I think I get that," he said.
Kisara chuckled. "You sound surprised. Did you think, perhaps, that I was making sport of your brother? That this was my way of bringing the point home that he acts like a child? That, in order to meet him on his level, I must lower myself to this?"
Mokuba's smile vanished; he didn't speak.
Kisara turned to face the young Kaiba; her expression was soft. "I am awkward. It has been centuries since I was born into a human body. Millennia since I was ever properly mortal. I must guess, every time I find myself in a social situation. Even now, I am wholly unsure that what I say is helpful in any way." He coughed into a fist. "I must impress upon you this: I am nothing if not admiring of your brother's strength and courage. That he can face the world with his chest out and his shoulders back, to declare for all to hear that he is unafraid to embrace all parts of himself. When I bring toys and games and dolls into this room, it is only my attempt to emulate that courage."
The smile eventually came back to Mokuba's face.
He nodded.
Then he said: "I guess . . . I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Niisama's never had good luck with other people. Especially his peers. And he . . . likes you. A lot. Like, a whole lot. And, it's just . . . I'm sorry. It's not like you've done anything wrong, and I shouldn't make you feel like you have. I just keep waiting for this to go bad, too."
Kisara crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes," she said. "This, I can understand. I can use all the words I like, but they mean little on their own. An oath absent blood is just poetry, and all that. I am sure that you and your brothers have had more than enough of words." She paused, thoughtfully. "I will make no promises. I will not disrespect you so. I ask only that you watch, that you wait, so that you will see what I am, and what I continue to be."
Mokuba nodded again.
"I can do that."