Speaking as someone who always did well when time came for standardized tests, I've never been particularly impressed with them. I don't think Seto would make much of them either, and Noa wouldn't struggle with them either.

We never really see much about either of their … academic records, really.

But I tend to imagine that Seto and Noa both would be that kind of student who just strolls into the building, knocks out a perfect score, and strolls out. All within an hour.

They's geniuses, after all.

.

Seto never worried much about testing time. When schools trotted out standardized tests, with their little bubble sheets and booklets, Seto couldn't help but think of it as a miniature vacation. So it was that, when Noa asked him what he ought to expect, Seto shrugged and told him: "Nothing much."

He'd never bothered to wonder whether Noa was smarter than he; they were of a kind with each other, both considered prodigies. What Noa lacked in physical prowess, he made up for in political savvy. Like his father, Noa was gifted at what he called spreading sunshine. If anything, he was better at it than Gozaburo, since he didn't have broad shoulders and mammoth arms and a face naturally set into a scowl fit to intimidate God.

But when it came to "intellectual pursuits," Seto and Noa were right in line with each other.

It never crossed Seto's mind that he would have trouble with Test Day.

The brothers weren't placed near each other, when their class was filed into the Phoenix Gate cafeteria and they found their assigned seats. Seto didn't know if there was a purposeful reason behind this, whether the faculty worried that they might cheat; or maybe they'd already been blacklisted as troublemakers; or perhaps it was all randomized. All the same, Seto decided that it didn't make any real difference.

Noa was easy enough to spot; he was pretty much the only boy with grey hair in the entire school, and it shone green in the warm light of the cafeteria.

Seto settled down into that old habit of focusing entirely on his work. He read through the entire booklet before putting any answers down, because that was what Mama always told him to do. "It's always best to know what you're up against, before you start," she'd told him. "You can make sure to budget your time better that way."

Seto never needed to budget his time, but he still did it.

Yuki Yagami never believed that her son was too smart to need her guidance; she was a mother, and that was her calling. Seto followed her advice because it felt like he was honoring her whenever he did, and it didn't really matter if he found it useful. It was true that he could have finished the entire exam blindfolded, and he'd still have an hour left over, but Seto read through the booklet like Mama always said, because Mama said it and that was enough.

He thought Noa would understand.

Seto finished his work, turned his answer sheet over, pushed it all aside, and pulled out his new deck of cards. He'd put it together after going over every card in his new collection about forty or so times; it still set his heart aflutter whenever he remembered that he had a complete, considered, tactical deck of Magic & Wizards cards. This wasn't just the best he could do with a limited supply; he was proud of this deck, and he always made a point to relish the experience of drawing each card and flipping it up to see properly.

It calmed him.

It soothed him.

It made him feel powerful.

.

"I'm glad to have the opportunity to speak to you, Missus Kaiba."

Amaya leaned against one of the students' desks and watched Russell Oliver with the kind of sharp glare that so often cut the tendons of lesser men; she was impressed, and pleased, that this man didn't back down. He stood straight, shoulders back, arms held out as he talked, open and engaged; there was no fear in this one, and Amaya always preferred it when the people she spoke with didn't crumble before she ever said a word.

"You mentioned Noa and Seto both, when you called me," Amaya said. "Is there anything I ought to be concerned about, Mister Oliver?"

Oliver shook his head. "Not at all, not at all! I wanted to speak to you in person because . . . well. This is momentous." He gestured to the pile of folders on his desk. "Is it safe to assume you are aware that our students recently sat for this year's STARS test?"

"The . . . Standardized Test for the Assessment and Reporting of Students," Amaya said, quirking an eyebrow. "Bit of a mouthful. The state was really pushing for that acronym, weren't they?"

Mister Oliver chuckled. "I'm sure they came up with the acronym first and made it fit later," he said. "Nonetheless, this is one of the chief tools the district uses to check our students' progress, and it's a big part of each year. There are five subjects: science, math, reading, writing, and social studies."

"Naturally," said Amaya, gesturing.

"Each student has a chance to earn a total of 10 points for each subject," Mister Oliver went on, "meaning that the highest possible score is 50." He picked up one of the folders and waved it around. "We hold a special assembly at the end of the year for those students who achieve excellence, and one of the awards we offer is . . . well, for receiving 50 stars."

Amaya's eyes gleamed. "Do you mean to inform me that I should set aside time to attend this assembly, Mister Oliver?"

"I've been teaching here for five years now," Mister Oliver said, "and I have never had the honor of teaching a 50-star student before." He handed the folder he'd been gesturing with, along with another, over to Amaya. "This year, I've taught two."

Amaya opened the folders. ". . . Noa and Seto both?" she asked, quietly, not really asking.

"Correct, Missus Kaiba." Mister Oliver was beaming. "I know that there's been some talk about your boys having gotten into trouble, and I won't pretend that everything has been smooth sailing. Your sons are . . . quite passionate. Which, I mean, I realize that is euphemistic, but I trust you understand why I can't go into more detail. It just wouldn't be proper. Regardless, I think Seto and Noa have both shown all of us here at Phoenix Gate Academy that we have plenty of improvements to make. I don't mind telling you that your boys are two of the finest students I have ever seen walk through our doors."

Amaya laughed, a little breathlessly.

"Thank you," she said. "This is momentous news. I'm glad you asked to speak with me about this." She smiled. "My boys. My darling boys."