In another story of mine where Seto's adoption goes differently, I have him befriend Yugi in his youth. In this story, I thought it would be interesting if I worked another kid into the mix. Joey showed up pretty naturally.

He's not the only youngling I'm working into the tapestry of this tale, though.

Keep your eyes open, as they say.

.

Noa found himself struck, more and more, by just how good Seto was at explaining the ways that Magic & Wizards worked, despite having never played a single match before. Joey had a little rulebook, and Noa would look it over while the other two talked about cards; so far, he hadn't found a single thing that Seto was mistaken about. He knew the rules so well that he could play through entire games in his imagination. For every card that Joey had, Seto could come up with a strategy. Together, they built a deck that Seto insisted was tournament-ready.

It became a tradition for them.

After school, Seto and Noa would stop by the old park. Joey would show up before long, and they would talk about what they'd gotten up to that day. Sometimes, Noa would do his homework while Seto and Joey discussed things only they—as children of poor families—understood. Other times, Seto would make a point to involve his brother.

Joey would sidestep, or outright refuse to engage with, certain topics.

Mostly about his home life.

Seto never pressed when this happened; he would move right on. Something about the way he did it told Noa that he understood, intimately, what Joey was doing, in such a way that he never needed to hear anything else. Seto understood Joey on an instinctive level, on something too deep to see on the surface, and Joey seemed to intuit Seto in the same way.

They were kindred spirits, these two, in a way that Noa would never be.

If Joey and Noa were on two ends of a spectrum, Seto was right in the center.

He never had any trouble with this tightrope; he navigated it with ease.

"You guys're firebirds, huh?" Joey asked one day, gesturing at the red-and-orange crest on their uniform jackets.

Seto nodded. "Yeah."

"Mm-hm," said Noa.

"That's a fancy school," Joey said. He didn't sound jealous; if anything, he sounded like he pitied them. "Real ritzy. I hear you gotta have old money to get in there."

"Not always," Seto said. "My mama and papa got me in, back before . . . everything. It's just, rich kids are usually the only ones who can afford the kind of tutoring you need to pass the entrance exams."

"So, what, you don't need no tutors?"

Seto shook his head. "Not really," he said.

"What're you, a genius?"

"Apparently," said Seto.

Joey eyed Noa suspiciously. "Don't take this the wrong way, man. I got no beef with you. But you look like you come from money, so what's going on? What's the deal here?"

"I do come from money," Noa said. "Seto is my brother, yes, but the adoption isn't final yet."

". . . Wait." Joey whipped around to look at Seto, thoroughly scandalized. "You're adopted?"

"Uh-huh."

"You guys look like twins! The hell? C'mon, you're screwing with me."

Seto shook his head. "No. We're not. You have it right. Noa was born into the Kaiba family. For me, it's just . . . my scores were too good to ignore. That's how I got into Phoenix Gate." He rubbed his chin. "I do think being a Kaiba is what got me back in, though. I had to leave for a while."

Joey was clearly dumbstruck by this revelation, and he was distracted by it for a long time.

Days, in fact.

He didn't seem to think Seto or Noa were lying to him, but he also couldn't shake the idea that they were pranking him.

Seto was the one who first noticed that Joey was too thin, and that his clothes didn't really fit right. He suggested that Noa should pack extra food in his lunch, so they would have something to share with their new friend. It was only right.

Noa reflected on the fact that, not even six months ago, he wouldn't have had any idea why anybody would do something like that for a kid they barely knew. But here he was, doing it without question like it was the most natural thing in the world, just because Seto suggested it. There was something special about the way Seto did things, some innate charisma he had that Noa couldn't identify consciously, but it always made his plans seem so simple, so obvious, that there was only ever one option: go along with what he said.

This also explained why, even though Noa found it confounding, Seto immediately presented this extra food—which he'd specifically requested as a way to feed Joey—as something for them all to share. He never acted like he was doing Joey a favor by teaching him how to play cards, or sharing lunch, or anything else he did; he would just present it as a communal activity that Joey was invited to join.

Noa asked him about it eventually.

"It's a pride thing," Seto said. "He's not used to anybody being generous, not without an ulterior motive. So, it's a lot easier to just pretend like we're keeping a seat open, like he'd just be joining in, instead of just giving him stuff."

"How do you know any of this, exactly?" Noa wondered.

"It's how I would react."

.

Amaya was well aware that Noa was taking more food than he needed. She kept religious account of everything that came into, and left, the Kaiba Estate. Noa never said anything, and when she—and the chef—asked him about it, he pretended to have no idea what they were talking about. He would look them right in the eye and say he never bothered to add anything to his meals as provided; everything was fine just the way it was.

The lady Kaiba decided it wasn't worth causing a scene over.

"He's rebelling," she said once, when Gozaburo came to her about it. "His brother probably has something to do with it. I suppose one could argue that Seto is proving a bad influence. I don't think so. I haven't the faintest idea what Noa is up to, but I don't think it's a problem."

"You're pleased with this development, aren't you?" Gozaburo guessed.

"Naturally," Amaya said. "We don't want obedient little automatons who never step out of line. We want Kaibas."

"I'm not sure what lying to us is supposed to accomplish."

"Don't pretend like you've never lied on principle, dearest." Amaya laughed softly, more at something private than at her husband. "He's lying because he doesn't think it's any of our business. He's going to be eleven soon. That's right around the age that I started pushing my parents out of my private affairs."

"You had a . . . rather dire motivation for that," Gozaburo noted.

"Maybe," Amaya allowed, "but I'm not sure any of that matters."

"Do you think we ought to let him know that we know? That he's lying, I mean. Eventually."

"Not really, no. It's hardly important."

Gozaburo's eyes narrowed. "You're proud of him for having the temerity to lie to your face."

Amaya grinned impishly. "Of course I am."

Gozaburo grunted, mulled this over, then laughed.

"I knew I married you for a reason," he said.