A lot of this story is about domestic moments, but it's still a story about the Kaiba family, so it shouldn't be surprising, I think, that there's violence involved. There always is. YGO never did pull punches when it came to that part.

I think maybe that's what sets it apart from other sports manga / anime, with which it bears a lot of the same trappings.

I dunno. Maybe I'm just coming up with excuses to add guns and martial arts to things.

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The only person Gozaburo could never fool, no matter how competently he could lie, was Amaya. She knew he was getting too anxious to focus, and that he was eventually going to start a fight with some random employee, or a police officer on the street, just to blow off steam. In order that they avoid lengthy legal proceedings, Amaya recommended that her husband submit to his instincts.

"You want to return to your old methods," she said. "I can see it in every part of you. Go. Find them. Bring the fight to them. Show them that you're no armchair general."

Gozaburo, clenching and unclenching his fists, caught his wife with a fierce stare. "Are you certain?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll not have it said that I abandoned my family for the sake of frayed nerves."

"Your sense of honor kicks up at the strangest times, dearest." Amaya pushed his shoulder. "Are you, or are you not, a warrior? Go to war."

Gozaburo drew in a deep breath. "This would be about the time I would call Raj," he said, almost wistfully. His brow furrowed, his eyes flared, and he nodded. "It's high time I end this. Paradius has a lesson to learn." He gripped Amaya by both arms. "Our kingdom is yours."

"You always were more sentimental than you let yourself believe," Amaya said, smiling fondly. "Out with you. I've been running this house for years."

Gozaburo managed a laugh. "So you have, dearest," he said. "So you have."

He turned on a heel, strode down the hallway, and disappeared.

Amaya watched him go.

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Seto spent the majority of his free time out in the back gardens. They were peaceful, and the calm surroundings allowed him to quiet the noise in his mind. Sometimes, he would spend a whole afternoon sitting on the bench where he'd first felt like he belonged; he would walk the paths and admire the flowers. The gardeners would greet him, smile, call him Bocchan, and they would answer any questions he had about their work.

One such afternoon, Seto was reading from his history textbook. He had no assignments that day—or, rather, none left—but there wasn't anything stopping him.

Even though he didn't want to admit it to himself, and only acknowledged it in the deepest parts of himself, Seto often found himself sitting out here, reading, simply because he'd never had the free time to do that since . . . well, since Mokuba. He wasn't used to having multiple trained professionals on call who could help keep an eye on his brother; the Domino Children's Home was supposed to have such professionals, but it didn't. Seto had still been Mokuba's primary caregiver. He hadn't minded, really, but it'd been draining. Seto hadn't properly rested in what seemed like the past three years.

The biggest change in his life, since coming to live in Kaiba Manor, wasn't the space. It wasn't the money, or the house staff, or anything like that; it was the simple fact that he could honestly rely on the adults here.

Certainly, the master of the manor rarely, if ever, spent time with Mokuba. Gozaburo rarely, if ever, spent time with anyone except his wife. He was traditional like that. But Seto couldn't find it in him to fault the man for that. Kohaku Yagami, who had loved his sons fiercely, only ever spent a couple of hours at most with them on a given day.

Most nights, by the time Kohaku got home, Mokuba was already asleep.

By the time Mokuba woke up in the morning, Kohaku was already at work.

All the same, the house staff who upheld the Kaiba Estate had plenty of experience with children, most of them having been around since Noa was born, and so they had no trouble with Mokuba; even when Amaya wasn't on hand to keep an eye on her youngest, Mokuba was never left alone. So it was that Seto finally had time to himself, time that didn't require him to be constantly on guard, constantly intent on his surroundings, constantly keeping an ear out for something, anything, that required his attention.

The truth was, aside from school, nothing required his attention anymore.

Seto hadn't had any idea how liberating that would be; it hadn't ever crossed his mind that such a thing was possible. He'd never been able to imagine living in a house that felt whole again. He'd lost that, somewhere along the line, and every so often he was freshly bowled over to remember he had it again.

It was here.

Seto had a home again.

A real home.

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Seto always knew when Noa was approaching because he could hear his brother's cane. He'd gotten a replacement, and this one was sturdier; meant for heavy use. Nobody told Noa that this cane would hold up better as a weapon, if necessary, but Seto was quite certain everyone involved in procuring it kept that idea in mind. It was heavier, and the way it reported itself across any surface was distinctive.

Seto looked up from his book and watched. Amaya walked slowly, ceremonially, behind her eldest. Noa looked nervous, but happy. Excited. Seto wonder what this could be about, and he set the book aside. "Hi," he said, slowly. "Did something happen? You look . . . serious."

Noa shrugged, and it looked like a muscle spasm. "Not exactly," he said. "Seto, I . . . wanted to do something. For you." He rubbed his free hand against the opposite arm. "I'll admit, when I first woke up, and I found out I was going to have brothers, I wasn't sure what Hahaue and Chichiue were thinking. What was wrong with our family as it already was? Why did we need new people? But . . . well, I mean. Clearly, we did. Clearly, we were missing something. Thinking about this family without you and Mokuba in it doesn't feel right. I think maybe you were always supposed to come here."

Some part of Seto, the part of him that missed his father, wanted to be affronted. But he couldn't quite manage it; not the way Noa said it. Seto smiled. ". . . Thanks, Noa," he said.

"I would like to think," Amaya said thoughtfully, "if things had unfolded in a kinder way, and you'd been given the blessing of remaining with your parents, you and Noa would have met anyway. Perhaps you would have been friends. But that's not the world we have been given. I am honored to have been placed in a position to watch over you."

How was it, Seto wondered, that Amaya Kaiba always seemed to know what he was thinking?

How did she always know the perfect things to say?

Seto's smile widened. "Hahaue."

"So," Noa cut in, "I asked Hahaue if she could help me with something." He cleared his throat dramatically. "I wanted to make sure both you and Mokuba knew that . . . I'm glad you came. But I wanted to give you this, alone, because I don't think you've had the chance to have something all to yourself very much. I thought maybe it would be good to give you that chance."

Seto frowned. "What are you talking about? You . . . got me something?"

Amaya had her arms behind her back. She now revealed what she'd been holding: a large white box, meticulously wrapped, which she set down beside Seto on the bench where he sat. "Don't worry," she said. "Mokuba will have a little something all his own. He isn't being forgotten. But I think Noa's right. I think you deserve to be your own person, to have something that's yours. Only yours."

Noa was blushing.

"Welcome home," he said.