#closing my eyes hand to heart smiling into the distance over [will roland As uncle peenie As virgin mary dancer] ;w;

[unproduciblesmackdown]

For today’s video, I give you one of the longest standing Christmas Extravaganza traditions: The Virgin Mary and The Virgin Mary Dancers cheering up Santa with their burlesque rendition of “Santa Baby” feat. Sabels, Suspenders, and Stripping. The ‘Nice List’ always was overrated, anyway. Choreo by @cogrobs, Costumes by @bren_bash

[unfolded73]

love this director's cut idea! ⭐for any section you want to talk about!

I decided to do a director’s commentary on “The Things We Don’t Speak Aloud” because I have a lot of thoughts about Marcy and Clint Brewer. Below the cut for length:

Ask me for a director’s commentary of one of my fics or a section of a fic

Marcy looked around at the motel room she’d just stepped into while Clint muscled his suitcase over the threshold and closed the door. The decorations were… unique, that was probably the kindest thing she could say about them. Hopelessly out of date to be sure, but perhaps people liked the kitsch, she thought charitably. Perhaps that was why nothing appeared to have been updated in decades. She lifted her small suitcase onto the bed and went to unzip it, her mind already focusing on how she wanted to arrange her things in the drawers.

“Are we going to talk about what just happened?” Clint asked, making no similar moves toward unpacking.

She felt a spike of anxiety go through her, making her palms sweat. “Clint, until we know for sure what they were talking about, I don’t know if it’s fair to—”

So I super identify with the Brewer family and their apparent willingness to avoid difficult subjects. I was raised the same way, unfortunately. It was an open secret that my uncle was gay, and despite supporting him (somewhat; my mom’s attitudes on homosexuality were ok but not great), my mother never spoke to him about it. Ever. For 50 years. So I understand how Patrick could go more than a year without telling his parents about being gay / about David. And I figure he probably learned that avoidance from his parents.

“It seemed pretty clear what they were talking about, Marcy,” Clint said. “He literally said, ‘a business relationship and a romantic relationship.’ What else could he have meant?”

She dropped the sweater she’d been refolding and met her husband’s eyes. “So Patrick and… and David…”

“I guess so.”

“But if they’re a couple, why wouldn’t Patrick say anything? We aren’t homophobic.” She picked up the sweater again. “Maybe David’s father is confused. Or jumping to conclusions because they spend a lot of time together working at the store.”

Clint squinted at her. “He lives here and probably sees his son all the time. I don’t think he would have said it that way if they weren’t a couple.”

“But Patrick dated Rachel for years!” She paused, thinking it through while she went over and put the sweater in one of the dresser drawers. “I guess he could be bisexual.”

Bisexual erasure, particularly for men, is real. I think about it a lot more now that my own son identifies as bi. So I struggle when I write scenes like this because, on the one hand, no, Patrick doesn’t seem to be bi. We can assume that since David says he’s gay in MTP, that’s probably how Patrick himself identifies, and it’s consistent with him saying he didn’t know before David what right was supposed to feel like. But he could be bi/pan, as far as his parents know at this point, and I don’t want it to seem like I as the author wouldn’t consider that if I had only the info the Brewers have. But also, I figure the Brewers would assume he was gay because that seems more in-line with who they are. And it happens to be true. So I did give Marcy the thought here that, ok, maybe he’s bi. And then had Clint say, maybe, but also he did break up with Rachel a lot and run away. I wrote it similarly in My Heartbeat Shows the Fear.

“That’s possible. Or it’s possible that he was trying very hard not to be gay, and that’s why ultimately things didn’t work out with Rachel. It would explain a lot. They way they kept breaking up. The way he ran away to start a new life somewhere else.” He sat down on the bed.

Marcy shook her head, a hand coming up to her mouth to hold in… she didn’t know what. “No, that’s… surely he would have talked to us if he was feeling that way. And he was happy with Rachel for a long time.”

“Was he?”

Marcy began unpacking more quickly, needing to accomplish a task, needing to move. “Yes, of course he was happy.”

“Not happy enough, though. Maybe he’s happier with David.”

She slumped her shoulders, suddenly exhausted. They’d gotten up before dawn to make this drive and the long hours on the road were taking their toll. “Should we maybe take a nap?”

Marcy does not want to talk about this anymore. Using sleep to avoid things is another thing I do.

Her husband nodded, recognizing the request for what it was — a plea not to talk about this anymore. “Good idea. I don’t think I’m going to be able to stay awake for a party if I don’t have a little rest.”

She put her suitcase aside and took off her shoes and stretched out next to her husband on top of the bedspread. Clint reached out for her hand, and she squeezed his fingers in return.

Marcy thought about the conversations she’d had with David on the phone. The way he talked about the store and the way he talked about Patrick. The way he talked about how smart Patrick was about the business. It hadn’t escaped her notice the way David spoke — the cadence and timbre of his voice, the uptilt of it on certain phrases, his encyclopedic knowledge of skin care products — yes, she’d assumed David was gay when she bothered to think about it at all. She’d mostly just thought that David seemed nice, based on his unfailing politeness with her.

Another tough one, because David isn’t gay, he’s pan. But most people probably assume he’s gay, based on stereotypes, and I figured Marcy would too.

Meanwhile, she’d gotten used to a certain amount of distance from her son. He’d barely spoken to them at all for the first couple of months after he left town, other than to say he was safe and that he needed a fresh start. Then came news of the business he was starting with David, and Patrick had begun to sound excited on the phone, talking about David’s vision for the store. He’d had a lot to say about what a good idea it was that David had, and how skilled he was with vendors and customers. She began to sift her memory of those glowing compliments through this new filter, where maybe her son had romantic feelings for his business partner. It made a certain kind of sense, now that she thought about it. It explained why any mention of Rachel caused him to shut down.

I do like imagining Patrick being unable to keep from bringing the topic of David up, even though he couldn’t bring himself to say they were a couple. Maybe hoping his parents guessed.

It perhaps explained, she realized with a sick feeling in her stomach, why any time she asked if he was dating anyone, he denied it and quickly changed the subject.

She didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, but Marcy did doze off briefly. She awoke after about a half hour to Clint puttering around with the tea kettle. Sitting up, she put her feet on the floor, her stomach still queasy with anxiety.

“So why didn’t he want to tell us?”

“Maybe… maybe they aren’t telling other people at all?” Clint posited.

“Mr. Rose knows. That weird Roland person knows. Both of them assumed we knew!” Then it hit her. “David assumed we knew. Right? If they’re out to people here, and he invited us to Patrick’s party…” She thought again about how warm David always was with her on the phone, taking time out of his day to ask after her health or make small talk with her when she called the store. The way he spoke about Patrick, which she never questioned because of course they knew each other well — they ran a business together. “What do we do now?”

Clint’s eyes widened. “I have no idea.”

There was a knock on the door.

Marcy went over and opened it, revealing Johnny Rose’s worried face and expressive eyebrows on the other side.

“Hi, Marcy. Mind if I come in to chat?”

“Johnny… yes, of course,” she said, widening the opening to admit him.

So this was the seed idea of this fic. In canon, David gets there first and Johnny shortly thereafter. I thought it would be interesting to switch it and see what happened.

He clasped his hands together, eyes darting around the room. “I wanted to apologize to you both for speaking out of turn earlier. And saying… things that I assumed you… but it seems I was, er, that is, that I jumped to conclusions about…”

I enjoy writing Johnny when he’s flustered.

Marcy tried to rescue him. “You assumed we knew that Patrick and David are dating.”

Johnny cleared his throat. “Yes. And I just wanted to say, as a parent myself, that the important thing is that they’re happy. That’s all that matters. Who our kids love doesn’t matter.”

I figured he’d say essentially the same thing he did in canon here. That the important thing was that their kids were happy. 

“Johnny, we don’t have a problem with Patrick being gay.” She looked over at Clint, who shook his head.

“No,” he said in agreement.

Johnny’s whole demeanor changed, his shoulders dropping as he smiled with relief. “Oh! Good, that’s good!”

They all smiled at each other for a second, unsure what to say next.

“Yes, anyway, we love Patrick,” Johnny said, rocking on his heels. “I probably should have said earlier, I was only skeptical about him and David at first. It’s been obvious for a while that they’re good for each other. Patrick’s become like a member of the family.”

I wish we had gotten to see Johnny’s skepticism about juggling a romantic and a business relationship on the show. That does seem in-character for him, and I would have liked to have seen him trying to talk to David about it, about guarding his heart and his parts and his business. I’m sure it would have been a disaster of a conversation but I would have enjoyed it.

“How, um, how long have they been together?” Marcy asked.

“Since not long after the store opened, as I recall.” Johnny said.

Heart pounding, Marcy dropped onto the bed next to where her husband was sitting. “Oh.”

“That’s a long time,” Clint said.

Johnny’s face fell as he probably realized that he’d once again delivered cataclysmic news to Patrick’s parents. It wasn’t just that he’d kept his sexual identity and his relationship with David a secret. He’d kept it a secret for over a year.

Ugh, the timeline. In 5x14, David says “two years ago”. But there seems to have only been one Christmas since they started dating. So I just figure David was severely rounding up when he said 2 years and that it’s really been more like a year and a half at that point, idk. Jeremy Bearimy.

“You know, it can be a hard thing for kids to talk about with their parents,” Johnny said. “Goodness knows David and I haven’t always talked about what was going on in his life.”

Marcy latched onto that. Perhaps she had an expert here, someone who’d been through what they were going through. “Was it hard for David to come out to you and your wife?”

Johnny pulled over one of the chairs and sat down. “Well, it was different with David. Moira assumed he was gay from a fairly young age.” He threw up his hands. “I wasn’t sure, myself, but I figured he’d tell us when he was ready. Then when he was eighteen, he told us he was bisexual. Then later, he amended it to ‘pansexual’.” Marcy looked at Clint and saw that he looked just as confused as she felt. “The labels can be confusing,” Johnny continued, “and I know I said some things I shouldn’t have, at first. Asked him if it wouldn’t be easier if he picked a gender. Which I realize wasn’t… helpful. Or fair of me. I just wanted him to be happy. And he is now! So.” He shrugged, laughing awkwardly.

I tend to just go with the fanon that when David came out as pansexual to his parents, it was probably a surprise to them that he wasn’t gay. 

“But you always knew he wasn’t… straight,” Marcy said, disappointed that the Roses’ experience didn’t really mirror theirs that closely after all.

“Yes, I suppose we did know that. Moira knew, at least. She’s always understood David better than… anyway.” A shadow flitted across his face that looked a lot like guilt. “But I’m not sure it matters when we know. It only matters that we support our kids.”

It’s also fanon that Moira was quicker to support David than Johnny was, but that’s based on the pretty solid evidence of her very firm “It’s not a phase” to Johnny in S1. Not that I think Johnny ever rejected David outright, but he clearly has struggled with David’s identity on some level, based on his convo with Roland in S1.

Marcy nodded. “We do support him, of course we do. Of course we do,” she repeated, a lump rising in her throat. She felt Clint’s hand take hers, and she was afraid to look at him lest she start to cry in earnest.

“The thought that he didn’t think he could talk to us about this,” Clint said.

“When David’s obviously so important to him,” Marcy added.

Johnny looked at them with sympathy, and clearly with no idea what to say.

The shape of their failure as parents was starting to coalesce in her mind. The fact that while they’d never said anything bad about gay people in Patrick’s presence, they’d probably never said anything good either. The fact that ‘girlfriend’ and ‘wife’ were always the words they used when talking to young Patrick about what might happen when he grew up. The way she’d always encouraged him to try to patch things up with Rachel.

So here’s where I struggle with the concept of the Brewers as these lovely, accepting parents, because while I suspect that by 201(whatever year this is in the show), their feelings about queer people are positive, I don’t think they were necessarily that way when Patrick was growing up. I raised my kids with no particular expectations as to the gender of people they might want to date, and I doubt the Brewers were like that. I also think (and I used my own mother as a model for this) that when they talked about tolerance of gay people, it was with an air of “well, it’s not a choice, they can’t help it, so we need to love them.” The thing that communicated to me as a kid was that being gay was gross and icky and on some level, bad. But I’m sure if you’d have asked my mom, she would have patted herself on the back for her acceptance and “tolerance.” But people evolve, and gay marriage has been around now for long enough (especially in Canada) that a lot of minds have changed, and I count the Brewers among that number. They stepped up when they had to, and they were beaming and proud at the wedding. They also could have done things differently and perhaps made Patrick’s journey easier. But then he wouldn’t be with David, so. 

“Is Patrick happy?” she asked Johnny, embarrassed that she didn’t know and that this near-stranger likely did. But she had to ask. She was desperate to know.

Johnny hesitated, perhaps realizing what a complicated question that was to ask about anyone. “He certainly seems happy. But you can ask him yourself tonight, right?”

There was another knock at the door.

Marcy opened it to a tall man with dark hair and Johnny Rose’s expressive eyebrows. He was clutching a gift basket to his chest and looking apprehensive. It could only be one person. “David?” she asked.

“Mrs. Brewer, Mr. Brewer, hi. I’m—”

“David!” his father said, standing. “Come on in. The Brewers and I were just having a nice chat.”

David looked even more apprehensive at that as he shuffled into the room, eyeing his father with suspicion. “Why?”

Marcy took the gift basket from David, letting his hurried explanation about its contents drift by without paying it any attention. “David?” She still felt like she was on the verge of tears, even more so now that she was faced with the man that her son had apparently fallen in love with. “Can I give you a hug?”

[mystical-flute]

Uncharted Waters (chapter 9)

AO3 || Ko-fi

Panic surged through her veins as she burst into the emergency room. She hadn’t managed to get much out of Aunt Kumi over the phone, so she had no idea why Yugi was even here.

“Reika!”

“Téa, Duke, What the hell is going on?” she asked as Téa launched herself into her arms. “Are you okay? Duke?”

“We’re fine,” Duke replied, his face white with fear. “There was a fire… Yugi got caught up in it.”

Reika carefully led Téa back to her seat, then sat down next to her with a frown. “A fire? At school?”

“No, Yugi got swindled by someone pretending to be psychic. He stole the Millennium Puzzle and Yugi chased after him,” Téa explained. “And there was a duel and somehow the warehouse they were in got set on fire. Joey and Tristan said the guy looked like Bandit Keith…”

“Where are Joey and Tristan?”

“They’re being checked over by the doctors. They ran into the fire trying to find Yugi.”

“The doctors said the room was getting crowded, so Téa and I decided to wait out here for you,” Duke explained.

She gave them a weak smile. “Thanks, you two. That means a lot to me.”

“Reika, what have I told you about your posture?”

The new voice had her taking a deep breath and straightening her back as she rose to her feet and forced a smile. “Uncle Takeo. How did you get to Domino so quickly?”

Takeo brushed a piece of fuzz off his suit jacket, then slicked back his hair. “I came back with your grandfather and Kumi. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“I’m sorry the surprise was ruined. It has been quite some time since the five of us were in the same city.” Why weren’t you here when grandpa was in a coma?

“I apologize for that. The government doesn’t run on its own, unfortunately,” Takeo replied, peering around her and looking at the teens. “And you two are?”

“We’re friends of Yugi’s. I’m Téa, and this is Duke.”

“Ah, yes. Yugi mentioned making friends. That’s good. He’ll need them for networking when he becomes an adult and stops with all this dueling nonsense.”

Reika saw Téa’s foot nudge into Duke’s as his hands clenched at Takeo’s words.

If Takeo noticed the sudden tension with the teenagers, he didn’t bother commenting on it, instead turning back to Reika.

“Your grades?”

“Dean’s List.”

Takeo’s brow raised, questioning.

“Academic distinction, Uncle Takeo. I’m surprised grandpa or Aunt Kumi didn’t tell you. I got my grades a few days ago.”

“I’m afraid we were quite busy this weekend. It didn’t come up.”

“Right. Well. Everything is going just as you would hope.”

“I would have hoped to hear that you were transferring to Domino University, or somewhere in Tokyo.”

She couldn't stop herself from laughing. “You’ll never hear that because I don’t want to stay In Japan for school.”

“What about Mr. Kaiba?”

“Long-distance relationships work out all the time.”

“Takeo,” came Grandpa’s voice. “Go sit with Yugi. I’d like a word with Reika if you don’t mind.”

Takeo blinked as if forgetting where they were for a moment. “Yes, father.”

“Mr. Muto, I don’t mean any offense, but your son is kind of an asshole,” Duke said after Takeo disappeared behind the doors to the emergency room.

“Duke!” Téa admonished.

“I’m serious! How did Yugi come from that?”

Grandpa sighed. “I’m afraid Takeo has taken it upon himself to ensure success for the Muto name after Genji disappeared. He was always the more serious of the two. In his heart, he’s doing what he thinks is right, and what he thinks is right for the family… even if that doesn’t always align with the rest of us.”

Reika resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“At any rate, the two of you can go see Joey and Tristan now. The doctors have cleared them for release,” Grandpa said.

“Thanks Mr. Muto!” Téa said, her bright smile back as she and Duke rushed into the emergency room.

Reika exhaled slowly. “What did you want to talk about, Gramps?”

Grandpa led her to a small lounge area. “Your aunt and uncle would like to get to know Seto better. We discussed having a family dinner with him.”

Oh no.

Reika had fought off Marines and bounty hunters. She had trudged through a blizzard and took a sled up a dangerous mountain in an attempt to find a doctor for Nami. She had faced death dozens of times.

But the thing that was making her palms sweat with fear was the thought of Seto Kaiba joining her family for dinner.

All she could think to say was “why?”

“Because he’s… someone you care about,” Grandpa replied. “And he’s been in your life for so long already, and we hardly know anything about him.”

“You just want to make sure he isn’t going to hurt me.”

“You’re my granddaughter, is that not my job?”

I can take care of myself! “I know, I know… I’m sorry, it’s just… Kumi got so angry about me going to the museum with Seto and Takeo suddenly showing up, I just don’t feel like they trust me enough to make decisions for myself.” They shouldn’t.

“If it helps, Mokuba is more than welcome to join him.”

It shouldn’t have made her feel better, but she felt more relaxed at the thought. “This isn’t going to go away until they get their big family dinner, is it?”

“I’m afraid not.”

She sighed. “Fine. I’ll call him. Set something up. How long is Takeo going to be in town?”

“A week. We were going to do it tonight, but with Yugi…”

Her eyebrows shot up. “So this was supposed to be an ambush? Jeez, Gramps!” I should have just stayed in Eturn.

“I was going to warn you before we got the call. Takeo thought that it would be easier to - ”

“Uncle Takeo is an idiot if he thinks he can get the CEO of a multi-billion yen corporation to just - ”

“Reika,” Grandpa’s voice was uncharacteristically firm. “Just call Seto.”

She swallowed back everything else she wanted to say as she pulled out her phone. “Yes, Gramps.”

-----

“Heyyyy Seto.”

Seto was on edge as soon as she drew out the greeting. Reika never did that.

“What is it?” he frowned at the noise in the background, the sound of a cart wheeling by did not go unnoticed. “Where are you?”

“The hospital. Yugi got caught in a fire during a duel at one of the warehouses downtown. Joey and Tristan too, but Yugi got the worst of it.”

He gripped the phone tighter. “Wha - ”

“But that’s not what I called you about.”

Seto’s frown deepened. That wasn’t what he expected. Yugi being in the hospital was probably weighing heavily enough on her mind. What else would trump something like -

“Uncle Takeo is in town. He and Aunt Kumi want to have dinner to get to know you and Mokuba.”

Oh.

A part of him had expected this. Roland and Fuguta had offered advice to him once they’d heard about the relationship. One such piece had been having a good relationship with her family, and considering the rocky start that had gotten off to, a dinner seemed like a logical step.

He heaved out a sigh. “When?”

“Grandpa said they were planning for tonight.”

Seto swore under his breath, prompting a confused look from Mokuba, which he waved away as he glanced at the clock. “Is Yugi going to be discharged tonight?”

“They’re waiting for one last test to come back, but he should be.”

Seto pressed his lips together, taking a slow, deep breath. “Mokuba and I will bring food to the game shop. I can’t imagine your aunt and uncle will have time to cook after Yugi is released from the hospital.”

That prompted an alarmed look from Mokuba.

Reika was silent for a moment. “Are you sure?”

He smirked. “Do I ever second-guess myself?”

He could almost hear her roll her eyes. “No, you don’t. I’ll let them know. How’s seven-thirty sound?”

It was four-thirty now. It wouldn’t give the chefs as much time as they normally would like, but this was out of his hands. “We’ll see you then.”

“What’s going on, Seto?” Mokuba asked as soon as he ended the call.

“We’re going to Reika’s for dinner tonight,” he said, already texting the head chef to alert her to the change of plans.

“Really? So it’s gonna be us, Reika, Yugi, Mr. Muto and Mrs. Muto?”

“And Yugi’s father.”

“Yugi has a dad? What’s he like?”

In truth, Seto couldn’t remember Reika talking about her uncle all that often, except to roll her eyes. “I know he works for the government in Tokyo and doesn’t come here often. That’s about all Reika has mentioned.”

Which probably did not bode well.

“What about Yugi?” Mokuba asked as Seto swept his belongings into his briefcase and switched his computer off.

“He was in a fire at a warehouse while dueling. He will be fine.” He wasn’t entirely sure when Mokuba had decided that he wanted to become friends with Yugi and his ilk, but he supposed it was a good thing, if he were to make a good impression on Reika’s family.

He didn’t particularly care about them, but he would play nice to get them off her back.

“You nervous?” Mokuba asked as they got in the limo.

“Of course not.”

“You’re tapping your knee. You usually only do that when you’re stressed.”

He hadn’t even realized he was doing it, and forced his hand to be still. “I’m fine.”

Mokuba gave him a look, but dropped the subject. “Do you think Reika can play Once Upon a December for us tonight? She’s got a keyboard, doesn’t she?”

“Last I checked. You can ask her when we get there.”

Mokuba smiled. “I think this will be fun, Seto! We never get to eat dinner anywhere other than the Manor or restaurants or boring galas.”

Perhaps that should be something he changed. Was it right for Mokuba to not be able to eat dinner at a friend’s house? But on the other hand, if he did allow that, how could he be sure that Mokuba wouldn’t be poisoned by someone who hated him?

At least this food he would be able to trust, even if they weren’t eating it at home.

Three hours later, they arrived at Kame Games. Mokuba all but bolted out of the car in excitement, while Seto carefully picked up the pot of yakisoba and followed him into the shop. Roland was close behind with the spring rolls as they trudged up the stairs to the apartment, where he could hear low voices and music.

“Reika! We’re here!” Mokuba announced, knocking on the door.

Instead of Reika, a serious-looking man answered the door. If the tri-colored hair was anything to go by, this must have been Takeo Muto.

“Mr. Kaiba. Welcome. Please, come in.”

“You must be Takeo. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Seto said calmly, crossing the threshold and handing the pot to Kumi. “We brought spring rolls and yakisoba.”

“Where would you like them?” Roland asked as Takeo led them into the kitchen. “I’ll just set them down and leave you to your dinner.”

���Oh, nonsense. We have a spare seat for you!” Kumi said with a smile.

Roland stuttered out an agreement, taking a seat at the small table with its mismatched chairs. Only five of them looked like they came from the same set. The other three were folding chairs. The table didn’t have enough space for the eight chairs to fit comfortably, so three - including the one Roland had parked himself in - were at awkwardly placed angles. The dining area led out into the living room, which was stuffed with too-comfortable looking furniture and a TV. Photos decorated the walls and coffee tables.

It was a stark contrast from Kaiba Manor.

“The tea will be ready soon, why don’t you and your brother relax in the living room for a moment?” Kumi suggested.

Seto nodded, his throat suddenly dry as he found space next to Reika and kissed the back of her hand.

“It was really nice of you guys to bring dinner,” Yugi said. He looked exhausted, bandages covering his hands, and one on his cheek.

“Reika said you were in the hospital. How are you feeling?” Mokuba asked.

“I’m tired, but I’m glad to be home,” Yugi said. “I just can’t believe Bandit Keith joined a cult and ambushed me like that.”

Seto raised a brow. “The American duelist from Pegasus’ tournament?”

“Yeah, he tried to steal my puzzle and said he was a part of something called the Rare Hunters.”

So the Rare Hunters were already in Domino, before he’d even announced his tournament. Interesting. Very interesting.

“That’s stupid,” Mokuba said, frowning. “Your puzzle’s just a puzzle.”

Yugi laughed a little. “Yeah, I agree. It is pretty stupid.”

“Our tournament is going to be much better,” Mokuba said with a smirk.

“Mokuba,” Seto said sharply. “We were supposed to give Yugi the invitation first, remember?”

Mokuba reached into his vest and pulled out the invitation. “Oh. Oops. Here you go, Yugi.”

Seto noticed the way Takeo’s jaw twitched at the mention of a tournament, but luckily, Solomon spoke up first.

“Is that what those ‘Duel Disks’ I got this morning are for?”

“It is. I’ll have a demonstration with them tomorrow night,” he explained. “I expect you’ll be there, Yugi.”

“In the plaza, huh? Yeah, of course I’ll be there,” Yugi said with a smile. “Another tournament sounds like fun!”

“Are you sure you want to have one of those? Isn’t Duel Monsters just a silly card game?” Takeo finally found space to say.

Seto felt his jaw clench. Reika’s hand carefully squeezed against his thigh, forcing him to relax just slightly before speaking.

“While Duel Monsters is a card game, these tournaments are a way to keep my company and our technology on the cutting edge of greatness, Takeo,” he explained carefully. “The card game as a whole promotes international relations when politicians fail. It’s a… genius move played by Pegasus.”

He wanted to vomit after saying it, but Takeo’s gaze, while still critical, seemed to soften just slightly.

“Battle City is a way for duelists the world over to come together and celebrate a game we love,” Seto said. “And everyone wants a chance to duel the King of Games.”

God he hated that title. Hated that Yugi was the one to have that title.

“Will this tournament be safer?” Kumi suddenly asked. “I hated that I couldn’t get in touch with Yugi during Duelist Kingdom.”

“Battle City takes place here. Yugi will be able to come home whenever he needs,” Mokuba said with a wide grin, before his eyes moved to Solomon. “And you’ll be able to go watch duels too!”

Solomon’s eyes widened in delight.

“Well, I can’t wait!” Yugi piped up. “And I can’t wait to see what those Duel Disks do, Kaiba.”

“Remember, you can’t open the box until next week,” his eyes glanced over at Solomon, who had soured at the warning. “That’s when the tournament begins. We wouldn’t want to give our champion an unfair advantage, after all.”

“I wouldn’t feel right about having one,” Yugi said, looking at Solomon with uncharacteristically serious eyes.

Kumi cleared her throat. “The tea is ready if everyone wants to wash up for dinner. Here, Yugi, I’ll help you get settled in.”

Mokuba plopped into the seat next to Yugi, Seto next to Reika, and dinner was quiet, the earlier tension having dissipated.

“Reika?” Mokuba suddenly asked.

“Hm?”

“When we’re done with dinner, d’you think you can play Once Upon a December like you promised last time you were at the Manor?”

Solomon, Takeo, and Kumi all froze, but Reika simply shrugged. “Sure, if you help me move the keyboard out here. I keep it in my room.”

Mokuba grinned and nodded in agreement.

“Reika, I thought - ” Kumi began.

“All due respect, Kumi, if this is about Noah, Mokuba and I are aware of him,” Seto said. “Reika told me not long ago.”

“She did? I’m surprised… Gozaburo was so firm about that threat,” Kumi said, before shrugging. “But he’s gone now, so I suppose it makes sense she’d tell you. But still, she vowed never to play that song again after Noah’s accident.”

Seto looked at Reika, raising a brow.

“Anastasia was Noah’s favorite cartoon,” she explained. “We had a waltz set to Once Upon a December. We were supposed to perform it at a gala.”

He hated that his mind was doing it, but he couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened had Noah never died, and he and Mokuba got adopted anyway. Would he still have been a part of the “Young” program Gozaburo had started?

After dinner and dessert, while waiting for Reika and Mokuba to grab the keyboard, Seto picked up a photo that caught his eye.

A young Reika, and two people he could only assume were her parents. They were standing together in front of the shop, which had been decorated for Tanabata.

They wore their traditional yukata, and Seto couldn’t help but smile slightly when he noticed Reika was missing a tooth.

Genji looked almost like a clone of every other Muto man, tri-colored hair and violet eyes. Though, where Yugi and Solomon (and even Takeo, to lesser degree), had their hair in spikes, Genji’s was tied back into a ponytail that hung over his shoulder.

Miaka had wavy red hair, warm brown eyes that sat behind large, round glasses, and a smattering of freckles across her face, much like Reika.

They looked so happy, so normal, and it killed him to think it would all be taken from her.

“That was taken about two months before they disappeared,” Takeo said, the gruff, seriousness of his voice now gone.

Seto put the picture down. “I’m sorry. Is Genji older or younger than you?”

“Four years older. He’s the cool, relaxed older brother, but somehow, he had a brilliant mind for engineering and was a serious hard worker. I couldn’t understand how he could be so relaxed and yet still work so hard at the same time,” Takeo laughed softly.

“You would get along with him, Seto,” Solomon said. “I’m sure of it.”

“Hopefully I will have the chance to meet him,” Seto replied. It had been a decade though, so he knew the chances of that were extraordinarily slim.

“Mokuba, be careful with that,” Reika said softly as the two emerged from the hallway, Mokuba carrying the legs to the keyboard. “Put them in front of the chair.”

Mokuba did so, then plopped down on the couch next to Seto as Reika adjusted the keyboard and stand.

Reika sat at the keyboard like it was the world's most expensive piano, her fingers gliding over the keys as Mutos adults watched with a mix of pride and disbelief, and Yugi grinning like an idiot. Seto smirked as he wrapped an arm around Mokuba and exchanged a glance with Roland, who was giving him an approving smile.

He didn’t know why it felt so damn good.

“I had a lot of fun tonight, Seto!” Mokuba exclaimed when they were back in the safety of the limo. “We should do family dinners with them more often!”

Seto wasn’t quite sure how many of these he could take, so he simply acknowledged Mokuba with a grunt as his phone chirped.

I don’t know how you did it, but you managed to charm the least charming man in Japan.

I charm myself everyday.

Very funny.

For what it’s worth, I had a good conversation with Solomon and Takeo about your father.

Oh?

Yes. Solomon said he would have gotten along with me. I figure that’s the highest compliment you can give someone. Your father sounds like a good man.

You’ll meet him one day. I know it.

Come with me tomorrow to the plaza. I think you’ll enjoy what I have planned.

I’d love to.

The next night, they soared over Domino in his helicopter. He felt anticipation building as Reika stared out the window, taking pictures here and there.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked with a smirk.

A hum. “Is it that obvious?”

“Let’s just say you should never play poker against me.”

Reika rolled her eyes. “You should know that I don’t back down from a challenge, Mr. Kaiba.”

He smirked and kissed the back of her hand. God, he loved this woman.

“Mr. Kaiba, we’re ready for you.”

Seto nodded, grabbing the duel disk and sliding it on his wrist before pushing the door to the helicopter open and dropping onto the ladder below, ignoring Reika’s startled cry of his name.

He could see Yugi with the usual herd, plus Valentine. Good. Everything was going as it should.

“Don’t forget to register and pick up your duel disk. Exactly one week from today, my Battle City Tournament begins!” he shouted over the whirling blades above him.

One week.

One week until he reclaimed his title of the world’s best duelist.