Work Text:
1.
A bang as the front door hit the wall with an opening slam, and then, "Look! Dad, look!"
Seto was back from soccer - startling his father enough that the man had to check that he hadn't sliced into a finger as well as a carrot. The arrival had his mind speeding through a list - how far along the dinner preparations were, when his wife would come in with Mokuba, whether the vigour in Seto's voice was a sign of injury (and his nerve-wracking tendency to shrug it off), happiness, or anger - and then he called, "Welcome home, my boy!"
Seto tumbled around the dividing wall and into the kitchen so fast that he hit the table ... and he was all smiles. What a relief. The match had gone well, then, and the rest of the day wouldn't be given over to scowling and slamming doors.
A certified genius, Seto preferred to prove it by winning every card or board game he played; like a counterbalance, his body was far behind his mind. Physical games were somewhat beyond him in strength and coordination, though his reflexes were good. But Seto refused to admit that he could be beaten. He'd joined the soccer team the day school began - and, the headmaster had informed him with concern, athletics, baseball, and swimming too. It had taken days of negotiation to work Seto down to one sport.
"Manofthematch!" Seto rushed out through his panting.
"Huh?"
"Man of the match, I was named man of the match! Coach said I played well, and my overall improvement is something to be proud of!" Seto's triumph turned to sullenness, and he glared off to the side. "Even if we didn't win."
His father gaped - since when had Seto started taking losses well? "I-is that so?" He got himself together and ruffled Seto's hair in commiseration, and there was the pleasant surprise of a smile as Seto dodged.
"Coach said it's good to have experience," Seto said, and then, in a tone that indicated that this was his own thoughts on the subject, "And we'll win the next one!"
"And soon you'll be as tall and strong like me, right? Then they won't be able to stop you."
"We'll win before then," Seto said with indignant horror, and his father laughed.
2.
"This is my colleague from America, Seto," Aunt Hiroe said, urging him forwards with an arm around his shoulders. "Show him how well you speak English!"
Seto's mouth remained a tight line. "He's shy," Hiroe told her colleague over Seto's head, "so we prepared a game to help him demonstrate. It's one of those English games you told me about! Seto likes games, don't you?"
She looked at Seto from above, smiling. It was weird, because Aunt Hiroe never smiled at him and Mokuba. She normally didn't bother to look at them. That was why Mokuba had been told to sit down and shut up in their shared bedroom. If Mokuba were the 'genius', he would be the one playing the trained monkey.
"OK, Seto!" Hiroe said, voice jolly. "We'll start. I spy with my eye ... something beginning with T!"
Table. That was what they'd practised. She didn't want him to mess up in front of her colleague. The guy was supposed to think Hiroe rich and cultured, and as kind as her nephew was clever.
"Thief," Seto said, looking Hiroe in the eye.
Hiroe's face went weird, so strained it could have split. It looked like ... she didn't want to show any panic, he was pretty sure, and Seto smiled ever so slightly. He knew about all the money his dad had left for him and Mokuba, and about how fast Hiroe had made it disappear.
"I thought you'd choose a tricky word like that," Seto said. "Did I guess right?"
"No," Hiroe said, very much not jolly. "'Table'. I think that the game is over, now."
3.
The brat's eyes were ringed with bruised-looking skin like he'd been punched in both eyes. Gozaburo leaned forwards in his chair and saw that there was no swelling - ah, the discolouration was from lack of sleep.
"Good to see you've been studying. Now you have to absorb that information faster, so you don't look like a panda."
Seto didn't look up. It was strange not to see his cocky looks, and Gozaburo considered for a minute. He'd called the boy to his study to discuss the designs he was doing for KaibaCorp, but...
Gozaburo decided to indulge his curiosity. It could serve a purpose.
"Let's play a game." Again, Seto didn't look up, but he did sway slightly where he stood in front of Gozaburo's desk.
Gozaburo looked to the ornate chess set displayed on a side table by the window. He changed his mind and went for the cupboard that held the drinks and the games, one of many tools for making business meetings go his way.
"Poker!" Gozaburo announced. The brat flinched at the loudness, blinking hard. It didn't look like he was up to doing much more than that, but this kid knew all about games. Gozaburo had to take new ones off him every other afternoon. Poker ought to be - well, child's play.
Gozaburo dealt. "Sit down. Do you know the rules?"
"Yes."
Seto hesitated for a split second before he picked up his cards; it could easily be dismissed as tiredness. After that moment, Seto played surely and efficiently, and he lost in no time at all.
Gozaburo wanted to light a cigar, lean back, and bask in satisfaction: He'd cowed the boy. Instead—
"You don't play games that way! Outrageous. You can't win by losing!" Gozaburo leaned over the desk to thrust his face into Seto's and the boy shoved himself back in his chair, fearful, and it was his luck that he'd taken himself out of throttling range. "Don't dare think you can appease me by giving me a win. You better try and win the game in front of you. Because the person you're trying to play a mind game against might just know it."
Seto was cringing in a corner of the chair, but it was admirable that he made no protest that the loss had been real. He knew to stop pushing - clever, clever little brat.
Naturally, Gozaburo punished him, and his little opponent swayed again, even sitting down, as he was told about the work to be added to his load. Gozaburo sat in his study for a long time after sending Seto off, lighting a cigar and chewing it till the butt disintegrated in his mouth.
So Seto was still trying to beat him - but if he hadn't tried to do it the wrong way, how would Seto have fared at the poker game? Gozaburo was good at that game, after years of making bets with fellow businessmen, and yet - it was still a question.
Gozaburo spit the remnants of tobacco on to carpet for the cleaners to take care of, and left the study with a smile. There were years of games to play with the brat, and Kaiba Gozaburo was going to win.
4.
Mokuba nearly collided with his brother in the hallway, in the state of excitement where no force could stop him. "Look!" He thrust the pack of cards into Kaiba's face. "Check it out!"
"For me?" Kaiba said, smiling. He had to stop himself from glancing around to make sure none of the staff could overhear. Spying maids were gone along with Gozaburo; he and Mokuba could play games in as public a space as they liked.
"No, it's mine!" Mokuba said, grin so wide it looked like it might pop off his face.
Kaiba stared. "Yours?"
"Yeah! It's a great deck. I put it together myself. There's a lot of strategy here! Let me show you..." He got a wicked expression on his face. "I challenge you!"
The silence stretched. Mokuba looked back in bewilderment. It was, of course, bizarre for the challenge not to work its magic and become something to take all of Seto's time for the immediate future.
"No," Kaiba said, and turned sharply around, walking down the hallway with long strides. He realised that he was going back the way he'd come, but didn't turn around.
A loss! He could practically hear Gozaburo thundering the words in condemnation. Refusing a challenge was a weakness equal to losing outright, and it grated something essential in Kaiba.
But if he played Mokuba ... when Mokuba lost--
Kaiba remembered Gozaburo's laughter and the crash of splintering glass.
He forwarded Mokuba an e-mail about the new Capsule Monsters game. It was natural for a Kaiba to want to be a champion, but each game could only have one.
5.
The discussion in the sitting room had turned to business, with the adults arguing more or less amiably about viable directions for KaibaCorp to take in the future. Kaiba's attention kept veering towards the discussion, which was both more interesting and more challenging than the game he was playing. This wasn't one of those life or death games, after all.
It was a complete surprise when his opponent said, "Checkmate!"
Kaiba whipped his head around to look at the chessboard, then looked up at Mokuba and Jun. They were staring at him and their son, eyes wide and mouths slack. They were probably unsure what was less likely: Seto Kaiba being so distracted that he lost to a little boy, or Seto Kaiba throwing a game to let his nephew win.
Then Kaiba couldn't think of them anymore - he only saw an image that entered his mind in a flash: Battle Ox bearing down on him, Saggi the Dark Clown a striped, sneering blur closing in from the left, and beyond them more teeth, claws and pain in the dark.
The old, old nightmare from before Death-T, from the first game he'd lost to Yuugi. The memory lasted for only a second.
"Wow!" Jun's voice was too loud and close, the sound of it like the colours seen after a blow to the head. "You beat Uncle Seto - you're so clever!"
She was holding up her hand for a high-five, but her son wasn't looking at her. "Uncle?" he said, eyes wide. He was something of an oddity in the family - sensitive enough to others' emotions to see that something was wrong.
Seto looked back at his brother's child. There were many things that he remembered in that moment, aside from the always familiar nightmare. He had lost, again and again.
There was more to remember. Years of wins among and even beyond his biggest losses; beyond losses and wins, simply life.
Kaiba Seto could smile, and he could say, "Well played."