Adulthood can bite me.

I'm emotionally exhausted roughly 78% of the time, and my ability to focus on writing in any decent capacity is ... not good. I need to figure out some trick to that.

Kick my ADD into submission or something.

It's been a year, basically, and suffice to say ... I'm not sure how well I managed to force 2018 to work for me. But, I suppose that's enough whining for now. Life in general is pretty good right now.

Now let's see if I can't use that to my advantage this time around.

1.

Mokuba saw to the children while Kaiba went to work on the creature. They all seemed none the worse for wear, aside from the fact that their ears were likely still ringing from gunfire. Noa seemed distracted, Mokie angry, and Seto . . . well. Seto was a great number of things.

"You did good, little man," Mokuba said, smiling as he ruffled his brother's hair. Seto didn't respond with words, electing instead to just press himself against Mokuba's side in a wordless request for a hug. Mokuba obliged him. As Seto hid his face against his brother's side, Mokuba turned his attention to his own young counterpart. "What did he say he wanted?"

Mokie shrugged. "Same old, same old." He twisted his face around. "'I'm here to take you to your father,'" he said, mimicking Daimon's signature whispering lilt. Seto flinched, causing Mokie to wince. "Sorry. Um. I'm not sure if he's Alister or somebody else. They're all pretty good at this stuff. They've been planning . . . whatever it is they're doing for a long time. The magic they use is all bent toward that. So. Who knows."

Mokuba grunted, and chewed on his bottom lip as he absently rubbed his brother's back. He turned his attention to Kaiba, who was standing over Daimon like an ancient judge.

". . . possible," Daimon was whispering through clenched teeth. "You're lying!"

Kaiba's soft little laugh sounded disarmingly pleasant, and a superstitious shiver shot down Mokuba's spine. "Are you honestly going to say that to me? That's your argument?" Kaiba leaned down and sat on his heels, dangling his hands between his knees. "You just used a trading card to make another trading card explode into shards of light. There are dragons circling our commercial district. This morning a demon with six arms ripped a train in half. And you're going to argue with me on the basis of what is and isn't possible."

Mokie's face scrunched up in discomfort or annoyance, and he pulled something out of his ears; Mokuba quickly realized that they were earplugs. Seeing his counterpart's sudden attention, Mokie smiled self-consciously. "Niisama got me these when he decided I needed to learn how to use a gun. They're molded to fit my ears. And they're noise-canceling!" He showed Mokuba a little remote dongle, delicately tweezed between two fingers. "I'm still not used to wearing them for long. Niisama says I should work on that. But. I dunno."

Mokuba chuckled. "He's thought of everything."

"Pretty much, yeah."

A sudden loud crunch, followed by a yowl of pain, caused all eyes to turn back to Kaiba and Daimon. The former held the latter by the hand, bent at the wrist in an unnatural angle.

Kaiba's face, far from pleasant now, was as unmoving as an ice statue.

"You seem to think you're playing this game at a level to which I cannot rise," Kaiba murmured. His hand twisted, and Daimon—wholly unable to resist—flopped onto his back to keep his shoulder from dislocating; he growled futilely as he struggled to keep his whimpering behind his teeth.

Mokuba felt something icy wrap around his heart.

". . . You really are his son, aren't you."

Mokie's eyes were searching. Distant. Cloudy.

"He hasn't really started yet," said the boy who was so familiar, yet so foreign. Another crunch, another howl, and Mokie didn't flinch. "He's still being nice."

2.

The fact that Yugi and Joey were both gone by the time Mokuba led the three children back to the parlor was, perhaps, the least surprising event of the past few months. He glanced at Isono with a questioning look, and Isono responded with an exasperated shrug. This was enough, for the most part. Mokuba rolled his eyes.

Téa, who remained, spoke up: "What happened? Where's . . . um. The other Seto?"

Mokie eyed Téa suspiciously for a moment, before turning his attention to Seto and seeming to calm himself down. Mokuba unconsciously rested a hand on his brother's head for a moment. "He's . . . ah . . . cleaning up."

Tristan's eyes narrowed. "Uh-huh. Cleaning up. I'm guessin' you guys weren't setting off fireworks out there. Especially considering Shades McGee over here pulled his gun and yelled at us to get on the floor." He gestured to Isono.

"They've infiltrated the grounds," Mokuba said, more to Isono than to Tristan. Isono, for his part, looked stricken. "The situation is handled for the moment, but we'll want the rest of your team to sweep the property and make sure. They've got tricks, but they're not invulnerable."

Isono nodded. "At once, Master Kaiba."

Before long, Kaiba came striding back into the room. His hands were wet, and he was drying them with a hand towel. Behind him, a man wrapped in a black cloak came shuffling into the room, nursing a hand of his own. He was taller than Daimon, lanky and bent over, eyes wide and flitting every which way as if he hoped to find some kind of escape. The man's hair was like an untamed mop tossed atop his head, a messy blondish brown, cut haphazardly at his shoulders.

Mokuba frowned. "I take it this is what you were talking about when you talked about masters of disguise?" he asked.

Kaiba grunted. "The wonders of magic."

"Is this Alister?"

"No." Kaiba glanced at the scraggly man. "Alister is his . . . commanding officer."

Mokuba rested a hand on his own sidearm. "And what is your name, then? Soldier of Alister?"

The scraggly man flinched, drew in a heavy breath through clenched teeth, and whispered: "I am Brother Mills." He gathered himself up and tried to stand proud. Whenever his eyes found Kaiba, however, the hunch returned and he seemed to unconsciously fold inside himself in an attempt to disappear.

Mokie, Noa, and Seto came into the room next. They gave Mills a wide berth as they made for the couch and sat down. They looked grim, as though this were a funeral procession. For the most part, they seemed to be following Mokie's lead. Every so often, Seto would glance over at Mokuba.

Noa, for his part, would look at Kaiba on occasion.

Mokie, however, kept his gaze straight ahead, staring at nothing. Mokuba fancied himself a good judge of character, and he could read people fairly well, but he couldn't for the life of him work out what his young counterpart might be thinking.

He put these thoughts out of his head with some effort.

There was information that he needed.

It was time to get to work.

3.

"Magic can go piss up a river," Seto grumbled, glaring at the wall.

They were in his bedroom, each having chosen a specific place to keep their vigil. Seto sat on his bed; Noa, on the computer chair; Mokie, cross-legged on the floor. Music—playing at a very reasonable level, at Mokuba's insistence, "just in case; we're on alert mode, kiddo"—filled the room.

Mokie sputtered with sudden laughter, causing Seto to blink in surprise.

Noa was smiling. "That's a new one," he said. "I don't think I've ever heard it put like that before."

Seto shrugged self-consciously. "Moku-nii says it sometimes." He paused. "Usually about Yugi."

"Which Yugi?" Mokie asked.

"The scary one."

". . . Yeah. That checks out."

There was a moment of silence, as the three boys commiserated silently on the ineptitude and overall uselessness of magic. After which Seto perked up and said, suddenly: "How did your brother do that thing?" He put on a facsimile of his elder counterpart's glare and held out his hand. "What can you do?" The boy's face broke into a beaming grin. "That was awesome!"

Mokie seemed to mull on this for a moment. Then he shrugged. "I don't know. Could be he's got magic of his own. There's been weirder things."

"I'd say it was a hologram," Noa put in, "except for the part where the tree set on fire."

Mokie nodded. "Yeah. Niisama keeps projectors around, stuff he can put on his wrists, for when he wants to make presentations and stuff. But. I'm pretty sure he can't just make fire with them."

Seto was eyeing a dueling deck on his desk, which he eventually picked up and began to look through. He eventually picked up a card and thrust it up into the air. "Ha!"

Noa smiled. "Must be malfunctioning," he said.

"Might not want to try setting magic off in your room," Mokie offered.

Seto flipped the card over, revealing the Baby Dragon monster. "I didn't think he would cause much trouble."

Mokie smiled dotingly. "Fair enough. I guess not." His eyes seemed to glisten all of a sudden. "Then again, baby dragons can still get up to plenty of mischief."