Chapter Text
“Hey, you got a sec?”
You looked up at your name, pushing aside the articles you were highlighting when you saw whose shaggy head was hovering just inside your office’s door.
“Justin,” you greeted, gently capping the highlighter and placing it gently on the magazine, threading your fingers into your lap as you swiveled to face him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
He swerved his frame into your office, depositing himself comfortably into one of the chairs facing your desk, slinging an arm across the back of it as he perched an ankle on the opposite knee. “Had some things I wanted to bounce off you,” he announced, gesturing unnecessarily with one hand, jiggling his foot so that his sandal bounced with every other word.
“I’m all ears.”
Though Justin was the CEO of the company, he hated the title; he claimed anything with “executive” in the title was pompous and smug, and he much preferred to be referred to as “the ideas guy.” He claimed it made his position sound more neutral and laid back, which was the sort of culture he was trying to cultivate in his new startup gaming application company – after the six months that you had spent as a senior in the marketing department, you could not help but feel that it made his position sound pompous and smug.
He raked a hand through his thick, curly hair, pushing it from his eyes. “So revenue’s been up this quarter because of Farmhand,” he prefaced, referencing the company’s farming simulator – a “gimme game”, as he referred to it, as he wanted a known quantity to get his fledgling company off the ground in the saturated market of Silicon Valley. “Now I want us to come out with something big.”
You inclined your head, leaning back. You knew essentially where this was going, since he had inquired only a couple of months ago about some of the background projects that you had worked on when you were still in college, and had been especially interested to hear that you had worked with a previous First Lady’s office and her endeavors to get children fit. Justin had been enamored with the idea of pairing games with health – from what you knew of him, he had played on some of the more groundbreaking active console games when he was a child, and he hadn’t been able to let the idea go.
“Now,” he continued, “we aren’t gonna be breaking big ground, coming on the heels of You Know What, but I think if we can pair up the same concept with another game that needs a comeback, we can totally boom the market, you know?”
“'Boom the market’,” you parroted, your brow furrowing. “Yeah, totally. Which game were you thinking needs the comeback? Cluedo, maybe? Monopoly?”
Your tone went over his head, and he laughed, waving a hand in the air pleasantly. “Nah, man, Monopoly’s never gone out of style. I’m thinking something overseas.” He landed you with a meaningful look, his smile creeping over his face conspiratorially.
You hated when he did this. Because Justin was a bit of a superstitious man, he didn’t like to use names – he would often use epithets for competitors, “You Know What” being his favorite, allowing the context to speak for him. Most of the time, it wasn’t terribly difficult to figure out: for all his bragging as the “ideas man”, Justin was not a terribly creative one. Generally, whatever had come up in the news on the television in the breakroom within the last few days was what he could be referring to, although sometimes he had eureka moments of true creativity.
You shook your head, smiling at him gently. “You’ll have to help me out.”
His grin widened, and his posture straightened. “You used to play that card game, right? The one – “
“You mean Duel Monsters?” This truly surprised you. To begin, although Duel Monsters had lost its steam in the American market (in a fit of irony, as it was an American game), it had maintained its place in the gaming hierarchy overseas, especially in Japan. Additionally, you couldn’t imagine what had caused him to make the connection – as far as you were aware, nothing monumental had happened that put the game in the media, everything generally status quo. “You want to mix Duel Monsters with Po – “
“Hey now.” He held up a hand, grin still affixed. “No need to jinx it.”
“I mean…” You paused, chewing your lip, glancing at the articles that you had set aside. Many of the magazines and journals were health and fitness related, and you had been tasked with looking for trends within certain age groups in the last decade or so. “Yeah, I played it a long time ago. Probably about ten years? Maybe a little more?”
Justin raised his eyebrows expectantly.
"It isn’t a bad idea,” you ventured, diving right in. “Combining the two. Po – You Know What has already set a lot of the groundwork for how an active, mobile game like that could be laid out. We could adapt and variate pretty easily. And there’s precedent with a few of Duel Monsters’ bigger tournaments – like Duelist Kingdom, and especially Battle City.”
In a show of faux-revelation, Justin put a hand on his chest and leaned forward. “Oh man! Battle City! Wasn’t that that one tournament you were in? You didn’t do half bad, right?”
Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, but unsure why, you paused. “I didn’t make the finals or anything, but no,” you admitted, “I didn’t do half bad.”
“And who did you play against when you were disqualified, again?” he asked, feigning interest.
Realization dawned on you, and you felt the ice beneath your feet become a great deal thinner. “It’s not a bad idea,” you repeated hesitantly. A thought struck you, and you rolled over to rifle through a stack of magazines on the bookshelf beside your desk. “Hang on.”
Finding what you were looking for, a semi-recent, American edition of Duelist Monthly, you flipped through the pages to an article on the history of the Duel Disk. You stood, moving around your desk to hand it to Justin, who took the magazine and glanced through the article, raising his eyebrows at you over his shoulder for elaboration.
“KaibaCorp is celebrating the fifteen-year anniversary of the Duel Disk, which was groundbreaking for its time,” you explained, standing to move closer to him, leaning over his shoulder to point out a couple of key paragraphs. “It really changed the nature of the game, and they’ve been making their advancements in the industry based on this for a long time. But even though it’s still a wildly popular game, it’s sort of…” You paused, considering, tilting your hand back and forth. “Plateaued? It hasn’t really dipped in these fifteen years, but there hasn’t been much growth either. But because the level of popularity has maintained, they don’t really want to risk jeopardizing that.”
Justin’s grin returned, and with it your feeling of discomfort. “Sounds to me like they could use a big idea.”
You had to bite your cheek at the comment, glad that he couldn’t see your face. It was certainly a true statement: KaibaCorp was in need of another breakthrough. Not for lack of trying, as you had been following their developments off and on since you had joined the gaming industry a few years back, but there was no kind way to phrase to your boss how wildly arrogant it was to believe that he had a solution for a foreign multi-million dollar industry.
“It’s worth exploring, certainly,” you agreed instead.
“Great!” Justin rose, tossing the magazine back to you. “I’m glad you agree. We’ll meet with a few others throughout the week, and we’ll get it planned.”
Just like that, you thought weakly as he strode from your office, flashing you the peace sign.
Meetings, by and large, were informal affairs. As was typical of the tech startup environment, many of the people on the team preferred a laid-back culture, and so whenever there was a meeting called you found yourself either arranging tall tables in the corner of a brewery or negotiating with the hostess of a neighborhood gastropub. “To get everyone in the mindset”, Justin had called for his fellow executives, his favorite head developers, and yourself to meet at a trendy sushi bar along the downtown strip.
Arriving early, as you were wont, you scanned the layout, feeling immediate relief as you noticed there was a large table along a back wall, which was mounted with a cushioned, low-to-the-ground bench. You arranged with the hostess to seat the large party, and allowed yourself a pour of chilled sake as you waited. The music wasn’t too loud, so you pulled out the issue of Duelist Monthly and flipped through it idly. You had already read it from cover to cover, and the fifteenth anniversary article more than a few times, so you settled for browsing the pictures, waxing reminiscent about your time as a duelist. You paused over the sketches of the prototype Duel Disk that KaibaCorp had released for the piece, in awe over how much it had evolved into the version you knew.
You turned the page a few times, allowing yourself to smile at some photos of the Battle City tournament. Though you had progressed a decent amount during that tournament, you knew none of these photos featured you – the glamour shots were of the dueling titans of the time: Mutou Yuugi, who had won the whole thing, freshman upstart duelist Malik Ishtar (who, to your knowledge, hadn’t really shown his face afterward – the scandal of the Ghouls being too much weight to bear, you supposed), and Kaiba Seto himself.
You heard your name and glanced up, waving as you saw some members of the executive team weaving their way to the table. Richard Grant, the company’s chief financial officer, had been a classmate of Justin’s, though to your understanding they had not gotten along well until beginning the company together. Richard’s involvement had been largely thanks to the company’s chief legal officer, his fiancée Jennifer Harris, who slid onto the bench beside you with a smile.
Jennifer pointed at your half full glass of sake, and you waved a hand – have at it. As she cheerfully knocked back the remaining liquor in the glass before removing her jacket, Richard seated himself across from her, sliding the open magazine closer to him.
“This him, then?” Richard made eye contact with the arrogant glower of the photograph, raising an eyebrow in consideration.
You hmmmed a confirmation.
“I’ve heard a lot about him, between Jen and Justin,” Richard continued, glancing at the article with some interest. “Guy’s a force.”
The waitress had come back around, bearing a small tray with a large carafe of warm sake and three small ceramic cups. You thanked her, and Jennifer poured for the three of you happily.
After a short toast, you sipped the liquor thoughtfully. “That is probably the best way to describe him. Jen, you know his story, right?”
She slurped her cup down, tossing a lock of hair over her shoulder. Already a gorgeous woman, her face glowed in delight as she set the cup down. “Oh yeah. I had a huge crush on him when I was in college, but even aside of what a fox he is, he’s an impressive man.” She laughed abruptly. “I got into corporate law because I had this silly idea that if I represented a dumb enough company that I’d get to meet him one day.”
Not looking up from the article, her fiancé interrupted, “And then you met me, and you’ve never been happier.”
She batted her dark lashes at him. “You betcha, sweetheart.” She winked at you, and you smiled.
“Ah, wonderful! The team’s all here!”
You leaned over Jennifer to greet Justin and his team of developers. You only knew a couple of them, as they by and large kept to themselves: you allowed Dale, a shy man in his forties, a smile in greeting. He met your eyes and nodded, lowering his gaze, shielded by his battered camouflage baseball cap. Before he could settle himself on your other side, Justin slid into the seat, setting his tablet on the table in front of him and flagging the waitress for another round of sake.
“Now before we get started,” Justin announced when everyone held their ceramic cup in a toast, “I wanna let someone in on a little secret.” He turned to you, his eyes apologetic and his smile very much not. He gestured to Richard and Jennifer, continuing, “We’ve had something like this in mind for a couple months, and we wanted to feel it out. You were the latecomer, but I hope you aren’t too worried about being left out.”
You settled your face into a stiff smile, eyes carefully blank. “Certainly not,” you replied, raising your toast somewhat higher, a silent request to get on with it.
Projecting relief, Justin put a hand over his chest. “Word! Super relieved to hear that, ‘cause you’re a really important asset to this project – you’ve gotta lotta insights with your background, and all, and we don’t wanna alienate you before we’ve had a chance to get off the ground!”
“Justin.” Richard tapped the bottom of his glass on the table, managing not to spill his sake.
“Ah, right! Word.” Justin glanced back over at you, his grin slick and indulgent. “What is it they say in Japan?”
“Kanpai.”
“Right!” He raised his glass. “Let’s get this show on the road! Kanpai!”