Disclaimer: Just own the words, not the folks.

This story is the first in a series I have in mind with characters from different fandoms in stories relating to a certain religions. It was originally supposed to be a one shot, but the characters had other ideas. (There's also a sequel swirling in my head.) Though Catholicism is the referenced branch of Christianity here, I will say that I am not fully versed in its workings and have used some of my knowledge of Methodism and poetic liscence to fill in where there were holes. If you are offended by this story, I apologize. No slight or slander is intended.

Unum - Part A

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been two days since my last confession."

He recognizes the voice. Anzu Mazaki. Poor girl. She came almost daily to confess "feeling inappropriately" about her High School English teacher, Yugi Mutou. The shy 23-year-old had also graced his confessional several times, stating his "inappropriate feelings" for the 18-year-old senior as the reason.

He sighs to himself, not for the first time wondering what he was doing here. One of the youngest priests ever to have his own parish, at 25, Seto Kaiba had already garnered a reputation for being fair and open-minded while still zealous in his devotion to God. He was also known for his powerful temper, which he only unleashed upon those truly deserving.

Those three would-be rapists from a month ago are still nursing bruises and broken bones. Not only did they rob and attempt to rape Shizuka Jonouchi, his 17-year-old blind parishioner with the voice of an angel, but they also did it right behind the church! Had that little nerd Haga and his dinosaur-loving sidekick not pulled him away, he's certain he'd have killed them.

Truthfully, that incident helped foster his growing concerns about his life's choices. His devotion to God is true, but should he really be doing this? Is he really priest material? The only reason he'd joined the priesthood in the first place was as part of his scheme to get his brother away from his sick stepfather. He suppresses a shudder at the memory of the man. Thank God he was able to get himself and Mokuba away from him. Though he never actually touched Mokuba, Seto knew it would only be a matter of time, which is why they ran away. At fourteen, he'd socked away enough money stolen from hacking into that bastard's accounts to hop a plane with his six year old little brother and fly to America.

They landed in San Francisco, CA and Seto decided that they'd stay there for a while until he figured the next course of action. The first person who'd helped them was a nice older man who found them a place to stay in a shelter run by his church. Over the course of several months, Seto began to look upon the kindly Simon as the father he never had. The devoted Catholic eventually moved the two brothers into his home, adopting them in his heart even though he couldn't legally adopt them until they'd been abandoned for at least another year. Simon had no children of his own. His only love had died giving birth to their son almost thirty years prior to meeting Seto and he'd never re-married.

All was well until a few months before Seto's 16th birthday. The boy's stepfather, Gozoboro Kaiba, found them. Legally, Simon had no standing to keep the boys and they were both too young and without proper grounds to claim political asylum. Simon's church put up the money to help him fight the powerful Japanese businessman for custody, though all knew he had no leg to stand on in his quest. Nearly a year and several court dates passed. Just as all looked hopeless after a final ruling in Gozoboro's favor, Seto played his 'ace in the hole'.

While Gozoboro had been fighting for the right to take his stepsons back to Japan, Seto turned 16 and could apply for emancipated minor status. He successfully proved to the judge hearing the case that he'd be capable living on his own given his exceptional grades in high school and the permanent job he'd acquired with the Archdiocese of San Francisco as a computer programmer. He assured the judge that he'd be able to take care of Mokuba permanently once he graduated from high school and until that time, Mokuba could stay with Simon. The judge granted him emancipation, but not guardianship.

Mokuba would have to go back with Gozoboro.

After they left, Seto nearly self-destructed. He couldn't stand the thought of his beloved little brother at the mercy of that pedophile. After several days of prayer, consideration of all legal options, and a few not so legal ones, he concluded that the only way to get his brother back would be if he could be declared an adult. So, the almost 17-year-old joined the priesthood. Simon had been delighted because he thought Seto's only motivation was to be closer to God. While a factor, it wasn't the deciding one.

Once in, he'd legally become an adult and could apply for guardianship of his little brother. Seto knew that, as a poor priest, his argument that he'd be a better guardian for Mokuba than his extremely wealthy stepfather wouldn't hold water without something more to back it up. He'd been too ashamed to use it as leverage when seeking guardianship before, but brought it out for the second battle for Mokuba.

He'd taped it. Taped over two-dozen instances of Gozoboro molesting him, which included the two incidents of intercourse where he'd sobbed for the man to stop. The tapes were originally to be used as leverage in case he lost in his own attempts to get away. He'd thought about using them the first time to get Mokuba, but couldn't stand the thought of his brother knowing all he'd endured to keep him safe.

He'd never spoken to Simon about the abuse. Once they were in their hotel room in Japan, he spilled it all to the horrified man. He told him the truth that he had no papers for picking up Mokuba, telling him that his only leverage was the tapes, copies of which he'd burned to two sets of DVD's, one for Gozoboro and one as back-up in case Gozoboro destroyed the first set. He and Simon prayed sincerely for a resolution in their favor before finally falling into fitful slumbers.

Thankfully, Gozoboro quickly backed down once he saw the clear image of his hand in then 13-year-old Seto's pants on the first disk, and signed the papers Seto had drawn up assigning Seto legal guardianship of Mokuba in both Japan and America. Though Mokuba had been back in Japan for almost six months, Seto was relieved that Gozoboro hadn't tried anything. He and Simon packed up Mokuba and went back to their new home. Seto devoted himself even more to the priesthood, feeling that God had indeed answered his prayers and he was now obligated to put forth his best efforts in becoming his servant.

"…and I don't know what to do," Anzu finishes with her usual sob, pulling him back to the here and now.

Enough was enough. He'd given her the last 'Hail Mary' and 'Our Father' he was ever going to give.

"Miss Mazaki," he begins serenely, "is it possible that Mr. Mutou could have feelings for you as well?"

Well, he's not betraying a confession exactly.

"W-what?" she stutters.

"Certainly now that you're an adult and will be graduated from that high school in a few months, perhaps you could make your feelings known. Maybe things aren't as hopeless as they seem," he concludes in that same serene tone.

There is a long silence before she responds with quiet determination.

"Thank you, Father. I will consider your council. God Bless you."

He hears her leave and smiles to himself. Somehow, he's sure he'll be performing a wedding ceremony within the year.

That is, if he's still a priest.

He puts his face in his hands and sighs. This has got to stop. He made his choice. He'll live with it. But that assertion does more to unravel him than assure him.

'Live with it?' He shouldn't have to 'live with it'. If he doesn't believe, if he's not completely devoted, then what's he doing here? Is he living a lie?

The sound of someone entering the confessional silences his thoughts. Whatever he decides, he's here now and he can't allow himself to drift on another parishioner like he drifted on poor Anzu.

Several minutes pass, but the person in the adjoining booth doesn't speak. Seto can see someone's there, but he won't press him or her. Confession should always be voluntary or it's worthless.

"Um…excuse me," the strong male voice begins, "but I've never been here before. So I don't know what to do."

"Usually, one starts with 'Bless me Father, for I have sinned' and then they proceed to tell me how long it had been since their last confession. Then they disclose whatever they feel is sinful that they've done. But that's only for Catholics; you don't have to be that formal if you don't want to. I'll still listen and hold your confidence."

He almost hears the smirk crossing the confessor's face.

"Is it that obvious that I'm not Catholic?"

"Even my three-year-old parishioners know what a confessional is for," he quips, surprised by his own flippancy. He hopes it doesn't scare the other away.

Rich laughter echoes from behind the partition before the other speaks again.

"Well, since I've never done this before, I guess it's been twenty-two years since my last confession."

"Okay."

"Do you need to know my name?"

"Only if you want to give it."

"I will, if you tell me yours."

"Well, traditionally, the priest remains anonymous initially, to keep the parishioner from feeling uncomfortable."

He sees the figure shrug.

"That's alright. I'm not a parishioner. I'm Yami Atemu."

"Seto Kaiba. What can I do for you Mr. Atemu?"

"It's just Yami. And I just really wanted to talk to someone. I just moved here from Japan and don't know anybody. I was walking by and the church was open. I saw the confessional and thought 'why not', but after I got in here I felt weird since I'm not Catholic."

"Your English is very good for someone new to America."

"I would hope so, since it was my major."

"I see. Well, do you have anything you've done that you feel bad about?"

"I left my wife, Rebecca, six months ago. She's still in Japan. I'm sure she's still mad at me. I didn't mean to hurt her, but I just couldn't stand it anymore."

"Couldn't stand what?"

"Living the lie."

'Living the lie.' Just what he'd been contemplating, living a lie. And here sat a stranger with the courage to just run, unlike him. But he couldn't run. Mokuba and Simon would be so disappointed.

"You still there?" Yami calls. Seto can see that he's pressed his face to the concealing partition.

"Yes," Seto answers calmly, "I'm still here."

"So, who do you confess to," he inquires.

"Pardon?"

"Who do you tell all your dirty little secrets to, Seto?"

Seto laughs to cover the slight nervousness that question causes.

"No one. I don't have dirty little secrets." Truly, he didn't. After saving his brother, he'd devoted himself to living well and taking care of others. Well, except for those three thugs. And maybe his wanting to leave the priesthood was a 'dirty little secret'.

Wait. Wanting to leave? When did he decide he wanted to leave?

"Of course you do," Yami scoffs, interrupting his spiraling thoughts. "Everybody does. You can tell me if you want. I'll keep your secret."

"Thank you, but there's nothing to keep," Seto replies evenly.

"If you say so."

"What 'lie' did you think you were living," the priest interjects, returning to the original subject and hoping the other doesn't notice the slight desperation in his voice.

There is a pause.

"I'm gay," he offers.

"Well, you're certainly in the right city," Seto quips, again surprised by his flippancy.

"I know," Yami smiles, "That's kind of why I'm here."

"Freedom?"

"Freedom."

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

"No, I guess that's it for now. But I'll be back."

"Fine."

"Bye, Seto."

"Bye, Yami."

The confessional door opens and closes.

Seto sits there for a while longer, but Yami becomes the last person for the day.