Thanks to everyone who gave the first chapter of this new venture a shot. This is new for me. I've never written an AU (divergent) story before, but after so many years I figured it was time to start.

This was one of the first to really catch my interest. If I could remember the story which planted this idea in my head the first time, I would. My apologies, but it's been several years. As it is, I must thank Schwarzd354 for encouraging me to go along with my take on it. Not that it took much encouraging, exactly—I already loved the idea—but . . . well, that's who I'm blaming for this.

Ahem.

Now, then. You can't have one brother without the other. So . . .

1.

Seto stares for a moment, like there's been a glitch in his programming, before he reaches out to shake Pegasus's hand. He says, ". . . Pegasus Crawford?" in a soft sort of voice, and he looks around at the others like he's seeking confirmation that he's heard correctly.

Pegasus Crawford's eyes light up. "Oh. Have you heard of me?" He asks this with honest humility; or, at least, his humility sounds honest, like he would never have even considered the idea that a little boy tucked away in a far corner of Domino City would have heard his name before.

"Here we go," says the servant, rolling his eyes in a friendly sort of way; he truly has let go of his nerves. There is something about this situation—now that he has been directly faced with it—that has calmed him. Perhaps it's the fact that Kristine has informed them of the time frame.

Perhaps Master Crawford isn't prepared for a child now, but in a year? With training and a long approval process under his belt? It's quite possible. At the least, jumping through a few hoops will truly test his willingness.

Pegasus reaches into a pocket and produces his wallet. He flips it open and shows his ID to the boy. "There you have it. In black and white . . . or, color, I suppose. So, tell me, Seto, where is it you've heard my name before?" He glances at Kristine and Dan with a wink. "He doesn't have the sound of someone who's simply incredulous about my first name. Plenty of people have to repeat it to themselves, but not with this particular inflection."

Dan chuckles. "Oh, we all know your name, sir."

Seto stares at the card in Pegasus's wallet, then scrambles to pull something out of his front pocket. Pegasus kneels down as Seto does this, and catches the boy's book almost nonchalantly as it falls forgotten from its owner's grip.

Pegasus flips his wallet back into his hand, pockets it, and hands the book to Dan as he waits for Seto to fish out his prize.

Seto comes back up with a small stack of cards. They're the size of standard playing cards. Each has a small piece of artwork on one side, with miniscule text beneath it and a title atop it. The card-back is a vortex of red, gold, and brown.

Pegasus grins. "My! So my little game is gaining in popularity." Seto holds them up like they're priceless artifacts, and Pegasus kneels down again so that he's eye-level with the boy. "You have excellent taste, Seto."

"Well," Seto says, embarrassed, "I don't actually have enough to play. And . . . even if I did, I don't have enough for anyone to play against me." He bounces back almost immediately, with a happy sort of determination. "I'm going to save up, though!"

Pegasus frowns studiously. "Hmmm . . ." He stands back up and looks at the servant. "Croquet? Could you go to the car and grab something for me?"

The servant, now with a label like his master, bows his head. "Of course, sir." Croquet turns on a heel and walks away; he doesn't need further instruction. He knows exactly what his master intends to do with the rest of his afternoon.

"Um . . . Mister Crawford?" Seto says. Pegasus raises an inquisitive eyebrow. "Why did you come here? Not that I'm complaining, but it's not exactly common. Mostly people forget about this place. Maybe they hand over a dusty old soccer ball at the toy drive in December, but other than that . . ."

"Seto!" Kristine cries, a gentle admonishment that Seto probably doesn't even hear.

Pegasus chuckles. "Well, now. I suppose you have a point. Society seems to think of children as accessories. They attach to their parents, like earrings, and they either make an ensemble or ruin it. And naturally, what is the use of a pair of earrings without an owner to wear them?"

Seto's eyes are flinty, and he nods with a grimness beyond his years.

"But you see," Pegasus says, holding up a finger, "there's a secret to my particular brand of madness. I have always considered children to be people."

Seto blinks again.

Pegasus actually watches the child's mental calculations as he determines whether or not he likes this answer. Theories combine with memories, and they expound upon themselves ten thousand times in the handful of seconds during which this young genius is surprised.

Evidently the final calculations are positive, because a sunny little smile rises on his lips, and he laughs.

Kristine and Dan both stare at Pegasus as if to say, You're a magician.

Pegasus smirks at Kristine and Dan as if to say, I know.

2.

Pegasus is seated at a picnic table, across from Seto, when Croquet returns with a leather briefcase; he sets it on the table without a word. Pegasus smirks sideways at it. He says to the boy, "What would you say to a little wager, Seto?"

"A wager?" Seto repeats slowly. "What kind?"

Pegasus opens the case with the flourish of a game show host, revealing stack upon stack of cards. "Magic & Wizards is a very important project for me," he says, "and I'd very much like to spread it around as much as I possibly can."

Seto is sidetracked, staring at the treasure trove of cards, barely listening. "Uh-huh?"

Pegasus reaches over, spreads Seto's meager selection out on the table, and flips them each over so that they're face-up. "It looks like you're only keeping cards that fit a strategy," he says, gesturing, and Seto finally reverts his mental faculties toward listening. "You're already building a concentrated deck, even though you only have six cards."

Seto looks self-conscious. He shrugs. "That's kind of the whole point . . . isn't it?"

"That would depend. There are three types of customers for a game like this. There's the casual player, who might wait for theme decks to be released, and buy those instead of single packs. A surprisingly under-utilized resource. Then you have the collector, who buys packs to build a complete set, not to play. Then, of course, you have the player, and I think that's the sort you are. You want these cards to play the game, and personally . . . well, I find that to be the most important avenue."

Seto shrugs again. "It's a game. If you're not going to play it, what's the point?"

Pegasus beams at the boy like a proud father. "Precisely. So! Here's what I'm suggesting, dear boy. I want you to look through these. This whole case, here. I want you to build a deck, using whatever strategy you'd like. And then I'm going to challenge you to a duel, right here at this table. If you win—if you win, which won't be easy, then you can keep the deck. Not only that, but I'll build a few decks of my own, and I'll keep them here for other children to play as well."

Seto's eyes are sparkling, and Croquet raises an eyebrow, wondering if the boy might start salivating next.

"What do you say?"

For as smart as he seems to be, Seto is unable to formulate words. He simply nods.

"Well, then!" Pegasus claps his hands together. "I'll leave you to this. Wouldn't want me knowing your plan ahead of time, now, would we? That would be cheating."

3.

By the time Pegasus returns, a second boy has joined Seto on his side of the picnic table. Much younger, and smaller, this boy is sleepy-eyed and dressed in shorts, badly-tied tennis shoes, and a long-sleeved shirt with a medieval knight stamped on the front. Compared to Seto's khaki pants and pale yellow polo shirt, he looks particularly disheveled; especially considering the state of his hair, which somehow resembles a cactus and a kitten at the same time.

He's alternating between staring at Seto, staring at the stacks of cards around Seto, and plucking out single cards from the remaining stacks in the case. He will look at one, frown seriously, then hand the card to Seto with a decisive look on his little face. Seto, for his part, will take each card he is offered, glance at it, and invariably set it aside.

As Pegasus approaches, the black-haired boy waves a card at Seto's face. "Nii'tama! Nii'tama! Look this one!" Seto, obviously paying very little attention and only doing it to placate his tiny companion, looks over. "It's dragon. This one dragon."

Seto smiles. "Yes, it is. See there, Mokie? Right there on top?" He points. "That says 'Baby Dragon.'"

"Bay . . . bee . . . dragon," the other boy says, grinning. He sees Pegasus, thrusts his little arm up to showcase his prize, and cries triumphantly: "Bay-bee dragon!"

"Indeed," Pegasus agrees. "And who's this little warrior?"

Seto smiles dotingly. "This is Mokuba. My brother."

Pegasus smiles as well. He holds out a hand. "Hello, there, Mokuba. My name is Pegasus. Nice to meet you."

Mokuba obviously has very little experience with handshakes. He stares, wide-eyed, then turns to look at his brother. "Pega-huh?"

"Pe-ga-sus," Seto replies, over-enunciating. He takes hold of his brother's hand, brings it over to Pegasus's, and works him through the machinations of an obviously foreign concept.

Pegasus accommodates both boys, and once Mokuba manages to replicate the gesture decently enough, he says, "That's a fine handshake, Mokuba. I'm honored. Say, do you know what your brother is doing right now?"

Mokuba nods enthusiastically. "Prepare for battle!"

Pegasus laughs heartily. "That's right. Well done!"

Mokuba grins again, obviously pleased with himself.

Seto's own smile hasn't left his face; in fact, it widens. This is a rare occurrence, if the looks on Kristine's and Dan's faces are any indication. They've migrated over to the table and are watching from a distance.

Pegasus says, "How are you faring, Seto?"

"Almost done," Seto says, now fully engrossed in the subtle science of deck-building again.

"Very good. I'll leave you to it." Pegasus points to Mokuba. "You be sure to keep an eye out. This is very important. We don't want any interruptions, now, do we?"

"Uh-uh. No rup-shun."

"In-ter-up-tion."

"In a rup-shun."

Pegasus makes his way to the other adults, who gawp at him. He says, "Charming boys, I must say. But for the little one to be orphaned so young . . . tragic. He won't even remember his parents."

"You . . . you . . . how are you doing that?!" Dan seems to be having trouble breathing.

"I don't think I've ever seen that boy smile so much," Kristine offers, more put-together than her compatriot but obviously no less shocked. "Especially when Mokuba's around. He's as dangerous as a mother hawk where his brother's concerned."

Pegasus chuckles. "It's a gift."

"I'll say. Seems like when an adult has something to say that actually interests him, he's downright lovable. Look at him! He looks . . . happy."

The mirth leaves Pegasus's face, and it turns stoic. Almost grim. "The fact that you sound so surprised is . . . troubling. Particularly considering the fact that you two seem to be the only adults in this establishment interested in this particular pair."

"Let's just say," Dan says, "that Seto hasn't made many friends."

"Issues with his peers notwithstanding," Pegasus says, "I didn't realize it was his job to ingratiate himself to his caretakers. Forgive my saying so, but that seems . . . rather backwards. Not to mention pathetic."

Kristine nods seriously. "You're absolutely right."

"I'm finished!" Seto calls out.

"BATTLE!" Mokuba cries, throwing up his hands and sending several cards flying into the air.

"Mokie!" Seto admonishes quietly. "Pick those up! Those aren't ours!"

Looking devastated, Mokuba whimpers: ". . . Sorry, Nii'tama."

"It's okay." Seto ruffles his brother's mass of ebony hair. "Just . . . pick them up."

Pegasus draws in a breath, straightens his jacket, and turns on a heel. "If you'll excuse me," he says, "I have business to attend to."