For those of you who will read this multiple times, I apologize. Feel free to ignore this if you've already seen it, and move on to the chapter.
Here in my neck of the woods, it is now the 9th day of February, in the year 2012. Ten years ago today, I came across Fanfiction-dot-Net. I proceeded to publish "Lonely, Broken Hero," the first story I wrote that ever felt complete. It was inspired by a song, written for the Square-Enix game "Chrono Trigger," and marked the beginning of a lifelong passion.
Since February 9th, 2002, I have had the honor of meeting some of the greatest people on earth. These people have given me 5,885 reviews, thousands of Favorites, and over 1.8 million hits across 40 projects. These people have supported me, cheered for me, informed me, criticized me, and helped me embark on some of the most memorable journeys of my life. I never would have made it without them.
To celebrate this illustrious anniversary, and to thank you for being the best audience an author could ever ask for, I have written extra chapters for each of my 8 ongoing projects. I present them to you now, and humble myself before you. Were it not for you, these stories never would have come into being, or lasted nearly as long as they have.
Thank you again. You all have changed my life.
Here's to another decade of adventure and exploration.
Enjoy.
It wasn't necessarily strange that the Brinkley family went to church on Sundays.
It wasn't even all that odd for Mokuba to join them after staying over the previous night. Heck, it wasn't even strange that the Brinkleys went to the same church as the Mutou family. No. The strange part, the part that would make anyone shudder with superstitious apprehension, even fear…
Was the fact that this week, Seto joined them.
Even Mokuba, who had the most cause to remember, couldn't think of the last time his brother had set foot near a church without the expressed intent of visiting an adjacent cemetery. Seto wasn't a normal atheist; he wasn't a passionate atheist, nor an apathetic atheist. He was the sort of atheist who didn't even think of religion as a valid enterprise. It was simply not a part of his mental faculties. He attributed organized religion to the same dislodging that explained street magicians and Twilight fans: juvenile flights of fancy too mundane to comment on.
Mokuba would have said that Seto would sooner enter a beauty salon to have his nails painted than enter a church. At least, he would have said that before this day, when Seto stood in the back behind the pews and watched the pastor with a severe sort of attention that usually made people upon whom it was leveled leave the room in a cold sweat.
When the congregation began reading from the Bible, Mokuba spied a look back at his brother, expecting him to look pained or disgusted. Maybe even to find he'd left. But there Seto stood, eyes still locked ahead, his lips moving as though he were reading right alongside the rest of them, except without the book in hand.
Because, of course, he didn't need it.
Most people thought that Seto thought of the Bible in the same way he thought of alchemy; that was, too archaic and trivial to be worth his time. But while Seto did, indeed, think of alchemy as errant stupidity, apparently he had, in fact, read the Bible.
Most studiously, it turned out.
Seto even joined in when everyone began to sing along with the band. All through "Near the Cross" and "Hosanna in the Highest," and even through "Old Time Religion," which Mokuba thought they'd played as a joke, Seto sang. Though there was no fervency of faith in him, no amount of honest feeling, there was an air of respect. He was not dressed in his most expensive suit, but in a relatively modest one: black slacks, black shirt, black jacket, gold tie. His gaze never wavered, his face never twitched. For all intents and purposes, he was attending a church service.
Afterward, when everyone was picking up their things to leave, Connor said to Mokuba, "I'd have bet my left ear your brother would've waited outside."
"Until a couple hours ago," Mokuba replied, "me too."
Enid and Leonard met Seto by the door, smiling. He shook their hands and exchanged pleasantries. When Leonard asked Seto if he attended regularly, Mokuba received yet another shock to his system and his sensibilities when the response was: "No. I don't feel as though I need to attend weekly services to experience the truth."
What was that?
Seto? Seto Kaiba? Being diplomatic?
Mokuba crossed himself, suddenly looking terrified.
Seto turned a slightly curious expression toward his brother. "Shall we go?" he asked mildly.
"Uh…s-sure?"
Seto smiled, and offered his hand. Mokuba took it, simply because he wasn't sure what else to do. They left toward the parking lot after one last goodbye to the Brinkleys. Mokuba let out a sigh of relief when his brother spoke next, in a halfway normal tone of voice:
"You owe me for that."
A smile returned to the young Kaiba's face, and he replied: "Yes, Niisama."
He began to hum one of the hymns, positively buoyant like always. The world had been set right again, and everything made sense. As they approached Seto's Veyron, though Mokuba spied Yugi with his mother and grandfather, and waved.
The black-haired boy's breath caught in his throat when Yugi turned.
Eyes the color of red wine sparkled with malevolent amusement as a dark, hauntingly familiar smirk rose on the young duelist's lips. As Yugi put up a nonchalant hand in response to the wave, Mokuba thought he heard a deep, velvety voice say, "…You'll be perfect."
It didn't feel like a compliment, so much as a threat.
As he got into the car, Mokuba tried to remember if Yugi had been wearing the Millennium Puzzle the last time they'd seen each other.
Oooh…something's going on.
What is it? What's got Seto going to church? What's got him singing hymns? How does Yugi have the puzzle again? We'll see. This is the doorway into a special place, a new story that I've been working on for a while, at which I've hinted here in the honor of chapter 35. While this project will remain the same as always, I will someday begin posting a second off-shoot of "Paved with Good Intentions." But before I did that, I thought it would be prudent to let you all have a glimpse of it.
So that you can decide whether or not you'll be interested in seeing where it will lead you.
Hope you had fun with this thoroughly odd chapter.
See you next time.
