This mini-arc is turning out to have actual repercussions on the state of "Blue Eyes, Violet Eyes" as a whole. You'll see what I mean as it continues, but I felt it prudent to mention here that this story is officially its own continuity now.

It's a branching off of the original "Good Intentions" story, yes, and borrows its central elements and history. But with how long this one's gone on, I've added a lot of things, little things, that won't be making it into the main story.

This all said, I do think this stuff that's making it in is important, and I dearly hope that those of you reading this will agree with me.


1.


The younger Mokuba offered to go by the name "Mokie" to avoid confusion, which made Kaiba smile privately to himself. Mokie had first suggested that one of them go by "Mo-two-ba," but nobody seemed to find that funny except him, so it was scrapped pretty quickly; though Seto did keep mumbling "tuba" for a while and snickering.

"If we're going to assume that all of this magical nonsense is actually the truth," Mokuba said slowly, as the small group descended the stairs into the Turtle Game Shop's main floor, "then I trust you won't mind if I ask you some questions about this situation."

Kaiba waved a hand in something resembling an invitation.

"Who are these people? This Doma Corporation? What's their angle?"

"What else?" Kaiba asked. "Ruining lives for self-righteous indignation. They're a cult. A secret society. If events unfold here the way they did . . . back home, then we'll have four main figureheads running the show."

"Dartz," Mokie said slowly, "Raphael, Valon, and . . . Amelda."

Kaiba's face turned savage for a moment. "Right. Him."

"How much of this puts my brother in danger?" Mokuba asked.

"I'd love to think that his youth would mean your brother is safe from Amelda's crusade," Kaiba muttered, "but I have less than enough reason to assume he's going to play fair. He, in particular, will have his sights set on you." He looked over at Mokuba. "A child soldier. Blames Gozaburo for the ruination of his country. The death of his family. You, as his heirs, inherit his sins. Amelda will . . . no doubt stop at nothing to see the both of you dead before the month is out."

Mokuba's face betrayed no surprise, no emotion in the slightest. "That's not surprising. Will he be effective?"

Kaiba grunted. ". . . Effective enough."


2.


The entire group was gathered. They were shocked, of course, to see a pair of Kaibas that didn't match the brothers they knew, but there was surprisingly little drama for all that. Mokuba was the only one who had a problem believing it. Everyone else took Yami's word for it.

Kaiba wasn't surprised by that.

"I've brought him here because he has already faced these fiends before," Yami said, which was a lie. "With his help, I have no doubt that we will weather this storm, the same as we've done in the past. I'm sure that we can trust him as we have come to trust our Kaiba."

Mokuba smirked. "Cute," he mumbled.

"The first thing I'll have to do is gauge how much matches up with what I remember." Kaiba looked at Mokuba. "You knew the Doma Corporation. I trust Kaiba-Corp is effectively in shambles."

"That's one way to put it," Mokuba muttered.

"But, you have yet to meet him. Have you been back to Duelist Kingdom?"

Mokuba looked disgusted. ". . . What?!"

Kaiba sent a searching look to his brother's counterpart. "I'll take that as a no. Hnh. Interesting. So he hasn't masqueraded as Crawford yet."

"I should hope not," Mokuba said shortly. "Pegasus Crawford is dead."

Kaiba blinked. Stared.

Mokie sent a surprised look to his older self. "Dead?" he repeated. "Since when?"

"Since two years ago," Mokuba said. "What? He's alive where you're from?"

"He is."

Mokuba's eyes narrowed. He shot a sudden glare at Kaiba. "Why?"

Kaiba shrugged. "The devil's own luck. This . . . isn't good. If he doesn't have that trick up his sleeve, he'll use something else."

"Are you really worried?" Mokie asked.

"No," Kaiba said. "But I don't like surprises, all the same."

Kaiba continued poking and prodding for potentially important information, seeking input from each of the group and weaving a tapestry in his head. Eventually, though, he said, without looking at Mokuba: "What. Is it."

". . . I'm concerned," Mokuba said. "Forgive me, Master Kaiba. But I can't help but wonder at . . . why you would let that man live."

Kaiba grunted. Smirked. It looked like a grimace. "Because, Master Kaiba, I don't make a habit of murder." His blue eyes, blazing and feverish, went as narrow as a blade's edge. "The only thing I have ever set out to kill is my father's legacy." Mokuba flinched as if struck by lightning. "So far, barring one rather catastrophic exception, I have succeeded. I don't intend to break that streak for my own pride."

Mokuba opened his mouth, perhaps to ask what he meant, then stopped.

He actually smiled.

"Sorry. I . . . seem to have misjudged you."

Kaiba shrugged. "It happens a lot."


3.


"Father's legacy?" Seto asked. "What's Papa have to do with this?"

Now it was Kaiba's turn to flinch. Mokie's eyes locked on his brother, as if terrified that something horrific was about to happen. He half-expected his brother to yell obscenities at Noa for building an NPC that would say such a thing. With his voice, and his face. How dare he do such a thing?!

But Kaiba's face schooled itself quickly. "Nothing. Another divergence, I take it." He glanced at Mokuba, tilted his head. Almost winked. "I don't know the measure of your Gozaburo Kaiba. But mine wouldn't have won any awards."

Mokie realized with sudden clarity that his brother was playing a role. He was so deep into the game that he was treating these simulations as he would real people. Little Seto was an actual child. And this older Mokuba was his actual guardian.

Mokie smiled.

"My condolences," Mokuba said, seeming to have caught on to Kaiba's strategy. Best to deflect away from the line of discussion.

Mokie frowned. Did you throw that in just for fun? he asked, projecting his thoughts to the brother he knew was watching, all around them. Or for some other reason? You know Niisama didn't . . . get along with Father.

He expected a sheepish reply from Noa. Maybe even an apology.

He didn't expect nothing.

Noa?

"Sounds rough," Seto said, which seemed to be his way of letting the topic go.

The bell above the shop's front door rang.

Kaiba and Mokuba both whirled. Mokie wondered if the reason his counterpart seemed to have sharper reflexes than his brother had to do with the simulation, or if Noa had done it on purpose.

This thought rolled around in his head until he realized who had come into the shop.

Shaking, pale, dressed in the white uniform he'd worn as a god, was Noa Kaiba.

"Aniue . . ." he said shakily. "W-We're . . . we're in trouble."