Swiftshipping- Ishizu Ishtar x Katsuya Jounouchi

Okay, somehow I'm still in the contest (Final Three! *Runs around babbling nonsensically*) and with this one I decided to go into serious angst. Which is weird, and completely contrasting with the fic from last round. But it still ends on a fluffy note; why, I don't know. (Basically, before you all read this you need to know that I genuinelly don't know what's up with my mind. I've clearly gone from mildly crazy, to full-blown insane.) Oh, the randomness...

And yes, before anyone asks, Malik is four years younger than Ishizu. I did my research! :)

Hope you enjoy!


There was a boy. A little boy, barely more than a toddler. And there was a feeling of love, of such great attachment that all Ishizu wanted to do was to hold him to her and never let him go. He was crying. A man turned away from him in disgust and Ishizu ran to the boy to comfort him. But Rishid got there first, and Ishizu couldn't help the pang of jealousy that pierced her heart for a second as she saw the little boy's tearstained face break into a smile at the sight of her older brother's face.

There was a boy. He was older, and the look on his face was terrifying. It was a twist of hatred, of pure unadulterated evil. He held out the golden rod, with savage delight glowing in his eyes, and Ishizu watched as the figure of a man (her father?) fell to his knees, eyes dull and lifeless. All Ishizu could feel was horror and fear as she stared at the wild haired boy, it was clouding her vision, she was drowning in it, she felt like she had lost something, something terribly important, and she was so scared that it was gone forever…

There was a boy, or maybe a teenager, brilliantly coloured hair spiked up in all different directions, smiling at his taller friend as she laughingly chattered on. Yet his eyes were ancient, and, strangely at odds with his cheerful grin; sad, so sad. And somehow Ishizu felt hopeful as she stepped forward to talk to him. A blinding, desperate hope, like this boy could solve all of her problems. He was what she had been waiting for all these years

There was a boy. Arrogant and rude, but key to her plans. She needed him. She needed him to help her, so badly that all she could feel was desperation. But there was cunning mixed in with the desperation- she could bribe him, she could tempt him so easily, she could get what she wanted oh-so-easily. And then it all had to work out, everything would be alright.

There was a boy, again with eyes that did not belong to him, or his time. Worry flooded Ishizu as she thought of him, what if this Thief got in the way? Would he be victorious…Or would the demon destroy him as well as the innocent boy he lived in? Then anger surged through her at the thought of how she couldn't save everyone, and how she must concentrate on the one she loved, that little boy…

And suddenly everything was a whirl of voices, sounds, pictures, colours…

Motorbikes, cards, golden Items, tears, blood, faces, fire, screaming, blood, tears, fire, screaming.

All was darkness and blood and screaming.

And the screaming went on and on and on, and she was begging for it to stop, but it wouldn't…

There was a boy. Just a face, maybe just even a smile. And unlike with every other face, Ishizu felt nothing, nothing except a sense of peace.

The screaming had stopped.


When she was four years old, Ishizu Ishtar had a dream.

It was a strange, muddled up dream, one that most children would dismiss, before turning over and going back to sleep. Or maybe run crying to their parent's bedroom about a nightmare, to be hushed and cuddled and lulled back to sleep. Ishizu, on the other hand, had always believed in the importance of dreams- that they could tell the future, if you just knew how to read them properly. And she never liked to rely on anyone; this would be something she figured out herself.

Ishizu curled her small fingers around the sheets thoughtfully, as she pondered the dream. Pulling her legs up against her chest, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes blearily, and watched the sleeping form of her older brother on the other bed through the half-darkness.

The dream was still fresh in her mind, a strange jumble of brightly coloured images, noises and blurred pictures. Ishizu scrunched up her nose in an effort to remember more. But try as she might, she could only recall one fragment.

Motorbikes, cards, golden Items, tears, blood, faces, fire, screaming, blood, tears, fire, screaming.

All was darkness, and blood, and screaming.

And the screaming went on and on and on, and she was begging for it to stop, but it wouldn't…

Ishizu's eyes snapped open in horror, as she heard keening wails echoing down the stone catacombs.

Rishid leapt out of bed in an instant and hurried to the door, eyes wide with terror.

"Miss Ishizu, we must go," he said, fiercely, which surprised Ishizu because her big brother was never fierce, he was always kind.

"Make it stop," she whimpered, burying her face in her knees to try and block out the screaming. "Please, big brother, make it stop."

Rishid gave an agonised moan, and grabbed her hand, dragging her out of bed and down the corridor, until they reached the small room with serious looking people hurrying in and out, people that told them 'they weren't allowed in'.

Ishizu pressed her face against Rishid's chest and refused to look away, as he rubbed soothing circles into her back.

The screaming wouldn't stop. It went on and on, until it wasn't just echoing around the halls of her underground home, it was inside Ishizu's head, tearing her mind apart with pain…

Until all was silent, except for the feeble wail of a child. Rishid pushed through the crowd of people, surprisingly strong for a boy so young, with Ishizu peeping curiously through the nook of his arm.

There was a baby, a baby boy, held in the arms of her father. He was waving his chubby fingers in the air as he made gurgling noises, and Ishizu was mesmerised by the tiny bundle. She tried to pull away from Rishid, but his hold was too strong. She glanced up at him, annoyed, all fear forgotten in the suddenness of a mood-swing that only a five year old can have, to tell him that she wanted to go to the baby, she wanted to see the little baby, but stopped short as she felt a tear fall from Rishid's eye onto her cheek.

She followed him, numbly, to the still figure on the stone bed. And as the baby wailed on in the background, and Rishid exchanged final heart-broken words with their mother, all Ishizu could hear was the screaming echoing faintly in the back of her mind. She saw the light in her mother's eyes go out, suddenly, and she clutched at the woman's hand, not understanding, but feeling that something too terrible to comprehend was happening.

When she was four years old, Ishizu Ishtar saw her mother die.


When she was thirteen years old, Ishizu Ishtar had a dream.

It nagged at the back of her mind, but as she curled up drowsily to go back to sleep, all she could remember was a small part.

All was darkness and blood and screaming.

And the screaming went on and on and on, and she was begging for it to stop, but it wouldn't…

Pictures raced past her eyes, pictures that seemed strangely familiar. Faces, so many blurry faces, some that she recognised, some that she felt she would know one day.

There was a boy. Just a face, maybe just even a smile. And unlike with every other face, Ishizu felt nothing, nothing except a sense of peace. Ishizu frowned as she thought of that one picture, the one that stood out from all the others. It was still blurred beyond recognition, but something about it was important…

But some of the pictures, Ishizu thought dismissively, were complete nonsense. That strange metal machine, for example, the one with wheels. What in Ra's name was that?

And that other boy… the one that looked so much like her little brother, and yet so different; face distorted with fury and hatred. She shuddered, and pulled the thin sheet over her more tightly. Nonsense. That's all.

Suddenly all thoughts of dreams were pushed from her mind, as she heard the faint sound of sobbing through the thick stone walls. She sat up abruptly, ears pricking up as she strained to hear it again. Yes, there it was, that plaintive crying. Like an animal in pain.

Ishizu slid out of bed immediately and hurried to the door, heart beating fast with dread. She slipped down the corridor silently, until she reached the door of her younger brother's room.

Peering through the doorway, she saw Malik curled up on the bed, howling into his pillow. With a stab of shock, she realised that his back was covered in bandages, in places stained with crimson. She was about to go to him, to comfort him, hold him close to her, when she saw Rishid standing next to the bed, talking to Malik in a low, gentle voice.

Malik snapped back something that she couldn't quite make out, but bitterness was clear on his face. Ishizu had a terrible feeling that she had seen that twisted look of anger somewhere before.

Ishizu watched, with growing horror, as Rishid pulled the cloth back from his face, to reveal the clumsy tattoos that he'd inflicted on himself carved deeply into his skin. Ishizu brought her hand up to her face to stop a stricken moan from escaping. Not Rishid too…

Tears of anger and sorrow trickled down her cheeks as she watched the pair embrace, Malik weeping into Rishid's shoulder.

This was their fate. They could not escape it. She had been forced to stand by while her brother was tortured to the brink of insanity, and could only offer him tears as condolence.

With a bowed head, and a sinking heart, Ishizu walked back to her bedroom.

When she was thirteen years old, Ishizu Ishtar realised she was trapped.


When she was fourteen years old, Ishizu Ishtar had a dream.

Well, it was more of a vision than a dream, a split-second of foresight (all was darkness and blood and screaming) which made her stumble backwards in shock. Rubbing her temples wearily, she sighed. She knew that seeing the future was in her blood, and when she received the Millennium Necklace when she came of age, these strange snap-shots of the future would only increase, but she would never pretend to enjoy them.

"Ishizu, Ishizu! Look at this!" the excited voice of her brother called down the crowded street. A smile tugged at her lips as she thought of how happy he was, but fear set in when she realised that he was talking to a street vendor.

He was talking to someone from the outside world.

Ishizu hurried up and grabbed him by the arm, ignoring Malik's howl of protest and the vendor's suspicious look.

"How come the kid's never seen a television?" he asked, curiously.

"Oh, he's making it up, ignore him, he does like to tell stories…" Ishizu laughed it off, nervously, and dragged Malik off before the vendor could reply.

"Malik, we're going back now," she said, firmly, as soon as they were out of earshot. "If Father realises where we were…" She stopped, too scared to think of what might happen then.

Malik nodded, slightly sulkily, but too caught up in wonder at everything he had seen to be too bothered by this.

"Ishizu, what's that?" he asked, quietly as they neared the edge of town.

Ishizu threw a cursory glance at the discarded magazine that Malik was pointing at. "A motorcycle, Malik," she answered.

Malik gazed at it, enthralled. "Motorcycle," he breathed, rolling the syllables around his mouth like a sweet. "Can I keep it, Ishizu?" he asked, blinking hopefully up at her. Ishizu's heart twisted in her chest, and reluctantly she replied, "Malik, if Father finds it, we'll be in so much trouble…"

But Malik's expression was so forlorn, that she relented, "Well, alright. Just hide it as soon as we get home."

Malik's face broke into a sunny grin and he hugged her, before tearing the picture carefully from the magazine.

Ishizu smiled sadly, before gripping Malik's arm even tighter and pulling him toward their home. As they approached Malik grew quieter and quieter, and by the time they had reached the steps leading down into the darkness he had stopped and tugged his arm out of Ishizu's grip. She turned to look back at him.

"Malik? Come on," she urged.

He was gazing wistfully out towards the town, the picture of the motorbike clenched tightly in his hand.

"Malik?"

"One day we'll be free, big sister," he whispered finally, so quietly that she almost didn't hear him. "One day I'll ride out of this place, and we'll never have to live in the dark again."

Ishizu bowed her head. "Yes, Malik. We will," she answered, hating herself for the lie, and for the fact that she couldn't stop wishing that it was true.

So that Malik wouldn't have to see her face, she turned abruptly to face the winding corridor at the bottom of the stairs, and as she did, she saw something that made her blood freeze with horror. It was a reel with an unwound rope attached, a sort of makeshift alarm, that they must have set off earlier that morning.

They were caught.

"Malik!" she managed to choke out, before running at full pelt down the steps and into the catacombs, not even pausing to see if her brother was following her. She heard his gasp of shock as he saw the alarm, and then heard his small feet pattering along behind her.

She stopped as she came to Malik's room. It was chaos- books scattered everywhere, the bed upturned, blankets strewn haphazardly across the floor. Ishizu gripped the doorframe for support and gave a moan of terror as she saw the mess, but Malik only spared it a glance before rushing down the hall once more, crying out, panic-stricken for Rishid.

Ishizu was frozen to the spot for a second, but as soon as she heard Malik's agonised howl of "Rishid! No!" she dashed after him.

Malik was standing in the doorway of another room, hands over his mouth in horror, staring at their father who was standing over the blood-stained body of Rishid. Ishizu stood behind Malik, too terrified to cry. It felt like her throat was seizing up, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, all she could do was watch the pitiful form of her beloved big brother trying to raise himself up onto his elbows, his back slashed into a maze of criss-cross marks by the whip her father held in his hand. Blood trickled down onto the stone floor, a tiny rivulet of crimson.

(All was darkness and blood and screaming.)

"M-Malik," he groaned, as he saw the pair standing in the doorway. "I'm- I'm sorry." He collapsed back onto the floor, unconscious.

Their father turned towards them, fury making his face twist into an ugly grimace. "He will pay for what you have done by leaving us forever," he growled, before raising the whip and crying out: "You are next, Malik! You will be punished for disobeying me!"

Ishizu always remembered the next moment in slow motion. Her terror as she saw her father bearing down on Malik with the whip, Malik's scream as he clutched at his head in pain (but why was he screaming, the whip hadn't touched him?) and then, suddenly, the tanned hand that shot out and grabbed the whip, pulling it taught, and the low, malevolent laugh that filled the room.

Her father, shocked, tried to pull the whip back, but Malik held it tightly, still chuckling darkly.

Ishizu caught a glimpse of Malik's face, and stumbled back in shock. Instead of her little brother, there was a monster, a demon, with eyes that flashed with fury and evil, a twisted smirk painted across his face.

"Do you dare to resist me?" she heard her father shout, angrily.

"Thank you for getting rid of Rishid for me," the demon-Malik answered, in a dark, harsh voice, before releasing the whip so it fell, useless, to the ground. "But don't think that you scare me," here he laughed, more manically this time. Ishizu pressed herself up against the wall, horror struck. "From now on the Items are mine."

Ishizu watched as their father trembled with anger. "You will inherit them when the time is right, and no sooner!" he spat.

Malik ignored him and slowly picked up the Millennium Rod. "I make the rules now," he said, quietly, almost dreamily, as he ran his fingers along the gold. "The Rod accepts me."

Suddenly he whipped around, eyes flashing and raised the Item, slamming their father against the wall with the force of its power, and laughed even louder.

Ishizu summoned all of her courage, and ran to Malik, pulling at his arm, begging him to stop.

"Malik, please, this isn't you. Please, little brother, wake up," she pleaded with him, shock and terror running through her as he turned to her, that twisted expression so familiar, the one that she had seen in her dreams so many times…

"This does not concern you, woman," he growled, before Ishizu felt the power of the Rod turned on her. She was pushed away by a wave of pure power that pressed down on her, so heavily that it felt like she was drowning in it; it took great effort only to open her eyes and breathe.

This was a nightmare. It had to be. She could see Malik pulling the hidden dagger out of the Millennium Rod, and running his tongue lovingly along the blade. Her father's eyes widened, and Ishizu opened her mouth into a silent scream as Malik, laughing at the look of fear on the man's face, plunged the dagger deep into his chest.

All was darkness and blood and screaming.

And the screaming went on and on and on, and she was begging for it to stop, but it wouldn't…

Her father was screaming, screaming, screaming. Ishizu put her hands over her ears, and squeezed her eyes shut to block it out, like she was a child again, and rocked back and forth sobbing tearless sobs.

There was a boy. Just a face, maybe just even a smile. And unlike with every other face, Ishizu felt nothing, nothing except a sense of peace.

Suddenly, calm flooded her. She opened her eyes slowly, to see her brother standing over the slumped form of their father, the Rod clutched in his hand and blood bubbling over the floor.

"Only the woman left now," she heard him say, turning towards her with that twisted laugh. Ishizu bowed her head in defeat. There was nothing she could do, and yet she still felt strangely calm. Maybe it was that blurred face that seemed so familiar. It was strange, but she wished she had met that person before she died, just once.

"Master Malik!"

Ishizu raised her head in disbelief, to see Rishid leaning up on his elbows, reaching out towards Malik.

But Malik merely glanced at him and smirked. "Go to hell," he said, raising the dagger.

"Malik, you need me to protect you," Rishid's voice sounded quiet, but strong and caring. Ishizu felt a warm glow fill her chest- Rishid never gave up, he was always there. She raised her eyes to look at Malik, hopefully. Surely, if anyone could reach him, it would be Rishid...

Malik dropped the Rod with a sudden moan, and fell to the floor crying. Ishizu sat up, trying to slow her pounding heart. Her brother was… safe. That's all that mattered.

Malik buried his head in Rishid's chest, and Ishizu could hear Malik's cries rising in terror as he realised what he had done. She looked at the body of their father, and shocked herself by not being able to muster any kind of love for the dead man. All she cared about was her brothers.

She watched as the mysterious figure in a turban and with ancient eyes rose up from her father's dead body, saying things about the Pharaoh that Ishizu didn't hear. She had become numb.

And she had a terrible feeling that this was only the beginning of a long journey, in which her family would be torn apart. She rubbed at her eyes to push back tears.

(And the screaming went on and on and on, and she was begging for it to stop, but it wouldn't…)

When she was fourteen years old, Ishizu Ishtar saw her little brother turn into a demon and watched her father die, without weeping.


When she was eighteen years old Ishizu Ishtar had a dream.

She lay in bed for a few minutes, fingering the sheets pensively, watching the light from the torches flicker across the walls of her bedroom. It was that dream again, that strange dream she'd had so often before.

The one with the faces, and blood, and screaming. So much screaming. Ishizu shuddered as her hands closed around the Millennium Item at her throat. She had long ago given up on dismissing this 'dream' as just a dream. It was a vision, clearly. A vision of the future to boot, and yet it was so much less obvious than her visions usually were.

For a start, none of the faces were clear-cut (apart from the images of Malik and the monster that had emerged four years ago); they were all blurred, and all that distinguished them clearly from one another were the emotions that she felt when she saw them. Hope for the first one, desperation for the second, so on and so on.

And that last one, the boy that made her feel at peace. Ishizu thought, wryly as she stretched and got out of bed, that seeing that boy was the only time in her crazy life when she did feel calm. Which was amusingly ironic, or desperately sad, depending on how you looked at it.

She ran her fingers absentmindedly through her long hair, and was about to start getting dressed when her head suddenly snapped up in horror. She had had a feeling, just for a moment, that something terrible was happening. And when it came to 'feelings', Ishizu was usually right.

Grabbing a robe to put over her night-gown, she dashed down the corridor to Malik's room, stopping short when she came to it.

It was empty. Completely empty. Most of his possessions were still there, but they were neatly stacked on the shelves, and Malik's room was never usually tidy.

Ishizu stared in shock at the empty wardrobe, the space under the bed which usually held Malik's second-hand travelling bag (not that he'd ever needed it before) and, worst of all, the fact that the Millennium Rod was gone from its hook next to his bed.

Numbly, Ishizu staggered next door to see Rishid's room deserted as well. Tears started to form in her eyes as she walked slowly towards the stairs that led to the outside world.

The trap door was open, allowing the morning sunlight to flood in, and fluttering from the dismantled alarm system was a tiny scrap of paper.

Ishizu took it, dully, as tears began to drip down her face, to see the tatty picture of a motorcycle that Malik had torn from a magazine four years ago. And on the back, in Rishid's handwriting, a hastily scribbled:

Goodbye, Ishizu

Ishizu fell to her knees, buried her face in her hands, and howled.

Her little brother was gone.

When Ishizu Ishtar was eighteen years old, her brother ran away and her world fell apart.


When Ishizu Ishtar was twenty years old she had a dream.

(Although, if she'd thought about it properly, she would have realised that it was more of a recurring nightmare, but Ishizu never bothered looking at it that way. It was just one of those things that she had to put up with.)

But Ishizu was already living a waking nightmare anyway, what with the Battle City tournament going on and everything she had worked for coming together, and having to watch her baby brother fall even further into the darkness.

Ishizu started to recognise the faces from her dream, which were steadily becoming clearer, meeting them in reality instead of in the turmoil of her dream world.

She met the boy that was laughing with his friend, the one with the ancient eyes, in the museum, who had turned out to be the Pharaoh.

She had bribed Seto Kaiba easily enough (as she'd always thought she would).

She had avoided the Thief, quietly standing by as he discovered the ancient carving in the museum- because, after all, his destiny wasn't hers to interfere with. He and the Pharaoh would have their fight, but not now. No, not now.

But that face that made her feel calm… Why could she not find him?

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she stood outside the door that would lead her onto the duelling platform.

"And the eighth duelist…" Roland's voice echoed out over the playing field, before stopping uncertainly as Ishizu walked slowly through the doors of the elevator.

There were a few gasps of recognition from Anzu and Yuugi, before Ishizu said calmly to the poor announcer: "Ishizu Ishtar. Announce me, please." She was desperately trying to ignore Malik's figure on the other side of the blimp, could almost feel his mind reaching out to her for comfort, but being stopped by the demon that had taken control. She clutched her deck determinedly; she would do this, she would fight, she would never give up, for him. She would save him.

She watched Kaiba's eyes narrow as he identified her. "Well, well. It's you. What a surprise."

Ishizu inclined her head, lightly. "Yes. It is good to see you again, Seto Kaiba."

Seto raised an eyebrow elegantly as they stepped up to the podium. "So you've come to win back Obelisk, I take it?"

Ishizu paused, and then replied coolly, "No. I'm here to save my brother." At this she finally allowed herself to look towards Malik, who just stared right back, that hateful, twisted smirk like a rip across his face. "I know there is still good in him. I plan on saving him from the evil that has taken him over."

She heard a loud yell from behind her: "Marik's her brother? One Ishtar's bad enough, now there are two?"

She turned in time to see the angry boy's friend patting him on the arm consolingly.

"She can't be any worse than Marik, can she?" he pointed out, while the black haired boy behind him snorted in agreement.

But Ishizu didn't hear them. She was frozen in time, staring in complete shock at the angry blond boy that had shouted, the boy whose face was so familiar, that made her feel calm for the first time in her life.

The face that right now was furious, furious because Marik had sealed his friend into the Shadows mere hours before, and he was glaring at her balefully for it, blond strands of hair falling over his stormy eyes.

Ishizu was jolted out of her reverie by Kaiba snorting, derisively. "I don't appreciate you using my tournament to solve your family issues."

Ishizu tore her eyes away from the boy's resentful gaze, and concentrated on the duel, heart hammering and anger burning in her veins.

This was the boy she had dreamed about? A boy that was desperate for revenge on her little brother over another woman?

Ishizu slid her deck into the duel disk, furiously, as Kaiba taunted her further. She had more important things to worry about than a teenage boy that happened to show up in her dreams a couple of times.

"Let's duel, Kaiba," she said, her normal composed voice gone for a split-second, replaced by bitter rage and something else that she definitely didn't want to figure out right now.

But for some strange reason, she managed to feel hopeful. What was it about that boy that made her feel so safe?

When Ishizu Ishtar was twenty years old, she met Jounouchi Katsuya for the first time, and, at last, the future started to brighten.


When Ishizu Ishtar was twenty one years old, she had a dream.

It was that old dream, the one she'd had so many times before, but that really wasn't relevant anymore now that Battle City was over.

She lay in bed, watching the light stream in through the window, and listening sleepily to the earlier street vendors setting up shop on the streets outside. They had chosen to live in a house on a busy street in the centre of town, to banish the memories of growing up in the dark as soon as possible.

"Morning, sunshine!" Malik said, pushing open the door suddenly with a breakfast tray in his hands, and, in Ishizu's opinion, speaking far too brightly for this time in the morning.

She groaned and pulled the sheets over her head; one of the many things she had started to enjoy about having a 'normal' life was lie-ins on a Sunday morning. "Go away, Malik," she said, groggily.

Malik laughed and pulled the covers back. "Oh, come on. I made you breakfast, you could at least show some gratitude."

Ishizu sat up mock-reluctantly, before leaning in quickly and kissing her brother's cheek. "Thank you, Malik," she said sweetly, as he rubbed at his cheek and made gagging noises. "But I have a feeling that Rishid was heavily involved in making this."

"Hey, that's not true!" Malik protested. "I made it! How would you know, anyway?"

Ishizu looked sceptically at the food. "For a start it's not burnt."

"Oh," Malik chuckled, sheepishly.

There was a long pause, whilst Malik looked distantly out of the window. "Well?" Ishizu prompted, gently. He looked at her, questioningly. "What's wrong? You clearly want to tell me something, I'm guessing that's why you got up early to make me breakfast when usually I can't drag you out of bed before noon."

Malik smiled, and looked at his hands.

"It's just… It's about our house."

Ishizu raised her eyebrows. "Oh? I thought you liked it here."

"I do. But… I don't know if I want to live in Egypt anymore. I thought it was what I wanted, but I'm not so sure now," the last part was whispered, as though he was embarrassed.

Ishizu placed a hand on his arm. "I don't blame you, brother," she said, smiling comfortingly. "And I'm fine with living in Domino, if that would make you happy."

Malik had looked up quickly when she mentioned Domino. "How did you know I wanted to live there?" he said, guiltily.

"I'm your sister, Malik," Ishizu said, eyes twinkling. "I know everything."

Malik grinned, and she continued: "In fact I've been offered a permanent post at the museum there before now, so work won't be a problem. And I should be able to find a house fairly easily. So if Rishid's okay with it, then we can start making plans to move."

Malik hugged her happily, and stood up. "I'll go talk to him right now!" he said. Then he paused, awkwardly. "Thanks, Ishizu. For everything."

Ishizu squeezed his hand. "You're welcome. I think I'm going to like living in Domino."

Malik squeezed back and dashed out of the room. Ishizu smiled as she swung her legs out of bed and pushed away the pile of books on her bedside table to reveal a photo of the Battle City finalists that had been taken on their return from the island (minus the Kaiba brothers who had taken a different route home). She stared for a long moment at the grinning face of Jounouchi, and then pushed it away in case one of her brothers should find it.

Yes, she was going to like living in Domino very much.

When she was twenty one, Ishizu Ishtar had a dream, and started a new life.


When she was twenty two Ishizu Ishtar had a dream.

It was different to all the other times she'd had it though, because she didn't remember it when she woke up. In fact, she didn't even remember the fact that she'd had a dream at all until half way through the day.

But that was good. It meant she was moving on, right? Ishizu shook her head at her own foolishness and walked to the next stand of the new exhibit in her museum, running her eyes expertly over the fragments of Greek pottery. What did it matter, anyway. That dream wasn't important.

"Hey, excuse me, Miss," a voice came from behind her, and she turned to see a very familiar face.

"Oh, it's you Ishizu. Sorry, didn't recognise you!" Jou grinned awkwardly.

Ishizu smiled, trying not to laugh, and replied, "Hello, Jounouchi. What can I do for you?"

"It's nothing really, I was just looking for information for this project I've got to do. School, you know."

Ishizu nodded, and after one last adjustment to the Greek pottery straightened up, dusting off her hands. "What's the project on?"

"Some Roman guy I think… Begins with an H?" he added, helpfully, demonstrating that he had clearly been paying full attention in class.

Ishizu laughed softly and gestured for him to follow her towards her office. "Homer, by any chance?"

Jou's face lit up in recognition. "Yeah, that sounds like the name Ryou said. He wrote the story about the war and stuff, with the beautiful girl and the two armies fighting over her? And the wooden horse?"

"The Iliad and the Odyssey," Ishizu answered, gently. "And what do you mean, 'Ryou said'? I thought this was for you?"

Jou laughed. "You really think I'm taking classes that would require this sort of stuff? Not a chance! Nah, I'm just helping Ryou out with his homework. He's been really busy lately, and I thought it was about time he went on a date, so I agreed to take care of this for him."

Ishizu raised her eyebrows in interest as they reached her office and she started looking through the various books she had on Homer that were lined up on her shelves. "Ryou's dating? Who?"

Jou blushed. "Ah. Yeah, sorry, I forgot- I wasn't meant to tell you."

"Why not?" Ishizu grinned. "Please?"

Jou shook his head, going even redder.

Ishizu put her hands on her hips and turned to face him. "You'd better tell me or I won't give you the books," she said, wagging her finger at him, eyes sparkling.

Jou mumbled something under his breath, now so red that he distinctly resembled a tomato.

"What?" Ishizu teased.

"Malik. He's going on a date with Malik," Jou finally replied.

Ishizu's jaw dropped. For a split-second she was completely frozen, but then she burst out laughing. After a few seconds during which Jou looked at her oddly, he started to chuckle as well.

"You're taking it well - so I take it you're not surprised?" Jou asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Ishizu wiped tears from her eyes. "I've honestly never been more shocked," she beamed at Jou. "I'm just happy."

He nodded, frowning slightly, clearly not understanding, so she handed him the books and waved him off.

"Go on then, you've probably got work of your own to get done."

He turned to go, but at the last minute looked back. "Hey, thanks. It would have taken me ages if I'd gone to the library."

Ishizu smiled. "Yes, I'm sure they would have been very helpful when you asked them where the books about 'some Roman guy' were kept."

Jou grinned. "Thanks again, Ishizu. You know, if you want I can buy you a drink to say thank you properly?"

She ignored the way her heart stopped for a split-second, and smiled at him. "That would be nice, Jou."

When she was twenty two, Ishizu Ishtar found out that her little brother was moving on with his life, and decided that it was about time she did the same with her own.


When Ishizu Ishtar was twenty five, she slept without a care.

(There was a boy.)

No more dreams, no more visions, no more flashbacks to a past she would prefer to forget.

(Just a face, maybe just even a smile.)

She slept peacefully, and the only times she woke up were when her boyfriend's snores became too loud, in which case she would roll her eyes and move out of his embrace, smiling affectionately.

(And unlike with every other face, Ishizu felt nothing.)

Of course, she always seemed to have moved back into the crook of Jounouchi's arm by the morning.

(Nothing except a sense of peace.)

When she was twenty five, Ishizu Ishtar was happy.

(The screaming had stopped.)


AN- I got a lot of the dialogue in this from various 'Yugioh Episode Guides', as I wanted the flashbacks to be as close to the actual show as possible, just more from Ishizu's point of view. The scene when Marik kills their father especially- pretty much all the speech in that bit is in the actual episode, and if anyone is confused by the dagger/whip etc. I based it on the Japanese original, so it had the violence left in! I did change a few things though- some of the english translations of the episodes were a bit… weird, to say the least! I also messed with the ages a bit. For example, I couldn't find the exact age when Malik leaves to form the Rare Hunters anywhere, so I just made it up.

I hope you liked the angsty weirdness! XD!

Bookworm