Title: Orbit
Genres: Sci Fi/Romance
Summary: She considers herself something of an expert on the differences between reality and falsity. They are in constant motion around one another, and cannot stop. / Shadowshipping, Yami Yugi x Shizuka
A/N: Written for the YGO Fanfiction Contest, Season 8, Round 10. The pairing this time is Shadowshipping (Yami Yugi x Shizuka), although the story also contains glimpses of Silentshipping (Seto x Shizuka) and Prideshipping (Seto x Yami Yugi). This story is set post-canon, and revolves around a lot of KC technology – specifically the virtual reality equipment from the Legendary Heroes and Virtual World arc. I've been waiting the whole Season to write something sci-fi inspired, so here goes!
Enjoy!
Orbit
The Monday afternoon is blank and mildly chilly. Shizuka walks up the street towards the tallest building in the city, adjusting her backpack with one hand. She raises the other to shield her eyes as she cranes her neck up to see the top of the building. She can't see the top of it clearly, but she thinks to herself that the two giant-sized Blue Eyes White Dragon statues flanking the entrance are much more intimidating than the sheer height of the building.
She walks inside and talks to the receptionist at the desk within the main lobby, who answers her with a smile. "So, you're one of our finalists! We have an additional survey for you—please take a seat over here while you fill this out for us, okay? Thank you." She hands Shizuka a clipboard and a pen and directs her to the side with a wave of one hand.
The chairs are grouped for conversation. Shizuka sits, setting her bag on the floor. A middle-aged man in a business suit holds a similar survey, although she can see from a brief glance that his is almost finished. She crosses her legs and rests the clipboard against her knee.
She fills out the survey with diligence and accuracy—she knows without being told why she's made it through the first round of screening. What she doesn't know is why she even signed up in the first place. She's not interested in KC's other products—their duel disks or gaming platforms—but when she saw the advertisements in the newspaper the previous week, she applied on a whim.
Somewhere in the room, a telephone rings. Shizuka finishes one sentence and begins another.
It is marketed as the next generation of virtual reality equipment. KC is on the brink of developing a false reality so convincing that they challenged their testers to find any kind of fault with it. Shizuka slashes her name across the bottom of the paper and follows the line of type and handwriting back to the top, to the bold letters that read, Virtual Operating Systems Tester Application. The form alternates between asking medical questions—"Are you prone to seizures?" or "Are you currently taking any medication that might affect your lucidity while using one of our machines?"—to the standards such as, "Why do you wish to test our VR software?" The last is easy.
Shizuka considers herself something of an expert on the differences between reality and falsity; to her newly trained eyes it is clear. Nothing can mimic the feeling of reality. No imagined sense can ever be as authentic as the real thing.
She turns in the slip of paper and leaves the building. Once again she shields her eyes as she tries to look at the top of the building. She can barely see it before the tip is swallowed by a cloud.
Shizuka receives the call later the next day. Would she be interested in serving as an initial tester for the new virtual reality platform? Yes, she says. She would. They do not tell her anything else, only to arrive at KC for a brief orientation before her first session.
She tells Jonouchi about her new job. She doesn't tell him the pay, which is outlandish—the company requires six sessions, spread out over two weeks. Each session will last an hour—that is all they have told her, so that is all she relates to him. He agrees to drive her to the building for her sessions.
When she arrives at Kaiba Corporation, it strikes her that the building looks much different today. The building appears to be made up of all windows, each large and square pieces of shining glass that climb to the sky. She can see reflections in the glass—the sky, the surrounding buildings. Right before she opens the main door, she can see a glimpse of herself in it before it opens. She doesn't think about it for long, however, before she is escorted into an elevator by the receptionist.
The receptionist presses a button for the top floor, then steps out as the doors begin to slide closed. "You'll be briefed when you reach the top," Shizuka is told.
The quick hum of the elevator is calming, but she winces as her ears pop from the rush of height. She is not sure what to expect from all of this—she does not know what she will see when the doors open.
The doors open as a bing announces the floor number. She steps out onto dark red carpet to a sea of wooden office furniture and sweeping views of the city. Seto Kaiba himself leans against a desk. She is not sure what to say to him at first.
"I wasn't expecting you," she says.
The look he gives her is withering. "Well, I was clearly expecting you. Come on, we haven't got all day. I don't, at least."
She follows him into the center of the room, where he shows her a few strange-looking devices set on-top of one of the desks. "You don't need to know how these work, and I'm not going to tell you. What you need to know is that where you're going is not real. I have created every single image and feeling from countless amounts of data amassed by my company's servers over years and years of our operations. You are one of a dozen chosen for this task. Your job is simple." He pauses to gauge her reaction. She is watching him expectantly.
"You are to assess our construct of reality, and either approve it or tell us what is wrong so that we may fix it," Seto says. "We've solved some of the simple things—gravity, weight, speech. We're working on weather at the moment." She nods. "You are to interact with our NPCs—non-player characters," he explains. "You are to write reports immediately following your sessions. We have a series of checklists you are to complete. Your first session will begin immediately. Here is our confidentiality agreement—wouldn't want you to take our technology to Shroeder, would we?"
Shizuka mumbles a "no" and signs the paper he hands her.
"Good. Follow me."
The room he leads her to is diametrically opposite from the obvious comfort of his office. He unlocks the room with a keycard and holds the door open for her. Inside, she is greeted by dustless white tile and massive machines that span the length of one wall, connected by cables as thick as her arms to a series of pods that line another.
Seto taps one. "Your number is four. The first session will last an hour. Get used to the basics. I'll see you when it's over."
The machine dwarfs her, but she climbs in easily and allows herself to be connected to it with a series of cords around her wrists and a visor for her head. She thanks him for his troubles. Seto merely glances away and seals the lid of the pod with a decisive click. She tries her best to relax. The seat of the pod really is quite comforta—
—She is not expecting to see Domino when she opens her eyes. She is not sure what she had expected; grassy plains, something blank and open and lifeless. Not this. Nothing like this.
It is overwhelming. The sky is dark, and she can see flashes of light from within them, the telltale signs of thunder and lightning. The air feels heavy on her arms. She glances at them and finds that her arms are bare. She wears white; a plain polo shirt with the KC logo and a pair of simple pants. She rolls her eyes at the logo.
She flexes her toes in her shoes before she takes a step. At first it is unnerving how natural it feels, but she realizes before long that everyone around her is staring. She realizes it is probably because she is walking down the middle of the road.
There are no cars that she can see, but a few people dressed all in black mill in either direction down the sidewalks on either side of the road. She joins one, and follows their path. She can see the KC tower rising a few blocks away, and crosses at a crosswalk to turn left down another street.
She analyzes Seto's words—single images and feelings from countless amounts of data amassed by the company's servers over years and years of their operations…
It strikes her that the KC tower is in the exact center of the city. Perhaps the information they had collected had to do with the very network of the city itself?
She approaches one of them. "Excuse me, sir, can you tell me the time?" Her voice sounds almost mechanical to her ears; the way it sounds when she hears her voice on her own answering machine.
"Kids," he huffs. "Too lazy to check the Board. It's four forty-five, kid. Quitting time. Dinnertime, for me. You should be getting home, too."
"The Board?"
"The message Board? At the Kaiba Corporation Tower, kid! Do I need to get you a map?" He looks closer at Shizuka. "Are you not from around here?"
"Of course!" She turns back towards the main street—figures, it would be at KC. "Thank you for your assistance!"
"Yeah, whatever." The man turns and walks away with a shuffling gait, and Shizuka re-joins the few people on the main street. After a minute or two, it becomes obvious what the man was talking about. A large white screen stretches the length of what was once a brick plaza. Both digital and physical notes are attached to it, and she can see people reading notes and attaching them to the surface. In the center, a digital reading of the time to the second ticks by.
She peers at the screen. An elderly woman touches Shizuka's elbow lightly. "Miss? I believe there's a message for you at the right." She points to a piece of paper. The edges flip upwards in the slight breeze.
"Ah, thank you." She crosses the length of the screen and grabs the paper; it comes away in her hands.
Enjoying your time so far?
You'll want to grab an umbrella at the shop on 39th and East.
To reply, tap the screen for instructions. SK.
Shizuka feels the first raindrop on her arm. The next follow in a sporadic series, clinking on the bricks and the glass awning of the KC tower across the street. Pedestrians pull up black umbrellas or dart under awnings, and Shizuka once more covers her eyes as she stares at the sky, blinking through the rain.
She is the only one in the square. It's human nature, she supposes, to prefer the state of being dry over the state of being wet, especially while wearing clothes. She realizes with a growing sense of alarm that she's wearing white in the rain.
She follows the street, heading towards the intersection given to her on the note. She's since dropped the piece of paper, weighed down to the bricks by the infinite drops of water. The rain is relentless, sweeping across the city like a sheet. People crowd under awnings of shops or in the lobbies of hotels or restaurants, leaving her alone as she jogs down the sidewalk. Her wet bangs stick to her face and she brushes them out of the way with a rain-slick hand. She spots the store, cheery and light, and watches through the windows as people reach across counters for umbrellas. A crowd stretches out the door, and she tries to push her way through, but each time is blocked by the line of black coats and dark, wide-brimmed hats.
She throws her arms down in defeat and turns away from the store, making her way across another intersection and continuing down the street. The water has begun to pool against the curbs, and she sloshes her way through—it's not real, so it doesn't really matter what she does to her shoes, does it? She throws her arms open and spins in the cold rain, kicking puddles as she walks. She jumps in a puddle, and watches as the water arcs through the air in perfect order.
Shizuka remembers the words—solved some of the simple things—gravity, weight, speech—
She knows this part of town. The buildings are still thick but not as high; these are offices and shops, not skyscrapers. There is a bridge ahead; she crossed it on her way here, in the real world.
A lone figure dressed in black stands with his arms folded over the railing. She glances down the bridge; like the tower, she cannot see its end through the fog.
She approaches the figure, dragging damp shoes and damp pant-legs. The feeling of walking in wet shoes is disgusting, and she smiles as she thinks about how realistic it is.
The figure's hair is long, pulled down from the thick rain. She blinks through it; surely he must realize how odd it is to be out here, when every other NPC she has encountered sought cover from the rain.
"H-hello?" Her teeth are chattering, and she wraps her arms around herself for warmth as she leans against the cold metal of the railing. The figure turns, and Shizuka can see the odd streaks of red and yellow in the sections of hair that frame his face. It's so familiar, but so out of place that she can't place it initially.
"Do I know you?"
His eyes widen, and she waits for his answer.
"Shizuka? What are you—"
—The first thing that alerts her back to the sensation of being ensconced within the pod is the loudness of her own breathing. The lid clicks and Shizuka reaches unsteady fingers to pull the visor from her head. She stares at Seto, eyes darting around the room as he returns the visor to a built-in rack at the side of the pod.
"You registered a spike in your pulse right before your time expired," he informs her casually. "That is not normal among the other subjects. We'll see next time why that might have been the case."
She brushes her hair back into place; it is dry. She is warm and dry, and everything else was all within her mind.
"That's…so surreal," she says. "It's really good."
"That's what everyone says," he replies.
"Why did you do it?"
He glances at her. "Why did I develop a virtual reality technology? Do you not know what my company does?"
"That's not what I meant," she says, climbing out of the pod. "I meant—why did you re-create Domino? And that man at the bridge—I could have sworn he was—"
"Here's the report." He hands her another typed piece of paper. "You're to fill it out on the premises, but whether you do it in this room or my office is up to you."
"Office is fine," she responds. There aren't any obvious writing surfaces in this room, and she doesn't want to sit in the pod to do it. She glances over to see that the lid of one of the other pods is closed—someone else is inside, experiencing the same thing that she did.
As she finishes, Seto hands her a thin piece of plastic. "This is your access to that room. Your next session is in two days, same time. I'll see you then."
"Thanks." She takes the key card gingerly and tucks it into her pocket. She punches the elevator button, and the doors open as if they had been waiting for her.
One side of the elevator is glass—she can see the city fall as she does. The sky is darkening as the sun slips under the horizon. On the ride down, she realizes that he had never answered her question.
"Are you ready for your second session?" he asks her.
"Of course." Shizuka watches with mild interest as Seto continues to work on his computer, tapping keys rapidly, barely sparing her a second glance.
"Well, don't let me keep you. Go on in—it's fully automated, you know. You shouldn't have to do a thing." His eyes are drawn back towards the screen. Shizuka almost laughs at the sight—he's wearing glasses, the thin kind for reading, but she figures it's not a look he wears anywhere outside of this space.
"Alright," she says. "Thanks."
The room is just as she remembers it, except now she notices a woman with graying hair climbing out of one of the pods on the furthest end. They greet each other with a nod and a smile, and as Shizuka watches her leave she notices the arthritic hold of the hands and the stiffness in her legs as she walks. Shizuka wonders if, in Seto's version of reality, things like that wouldn't matter.
She settles herself into the cushioned support of the chair, visor in place, waiting—
—The street is much busier, filled with black-jacketed pedestrians. A car honks, and she steps out of the street, watching the taxi pass by. She smells the exhaust.
The bridge seems much farther away this time, now that she is actively searching for it. He is standing there once again, staring off in the distance at something Shizuka cannot see.
"Hello," she greets him. "I'm Shizuka. I think…I think I know you."
With his hair dry, it seems that much easier to place him in her memories. She remembers many months ago, when she saved her brother from drowning, how she had been introduced to all of Jonouchi's friends. The man stares at the water.
"You're him, aren't you? Yugi…or not Yugi, I'm not sure—you look so very much like him."
"I know." His voice is much deeper than she expects. "I am not Yugi, although there was a time when we shared one body and mind." At her blank stare, he continues. "It's…strange, isn't it. I do not know where Yugi is. I do not know where anyone is. I leave messages every day to them, to meet me at this bridge."
He turns to face her. He is much taller than Shizuka, and tilts his face down to observe her fully. "You are the first to respond…Shizuka."
He pauses, reconsidering. "No, not the first. Seto came, early on, but he has since stopped visiting me. He is very angry. I don't know why."
Frozen, Shizuka cannot look anywhere but at his eyes—they look so real. They are not the eyes of someone who was created artificially, this she knows. But if he is not Yugi, then who is he?
The words, "There's something you should know" die on her lips as she realizes the implications. No—she needs to ask Seto. Seto would know.
"How long have you been here?" she asks.
"Days, weeks," he says. "Months. It feels like forever."
She glances down at the smooth, glassy water beneath the bridge. It is unmoving, just like their world. "Is that…bad?" she asks next. "Do you…wish you were elsewhere?"
The look he fixes her with is telling, and the fierceness of it seems to pierce through her soul. "I know enough to know that wherever I am, it is not home. And I wish to be home more than anywhere else in the world."
Shizuka nods. "Me, too."
She remembers the tests; the objectives she is supposed to accomplish. Right now, she can only think of one thing she wants to experience.
Shizuka digs her fingernails into her palms, feeling the skin light up with pain. She can feel it—it certainly feels real, but that does not make it so—
—She tugs the visor off and sets it back into place. The door to Seto's office is pushed open with more force than she than she thinks she's capable of, and when she enters the office she spies its occupant sitting forward in his desk chair, glasses off, shuffling a deck of duel monsters cards.
"Finish your report," he says brusquely.
"Not until you tell me first why you've re-created some strange version of Yugi inside your virtual world. Please." Her own voice is firm but soft, and she yields under his iron stare. "Tell me. Please." Her palms ache, but that may just be her imagination.
Seto returns to his shuffling. "You don't want or need to know. Finish your report and then leave. We're not paying you to stand here and talk to me."
"…Right." She accepts the piece of paper from him and fills it out. On the back, she scribbles a note.
Can you tell me why you created the Board? SK.
She arrives at the office exactly on-time. Seto is leaning against his desk, and behind him clouds hover beyond the glass of the expansive windows.
"I created it as a way to maintain a means of communication between those inside the VR world and anyone on the outside."
It takes Shizuka a few seconds to realize that he is talking about the Board.
"Can you…show me how to use it?" she asks.
"My computer is connected," he replies. "So are the ones inside. It's quite simple." He slides his laptop forward and turns it around with one fluid movement. With the motion she catches the briefest glimpse of the exposed skin of his arm before it disappears under the starched white sleeve of his shirt.
He taps a few buttons, and the screen turns to white. Bits of black text line each side, scrolling and moving as things are added or pulled away.
"Click anywhere you like to send a message," he says. "What would you say to them, if you could?"
"What have you told them?" she asks in turn. "What have you told the other Yugi?"
"It's none of your concern." He snaps the cover of the laptop closed, and she quickly withdraws the hand that had been reaching out towards the screen.
"They don't know they're in a false world, do they?"
"Why would I tell them?" he challenges. "They are not real."
"But he is, isn't he?" Shizuka says. "He's as real as you or I. His mind…I can't explain it, but I know. And so do you."
"Are you here to lecture to me on what makes a person real?" Seto catches her gaze, and she breaks the connection first.
"I thought…" Shizuka pauses. "I thought you said we couldn't talk when your company is paying me to test your hardware." She takes a small step backward. "I'm going to go and do that now. Thanks."
She is the expert on reality, she believes. Reality is the state of things as they exist, instead of how they may appear to be—
—She finds herself in front of the Board once more. It isn't raining, but the sky is an odd shade of blue; too light to be night, and too dark to be day, yet she can see the sun shining overhead. Beside her, a small child scribbles a note onto the Board.
A small pen rests on the ledge before her. She picks it up, testing its weight in her hands. Slowly, she bends forward, letting the tip of the stylus rest lightly on the screen. It follows her movements as she writes.
I suppose if you won't answer my questions in real life I'll have to turn to your version of reality.
Tell me why you've written some version of Yugi into the game. SK.
Satisfied, drops the pen neatly onto the ledge and turns away. The square is crowded as are the sidewalks, and Shizuka tries her best to move through the resisting crush. They do not part for her, and as the crowd thickens she throws an elbow into one, and a chorus of angry shouts erupt from the crowd.
"Let me through! I'm in a hurry—please!" A trio of schoolboys slide to the side to give her some room, but a woman carrying a few shopping bags refuses to respond, so she darts into the road for a moment to weave her way around the crowd. A truck honks, and Shizuka's heart stops for the moment before she leaps back on-to the curb.
"I'm sorry!" She pauses to catch her breath before continuing down the street. More cars honk at her as she crosses on a red light. "Sorry." It is all she can say as she reaches the bridge.
The man sits on the sidewalk, staring at the road. His back is pressed against the railing, and in his hands he holds a deck of cards, shuffling them absently. The gesture is so oddly familiar, that she cannot help but superimpose the two—Seto, and this Yugi. Just what happened to him?
She slides down to the ground beside him, and he moves slightly to make room for her. "There are so many things I want to ask you."
"I'll tell you anything, if it can help," he replies.
"If you're not Yugi…then what should I call you?" It is unreasonable, how badly she wants to know.
"Call me Yami." The cards fall into place in his hands. He shuffles them again. "Can you help me?"
"I'm going to try." The shuffling ceases. Slowly, she reaches down to slide her left hand into his right, tightening her fingers. "I'll do everything I can. I'll—I'll figure out the truth, and bring it back to you."
"The other day I thought I saw you," he says. "But when I looked closer, it wasn't. When I look at things—the glass of the Kaiba Corporation Tower, for example—it seems to shimmer and change almost right before my eyes. It feels like I'm looking at nothing, even though I can see myself clearly reflected in it."
Shizuka leans closer, drawn to his words and his warmth and his desperation.
"But when I look into your eyes, Shizuka"—he has tucked the deck back into his pocket and his other hand moves to cradle the side of her face—"I see a true reflection. You are more real than anything I've ever experienced."
"I could say the same thing about you," she says. On an impulse, she tilts her head up and kisses him. After a moment she pulls back and ducks her head, embarrassed. "S-sorry."
"Don't be." His fingers tighten around hers. "What on Earth do you have to be sorry for?"
They are in constant motion around one another, and cannot stop.
"Trust me, you don't want to kn—"
—She awakens with a start, her fingers instantly reaching for her lips. Even in the semidarkness, she can still remember what it felt like. It felt…real. Genuine.
She climbs out of the pod and storms to Seto's office. Outside, the sky is dark and gray, and Shizuka steps into the meager light from the window to stand beside Seto.
"I won't stand for this any longer! Tell me what you've done with Yami—"
"What I've done with him?" Seto tilts his shoulders, effectively turning his back on her. "I saved him."
"Can't you see that he's different? His mind is trapped down there—I don't know how you did it, but you must be able to see how he doesn't belong there! The world is imperfect, and it's not—"
Seto whirls around, and Shizuka's breath catches at the suddenness. "It's your job to fix that! You are here to help me create the perfect reality!"
She reaches towards him, but can't bring herself to touch even the edge of his sleeve. "What's wrong with the reality that we have?"
"He isn't in it," Seto snarls. "You know as well as I what it's like! When Yami left, he left for good! My only worthy opponent—gone. I didn't think I'd ever get a chance to redeem my failure when I remembered the virtual game platform we all tested together, right after Duelist Kingdom. I copied his mind when I got out of the system—stored him away for the time when his physical presence would no longer exist. But at least I still have the data."
"That's…repulsive," she finds herself saying. "You're trying to build a world he can live in, but it's not going to work! He doesn't even know what's happened to him! That's why—"
She stops, suddenly, realization dawning. "That's why you built Domino. Your Tower is the center of this world and his. What, did you copy the entire city, too?"
His silence is enough.
"You did." Shizuka gasps as another thought occurs to her. "Don't tell me…Seto Kaiba, don't tell me that you copied my mind, too?"
"Shizuka, you have to understand, my virtual world needs to be perfect." It is Seto who reaches out to her, grasping her arm lightly. His fingers are trembling. "I will do whatever it takes to replicate a true reality."
"Does this mean that somewhere out there," she says, pointing towards the pod room, "is a virtual copy of me, wandering around your copy of Domino? That you've copied the minds of however many people without their knowledge or consent? Seto, you copied Yami's mind just to keep him alive! It's a prison."
"Not if they're happy." She stares at him, before wrenching her arm away. "I refuse to believe in your version of reality," she says.
"Then finish your report." Seto's tone returns to its normal, businesslike harshness. "And I'll see you in two days for your final session."
When Shizuka wakes up on that last morning, it is to the sound of booming thunder racing across the sky, and the heavy rain that drenches everything in sight from beyond her window. Through the fogged glass she can see the tall, imposing structure of the Tower, rising above the rest of the cityscape.
Jonouchi has to work that evening, so Shizuka calls for a taxi. As it pulls away from the curb, she leans back against the worn black leather, imagining the vehicle's interior to be the pod that transports her to that other virtual dimension. A few minutes later, the cab turns a corner, and Shizuka can see Yugi's Game Shop for a moment before the cab continues down the street.
The road leads directly to the city center—it first strikes Shizuka when she taxicab crosses the bridge. She slides across the seat, pressing her fingers against the cold window. She's not quite sure what she's looking for.
Shizuka supposes she must be looking for reality.
She won't find it in Seto Kaiba's office. He gives her one look and stands from his desk, irritably snapping at her, "Didn't you get my message? It isn't safe to operate this equipment in conditions like these—what if lightning strikes the building, or the power goes out? We don't know what the hell will happen if someone is connected to the system!"
Shizuka stops in her tracks. "What about the people already on the inside?"
"I've told you, it doesn't matter anymore, and it's none of your concern—"
"Let me go in. Let me talk to him," Shizuka insists. "I need to, even if it's only to say goodbye."
"No. Your assistance is no longer required with our project. I…" he hesitates for only a moment. "I'll start over, build a whole new system. Purge the rest."
Behind Seto, lightning cracks across the darkened sky. Rain splatters against the windows, almost diagonally now; the weather is angry. Shizuka can feel it, and it fuels her.
"You can't! I'm in there—he's in there!"
"The systems are already in chaos," he says stiffly. "I shouldn't have even operated the system with this kind of risk, but I ran a diagnostic this morning. The main systems were affected by a power surge earlier—all of the parameters in the VR were completely skewed. There's no telling what you could find in there. If you go in, I can offer you some form of protection, but the reality is unstable. NPCs will be unpredictable, possibly even violent. Everything you know to be true about this world will be twisted in the virtual one, and you still want to go in?"
"It's my risk," Shizuka tells him. "My choice. You can monitor things from the outside, contact me through the Board if something goes wrong."
"If anything happens to you, I'm going to get a lawsuit the size of—"
"There's no time for talk, right? Not when we have a job to do." She relishes in the strength of her voice and the confidence in which she swipes her key card to the access door. Seto is close behind her.
"Don't worry." Shizuka slides into the pod with practiced ease. "Everything will be fine."
"I'm not worried about either of you," he says. "The unknown worries me."
"But it's not real," she says, more to herself than to him. "Only this is real—that world is not, but he is real and you are real and I am real—"
—Shizuka opens her eyes to find a brilliant purple sky, tinged with a dark, salient blue around the edges of the horizon, building up in a blend of colors that didn't look like they belonged anywhere in nature, least of all on the skies.
The streets are empty. The Board stands before her, its glimmering white surface empty and devoid of any letters or paper. There is not even anything to write with.
A message flashes on the screen. She taps it.
If lightning strikes the building again, I'm pulling you out of there. Things will change too rapidly—Yami will only be there for so long. He is waiting for you. Get to the bridge. Now. SK.
Shizuka runs. Each movement is like wading through thick syrup—her legs feel heavy and weighted down, and each step is an effort all in its own. Without warning, the balance shifts, and Shizuka tumbles to the ground, bracing herself against her right arm and shoulder.
Hands reach for her arms. "Miss! Hey miss, let me help you."
She turns, taking in the figure dressed all in black, arms outstretched to help pull her up. Shizuka shrinks away, scrambling up on unsteady limbs. The air seems thinner now, lighter—she can see a few pebbles and blank pieces of paper in the curb near the Board start to rise into the air as the gravity shifts once more.
"I'm sorry, I'm in a hurry, and—"
"I said, let me help you." He reaches out both arms and shoves her to the ground again.
"Help!" Shizuka notices more figures in black shuffling out from around buildings and doors, all weighed down in various ways by the odd gravity. It strikes her a second later that these are not the people she should be calling for help.
"Help you," he says. "Let me help you. Help." He staggers to the right, arms swaying by his sides. An elderly woman, bent over at the waist, hobbles forward, her eyes dark and dead.
"Message for you," she says. "Do you need any help? There's a message—" the words repeat in a loop, and Shizuka backs away, struggling to stand on her shaking legs.
An arm with a dangling wrist is shoved in Shizuka's direction. "Help you. Programmed to help you."
The woman holds up one of the Board pens, clenched tightly in her fist. Her shoulder spasms, arms twitching as she lifts it above her head. "Answer the message. You must answer it. Must answer it. Programmed to help you."
"Stop!" Shizuka scrambles back, trying to will her legs to move faster. Her shoes slip over the pavement as if walking on it for the first time. The sky looms above her, the façade of the Tower backlit in the brilliant purple.
A thin hand snatches Shizuka's own and yanks her away, past the converging programs and down the street. Shizuka swipes her bangs out of her face with her free hand and glances up to see a mirror image of herself, dressed in black, framed against the haze of purple sky.
"Shizuka!" The shock wears off when she realizes how her other self saved her. "How did you…?"
"I couldn't just let myself die, now could I?" she says, as the two continue on their path down the streets of Domino. "Seto sent me here to find you."
"And Yami? Is he…?"
"I do not know." The other Shizuka's grip slackens for a moment, before tightening again with renewed force. "What I know of him is only from our memories. I have not actually met him here."
On a parallel street, she watches as a familiar-looking taxicab swerves wildly down the road, in reverse. The umbrella shop's door is broken, the glass shattered. They continue.
They cross an intersection with blinking, erratic lights. The sidewalk inclines, and then the bridge comes into view, sweeping across her vision. For the first time, she can actually see the end of it.
"Yami!" Shizuka cannot help herself—she runs towards him, and he turns from his position staring off into the distance. If he is shocked at seeing two versions of Shizuka he doesn't show it, but instead opens his arms for her and she rushes into them. He locks his arms around her in a fierce embrace, and her words come out as a whisper in his ears.
"There's something I have to tell you," she says.
"Then tell me," Yami asks.
"None of this is real." Shizuka steps back, but remains within his arms. "This city is a construct, created by Kaiba Corporation. But you are real," she adds, offering him a warm smile. "This is real." She tightens her own arms around him. "I am real."
Yami looks between the two, and Shizuka nods. "Yes—I am real. She's me, just…another version of me. You thought you were the only one who could do that?" She laughs, but it feels forced. "There's so much about you I still don't know. Will you tell me all of it?"
He shakes his head. With it, the world itself appears to shake. "It won't be possible, not in this reality." He lets her go, but the air seems to be warm enough to make up the difference.
The other Shizuka approaches them, looking at Yami with curiosity. "Hello," she greets him. "I'm Shizuka. I think…I think I know you."
Shizuka smiles as Yami answers. "You do. You know me better than you think."
The pang that Shizuka feels isn't brought from sadness or longing, but from the hollowness she feels at watching the two of them together—if a man who only exists in a false world makes her feel whole, what hope does reality hold for her?
She glances at her other self, dressed in black. She is for him, Shizuka realizes. The other Shizuka was made as much for Yami as she was for her—so that Shizuka can leave without leaving him.
Suddenly, she wanted to return to the surface immediately—there was something she had to fix.
She addresses Yami with a wistful smile. "Goodbye," she says. To the other Shizuka: "Thank you."
Shizuka turns—away from the Game Shop and the bridge, towards the Tower that suddenly looks so much less imposing than before, and just barely closes her eyes—
—When she opens them again, it is to darkness until she removes the visor. The room is empty but for her, and Shizuka leaves without the slightest bit of regret.
Seto is in his office, looking even paler than usual in the dim lighting. The storm has dwindled to a low, dulled murmur, and his fingers race over his keyboard. Without waiting, Shizuka pulls over a chair and sits directly in front of his desk.
"Seto." At first he doesn't respond. She tries again. "Seto."
He looks up in irritation. "Great, you're out. Just in time to watch me purge the systems. I can't recover enough—instead of salvaging what's left, I'll re-start it. The next time, it will be perfect." His fingers continue their dance over the keys.
"You don't need to do that. I've solved the problem," she says.
This garners about half of Seto's interest. "So you say." His fingers slow, tapping out a few more characters of text.
"You say you want to create a perfect world—a world so close to this one that no one can tell the difference." Shizuka laughs to herself, lightly shaking her head. "Have you ever considered that our world isn't perfect at all? What your world needs is a little inspiration from the broken parameters."
Seto fixes her with a look of incredulity. "You're asking me to create something that is intentionally imperfect? You do know who I am, don't you?"
"What exactly was it you hired me to do, if not give you my advice?" She leans forward, resting her arms lightly on the edge of the desk. "There's no need to even hide it from them. The copies. Create a world for them—the world they want to live in. I'll help you."
Seto's fingers hover over the keyboard for a solid minute before they once again begin to type in rapid, staccato precision.
"What are you doing?" she asks.
"Creating your world," he replies.
Shizuka smiles. "I have another idea."
"Is there anything I can do to stop you?" he asks dryly.
"No," she says. "I am the expert on reality, after all."
Yami stands with his back to the bridge, one hand clasped tightly in Shizuka's. He can remember the way it was—the Board, the buildings. He can see scaffolding on a nearby building, and the hint of a park beyond that. A taxicab honks at a pedestrian that takes too long to cross the intersection.
"Is there anything wrong with it?" Shizuka asks. "I would be worried, if I were her. Which I am."
"Of course, there always will be," he says. "But there are a great many things right with it, too. Which reminds me"—his fingers tightened over Shizuka's, and they begin to walk down the street—"let's go home."
Their pace is slow and unhurried. Pieces of paper and litter blow into the curb by their feet, and the honking of cars is almost as loud as the jazz music rising from an open shop window. After a while, there are so many things that they no longer notice.
Behind them rises a sky of brilliant purple.
End.
Notes:
1) Orbit, according to Wikipedia, is defined as "the gravitationally curved path of an object around a point in space, for example the orbit of a planet around the center of a star system." I use it in the similar context as to what draws a person towards something and keeps it in that motion.
2) Much of the layout of virtual!Domino was fictionalized, as was the technology described. I don't know what my inspiration was for the actual city, but as for Kaiba Corp's role in it all, I was thinking something like Wall-E's Buy-n-Large, where one corporation is the sole provider for everything that a person has or needs, but in a virtual setting.
3) Thank you for reading, and please let me know what you think! I appreciate and value your reviews.
~Jess