A/N: Shingetsu and Vector are completely different people in this, even though Shingetsu will seem like Vector later.
A feeling of dread came over Yuma as he stared at the motionless body of Shingetsu.
He can't be dead...Yuma thought. He just can't be...
After the Sargasso battle and the Barians had left, Kaito had retrieved Shingetsu's body, since Yuma had refused to leave without him.
Yuma shook him lightly. "Hey, wake up! The battle's over. You're safe now. Please wake up..."
"Yuma, he's gone..." Kaito said quietly.
"No he's not. He just needs to wake up, that's all."
Even though Yuma kept denying it, it was obvious Shingetsu wasn't breathing or moving, and he was beginning to grow cold in Yuma's arms.
"Yuma, you need to stop. He's dead..." Kaito tried again, this time kneeling next to the teen to put a comforting arm around his shoulders.
"But maybe we can still help him!" Yuma protested.
Kaito shook his head. "It's too late. He's been gone too long."
Everything seemed to sink in for Yuma then. He broke down crying.
"No...He can't be gone...Not like this..." Yuma sobbed.
"I'm sorry Yuma..." Kaito murmured.
Parts of what was left of Sargasso started falling and collapsing around them.
"We have to get out of here now." Kaito said, pulling Yuma to his feet and herding him toward the airship like he was blind, which, for how grief-stricken he was, wasn't far from the truth.
The funeral was agony.
Yuma was hardly able to sit through the whole thing without breaking down.
And the burial was even worse.
By the time it was over and Yuma was back in his room, he'd already ran out of tears to shed.
Astral tried multiple times to comfort the young teen, but each time was met with failure and he'd reluctantly retreat into the Key to think of a new approach.
Kotori, Tetsuo, and the rest of the Number Investigation Club became increasingly worried for him and asked Rokujuro if he could help Yuma like he had before.
He agreed and asked them to have Yuma meet him tomorrow.
The next day, Yuma trudged up the long staircase to the Duel Sanctuary.
When he finally reached the top, he paused for breath and then walked in the doors.
Yuma looked around the room, found it empty, then started toward the other room where he found Rokujuro waiting for him.
"I'm so glad you could make it, Yuma." Rokujuro said, smiling warmly.
When Yuma said nothing, he continued. "Your friends told me what happened... How are you feeling?"
Yuma thought this was a stupid question. He'd just watched his best friend die. How did he expect him to feel? "Horrible..." He replied quietly.
Rokujuro nodded sympathetically. "It's never easy to lose a loved one." He said, then added. "It's a shame that we can't bring people back to life..." He seemed to want to say more, but held back.
Yuma noticed though. "You're not telling me something, aren't you?"
Rokujuro just shook his head. "It's nothing important."
Yuma narrowed his eyes at the old man. "What are you hiding...?" He asked.
Rokujuro sighed. "Very well...But if I tell you, promise me you will never do it, alright?"
Yuma nodded and listened as Rokujuro explained.
"Well, I'm sure you know your history well enough to know that before this land was swarmed with settlers, it was inhabited by Native Americans, or Indians, correct?"
Yuma nodded.
"Well, they were very good at communicating with spirits from other dimensions and mastered the art of bringing back the dead. Or so they thought."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, they succeeded in bringing back the dead, but they weren't quite right when they came back. They were monsters, demons even. Believed to be possessed by the
Devil himself. They abandoned the art, one of their burial grounds are only a few miles from Heartla- I mean-"
Yuma got up then and started towards the door. "Thanks Master Rokujuro. You've helped me a lot."
"Yuma, wait!" Rokujuro called, but Yuma didn't respond and ran out the door.
The night was dark as a lone figure stood in Heartland Cemetery, shovel in hand.
He stared at the newly dug grave, the dirt still unsettled from it's disturbance a few day prior.
Yuma shoved the shovel down into the soft dirt and started digging.
Don't worry, Shingetsu...You'll be okay again soon...
After about 2 hours, Yuma finally uncovered the coffin enough to open and pulled the stiff, cold corpse of his friend out.
It took almost another hour to drag the body outside the city's limits without being seen and a half hour more to make it to the burial ground.
After leaving Master Rokujuro's house, Yuma had looked up the tales about the Indian burial grounds and found the location of the one Rokujuro had mentioned accidently.
Upon arrival, Yuma took a moment to stare at the stones that had been lined into a star-like shape on the ground, then started digging.
He dug as far down as he could, then, as carefully as he could, laid Shingetsu's body into the hole and covered it over.
He stayed beside the grave for a few moments, then started home.
Several days passed and Yuma began to worry that maybe the burial ground hadn't worked and he'd robbed a grave for nothing.
He decided to go back to Master Rokujuro's house and ask him if he knew how long it would take for Shingetsu to come back.
He knew Rokujuro would be mad, but it was already done, so there wasn't much he'd be able to do anyways.
Just before he left his house, his grandmother, Haru, caught him.
"Yuma, where are you going?" She asked.
"Um, I'm..." Thinking fast he said, "Taking some groceries to Rokujuro's place, that's all."
"Nice try Yuma, I just sent Akari to do that. Now, tell me the truth, Yuma!"
Yuma didn't stick around to answer, and instead chose to run out the door before Haru could catch him.
Once Yuma arrived at Rokujuro's, he had to stop at the top of the stairs again for breath before entering.
"Rokujuro?" Yuma called out.
Something's not right... He thought. It was quiet, far too quiet.
Yuma went back into the other room. At first everything looked fine, then he noticed that the few objects in the room were scattered and broken, and crimson was splattered on the walls.
"Rokujuro?" Yuma called out again, quieter this time and far more worried. "Are you here?"
Out of nowhere, something fell from the ceiling that was held by a rope and a sickening crack was heard.
Yuma stumbled backwards in surprise, then stopped to see what it was.
It was Rokujuro's corpse, bloodied and broken.
Yuma gasped, too shocked and horrified to even scream.
He suddenly remembered what Haru had said.
"AKARI!" He screamed, praying his sister was all right.
Something else fell from the ceiling then, and Yuma realized in horror it was Akari, in just as bad shape as Rokujuro was in.
"No..." He whispered quietly to himself. "They can't be dead..."
Giggling from overhead caused Yuma to look up.
Up among the rafters was Shingetsu, covered in blood that was not his own, a demented, twisted smirk on his face as he giggled in sick ecstasy.
Yuma remembered what Rokujuro had told him. "Well, they succeeded in bringing back the dead, but they weren't quite right when they came back. They were monsters, demons even. Believed to be possessed by the Devil himself."
This can't be happening... Yuma thought to himself. This is just a nightmare...I'll wake up soon...
But this was no dream. This was the morbid reality of what Yuma had done; the tragic mistake he'd made in his grief-stricken state.
"Shingetsu... What did you do?" Yuma asked quietly.
"I was only playing~" He replied, but his voice didn't sound the same anymore.
"You knew what you were doing, didn't you?" Yuma asked, not believing that what had happened could truly be mistaken for play.
"Would you like play too? Your sister sure had fun..." Shingetsu asked, instead of answering.
Yuma quickly turned and ran, desperately wanting to get away from the monster that was once his friend.
The sound of a thud and foot falls told of Shingetsu's pursuit, which drove Yuma to run faster.
But Shingetsu had always been a naturally fast runner and was able to tackle and pin Yuma to the ground. That's when Yuma saw the bloody knife that was coming towards his throat.
Yuma knocked Shingetsu's arm away and flipped them over so Shingetsu was the one pinned, then wrestled the knife from his hand.
In his panic, Yuma brought the knife down on Shingetsu's chest before he could find a way to get free.
Then Yuma pulled the knife out of the wound and stabbed it in again.
And again.
And again.
He kept bringing the knife down until he knew Shingetsu wasn't moving and all that was left of his chest was a gaping, gory hole. By this time, he was crying again.
How could this have gone so wrong...? He thought, pained.
Once he'd recovered a bit from what had happened, he left Shingetsu's once again cold body to find his sister.
He crouched next to her body and searched desperately for a pulse, but found none.
He started crying harder.
Not only had he lost Shingetsu, now Rokujuro and Akari were gone too.
They can't be gone...Not Akari...How can she be gone...? Yuma thought in misery. Then he thought of something and he knew he had to do it.
The lone figure returned to the star-shaped stone design, a new corpse drug behind him this time.
After finishing the temporary grave and carefully placing the body inside, he covered it over and left for home, much like he'd done for Shingetsu.
A few days passed and Yuma was home alone, being that Haru was out spending the day chatting with Kotori's grandmother.
He was in the middle of making dinner for when Haru came back, and for when she came home, too. It was then that he heard the door creak open and close again.
Yuma smiled grimly to himself, knowing who it was.
He turned to see Akari standing in front of him, still bloodied and torn from what Shingetsu had done to her, but still her, no doubt.
"Akari...I'm so glad you're back..." Yuma said, stepping towards her and wrapping his arms around her waist. She hugged him back in return.
I guess the burial ground isn't so bad...It's just that Shingetsu got twisted some how. Akari's fine... Something just went wrong with Shingetsu is all...
But little did he know that Akari's hand had strayed from his back over to the counter where he'd mistakenly left a knife one the counter. She curled her fingers around the
handle and slowly, ever so slowly, moved it behind his back and took careful aim at his heart...