Chapter two, obviously. I am aware that North Academy should be North School. And that Johan's uniform totally is not the uniform worn by North Academy students and that is kinda sorta of touched on in this chapter. But not much.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! DM GX.


I quickly learned two things about North Academy: this school was sexist and this place was quick to break boys. The aggression driving duels flared to dangerous levels, and a ban on duelling was instituted for three days in an attempt to cool the heads of the warring students. It worked until one of the students (who could it have been?) started playing with the ante rule and ended up getting two students expelled from the island because they no longer had a full deck of cards. Ichinose announced that the next person to cause trouble would be thrown into the freezing ocean by him personally. His threat kept us in line for two weeks. Yet no one was thrown into the ocean when offenses resumed.

One month into the school year, I decided that I would have learn to tolerate Jeanne's presence. Her hair was still like silk, and her hands had yet to succumb to the drying forces of wind and ice. My hands, once soft as a baby's skin, now had the chalked topography of badlands. I was jealous of her, I admit. In fact, I was jealous of all the other girls. Every single one of them managed the rough environment with a certain grace that I possessed in no measurable quality. Most of them were better duellists than I too. Especially Birgit, the girl who ran a deck similar mine but was more focused on maintaining life points. How she could be so successful which such a deck I didn't know, but I guessed it might have had something to do with her confidence and lucky draw.

Anyway, I found Jeanne's company to become more tolerable as the weeks passed. Our duel record ended up being consistent, with me usually being one point ahead. This was because she really didn't understand how to use her deck. Too many monsters and too few spell and trap removal cards made her deck unbalanced. I knew that her deck would be able to pulverize mine with a bit of tweaking.

Roles and routines for us females normalized, while the male population seemed to decline everyday. Showering was optional it seemed, and their clothing began to tear. One of the girls offered to repair garments, but she charged a standard fee of three Duel Monster cards. And the owner had to supply the materials for the repair or pay an extra fine of one card. In this way Eleanor amassed a small fortune in Duel Monster cards. Jeanne was disgruntled by the state of all of us, and this showed in her increased agitation in our duels; her beatsticks became more prominent and her reliance on Tornado Wall vanished.

Jeanne eventually became so confident in her deck's strength that her driving frustration was replaced by a consuming need to win. She began talking about challenging the King of North Academy to a duel for his position—"and a fine Queen I shall make."

I thought her crazy as she gathered her resources and set about revamping her deck. Her afternoons were no longer spent beside a heater while doing homework, and were instead used to scout the island for hidden cards. By the time she was satisfied with her deck Ichinose allowed the students to switch to black or brown uniforms. Several versions existed for the males, while the King, Yuri Edogawa, was allowed his own custom design. I preferred the original blue and white outfit styled after the main branch's uniform (it appeared Johan shared my sentiment about the harshness of the colors black and brown). Jeanne switched to brown and customized her uniform so well I figured that she would do well to consider fashion design as a second career choice.

Then the day came in which Jeanne initiated the ceremony required to take the position of King; forty-nine duels against the top-ranking students and then a head-to-head duel against the current reigning King whose dominance one was trying to usurp.

Wallowing in jealousy of her talent, I didn't really care how far she got. I sat alonne and sulking near a precipice, watching the ocean as it moaned in a secret language, perhaps for a lost child. Such was the distress of the great beast that I failed to hear the approaching footfalls. When I finally did hear the crunching of the snow I whipped my head around to see Johan smiling down at me. That wasn't . . . Right. He was one of the top-ranking duellists, so why wasn't he facing Jeanne?, I wondered.

"Your friend is a good duelist," Johan stated pleasantly as he sat down about a meter away from me. His eyes were closed and his lips wereaught in an ever-frozen smile.

"Jeanne? Yes, she is."

"But aren't you worried about her? Something could happen."

"It's her fault if something happens to her. She is the one who wanted the title."

At this Johan frowned. I wish I had a camera, because I knew later I would doubt that this memory of his upended smile was authentic. "But she is your friend. She might need help, so shouldn't you be there for her?"

"What're you trying to do? Tell me how to make my decisions? If you want to live my life for me go ahead and switch me; I'm more than willing to give up this existence."

"Awww, come on. I'm sorry if I offended you. It's just that you seemed a bit lost."

"Oh, so now you are a shining beacon of moral purity guiding the rest of us sinful souls to righteous land? What is that you know about me, Johan?" I snapped. Narrowing my eyes I continued "shouldn't you be more worried about yourself? I mean, come on! You're the best duellist on this island yet they rank you below fiftieth best."

"Well, I don't really think that's for me, you know?" His response was cheerful and mild despite me, making me simmer with both annoyance and shame. "It's just not my goal to be ranked like that. And I don't think I could stand that type of duel where you duel to crush someone who is trying to take your spot."

I nodded slowly. What had I been thinking? Not only was he unfit for a such a competition, he was more out of place on this island than Jeanne with her designer boots and collection of cosmetics. People were destroyed and built up here, but Johan would not be subdued.

"Johan . . . I . . . Why're you here?"

"So I can master my duel!" he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

But what was the exchange rate?, I wondered. Maybe . . .

"All right, then. You're officially marked as touched in the head, but that is okay. Sanity is always relative."

"Yeah, sort of like ski—"

Johan was interrupted by a grinning Ikaku striding towards us. That was the first time I noticed his eyebrows . . . Can you say bushels of pampas? At least they appeared to be purposely styled . . . Somewhat.

"Johan! I have a question for you!" he shouted, in contest with the ocean below. I willed the waves to break harder and faster against our rugged island.

"Go ahead, Ikaku. Come and sit down."

Jeez, all we needed now was Jeanne and we could form a quartet. Ikaku could be alto, Jeanne and Johan could cover soprano, and I could massacre tenor. We would be the first choir in all of the Duel Academia's branches. All of them . . . all of them but I looked like possible showmen. Jeanne had the countenance to be an actress, Ikaku could probably be a lively personality on television or in the Pro Leagues, and Johan—well, he was Johan and had a beautiful countenance appropriate for a lot of things. I, however, was me, that little girl who always sat in the corner and spurned makeup and other "feminine" things because it made her feel rebellious and important. I submitted to my parents like a good daughter, but when it came to these issues I would drown in indecision until an incident in a washroom or at school cooled me down. Usually said incident was not a fight, nor involved me directly; girls would do an atrocious job on their blush or their skirts would fail to protect their modesty.

"And that, Ikaku, is your problem. You need to trust your deck more. Just let the trust come naturally, like a good friend."

Apparently I had missed his question in my musings. Not that I had cared . . .

"Thank you, Johan! All right, maybe now I won't fail as much."

"Mmm! Good luck!"

Ikaku sat up, dusted off his black uniform, and began walking away. I don't know why, but something clicked inside me and come on, he'll be an easy win became a relentless refrain in my mind. So, not really thinking, I lept up and strode towards him.

"Ikaku, hold up!"

"Hmm? Oh, you." He turned around took a few steps towards me, his face neutral. "Can I help you?"

"Heh, I wonder. I challenge you to a duel." And with that my Duel Disk awakened itself from stand-by mode, locking into place with a resounding click.

Ikaku looked confused at first, but then he got it. Once a challenged was offered, it was the rule of the island that one was obligated to meet it. Smirking, he declared "I accept! Duel!"

"What're you doing?" Johan asked as he approached us. There was that frown again, but he looked more bemused than anything.

"What am I doing? I'm dueling Ikaku so he can put your lesson to the test!"

Johan was not satisfied with this, the bemusement still lingering. "Right, then. Well, do your best and don't get hurt." He stepped back and became a distant spectator.

It was time to prove myself. My record really needed this win . . .

. . . And really didn't need my loss.

Jeanne wasn't doing any better when I trudged back to the girls' dorm, though she wouldn't tell me how far she had gotten into the challenge. She looked beaten and worn, her hair dishevelled and a line of bruises coloring her arm. "I fell," she explained when she saw my eyes lingering on that spot.

And nothing else was said on the subject.

As such, a certain gloom permeated my life. The attendance for the classes not directly involving duelling dropped drastically and we were assigned a ream of math homework to finish before the holiday break, now less than three weeks away.

I was able to tell that Jeanne, while still confident, had had something beaten out of her. Her soul maybe, for her actions became much more mechanical; homework was completed with an acute proficiency and she easily toppled me in our duels.

It became much colder at night during those final weeks before the first vacation. The heaters worked all day, but they just weren't powerful enough to fend off the pervading chill. Extra blankets were added to the beds and I acquired longjohns to wear underneath my uniform. At this point I was more concerned with living than how stupid I looked in the insulating underwear. I could have gotten a better color, of course, but if I caught pneumonia I wouldn't have to worry about how washed-out powder blue made my already-translucent skin look. Jeanne soon followed down the path to warmth, but she opted for another approach involving layering of jackets and wearing pants in addition to her stockings. Impossibly, she retained her shape and composure in such clothing. I admit that I was a surprised, if not a great deal jealous. To me it seemed that everything just worked for her because she was one of the lucky ones. Duelling skill, style, poise, confidence—she had it all in abundance and then some.

The last week before break saw a great number of events. Something shifted on our hiemal island, and everyone was ill-at-ease, including Johan who couldn't even sleep in class due to his jittery nerves. Birgit, the Norse nerd, put aside her contacts and adorned her face with thick glasses, hiding a good deal of her face and somehow managing to destroy the soft fullness of her cheeks. Jeanne was the worst, however. I had begun to suspect that she was a masochist, but these suspicions were obliterated when her sobs filled the cold void that ruled our dorm at night. When I knew she was broken something within me shattered. If she was defeated, how come someone like me was still standing?

I was sitting in my spot on that particular cliff observing the steely ocean when Johan found me on Wednesday that week. He sat down about two meters away and then sighed. Ignoring him, I closed my eyes and allowed the din of the ocean to invade my mind. Johan remained quiet and patient until finally I got annoyed and had to acknowledge his presence.

The first thing I noticed was that he looked very, very tired.

Something wasn't right.

"Johan . . . ? What in the world happened to you?"

"People need my help a lot. They ask me to meet them and sometimes they don't show up on time, so I have to wait a bit."

Or at all, I guessed. He was such a fool . . . My heart clenched and sympathy welled. Too sweet! Too trusting! I wanted to smack him and tell him to wake up or leave the island. For his own safety, of course, because I worried that he might one day be really hurt.

I then noticed the black and blue blob on his hand and almost cried out. Several of his finger joints were also bruised.

Johan . . . What could've happened to you? I knew that he would never tell me, but I still had to ask. I wasn't sure where the boundaries were—could he even draw boundaries?—so I gave myself free rein to point to his bruises and stare into his eyes. No profound secrets were exchanged between us but I knew I had his attention.

"Johan, what happened to you there?"

"There was an accident with a few people yesterday."

Could he have possibly been more vague?

"Johan, please tell me."

"Too much dueling." He now moved to hide his wounds, but his sleeves would not reach past his knuckles no matter how many adjustments he made. I felt betrayed by this display. Trying to will myself to indifference, I fought against my flaring frustration. But I was only a girl and by no means an adult (let alone a god).

"Johan, tell me! I'm concerned, dammit, so at least acknowledge that!" I snarled, my brow twitching as I stood up quickly. And to flaunt my abundant grace I ended up slipping and falling flat on my back.

I "cooled down" immediately, my belligerence shot.

Good maidens who lie down on their backs, echoed in my mind. It was a distant memory, something I read years ago. What had it been, Shakespeare? "Hamlet"? "Romeo and Juliet", perhaps . . .

Flushed now, I rolled over onto my stomach and pushed up using my hands. Johan watched me but didn't laugh. His mouth was formed into a straight line and his eyebrows were slightly slanted. I stood up, brushed the dirty snow and ice off the front of my clothing. Our eyes kept contact the entire time.

Then, quietly and nearly supplicating, "Johan, please tell me what has happened to you."

He considered me.

His mouth opened. Then he hesitated.

Waiting, deliberating, debating . . .

A word tumbled out and neither of us heard it.

"There was an accident. I fell down and used my hands to stop my head from hitting ice," Johan said simply without averting his gaze.

Was he really that averse to me? Did I repulse him so, him the boy who was as generous and gentle as a spring zephyr?

"Thanks for the notes. They really helped me."

Johan nodded. "Mmm. You're welcome." The smile was back in all its brilliant glory.

The art of smiling had to be his forte if it wasn't Duel Monsters. I didn't doubt his candor, but I did doubt his value of self.