A/N: Thank you for all the faves/follows and reviews last chapter! I'm glad people like this fic so far. Also, I write Takeru very rough. He WAS a thug before he met Flame. He's the embodiment of the "What up, I'm Jared, I'm 19, and I never fucking learned how to read" vine.


Takeru half-expected a final remark from Ryoken, so when the man ended the call a split second after Takeru stopped talking, he recoiled at the deadpan of the reception dropping. He lowered the sleek (most definitely newest model) smartphone and sort of just stared at it for an extra second before slipping it back into the pocket of his slacks.

This was... definitely not what Takeru thought would be the first thing he would experience after he regained consciousness. To be fair, there were a lot of things he wouldn't be able to expect, but waking up on a yacht, in the body of a person he didn't know, and receiving a call from his own phone number definitely took the cake for unexpected.

"I'll take scenarios that you couldn't make up even if you tried for 1000, Alex," he muttered to himself, laughing bitterly at his own joke. He still wasn't used to hearing Revolver's voice whenever he spoke, and the low rumble of a laugh just felt discordant against his ears.

He was sitting on a semi-carpeted floor with his back against a king-size bed. Takeru didn't even need to look around to know that this bishounen-looking twink had more money than he could ever dream of using. Kogami Ryoken had a fortune at his fingertips and Takeru was barely paying his train fare on a weekly basis. Maybe he would have to transfer some money over to his own bank account before they switched back.

Takeru's eyes caught a mirror hanging on one of the adjacent walls. He got to his feet using the support of the bed, and once he was standing, he realized just how much his back and waist hurt from the 90 degree angle that Ryoken left his body at before going to Link VRAINS. Wasn't this guy supposed to be really smart or something? Even Takeru, everyone's favorite local dumbass, could have figured out that being on the god damn king-size bed would have been better than sitting against it.

With a slight hunch and a hand pressed against his back to try and alleviate the pain, he made his way across the room. Takeru dreaded whenever he was to get old because this pain was unbearable. It was solacing to know that these aches would fade, but living with them, knowing that they won't just go away after a night's rest? Scary.

Reaching the mirror, Takeru found himself staring at his own reflection. Ryoken had fair skin, a sharp chin, and strong neck bones. Then there was his neatly-combed white hair, shorter spikes jutting backwards with indigo highlights.

He ran his fingers through the hair, a slight grimace on his face. "There's no way this isn't dyed - it looks like a fuckin' snowman threw up up there..."

Takeru recomposed himself after a quick chuckle, taking notice of how piercing Ryoken's clear blue eyes were. He drew the connection to the second Revolver avatar and its similar eyes, but these were the real deal. And, just like his avatar, Ryoken had very long eyelashes, Takeru only now noticing as he was examining his face. The man definitely did skin treatment and makeovers when he wasn't doing something VRAINS related. There was no way he looked like this without any touch-ups.

Looking past his sharp nose - "He could use this as a weapon!" - he ran his eyes over Ryoken's slim figure. Pink v-neck, which Takeru could give the man credit for wearing, a casual gray suit jacket, black slacks, and gray loafers. Yep, Ryoken definitely had money and Takeru was already brainstorming possible password combinations for Ryoken's bank account.

While he was absentmindedly debating on whether looking at his reflection meant checking Ryoken out, there was a flurry of knocks at the door to the bed room.

"Ryoken-sama!"

Takeru nearly jumped a foot into the air. There was somebody else here? Oh no no no no no, he wasn't prepared to impersonate Ryoken -

The door all but flew open, revealing Spectre, who Takeru remembered being Revolver's right hand man. The teen wore an expression of panic and concern, but at seeing Takeru standing in front of the mirror perfectly fine, it faded into a look of "I knew you'd be okay all along".

Takeru was about to address Spectre by name but held his tongue. There was no way Spectre was the guy's actual name. But Takeru had no clue what the Hanoi Knight's name might have been, so he would just have to play it by ear and act natural.

"I'm glad to see you're well," Takeru lowered his voice slightly because Ryoken seemed like the kind of guy that would lower his voice enough to pitch in a rumbling baritone. He let a small smile pull at his lips and he raised his eyebrows hoping to give the connotation of relief. Ryoken would have been relieved to see his friend well, especially after his defeat to Lightning. "Did you just regain consciousness?"

"About three minutes ago." Spectre held his hands behind his back and Takeru reflexively straightened his own posture to match the former's. Ryoken definitely seemed like the kind of person that would stand up as straight as possible to make himself look taller and more intimidating. "I had to make sure I was really alive before checking on you."

Takeru tried to keep his own emotions from showing as he thought over Spectre's words. Ryoken sure was lucky, having someone like Spectre that was willing to bend over backwards for him and be ready at his beck and call. He wondered if Ryoken considered Spectre a friend or something more along the lines of a comrade and an underling. Whatever the answer was, Takeru was sure that Ryoken-sama was taking his dear Spectre for granted.

"... Thank you." Takeru shut his eyes with a small smile. He could give Spectre the appreciation he probably deserved because he was technically Kogami Ryoken right now. He could also disband the Knights of Hanoi right now if he really wanted to, but he was sure that Ryoken would dive head-first into the ocean, swim to wherever the hell this boat even was, and strangle Takeru with his own two hands.

Spectre took a bow with his own smile. "Anything for you, Ryoken-sama."

Takeru noted that Spectre wore a similar gray suit jacket. From what Takeru could remember from rebroadcasts of the duels before the Tower of Hanoi, Spectre had loved the Lost Incident because he felt like he had a purpose, leading him back to the Knights of Hanoi after he was rescued. To him, Ryoken was his savior and Spectre had dedicated his life to serving him. Spectre must have elected a similar dress to his beloved Ryoken, or perhaps Ryoken had given the plant duelist a spare jacket.

For the first time since waking up, Takeru noticed the clawing of hunger in his stomach. When was the last time Ryoken had eaten? ... How long had they all been in VRAINS? Based on the amount of duels they had versus Lightning's group, it had to have been more than half a day. Or maybe it wasn't that long and Takeru was just bad at math.

"Is there anything to eat?" He asked tentatively. This definitely wouldn't be in character for Ryoken - or at least, what Takeru thought would be in character for Ryoken - but he was extremely hungry.

Spectre blinked those doe-like turquoise eyes at him and Takeru was sure he had made some mistake, but the former gave a small, subtle bow. "Kyoko and I will take care of it."

Spectre left, closing the door behind him, and Takeru stood still, rooted in fear, at the prospect of another person being here. Kyoko? Who was that? Spectre was doable because Takeru knew what to expect and he knew how the former viewed Ryoken. But Takeru had no plan for this Kyoko person. They must have been a Knight of Hanoi.

Takeru thought back on the recordings he had binged after his "reincarnation" with Flame. Revolver's most trusted Knights were Spectre, Faust, Genome, and Vyra. Kyoko was a woman's name so... Vyra? Yeah, that made sense.

Well, he was stuck here until Spectre came back to fetch him. He had no desire to explore the boat and possibly have to interact with Kyoko prematurely. He might as well gather some intel for Yusaku for the time being.

He sat down with his back to the mirror and retrieved Ryoken's phone from his pocket. The lock screen was a picture of a young Ryoken with who he assumed was his father. Takeru's hand gripped the phone tighter out of reflex at seeing Kogami, the one who had ruined his life through the Lost Incident, but he took a deep breath and decided against throwing the phone across the room. It was Ryoken's phone and the picture must have served as a reminder of his goals as Revolver.

Takeru stared at the picture for a beat too long before swiping the screen up. He was met by the lock demanding a password, and he almost gave up then and there before the phone recognized his fingerprint. He sighed in relief. This wasn't going to be as difficult as he thought it would be.

Ryoken was... a minimalist, to say the least. For his apps, there was the phone, messaging, emails, some debugger apps that must have helped with hacking, and a notepad. Oddly, Takeru figured that Ryoken wouldn't have an excess of applications and would probably just use his phone for communication. Something irked him about the lack of personalization. Although, it wouldn't hurt to go through his texts, would it?

Takeru was miffed when Ryoken's texts consisted of messages to the other Knights containing either yes's, no's, confirmations, and random strings of code that Takeru couldn't even begin to understand. Okay, maybe this wasn't difficult to find, but this wasn't any secret information that he could have given Yusaku or threatened Ryoken with in general.

With his finger hovering over the notepad app, Takeru hesitated. What was he even doing? He expected Ryoken to respect his privacy, so why was he going through Ryoken's stuff? This was wrong. This was extremely wrong and Takeru found himself shutting the phone off and pocketing it before his thoughts caught up to him.

There was a pair of knocks before the door creaked open and Spectre stepped back into the room. "Ryoken-sama...?" He eyed Takeru with a slightly confused look at seeing the Hanoi leader sitting on the floor, back pressed up against the mirror. "The food... The food is ready."

Takeru pressed his lips together, screaming internally, and tried not to fall apart on the spot. "Thank you," he stood up with as much grace as he could and walked to stand beside Spectre. Takeru noted that Ryoken was taller than him and Spectre. Although he detested any time he spent in Ryoken's body, he could get used to these extra few inches.

Spectre gave a practiced smile before leading the way to the dining area. Takeru followed behind and glanced around in awe at the innards of the yacht. The hallway they were walking through was definitely larger than Takeru's entire bed room back home. There were exquisite paintings hung along the walls and there were doors, which Takeru assumed led to the rooms of the other Knights.

Takeru recalled Spectre mentioning Kyoko. Did that mean Faust and Genome weren't here? And if they weren't, where were they? Takeru briefly wondered if he could find the answer in Ryoken's messages, but he trashed the thought instantly at remembering the pattern of Ryoken's texts. Maybe he would have to call the man that was currently in his body sometime later and get a recap.

When they approached the dining area, Takeru noticed a redhead - Kyoko, he deduced - facing the stove with her back to them. Hearing footsteps, she turned around and her gray eyes met Takeru's with a soft look of concern.

"Ryoken-sama," she offered a small bow. "I'm sorry about how things went with the Light Ignis." She returned to scraping the contents of the frying pan onto a disposable paper plate, her back turned to him and Spectre. "At least Playmaker won against Bohman and thing's are finally back to normal."

Not trusting his tongue, he gave a noncommittal "hmph," and he hoped that Ryoken would have given a similar response. From the sound of it, Revolver must have dueled and lost to Lightning. The man seemed to be a prideful person, so a subordinate bringing up what must have been a sore loss might have evoked such a response. Takeru was just playing everything by ear and hoping that Spectre and Kyoko would give cues and he could just lie his way through conversations until Ryoken figured out how to switch them back.

"Yaki gyoza?" Takeru asked, not hiding the surprise in his tone. It couldn't have been more than twenty or thirty minutes since he told Spectre that he was hungry. He was astounded by Kyoko's efficacy as a chef.

Kyoko gave a small smile. "I had everything premade. I just had to cut and fill the dough."

Glancing back to Spectre, Takeru noticed the wavering of his fake smile. Something had to have been wrong. Was Kyoko a bad cook? Or maybe Spectre wasn't a pork person? Whatever it was, at least he knew that Ryoken had a good taste in food and they weren't total opposites.

Takeru took a seat at the table, noting the unbroken chopsticks and a filled glass of water next to his plate. Ryoken was really living the life here. Takeru would have had to drag himself out of bed and make his own food if he was in his own body. Maybe Ryoken would learn some modesty through the horrible predicament they were currently in.

Spectre stood obediently behind Takeru's chair with his hands behind his back. Takeru turned his head and looked past his shoulder with a soft smile. "You're free to join me, you know."

Spectre blinked twice and Takeru was sure he had screwed it up. He had probably read their dynamic wrong and Spectre really was just an underling-

"Thank you, Ryoken-sama, but I am not one for gyoza." His voice was as proper as Takeru remembered it. "But I suppose you could catch me up on everything that happened after I lost my duel against the Light Ignis."

"Right," Takeru mumbled, letting his eyes land on the plate Kyoko was serving so Spectre wouldn't see his internal panic. He tried to collect his own thoughts and piece together a timeline of everything that happened. "Well, Soulburner defeated the Wind Ignis," he tried not to think about Windy and what he did to Flame as he continued, "and Blue Maiden lost to Bohman. Then Playmaker fought against Kusanagi Shoichi, and Soulburner lost against Bohman..."

He used his chopsticks to bring a dumpling onto his plate. Truthfully, the last thing he remembered before waking up in Ryoken's body was Flame's death and his own body disintegrating into data. He figured that Revolver dueled Lightning and Playmaker dueled Bohman, but if he was asked for specific details, he had no clue and would have to completely bullshit his way through a conversation.

Spectre was, without a doubt, an expert in Ryoken's body language and speech mannerisms. He didn't press on about Ryoken's duel with Lightning, and Takeru ate each bite of gyoza with persistent anxiety that Spectre was going to expose him for who he actually was. He must have had at least the teensiest, tiniest suspicion about "Ryoken".

Kyoko spoke after swallowing her own bite of dumpling. "What is your plan from here?"

Takeru nearly choked on the pork and chives in his mouth. Plan? He had no plan. Ryoken would have had a plan, but he wasn't Ryoken - well, he was, but he wasn't - and he certainly didn't have any plan ready for him to divulge into.

On the spot, he recalled Go Onizuka and Blood Shepherd. They were both working for SOL Technologies and out for the Ignis. That seemed plausible enough for a split second excuse.

He frowned, faking an expression of uncertainty. "Investigating SOL Technologies. We'll see where that takes us, but I want to figure out what their hidden hierarchy has planned."

Takeru was actually pulling this all out of his ass. He figured that a shady corporation would have people working in the shadows - why else would they hire bounty hunters? - so it should seem feasible enough. And if he was onto something, he could share his impromptu plan with Yusaku and Kusanagi.

Kyoko held her chopsticks, tapping the ends against her plate in contemplation. "Hm. We would have to act fast if we were to go through with that - especially with SOL in shambles, trying to relaunch VRAINS."

"The sooner we start the better," Spectre nodded, wholeheartedly agreeing with Takeru. "We should call Aso and Genome back."

Takeru nodded in response. He had no idea where Aso and Genome were. He also had no clue how to do any hacking or investigating into this theoretical underground network of SOL Technologies.

Sadly, he had a phone and the ability to call his own number. Takeru despised the idea of relying so heavily on Ryoken, but he really had no choice right now.

He excused himself with the alibi of calling Aso and Genome, leaving the dining area and roaming the long hallways. He may or may not have taken a few wrong turns and ended up lost, but he eventually found the deck, late afternoon March winds breezing around him. The strong smell of saltwater reminded him of home and sitting on the pier edges with Kiku, feet dangling above the waves.

He took in a deep breath and pushed his memories back. He hoped that Ryoken would fix this soon. He wanted his life back and it had probably only been an hour or so since he had woken up in the wrong body. An hour was already way too long. How would he survive as Ryoken for an indefinite period of time?

Takeru pulled the phone from his pocket with a sense of urgency, suppressed his anger at seeing Ryoken's lock screen again, and began dialing his own number.