The curtains on the ward were too thin. They blocked hardly any light from outside, and the slightest breeze from the open window caused the rings that held them to rattle. Fubuki swiftly swiped them aside and looked at the motionless figure in the raised bed. "I don't know how you can sleep like this, Yusuke."

The figure didn't move. Fubuki rested a hand on Yusuke's forehead and, satisfied with the temperature, pushed a sea-green wave of hair to the side with a gentle finger. He pulled up a chair and sat, resting his arms on the side of the bed and his head on his hands.

"How are you doing today?" Fubuki asked. "The doctor says there's no reason why you shouldn't wake up any day now. Perhaps that day's today, what do you think?"

The patient's chest rose and fell almost imperceptibly, the sound of breathing dwarfed by the insects outside.

"I met someone the other day." Fubuki reached out to lay his hand over the Yusuke's. "He's interesting. I think you'd like him. I do." He paused, waiting for a response that didn't come. The intravenous drip continued its glacial feeding undisturbed.

"Here's the thing, though, he had this card. A Darkness card." Fubuki's voice lost some of its volume and steadiness. "I didn't sense any malice, but… When Judai-kun was explaining to me what happened to you, he mentioned something similar. Does that mean anything to you? Darkness Neosphere?"

Fubuki waited a couple of minutes, but the sleeper remained inert, swept along only by the passage of time. Fubuki let out a long breath.

"It might be nothing, but I'll get a look at that card, find out if there's anything more where that came from that could help."

Breath in, breath out.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sure I could have done something. I didn't know… I thought I had only my own life to live…" Fubuki buried his head in the bedclothes, willing his eyes to stop smarting, and the linen to wick away any stray tears. He squeezed Yusuke's hand, harder than necessary. "I'll get you out of here. I promise. Whatever it takes."

After a while he stood, the chair scooting back with an uncomfortable screech, and pulled a card from his pocket. An armoured angel, a guardian of light, its wings tarnished and feathers shedding, stood golden against the night in a shadow of its former glory. "I've been holding on to this. It reminded me of you, before." Fubuki lifted the corner of the pillow and slipped the card underneath. "I guess it belongs with you, though."

Fubuki bowed down to drop a soft kiss on the unconscious man's forehead. "I'll see you again soon, Yusuke."


The newspaper smacked down on Chosaku Manjoume's second-best work desk, jolting his concentration.

"What now?" he growled at the intruder, looking up over the rim of his reading glasses. That Shoji Manjoume looked equally displeased gave him pause, and he set his pen aside.

"We've got a problem with Jun," said Shoji through gritted teeth, pointing a neat finger at the offending newsprint.

Chosaku unfolded the newspaper and scanned the headlines.

"Page nine," said Shoji. "At the bottom."

Chosaku glanced up. It didn't sound like a big deal if it was that far buried, but Shoji's face was set in grim study. Chosaku flicked to the right page and tracked down. "Manjoume Group heir stands to lose all," he read aloud, "in scandalous sex party? I don't see what's so bad about that, you have scandalous sex parties all the time. We'll just pay someone to write a counter-account and it'll blow over in a week."

"Yes, but I don't get photographed with a male stripper." The newspaper image was a little grainy. Shoji brought out his phone to show Chosaku the clearer image from the website which, helpfully, had a few more pictures. "That's definitely Jun."

"We'll say it's photomanipulated."

"Then, so are these?" Shoji dropped a manila envelope on top of the paper.

Chosaku turned it over. No postage, no addressee, no markings of any kind. "Blackmail?"

"It seems so," said Shoji. "This landed on my desk this morning with my daily post. It must have been hand delivered."

Chosaku slipped the photos from the envelope. It was clearly the stripper from the party, sat having a cosy meal with Jun. Affectionate, even. Chosaku had thought he'd beaten that out of Jun. Again, the photos were unmarked. There was something missing. "No demands?"

"Not yet, no." Shoji started pacing the length of the desk, back and forth. "My guess is they know how we operate, and this is just to let us know they're coming. They may already have worse, or they may be waiting for Jun to slip up."

Chosaku nodded. "That gives us time to work on finding out who they are."

"And telling Jun to cut this the fuck out."

"I'll handle it. You work on getting that article retracted."

"Yes, brother." Shoji delivered a curt bow and stormed swiftly out.

Chosaku counted slowly to ten and, on the final count, very purposefully punched the expensive Danish lamp off his desk.


There was a new pair of shoes in the entrance when Jun Manjoume arrived home. That wasn't in itself unusual, but the ladies his brothers normally invited back tended to prefer taller, slimmer heels, embellished with crystals or embroidery. These were plain, brown suede, with minimal fringing for a fuss-free appearance. Only the brand discreetly labelled inside the shoe gave away their true cost.

He put on his own slippers and divested himself of his jacket, slinging it over an arm, and slipped quietly through the house hoping to escape his brothers' notice until dinnertime.

It wasn't to be. The door to the dining room was wide open. Manjoume made the mistake of looking inside and made direct eye contact with Chosaku. His older brother was in smiling conversation with his guest, an efficiently turned-out woman in her fifties, but Manjoume felt that stare as a punch to his gut.

"Ah, Jun, the man of the hour," said Chosaku, standing to greet him, his tone and outstretched arm indicating that Jun would do exactly as he said or face the consequences. "Do come in. This is Honjo-san, she'll be joining us for dinner."

Jun bowed politely and reluctantly stepped over the threshold. He could see a number of files laid out on the table, photographs scattered on top. "A matchmaker? Are you getting married, brother?"

"No," said Chosaku, unsmilingly. "You are."

Jun's face contorted as his mind reeled. Unable to flee he slumped into the nearest chair. His brothers had talked about this before, but while they remained resolutely attached to the bachelor lifestyle he'd thought he was safe to act likewise. The presence of a guest in the home limited his possible retorts. "Now?"

"Not immediately," Honjo aimed a reassuring smile at Jun. "Your brothers and I have been discussing some possible candidates, checking for background, status, capability and so on. Looks, as well, although that's more subjective – it's up to you which one of the three you find most attractive." She slid three photos across the table towards him.

"I'm glad something is," muttered Jun.

"Of course, you understand the importance of family," said Chosaku. "We must have legitimate heirs to preserve the bloodline, and secure the future of the Manjoume Group."

"I don't see you rushing to tie the knot," said Jun. "And both you and Shoji are pushing marriageable age." He'd get a smack for that later.

"You would do well to think of your own situation," Honjo said to Chosaku. "Perhaps you'll let me have your own profiles once Jun-san is settled?"

"I will certainly consider it," said Chosaku, dismissively. "But we must see to Jun first."

"Of course," Honjo demurred.

"Look at the pictures, Jun."

The first was an elegant lady with waves of golden-blonde hair secured back with a jewelled tiara. She smiled gently at the camera, a faint blush on her cheeks.

"Princess Rose," said Honjo. "She's about your age. Foreign, but very good family, of course, and breeding does show."

"I'm surprised she hasn't been married already," said Chosaku. "She's got huge… tracts of land."

"Well," Honjo continued, with the lilt of a seasoned salesperson. "She does claim to be married, and to four princes simultaneously. However it seems she simply has a vivid imagination. There's no record of any official ceremony, and she herself says there's always room for one more prince. The Queen says the Princess may sadly have suffered mental trauma while in education at Duel Academia."

"She's a duelist?" Jun perked up at that.

"Quite a good one, as I understand," said Chosaku. "I imagine the marriage would present quite some opportunities for expanding the duelling arm of Manjoume Group internationally."

"Of course," said Honjo, straightening a little in her chair. "All the candidates have been selected to strengthen the Manjoume Group's position."

"What if I want to marry for love?" said Jun, thinking back to how it had felt to sit across the table from Fubuki and have his undivided attention.

"There's no such thing," said Chosaku.

Honjo gave him a chiding pat on the arm. "Love will come in time, with common interests and the support of family. By all means, have two or three dates before you make your decision."

"Two or three?" The words exploded unbidden from Jun's mouth. "Two or three dates to decide whether I can live with someone forever?"

"Why not?" said Honjo, smiling pleasantly. "You only have three years in high school to determine your lifelong career, after all. Take a look at the next picture, if you please."

"I don't please," Jun muttered, but he picked up the card anyway. The candidate was dressed in a suit and tie, the pink colour and unusual trim indicating designer officewear. She had red hair and a rather staid appearance, although her eyes seemed kind.

"Ah, another who's close to royalty," Honjo nodded. "Lynd is the private secretary of Prince Ojin, heir to the Kingdom of Misgarth."

"A secretary?" Chosaku scoffed. "Jun can do better than that."

"Don't dismiss her outright, please. She's the Prince's most trusted adviser and has his ear on many matters, including their spaceflight program, which is among the most advanced in the world."

Chosaku inclined his head as if literally seeing the bigger picture. "Broadcast networks. Defence systems. Power over stability of entire countries. And keeping an eye on the Kaiba Corporation's activities up there wouldn't do any harm, either."

"She would be a great acquisition for the Manjoume Group," agreed Honjo. "And a wonderful match for Jun, I'm sure. She's a little older than him but I'm given to understand the age gap would not be an issue for her."

"I'm still here," said Jun, while wishing he wasn't.

"Of course. What do you think, Jun-san?" said Honjo. "I understand the Prince himself is quite a duelist, if that would interest you."

"Then, where's his picture?" said Jun abrasively.

Honjo laughed. "We can't have that. Not if the goal is to produce heirs."

"The goal's not to make me happy, I can see that."

"Jun!" Chosaku bellowed across the table. "Behave yourself when you're in company."

"If you prefer someone who can challenge you," Honjo continued unabashed, "I recommend you consider the third candidate. Her name is Emeralda. She used to work as a coach for one-" Honjo checked her notes- "Edo Phoenix."

"Edo Phoenix?" Jun took a closer look at the photo. In a way she appeared similar to the previous candidate, immaculately presented in a suit, but where Lynd seemed to have spent her money on clothes, Emeralda seemed to have a dedication to beauty. The soft contouring couldn't offset the fierce lines of her expression.

"Yes. She's still with the Senrigan Group, but she's progressed through management and wishes to become a director. It would be a phenomenal achievement for a woman. Demonstrating commitment through marriage would bring her one step closer to that aim. Again, she is older, but her personality would be a very good fit for Jun."

"And we get out of it – a link to the Senrigan Group, paving the way for a takeover." Chosaku cupped his chin in thought.

"And a link to Edo Phoenix, if the duelling arm could make use of that," said Honjo, addressing Jun.

"I can guarantee that," said Manjoume, with the most enthusiasm he'd felt all night. Edo Phoenix was still a big draw with duel fans and celebrity watchers alike, while the Manjoume Group had yet to find its breakout star.

"Do you think you could see yourself with her?" Honjo asked. "You don't have to answer right away, of course. I can set up a meeting at your convenience."

"Yes, set up a meeting," said Chosaku before Jun could respond. "And soon, please."

Honjo bowed. "I will act with expediency. I'm pleased to note your interest, and I trust Emeralda-san will be likewise."

Jun sunk his head, feeling well and truly steamrollered.


After the meal, Chosaku saw Honjo to the door. Jun seized his opportunity and ran to his room, locking himself in the en-suite bathroom. It wasn't long before there was an imperious knock at the door. Jun turned the bath taps to full.

"Come out, Jun." Chosaku's voice easily drowned out the noise of rushing water.

"I'm tired and I'm taking a bath." Jun made no move to undress.

"Now, Jun." Chosaku hammered on the door.

"I can hear you fine from in here." Jun swung the window wide open and perched on the sill.

"If you won't be reasonable about this…"

"What's reasonable about going behind my back to marry me off?" Jun shouted. "And what if I'm already seeing someone?"

"If indeed." From under the door, a plain manila envelope skidded across the tiles. "You'll break it off, and have nothing more to do with this… person."

Jun slipped off the windowsill and padded hesitantly over, holding a hand over the envelope as if waiting for it to snap at him. The light under the doorframe shifted as Chosaku paced. Jun tentatively took hold of the envelope and peeked inside. He snapped it shut quickly. "You have someone following me around now?"

"No, Jun." Chosaku sighed. "That's the problem. Do you think I care about your dangerous little liaisons? I didn't. Not at all. Until someone else made it my business."

"What's wrong with me seeing him? He seems nice."

"Oh, I'm sure he seems that way. But you're a Manjoume, don't forget. No-one's going to be interested in you personally. Everyone is interested in what you can do for them, with your money, or your influence, or your status."

"He's not like that." Jun hurled the envelope at the door, where it made an unsatisfying slap and fell.

"You'll find out eventually. We all want something, Jun. Isn't it better to be open about such things? I only want what's best for you." Chosaku's tone softened, becoming not unkind.

"And I should only want what's best for the family." Jun turned off the taps and knelt by the bath, resting his head on the side.

"I'm glad we understand each other."

Jun listened carefully. There was silence for a couple of minutes, and then a shuffling of feet as Chosaku left. Jun breathed a long and heavy sigh and tip-toed over to pick up the envelope again.

The pictures appeared to have been taken from a building opposite the restaurant. They were all the same angle, apart from when he and Fubuki were arriving. Jun's back had been to the camera while they were sat down. He flicked through, trying to analyse for reflections or other clues, but Fubuki's presence was distracting even in pictorial form. He found himself stopping to focus on a smile, or the way Fubuki gazed at his dining partner seemingly enthralled. Jun looked around surreptitiously, though he was alone in the bathroom, folded one of the pictures, and slipped it into his wallet.