Disclaimer: I don't own 5ds or The Mortal Instruments.

Marks of Death

Third Person's POV

You can't ask me to do this!

Kiryu, you must.

Thinking I've killed you once is enough!

Kiryu.

You can't just give up! That's not like you!

I will never give up on my bonds Kiryu.

Then fight! Don't ask this of me!

There is no other option.

No other—?

None. Aki has already died for this.

… Aki has…?

Then you…?

Oh, Yusei…

Kiryu… please.

… Not you, Yusei, this shouldn't be you…

Garage

Bruno sucked at sneaking out, and sucked even worse at understanding the two left in the garage. Although they had long since turned in, neither was asleep, one locked in an insomniac war with the breeze whispering through his drapes, the other doing the last thing he would had ever thought himself capable of: pouring over a book.

And as predicted, he was bored as a plank.

After spending the better part of the afternoon flipping through it, the words began to spill from his mind, the faces distort, and the technical sketches drip off the page, each passing of tide bringing him right back to the thickest volume of all three life chapters; the witch's bloody portrait and the overlapping symbol in the background.

Hours of spent locked in his room staring at the image had illuminated all of three things to the redhead: 1) The image was glued into the sketchbook, 2) It smelled, and 3) He had no freaking idea what he was supposed to find from it.

Unable to vent out his frustration in the shout that was dying to be released, he smacked his forehead with his open palm, attempting to bring the page back into focus as it winked in and out. All willpower not directed towards that was stopping him from chucking the thing out the window in a cruddy attempt to get rid of the evidence that would incriminate his friend.

"But it could save him too," he groaned lowly to no one in particular, resting his chin on the thin covers. The witch that Aki had pretended to be and that, for a short section in his story, Yusei had believed in grimaced at him from the page, the natural scarlet sheen from the dried blood unnerving and blurring under the strain of the moon.

The weak light pouring in through his window had long since stopped being enough to see by, and although he had heard Bruno's hasty attempt to sneak out of the garage, he felt no urge to get up and turn on his light now that there was no one left to see it. Jack's room was around the bend in the hallway, and thus completely out of disturbances way, so the only thing that was stopping him from reading further were these sheets, so soft and fuzzy, tickling his chin as his hands sagged over the page, almost like the familiar brush of grass…

The moist wind played softly with his hair, whispering through the bouquet lying serenely against the stone…

Tops Manor

"Ruca?"

She made no move to reply, simply curled up around the pillow she clutched tighter, seeking the comfort in its downy that her parents had neglected to give her all her life. The harsh light from the flickering television seemed to drain the life from her already pale face, her throat ravaged from attempting to swallow the sharp words from the screen.

"Ruca?" he repeated, hopping over the back of the couch with mild difficulty, plopping down beside her in a move that usually had her up and startled, ready to reproach and rechecking her pigtails. The eyes that matched his simply flickered up to his fading grin and back to the television, her lips forming a wordless command.

A little freaked out, he turned away from his twin to do as she wished, wondering what kind of news story had gotten her so worked up now. Yusei was already in a bunch of trouble, so really, what worse could happen? He wasn't dead, they'd know that from Ruca's mark for sure, and Yusei was way too super-cool to die. And anyways, Ruca had even admitted that she hadn't felt anything from Aki last night when she supposedly died, and now that her body was missing… that meant she was alive right, with Yusei, trying to sort this mess out?

"How can someone just lose a body?"

Too young to understand his folly, he hit the 'replay' option on the remote, noting that Ruca had recorded this for some reason or another. He was already forming a pep speech for his sister when it began, and it was only when the anchorwoman warned that some things in the footage may be inappropriate for children did it fully catch his attention.

So Ruca saw something freaky?

Before the thought could finish itself, the blonde ex-reporter vanished from the screen, in its place a strange tape with a title and sequence below it that knocked all the wonderment from his heart.

Arcadia Movement

Room 314: Izayoi Aki

March 28th

(Three years ago)

It was a simple room with four light peach walls, a mahogany bed with a tattered cloak spread across the covers, a few end tables, and a maroon couch, on which a man slept, his face hidden underneath the crook of his arm. His leg was elevated on the armrest, his slumber troubled and fretful, and in the corner of the room Divine stood in silent observation, making no move to help.

Beside him, Aki towered in her full Black Rose Witch garb, her posture rigid and unwelcoming in the confining space. "You should have let him die," she accused suddenly, hunching more into herself as the man on the bed muttered something about witches. The card in her hand trembled as she drew it, "I'll finish the job myself."

Suddenly fearing he was about to see his sister figure commit murder, Rua made a grab for the remote, only to have his sister snatch it away and shake her head slowly, touching his hand and calming him without words. They continued to watch.

Divine smiled down at his protégé in amusement, noting, "He saved your life and this is how you wish to repay him?" She had no response to this, instead lowering her weapon and pointing her masked face in his direction. "Regardless, Aki, he seems to be a psychic as well, and I will not turn anyone called a monster onto the streets."

She looked away, the scowl muddying her features clear even past the mask. "I'll get some new bandages then," she announced, abruptly marching out of the room without so much of a curt goodbye. He nodded as if in approval, but when her door shut a troubled look appeared on his face and he wondered, "Is this man making her think for herself?"

"Who are you?"

The elder psychic turned sharply back towards the couch; concealing his alarm when he found a face he couldn't identify glaring back, very much conscious and dangerous in spite of the injury marring his right leg. Realizing that he must have been awake for a long while now and simply waiting for Aki to leave the room, Divine bowed his head to show he meant no harm and answered, "My name is Divine, and I'm the head of the Arcadia Movement, a home for all psychic duelists."

"Like your girlfriend there, right?" the young man replied, sitting up and swinging his uninjured leg across his lap absently. "Aren't you a little too old for her anyway? Wait, let me guess"—he interrupted both himself and Divine as he made movements to correct him—"she has Daddy issues."

Surprise was a quick flash in Divine's green eyes as the teen came close to the truth before he stashed the emotion away, determined to take control of the situation, "You're mistaken, I'm afraid. My Black Rose Witch is grateful that you saved her from Security, so she's allowed you to stay in her room while you recover. I'm here because I've heard the rumors that you may be a psychic duelist."

"If her gratitude is wanting to kill me I'd hate to see her anger."

It was obvious at this point that the victim on the bed was not paying attention, preferring to look around the room and stick his hands in his pockets as if searching for something. A frown graced his unknown features as the duelist barreled on, taking his silence as a defense mechanism that needed to be broken down.

"The Arcadia Movement is a home for all lost Psycho Duelists who are in need, and I would like to welcome you into it," Divine finished, wrapping up the speech when his guest glanced back up at him.

"So I can be your Shadowhunter? No thanks," he drawled, coming close to the smooth pitch of the older man's voice. Finally concluding that whatever he was looking for was lost, he moved on to examining the bandaged wound on his leg, adding one last comment. "That's weird."

Mildly taken aback by the abrupt dismissal, but unperturbed, he asked, "What?"

The teen's eyes were cold as he looked up, fingering the bloodied fabric, "The Arcadia Movement causes wounds, not heal them. You've got Security wrapped around your finger. You could kidnap the Senator's daughter if you want to."

An uneasy silence stretched between them as the Shadowhunter continued to work at the bandages covering his wound, Divine reevaluating his tactics and coming in with a harder route. These little jabs towards his witch put an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach, something he had not felt for a very long time, and he was uncertain whether or not these small blows were fact or fiction in the teen's mind.

Yet it was pointless to refute the statement made if the criminal before him was as certain as his tone suggested, and all that was left to do was to appeal to the possibility that he didn't give a damn about it anyway.

"Some of my guests do stir up trouble," he shrugged, taking a slow step towards the couch, "and it's true that the Director won't touch us. You've had trouble with authority yourself, haven't you, Shadowhunter?"

Attention was gained once more, this time with caution and a biting tongue, eyes narrowed, "I don't need an amateurs' help."

"They have footage you know," Divine continued, ignoring the warning signs in his captive's tensed muscles. He knew the physical limits of the man and his own power very well, not to mention that the man was deck-less and thus no threat at all. "Of you jumping that man in the alley. Killing him."

A little smirk was drawn from the comment. "And you think that was the only one? I can handle myself." Then, tittering to himself slightly, "I've got friends in higher places."

"In Security?" Divine questioned, now at the foot of the makeshift bed, pressing one palm into the back of it and staring down at the man, his shadow engulfing the Shadowhunter entirely. In spite of the intimidating appearance, he simply gave a nasty laugh and rebuked, "Like you and your precious witch? Covering up property damage, a few broken bones, a lost criminal or two? Why would they shoot at me if I had pull over them? Why would they risk hitting your protected witch if they were with me?"

Divine's answer was the frustrated smile plastered on his face and the abrupt change in topic, "How did you escape with my Witch and end up on my rooftop?"

"You're not very good at this whole interrogation thing, are you?" he asked, content with staring up at the man in his failed attempt to appear domineering. At the slight flush coloring the man's cheek, he recognized a weak point and pushed further, "You think you've got this whole place locked up tight, that woman especially, Aki, did you call her? You said it yourself. She's only here because she's got no where else to go."

"Daddy issues?" Divine repeated wryly, earning a lazy grin from the man below him.

"There you go, you're catching on," he encouraged with an almost vampiric gleam in his teeth. He stretched out his arm until his back cracked, his fingers brushing against the man's overcoat before continuing, "So what happens when these issues go away? When some highly attractive young man sweeps her off her feet and steals her away from you? When someone takes a bullet for her and proves that not everyone thinks she's some kind of monster?"

Divine eyed the bullet wound that had ripped through the Shadowhunter's leg, but was otherwise unruffled. "Aki will stay. You won't change that."

The grin received in return was monumental, "I already have."

The desired effect was the lost on the psychic, who was determined to bring things back into his corner. Pulling out the simplest of the aces in his hole, he blew a stream of air from his lips and sighed, "How long are you going to keep up this charade?"

He blinked a few times, although the snarl hidden in his eyes subtracted from his aloof appearance. "Excuse me?"

"If you were really as much of an asshole as you trying to convince me you are," Divine elaborated with a bored tone, "then you wouldn't have gone through all you did to make sure Aki stayed alive, someone you don't even know."

"What did she tell you?" he wondered, eyes slit in guarded confusion. "She's not making up knight-in-shining-armor stories, is she? I've got a reputation to maintain."

"And that's my point."

The Shadowhunter made an exasperated noise, "You make as much sense as card games on motorcycles."

Taking a chance, Divine knelt from his commandeering position so that he rested leisurely at the end of the couch, giving the wild teen a sympathetic glance and keeping his arms open, legs uncrossed. "The fact that you have to keep up a reputation is my point. The fact that you don't have a name of your own, that you hide your face, that you reject that you're a psychic, and that you haven't even asked anything about how you ended up here or how long it's been—they all prove that you're just clinging to some mask to try and protect something."

Though the humor had drained from his face, the Shadowhunter's eyes remained cold, his tone light, "Well aren't you the pot calling the kettle black."

Ignoring him once more, Divine continued, making sure to keep his voice low and welcoming as if addressing a frightened animal; for he fully believed that this teen would behave as such, the wrong word sending off more verbal attacks to deflect him from the truth. "You saved my Witch's life when it was an inconvenience to you. Surely someone like yourself must have people at home waiting for you?"

"And you're a saint among men, taking in the misunderstood, absolutely Divine," he drilled off back, fighting to keep himself relaxed when the man smiled, "surely you've got more than just a lovesick teenager following you around."

"So you have no one?" Divine smiled, and it was not entirely an unpleasant sight, his face still soft from assurance that he would succeed in any plans he may carry; the folly of empowered youth. "I'm here for you, I care about you."

Mocking horror twisted across the blurred face before him, mouth falling open in apparent disgust, "I wasn't offering! I have a strict policy against commitment to psychos with no soul!"

"Come now," he insisted gently, holding out his long, thin hand to the bristling teen before him. "You can trust me, I'd do nothing to hurt you. I'd be the one protecting you and you'd have a family with all the others here. You don't need to fight for yourself anymore. You can give yourself a name. You can drop that mask."

While this speech had on numerous occasions caused tears and sobs and smiles like the sun to burst from his recruitments, had made people leap into his arms or accept him with a hearty handshake, it did nothing but amuse the man before him.

"For one," he replied, staring at the hand as if it were coated in saliva, "Hell no. For two, seeing as you've done such a great job protecting Aki, I'll bet my soul I'd go nuts after two days in here. For three, I'm not a psychic."—he held up his middle finger when Divine meant to interrupt, adding hastily—"For four, I'm no duelist you moron."

"Then why was this on your person when Aki dragged you down here?" he questioned, reaching for his coat pocket and pulling up empty, a flummoxed expression crossing his face. Hastily, he patted the several other pockets of his coat, attempting to continue his calm outlook while he remained harried within. The Shadowhunter watched him fumble with rapidly growing amusement, face changing from defensive to at ease once more, his element regained.

"Looking for this?"

It really shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did to see the silver card dangling between those quick fingers, but Divine couldn't help but splutter, "How did…?" Then suddenly remembering the light brush of the man's fingers against his coat when he had stretched, his mouth snapped shut and his confidence was back, "So you're a thief as well?"

"Taking lives is my specialty," he agreed, twirling the card back towards the camera in an obvious attempt at pissing the other off, "taking other things is more of a hobby."

"So who did you take Stardust Dragon from then?"

While Rua's chest sudden felt as if a frost had come over it, becoming more and more sensitive to the excruciating cold with every passing second.

The scene cut away abruptly, the blond reporter beginning to fill in details for those who were thickly oblivious of the scandal that was the Fortune Cup semi-final duel last year. "Stardust Dragon is the ace card of Fudo Yusei, winner of the fortune cup, and he was recorded using this beast in his match against Izayoi Aki, Jack Atlas, and Team Unicorn in this last WRGP match."

Her face was hardly impassive under the lights of the studio; nearly glowing as she relayed the story of her career to the two small children watching in silent horror, frostbite sinking hard into their limbs, leaving them immobile.

Angela wrapped up, gesturing towards a second clip that appeared beside her. "Further evidence has come to light with the decoding of the Arcadia Movement's video files about the relationship between Fudo Yusei and Izayoi Aki, which is often speculated about due to Ms. Izayoi's complete change of heart after the Fortune Cup, along with a hasty pardon from Director Goodwin shortly before his death."

Her cryptic pause seemed to suggest some foul play in that matter as well, however, she relinquished her spot to the old security tapes once more.

The Shadowhunter fiddled with the large balcony window hastily, the lock escaping his grasp due to his injured hands. Glaring silently at the peeled skin as if wondering how it had happened, he dragged his leg back to the couch, gingerly laying himself down as the door clicked open, allowing Aki to enter in her mask, clutching a roll of bandages as if they were the only things stopping her from hitting him.

"Why am I in this room if it bothers you so much?" he wondered, sitting up as if for the first time in hours, for some reason hiding the fact that he had been messing with her window. Not bothering to answer, she marched to her bed and threw his cloak to the ground, glaring at him as if expecting him to pick it up.

"Cover your eyes, I need to change."

After an amused pause he leaned forward, cupping a hand over his face as if pulling away a mask, "Show me yours and I'll show you mine."

The next moment found the roll of bandages aimed at his face, which he caught with no problem in his stained hands, grunting slightly at the smarting pain. "Can't take a joke at all, can you, Aki?"

"Don't call me that," she snapped, tearing off her large concealing cloak and stuffing it in the bottom of her closet, uncaring if it wrinkled under her few articles of clothing. The view inside was dark and empty, a single school uniform and three dark magenta outfits were all the girl had to call her own. Slamming the door shut with more force than necessary, she made a grab at her gloves only to stop abruptly, turning to him as if revealing her arms was an intimate act.

"You're right, much too familiar," he agreed, "can't have your boyfriend getting jealous can we?"

Denying nothing, she scooped up his cloak and marched towards him, shoving it over his head and declaring, "Look and die."

The fabric vibrated as he chuckled heartily, pointing out, "You're too brainwashed to even think about going against your master's wishes."

Her teeth clicked together this time, the sound of rustling clothing disguising whatever insult she had hissed back at him. Yet he had heard whatever it was, judging by the sudden cruel laughter that escaped from his mouth. The twins stared, transfixed, as Aki made her way to the window, tugging the dress to her feet to retrieve her pajamas, all the while keeping her elbow-length gloves firmly in place.

She paused as she slipped into the nightgown, staring cross-eyed at her reflection in her window, or more specifically, the red-stained lock that Divine had insisted she install the second she had dragged him from the roof, unconscious and barely breathing. Casually, she slid the cotton over her curves, turning to judge him as he silently waited for her to finish, obviously not peeking in spite of his jeers.

His feet were propped up on the end table Divine had made his monsters move around earlier, a few papers wrinkled and warped as if left to air dry after becoming wet. A quick glance outside confirmed it was sprinkling enough to distort them if brought outside and she had to ask,

"Have you looked at the papers Divine gave you?"

"And write my name in blood?" he replied, bending over himself to snatch the papers, ignoring the blindness inflicted upon him by the heavy clothing. His strong fingers held them up with no problem, revealing his somewhat curious observation skill and a much more gruesome side of his joke. "But I took the kindness to renew your application."

She froze as she stared into the image he had painted with his own blood, urging him to risk peeking out from under the cloak, revealing that he too was no longer smiling. Her mouth worked with unheard words, eyes wide behind her plaster wall, heart hammering loud enough for everyone in the room to hear as she stared into her own face, the features she had worked so hard to hide over the years, the sight that had been so casually drawn with painstaking detail onto the back of the Arcadia information sheet.

Finding her voice, she managed to choke, "You think this is a joke?"

"I'm not laughing," he replied softly, sounding perfectly honest for the first time since he had grabbed her and leapt off the roof. "Are you?"

With a shriek, Rose Tentacles appeared in a flash of violet light, her summoning hand moving nearly too quick to follow. Pinned down before a word of protest could escape him, she was in front of him, hand gripping her gloved forearm with enough strength to break it.

"Show me!" she snapped, abruptly reaching out towards him with her fingers clawed, mirroring the image on the paper perfectly. Her hand found his jaw and squeezed, forcing him to stare at her, the thick black tattoos that dominated his skin standing out as he paled. "Who the hell are you? Did my father send you? Is that why you saved me?"

He blinked incomprehensibly, not bothering to struggle against the thorns that held him bodily in place. She was unthinkably close to him, eyes brimming with scarlet, a sure warning of frightened tears on their way, her breath a hot fume against his scratched cheeks. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he repeated, working one hand free and setting his fingertip on her mask, the highest he could reach.

Even though he already knew whose face lied behind it, Rose Tentacles tightened its grip on him, earning her a satisfying cry of pain as the thorns dug into his already battered body. Grimacing, he cracked one eye open, working his hand higher, ignoring the shallow grazes the plant made on his skin. His fingers managed to fit in the grooves that hid her eyes before she'd had enough, her fear overcoming uncertainty.

"Monster!"

As if triggered, the creature behind her flung him against the opposing wall, forcing a crash that echoed through much more than just the Arcadia Movement's walls. For a moment something like regret flashed across what might have been blue eyes, but the resounding wail from the overwhelmed drove it from him like the words he had spat to a king long ago.

The crushing weight of heavy vines holding him above her was forgotten at the cool feeling still lingering on his fingertips, the mask having parted from her face by the sticky grab of the blood that coated his palm. Although he had been prepared for the pain she would undoubtedly deal him, the sight of tears streaming down her cheeks left him disconcerted, and for once in his half-life, completely at a loss for words.

"Monster…" it was a whisper from her lips now, pale and white against the red blotches on her face. Wounded amber eyes flashed open with renewed hate, as if his silent request to see her had forced the foul word from her. She regarded him silently, her rage billowing in the grip she had on her arm, paralyzed where she stood now that her face was in the open, now that he had seen her shameful weakness.

Realizing if he continued to stare at her as he did she would see his face behind the mask as well, he blurted, "You're much more beautiful when you're yourself."

Hoping futilely that the smirk he plastered over his concern was enough to deflect her, he then hefted the mask over his own face. Rose Tentacle's hold on him made the movement difficult and awkward, every ounce as unnatural as it felt. But it worked.

The laugh that left her foreshadowed their next brutal encounter, and she whispered, "I'm a witch who enjoys the suffering of others."—a lopsided smile carved across her cheeks and tears, bringing an otherworldly light into her dark eyes—"And who are you, Shadowhunter?"

"Well," he began matter-of-factly, the mask jostling with his movements. She advanced rapidly, cutting across his deflection with a swipe at his head, adding an indigent, "Ow!" into the mix. Dangling a few strands of golden hair between her fingers, she threatened, "I'll find out soon enough."

The sudden stare-down between the exposed eyes and the stolen mask probably would have gone on for hours, days even, if it wasn't interrupted by Divine bursting into the room, his ace monster gliding beside him. As he took in the bizarre and concerning scene before him, the Shadowhunter had the tact to reply, "A little late, aren't we?"

Completely ignoring him, he turned towards his charge, whose look of shame had returned tenfold. Almost as if embarrassed, she held out the ripped hairs to him in silent contemplation, which he took immediately, dropping his offensive state. His free arm wrapped around her shoulder in comfort and protection, turning a curious glare in the pinned man's direction, wondering, "What happened?"

He shrugged and answered, "Daddy issues."

Angela reappeared, her lovely features attempting to be grave. The overall affect made her look like a pained toad, which was forgotten with her words, "At the time, the tests over the Arcadia Movement's DNA test returned negative, which was not surprising. After the tragedy with Zero Reverse, all data was lost, and many criminals took this in stride, lacking to sign up for identification so they may carry on undetected by Security."

This pause was not for understanding, but for emphasis. "Or if you were in the Satellite."

The next transition into the clips was abrupt but appropriate, showing Rose Tentacles fading and the Shadowhunter offering a hand to Aki, Divine out of sight, off running his tests for leverage over the man's head. She glared at the appendage as incredulously as he had Divine's, urging him to speak, soft and gentle.

"You are not a monster, and your powers don't make you a witch."

"I hate you."

The black Marks dancing up and down his arms seem to gleam in the early moonlight as it broke free from the remnants of rain. He was not afraid of her, nor deterred by her words, and he seemed to be earnest as he replied, "I'll catch whatever you throw out."

He put weight on his injured leg and let his hands catch in the feeble light. Her eyes widened in recognition. She stepped away, repeating her words, "I hate you so much."

Ridiculously, he shrugged and turned his back to her, the eyes of her stolen mask lingering against her skin in the starlight. The space where his hand had been moments before seemed drained, almost shackled without its presence to release her, the choice he had offered and she denied. Somehow, refusing this man felt horrendously wrong, although her heart begged her to stay away from him lest he end its beating.

She stared at the mask he had so casually lifted from her face without any more words to throw, and although the strain in his back showed his pain, his voice was cheerful and his answer truthful, "Good."

Without a further word he mounted the sill of her window, examining the glittering lights of the city catching against his silver scars like treasure. Like a returning phantom, he turned to her once more, taking in the surroundings of the Arcadia Movement with faint disgust—and for a moment she felt like she knew him, knew him like she had once known herself, as she thought she knew Divine, and as she wished she knew her family.

"Are you going to kill me?" she wondered. Sometimes, she thought he knew her too. Though hidden by the pilfered mask, she felt the intense chill of his gaze on her face, saw his mouth whisper deadly truths, the words sliding off his lips like a sigh.

"You're not dead yet, Black Rose."

Leaving her in confusion, he leaned backwards and past the windowpane, gliding down the sky like a solitary drop of rain, vanishing into the night as if she had simply imagined him. She ran to the window's edge with a scream that would drive Divine to her quarters, reaching downwards with her gloved hands more desperately than she had in years, feeling expressions slide across her vulnerable face, illuminated by the full light of the moon.

She caught the last moment of his descent, and was sure she heard laughter. The darkness claimed him.

And Angela was back to tell them why any of this mattered at all; why it meant that Fudo Yusei had been connected to the Shadowhunter and was to be brought to justice, dead or alive, the prior preferred. "Viewers of the Fortune Cup will remember Fudo saying something very similar to Izayoi Aki during their match. Several important facts have been revealed in just these three clips one of our sources have recovered from Security, as they took it in their best interest to try and cover up the existence of the Shadowhunter."

The camera shifted angles, and Angela turned to look at them rather dramatically, "The rumors that circulated around the Damon area soon diminished after this visit to the Arcadia Movement, no doubt because it was only a week later that Fudo was sent to Security for breaking into Neo Domino City. Of the little known about the villain, these facts cropped up the most: He could make jumps that no man could, he could attain speeds impossible to even the fastest Olympic runner, the only thing quicker than his feet was his tongue, he was littered with silver scars and black tattoos, and he was either a psychic or a demon."

Her eyes seemed to pierce the viewers, green and shallow in her costly victory, "He is no psychic."

A sidebar appeared, flooded with information gathered from the golden strands of hair, long since lost with the fall of the Arcadia Movement. "Although at the time there were faults in the ID system," the reporter admonished with a superior air, "now every Satellite citizens has been registered, especially those competing in the WRGP."

Match, made its way onto the side-screen, soon pulling up the information that every viewer who knew him had been dreading, eating away at something already fragile and cracked between them.

"For those who thought they knew him," she wrapped up, "be thankful that you never truly did, like Divine, Izayoi Aki, and countless others have."

Yusei's face, grim and marked by society, flashed across the scene. As the reporter opened her mouth to list the details of other petty news stories, the remote made a violent move to silence her, followed by the clipped voice of a woman who shared her features.

"Mizoguchi, what time is it?"

She remained completely oblivious that miles away two small children sat in complete silence, staring at their would-be brother from a spacious and empty couch, clinging onto each other as if it was all they had.

Blond hair fanning out behind her, she paced the large warehouse as if its endless walls were far too close, the enormous beast she carried within her too small for even the largest of cages. He watched her restless feet with concern he had showed only one other man, offering, "Two forty in the morning, twenty minutes left, My Lady."

If she heard his words she ignored him, stomping from one end of the abandoned ruin to the other, feeling as alone in the cold space as the twins felt in their luxurious mansion. Stardust Dragon seemed to radiate a chill that had nothing to do with anger or fear, but a warning that the French woman would not heed, the impatience and need for truth and obsession that could not be quelled.

Not even by his hope.

Unknown

"Yusei!"

The woman had long since vanished down the tracks that led to his little room, deeming that her presence was unneeded in the final act of one man's life. He looked up from where he had been left, physically alone but wallowing in the memories of happier times, and seeing the man he had been so desperately searching for framed in the tiny window between the earth sent him hurtling back.

The old panes made no sound as she swung them open, betraying his meticulous oiling and care for them. For a moment she hesitated, framed in the light pollution leaking behind her, features undistinguished, and with a great breath her bare feet met the carpet. Although her entrance was soundless, he felt her there regardless, yet felt no specific urge to get up from where he lie, content with opening his eyes and looking at her over his covers.

The noises of the other three in the garage seemed distant and unnecessary compared to the volumes spoke between their eyes, the lack of noise both protecting them and damning them in the bonds they floundered to maintain. Finally, once the last door had closed with a thrown insult at the eldest Signer, Yusei whispered, "You shouldn't be here."

"I don't give a damn."

Her feet dragged across the carpet as she approached him, echoing her in a soft hiss. Stopping at his bedside, she held one gloved hand out to him, lower lip trembling, as if asking him to kiss it. Raising an eyebrow, he reached out one palm and took it, his rough hands catching on the fabric.

With one quick glance at her shielded eyes, he tugged. The black fabric was thrown high above their heads and soared onto the desk on the other side of the room, exposing the marks that bound them together. Arms tense, she breathed his name and fisted her hand, staring at the Dragon Mark he had exposed with a mixture of uncertainty and principal.

Finally she crawled into bed him with, and nothing was needed to provoke his arms around her, his wrist over hers. It was not perfect and smooth like the world had told them, his bed was meant for one, and he was crammed awkwardly against the wall while she struggled to find a comfortable place on his chest. Finally discovering the crook of his neck supported her head nicely, she settled down with a frustrated sigh.

"You weren't right," she muttered, gripping his shirt as she spoke, "but I'm sorry anyway."

Amber and sapphire met for the first time in days, both tired and shamed at what they had put the other through, "I deserve to know you, Yusei… but I'm not even sure you know yourself anymore."

The silence where he tried to answer was long and tense, the muscles in his face working as he worked against becoming stone. Seeing the effort he put in seemed to appease her for the time being, however, and she moved her hand up to his chin. This time, her grip was soft, as were her words, "I can't let you die."

Seized with the sudden need to reassure her, to protect her from himself; he cupped his head in his Marked arm, pulling her closer still. There was no perfect fit between them, but her hand was pleasant over his rapidly beating heart, and his arms enclosing her was the most wonderful place in her world. Her bare fingers traced the muscles over his shirt, smiling at the organ that couldn't lie to her, "I'll protect this."

That assurance only set the muscle's tempo faster, and she sighed, "I know you don't want me involved—"

"—in this," Kiryu's voice startled him back, although his eyes had weakened to the point where he was nothing more than a blob of gray and silver, the occasional golden flash alerting to position of his eyes. The Dyne Mine tracks rusted behind him in silence, the once harried carts decimated on the sidelines.

"Kiryu…"

He felt hands on his shoulders, shaking him as his head lolled, the memories of this place threatening to tear him from this place before he was ready. "Yusei, what's going on? Why did she come and get me? Are you hurt?"

He cracked open a hazy eye and whispered, relief evident in every part of him, "You're alive."

Confusion passed over his friend's face. Then, deciding that a laugh would be much better than a half delirious state, he ventured, "And I only had to die three times too!"

Perhaps three years ago that would have drawn a laugh, under the security of their Team Satisfaction façade, under the stars and thrill of the hunt and justice. But there was no humor in Yusei's eyes tonight. "You're in danger."

"Why?" Kiryu evaded, instinctively checking his partner over for wounds, ignoring the small cut across his cheek that made his marker into a cross. He paused at Yusei's wrist, staring as if he had been delivered a low blow, before trying to pass it off as an examination of the Dragon Head Mark instead.

It was easier to stay now that his goal was sitting before him, yet his tongue was so tired from disuse and his lungs already slowing, through his heart beat on undeterred, determine to fit in a lifetime's to these next few minutes. Suddenly having absolutely no idea where to begin, he watched Kiryu tremble with an inkling of worry, but even that emotion barely touched him now, hidden somewhere far beyond a thick curtain.

Realizing how very little he actually had left to say to the one person he had ever let understand him, he mustered up the energy to ask the last favor he could, the whisper Ithuriel like a curse in the stale mountain air. The blade rose dimly between them, drawing Kiryu's quick eyes and illuminating half of his face.

Making out the rage in those eyes, he quickly backtracked, "It's the only way!"

Taking several steps in the opposite direction of the knife on the table between them, Yusei let his disgust reign true between them, hoping the bite in his words would bring Kiryu to his senses, "Should I do it now then, or do you want me to invite Jack and Crow to watch?"

"You won't actually hurt me!" Kiryu insisted, taking a few hasty steps forward, desperation in his voice. The map lay half-colored beside the knife; a reminder of what was necessary to reach their goals, what needed to be sacrificed to reach their greater good. His fists and resolve trembled under the weight of that goal, and his eyes were as cold as the mask he had started to wear was.

"Yusei," Kiryu continued hastily, seeing that indignation had choked the words out of him. "This zone is way too dangerous for us to charge ahead like we normally do, you said so yourself. An ambush is the best way to proceed!"

"How the hell is this an ambush, Kiryu?"

The sound of footsteps echoed down the dingy building as Crow and Jack heard the shouting, the kids' laughter coming to an abrupt halt at the unfamiliar sound of Yusei's raised voice. Hands slamming down on the table between them, he leaned forward, the knife between his palms. "You're asking too much! It's too dangerous!"

His victim shot an alarmed look at the ceiling as Crow called out for them, worried. Shooting the murderous man a pleading look, he stashed the knife in the inside pocket of his fur-lined jacket, quickly morphing his features into the determined leader. "We have no choice."

By now, the other two had burst into the room, just in time to see Yusei turn his back on them to hide his rage and clenched teeth, forcing the words from his mouth as he left. "No—"

"—I can't Yusei." Kiryu's fingers lingered on his as he fisted the blade, his unseen face paling.

Heart continuing to beat in vain, the sound opened his senses to what he was asking for. As if the dulling of the world around him had made everything within him clearer, he was suddenly aware of just how miraculous it was that he was alive; that he was still breathing despite all of the danger and turmoil he had caused and been put through.

Each breath was a whispering relief, each drum of his heart a gift, each emotion that glided behind his mask a small wonder he could never hope to understand. Yet he smiled anyway, wise enough in his short years to know it was what he couldn't understand that was truly beautiful.

With what little strength wasn't fighting off the void, he raised the other hand and folded it around Kiryu's fist. Something broke in those eyes, a streak of liquid silver leaking down as evidence.

Her hand trembled in his fist as he hauled her head against his chest, shaking her shoulders, begging for her name as the last tear of the night fell, leaving her cheeks glistening and pure. Blood dripped from his, the blood that pooled in his free hand, working to save her, praying to anyone watching that she be spared…

"I love you, Yusei."

Those had been the last words to part from those lips, the last secret they would keep between them, the last blood promise to show how much they would sacrifice for the other, she on her need to be saved and to be acknowledge, he on his need to save and stay hidden. Her hand had long since been limp, but her heart raced on, refusing the pointless cliché of a death in her loved one's embrace.

"Not like this," he swore, the creature that had meant to end his life already a smoldering charcoal behind him. "Never like this."

The ground was still scuffed with the marks from her heels as she leapt out in front of him, still stained with her blood as he traced the same circle around her stomach. Hissing softly, breathe renewed in her throat as he finished the track, bringing his slick hand to the one he still held, determined not to look and see if the wound was mending, if the rune would still bring color back into her pale skin.

He was determined to hope and to believe, to stare into the gleaming face, full of sweat and fear, until it was made new again by her large amber eyes. He was determined to gaze at her lashes until he saw the slightest tremble, until she filled his heart with relief once more. He was determined that he would not let her die, that her attempted sacrifice would never happen again, for it was already in vain.

It all played between them as their eyes locked, her hair fisted by a large, bearded man and arms tied behind her back, powers running wild but ineffective while the small child held her deck. Her lips hovered over the lake before her, ready to be submerged at any time. In her eyes he was reflected kneeling before the shores, hand hovering over the marks burned into the grass, the man who was behind Ghost laughing triumphantly about a new future.

"I love you, Yusei."

"Aki!" he shouted, hoping that the mastermind of the plan that held her was quick enough to stop her. But there had always been something wrong with the man, something that prevented him from predicting the twists and turns they would take together, the emotions that forced them to act outside of calculations. He had no chance of saving her life, and Yusei was trapped within his own fate.

He stumbled forward regardless; never one to give into the illusion of destiny, but Aki had made it so he truly did not have the power to save her. Her head went under, mouth wide open with the words of love, and although the bearded man acted quickly in his surprise, by the time she had emerged, she was coughing and spluttering as she swallowed the cursed water, eyes wide and name forced out of her mouth, "Yusei!"

Biting back shock and agony unlike anything that had burned him before, he reached out a grabbed—

—hold of his hand like they had in old times, as they had the first night Yusei had balked from their idealistic goals. Fatigue overwhelmed him, leaving nothing distinguishable from the world but the voice left talking to him.

"You can't ask me to do this!"

It was a beg, no longer a demand, perhaps his once leader understood that he was no longer here to be hurt, that this was the way to ensure that he would not truly die. Finding his voice was an effort he barely had enough energy to spare, and he felt his hands slipping from those that held his, and he was tired… just so tired…

"Kiryu, you must…"

Way longer than intended. This seems to be a repeating pattern of mine...

Anyone else excited about what the next 5ds episode could bring for Yusei? Or am I just crazy as always?

Thanks for reading as always!

~AxJfan