The evening had rolled in balmy and thick—a lush, star-speckled blanket that respired against the glowing faces of the partygoers, floated in their sparkling wine and stained-glass cocktails, and wafted across the glossy surface of the pond—sending the lily pads and floating tealights swirling.

The bustling exhilaration of the showcase had long ago melted away and given way to a languid rhythm of schmoozing and small talk, accompanied by the few dusky, dappled notes of a distant jazz band. The men were beginning to unlace their ties, the women to strip off their heels as they drifted in pairs on the dewy lawn—slipping in and out of the shadows as effortlessly as breathing.

Mai scowled. The middle-aged businessmen types that made a habit of attending these events had a tendency to cling to her like moths to a flame once the sun had gone down, as if her shamelessly tawny hair and spitfire attitude were the panacea to their beige shoebox, fill-in-the-bubbles lives. And the alcohol only made it worse. Their mouths got loser and their grips tighter.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes, easing herself away from the crowd.

"Oi, Kajaku-chan!" Someone called after her. "Leaving the party so soon? We're just getting started over here!"

She grit her teeth but raised the corners of her mouth. "Later, boys. Unlike you fellas, I have to work tomorrow."

There was a burst of raucous laughter. "Going home all alone, that's a shame…"

"You want someone to walk you home, Kajaku-chan?"

"I'll pass, thanks."

"Ah, don't be like that, Kajaku-chan," one of them jeered at her. "With an attitude like that you'll end up an old maid before you know it! You won't be young and beautiful forever, you know!"

They laughed amongst themselves, passing around another bottle of wine and tossing the ones they had finished into the bushes.

"That's a chance I'm willing to take."

She turned from them, ignoring the shrill laughter still ringing in her ears.

"Maybe if all these losers weren't too wasted to think straight I might have a chance of having a good time here," she muttered. "But put a couple swigs of alcohol in them all they see are tits and ass." She snorted, crossing her arms across her chest. "Is there anyone here who's actually worth talking to?"

-xxx-

Jounouchi could feel his heart throbbing in his throat. Suggesting this game had been a stupid idea—he could see that now. Because now the party was starting to melt into a warm river of soft misty light, but everyone at his table was sharp and still—their only movements a flicker of the eyes across the table or the contemptuous curl of a lip upon landing a particularly devastating blow.

Everyone, that was, expect Kaiba, who was continually scanning the patio, biting his lip, and flinching whenever Mokuba made any sudden movements. Jounouchi tapped on the table. "Yo, it's your turn—are you even paying attention?"

Seto's eyes snapped back across the table. He grimaced and sighed. "This is ridiculous."

"Hey, you sit at our table, you play by our rules. Now go."

Seto rubbed his temples. His head was throbbing. "And what a mistake that was." He stole a glance at Mokuba, who smirked up at him mischievously.

"Just go, nii-sama," he insisted. "Or I'll come up with one for you…"

Seto bristled and tightened his grip on Mokuba's wrist under the table. "Fine, whatever—I've—" he cast his gaze around the garden; Pegasus had yet to make an appearance. Yet his spirit seemed to lurk in every shadow, prying into him with the insolence of a thousand unblinking eyes. He tried to shake the feeling off, but his grip around Mokuba's wrist and the tremor in his veins remained. "I've never lost a chess match."

He leaned back in triumph as the rest of the table grumbled and Jounouchi, Yuugi, and Mokuba each put down one of their fingers. He raised a brow at Yuugi, "Even you, king of games?"

Yuugi shrugged. "When I was still learning…"

"Hn, typical." Seto leaned into him, eyes bristling and black. "When did you last play."

"Hey!" Jounouchi interjected, "It's your turn, Mokuba! Give us a good one."

"Hm..." Mokuba rested his chin on his free hand and bit his bottom lip. "I guess…okay! Never have I ever…had to go to the hospital."

There was an uneasy shifting at his side and he could feel a flinch steal down Seto's arm, slightly rattling his wrist. All three of his opponents retracted a finger. Yuugi smiled sheepishly, eyes darting between Seto's stern frown, Jounouchi's raised brows, and Mokuba's wide eyes.

"Really, nii-sama? When?"

"A long time ago. It's not important."

Mokuba nodded, but the tumult painted across his face did not completely subside. 'A long time ago' was another of their codes, another string of meaningless symbols, a lie that felt dearer and rung with more poignancy than the truth when it reverberated between them. But tonight, with Seto's face deliberately blank and his tone hollow and grey, Mokuba didn't sense the bittersweet warmth of shared recognition, only a cold and empty pane of slate. A secret that Seto shared with only himself.

-xxx-

Isis tapped on the door, perhaps a bit more brusquely than was strictly necessary.

"Were you planning on staying squirreled away for the remainder of the evening?"

"And eternally disgrace myself as a host in the eyes of Domino's most illustrious businessmen?" Isis shook her head. His voice was as airy and flippant as ever. "I wouldn't dream of it."

The door opened shortly after. "I'm afraid that attending to my appearance takes a touch longer than it used to—I can't imagine that the natural look would go over well with our investors. Oh!" He smiled at Isis and dipped his head slightly in deference. "I apologize. My investors. Heaven knows you've had more than enough of this business."

Isis nodded but didn't reply, fingers inadvertently flickering to the scarlet rose she had tucked behind her ear. She had removed and replaced it several times over the course of the evening, never quite satisfied with the warm ruby glow that illuminated her face when she wore it, nor the ashen severity that seemed to take over in its absence. Pegasus watched her, and even with only one functional eye he saw more than Isis would have liked.

"I admit, though, I'm saddened to see you go."

"I assure you it's for the best."

"Oh, I have no doubt of that." He drifted towards the window, gazing at the partygoers below—effervescent stars swimming in the infinite matrix of night. "But no one could capture the true magnificence of Duel Monsters like you could."

"Was there ever any magnificence in it?"

His wistful smile snapped into a troubled frown. "Of course! A troubled and broken spirit reaching across time to seek communion, to share its life force and do battle against the combined forces of evil alongside one fragile human soul—what could be more achingly beautiful that that union between darkness and light—spirit and flesh—transcending all physical bounds?"

He sighed, and his face seemed to drop slightly. "I know I flew too close to the sun—I channeled that force to selfish ends, to appease my own fears and mend my own heart—and I had no right to infringe upon something so sacred. But…despite it all I can't help but feel that there was something beautiful in that as well, as ugly as it was. Like a phoenix, I had to burn away everything bitter and rotten—before I could rise again."

He leaned into the windowsill, chin resting in his palm, and smiled again. Dour thoughts had never clung to him for long. He chuckled softly. "Fortunately my tastes are decidedly lighter now." He turned to her, and there was a quiet and tender softness in his features that Isis had only seen in his earliest self-portraits, completed when the morning of his life had still been bright and crisp.

"You look quite lovely, Ms. Ishtar."

Isis shifted and looked away. Her cheeks flushed with the memory of the half hour spent making last-minute alterations to the gown she had worn during Battle City and subsequently refused to touch or acknowledge. Now stripped of its golden adornments and sporting a more modest hemline, Isis was now impervious to the salty leers of Industrial Illusion's less respectable associates—especially when coupled with her rigid and hostile glower. But she shivered without her veil, flinched without the comforting restraint of her belt and heavy bangles, and couldn't help but cling to the fear that—tamed as the dress now was—she looked infinitely more ridiculous in it now than she had abroad the Kaiba Corp airship.

"Thank you."

"You should keep the flower, it suits you." He turned back to the window. "How do you think they're doing down there?"

"They are waiting for you."

"Are they? I don't believe so. Come, see if you can see what I can." He pointed to one of the tables on the patio. Though the light was dim, Isis could distinguish a flare of bright blonde hair, a handful of fluorescent spikes, two figures who from above appeared almost as dark as the encroaching shadows—and were clinging to each other to preserve what little light they retained between them.

He sighed. "I'm afraid I'm just the man behind the curtain now. The cowardly lion discovered the courage lying dormant in his own heart, the scarecrow learned to ponder matters more cerebral than his corporal existence. And they have woken up to the fact that they simply do not need me, and that in fact they never truly did. In the end, the only person who could grant them what they were seeking was themselves. But," his voice caught slightly, but he smoothed it over and continued. "There is one that still concerns me…" He turned to Isis and kept his gaze trained on her. "Do you think our tin man will ever acknowledge that he has a heart?"

Isis stepped away abruptly, smoothing imaginary wrinkles in her skirt. "Seto Kaiba's heart is no concern of mine," she huffed.

Pegasus smirked. "If that's what you chose to believe, then, by all means, don't allow me to dissuade you. But you and I both know that you have never made a habit of dealing in untruths."

He stood, rolling back his shoulders and turning up his chin—still very much the regal king with whom he had once shared a soul. "Isn't it time that we made our grand entrance? I do believe that our subjects are expecting us."

-xxx-

"Okay, well, what can I say? I've done so much it's hard to think of something here…"

"Just get on with it."

"I'm trying to think of a good one, alright? There's a very complex strategy to playing this game. I have to think of whatever will get the most of you guys out…"

"We are familiar with the mechanics of the game."

"Take your time, Jou-kun."

"Okay, I've got it—never have I ever—wait, huh—Mai?!" He leaped out of his chair and bounded across the lawn to meet her. "Where have you been this whole time? I didn't even know you were here!"

Mai smiled despite herself, savoring the sparkling rush of warmth that flushed her face. "I've spent most of the night wishing that I wasn't."

He almost wrapped an arm around her shoulders. At the close of Battle City he wouldn't have thought twice about clutching her to his chest, but those precious starburst days had faded into something distant, small, and pale. They weren't dying anymore. "Psh, that's ridiculous." He smiled and struck a heroic full-chested, wide-legged pose. "I can guarantee that you'll have a great time now that I'm here! C'mon—come sit with us."

Mai looked to where Jounouchi was gesturing at the far end of the patio. Two exuberant grins and one stubborn scowl.

"I was just about to take off, Jounouchi…I have to get up early tomorrow…" Their eyes locked. This was a feeling that Mai was still learning to embrace—the feeling of taking something dark and delicate and gently holding it up to the light. Her smile widened. "Well, maybe just for a minute—it has been a while—"

"Yeah, that's more like it! C'mon, everyone will be so excited to see you!"

Mai shook her head, but had to struggle to keep herself from skipping behind him. He had always had a way of making even the most dead and dreadful of places bubble like spring.

"What have you been up to, Mai?" Yuugi asked as Jounouchi pulled up an empty chair from a neighboring table. "I haven't been keeping up with the professional circuit much lately…"

She shrugged. "Honestly there hasn't been much to keep up with. All the major tournaments have basically dried up since Battle City—" she side-eyed Kaiba, whose face stiffened. "Too much bad press. But who knows—maybe after this expo things will start to look up."

"I doubt it," Kaiba seethed.

"Well, somebody's got to save the reputation of this game. God knows I already have enough years of hostessing experience."

"Nah, Mai, that won't happen—don't worry. You're too smart and have got way too much class to end up working in some stupid club."

"Ha, thanks, honey. I guess if worst comes to worst I could always take up poker or something. It certainly wouldn't be the same though."

"I wouldn't worry," Yuugi spoke to the ice floating in his water. "Duel Monsters has been around for a long time. I don't think it's going to go away anytime soon."

Kaiba snorted. "Only if Pegasus has enough sense to keep his mouth shut. No one's going to be too eager to support Duel Monsters once they find out it's an ancient Egyptian murder game."

Mai raised a brow. "Hm—as opposed to a modern Japanese murder game? Face it, Pegasus certainly didn't help—but no one's done as much to hurt its reputation as you have."

Mokuba was the only one who could feel the tremor steal down Seto's back. "That's not true!" He declared. "Nii-sama invented the technology that everyone uses to play Duel Monsters! It was Pegasus' idea to use it as an excuse to hurt people!"

"That's enough, Mokuba." Seto's voice had turned black.

"You might want to check your facts on that one, kid."

"Look, you can choose to blame me for destroying Duel Monsters' reputation all you want—if it makes you feel better," Kaiba sneered. "But don't blame the game for not being able to save yours."

Yuugi gaped and Jounouchi glowered, but Mai simply sighed and chuckled in shades of violet and blue. "It's cute how you think you're hurting my feelings. Or it would be, if it wasn't so obvious and pathetic. Honey, I stopped taking your opinions seriously the second you rolled in flying a jet shaped like a dragon."

Seto kicked the leg of the table so hard that it rattled. "At least I don't advertise my incompetency across my chest."

"Yeah, you let people discover it all on their own."

"Hey, guys—let's get along! We'll all friends here, remember?" Jounouchi's eyes darted back and forth across the table. Kaiba's eyes were practically dripping acid, Mai's were frozen solid.

"Yeah, so much for that." Kaiba's chair toppled behind him as he stormed into the darkness.

Mokuba reached limply into the shadows that his brother had left behind. "Uh, sorry about that." He seemed to shrink as he spoke. "He, um, hasn't been sleeping well."

"Is Kaiba-kun okay?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so."

"Doesn't give him the right to act like a dick to people," Jounouchi huffed. "Mai didn't come over here just to get insulted."

"Relax, Jounouchi, I can handle myself against a brat with a big mouth—it comes with the territory." She shrugged. "That was kind of fun, actually. I haven't had the chance to do too many verbal take-downs in a while."

"Don't worry about it, Mokuba. I'm sure whatever it is that's bothering him is just putting him on edge. Is it anything we can help with?"

Mokuba shrugged and gazed into the rough, noisy darkness. "I wish I knew…"

"Hey, you," Mai poked Jounouchi on the arm. "How have you been? Managing to get by without me? Frankly I'm surprised you didn't get yourself killed back there."

Jounouchi grinned. "Only barely. Ah, you should have been there, Mai! It was amazing! And awful, but well, pretty cool."

She sighed. "Sounds like a riot. I wish I had been, though. I would have liked to say goodbye to him…" she slowly turned towards Yuugi, features softened and pearly. "How has it been, kiddo?"

Yuugi laughed nervously. "You don't need to worry about me. I'm just glad that Atem finally found peace in the afterlife. That was what he really needed…"

Mai nodded. "Don't we all." She clasped his hand. "Just know that we're here for you."

"Yeah. Thanks!" The smile that started at Yuugi's lips didn't quite reach his eyes—but Mokuba was the only one who seemed to notice.

"You don't have to pretend to be stronger than you really are," he muttered. "Just look at what it does to nii-sama."

Yuugi frowned and kneaded his hands. "But I'm not pretending. I really am happy for him. It just takes time to adjust, I guess. It's weird to not always have someone to talk to." He chuckled softly. "It's funny—sometimes I still do talk to him and it feels weird that he never replies. It's like—I'm reaching for something that just goes further and further away. It surprises me every time it happens, though I guess I should have learned by now." He shrugged. "But I guess that's something that'll get easier…"

Mokuba frowned and slouched under the weight of a bitter blue wave of memory. "Trust me," he sighed, "it won't."

-xxx-

Mai shifted closer to Jounouchi, trying not to notice that the warmth he radiated was softer and brighter than that released by the heat lamps.

"Shizuka told me about your father." She spoke slowly—Shizuka had made her promise that she wouldn't tell anyone, and Mai couldn't help but fear that by breaking it she was endangering something small and defenseless. "I'm sorry."

"Ah, don't be sorry." He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the table. "It was just a matter of time, honestly. That idiot never knew how to take care of himself."

"Or you."

He flashed her a jaunty, dangerous smile—a smile that had never rejected a challenge or turned away from a dare. "I did pretty well for myself though, huh?"

"If you say so." She bit her lip. "She told me about your…situation."

His expression clouded, and when he laughed the sound was jarring and derisive. "Which one?" he snapped. "The one about how I'll never get into a decent university, never even get looked at for a real job—let alone hired—or about how we're about this close from getting kicked out the country and the only person who can help me get out of it is that little terror over there?"

"Well, I was referring to the second one, but Jounouchi—"

"I'm sorry." He hunched over the table, cradling his forehead in his palms and wincing. "I'm not usually like this. Just had a crummy day…"

"What happened?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm just overreacting." He sighed and slouched against the back of his chair, expression vacant. "I was just studying with Yuugi this morning and—I don't know—it's just been so long." He let out a short, brutal laugh. "I forgot how much I hate school I guess. Not looking forward to going back."

"Then don't."

"What, you know I can't do that! It's just one more year—"

She scoffed. "And then it's the rest of your life."

"Whoa, aren't you supposed to be the mature one here? Giving me good advice and wisdom and everything? I can't just quit—you know that."

"You can't waste your life listening to other people tell you what to do, either. And it's not quitting if you know what you're doing."

He laughed. "And who says I do? I have no idea what to do with my life. From where I'm standing, it's only go to college and get a job or…end up like him."

"That kind of life would make you miserable."

"I'd be miserable either way. I'd rather be miserable and at least be able to pay the bills."

Her voice slowed and buckled. "And what about me, then? I never finished school—do you think I'm the same type of person as your father?"

"No, Mai, of course not—"

"Then why don't you believe in yourself the same way you believe in me? Jounouchi, you're every bit as talented as me—and just as tough. If anyone is capable of breaking out and making it on their own, it's you."

"You make it sound so easy."

"Believe me—it's not easy, not even close. But it's worth it." She leaned closer to him, peering into the shadows on his face. "What's gotten into you? The Jounouchi I know would never go around sprouting this self-defeating bullcrap."

He sighed and turned away. "I know. It's not that I don't believe in myself, it's just that…things got harder faster than I expected."

"Then you fight harder."

"But…fight for what? Against who? I don't have any enemies anymore, so it's just like, what…fight the whole world?" He shook his head. "I don't think I want that either. It's fun to have a good challenge, but sometimes I'd like to just…be."

"You do whatever it takes to get the life you want. And you don't give up—ever. Even if you're terrified."

"I never said I was terrified."

She smiled. A little of the spark was beginning to return to his eyes. "I could see it in you. It's okay to be scared, you know—everything worth doing is worth being afraid of. Just don't let it control you."

-xxx-

A few sharp taps on the microphone were enough to shatter the sticky stupor of the party and stunt it into silence. Under the glare of the hastily-erected spotlight, Pegasus' face looked even paler than anyone had remembered. His once fine skin had been carved by premature aging. His arms and hands—while as silky and elegant as ever—were frail, stiff. But he still sparkled.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Domino," he smiled and bowed slightly, "my deepest thanks for your attention this evening—and your patience. Now," he stepped off the podium and began to weave through the audience, the spotlight trailing behind him. "I daresay that what I am about to do may be considered a major faux pas in the international business community—but anyone who knows Industrial Illusions should by now know that I am not one for doing things conventionally."

He stopped suddenly. Poised in the middle of the patio, illuminated by the restrained blaze of the heat lamps that flickered across his face and sharpened every shadow, his figure and his voice demanded the attention of everyone surrounding him. Everyone except the one person he was desperately seeking and could not find anywhere.

He sighed, but didn't allow his smile to wane. "Tonight will be without any technical jargon or affectation—the kind of talk that obscures the truth more than reveals it. Yes, tonight I am going to do something that I should have done many years ago—something I should have done from the beginning: I'm going to tell the truth, and I'm going to apologize." Mai, Jounouchi, Yuugi, Mokuba—his gaze fell on each of them in turn

"The past several years have been marred by hardship and tragedy in both my public and personal lives, and during a time of weakness, grief, and blind ambition—I succumbed to a power that I could scarcely understand—let alone control. When the Millennium Eye was in my possession I hid my pain and fear behind an enchanted golden mask, and I became a person that I loathe to recognize as myself. I was selfish, callous, and cruel, and I took advantage of the suffering and sentimentality of others as a tool to advance my own agenda, an agenda that defied all laws of nature and…decency." His smile became faint and wistful, eyes slightly clouded. "The most difficult thing to acknowledge was that I could not blame the Eye for my behavior. Those impulses, that lust for power, had always been there—waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

"I suppose you are all wondering what any of this has to do with Duel Monsters. Well, as owning the Millennium Eye revealed to me the darkness in my heart, many of the events that followed revealed to us all the darkness inherent in this game we love. Perhaps some of us sensed it from the beginning—though they lacked the words to describe it. The less honorable among us may have harnessed this power to meet their own ends, and I daresay that the majority of us have felt the temptation.

"The truth is, when we play Duel Monsters we open the door to a part of ourselves—a dark, dangerous part—that we may not know we had. That is how the game has always been played, and I'm afraid there's no escaping it. But this doesn't mean that the game must end. It doesn't mean that we must cower in fear of what we cannot fully understand. It does mean that we must learn to control that door, and not let it control us. Some never learn to close it, some—once they finally force it shut—are too terrified to even contemplate approaching it again—but if my own years of darkness and torment have taught me anything, it's that the door cannot be denied. It is inherent to each of us as it is inherent to Duel Monsters, and if we want to do good—to conquer our unsavory defects—we must acknowledge and accept them. It is impossible to overcome anything in ignorance."

He paused, reached into his pocket, and held a card up to the light. Amber light melted into the surface of his Toon World card—each finger of flame casting light and shadow in equal measure. "I don't regret being weak, being sad, or being scared. I regret turning those emotions into something far more sinister and dangerous. And I regret, more than anything else, the pain and grief that I inflicted on others because I did not have the courage to face my own. So," his gaze returned to his audience. "I prostrate myself before you all tonight—to ask for your forgiveness, and your help." The familiar playful smile returned to his face. "Duel Monsters may be weathering some of its darkest days—but as they say—it is darkest before the dawn.

"Starting here, tonight, I would like to make a pledge: to put the best of ourselves into our Duel Monsters decks, so that they might bring out the best in us. And together, we will give Duel Monsters something very rare and very precious: a second chance."

-xxx-

Seto grimaced as he stomped into another puddle. His boots were now caked with a layer of mud, his face and hands sporting fine cuts and bruises. Occasionally he stopped to glare over his shoulder at the effervescent cloud of light still floating above the lawn and patio, snorted, and continued trudging deeper into the darkness.

He hadn't told Mokuba that the dreams had come back. Worse than they had ever been before. Gone were the cold blue flames that had melted the dreams of his childhood into hot, shimmering plasma—in their place were the tight corners, bound hands, and sad gray-violet eyes that has tormented him while awake.

Mokuba told him that he woke punching his pillow and shouting in a language that they hadn't spoken in over a decade. Seto told him it was nothing and skulked into the kitchen to boil milk.

The edge of the pond came on so suddenly that he would have fallen in if not for the angry sliver of his reflection that he caught glaring back at him. His head was throbbing and his fingers were still stiff from clenching Mokuba's wrist. He could vaguely here the loops and turns of Pegasus' voice, but the distance and the darkness blurred his words into a bleak ribbon of noise.

He tried to bite back the splintering wave of panic that swept over him once he realized what he had done.

He shouldn't have left him—it was unsafe to be alone here.

"You shouldn't have stormed off like that."

Kaiba stiffened. He sounded closer this time—close enough to touch. Strong enough to blow him over.

"When are you ever going to stop telling me how to live my life."

"Hm, that's entirely up to you. When are you going to start listening?"

"Not anytime soon."

"Ah, well lucky for you I'm in no hurry." A smirk rippled through his voice. "I only have all of eternity to wait for you to come your senses."

Kaiba snorted and squared his shoulders. He refused to turn around—even as the footsteps behind him crept closer.

"When were you planning on telling him the truth? He may be thick but he's hardly blind. Much more perceptive than you, actually."

A hungry spark was kindled in his chest. "There's nothing to tell." A scoff from behind him. "It's none of your business!" Why did he have to sound so damn smug? Omnipotence. Right. Had Yuugi found this so insufferable?

"It is my business. You're my responsibility, and I am yours. Or must I keep reminding you?" A sigh—exaggerated for dramatic effect, Kaiba had no doubt.

"I never asked to become the pet project of you or any of your little friends," he snarled. "Why don't you all just go away and stop trying to fix me?"

"We are trying to help you—"

"And you're doing a fan-fucking-tastic job!"

"Uh, Kaiba—who are you talking to?"

He was suddenly painfully aware of the thick sheen of sweat sticking to his forehead, the way his limbs felt too big and too soft, how he was sinking into the mud and the solid ground was crumbling away underneath him. How he had never felt so desperate or hollow.

"No one. Go away."

"Nah, I can't do that. Mokuba's looking for you—he wants to leave soon." When Kaiba didn't respond Jounouchi crept closer—trying not to notice the mud seeping in through the holes in his shoes. "Hey—you okay?"

"Never been better." He held out his hand, making sure Jounouchi got a good look at his cellphone in the moonlight. "You know they make these devices now that allow you to talk to people without standing right in front of them. Amazing how far society has advanced in the past few thousand years, isn't it?"

"Ha, very funny, smartass." Jounouchi snatched his wrist. "C'mon—unless you want Mokuba throwing a fit because he can't find you…"

"You can't make me go anywhere." Kaiba sounded terse, but he made no attempt to take his hand back.

Jounouchi groaned. "So you're going to get all stubborn on me, now? Well—fine." He dropped Kaiba's arm but stood closely behind him, fuming and breathing heavily. "Hey, I'll tell you what," he leaned closer, lowered his voice into an ebony whisper, and spoke to the nape of Kaiba's neck. "You come with me now, or…I make you swim the fishies down there."

"Hm, I'd like to see you try."

"Oh, I'll do more than try." He stepped just close enough for the lapels of his jacket to brush against Kaiba's back—a movement as fierce as striking a match against asphalt. Just close enough to feel his ribcage rattle and his back arch.

Kaiba's laugh stung like smoke. The voices in his head were screaming. "If I'm going down then I'm taking you right along with me."

Kaiba smelled like cedar and rosemary and somehow it made Jounouchi feel afraid—as if instead of stealing closer he should have been turning around and running as fast as he could in the opposite direction. He wondered what he smelled like—if the downiness and light of Yuugi's house had rubbed off on him or if he still stunk like saltwater, mold, and blood.

Kaiba's eyes flickered in his direction and he felt like his face had been set on fire. Hadn't this been what he had wanted? Hadn't this been the vision that had flickered on and off in the back of his mind as he had smoothed his hair, practiced lacing his tie in the mirror? That furtive dream was exhumed now—but it daunted him like death.

"You never went." His voice as eerily still as the silence that rings in the moments before a shotgun blast—completely oblivious to its impending destruction.

"Huh?"

Kaiba rolled his eyes and slowly turned to face him. He bit his lip. His eyes were glowing, narrow, fierce. "Tell me something that you've never done."

"Hey! Well I don't know if I can remember right now…" Jounouchi took a hasty step back and rubbed the back of his head. "I-I can't concentrate with you staring at me like that! It's creepy."

Kaiba smirked. "Try." He leaned close enough to lick the words off Jounouchi's lips. "And be quick about it so I can get this over with."

"Uh…" Everything he wanted to say was spinning around the inside of his head in loud fluorescent blasts of red and orange. "I…"

He closed his eyes, tensed his chest, and thrust his shoulder forward—sending Kaiba toppling into the pond.

"W-What was that for?!"

Jounouchi peaked through his fingers to see Kaiba flailing wildly in the muck and darkness.

"You weren't respecting my personal space!"

"Bullshit!"

"It's true. Now you have to pay the price."

"You're such an idiot."

"I just know how to stand up for myself."

Kaiba looked much less threatening coated in a thick layer of pond scum and decomposing leaves, and Jounouchi couldn't help but let out a poorly stifled laugh as he watched him struggle to his feet.

"Think this is funny."

He sighed. "Only a little. I'm sorry, okay? It was just too tempting—I couldn't resist."

Seto snorted. "Impulse control that poor is a symptom of psychiatric disorder."

"Yeah, whatever. C'mon," he kneeled down and extended his hand. "I'll help you."

Kaiba glared. "What makes you think I would accept the help of someone who just shoved me into a lake," he sneered. He wrapped his hand around Jounouchi's wrist and pulled him forward. "And if you honestly believed I wouldn't go through with it then you're an even bigger idiot than I thought."

-xxx-

"I don't know what to tell you, honey. I've looked all over this place and I can't find him anywhere."

Mokuba sighed and rested his hand on this chin. "Well, thanks for checking. I thought he would have come back by now…Maybe I should go look for him."

"Don't even think about it. The last thing we need is two Kaibas on the loose." Mai huffed as she sat down. "Isn't it just like those boys to take off and leave us on babysitting duty."

"I'm not a baby."

"Trust me, by the time you're my age you'll think school kids look like babies, too."

"Jou-kun has been gone for a long time…do you think we should call the security?"

"You don't have to worry, Yuugi. I'm right here," Jounouchi grumbled from behind him.

"Jou-kun…"

"What happened to you?"

"Oh nothing. I tripped." Jounouchi glowered and tried to ignore the pointing and laughter coming from the other guests. As if he hadn't looked shabby enough already.

"Did you find nii-sama?"

Jounouchi snorted. "Oh, I found him alright. He went inside to clean himself off." He balked at Mai's raised eyebrow. "What?! He tripped too."

"Right." She wrinkled her nose. "Well, as much as I hate to admit it, I think you should have followed Kaiba's example on this one. You look like a mess."

-xxx-

Prowling down the gilded halls of the hotel, Seto matched every curious glance with a withering glare. Except one.

"You don't need to look so fucking disappointed."

"I assure you, I'm merely—surprised."

"Right." He continued to storm past her.

"I was looking for you."

He stopped. "What for." He turned—slightly begrudgingly—to face her, suit leaving a murky puddle on the floor.

Isis hesitated before replying. "There is still good in you."

Kaiba bowed his head and smirked. "Of all the bullshit that's come out of your mouth…"

Isis shook her head, eyes wide and dark. "I know what you're trying to do. Don't lie to yourself in order to avoid accepting your responsibilities."

"I'm not lying," Seto growled. He dug his heels into the plush white carpet, forcing mud into the fabric. "For the first time. You—" his voice became brittle and hollow. "You can't just choose to believe whatever makes you feel good when there's no evidence to support it."

Isis wavered closer, trying the find his eyes in the mud splattered across his face. "Then see this as an opportunity to prove it yourself," her face darkened, eyes grew fierce. "And stop trying to run away."

Seto rolled his eyes and groaned. "Why do you care? You don't need me anymore—remember?! Why don't you just go back to where you came from and leave me alone?"

"I can't. My world no longer exists—the promise of the future is all I have."

"And you think I can give it to you."

"No. I expect you to be prepared for it. The world is changing, and if you don't change yourself with it—it will destroy you."

"Don't be stupid. Nothing's changed."

"Nii-sama! What happened to you?" Mokuba stopped a few feet away from him and peered up at him in bewilderment, as if afraid that he would implode on contact.

Seto sighed and grimaced. "Nothing. It was dark. I couldn't see where I was going."

"Hm, okay." He still hovered slightly outside of Seto's orbit, eyes wide and wary. His voice trembled slightly. "I think we should go home now."

Chapter title comes from the song Flaws by Bastille. Thanks for reading!