Disclaimer! All fictional entities featured in this story belong to Kazuki Takahashi, except Sara Scinner and Silpheed, who are mine. Goodness, can you imagine the rental fees I pay to do this? This has been beta-read by ChazzyLuverGurl.

ATTENTION! After several months on hiatus, I have decided to close this story with this final act. I kind of feel like a cop-out formatting it this way, considering all the effort I'd put into previous chapters, but I feel it's time to move on, to new things (aka, my new OC fic, "Story Of The Century." I know, right?). I'm not very good with endings, but I want to make it a habit to finish stories, so eventually, I'll at least be decent at it.

My sincerest apologies to all of you…and my sincerest thanks, as well.

PS: This is not of any real importance, but I believe I have picked a theme song for these two: "Lean On Me," by Bill Withers.

Act Ten

It felt almost surreal for Zane to see his deck in play by someone else's hand, even if the hand was Syrus's. He could hardly believe how well the cards had been circulating under his brother's control since the duel had begun. The first few turns were a mirror to the unfinished battle from three nights before: Makoto had played DNA Denial Magic to keep Syrus from utilizing the deck's central combo.

From his place on the sidelines, Zane could see that he had been right about Syrus's rigorous training with his deck, evidenced by the rings of scratches that marred his small face and the frustrated clench in his teeth. The deck had already begun lashing out on his brother. It knew that the hands handling it were not Zane's. That his would no longer draw from it.

But Syrus hung on tight. In fact, he managed to make the very move that might've saved Zane if he had only the damn strength to make it himself:

"I activate Rebirth Judgment! Your DNA Denial Spell may keep Dragons from going to my Graveyard, but with this in play, I can select a monster-type, and all monsters already in our Graveyards become that type. I choose Dragon-type!"

Makoto cracked a sneer, but Syrus was far from finished. He flipped out a Spell from his hand: "Cyber Dark Impact! With this, I can take my Cyber Dark Horn, Keel and Edge from my Graveyard, add them to my deck, and Fusion-Summon Cyber Dark Dragon!" The lithe serpent sprang from mid-air with a howl as piercing as the whirlwind it left in its wake, whipping the faces of duelists and spectators.

ATK: 1000

DEF: 1000

Syrus raised a fist. "With Cyber Dark Dragon's special ability, I can choose a Dragon-type monster from my Graveyard and equip it to my Cyber Dark Dragon. Thanks to Rebirth Judgment, all my monsters in the Graveyard are Dragon-types. I choose…Cyber End Dragon!"

Zane's grip on his wheelchair tightened as he watched Cyber Dark attach itself to his former signature card, roaring with hunger as its Attack Points swelled up to 5000. Makoto, on the other hand, had quickly regained his cocky composure. In fact, the instant Cyber Dark Dragon had latched onto Cyber End, his smirk only grew broader.

"Like that's supposed to scare me. Well, runt, I happen to have a few tricks of my own. By sacrificing my Jinzo Returner, I spring my Trap, Crush Card Virus! Now for the next three turns, all the monsters on the field, in your hand, and that you draw will be destroyed if they have more than 1500 Attack Points!"

Syrus watched helplessly as Cyber Dark Dragon and Cyber End shattered into slivers of glass over his head. "No way!"

"Believe it, runt! Now, I demand that you show me your hand!"

Syrus complied. "Sorry, no monsters," he said behind his two Spells, trying his best to keep a straight face. Even so, Zane doubted that his brother had noticed his and Jaden's presence on the sidelines, yet.

Makoto just snickered. "No matter. Having sacrificed my Returner, I can now activate its special ability, in order to resurrect my Jinzo from the Graveyard!" The android arose in a curtain of hissing electricity that lit up the otherwise dark beach like a spotlight.

ATK: 2400

DEF: 1500

Syrus narrowed his eyes at the grotesque creature. "You must've had this planned all along, didn't you? In the duel against my brother…"

"And why wouldn't I? Behold the signature monster of my dojo, with an ability that you should find unbelievable. As long as Jinzo is on the field, neither of us can activate Traps. In addition, any Traps active on the field…are negated. You know what that means, don't you?"

Rebirth Judgment…is now negated, thought Zane. Which means the monsters in either Syrus's or Makoto's Graveyards are no longer Dragon-types.

Syrus set the Cyber Phoenix, who was immune to the Virus, in Defense Mode.

DEF: 1600

Makoto tossed his head. "It's too bad that you only have the strategies you learned from your lame brother to fall back on. Not working so well for you, are they? I almost pity you. Almost."

"Makoto's got the upper hand, for now," said Zane quietly. "But my deck seems to be rotating well in Syrus's hands."

Jaden shook his head, a knowing smile playing at his lips. "You're wrong, Zane. Syrus isn't dueling with your deck."

All Zane could do was look at him.

…

A faint ruckus snapped his neck up. Three days had passed since the decisive duel of the Dojos had commenced on the beach, and things had settled back into relative equilibrium. Of course, Zane had not taken the peace for granted. In the life he led, it was impractical to. Peace could be taken away as easily as it was given, and therefore should have been made the best of; namely, in which to replenish his strength so as to start over fresh.

The ruckus that tore Zane away from his meditation sounded like a distant wail, a soppy lamentation sung out of tune to the accompaniment of eardrum-slicing squawks. He was not alarmed. In fact, as soon as he heard it, he pinpointed the source long before he went to the window to draw open the blinds.

Hn. I haven't seen those two in a couple of days. Now what're they doing?

A certain girl in a Sonic Duck costume cycled aimlessly around the fountain out in the yard on her skates, her latex duck's bill bouncing about from her neck. Her cockatoo stayed perched on her shoulder as they sang in what looked like the throes of a sugar rush. By the sound of it, though, this was not just another Scinner-style happy-rush:

"We're pitiful! We're pitiful! We're pitiful, it's true. 'Cause we ain't got it made—"

"Still can't get laid, RAWK!"

"And we don't know what to do.

Will we ever make our cue—whoa!"

Sara lost her footing, typical of a sad, sugar-high fool who dared to skate under the influence. For a moment, the duo was swallowed in a swell of treated water. A moment later, Zane found them both sitting in the middle of the fountain like two drenched feather dusters, not even bothering to move as the waterworks cascaded over their heads like a liquid umbrella.

She looked dazed, confused. Under normal circumstances—the term "normal" used loosely—that wouldn't have surprised him. She had a knack of looking dazed and confused. But that crazed look on Sara's face washed away underneath the flow, replaced with a kind of confusion Zane didn't recall seeing on her face before, but knew too well from personal experience.

Her bright eyes became dull and clouded, fixed on her toes. The eyes of someone who'd lost something. Or perhaps, found something they wished they hadn't. By the way her face crumpled, she looked as though she'd just tried eating a pinecone.

He sighed, then wheeled over to the bathroom to lift a towel off the rack.

…

Jaden was right. Syrus hadn't been dueling with his deck…at least, not exclusively. The instant Syrus drew this new card, Zane saw him freeze. A closer look revealed tears glistening in his eyes, but not tears of sadness. These were the tears of a sweet revelation trickling down his cheeks, evidenced by the small smile that brightened them. Tears that Zane had never been able to afford to express in the same way, but had felt nonetheless; perhaps the strongest he had ever felt that way.

"Syrus…"

Only then did Syrus turn his head to notice Zane and Jaden on the sidelines. When he did, he quickly wiped his damp eyes dry with his sleeve. "Zane!"

"What's the hold-up?" Makoto demanded. "How's about keeping the fluff outside the field, shall we? Dragonroid has 2900 Attack Points, so my Virus destroys it."

Syrus sent the monster to the Graveyard…and he couldn't have looked happier if he'd tried. "Zane! The deck! It came through for me!"

Feeling it too early, even unnecessary, for words, Zane remained quiet. But that didn't leave his knuckles any less whiter.

"What's that supposed to mean?" scoffed Makoto.

"Instead of explaining, let me give you a demonstration!" said Syrus with a determination that had taken him almost three painstaking years to cultivate. "First I play the Spell, Remove Bomb! I take the top five cards off the top of my deck, and for every one of them that happen to be monsters, you take 300 Points of direct damage!"

He showed Makoto the cards: two Spells, three monsters. Cyber Horn, Dark, and Keel.

Makoto drew back in furious disbelief. "Three monsters?! You must be joking!"

"Believe it, Ninja Boy! That's 900 Damage Points you're looking at!"

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Makoto's LP: 3100

Makoto shielded his face against the triple blast. His Life Points, on the other hand, were not nearly as lucky. "So you knocked 900 Points off of me. Big deal!"

"Oh, but I'm just getting started. Next I play Spell Economics! Now I won't have to pay Life Points to play a Spell. Pretty cool, especially when you're playing a Spell like Dimension Fusion! Now we both get to summon as many monsters that had been removed from the game as we can onto the field.

"Normally, I'd have to pay 2000 Life Points to do this, but thanks to Spell Economics, I don't have to pay a one!"

Since Syrus had been the one losing monsters from the game, only he could take advantage of Dimension Fusion. Not that anyone was complaining (save for Makoto). Not Zane, and certainly not Syrus!

With Cyber Dark Horn, Edge and Heel on his side, Syrus went on to play one more Spell, the one card that connected him and Zane as duelists. And brothers.

"Go, Power Bond!"

Zane felt himself become rigid in his wheelchair. Could it be? Was there still potential left in his deck for such a combo?

Syrus paused for a moment to reflect, raising his head to look his opponent square in the eye. "Jaden…it's like what you told me. In order to duel with this deck, I had to listen to what it wanted. You're wrong, Zane. All this time, you thought you'd reached your limit, that you couldn't do better than you already have. But that's not true. It's just not true…"

Zane glanced over to his old rival, who only glanced briefly back and smiled.

"I'm nobody's poet. But you, me, Jaden…the truth is, there is no such thing as 'the best.' I mean, there's no limit to what we can do. We're always changing, evolving, just like our decks. Just like what your deck's been asking for all along."

Zane had had a feeling that Syrus would catch up to him someday. What he hadn't counted on, however, was that HE would become the one needing to catch up to Syrus.

And yet, he felt not a single qualm about it. In fact, it was then that Zane, for the first time since the duel had commenced—or perhaps the first time since he'd ever donned the black coat—began to relax. A strange feeling washed over him as he watched his brother go on to finish his move: a sort of peaceful release that lightened, if not yet lifted, the burden off his chest. One in which he hadn't felt in so long, he'd all but forgotten its name.

A feeling that etched a tiny smile into his lips.

"Would you look at that? He did it. He's taken my deck and managed to make it his own, but at the same time…"

Cyber Dark Dragon howled over Syrus's head once again, glowing with vigor as its Attack Points rocketed to 2000 by the effects of Power Bond.

Makoto just cocked his head and smirked. "2000 Attack Points? That's not enough to destroy me!"

"Maybe, but you're forgetting something: Cyber Dark Dragon can take a Dragon-type monster from my Graveyard and absorb its Attack Points."

The mere mentioning of this drew a bullet of sweat from the ninja duelist's temple. Suddenly, he didn't appear as confident as he would've liked. "Y-you can't do that! YOU'RE forgetting something: you have no Dragon-types monsters in your Graveyard!"

Syrus snatched up a card from his Graveyard, his eyes hardening. "You know what? You're right: I did forget something. I forgot to tell you that Dragonroid may be a Machine-type, but it's treated as a Dragon-type monster when it's sent to the Graveyard under any circumstances! For a ninja, I'm a little surprised you didn't see that coming."

If it were even possible, Makoto's unruly mane stood on end.

ATK: 4900

"Oh yeah, one more thing: Cyber Dark has a second effect that gives it 100 Attack Points for every monster in my Graveyard! Let's see: nine monsters…that's 900 extra Attack Points!"

ATK: 5800

Cyber Dark Dragon and his new duelist had never looked more powerful, especially to the one on the receiving end of the impending attack they immediately followed up with. "No! You can't! If I lose, th-then my…my Dojo…"

"Sorry, man, but you shouldn't have picked a fight with us if you really cared about your dojo. All right, Cyber Dark! Attack his Jinzo Lord and finish this duel!"

Zane didn't move an inch until the storm passed over and the smoke cleared, when Makoto lay exhausted and humiliated on his back, and Syrus suddenly lurched over, gasping for air. But he remained on his feet.

He helped him up by giving him something he hadn't given anyone in such a long time.

He clapped.

…

"Get out of the fountain, Sara. You're just making a fool of yourself." More than you usually do.

Sara peered up from underneath the cascade, as did Silpheed. "That's our job," she mumbled, barren of gaiety compared to any other occasion. To prove her point, she flapped her drenched cape like wings, like a duck having a splash in a pond.

Unable to take flight, Silpheed fluttered over and latched his beak against the side of the fountain and tried to pull himself out, only to slip right back in when his feet could find no secure footing. Sara knelt in to pick up the shivering bird and place him outside, before clamoring out herself, her head as heavy and dripping as the clothes that hang off her.

As she tried to get up on her feet, her knees buckled from the lack of support under her feet. She almost instantly found herself on her way back on the concrete. She would've made impact had Zane not reached out to catch her by the wrist.

Sara pushed herself up with her free hand. "Thanks, Ziti," she murmured, still not looking up at him as she sat down on the edge of the fountain. Rather than use the towel he gave her on herself, Sara wrapped it around her squirming bird-friend and gently patted him dry. She dug her finger into his crest feathers to ruffle them a little.

She sat Silpheed down with the towel still around him. In the meantime, she began to wring out her cape, her scarf, her hair. As she took off her bucket-hat, she eyed the top of it, suddenly turning white with dismay as she trailed a finger around the black smudges that used to be words. A name.

Ojaman's autograph had washed away.

Sara wiped it up with her elbow. "Sorry if we're bugging you, Ziti," she said softly. "Guess we better go hit the dusty trail."

Zane arched an eyebrow. "That's it? No half-wit comeback? No half-baked joke? What's wrong?"

Sara and Silpheed finally looked up at him, but neither would say a word. A true sign of a calamity (the definition of "calamity," of course, remained subjective). Instead, Zane could see her eyes shining, with tears.

She shielded them with her forearm. "Nothin'."

Zane folded his arms across his chest. "I have to say, I'm a little disappointed. The Sara I know would at least go out of her way to avoid clichés."

He saw her shudder. Whether it was a sob or a weak laugh, he couldn't tell. He never could tell with Sara.

"I just…I don't think I should talk about it. It's…it's too sad. We came here to fix our hearts, not break yours more than it already is."

"Dirty Mike! RAWK!"

Sara looked at Silpheed.

"I think I can handle it, Scinner. I've been around. I've dealt with a lot more than you might realize."

Sara rubbed her eye out with her knuckles and took a deep, shaky breath. "Ojaman hung up his trunks. He's gone back to being Chazz."

Syrus had said something about Aster Phoenix's comeback duel against his "former student." Had Chazz come back to his senses? "How is that sad?"

Sara crammed her tongue into her cheek. "Well, i-that's not really sad in itself. If it makes him happy, then we have no room to say otherwise. It's just that…he was such a great comedian, and…we were hoping that we could've been funny buddies, and—"

"Dirty Mike! RAWK!"

Something more must've happened during the duel. Something that Sara fought desperately to deny or rationalize or whatever it was she did…and was failing.

…

"Mike? Mike! Hey, Mikey! W-wait up!"

Silpheed clung for dear life as Sara raced down the steps, their box of unsold candy bars swinging at her side. She called after him amidst the roar of the crowd, who had instantly shifted their attention to the duelists duking it out on the arena. This time, holding nothing back.

"Cap'n Pink Underpants! RAWK!"

"Where're you going, Mike?"

The producer turned his head to glare at the two of them, not looking nearly as charismatic as he had the last time they had met. It was rather hard to be, since he was currently being led out of the arena by guards on every side of him. In his underwear, no less.

"You again? Where does it look like I'm going?"

"Y-you're coming back, aren't you?"

Mike's scowl melted into a full-blown sneer that almost stopped Sara in her tracks. "Does it LOOK like I'm coming back? Jus—just get outta here, kid!" At the slightest hint of hesitation, the men in black and shades shoved him forward. Mike scowled at them, but kept moving with an ever-growing slump in his posture.

Sara blinked once, twice, thrice.

What'd just happened…?

"B-b-but Mikey! What about—we still haven't—"

Mike turned back to look at them one last time. "Well, I guess it's off, then, isn't it?" he hissed, the stray perch of hair bouncing over his glazed eyes.

Gradually slowing down to a walk, Sara stopped chasing him altogether. She watched Jaden and the cat Pharaoh run after him, carrying Ojaman's empty yellow head in his arms like a gourd, his once springy eye-stalks now hanging limp and lifeless.

Candy bars scattered around her feet as the box crashed onto the linoleum.

Silpheed turned to look over the blank-faced girl, none the wiser, none the richer. "Sara…?"

…

"How could somebody so cheery and nice do something so—so…mean, so…selfish?"

"Welcome to the real world, Sara," said Zane, waiting for her ego to make its last stand against painful reality.

She looked down at Silpheed, who had fallen almost as uncharacteristically silent as she had. His black, beady eyes became almost as dull as her green ones. "That—that can't be right. There's gotta be a mistake. M-maybe he was holding onto that card for safe-keeping, and—and he just forgot to give it back to Aster?"

"Don't you think, if that were the case, that he wouldn't have tried to bring Chazz down with him?"

Jaden's words echoed in her ears: how Mike had pulled such a dirty trick in order to force Aster into early retirement (which only proved Zane right: Phoenix would never retire so soon without the influence of circumstances beyond his control). He could see it in the way her face chipped away, piece by piece. She didn't want to believe it. She would not believe such a nice guy could turn out to be a crooked, manipulative slimeball. But, when had Jaden ever been wrong?

She rested her jaw in the palms of her hands. "He made Aster unhappy. He made Chazz unhappy by making him throw the duel, even though it made everyone laugh. And yet, once it came out that he threw it, everyone was unhappy, too. And when Chazz quit being Ojaman…everyone seemed so happy, than they were before."

Sara proceeded to rub circles into her temples. "Gah, I just don't know, anymore, Ziti! We just don't know…" She glanced up at Zane as if she expected him to have an answer…whatever exactly her question was.

Deep down, Sara wasn't a bad person. Just terribly misguided: clinging to childish inclinations in her search for happiness while everyone else had begun to grow up. While it was good that she finally started to get on the train (better to do it now than to do it when she'd become far too involved with the likes of Mike), Zane certainly didn't feel elated to see her so broken about it.

…

"Listen, Sy. I've been thinking…"

Syrus wheeled his brother up the hill back to the infirmary after everything had been said and done, every move had been made. "Y-yeah?" His eyes were still shining with residual tears. Some things, Zane supposed, would probably never change.

Zane turned to look back at his brother, still glowing with the overwhelming pride he held for him. "This might sound like a stretch, but…I think we should start a new Pro League."

That alone stopped Syrus cold in his tracks.

"A…are you sure, Zane?" he breathed, having always been used to the older one's cool rationality. "You've just only given me your deck; do you really want to make such a huge step?"

Zane nodded. He had never felt more certain of anything thus far. "The current system is faulty. It imposes limits on duelists and won't allow room for improvement. It might take us awhile, but I think we can change that, you and I. What do you say?"

Not having had the chance to cool off himself, fresh tears streamed down Syrus's cheeks. He flashed Zane a watery smile. "That does sound like a stretch…b-but I think that's a stretch worth making. I'll do it, Zane! I-I will! Thank you!" He quickly shielded his face in his forearm as he fought to swallow his sobs.

No, Syrus. Thank you.

…

Hope: what a strange feeling. If it lifted one high enough, they felt compelled to reach out to the most unlikely of people in turn. In their own way, of course.

"Wh-what's it all mean? H-have we been wasting our time? Have we been going at it all wrong?" blubbered Sara. It'd only taken one blatant blow from reality to send her punch-drunk. "I mean, we still want to make people happy, but not if it means…" Her face found its way back into her hands, either unwilling or unable to complete her sentence. Silpheed waddled up to Sara's leg and pressed his head against her shin.

"Well," said Zane, "maybe you'll need to try a different approach."

"But we don't have anything else, Ziti. We're born fools. That's all we know."

"RAWK! Born to be idiots!"

A momentary but thick silence draped over the three, ruffled only by the soft roar of the fountain behind them. Believe it or not, Zane decided to break it first:

"That's not true."

Tickled by mild surprise, Sara and Silpheed looked up at him.

She still had time, even as a third-year nearing graduation. Why, it'd been almost three years since he'd graduated himself, only to find that he still had so much to learn outside of school.

"Listen. I want you to do something for me."

Sara rubbed her eye. "Get lost?"

"No. I want you…to go back. Forget Mike. Forget cheap tricks. You don't have to cheapen yourself and your deck in order to find happiness."

She crammed her tongue into her cheek. "So…what? Are we supposed to just go for the win? Winning's not everything."

Zane shook his head. "It may not be everything. You won't win every time, even if you try. But promise me…that you will learn something when you lose, and you will follow through. Don't back down. Give someone—and yourself—a duel to remember. If you're willing to pay attention, see how much of a difference it makes. Just…try that for awhile."

He could see it in the way her eyes crossed: her trying to wrap her mind around this new aspect. Then:

"Could I keep the costume?"

Well, when it all boiled down to it, the clothes didn't make the duelist. He couldn't tell her to change everything. He couldn't tell her to do anything, really, and expect her to follow it. "Yeah. Whatever."

Sara wobbled as she began to stand up. "How're you feeling now, Ziti?"

"I'm on my way," he replied, deeming it a sufficient answer.

"Do…do you want us to duel you sometime?" A lopsided smile shook at her lips.

Silpheed, who had lost the towel, ruffled his disheveled plumage.

Zane paused for a moment to think it over. He didn't feel it necessary to tell her what he was currently planning to do with his brother. At least, not yet. He wanted to go far, but not too far, too fast.

"…Fine. But on one condition. I don't want you to challenge me until you know, without a doubt, that you are ready. That you will not hold back. That you will not use any cheap—"

She didn't hold back. He hardly got to finish his sentence when Sara, without warning, lunged at him to put him in a headlock. He instantly braced himself for the noogie, but it never came. Instead, Sara kept her arms locked around his neck as she rested her chin on his shoulder. She started making a noise that Zane couldn't quite tell was sobbing or chuckling; both, perhaps? It didn't make it any less awkward, especially since she was still pretty wet. The drenched green feathers from her cape tickled his nostrils.

"Awesome-nity! You really are a good guy, Ziti," she said hoarsely. "Thank you." Zane grunted as her hold on him tightened. Did she always have to make it seem as though she wanted to kill him?

"Yeah, sure. You can let go of me, now," he said with a frown. And after a few more achingly slow seconds, she did.

But not without blessing him. With a kiss.

It was nothing serious: a mere peck in the center of his forehead. That did not make it any less uncalled for, however. When she pulled away, he told her, "Don't push it, Sara."

The previous whiteness in her face bled into a delighted flush. "Find happiness, Ziti. I hope we all find it someday, underneath all the pinecones." She stooped over to take Silpheed into her arms. "Come on, Silpheed! It's time to stop moping, and—and—and start cleaning up our act! G'bye, Ziti! Catch you again!"

Silpheed flapped his wings. "Come up 'n' see me, sometime! RAAAAWK!"

She hopped the gate surrounding the fountain and skated off into the shifting shadows of dusk. Well, at least she wasn't the type to waste time moping.

Zane watched her go, lifting up two fingers to press against his forehead, where she'd pecked him. Never had he felt more fortunate that no one had seen that, especially not Atticus. He would've never heard the end of it.

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. Crazy kid.

END

I wished the ending could have been more definitive. But is that not what life is like? Yesterday cannot be changed, tomorrow never knows. Life never ends. Hopefully, neither does love.