Shinichi Kanzaki had been easy to track down. For a man they called as the world's smartest duelist, he hadn't hid himself very well. He'd locked himself away from the news media and his entourage in a hotel, but he hadn't even bothered to leave the city. Better yet, it was one of our hotels. Shinichi couldn't have known, but we had had our fingers in the tacky little Gardens Inn chain since its founding. A quick perusal of the guest lists was all we needed – not only had we found him, but our reluctant little rat was cornered.
I went myself, dressed in my best suit. To be frank, I liked Shinichi. He was a good kid, a duelist we could trust to defend the World Champion title if he hadn't been so damned proud of himself. The shame he felt was punishment enough for his failure, and I hadn't come to the hotel to punish him. Skill like his doesn't come along every day. We still had a use for him, whether or not he liked it.
I knocked on his door. The staff hadn't announced me, only given me a room number and promised me a spare key if I ended up needing one. He didn't answer. Between his seclusion and the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on his door handle, there was no reason for anyone to knock.
"Shinichi, it's me. Open up."
I might call Shinichi a friend. We spoke often, before and during his time as champion. He knew my voice, and he knew the name Interregnus. It's the reason I'd come personally, instead of sending someone else out to fetch him. The kid deserved to see a friendly face, even if it wasn't on friendly terms. He didn't respond, so I knocked again, louder this time. I can't truthfully say I was surprised that he was being difficult. He'd taken the loss hard, having to face up to it wasn't going to be simple.
A few seconds passed. Silence. "Shinichi, open the door." I tried the handle out of impulse. Nothing. "You and I need to talk."
"There's nothing to talk about!" There he was. His throat was hoarse, he'd either been crying or drinking and I didn't particularly care which. I had his attention. I brought my briefcase up and thudded one end against the door.
"Yes there is. You're not off the hook yet, Shinichi. We have another job for you."
"I don't care. I'm not coming out." Oh, the hell he wasn't. If I had to knock him out with the briefcase and hogtie him, I would.
"Listen to me, Shinichi; do this, and you're off the hook. We'll comp all your travel costs, and you can keep all the cards we've given you, including these new ones." I bumped the briefcase against the door again.
"I can't be seen- wait, new cards?"
"Hot off the presses. We greased a few palms."
There was another few seconds of silence. "Slide one under the door."
"What?"
"Slide one underneath the door. I want to see them."
"No. Open the door, Shinichi, and you can have them all."
"Just one!" I didn't know what he was trying to pull. Shinichi had some weird hangups, but there was a plotting, flighty streak to him. If I slid a good enough card under the door, he'd be able to convince himself there wasn't any reason to come out. I wasn't in the mood for games, in any case.
"Let me lay something out here, Shinichi. This is our hotel, our people run it. You can't hide in here, because I'll be back in five minutes with the master key and the biggest motherfuckers we have on staff. I'm giving you the choice now to open the door and talk with me before I have to drag you out."
"But I-"
"We can drive out of here in the front seat of my car or in the trunk, Shinichi. Choose."
Shinichi didn't answer at first, but I could hear him muttering to himself through the door. I heard a thud, then a shout, then a click from behind the door. I pushed it open before he had a chance to reconsider.
No surprise, his room was a mess. Empty bottles littered the carpet, between them I could see torn-up cards. The place smelled like vomit and shame, I couldn't imagine how he slept like this. "Look at this," I sighed. "What the hell are you doing to yourself? It was one loss, Shinichi."
"It was my title!" I hadn't looked at Shinichi before just then. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, his body looked too thin for the ratty nightclothes he wore, and there was a nasty gash on his cheek. "I lost my title, I lost my deck-"
"You destroyed your deck," I corrected. "Damn it, Shinichi, you can't do this to us. We had a great thing going, and you're making yourself a liability." I brushed all the papers off of the hotel room's little writing-desk and put my suitcase on top of it. "We can't have that. You need to pull yourself together, and you need to do it fast."
"New cards. You said you had new cards," Shinichi cut in quick. The boy sounded like an addict, but I think he felt bad about tearing up his old ones. There was a part of him that wanted a second chance, I knew, and a part of him too afraid of failure to try.
"New and better." I opened the briefcase, showing him the neatly-packed rows of cards inside. "Take your pick."
His grubby, unwashed hands were all over them, and I resisted the temptation to slam the case down on his knobby little wrists. The way he looked them over, I could tell which side was winning. Like a kid on Christmas morning, this one. These cards had the making of a powerhouse deck, I'd paid out of my own pocket to see them packed up and brought over here.
Shinichi made a noise that might've been a sob, if it weren't so happy. He'd realized just then what I knew when I looked them over; these cards could bring Shinichi's ace monster to the field with ease, along with a whole horde of other juggernauts.
"So, do we have a deal?"
