To paraphrase Louise Rosenblatt, "a story's just ink on a page until a reader comes along to give it life." This in my way of saying, I'd really like to know what you think, and appreciate all reviews.

Gaming Note: NPC stands for Non-Player Character.

CHAPTER 14: POWER OF THE GUARDIANS

Achilles' mother did almost everything right. Alas, close only counts in horse-shoes and hand grenades, and never in the all-important task of baby dunking. For the detail she forgot was the one that mattered most. As she held her son in the River Styx, the tiny patch of infant skin that lay warm beneath her hand never received the water's blessings.

And heroes ever since have been plagued by their own personal Achilles' heels. We think "Superman," we think "Kryptonite" with the next breath. But, in the early comics at least, wasn't Superman's need to hide his true nature even from the people he loved, wasn't his fear that his very existence would put them in danger, a vulnerability too? There's little relief in stopping speeding bullets when the same superpower is as effective a barrier to love.

As Achilles learned, vulnerability can be deadly. But regardless of what the thesaurus says, it's not always a synonym for weakness. Sometimes, as with Luke Skywalker, fighting to save the galaxy and his sister, the things that make us vulnerable make us stronger as well.

YAMI'S NARRATIVE

We'd faced another challenge… a much simpler one this time. Millennium Items hadn't been involved. It had seemed almost designed to prove to both Mokuba and myself my willingness to protect him… to prove not just that we could – but that we did trust each other. Had the game picked up on our conversation the night before? I couldn't shake the idea that the challenge had come into being not to test Mokuba, but to reassure him.

Maybe I was reading too much into things. The line between fantasy and reality was so much thinner here. Perhaps the game had simply decided the terrain was challenging enough. The riverbed had narrowed and wandered into a vista of tumbled boulders and rock walls. We'd been scrambling among them all day. We'd occasionally seen another hiker in the distance, usually inappropriately dressed for climbing rocks. For one thing, the girls had all been wearing high heeled boots.

"That's weird," Mokuba had said after we'd caught sight of the first ones. "Those are NPCs. I wonder what they're doing here. Nisama thinks they're a waste of time. He hadn't even gotten around to writing their dialog. I wonder why he activated them. Maybe he's trying to test out what he can change."

I nodded. It was an encouraging sign that Kaiba had managed to make some changes in the programming.

It was strange being here… it was strange being anywhere. Back in Domino I'd felt vaguely guilty any time I'd been visible. Only the necessity of protecting Yugi could excuse it, since every moment I walked the Earth was a moment stolen from him.

And yet there had been a disloyal charm to those times. I smiled, remembering my duels with Kaiba, picturing him standing before me, power implicit in every precisely controlled movement, the fire in his stare warming me to the life I had no right to desire. He could make me forget that I was a disembodied spirit, that the blood rushing through my veins was not my own.

It was different here. I had found a place where I could be myself without displacing my partner.

I was aware of my body, as if it was an extra companion… of the feel of my fingers digging into the rock crevices, my feet scrambling for footholds, at times slipping on the uneven ground. Even the exhaustion at the end of the day, the feeling of sore and stretched muscles, of sweat trickling down my back, was mine.

It was good to finally stop moving, to rest, to feel the cool night air caress the roof of my mouth with each breath, to have its warmer cousin brush my lip as I exhaled.

I glanced at my companion. At first Mokuba had been buoyed up by the challenge we'd won; the rest of the day's trek had distracted him. But gradually, he'd gotten quieter and quieter, responding to my attempts at conversation with monosyllabic replies.

I'd promised to take care of Mokuba. He was safe, but he was hurting nonetheless. Automatically I searched my mind for Yugi's presence, but I was alone. I'd have to find my own answers. And what ailed Mokuba couldn't be cured by a duel.

I understood. I missed Yugi terribly. In that first moment here… seeing Yugi's face without needing to use his eyes and a mirror to do so, being able to stand by his side as a friend and not a spirit, had been an indescribable joy. And yet, I'd almost have chosen to forgo it, to return all the pleasure this body was giving me, if I could be with him and know that he was safe. Brief as our separation had been, it had gone on for too long.

"Even with the boulders to slow us down, we should reach your brother and Yugi soon," I reminded Mokuba.

He nodded and tried to smile. It was a failing effort.

"I shouldn't have disobeyed Nisama," he said.

I stared at him. It was hard to believe this, and not the mere separation was what was bothering him, but his eyes were bright with tears.

"You can't think he'll still be mad at you! He almost killed himself trying to get to you," I said urgently.

"That's the point! That's why it feels disloyal," he said, rubbing his sleeve across his eyes.

"Loyalty and obedience are not the same thing," I pointed out.

"They are for me! You don't get it," he said fiercely.

Mokuba was right. I'd stood in the center of Kaiba's soul room. I'd never known what had happened to bring us to that point.

"I'd like to. Why are you so worried about seeing him?"

"I'm not! It's what I want more than anything! It's just that whenever I disobey my brother… bad things happen…"

"Go on," I said when Mokuba paused.

"It's funny… it's like I waited my whole life for someone to ask about my brother. But talking about it…" He paused again, then said, "My brother always expected me to obey him instantly. Like if he told me to be quiet – it meant a teacher or Gozaburo was around and I had to shut up fast or we'd be in trouble. It took me a while to understand… if I did something my brother would be the one to…" He paused again. "I could never figure it out… why my brother would get so pale if someone caught us doing anything we shouldn't; our adoptive father never did anything to me. I waited up one night after we'd gotten caught sneaking out during the day. All Gozaburo had said was that he'd see my brother later. I guess I spied on Nisama. I just wanted to know."

"What happened?" I asked as quietly as I could, afraid to scare him into silence… wanting to know Kaiba better, even by proxy.

"Gozaburo challenged him to a chess match. If Nisama won he got to pick who got punished, him or me. That bastard made my brother fight for the right to get beaten in my place."

"Who won?" I asked, knowing the answer, needing to hear it anyway.

Mokuba stared at me. "Before he met you my brother never lost. Not once."

"Some patterns are made to be broken." I tried to sound confident for Mokuba's sake. I wondered how often Kaiba had forced the same note of certainty into his voice. "Kaiba is looking for a true future. I'm sure he'll find it. You both will."

I felt a surprising rush of pleasure when Mokuba gave me a genuine, if tentative, smile, and lay down at my side, his head pillowed against my leg.

"I don't blame him for anything that happened," Mokuba said, his voice starting to slur with impending sleep.

I smiled. "You never do."

It was my turn to take the first watch. I was glad of the time to think.

A child is a heavy responsibility. And yet Kaiba had become Mokuba's father when he'd still been a boy himself. In all the time I'd known him, not once had his shoulders sagged beneath the weight. Or had he held them so erect for Mokuba's sake?

I'd felt sympathy for Kaiba, at times unwillingly. I'd never understood why. And for once, the obvious answer – that he was tied to my memories, to my past – was unsatisfying. I'd come here to discover my identity. Now I wondered, with almost equal urgency, just who Kaiba was.

The twilight seemed to deepen around me; the shadows got darker. I eased Mokuba's head off my leg. I was pleased to see that he didn't wake up. Mokuba was sure it was safe to sleep. I believed that Kaiba would have found a way to ensure it as well. I got up anyway and stood in front of Mokuba, shielding him from whatever was arriving with the oncoming darkness.

I was expecting a monster. What I got were two boys. I gasped as I recognized them, even though I could barely see the older one's blue eyes under the heavy fringe of brown hair. Kaiba was younger than I'd ever seen him, eight years-old at a guess – two years younger than the boy I'd met in his soul room after Death-T. He was in a T-Shirt and shorts. It was strange to see Kaiba – even a miniature Kaiba – attired in the typical outfit of childhood.

He held an impossibly small Mokuba in his arms. Mokuba stared back at me, like his brother all eyes and hair. Mokuba's legs were wrapped around his older brother's waist. Kaiba was bent slightly back to balance the weight. If it bothered him, he gave no sign.

"Let me help you," I said, reaching forward.

Kaiba's reaction was immediate. He hissed, and hugged his brother even more tightly. Instantly the darkness I had banished at Death-T sprang up around them, a barrier and a protection.

Mokuba whimpered as the shadows danced around them.

"Remember what I told you," Kaiba said to him. "We'll be okay. But if you want to be happy you can't ever reveal your feelings. Get a grip on yourself and stop crying."

Mokuba nodded, stifling his sobs.

"If the shadows bother you, just don't look at them. I'll take care of this guy. I'll take care of everything. I promise."

Mokuba obeyed his brother. He shut his eyes and turned his head into his brother's shoulder.

"I'm not going to hurt you – either of you. It's okay," I said.

"It is now," Kaiba said with a grin, gesturing to the darkness surrounding them. His smile was edged with malice. It was also impishly gleeful; he was so proud of his skill in summoning shadows.

"You're trying to protect him, aren't you?" I said, gesturing to Mokuba. "But you're making a mistake. You can't do this alone."

"You see anyone else here?" he taunted.

"I'm here. I'm willing to help, Kaiba. I've always been so."

"Who's Kaiba? You expect me to trust someone who doesn't even know my name?" he sneered.

"I want to help, Seto," I repeated, remembering that the boy in front of me hadn't become "Kaiba" yet.

"You must think I'm stupid. No one wants to help. People are out for what they can get."

"I know about your aunt and uncle. Not everyone is like them."

"Well, either that or they just die. Same result either way."

"Like your father and mother?" I asked.

"Mom dying wasn't Mokuba's fault!" he yelled, clutching his brother even more tightly. The shadows became slightly more impenetrable.

"Of course not," I agreed as calmly as I could. As often happened with Kaiba, I had the sense I was speaking to a wild, woodland animal, that I had to be careful not to startle him into retreat – or attack.

He stared at me suspiciously, but relaxed his hold just a little. The shadows lightened slightly. It was frightening how completely they responded to his mood.

"Did anyone say it was?" I asked.

"Of course not," he said. His grin widened. I couldn't quite call it a lie – despite the words he made no pretense he was telling the truth.

"Sometimes Mokuba still thinks she's coming back, that he's going to get to meet her – like the hospital made a mistake or something. It's never going to happen, of course."

He looked at me. I wondered if he realized a note of appeal had crept into his voice and into the eyes that he raised to mine. Did he want me to tell him that Mokuba's pipe dream could come true?

"No," I agreed as gently as I could. "It's not going to happen."

"Of course not. I know that!" he said impatiently. "Mokuba's the one who doesn't get it, not me. But he's three. He can't help being dumb. It's okay though. I'm smart enough for the two of us until he gets old enough to be smart on his own. My mom said I'm so responsible I was born to be an older brother," he boasted.

"She was right," I said, pleased to see the shadows recede still further although they never truly left. Was this all it would have taken to banish them? For someone to have taken an interest in this curious child, to have taken his welfare to heart?

"My dad said Mokuba was lucky to have a brother like me." He frowned. I knew Kaiba well enough to realize this came too close to disloyalty for him to accept. I wasn't surprised when Seto added, "He was wrong. I'm lucky to have him."

He glared at me defiantly, as if he expected me to take up the argument in his father's place.

"You're both right. You're lucky to have each other," I said mildly.

Seto nodded, satisfied with my answer.

"But I'm the oldest. I like being bigger. It means I'm in charge."

"You're very smart. But if you truly want to help your brother, you must learn to be wise as well."

"I take care of him just fine! We don't need anyone!" he yelled.

The shadows had grown again. He relaxed as he saw them.

"You're a brave child, but dealing in shadows will hurt your brother. It will almost destroy you. You don't realize it yet, but you will."

"I'm not a child!" Seto yelled, seizing on that one word and ignoring everything else I'd said. He was holding Mokuba so tightly, I was surprised the little guy hadn't given a yelp. But Mokuba just burrowed deeper into his brother's shoulder. He followed Seto's instructions to stay quiet and not look. "Kids can be lied to and pushed around and thrown out like the garbage," Seto continued just as fiercely. "They can be separated from each other while a bunch of people who don't even know them smile and say it's for their own good. Well, no one's doing that to me and Mokuba!"

The edge of the shadow seemed to have formed itself into claws. I took a step back, aware that Seto would read it as weakness. But he had to calm down a little or the darkness would overwhelm him right before my eyes.

"They do what I tell them to," he said proudly.

There it was again – the little brat was showing off. I was tempted to wipe that smug smile off his face. He laughed and I thought of Kaiba at Alcatraz, creating a holographic stadium full of people chanting his name, cheering him on. Had he been trying to fill a void eight years too late?

"They listen to you for now," I said. "But that will change. If you keep to this path it will prove to be your undoing. The shadows can not be controlled once you invite them in."

"I can!" he boasted.

I sighed. It was hard to believe that Kaiba had actually gotten less stubborn as he'd grown up.

"What about Mokuba?" I asked. "If being a child is such a bad thing, isn't he a child?"

He frowned. Interestingly the shadows lightened as he considered this new puzzle.

"Maybe he is. For a little while. But that's okay, because I'm the one in charge. So it's okay because we're a team." He nodded, pleased with himself for sorting it out.

I sighed, suddenly aware of why Kaiba angered me so consistently. No matter how many duels I won, he made me feel helpless. I couldn't break through the anger that swirled around him like the shadows in front of me. I'd banished the darkness after Death-T; the rage remained and no matter how loudly I yelled, it drowned out my words. I tried to teach; he tried to impose his own lessons just as forcefully. It was exciting, but that wasn't all I wanted. I could buy his temporary attention with each victory, but the times he listened freely were more precious. I saw so much in him. I wanted to look more deeply still; I wanted him not just to allow my gaze, but to desire it. I wanted him to believe in me.

Mokuba and I had camped in a clearing. The wind had picked up while we were talking. It finally had grown strong enough to topple a boulder in the rock piles that surrounded us. It was too far away to be a threat, but I whipped around at the noise. When I turned back, Seto – and the shadows – were gone.

"Huh? What? I'm awake!" Mokuba said, sitting up.

"A boulder fell. It's nothing. Go to sleep," I said.

Mokuba stared at me. His eyes narrowed until they reminded me of his brother.

"You sure nothing's wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost or something."

"I think I did. I saw your brother."

"Nisama's here?" Mokuba jumped up.

"No. Not really. He was a child."

"Are you sure you weren't…" Mokuba said hesitantly.

"Asleep? Dreaming? I'm sure – unless I've developed the ability to sleep standing up. He couldn't have been more than eight." I hesitated, not wanting to upset Mokuba. But Mokuba knew his brother. His love had never been blind, and he was my companion. He deserved the truth. "Your brother was surrounded by a darkness. No, more than surrounded… he'd summoned it; it was his companion."

"Was he okay?" Mokuba asked, looking around, ready to run after my little phantom if he spotted him.

"He wasn't in any danger he hadn't invited in. I think I was seeing something that had already happened."

"Yeah," Mokuba said glumly. "That's just what he did. He was eight? What did he look like?"

"Small. Brave. Damnably reckless. He was holding you in his arms."

"I always thought of him as being all grown up. Eight. Shit. That's four years younger than me. That's how old he was when we got sent to the orphanage." Mokuba paused then looked at me. "You know how much Nisama must trust you, letting him see something he'd rather die than reveal?"

"I know. I'll live up to it. And I promise, we'll see him soon for real," I assured Mokuba.

"I miss him," Mokuba said. But he lay back down to finish his turn to sleep.

I thought of the child I'd just seen. Seto's face had been childishly rounded, instead of the narrow oval I'd grown used to. Everything about the boy I'd met, except his demeanor, had screamed of vulnerability. I'd wanted his trust so desperately. But was it the trust of a child I craved, or the trust of the man he'd grown into? But Kaiba had come to trust me. It was a fragile, wary trust, born of desperation, but it was real. It was something I could hold onto, something I could hug to myself as my own.

"So do I, Mokuba," I said, but my companion had fallen asleep. "So do I," I repeated to the night air. Even after Mokuba woke up and it was my turn to rest, sleep was a long time coming.

This time there was no doubt; I knew I was dreaming. I was in Kaiba's soul room again. It was after Death-T. Unlike every other time I'd thought or dreamed of this moment, Kaiba wasn't a child. He was as tall and defiant as ever. His eyes burned into mine. There was a challenge in them. My own eyes narrowed in response. He parted his lips. I wasn't sure what, if anything, he was planning to say.

Then, suddenly, we were both in the savannah that had greeted us on our arrival. We were alone. Once again, I stroked his cheek, let my fingers glide down his neck, becoming aware of my own body in the act of touching his. The air felt charged. If a storm was coming, I was ready to meet it. I took a step forward. Kaiba disappeared.

I awoke with a start. I was lying in our clearing; Mokuba was standing guard nearby. His back was to me. I stared at the twilight-lit sky. It was empty except for the faint shimmer of the stars. I closed my eyes again.

SUGOROKU'S NARRATIVE

My grandson had disappeared into a video game. I was going to be able to see and talk to him, to reassure myself that he was okay, that he'd be home soon… because of Pegasus' assistance. A Kaiba Corporation limousine was taking the kids and me to Industrial Illusions for the briefing on how it would all work.

There are times when life stops making sense and you just have to accept your place as a passenger in a vehicle being driven by karma.

It was strange to think I'd never been in the same room as Pegasus until today, never met him. I still hadn't in a way. But maybe you can't steal someone's soul without leaving a sense of yourself behind. I stared at the portrait dominating Pegasus' office. Anzu had described the one in his mansion; this must have been its twin. Cynthia's eyes were sad as she gazed down at her husband. Pegasus didn't meet mine. I thought worse of him for that. How do you kidnap someone's soul and then refuse to acknowledge their existence?

He briefly described how the set-up would work, an explanation I'd neither understood nor questioned. He had finished and uploaded a NPC. Its face now matched mine. I suppose he had enough video of me from when he'd set up his kidnap attempt to perform this more superficial grafting of my face onto the avatar's vacant body. Through a combination of visual imaging equipment, microphones and voice recognition software, I could look through its eyes; it would speak with my voice. Hopefully, by the end of the night, I'd have seen my grandson. That's all that mattered.

We got up when he'd finished speaking. He came over to me as we walked towards the door.

"Do you believe in atonement? Or have you seen too much in your long life?" he asked.

"I've seen enough to know that the person you want your answer from isn't me," I said.

He finally met my eyes then. I was reminded he only had one. It was as haunted as I'd expected.

The limo was waiting downstairs. Possibly it hadn't moved. We got into the back seat. It was wide enough – and the kids were narrow enough – that we could sit four abreast.

"Thank you for letting me be the first to speak to Yugi," I told them.

"Pegasus made it clear it would work best if each person was tied to a NPC that matched them. Who were we going to pick to be the wise sensei? Me?" Jounouchi said.

I laughed.

"Your avatar was finished first. Pegasus said Kaiba had done the most work on it. But we'll be joining you just as soon as Pegasus finishes the rest," Honda said.

"Besides…" Jounouchi paused, then added, "I wouldn't be a duelist at all, man, if it wasn't for you. And you being the first, and being the Sage… it just feels right."

I hugged him. He looked relieved when the limo pulled up to the Kaiba Corporation building. We went to the lab. No one challenged us. Two men in black suits were waiting. They bowed as I entered. One handed me a visor. It was designed to wrap around the top part of my face. When I put it on it would completely cut off my vision. An earpiece and microphone were attached.

"It's one of Seto-Sama's designs. The NPC interactions weren't intended to be broadcast at this stage of their development. You will be the only one able to speak to and hear the players in the game." He handed me a remote and added, "You have access to all of the caves that contain a Sage. You can use this to switch views."

I nodded and followed him to a computer console. A midnight blue leather chair was in front. I sank into it. The chair was as comfortable as it looked. It matched a couch along the back wall.

"I'm ready," I said as I placed it over my head and turned it on.

For a brief moment I was blind. Then my eyes adjusted – either to the visor or the darkness of the cave around me. I wasn't inside the game, Pegasus had been right about that. I was still aware of my body in Kaiba's comfortable leather chair. But the game dominated my field of vision, imposed itself on my sight with an intensity that startled me. I clicked on the remote and viewed one vista after another: deserts, towns full of imaginary people, mountains, all passed in front of me – all empty of the one person I wanted to see.

In the end, I heard my grandson's voice before I saw him. I was staring at a meadow. Farmers were ploughing fields in the distance. Yugi's voice was on my right. I tried to run to him, to wave, to do anything to attract his attention, but I couldn't move outside of the confines of my cave. Pegasus had warned us we were tied to our avatar's locations. Now I understood what that meant.

"Look, it's a cave!" Yugi yelled excitedly. "Let's see if it has a summoning rune! One of your NPCs could be in there."

"Exactly how many times do I have to tell you I never activated that function before an elementary piece of information like that starts to sink in?" Kaiba replied.

I bristled at his tone. But my grandson laughed.

"Then it won't matter if I walk up to it and see if anyone's home," he said.

"Get to one side," Kaiba ordered, his voice as harsh and angry as I remembered. Yet my grandson had insisted he'd changed. "Never stand directly in front of a cave entrance even if you're trying to summon something," he added. "If there's a monster in there, it'll kill you before you can draw a weapon."

"Wait a minute! You didn't activate the NPC function, but you stocked some of the caves with monsters anyway?" Yugi asked.

I could see Kaiba now. He'd moved directly in front of the cave's entrance, although he stayed far back, beyond even a giant's grasp. He had a katana in one hand, a shuriken in the other. More shuriken appeared on a strap across his chest. He was tall and painfully thin. He'd grown since I'd seen him; his weight had not caught up. Despite his instructions, I wished Yugi would come into view. The knowledge that they might walk past this spot without realizing I was here gnawed at me as if my cave was filled with biting insects instead of just musty darkness.

"Let's get this farce over with. It's boring," Kaiba said.

"I will, just as soon as you move out of the way," Yugi said.

Kaiba shook his head. "I need the practice. Mokuba's life might depend on my ability to stay alert."

I still couldn't see Yugi, but I could almost feel him shrug. "Be careful. I have my spray canister. I'm ready to back you up."

Kaiba nodded. I realized they were making all these preparations to destroy the monster they seemed to think might be lurking in my cave. In other words – me.

"If it's the Wicked Worm beast, don't bother," Kaiba said.

Before I could figure out what that cryptic utterance meant, Yugi touched the side of my cave and I was suddenly, blessedly, able to talk and move.

"Yugi!" I yelled as I appeared in front of the cave. Instinctively I ducked to the ground as soon as I became visible. Kaiba's shuriken passed over my head.

"Jichan!" Yugi yelled. He had some sort of spray canister on his back. It disappeared as he ran towards me. He looked healthy, even happy. Can computer generated avatars cry real tears?

I wasn't really in their world. I had no tactile ability. I felt Yugi's embrace nonetheless. I was glad my avatar was solid enough in his world to hug him back. I didn't want to let go, as if he was a child that would only be safe in my arms. Yugi would always be my little boy, but he was growing into a fine young man. I took a step back and cleared my throat.

"I love you, too," I said. "Are you okay?"

Yugi nodded. "We're fine. Honest."

I didn't see Mokuba. But neither my grandson nor Kaiba seemed upset, and they had mentioned him in the present tense. Or had Kaiba been speaking generally? I suddenly wondered whether they knew that Mokuba had followed them – or if they thought him safe at home.

"Where's Mokuba?" I asked, afraid of the answer.

"We got separated. But he'll be okay. He's with…" Yugi's voice trailed off.

"The spirit of the pharaoh who inhabits your Puzzle?" I supplied.

Yugi paused, gulped, and blurted out, "I guess you know all about the Puzzle now – and about Yami. Jichan, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you myself, right from the start."

I had heard about it from Jounouchi and Anzu. It hadn't been a shock. Every time my grandson had entered the room, I'd felt the air of magic, the sense of a prophecy being fulfilled; I'd seen it in action every time he'd dueled. I'd kept silent, watching as he made friends and gained confidence. If there was a spirit in that Puzzle, I was sure it wasn't hurting him. I'd been content.

Perhaps it was cowardly, but I was grateful I'd never met the spirit again. I'd been a young man myself when an apparition had saved my life and handed me a Puzzle. Mercifully he'd remained an abstraction. I could forget the spirit of the Puzzle was more than that, that he was a boy who'd given me his most treasured possession, a boy who'd died before his life could properly be said to have begun. My grandson had been braver.

"It's all right, Yugi. You're of an age to keep secrets… even from me."

"Something happened when we came here," Yugi said "He's a separate person, not stuck in the Puzzle or… you know… with me. Anyway, we got separated. He's with Mokuba. We think they're okay. We can track them, sort of."

Jounouchi had told me Kaiba had left behind a GPS tracker. It made sense he'd brought another one along.

Yugi looked at my avatar and frowned at the words hanging over my head. We each could only interface with this world or its occupants by assuming the identity of a NPC. Kaiba had designed their outfits, but had left the avatars' faces formless enough that Pegasus had been able to imprint our own features on them. But Kaiba had also labeled each character. The words "Senile Keeper of Useless Trivia" hung over my head in gold letters like a sarcastic aurora. I suppose, looking at my robes, it was Kaiba's way of indicating a Sage.

Yugi looked at the words again, then turned to the taller boy, who'd been standing off to the side. It was hard to tell if Kaiba had been giving us some privacy or if he'd simply been uninterested in our conversation.

"That's really rude," Yugi said to him, pointing at my title.

Kaiba shrugged. "I wasn't trying to be polite."

He looked me straight in the eye as he said that. There was a slight tension to his figure. I wondered if it was habitual. The last time we'd met, both of us had ended up in the hospital. I was the elder by far – an old man by now – but I had recovered first.

"How were you able to access the NPC function?" he asked. Unlike my grandson, Kaiba was still armed.

"I knew Anzu, Jounouchi, and Honda would figure something out!" Yugi said.

"We had help from Pegasus," I said.

"What?" Kaiba yelled.

"Mokuba gave Jounouchi and Anzu your program and all the access codes. Pegasus figured out what you were doing and how to hook us in with the NPC functions."

"They gave my top secret program to Pegasus? Were they so deluded by their own friendship speeches that they thought Pegasus was trustworthy?"

"Is it stupidity to recognize that people are capable of change?" I asked with a slightly taunting smile.

He took my gaze and held it with a much fiercer stare than mine. "It's stupid to assume it."

"Well, it worked out great," said Yugi.

"I'll look for Yami and Mokuba, if they come near my sites. I'll let them know the changes you've made," I said.

"Make sure you tell Mokuba it's safe to sleep. He can even lie down and eat in peace." Kaiba held up a GPS tracker. "Sometimes they stop moving. I can't tell if they're asleep or facing a new challenge, or…"

"I'll look for them. I'm sure they're fine," I said.

Yugi nodded, but Kaiba scowled and said, "If I didn't already know you're as ignorant as I am on that score, I'd be reassured by your meaningless assertion."

Despite his haughty tone, it struck me how young he was, as he stood there, arms folded across his chest, like a child rejecting any attempt at consolation. If I couldn't reassure him about his brother, I could at least ease his mind on another matter.

"Pegasus said to tell you that no one has realized you're gone. Kaiba Corporation's stock market value is slightly up from when you left."

He managed to nod and dismiss my comment at the same time.

"The NPCs only have a limited amount of time for any encounter and right now, we can't reappear at the same site until time has passed. I'll have to go soon. I love you," I told Yugi. "Look for the sign that activates my avatar. Jounouchi and Anzu's avatars are almost finished. They should be uploaded soon, and Honda's is close behind."

"This world must have a lot of caves," Yugi laughed.

"Each avatar is tied to a different location. Jounouchi's is a tumble of rocks, Anzu's is a spring or bubbling water," I said, repeating what I remembered of Pegasus' lecture.

"The hardware supporting your connection with the NPCs wasn't designed to stay on for long periods of time," Kaiba said.

"Can it hurt him?" Yugi asked, sounding alarmed for the first time since I'd seen him.

"No, but if the circuits get fried, they'll be unusable."

"I'll be careful. And I'll make sure the others know they can't stay on for too long. I'll look for Mokuba and… Yami, then sign off. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Don't worry about us, Jichan," Yugi said. "Each challenge is based on our overcoming our own fears and doubts. And that means we're going to win."

Involuntarily I glanced at Kaiba. It was frightening to think that my grandson's life might depend on whether the troubled young man standing before me could tame his inner demons. But Yugi was confident Kaiba could do just that.

I nodded to my grandson. "I have faith in you. I always have and I always will."

"I've promised to see that your grandson survives our association," Kaiba added.

Yugi rolled his eyes at Kaiba's words, but grinned. "See, Jichan… everything will be okay."

I looked at my grandson's cheerful face, at Kaiba's serious one. They were the same age.

"I trust you," I told them both.

"Thanks," Yugi said.

Kaiba snapped, "Trust me? I tired to kill you and your grandson. How the hell can you trust me? Has age or senility stolen your wits, old man?"

"Hey!" Yugi yelled. "My grandfather's awesome. How would you like it if someone insulted your…" he stopped short, possibly remembering that Kaiba was an orphan. "Insulted your brother," he finished.

"It's hard to forget when someone tries to kill you," I told Kaiba. "And even harder to forgive when it's not your own life, but your grandson's that's being threatened. But Yugi tells me that you're not the same boy who did those things."

"I'm not any kind of a boy," he said icily.

"Then I'm trusting you to be a man."

The first time we'd met, I'd written Kaiba off as just another spoiled, rich kid who didn't understand he couldn't buy everything he wanted. The second time I'd viewed him as a monster. Now that our paths had crossed for a third time, I wondered who this strange child was.

I sighed and turned back to my grandson. I only had a few seconds left. I hugged Yugi, hoping it would last us both until I saw him again.

Thanks to Bnomiko for betaing this chapter, and as usual, making sure it makes sense.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If it's possible to have a platonic OTP, Sugoroku and Kaiba are mine. Sugoroku is the only character old enough to look at Kaiba and see a teenager. And considering the way he ate Jounouchi and his rebel without a cause attitude for breakfast, I think he'd take even Kaiba in stride. And as often as I pair Kaiba up, usually with Yami, what I think he needs at least as much – even though the time for it is almost past – is a caring adult who is willing to take a parental interest in his welfare.

Oddly enough, I think Sugoroku is also the only one equipped to understand what drives Kaiba and what his stressors are, because he's the only other character who's been responsible for raising a child.

And of course, I'm a sucker for the whole Blue Eyes White Dragon connection…

Comments would be appreciated…