Disclaimer: Original concept and Characters of 'Yu-Gi-Oh!: Duel Monsters' belong to Kazuki Takahashi and his assistants.

o.O.o.O.o

The 22nd of November was probably the best day of my life.

A tournament in an Anime convention which had roving television cameras all over the place,

And I went further than I ever gotten before.

How far did I get?

Usually I do sparingly in tournaments...but this time...

I got Second Place, I got a medal, I got to go on stage to recieve my medal,

I got an interview in front of a camera,

and to top it all off...

I was able to bring my two best friends to their first unsupervised anime convention

and...

Met up with a bunch of cosplayers, my favorite was a rather accurate one of Kaiba (the only thing that was wrong was that his little companion wasn't dressed up like Mokuba, and according to 'Seto' : "That would be too cute.")

If that is not a good day, I do not, and never will, know what is.

o.O.o.O.o

'Just go on to the Airport, I'll see what I can do.'

Those words seemed to echo in his mind, even when he engulfed himself into listening to the songs of his Ipod. The sentence was on a perpectual tape recorder, relaying it over and over again in a volume over the 115 dB volume of the said music player. He was sitting there in his chair, leaning into the plush leather, his head hanging over the backrest, his unfocused sapphire eyes staring at the high ceiling of his room.

'What can I do...?' The brunet pondered, closing his eyes as his reply to Kabuto and Riku resonated in his seemingly hollow skull, reverberating at a deafening frequency.

He raised his head up and gazed at a slightly opened drawer, smiling a little. In a smooth motion, he opened the drawer a little more to reveal its contents: a small number of pencil drawings, all on scrap pieces of paper. Not a lot of people, especially not those pack-hunting urban wolves known as paparazzi, knew that he was quite the artist. Whenever he had no particular thing to do, which was almost all the time, considering school assignments barely posed a challenge for him, and his father only involves him in office work when it was of the utmost importance, he could usually be seen with a pencil in hand, lazily sketching something on whatever paper he could find. Uncharacteristically, but not strange given his lineage, all his sketches were of one sole topic:

Dragons in flight.

Sanryo sifted through the sketches, until he came across one particular drawing. It was, of course, of a flying dragon, but this one was special, because it had one thing that the others didn't: a grounded one in the foreground.

The brunet's sapphire orbs scanned the picture passively. the dragon in the air was silhouetted against a circular sun, gracefully arching its long, lizardlike body, spreading both its wings, seemingly embracing the air around them, as if relishing in the simple glory of being in the bright sky, dancing with the sunbeams. The grounded one, on the contrary, was looking up at the flying one, the detail in its almond like eyes reflecting the longing the grounded dragon felt. Compared to the flying one, even accounting for depth and distance, was quite small, and its claws and horns were more rounded and dull, signifying youth. There were small, jagged shapes nearby the young dragon's body, probably egg shells judging by their curved shapes and spotted patterns. The hatchling dragon's wings, though outstretched, were far too small, and could not catch enough upward lift to counter its weight.

Sanryo took a breath and lowered the drawing, stood up from his seat and strode out the door.

o.O.o.O.o

'Took him long enough to fall asleep...' Kabuto thought bitterly, watching his father snoozing on the couch, his flat cap over his head, visor covering his eyes.

He had packed whatever he could fit into his trusted gym bag without it being too heavy, and made a beeline for the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for his medicine.

Slipping back into the living room, the blond crept as slowly and silently as he could so as not to awaken the sleeping General.

Eventually he made his way toward the front door, and having grabbed his skateboard from the adjacent room, turned back to the doorway to the living room. His amber eyes clouded over in thought. 'Am I really doing the right thing?' He asked himself, before he let out a previously held breath.

Yes, living with the General was never easy, life in the Military can do that to a man. But, going over what Sanryo had said, Kabuto could not help but agree with the brunet on occasion. 'Oyaji has a right to worry about me...' The blond admitted, chewing his bottom lip lightly. His clouded amber orbs cleared as he turned back to the door and creaked it open. 'But your worrying isn't going to stop me. I'm headed for that tournament, Oyaji, even if you're going to send the Air Force to ground me.'

Kabuto silently lay down his skateboard, got on, and rolled away from his house, taking advantage of the slight slope that his house had in relation to the road. After a few dozen yards from his starting point, Kabuto stopped and turned back to his house, a worried expression crossing his features.

'That was too easy...was I right in thinking that Oyaji was asleep?'

He shook his head. 'Of course I am.' He thought to himself, smirking a little. 'Why would he just let me go if he wasn't...?' He assured himself as he skated away from the hill and off in the direction of the airport.

As Kabuto rolled away, the sound of a shutting door echoed down the hill as the General closed and locked up his house, in his other hand he held a sleek black walkie-talkie to his mouth.

"Souridaijin-sama, it's as we suspected. Your orders, sir?"

"Report back to base immediately, I have reason to believe that the koryu will spread its wings tonight as well..." (1)

o.O.o.O.o

"Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate." (2)

Sanryo stood in front of the massive underground hangar, looking down at the passcode panel at its side. Holding a large black suitcase in one hand and letting out a breath, he brought up his other hand, in it one of his handguns, fitted into it a custom-made silencer, into his line of vision.

"What have I done...?" He whispered to himself, closing his eyes to remember what he had done in the past few minutes in the hour before he was due at the airport.

He had decided. He would go to the airport, regardless if it was against his father's wishes. Time had presented him with the greatest gift that he could ever hope to conceive, and fear of his father was keeping his hands bound from receiving it.

'Not anymore.' He had thought as he prepared his things for his flight.

It was strange. He was never one to think that all courses of life were predetermined, and one was bound to the path chosen for him. Or rather, he did not want to contemplate that hypothesis.

He had only packed what was absolutely necessary: a collection of his most ordinary clothing, a pair of everyday sneakers...he did not want to be known where he was planning to escape to. Yet, he had also included a box of bullets for his choice of weaponry, and a couple of items for its maintenance. Of course, he had also included his beloved Ipod and its respective charger, no doubt essential.

As he had left his room and headed for the underground hangar, he had passed by his father's favored room. He stopped in the exact center of the doorway, and craned his head to gaze at the old model Duel Disk that his father had made with his own two hands, for reasons that the Zaibatsu had never chosen to relay to his son.

Sanryo let out a breath, and entered the room after he propped his luggage on the wall next to the doorway. The fireplace was eerily dim, the embers within slumbering until the return of their master and caretaker. Without their warm glow, the room seemed as intimidating as its usual occupant, glaring Sanryo down, daring him to try what he was about to do.

The brunet's normally bright sapphire orbs seemed despondent now, as he raised a hand toward the case and traced a large lock that kept the old machine apart from the rest of the world with his finger.

A breath escaped Sanryo's lungs as clouded blue eyes hid behind eyelids for a moment. He then brought out one of his handguns from its holster, reached into a hidden pocket of his tailcoat, and took out a long shining silencer, which he screwed to the barrel of his gun. His other hand slipped into his other pocket and pulled out a long white handkerchief. Nimbly, he wrapped the handkerchief so that it kept the U-shaped bolt that kept the case closed under tension, while it allowed his hand to pull it from a safe distance.

With his left hand, he placed the tip of the now silenced barrel of his gun to the cylindrical steel bolt.

"Forgive me..." He whispered into the air as he squeezed the silvery trigger of his gun...

...before he fired the bolt clean off the lock and wrenched the case open.

The door to the hangar whirred to life and made itself rise into the ceiling to allow Sanryo entry. As he entered into the blackened room, a pair of dark, familiar, royal blue eyes stared on emotionlessly. They had even refused to falter when their target had left their line of vision.

o.O.o.O.o

"Of course you know, you're to blame for this."

"Now now, if the message if unfavorable to you, don't kill the messenger."

"Don't give me that!"

The Souridaijin raised his hand, alerting the General to quell his temper before things got out of hand. They were now just a little way away from the chain link fence that bordered the large asphalted tarmac of the airport runway. Their location, just behind a large grassy hill, and just out the reach from the spotlights of the tarmac, was seemingly the perfect place for an inconspicuous meeting.

"This is getting us nowhere..." The Prime Minister commented idly. "You do know that once their plane leaves Japanese ground, you will be held responsible for them?" He asked the third person of their trio, the Director.

"I accept the responsibility for their welfare with my pride, career and, perhaps maybe, my life." The Director replied, bowing slightly.

The General was still not convinced. "Enough with the formalities." He growled before rounding on the Souridaijin. "How can you let them go?! You're the one who's receiving the death threats! Not having Yuuhi in the country could just be the greatest mistake you're going to make!"

His conversant had no reply except for turning to the chain link fence and gazing at the lone airplane resting on the tarmac. He had his hands behind him, a sure sign of contemplation, according to the General.

"How can I let them go?" The Souridaijin repeated, bowing his head. His lightning-bolt bangs, although now flecked with gray streaks, fell forward and covered his amethyst eyes. "How could I let Yuuhi go, knowing there's impending danger in doing so, and the all-too-likely suspiscion that he might never come back?"

There was a pause after his words. He turned to face them, his head still bowed.

"Think about it. I am in the exact same position that my grandfather was all those years ago. He had let me go with a smile, albeit a watery one, knowing that even though certain death awaited me, I would return safe. Can I not let Yuuhi have that same support?"

Behind them, the Director's face glinted with his mysterious smile once again. 'Same old Yuugi...'

o.O.o.O.o

"Well, that could've gone worse..."

Yuuhi grunted in reply, tossing his bag up into the overhead compartment. Admittedly, he had to agree with the blond. Mark was unexplainably lax when he had seen Yuuhi arrive with an - with no other word available - entourage. The ponytailed teen slumped into his seat, grumbling over that, rather embarassing, meeting.

As soon as they had reached Mark, the silver haired champion was already casting Yuuhi a questioning glance, his lavander eyes almost signalling his mental question like semaphore.

"The less you know, the better off you are." Yuuhi answered, immediately heading towards the plane.

"Can you at least tell me who they are in a basic sense?" Mark called after him, grabbing his own luggage in the process.

"Travelling companions. Let's just say they're all glued to my hip." Yuuhi was already starting to climb the stairs, Yuugi a few steps ahead of him.

Mark stopped running and chuckled. "Now that's a funny picture."

Irritated, Yuuhi turned around and glared at Mark. "Shut up and get on the damn plane!"

The aforementioned young man the jogged to the stairs. "Yessir!" He yelped.

Before Yuuhi could turn around again, Yuugi quickly flicked him on the back of the ear. "Don't curse." He scolded.

"I definitely hope you're happy..." Yuuhi growled to Yuugi, who was seated next to him, rubbing the flicked ear.

Yuugi didn't reply, but continued to stare out the window onto the almost pitch black asphalt of the runway. 'Right now...I don't think I can be happy Yuuhi...knowing what might happen to you if I don't help Atemu...but I don't even know how to do that...'

just then, two blurs, one blond and another white, zipped past the window and out of sight.

"What was that?"

Then, loud rapid thumping noises rang in the airplane cabin, before Kabuto and Riku burst into view. "Sorry we're late!" Riku exclaimed, panting and leaning against a divider. "Had to take a few detours..."

"Same..." Kabuto breathed, collapsing into a nearby seat.

After a few brief moments of panting, the two finally realized that there were around four extra people in that cabin.

"What the...who're you guys?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Yuuhi stood up and moved towards Mark's seat. "Go." He said simply.

For the seciond time in a few hours, Mark cast him a questioning look. "What?"

"This is a private matter. Head for the next cabin, cockpit, wherever, just not here."

The questioning gaze still plastered on his tan face, Mark slowly stood up and inched his way out of the cabin. Yuuhi watched him leave, then rounded on Riku and Kabuto.

"You two really wanna know?"

o.O.o.O.o

"So...you mean..."

"I know, I know, something out a sci-fi novel. Now just shut it and don't ask. I'm not in the mood to play 'twenty questions'."

Both blonds just stared at Yuuhi, in plain disbelief.

Just then, Mark popped his head into the cabin again. "The pilot says it's takeoff time." He reported.

Riku stood up and looked around. "Hey wait!" he exclaimed after realizing something. "Ryo's not here!"

Mark, looking disappointed, shrugged. "The pilot says he can't make any extensions anymore, we're already delaying a flight by staying on the tarmac."

Mark slipped into the cabin and took his seat. "I guess we have to go without him." He peeked over his seat and grinned at Yuuhi. "Guess you'll have to compete after all, Titan."

"Oh really?" Yuuhi countered, pointing out his window. "Then tell me what's that coming up."

Before Mark could counter, a loud rumbling shook the cabin and its passengers, immediately, everyone rushed to the nearest window to get a glimpse of outside.

Like something from an outer space movie, the large, sleek, gleaming white of the long-inactive Blue Eyes White Jet descended on the tarmac, just a few inches away from their place, with Sanryo in the cockpit.

The brunet pressed a few buttons on his control panel, and raised the glass of the cockpit, before grabbing a couple of his luggage bags and smoothly leaping out of it onto the ground below.

Back in the plane, Jou cast a sideways glare to Seto. "Do you Kaibas always have to have a grand entrance?" He whispered, growling a little.

His reply was a smoothly breathed "Yes."

o.O.o.O.o

"I knew it."

It was in a darkened room of a large mansion where two people, one facing a large, floor-tength, intricately decorated window, were talking.

The other didn't reply, but continued to stare out the window with unfocused eyes, his hands behind him.

"I knew you couldn't chain him forever." The first said triumphantly, crossing his arms with a prideful smirk.

The other looked over his shoulder to glance at him. "And you doubted yourself?" He asked.

The first was a little deterred by his conversant's lack of emotion, although it was common for him to do so. "What made you decide to set him free?"

He did not get a reply, but he didn't need one. He know his companion all too well...his words are portrayed through his actions, and his words were few, simple and to the point every time.

The other turned back to the window, his royal blue eyes staring at the silhouette of an airplane against the moon.

"Tsubasa hiroge...aoi sekai e...ore no Koryu..." (3)

o.O.o.O.o

(1) Koryu: Baby Dragon

(2) An exerpt from Dante's Inferno: "Abandon all hope, all ye who enter here."

(3) "Spread your wings...fly in this blue world...my little Dragon..."

I hope you enjoyed this...it took me three weeks to finally get it all together...gotta do the log-out now.

Later.