Chapter 37: Sound
If he'd wanted, the spirit of the ring could have had his Millennium Item lead him directly to Marik. But there was a more efficient way to do things and that was to secure his place in the gathering that would call to all the Millennium Item holders.
So he headed for a graveyard.
As he walked, the sky darkened until it began dumping out fetid rain, but the spirit didn't react beyond a scowl. The cold bothered him, as did the smell of wet concrete, but the fury of the elements had never stopped him in the past, and it failed to do so now.
Ryou appeared once, the first time he'd ever done so. Apparently the mental strength required to remain manifested was too much for him because he only stayed a moment before disappearing without a word.
No doubt he wanted his body back. Too bad for him. The spirit had no intention of returning the keys.
The cemetery at the edge of town was usually a quiet place, but under the reign of Battle City, it had filled with a handful of duelists who liked what the natural ambience added to their zombie and fiend decks. It was as the spirit had expected. After all, he hoped to give some unlucky soul a heart attack with his own occult-themed combos, and such a strategy felt far more comfortable played out in alleys and cemeteries as opposed to café corners and kids' parks.
On second thought, a kids' park might have been fun. Too bad he hadn't thought of it sooner.
The wet grass creaked beneath his sneakers. Dark stains crept down the sides of each stone marker, giving the graveyard eerie undercurrents of life. Everything the spirit disliked about the rain was remedied by current surroundings—which was a real pity, since it was already beginning to let up.
All active life in the graveyard had huddled beneath a gazebo in its center, taking shelter from the vomiting sky. As he made his way toward it, he scanned the graves for any loose valuables, but apparently the people in this area only believed in leaving flowers. Pity.
"Look what we got here," someone greeted him as he entered the gazebo.
The spirit didn't know the duelist's name, but he recognized the munchkin from Duelist Kingdom, where he'd gone by the moniker "Bonz."
A few other duelists stood around, looking pitiful and weak, like so many dejected rats.
"You're too late, noob." Bonz proudly displayed a set of six locator cards. "I just cleaned this crew out not five minutes ago."
"Oh, good." The spirit's lips spread wide in a grin. "I love one-stop shopping."
Bonz scowled, the lines of his sallow face sinking even further.
Before he could speak, a blanket of shadows erased the gazebo and graveyard from view. All that remained were tombstones peeking through the darkness on all sides.
The spirit shook his head, sending water droplets flying from his long, white hair. It continued to drip from his soggy bangs.
"Let's make this simple," he said, cutting his deck. A drop of water hit one of his cards, and he swiped it away with his thumb. "Winner takes your spot in the finals."
Bonz made all the usual blusters and refusals. He even tried to run, only to have the shadows swallow him whole and spit him right back at the spirit's feet. He quaked like a small dog, but in the end, he agreed to duel. Not that he'd ever had a choice.
The spirit slaughtered him and fed his mind to the shadows. When the darkness retreated, Bonz lay wide-eyed and slack-jawed on the gazebo floor. The other duelists had already fled.
Since Ryou's original Duel Disk had registered a loss in the tag-team duel, it was technically already out of the tournament, and since Bonz had qualified for the finals before dueling a non-tournament entity, his qualification should still be valid. So it was time to head for the finals. With luck, the spirit would claim the Millennium Rod there along with a few other items.
"I'll be taking this," the spirit purred. He bent down and unlatched Bonz's Duel Disk, swapping it for his own along with the locator cards, though he kept Ryou's deck.
A sudden tingle came to life in his skin. He breathed in deeply; the scent of the wet city was heavy with power. The shadows hummed at the back of his mind. The daggers of the ring shivered against his chest. Something had come to town, but it wasn't a new item. No, all the items had already gathered. It was something else. Something ancient and vaguely familiar, like a scent from childhood the spirit couldn't quite place.
Things grew more exciting by the minute. The past was racing forward at full speed, fingers stretched to trap the present. Maybe they wouldn't even make it through the full tournament before everything came crashing down.
The spirit pressed a locator card into each monster card slot on his Duel Disk, sliding the final card into the field spell slot that extended from the end of the wing. A blue map of Domino City shimmered to life a few inches above the surface of the device, a red marker blinking at the location of the finals.
With a smirk, the spirit left the cemetery and its newest body behind, heading for the Domino West Stadium.
Even though Serenity had bandages over her eyes, Tristan couldn't stop fixing his hair and tucking in his shirt. As soon as they met up with Joey, she would take her bandages off, and then she would see him for the first time, and what if she hated the way he gelled his hair or thought his voice was all manly but then his face made her laugh or—
"Any sign of Joey yet?" Serenity asked, leaning into Anzu as they made their way down the street.
And Tristan was reminded of the truth—that once she could see Joey, Serenity wouldn't think of him at all. He told himself once more that it was a good thing. Told himself not to be selfish.
"Excuse me." Tristan caught the attention of a duelist about to pass them on the sidewalk, getting the kid to peek out from beneath his red umbrella. "Have you seen Joey Wheeler around anywhere? Blonde. My height. You'd have heard his name. He announces it in every duel."
The duelist shrugged half-heartedly. "I only made it two duels in. Haven't seen him."
"Thanks anyway." Tristan smiled in what he hoped was a bracing way for the poor kid.
The story was the same no matter who he asked. They'd taken the train from the hospital to the heart of the Battle City area, but with no way to contact Joey directly, they'd just been wandering blind—quite literally, in Serenity's case, although the girl had never once complained, not even when it started raining. Luckily, Anzu carried an umbrella in her purse that she and Serenity could at least huddle under. Tristan didn't like what the rain did to his hair, but he wasn't about to complain.
"Excuse me," he tried again, stopping someone else. "Joey Wheeler? Blonde. My height."
The answer was nothing new.
Anzu had even tried calling Yuugi, since he had her phone, but it had gone straight to voicemail, and she'd sheepishly admitted she hadn't charged her phone recently. When they tried the game shop, Grandpa reamed them both out for not calling sooner to say they were safe, then told them he hadn't seen either Yuugi or Joey in person but he'd seen several wins from both of them pop up on the broadcasted tournament feed.
Tristan should have found a bench for the girls to wait on while he ran around asking people, but he honestly hadn't expected it to take this long to get a lead. He knew every minute waiting was harder for Serenity. She'd sacrificed a lot to come; he couldn't let that to go to waste.
"Joey Wheeler?" he asked someone else. "Runner-up in Duelist Kingdom?"
Hadn't seen him.
Hadn't seen him.
Hadn't seen him.
"I'm sure the next person will be the one," Anzu said, and though her voice was chipper for Serenity, Tristan could see the worry in her eyes.
"Please don't feel bad," Serenity said. She held tightly to Anzu's arm, but her smile was on Tristan. "I know you're trying your hardest."
So was she, obviously. Tristan could see the almost imperceptible tremor in her lower lip.
Clenching both fists, Tristan stepped directly into the road, leaned his head back, and hollered as loud as he could.
"SHOW YOUR FACE, JOEY WHEELER! SERENITY'S WAITING ON YOU!"
Then he doubled over, panting to catch his breath again, wiping the rain from his eyes. He felt the open stares from both sides of the road. He'd managed to stop pedestrian traffic almost completely.
"Tristan," Anzu hissed, obviously embarrassed on his behalf.
But then a girl came running out of a nearby café, grin on her face, holding a jacket up as a shield against the rain.
"You're looking for Joey Wheeler?" she said.
"Yes!" Tristan stumbled forward, palms pressed together. "Have you seen him?"
"Of course! I saw his last duel!"
Tristan's heart stopped.
"What do you mean?" Serenity asked, rushing forward.
Anzu tried to warn her, but she tripped at the curb. Tristan grabbed her arm to keep her from falling. She clung to him, and his skin tingled beneath her hand. Anzu hurried to lean the umbrella over her again.
"His last duel before the finals," the girl said. "You must be his sister. He talked about you."
The worry vanished from Serenity's face in an instant, swept away by an almost literal glow.
The girl laid it all out for them, how Joey had faced a duelist twice his size, some European champion five years running. He'd beaten Joey down to 50 lifepoints, forced him to his knees, and then Joey's luck had turned like the tide. His defense held, then turned to offense, then won.
"It was amazing!" the girl said. "The best duel I've seen in Battle City, hands down. And when he claimed his last locator card, he kissed it, held it to the sky, and said, 'Finals time, Serenity. Wish me luck.'"
Serenity released a giddy laugh. Her fingers held even tighter to Tristan's arm. He was grinning right along with her.
The girl leaned closer, as if sharing a secret. "He got a little mobbed after that because some of the girls thought 'Serenity' must be his girlfriend. So he had to explain."
"Joey got mobbed by girls?" Tristan rolled his eyes. His best friend's dreams were finally coming true.
"Just the usual tournament crazies." The girl smiled.
"How long ago was the duel?" Anzu asked.
"About half an hour, I think. He's probably already at the finals."
"Great!" Serenity squealed. She tilted her face up toward Tristan's. "We just have to go meet him at the finals. I can still see him duel."
"Thanks a lot," Tristan said, bowing to the girl.
She waved him off and returned to her café, smiling.
But Tristan's heart was tight in his chest because he remembered hearing Yuugi, Ryou, and Joey go over the Battle City rulebook together, and he remembered the part about how the location of the finals would only be revealed to finalists themselves.
"We can't catch a taxi in this part of the city," Anzu said, glancing up and down the street. "It's been blocked off to cars for the tournament. We'll have to backtrack towards the train station."
Yuugi had probably already made it to the finals as well. He would have been able to tell them the location if Anzu's phone hadn't died.
Maybe Yori had made it, too? Tristan had never seen her duel, but for Serenity's sake, he hoped she'd knocked it out of the park. If they could get her number from Grandpa, it was their best shot at getting to the finals.
"Where are the finals?" Anzu asked. "I don't think Yuugi ever mentioned it, and I just assumed we would all be together."
"We can take the train," Tristan said quickly. "You guys head that way; I just want to call Grandpa real fast and let him know Joey made it."
"That's so thoughtful of you." Serenity beamed.
If Anzu was suspicious, it didn't show. "Just catch up fast. I don't want to miss the start or get bad seats."
The two girls headed down the street, and Tristan rubbed his sweaty palms together, praying he'd be able to get the location. He'd never be able to face Serenity if he'd brought her all this way only to fail her now.
Yuugi Mutou had a talent for puzzles. He'd never met a picture he couldn't piece together, a mind-bender he couldn't pick apart, or a Rubik's cube he couldn't spin right. Any maze or riddle unfolded itself if he only focused long enough. His dad used to joke that he'd solved his first puzzle before he'd spoken his first word, and his mom used to say his first word was puzzle (although it sounded more like "pa-sa," apparently).
The greatest proof of his ability, of course, was the Millennium Puzzle—something no one else had been able to make sense of. Something that took even Yuugi seven years. But his success in the end spoke for itself.
But even with his ability, there was one puzzle left to him, one puzzle that couldn't be twisted to a solution or built together even with his best attempts, the one puzzle no one could really solve: people.
When Yuugi first met Joey, it had been because Joey and Tristan bullied him. They stole his money, stole his possessions, mocked him after class. And he couldn't explain why he still felt like they were good people or the exact process of how Joey changed to become his best friend. It was a puzzle. Unsolvable.
Seto was the same way. He'd shown nothing but hostility towards Yuugi and his friends, yet Yuugi saw his concern for his brother, and against best evidence, he knew Seto was a good person. Time had sometimes proven him right and sometimes proven him wrong, and how those could both be true was a puzzle. Unsolvable.
So it was no real surprise that despite a large part of him being afraid of Yami; despite the fact that he hated the shadows Yami seemed unable to break from; despite the fact that ever since Yami had become part of his life, he'd brought danger and blood with him; Yuugi still called him his partner. Still called him his friend. And Yuugi would still stand with him through all the shadows and all the danger, and yes, even the blood.
It was an unsolvable, unexplainable puzzle.
As the rain continued to fall, Yami lifted himself on one hand. The glass roof beneath him was honeycombed with cracks, making his vision tilt again. He could see the concrete floor more than thirty stories below, marked with tiny dots of human color, and it was like looking through a spider web that couldn't possibly support his weight.
He wasn't eager to make another long fall—one he definitely wouldn't survive—but as he turned to move, an outstretched hand entered his vision.
He looked up to see the Ghoul, hood down, brown hair streaked with rain.
Yami accepted the offered help, allowing the Ghoul to pull him to his feet. They both backed away quickly from the damaged pane of glass until they stood in the concrete alcove for the stairs.
Yami checked his Duel Disk—the lifepoint counter was blank, but the cards he'd used were still in place. He gathered them quickly, brushed them clear of water droplets, and stored his deck in its pouch. Thunder rumbled in the distance. A cold wind chilled his bare arms. He unsnapped Yuugi's jacket from his shirt and put his arms through the sleeves, wearing it properly.
"You could have won," the Ghoul said. His voice was so quiet, it almost disappeared in the storm.
Yami's stomach flipped uncomfortably. "Not at the cost."
In all honestly, if he would have finished the game out, the Ghoul's penalty may have been light, perhaps even nonexistent. When the shadows filled his mind, he was always certain that they only enacted justice, that they only punished the guilty when he set them free. But while it was true he'd never before faced an opponent in the shadows who didn't attempt to cheat, he also wasn't sure the power in the shadows shared his same ideals of justice. There was a law to the shadow games, that much was certain, but existence alone didn't make a law correct, and there was no way for him to read the fine print.
"This is yours."
When Yami turned, the Ghoul held a clear locator card extended. Yami frowned.
"The match was still going when we returned here," the Ghoul said. He stared straight ahead. "I surrendered."
Yami's frown deepened. "You didn't have to."
A few moments of silence, then—
"I think you took that fall for me. So take this, too."
The corner of Yami's lips twitched into a smile. He accepted the card.
"Is that the finals for you?"
Yami nodded.
"Good." The man unhooked his purple cape, stepped up to the waist-high retaining wall, and draped it over the edge. He left without saying more, disappearing into the stairwell that led to the elevator.
Yami held his six locator cards, watched the raindrops track their way down the clear plastic. He looked out over the city and thought it looked different. Newer, maybe. He wondered what Egypt had looked like, standing on a ledge over the city. He wondered what the city's name had been. He wondered what his own name had been.
And the ache that always came with wondering seemed a little more forgiving this time.
/Thank you, partner,/ he said, /for pushing back the dark./
Yuugi appeared at his side, and it hurt Yami's heart to see the touches of red in his soft eyes.
"I'm an item user, too, you know." Yuugi scowled, possibly the first time Yami had ever seen him do so. "It's not like I never could have made a shadow game if I wanted."
It was a needed rebuke. Sometimes Yami forgot that Yuugi shared many of his own burdens—especially because he did so with such grace.
"You're much stronger than I am."
Thunder rolled again, more distant than before. Yuugi said something, but his words were lost in the noise. Yami shifted closer. The boy refused to look at him.
"You remember"—he folded his arms across his chest, gripped his elbows—"when that fortuneteller took my puzzle?"
Yami nodded. Once the puzzle left Yuugi's hands, Yami had been trapped as a spirit, unable to help. He'd been forced to watch as the man fastened the puzzle to a concrete pillar and set the warehouse ablaze, forced to watch as Yuugi refused to abandon the artifact, even with the danger to his own life. Yami had begged the boy to leave, even tried ordering him to.
In the end, he'd been certain the fire would claim both their lives—or worse, that Yuugi would die, but something would put out the fire before the puzzle melted, and Yami would have to live with it forever, if his continued existence could be called living at all.
That was when Yori appeared.
"I tried everything," Yuugi said, "to get the puzzle free."
Yami remembered.
"But I couldn't."
Yami started to protest that nothing about that situation had been Yuugi's fault, but something in the boy's face stopped him, so he just listened.
"And for just a moment . . ." Yuugi took a slow, deep breath, "I thought, 'This is it.' There was nothing left I could do. And I was so—I was so relieved."
The boy let out a half-laugh, half-sob. He rubbed his hands over his mouth, shook his head.
"Not that I wanted anything to happen to you," he said. "Not that I wanted to lose you—I never want that. But I'd played every card I had, and the game was over, and I was just so tired. Tired of seeing my friends in danger, tired of being attacked. For just one moment, it was over, and I was glad."
Yami rested a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder; he was trembling.
"And I wasn't thinking about what would happen to Grandpa if I died or how much it would hurt my friends. You were right there hurting, and I wasn't thinking about you either." Yuugi took another deep breath. "So don't think you're the only weak one. Because I've made bad calls, too."
They stood in silence as the rain slowly died away to a drizzle.
"When I dueled Marik"—Yami's voice wavered, but he pushed on—"he told me I killed his father. I tried to find the truth in the shadows."
Yuugi turned to face him. "Did you?"
Yami shook his head. "Just more questions. As usual. And I thought I couldn't face more questions without answers, but it seems I can."
A few rays of sunlight trickled through the clouds, highlighting edges of the city.
"Are you ready for the finals?" Yami asked.
Although he hadn't cried as a spirit, Yuugi wiped his eyes. His smile was determined.
"We've gotta stop Marik," he said. "And I want to help you find your past however I can. What about you?"
In answer, Yami retrieved the six locator cards from his pocket and spread them across his Duel Disk. The location for the finals blinked red, and his heart thumped in response.
He was ready.