Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or Vampire Hunter D.

I was unable to post this on Tuesday like I had planned, but still, out within approximately two weeks! It really is very busy for me right now, so I do apologize if this wasn't exactly punctual. But hey, beats three years, right?

The end might not be here (obviously too many things would be left unanswered), but I can actually see it over the horizon. This has always been a story with an ending in mind, just the way to get there has been a bit of a trial. I hope those who are reading this far find it worth continuing.

As always, enjoy!

Chapter Forty-Seven: In Good Time

"This is really dangerous."

"What isn't dangerous in this world?"

"What if it goes wrong?"

Bakura grinned at Yugi before he readjusted the bandana on his face. "That's why you'll be waiting in the wings, as they say over here."

"I still think I should come in with you, regardless of what's asked," Yugi pressed, grabbing the back of his friend's hooded gray sweater. It did not move far, blocked by a jean jacket buttoned against the wind. His own leather jacket clinked with zippers, his outfit a call-back to his youth, only sans extra accessory buckles. "You shouldn't have to do this alone."

"Yu—…If they are what I think they are, maybe it would be better that they meet less of us. And right now, we're running on speculation. They might not care if we both—"

"If they're what you think they are, I should be the one going in alone if they ask, then. You could get caught. They don't know me as well."

"But he knows you," Bakura pointed out, flicking at one of the blonde strands of Yugi's hair that wasn't pulled back into a muted ponytail. "So, in that respect it doesn't matter. That, and I know what he'll be looking for when it comes to information about my kid. I'm sorry, but while a certain dragon-enthused friend might be on that list too, I—"

"That dirtied bandage on your face doesn't do much for you," his friend grumbled, trying to turn the conversation. They stood in the dim of a cloudy evening beside a massive skyscraper, out of commission for its original purpose. People ignored them, mulling about in their day to day before the last of the light faded, wanting to use as much of it as possible before turning on the lights that brightened the night. As the pale-haired man shifted, his one available eye drinking in the scene of complacency and hidden dangers, the words of a friendly individual from a small establishment echoed in his mind:

"You might find help in the city up north. Don't know what they're calling it now, but its run by a strange lady."

Bakura could still recall the collective shock and awe of their party reaching what, for all intents and purposes, was a regular functioning city. Sure, the underground city had held its own allure and pride in its rebellion against the world that all but worked to destroy it—but this establishment was a vision that Kaiba had clearly sustained when attempting to pick up the pieces of a broken Domino.

Granted, there were minor modifications to said vision. There was a complete lack of curfew, and precedence had been taken to become as self-sustaining as quickly as possible. Former expanses of grass, parklands or otherwise, had been put to use as farmland. No one spoke of riding in vehicles (cars, busses, or otherwise—the subways were completely off-limits) either; what cars remained within the city limits were used as markers of said limits. Large piles of trucks, vans, and sedans made tall, wall-like structures around what had been carved out as good land. Some areas had these remnants of the past crammed in the alleyways almost as tall as the buildings themselves, a note to all that any building past this was not up to the specific code of their mysterious leader. The city had been condensed to its most opportune areas, and those who chose not to move inward were allowed what was considered wasteful space. This appealed to those they met on their way to the southern gate. These city-less folks were pleased with the changes, happy just to scrounge their way through life being left alone rather than answer to some hidden figure. There was enough safety simply being around the place itself and those outside did enough trade with those inside to claim themselves contented with their lot in life.

That was not to say these individuals were generally antisocial—they just did not wish to be a part of that strangeness within. Many had whispered hushed warnings out of the corners of their mouths at the group passing through as they inquired more about what was within. Some information was helpful but rudimentary at best—stay away from so-and-so because they only had nasty words for outsiders and be sure to try the fish by the wharf. Other bits held more interest. There seemed to be more people out during the evening, like moths drawn to flames of neon lighting. Sometimes civilians appeared more tired than what was considered normal. There was an airport, unused and from the last glance miraculously untouched, but how to get there was a mystery since the erecting of the makeshift metal walls. The library within was tended to well. A quaint motel near the entrance did have vacancies, so long as people did not mind sharing a room. There was electricity, working plumbing for those in the city, and plenty of children living their lives within, perfect for a certain band of youths who were in desperate need of socialization aside from each other. And of course, the most pressing bit of gossip of all:

"I hear she only speaks with those who have questions—at night."

Bakura fumbled with something in his pocket before offering his closed hand to Yugi. The shorter of the two took the item and sighed before placing it in his own pants' pocket.

"I'm not telling you that you can't make your own decisions on this," Bakura explained. "I'm just reminding you that between the two of us, if we're asked to have a one-on-one with her, I'm going, and we're not putting up a fight about it."

"I wish you wouldn't give me that key…"

"First of all," Bakura said, waggling his finger, "it's just a precaution. You know it's better to have your bases covered. Also, I trust you to get them out of here and someplace safer if I mess this up."

"You won't," Yugi chided, and then shook his head. "We won't. If anything, we're probably making things seem worse than they are. It could be that this is just the time she allots to this sort of meeting."

Bakura stared at him; his narrowed brown eye speaking volumes on how much he believed in that statement. It made Yugi snicker into his fingerless-gloved hands.

"Anyway, we should probably cut the 'vague talk' for now and cross our fingers she hasn't bugged this place."

"They said there weren't recording devices until you actually entered the main building. For energy-efficiency."

"I'm sure. Energy-efficiency—with enough lights to make the city look like its day due to go on any minute. If that's true, then at the very least we'll be watched when they turn on. We probably should have been more careful, anyway," Bakura said, grabbing the door handle and mentally preparing himself for what could come. "And for the last time, they'll be less inclined to ask about the bandage and more about the bandana. Be open with removing what seems hostile, and they'll be less likely to ask about what's under the bloody cloth."

"Every time you say things like that, I'm wondering where you're getting them from," Yugi muttered as the door swung open and they passed through the entryway.

"No idea," Bakura admitted. "But it just seems right."

They entered what appeared to be a completely abandoned business establishment: the general air they breathed felt and tasted stale, dead bugs darkened the already lightless tubes of the hanging florescent lights, and plastic plants in the corners of the ground-floor lobby looked faded with the amount of dust packed on their large green leaves. The first clear sign that it was not uninhabited, however, was a fine difference in the cleanliness of the carpeting. Whereas most areas seemed unkempt—over-weaved spiderwebs and carapaces of dead cockroaches resting in the corners of the room, their former owners' scuttling at an end—there was a path of sorts that was clearly maintained, and with the scent of cleaner that cut through the staleness with its linen-fresh bite. A path that led to an elevator, the only thing within that remained clear of clutter.

The pair looked to each other warily before following this clear route to the elevator—one that both guessed would lead down, rather than up when activated.

"Do you think it works?" Yugi asked, hovering his hand over the button. No light shined beneath his palm, and when he pressed it, no mechanical sounds kicked on. They both scanned the area, wondering if they had missed some cue, before the shorter man stopped his search and motioned questioningly at the taller.

"This is where they told us to go," Bakura said, nonplussed.

Yugi nodded. "And I don't think they were lying. There's clearly something more here than meets the eye…"

An unexpected buzzing caught their attention as the streetlights clicked on and bathed them through the windows with their bright light. Outside there was a whoop of excitement as a band of teenagers peeled around a corner, pumping the pedals of their bicycles to their maximum speed. Some shouts of "be careful!" could be heard from those acting as security, but otherwise, the populace milling on the sidewalks minded their business as day-life turned into nightlife. Yes, life continued on in this city, somehow, and certain habits easily returned to those who did not have to fight for their safety.

Once the pair's attention turned back to the button, they both sighed in frustrated laughter at the easy explanation before them.

"The electricity!" they exclaimed at each other, and Yugi once again pressed the button. A loud ding alerted them to the startup process, and unable to contain their excitement, the two faced each other and slapped covered hands for a double high five.

"Even if this person is one of them," Yugi said, as they waited for the elevator to make its way to their floor, "this place is clearly the one with the best chance for success…it's a pity we couldn't stay here."

Bakura gave his friend a half-nod. "It would be nice, but this isn't the end of the road for some of us."

"Nope," Yugi agreed. "Some of us have to play exterminator to certain beings that should have died millennia ago."

"Maybe we should ask her about what insecticide she uses," Bakura laughed, pointing to the corpses of bugs prone to living through the worst the world had to offer.

"Maybe!"

Just before the doors slid open, Bakura cleared his throat and tapped the bandana on his face. Yugi rolled his eyes and adjusted the medical mask that had been resting under his chin up and over his mouth and nose. Purple eyes peered over the upper band at his friend incredulously.

"It looks like we're trying to rob the place," he complained.

"You can't argue sameness if people aren't acting the same. And I'm sure they must have met stranger people by now."

"I don't like these games."

"You don't have to," Bakura said, his tone agreeing with the other even as he spoke. "But this is the game we have to play today."

Entering the coffinlike experience of the elevator, they found they were right about their previous assumption. The only buttons that lit up aimed for the basement, or the second basement below that one. The others remained dark, a note that whoever resided there either knew, or knew of someone who could redirect the course of what used to be at least a ten-story climb and keep it below level. With another press of a button, machinery long silenced in lands just beyond whirred to complete its purpose.

"You don't think we'll get locked in here?" Bakura asked as an afterthought as the doors slid shut.

"Doubtful," Yugi replied, sticking close to the center of the room. "And if we were just tricked into coming down here, they did a terrible job hiding the escape hatch."

But no one had tricked them, and nothing ran afoul as they made their short descent. The worst of it had been resituating themselves to the jerky motions of the elevator as it bounced down then up when it reached its destination. Parting its shiny doors, the pair were welcomed by a sight completely unexpected, even by their expectations.

There was no hint of a basement, period. The welcoming room they faced glowed with warm colors and fancy wood paneling. People who were clearly guards (and of the human variety) stood facing the elevator doors on either side. They remained stone-faced as the two awkwardly passed by them and pivoted to watch them as they made their way to the true main desk. The odor of fresh-brewed coffee was an odd but familiar scent that permeated from around them, mixing with the smells of some indescribable air-freshener. The young woman at the desk gave them a short smile as they approached and tapped the sign-in sheet as if this whole situation was perfectly normal. With careful print, they each wrote exactly what they had practiced, and once done, were directed to a small waiting area with plush armchairs to sit in.

"What the hell?" Yugi whispered out of the corner of his mouth, barely heard through the garb before it. Bakura shook his head in response, his eyes (or eye) just as wide as the other's. He thought the world above had been a blast from the past. As he sat in a seat with a cushion of springy softness he thought no longer existed, hands folded in his lap, he was reminded of being younger—waiting on his father to finish the particulars of some meeting as he tried his best to refrain from kicking his feet in boredom. The decorative foliage around them looked impossibly green and lush; the office-like chattering in distant rooms barely louder than the pop song that played through the hidden speakers (one considered slightly outdated even before their previous society had imploded on itself). Taking in a breath, he let himself feel the full brunt of the shock. Better to think of the most amazing experiences now, so when such temptation was offered it did not trick them into complacency.

Because this was not a normal thing. Taking months to walk through dangerous but fascinating territory had proven as much. People were trying to survive out there, but many were failing to thrive. This place, however, was the complete opposite; a small community that clearly held many of the amenities that the youngest among them had never quite known.

One could chalk it up to good fortune, but a nagging, intuitive suspicion told Bakura otherwise.

They both took an offered cup of coffee, but neither drank of the deep brown stuff, not even when the woman at the desk sipped at hers—blinking bleary-eyed as if she had just woken up not long ago. Holding its warmth was enough…although, Bakura did raise it to his bandana and took in a deep breath through his nose, appreciating the muted scent. Whether coffee or tea, it was a flaunting of wealth to serve something clearly fresher than what was left in the cans in abandoned grocery stores, and at least needed to be valued in some way. He would have felt it wasteful otherwise.

"If I closed my eyes," Yugi said as they waited, following his own words and shutting his eyelids, "I could pretend that everything has just been a bad dream, and I'm just waiting for my exam results."

"I know…" Bakura said, gripping the ceramic cup tighter. He refrained from closing his eyes, all too aware that he could not forget what had happened to him, with the faint whispers of the long deceased not helping. "But try to keep your mind on the now."

Yugi cracked open an eye, viewed the expression on what was visible of Bakura's face, and straightened himself in his seat. "You okay?"

"Nervous," Bakura confessed.

"I'm here," Yugi said, and the hand placed on his shoulder comforted Bakura more than the warmth of the coffee in his hands. He smiled in response, even though the other could not see it.

"Thank you. Same to you."

"I appreciate that."

"So, you're here to inquire about the airport?" A young man, not much older than either of them asked, breaking their conversation. He sported plain business attire, an oddity for its cleanly appearance.

"Yes," the duo chimed, both standing.

The man quirked an eyebrow at their response and attire. "Right this way."

They followed him wordlessly down a hallway whose doorways led to many conference rooms. The scent of newness here did not escape them; somehow, at some point within the last few years, remodeling had taken place. Perhaps this place had once been a basement; or perhaps only in need of new carpeting.

Bakura's stomach churned as he realized they walked along a declining slope, going deeper underground. He bit his lip and told himself he was imagining that the walls were turning gray. His feet were not tapping against tile. The lights were only fluorescent because that was just the style chosen for the building. His lungs burned with a flameless fire in his chest as he fought against hyperventilation—they were in no testing facility. He forced his eyes shut and opened the one uncovered to see the same brown paneling as in the lobby. A shaky breath escaped him, and he whispered a silent thanks that the sound had been lost in the shuffle of a door opening against carpet.

With his senses returned, Bakura realized it had been just in time. The woman that sat behind the desk that faced their arrival glanced up with a sharp, discerning gaze that would have caught such panic easily, even behind the layers of cloth. She paused in a task that did not feel falsified, and one well-kept eyebrow raised as she quietly observed their entrance.

In the light of her office, her eyes appeared brown, her apparel a strange revival of business wear mixed with Victorian fashion. Her mouth ticked in a practiced greeting smile as she calculated, dissected them without standing. Confidence exuded from her; and leaning back in her chair, placing the pen she had previously been writing with beside a rather formal looking document, she made it clear she was appraising them much in the way Kaiba had in his heyday back in Domino City. Thrust back into familiar territory, Yugi and Bakura felt instant relief. They could handle someone like this.

"Good evening," Yugi greeted, attempting to hide his accent and nodding his head a little in her direction with his words. Bakura quietly did the same, letting him take charge of the situation.

"Good evening," she repeated mechanically, although her eyes brightened at their sense of decorum. "I admit, I was a little concerned with who I might be meeting with based on what my people told me."

"Oh? What were you told?"

"That there were two dangerous looking men without common names who wanted to speak with me. Perhaps you are dangerous still, but," she paused, grinning, "at least you have sense to show some respect."

"Why wouldn't we?"

"These things happen. The uncultured masses hang in the balance out there, letting themselves decay when there's so much to use around them to bring them back to fruition. Manners apparently are in that category…the last time did not end so well for those who demanded things from me. I hope this time it will be different."

"We aren't here to demand," Yugi assured, glancing to Bakura who nodded in agreement. Both held back their distain for how the woman waved away the struggles of many out there. Their focus was their task at hand, not debating how less affected cities would naturally fare better. "We're only here to ask about the airport and if you happen to know of any way to…"

"Fuel a plane?" she finished, resting her face upon the tips of her fingers.

"Yes."

"That is quite a bit of effort you are asking on my part," she said, continuing to watch them from her seat. "What if I had uses for that area? For the machinery? Why would I share my knowledge, or resources, if I…say…knew how to produce all you requested?"

"We aren't asking to put you out or anyth—"

"But you are asking for resources. You are asking for aid."

"If you're using the airport, we're sorry for asking," Yugi said, carefully backtracking to test her response. "We can find that on our own, elsewhere. We would just like some help in finding someone who can get us what we need in order to go when all is said and done."

"Why are you two so obsessed with flight? Where do you intend to go?"

Yugi glanced at Bakura, not expecting this turn of events. Inwardly, he cursed at himself. They should have been prepared for such a question. Who would not want to know why they were so fixated on something most people would have deemed ridiculous in these times? This silence was damning.

"Well?"

"Just traveling," Bakura replied instead, also watching how he spoke. He disliked her tone of voice, but forced himself not to let it show. "Nothing more and nothing less, really. We aren't on a schedule or have any place we really want to be—Just looking for a big change in scenery. If you can't help us, or aren't willing, we're sorry for troubling you, and we'll be on our way."

"Yes," Yugi added uncertainly, wondering if this was just another botched attempt. He had been hopeful that they would be able to move on to the next phase. One step closer to finding a final homestead for his family and finally live out the life he intended to live. He knew it was not much different for Bakura. "We're sorry for bothering you."

The woman looked between the two of them and burst into laughter. "I am sorry for giving you such a hard time," she said, once she had calmed. "Do forgive me. I just had to see how you would react if I were to tell you no. Like I said before, it was a bit messy in here the last time. I can't afford to keep refreshing the décor when some ass from the wastes decides they want to try and hold me hostage."

"Someone tried to attack you?"

"Oh, yes. It is a common occurrence, really. One of the reasons I keep my business on the outskirts of town," she motioned around the room with two pointed fingers. Each nail painted a deep red, and rounded to almost a point, swiveled a little in her action. Some of her "proper" guard was down. "Easy access for the strangers; even easier clean up for the crew. Efficiency is key, especially when people are so used to their previous lives. Have to keep everyone happy, you know?"

She stood finally and walked around them, further assessing their attire. "I am quite interested in what you have planned," she said, tapping a finger to her lips. "However, I am not too keen on sharing information with people who will not show me their faces."

"Sorry," Bakura replied, and the scripted words sounded natural coming from his mouth. "It's become a bit of a habit. It makes it easier to travel, especially with someone who easily gets sick."

With that, he respectfully slid the bandana down and offered her a well-meaning grin. Yugi did the same. The woman's shoulders relaxed, realizing that the two before her were young and not as vicious looking as their outer appearance seemed. As Bakura anticipated, she said nothing about what covered the side of his face. Rather, she seemed far more intent on their other clothing.

"Is it very cold out there?" she asked.

"It's getting there. Mostly at night."

"Ah…I suppose I need to get out more often, then," she said wistfully.

"You don't?"

"I am a busy woman," she said, and there was a hint of some accent that eked into her words. Bakura tried to place it and failed. "I rarely leave my office unless it is some dire emergency. This is where everyone knows where to find me. As such, I do what I can to remain stationary. However, to get back to the meat of our conversation, if I give you what you want, regardless what I request of you, you realize I personally cannot offer you a return trip?"

"To be honest, we aren't looking for one."

"And you are only doing this for a change of scenery?" she asked incredulously. The woman turned sharply on them, but neither flinched. Kaiba liked to do that when startling others into telling the truth. They were both familiar with the tactic; Bakura, however, was better versed in the application, having had a few insightful "discussions" with their self-proclaimed "dead-weight" friend.

"We are all we have," Yugi said. "There's no one else tying us here."

"Still, you could make something of yourselves here. Create those ties. Especially if you have the skill you think you do in order to get an airplane in the air and land it safely." With a motion of her hand, the person who had brought them to her turned on his heel and left the room. "We could use that sort of ingenuity."

Yugi scratched at his nose in self-conscious thought, trying to come up with a viable answer. To be fair, if they did stay in this city for a longer period of time, they risked losing some of their own to the comforts of the place. He would not blame them, this was the sort of place he wanted to live out the rest of his days (sans the strange talk), but he worried his own child might hate him if they were to have her become too familiar with what they once had had. He could not afford that. Not with the mission that had been thrust back into their hands. "We appreciate the offer, but we're all sort of dead set on this."

"But why?"

Bakura spoke up once again. "Why not? There's so much more out there that we could learn about, and if there's this technology out there to be used, why shouldn't we try and experience what is left of our world?"

"But it is a dangerous task for you."

Yugi snorted softly through his nose. Bakura glanced at him with a small smirk, aware of his amusement in the strange mirroring of their previous conversation.

"What isn't dangerous?" he said, unable to wipe the expression off his face, even when the woman's expression changed to show her intrigue. "We aren't the type to run from something we want to do, just because it seems unsafe. At least, I'm not."

"So, if I were to say, help the two of you—and possibly ask for a rather dangerous favor in return—you would do it simply for that dream of yours?"

Dream…above all else, that was what had begun this strange exodus. A hazy dream that had followed with nightmares and impossible occurrences. And still, something called out to him, something deeper than the urge to help Yugi stop what they assumed was the cause. Because of something he still could not quite recall—

"I won't speak for everyone, but if you will help us, I will help you," Bakura promised.

"And you?" she turned to Yugi, who had turned, blanching at the idea of so readily jumping into the fire that came with such a deal.

"I…I would have to talk it out with the others," he said. "I have people depending on me back there…" He shared a poignant stare with his friend as he finished. "We both do."

Disinterested in the nature of his response, she again turned to Bakura. "I would have your help?"

"I would be interested in discussing the offer," he expressed, balancing interest and caution in kind. "It's only fair considering we are asking you to trust us blindly."

"Wonderful," she said, sliding out chairs for the both of them before returning to her own seat. "Then let us discuss. Properly. My name is Amelia Carina Lupei. You may call me Ms. Lupei. We will see if we become closer for anything else. To begin…I assume you have—or can—pilot, otherwise this endeavor will hardly get off the ground…"

The rest of the conversation was amiable, and Ms. Lupei expressed the things she could provide them with minimal effort on their part: proper apartments to sleep in, electricity wired to their homes for their necessities, food for the duration. These would all be paid through general work that they promised they and others would do to aid in the general upkeep of the city. Nothing too involved or positioned where they would be missed when they finally left, but vital work all the same for a smooth working community. She explained it would take time (naturally) for her to acquire jet fuel—their main concern—but that with her contacts it was not an impossibility. Who her contacts were, she would not say, but to prove the weight of her words, she called again for the young gentleman who had escorted them. With his return came a gift neither had been expecting.

"Are you certain?" Bakura asked.

"You're giving this to us?" Yugi questioned in tandem with his friend.

She nodded. Before them was a hefty case that held multiple units of walkie-talkies. "For you and your people. It is not much, but it is my sign of good will, and a hope for a fruitful partnership. Too often in this world are we separated from conversing from one another, a terrible waste of what we learned years ago. You may take these on your journey. Everything for them to work is stored in this case, even additional batteries. Easier to use out on the field where there are no outlets, would you not say?"

"Of course," she hummed as they marveled over their gift, "in order for me to house you all, I will need to know a few more things about you."

"Of course!" Yugi invited, relieved and appreciative by her generosity. While Bakura and Mai had experienced the use of this "old" technology made new again, Yugi's band had less luck on that front. As such, it hit him as quite the statement of an extended alliance.

"Perfect. You will no doubt need assistance with carrying this and moving your group to your designated apartments. I will have some of my people escort one of you back while I receive the answers I need from the other. Then, I shall send the second individual back with the information regarding where I will have your homestead situated. My people will help you relocate as I said before, and you will be given your job schedules before morning. Does that sound fair?"

Ah—there was the contentious option that both had been expecting; one that Bakura had been planning to answer from the outset. "Yes, it does," he said, shooting Yugi a warning glance. The man's normally friendly round face had been too honest in its sudden drop, he thought with warmth and a little irritation. Yugi was just too earnest for his own good.

"Neither of you are in any danger," Lupei expressed with amusement, noting the shorter's renewed hesitation. "Since he already has agreed to hear me out, why do you not go to your other friends with my contributions and explain the good news." She paused, inspecting Yugi's expression closely. So close that Yugi actually longed to pull the mask back over his face to hide whatever might betray him. "This is good news, correct?"

"Very good news," Yugi said, nodding again in gratitude, although trepidation flowed through him. "Paired with a very generous person." He gave Bakura one last look before being escorted out, his arms full of questionably gained aid. His leather jacket squeaked as he shifted his shoulders to carry the load and he exited the room with the key to his friend's motel room tucked safely in his pants' pocket, prepared if the worst was to happen.

The aura of desperation still reached out to Bakura, however, and he could swear there was a different taste in the air as the two were left alone. He sensed Yugi was awakening to something related to his former powers as he had deduced; albeit the progress was slow and the form of whatever being evoked remained non-existent. Was it because of Yugi's former acceptance into a life without it? Or was it because he had not received an awakening trauma, such as he assessed Kaiba and himself had gone through?

Regardless of the answers, he turned his attention back to the woman standing before him. His quarry lay there.

"Your friend seems concerned," Lupei observed, loosening her bun and running her manicured fingers through her wavy hair.

"We've run into a bit of bad luck," Bakura replied. "We all have become a little wary, even to good outcomes."

"A shame," she said.

"Yes, a terrible shame."

He watched her circle him again, noting her soundless heel falls upon the carpet. "The world out there could have been something grand, you know. Had people put the silly squabbles aside and searched for deeper understanding instead."

"Instead, humanity ran headfirst into their own demise," Bakura said, only believing half of what he said. "And no one with the mental fortitude to fix it bothered to lift a finger."

"Such bitterness," she sighed, and suddenly her hand was upon his shoulder, turning him to face her. "But you are so right. Although, maybe this despair will give those prepared a chance to properly see this world through a golden age." Her eyes bore into his, and even for the tinted lighting above, another light deep within the woman herself burned. Something Bakura had assessed long ago became obvious. Her eyes were red. "Are you the type to wish to see such things through? Please do say you are."

Her voice had taken on a sultry tone, her touch one of practiced seduction. He was being assaulted twice-through; mentally, with her words on topics he did feel strongly about, and physically, her hypnotizing gaze eased by comforting hands and dulcet tones. The pull to follow her words, to follow her unspoken suggestions to crane his neck just ever so slightly to the left, to move aside the hood of his sweater for easier access, ached within him in an all-too-familiar game of tug-of-war with his will.

Bakura's lips fell into a lazy smirk. His foe would have to try harder than that.

"I wish to take a trip with my family," he said, breaking the spell placed upon him with practiced precision. His soul—finally realized as naturally strong, just overly trusting—had only been made stronger with his new intuitive lessons and had taken far worse beatings than this. It was only logical that it would take a similar skill to push the hypnotizing suggestion of a minor vampire aside as, say, a spirit bent on obtaining magical items.

The look upon her face was priceless. Crossing his arms, his fingers brushing against the extraction point that he had used to feed D and pepper his bloody face bandage with convincing proof of an injury, Bakura tried not to take obvious pride in being able to resist her powers. "If I have the chance to help people along the way, I'm happy to do so, though."

'Look valuable, not suspicious,' he warned himself.

She leaned a little closer, but whatever she had intended was cut short as she jerked back in unhidden revulsion. "You…smell," she practically hissed.

"Smell?" Bakura asked, feigning confusion.

"I thought it was your friend," she said. "But it was you…why do you smell like garlic?"

"Oh…Oh! I'm so sorry!" he cried, covering his mouth. There was a terrible smile behind it. Yugi did also smell. Failsafe after failsafe after failsafe. Most details had not been left to chance, even if some had fallen through the cracks. "That's just embarrassing. We ate a little before coming here. I didn't get a chance to brush my teeth."

"It smells like you've eaten a full clove."

"Whole thing," he confessed with a hand raised. "It's good for the heart I hear, and I wanted to save some of the decent food for the others."

She peered at him. "I think you are lying."

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "About eating garlic?"

"I…" she paused, took a breath, and then huffed. "You know what I am referring to."

"I'm afraid not."

"But that is impossible," she countered. "Never in my whole history has anyone ever—"

"Your whole history? Sounds fancy."

"No one has been able to shake off my advances!" she shouted, and her eyes flashed with her anger. It was alarming how funny he found her floundering, even with her vicious fangs now in full view.

"Were you," Bakura started, holding in a snort of laughter, "hitting on me?"

This time he had to cover his mouth to silence himself from reacting to the way her eyes bulged. Her sense of austere nobility had crumbled in an instant, and all because of his play at being some "dense motherfucker" as Simon would have put it. He knew he was not out of the woods yet, but he definitely had thrown a red herring into the cogs of her mind.

"I'm so sorry," he continued when he felt he could steady his voice. "You're a beautiful woman and all, but I'm not interested like that…if you catch my meaning."

"Are you daft?" she asked, baffled by his words.

"I'm told I'm a bit 'slow on the uptake' when it comes to feelings like that," he said, unable refrain from pouring salt into the wound. Seeing her pale skin darken at the cheeks told him that was as far as he should take it, however. She had assessed him as quick—intelligent. Pressing his luck any further would make her realize he was playing a game. It was time to be frank and begin the dance around just how much he knew. "Although, if you mean if I recognized you made me feel a little strange there, I'll bite. How did you do that, and what did you do?"

"First, you answer a few of my questions," she demanded. "Who are you traveling with?"

"I'm traveling with a lot of people," Bakura replied with a joking smirk. "Is that so odd?"

"How many?"

"Twenty people, not including myself." He made certain to fail to mention Kaiba. No one had been made aware of his presence, and he was dutifully quiet in his allotted place amongst the cargo. A sort of tit-for-tat bit of warped justice for the treatment offered to Bakura and D during a trying time that was not lost on either of them.

"Any children?"

"Four. They were noted in the prior count."

She began pacing again, her composure returning. "How long have you known them for?"

"Everyone?" Bakura asked and offered her a thoughtless shoulder shrug. "We've been together since the beginning."

"The beginning?"

"Yeah. When all of this started."

Lupei eyed him with scrutiny before her expression shifted, and she motioned with her hand to follow. Bakura did as she asked and trailed her as they went deeper into the bowels of the building. She opened a door at the end of the hall, and they carried on even further. It was clear from this lower construction that she had been a part of this establishment for a long time, perhaps longer than the building above had even existed.

"I admit, you had me worried," she said, letting her voice drop into its natural cadence. "The contacts I mentioned previously have been looking for certain people; I had been afrai—concerned you were one of them."

"I assume that would have been bad?"

She smiled. "It would have definitely been difficult to receive their aid if you had been."

Forcing a laugh, Bakura continued to watch as the building design became more extravagant, the smells he was used to fading behind a growing coppery scent. "With all that we've seen in coming here, and all you've been able to do, these people must be quite the force!"

"Not at all," she said, pausing to unlock an old wooden door to their right. "In fact, there is hardly a handful of them."

"A handful? Really?"

"From the last intelligence account, four exactly."

"Doesn't seem like enough to cause havoc."

"What they have done is an affront to The Great One," she seethed, as if personally offended by their actions. "The number truly does not matter."

"An impressive title. 'The Great One'," Bakura mused, following Simon's bad example. "Is it like the greatest hits? Or is it…more of a nuanced thing?"

"A title not to joke about," she warned. "Any one of us with sense recognizes that he is above us in knowledge and power. The fact that one of these people that I mentioned had been offered a chance at a new life only to rebuff it is galling enough. But then, to hear that His own son had been stolen away by this very individual? After being one of the few saved from wasting away in humanity's self-created hell? It sickens me."

Bakura could hear the gritting of her teeth from his place just behind her, and held back his own roiling disgust at the blatant misinformation as he said, "If he had all of the resources, why didn't he make short work of it, if he was offended so badly? I mean, his kid was kidnapped."

"I do not pretend to comprehend every move or motive he has. I could speculate all day. He is an amiable sort when given proper respect—perhaps he felt bad for the fool. Perhaps he did not wish to waste a person he spent so many resources on. None of it truly matters in the great scheme of things. I simply do what I can to aid in his vision when asked. What I do know is that this abysmal person has worn out our progenitor's patience, and that we have been tasked to rescue his child, regardless of the feelings our brethren may have regarding the methods of the child's creation."

"Forgive me for asking, but progenitor? Creation? That ability you tried to use on me? Could I get an answer for one of those before we continue on?" Said answer was already known to him. However, in order to ensure their narrative kept them away from immediate danger, he had to play the fool.

Something did fascinate him about her response, though. Some questioned that monster in his creation of D? Was it because of the method, or because of what he was? Probably the latter, if he thought on Ewan's experience. It made him feel worse for the boy. So, he could possibly be ostracized from both sides?

"My, you are a curious one," she noted.

"Information is key," he said, and came to a jarring stop as they passed through a room lined with lavish, antique bookcases. He had seen more impressive looking libraries, but none with the age and titles that this carried. Wandering away from his hostess, he marveled at the extensive occult knowledge hidden away from the world. There was no mistaking what these accounts were meant for.

"I cannot decide if it is foolishness or pure bravery that you possess," she continued. "Either way, to answer your question: we are those that will bring this world to rights in a way that humanity failed to allow us to based on superstitious nonsense and fear. We will show them how to properly respect Knowledge and Enterprise. However, to be fair," she said with a grand gesture and toothy grin, "they may have had right to fear us. We are vampires, after all."

When her reveal received less than the expected fanfare, she lowered her partially raised arms and observed his gaze. His hungry expression. Her smile widened.

"Interested?" she asked, placing a hand on his arm.

"I've looked into a thing or two…"

"If you agree to help me in my search for a necessary component to keep this city running, as well as keep an eye out for that little band I was talking about, I will teach you all that are in these books, and more."

His eyes lit up at the prospect. Remnants of a past hobby now made necessary awoke as tomes he would have scrimped, saved, and searched for lay at his fingertips. Ways to protect them all; things to possibly teach D to better understand a certain side of himself…

"What would you have me do?"

"That's a good man," she crooned, pulling out a great book from the nearest shelf. "It is all about infrastructure, and upkeep to keep a place such as this from falling to pieces. There is a certain panel that is shorting out in our water treatment facility. I need someone smart enough, and brave enough to find the replacement and bring it back here. We need to keep the people happy after all."

"Happy people…must make for happy donors."

That got her laughing in earnest. "Quite," she said, wiping at her eye as if a tear had formed. "I have a map and have marked a few places that should have what we are looking for, but with time and how the world is, who knows what is really there. Dangers lurk at every corner, and I admit some have begun to form based on my cohorts' inefficient means of scientific inquiry. I would go, but alas, I am a very busy woman, and everyone else under my employ capable of such a task have prior engagements. You see why I had to find the right sort, yes?"

"If you bit me, how would that have worked?" he asked, mocking her choice while reminding her he did not forget things so easily.

"Oh, you would have been fine. I would not have taken much or changed you. It would have just been…insurance. Since we found another understanding, however, none of that will be necessary. Anyway, let us discuss other matters now. What should I call you?" Motioning for him to sit at the grand table in the center of the room, she placed the book before the seat before tugging on a nearby rope. A soft tinkling could be heard from rooms away. "Surely you were not serious about the names you both wrote?"

"Just Dream Eater," Bakura confirmed, touching his right hand to his left breast pocket. The pin lay hidden within; while the pin could have been a giveaway with the name of the settlement etched in the metal, the stage name was not. He had not uttered it to any bystander that was not already following them since leaving the underground establishment behind, so there would be no risk to the city's safety or their own. Moreover, he could not trust this one with his name. There was a high chance she knew what they looked like, and a higher chance that she had the name of this mystery person that had the son of her lord amongst the ranks of their errant band.

He smiled, thinking of Jael, and gave a playful bow before sitting. The more he did not act himself, the better. He would take a leaf out of her book, and one out of a past just out of his conscious reach. It was imperative to get them what they needed and was it not fitting to steal it away, right under the nose of their enemy?

"Why?" Lupei asked, vexed by his choice.

"Why not? We were given a name at birth; it doesn't mean we have to keep it."

"Well…Game King seems to be a bit pretentious."

"Play a round of poker with him, and see if you come out winning," Bakura replied, hardly containing his laugher.

"You are aware he could be cheating."

"Never been able to prove it."

"Is that so—ah—here he is," she said, taking her seat at the head of the table beside Bakura. She lifted her hand and grabbed hold of the fine stem of the wine glass provided by the individual that had just entered the room. "While today he is attending to me at my request, he will actually act as your contact. He may also be more to your…tastes." She gave another wide smile before sipping upon the dark red liquid in the glass.

Bakura dragged his eyes away from the detailed inked image of the first page to greet who she was speaking of. An unnamed keeper of sorts, then. To be expected. She was busy, and so she would need someone to monitor his work and make sure he was upholding his end of the bargain. Nothing odd there.

What he did not expect was that the pale hand that offered itself for a handshake would lead up to a chest with a familiar blade-like necklace, and up to even more familiar eyes edged with dark eyeliner—one black mark drawing down in a harsh line across his cheek. Well, they would have been more familiar if they had still been green.

That, and he was missing his usual red headband, but he was as unmistakable as the dice earring that swung into view from the left-hand side; an impossibility—but now Bakura could not recall if he had been in town when the attack happened, or traveling with his father to help him with finding more merchandise to sell at their gaming shop. It had been so long ago.

Had he even been at the birthday celebration?

Still speculating, he gripped this man's hand in a friendly gesture while silently praying that he looked unrecognizable. This time, "you haven't changed" would be a death omen. Once again, he was grateful that Yugi had not been one to stay behind. Bakura had no idea how he was going to explain this to him, or how any of his friends would react when they found out. It had been awful enough to lose Honda.

A smile introduced him to two long canines. Those were new, too. He responded likewise, only twisted the grin slightly to mimic a more confident and snarkier version of himself. It felt oddly natural.

"Otogi Ryuji," his friend introduced himself as a stranger would. "Or Ryuji Otogi, if you were born here."

"Nice to meet you Ryuji," Bakura replied, purposefully botching how he knew to respond, internally fretting that his voice would give him away. "The name's Dream Eater."

"Interesting name," Otogi said in return, using his free hand to flip aside his hair in his usual fashion. It appeared thus far Bakura had changed enough to be unfamiliar. Or…if he was aware, he was keeping his mouth shut. "What do dreams taste like?"

"The best way I can describe it is…chicken."

Lupei turned to Otogi and beamed. "Is he not delightful?"

Bakura disagreed. He did not find himself delightful. He did not find this situation delightful. What had seemed like a difficult but doable task now felt insurmountable. He had accounted for so much, but not this. As he swallowed down the feeling of bile rising in his throat, Bakura realized he was already hardening his heart against someone who he had spent much of his high school experience with. Because if the worst occurred…

"As delightful as salt in your lemonade," Bakura replied cheerfully, summoning his inner Jael (or was it Claire?) and sticking out his tongue. A distant feeling of approval pinged in the back of his mind—he was becoming better at improvisation. "You'll probably want to rethink those words, in good time!"

…He did not want to think on it.