XV
No one could believe it.
For three full seconds, Kōtsu Mezumi did not breathe. That was how long it took for the figures she was seeing on the screen of her phone to first appear, illuminated by the blinding light of those terrifying monsters attacking them directly, and disappear from view—hurled off the edifice of the Leo Duel School by the combined force of the three-pronged assault.
Her husband, Kishō, was alternating his gaze between Mezumi and the screen still somehow clutched in her hand. She was shaking so violently that there was no telling if she would drop it within the next few seconds, crush it in her grip, or even have it shiver into a thousand pieces.
Ken had already rushed to comfort Nari and Shigeru, both of whom were frozen in place at the sight of the footage, open-eyed and -mouthed at what had just happened to their daughter. Tears were trickling down both their faces. Saya was placing a call, though she was shaking even more than Mezumi, to the point that it took her three times to dial the number she wanted to reach.
"Y-Yuki? Taiyō?" Mezumi heard only the foggiest possible rendition of Saya's words, just barely choked out from her own growing tears. "We just saw—on the Duel School—F-Fuyu is—H-H-Hotene j-just—"
Saya's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment that had no business lasting so long. Then: "O-oh God! … Oh G-God!" And she buried herself in her husband's breast, unable to say any more through her sobs.
Why was she still Dueling? How could she still Duel, after the sight she had just seen? Her mind and body felt as though they were falling the same fall, each as numb as the other from repeated attempts to rationalize the irrational, to calculate the incalculable, turning and twisting in terminal velocity—trying their damnedest to scream they can't be dead please don't let them die let them be saved please let someone rescue them I don't want them to die
I don't want
to die
The precious crystal Masumi had conceived over the course of the Duel was shivering violently on its mental plinth, as if it had become the epicenter of an earthquake so cataclysmic that it might crack the entire planet in two. Any sense of perfection it might have once possessed was now forever tainted; every facet had become so shot through with flaws and impurities that even the slightest touch—the most minute of modifications—would collapse it into sand, to be blown away in the wind that shrieked inside her—around her—
I don't
—she shook her head—
want to die
—felt her empty fist clenching—
don't want to
—heard the gravel crunch under her feet—
kill
—she didn't remember picking a piece up, but there it was—
want to
—nestled in her hand, the size of a bird's egg; she turned it over in her fingers—
kill
—her eyes were riveted to Qrowley … his floating body … his glinting eyes … his smirking face—
him
—that face seemed to grow in her gaze with every passing second … every second that her friends were falling—
kill him
…
KILL HIM
Masumi didn't remember throwing the rock. She didn't remember cursing at the psychotic American at the top of her lungs as the piece of gravel left her fingers, didn't remember the words tearing her throat in half as more and more rocks from the roof somehow appeared in her hands. She didn't hear the rapid thump-thump-thump from the rotors of the circling helicopter, doing its best to drown out all other noise around her. She didn't hear Yaiba calling her name in panicked confusion, telling her to stop whatever the hell you're doing just stop
you bastard
The Fusion Duelist was too enraged to care about these minor details; all she wanted was for every rock in arms' reach to hit the man in front of him—or whatever monster he'd become—right in his ugly, balding, burning face—
you bastard you bastard you bastard you BASTARD YOU BASTARD YOU BASTARD YOU BASTARD YOU—
The rocks froze in midair. So did her arm, still in mid-swing. Seconds later, Masumi's mind froze between one thought and the next as she put two and two together—she didn't want to look—
She looked—and curses by the hundreds went unsaid in her mind, exploding like so many landmines, when she saw the dozen or so rocks and pebbles levitating in front of Qrowley. Surprisingly, most of them were less than a foot away from his face; the Fusion Duelist had to compliment herself on her accuracy despite still being half-blind with her own murderous fury. The biggest of them, while no bigger than a baseball, was still likely to shatter a few bones or circuits within Qrowley's body if they'd struck home.
But all that Masumi cared about was that they hadn't struck home—at least, for a very long moment.
In the next very long moment, she found herself shaking head to toe, more violently than she ever had in her life—even when Hotene, Shen, and Fuyu had been thrown over the edge of their own Duel School. It was not, however, in rage—though the embers of her own anger yet simmered within her brain—but in abject fear. Fear of what she'd done—what she'd almost done. Fear of what it had done to her.
Did I … did I just do that?!
"You're very lucky we're still Dueling," Qrowley said evenly. He was no longer smiling. All the rocks Masumi had thrown at him, save the largest of them—the baseball-sized one—now fell harmlessly to the crystalline pinnacle barely a foot under his feet. They clattered and bounced on their descent, until coming to a stop at Masumi's shoes. "If we weren't, we'd have thrown you off that building with the rest of your friends. And we doubt the fall would have killed you before we did."
A single flame of rage leaped up inside Masumi at Qrowley's dispassionate acknowledgement of what he'd just done, and for a moment her gaze turned as red as a ruby—only to be smothered by the growing, sapphire cold of sudden, inexplicable remorse.
Was I really ready to kill this guy?
For the first time, Masumi's gaze turned to Yaiba. The Synchro Duelist looked sickly white; he, too, was shaking madly, his eyes flitting between the precipice where he'd seen his allies fall, and the one ally he had left. But the terrified look in his eyes made the Fusion user start to wonder just what was terrifying him more—Qrowley, or her.
And worse still—her insides froze at the thought, speared by a thousand icy blades—if he might still be thinking of her as an ally after what she'd tried to do.
Here they were, in the middle of a fight for their literal lives. That fight had rules and regulations—at least, that was what Masumi had thought. But all thoughts of rules and regulations had been tossed off the edge of the building along with her fellow Duelists. For the first time in her life, Masumi had believed she was fighting a fight where anything went—where there were no rules save one: to win at all costs.
And this lack of rules scared her. That she had been willing to indulge in that lack of rules—to sink as low as Qrowley had, even for the few seconds it had taken to launch those rocks at his face—made the Fusion Duelist physically ill. She turned away; it felt like she was going to be sick over the edge of her own school.
"Masumi?"
So soft was Yaiba's whisper that Masumi didn't hear it at first. Even then, she didn't want to believe it; she'd never have thought her best friend could ever sound so lost.
She turned round just in time to hear the Synchro user say three words: "Are you okay?"
Her breath shuddered in her chest. She shook her head. No. This was not the time or the place for words, not even thoughts—it seemed as though she was too far gone, even for those—
She heard footsteps, crunching over the gravel. Yaiba was walking towards her. "I'm not okay, either," Masumi heard him say. She didn't want to turn around. "I don't think I ever will be, after seeing what he just did … "
The crunching stopped, feet away from where she was. She could hear the hum of Yaiba's Duel Disk, its green blade still glinting like an emerald in the setting sun. "But this isn't the end of the world," said the Synchro Duelist. "There's still the two of us together. We can still win this Duel."
How? Qrowley just ki—she mentally corrected herself—took out half our team in a single turn! Masumi didn't even want to think the word. She didn't want Qrowley to enjoy the satisfaction of seeing that look of acceptance on her face—not even for the most infinitesimal of moments.
"Remember what Shen said earlier today?" Yaiba's voice was closer now. "That old Chinese saying of his?"
Masumi blinked. Instantly, she felt herself transported back onto the elevator from Himika's office, an eternity ago, listening raptly as Yaiba's practice partner spoke of how the loss of his sifu had affected him …
"The best I could translate it would be 'not shedding tears until seeing the coffin'—to not give up hope in a losing battle, until the last possible minute … "
She spun around when it sank in. "You haven't given up yet?" she asked.
Yaiba smiled. It looked like it had cost more effort than he'd ever expended in his life, and that was saying something—but a smile was still a smile. "Not as long as you're here," he replied.
A second later he seemed to become aware of what he said, and quickly turned away before any tinge of pink could cross his cheeks—but by then, for some reason, Masumi had smiled too. For a moment too long and too short to be measured, she felt the corners of her mouth stretch upward a fraction of an inch. Just a fraction—but it was enough.
Then it disappeared, and the scowl was back on her face as she turned to face Qrowley once more—but the warmth from that brief moment of bliss lingered still. Because Masumi knew that Yaiba was right—and more importantly, that Shen had been right himself that day. This was not a time to give up—not when there was still a Duel to be fought. The time to grieve for their losses would come … but first, the time to fight for their lives was now.
She took a deep breath, felt the edges of the cards that remained in her Deck—and acted. "My turn!"
As she drew, all else seemed to disappear. The thumping noise of the helicopter's engine faded into nothingness, and all the mad world around her shrank into a single point of light, reflected off whatever card she'd just put into her hand—her eyes turned to look—
And instantly, as if by magic, the stone inside her mind, seconds away from utter destruction, began to shiver and shake a little less than before. She could still salvage her plan—but everything still had to be executed perfectly.
"First," the Fusion Duelist declared, "I switch my Dual monster Amber to Defense Position—and then," she added, as her golden-armored knight assumed a pose similar to its companion Iola, with lightning and fire snaking out of the gems set into its palms, "I'll Normal Summon it, and transform it into an Effect Monster—"
Twitch. "Continuous Trap, activate: Reqliphort!" Qrowley's circuitry had flashed from red to green as the supercomputer he'd enslaved now spoke again. "Each time a Level 4 or lower monster is Normal Summoned or Reverse Summoned, its effects are negated until the end of the turn!"
Crap! Masumi clenched her fist in fury as Amber, armor and all, suddenly dimmed as if a light inside it had been extinguished—that one Trap had just wiped out half of her strategy. She'd been hoping to use the Dual effects of both it and Iola to cycle through the monsters in her Graveyard and the ones she'd banished up to this point. She needed precisely the right monsters in her hand to pull this off; she'd have no chance otherwise—
"Furthermore," Qrowley continued, as the massive panels of the Assembler in his Pendulum Scale began to unfold, showing its glowing innards like some gigantic, mechanical flower greeting the coming dawn, "each time a Level 5 or higher monster is Special Summoned, its effects are also negated until the end of the turn—and if it ever leaves the field, my Trap banishes it immediately!"
No! The twin X's that adorned the now fully-unfurled Assembler—one on top of the other—began to burn with blood-red light. In the next moment, a sphere of energy radiated from the violet eye between them, washing over the entirety of Maiami City and in the time it took to breathe, covering it and every person still within its boundaries with an ominous, amethyst-colored glow. But none of the spectacle mattered to Masumi anymore—not after the other half of her strategy had just been blown away in the wind, like so much sand she'd scooped up from the beach.
For against her will, the suddenly despondent Fusion user had turned to stare at the card she'd just drawn. Brilliant Fusion seemed to stare back at her, as if mocking her plight. It was a card she could have used more than any other in her Deck, but now, it only felt heavy in her fingers—deadweight. Any Fusion Monster it could have helped to Summon—and, for that matter, any Synchro Monster Yaiba could have managed with the paltry cards he had to hand—would instantly be rendered useless by Q's all-powerful Trap.
And worse still, Masumi was aware of what this card did to Q's own monsters as well—and perhaps, she thought, this was why the supercomputer had waited to activate it until after Qrowley had Summoned his strongest monsters. The Qliphort Pendulums in Q's arsenal automatically became Level 4 when they were Special Summoned, or Normal Summoned without Releasing any monsters, and their ATK then became 1800. Reqliphort could negate those negative effects, she knew—which meant that the next time it conducted a Pendulum Summon, it would be with monsters that would instantly gain their full strength. That they would lose their effects for a turn mattered little to Masumi; neither she nor Yaiba had anything on their field with the capacity to beat Qrowley now. And in a Duel where timing was everything, and time itself was short …
She gulped. This was bad. And there seemed to be nothing else she could do. Iola's Dual effect tempted her, but what good would it be to activate it now? It wasn't just the right cards in her Graveyard that she needed—she needed cards in general just as badly. She would have to count on Yaiba, she decided, to give her the opening she so badly desired.
And so she steeled herself. "I end my turn," she finished, before turning to Yaiba. "I'm tapped out for now—please, please tell me you've got something that'll help us."
The Synchro Duelist bit his lip at Masumi's pleading tone. He drew his card—his only card—and pursed his lips. Masumi had the impression he was doing some very quick thinking for a decision he had no business making.
"Well, at least it'll help you," Yaiba muttered after a long moment. He slid the card into his Duel Disk, now as handless as he'd been before. "One card face-down. Turn end!"
Masumi's mouth fell open. She hadn't been expecting much, but was there really nothing more he could do? She'd been hoping for that one Spell in his Deck, Emergency Convocation or whatever it was, that could Special Summon more X-Sabers to his field for a Synchro Summon. If he had to Set it, then there was no way on Earth …
She swallowed, feeling the stone in her mind begin to judder once more, in danger yet again of being destroyed beyond repair.
"Then it is our turn." Q, with green-glowing circuits shining brighter than ever within Crowley's body as he levitated a card out of his Deck, purred the words with animal relish no fusion of man or machine should ever possess. Masumi had the distinct feeling the man had just drawn the machine exactly the card it needed:
"Re-initiate resident program: Pendulum Summon!" cried the supercomputer. "Specify: Level 6: Qliphort Genome. Level 8: Qliphort Alias. Level 6: Qliphort Archive!"
True to Masumi's earlier suspicions, all three Pendulum Monsters now appeared before her, rising from beneath in columns of light that almost blinded her—and, again as she had predicted, things were different this time because of Q's Reqliphort. Each of the trio of gigantic machines looming overhead (Level 6: ATK 2400/DEF 1000, Level 8: ATK 2800/DEF 1000, Level 6: ATK 2400/DEF 1000) was just as lustrous and gleaming in the artificially-generated amethyst skies of Q's Trap as its Qliphort Shell—if not as much as the behemoth Apoqliphort Kernel, its white eye glinting like a second sun even in the gathering dusk—
Q raised both hands to the skies. "Then, we Release our Genome, our Alias, and our Archive to Advance Summon!"
Uh-oh. Masumi had a very bad feeling about what was coming next. The fact that Q hadn't bothered to use the Pendulum Effect of Qliphort Tool told her he'd had it ever since he'd drawn that card. She could only watch as the behemoths opposite her and Yaiba—mechanical and demonic alike, dispersed in the skies to make room for yet another titan of circuits and metal:
"Specify parameters for Release! Level 6, Qliphort Genome; Level 8, Qliphort Alias; Level 6, Qliphort Archive! Energy output exceeding design limit!"
The Fusion Duelist shielded her eyes as Q began chanting in Crowley's voice again, preparing herself for the inevitable—
"System override! Parameters accepted under alpha-sigma protocol, exception three! Initiate resident program: Advance Summon! Specify: Level 10, Apoqliphort Killer!"
And a third sun exploded into the sky, creating a shockwave that sent Masumi into the gravel and almost over the edge of the school once more. She climbed up gingerly, feeling blood trickle from a dozen places on her palms and arms, and squinted in the blinding light caused by the Duel's latest arrival.
Masumi knew the squat, four-legged monstrosity well (Level 10: ATK 3000/DEF 2600) and felt the crystal in her mind tremble for the umpteenth time. It was imposing enough to have seen Killer and its devastating effects for the first time, when Q had been their ally earlier tonight. But as their enemy … She swallowed, well and truly fearful that there was nothing she could do to even scratch this supremely powerful machine.
Qrowley twitched, and suddenly his circuits were red as blood once more. "Apoqliphort Killer's first effect," he sneered, as if to rub that knowledge into the LID's faces, whether they knew it or not. "While it remains on the field, it is immune to Spells and Traps, and all monsters of inferior Level and Rank who attempt to use their effects on it will see their efforts fail miserably. And on top of that, all Special Summoned monsters on the field will lose 500 ATK and DEF."
He continued sneering at the LID even as the draining effects of Killer washed over his own Infernoids in a wave of thunder and lightning. Moments later, the three steel-gray demons seemed to have shrank before Masumi's eyes, though only a little; Tierra in particular still looked big enough to encircle the foothills of Mount Fuji itself.
More concerning to her was the effect Q's strongest weapon was having on their side of the field. Though Masumi knew her Gem-Knights, having been Normal Summoned as Dual monsters, were as physically strong as ever—and in Defense Position to boot, meaning her Life Points were still safe for the time being—Yaiba was not so lucky. And it seemed the Synchro Duelist knew that, too; he was staring long and hard at the 1600/900 on the gauge that currently hovered over his XX-Saber Gardestrike.
"Killer's next effect." Qrowley stabbed a finger upward. "Once per turn, we can make any opponent we wish send a monster from their hand or field to the Graveyard!"
That finger dropped with all the weight of an emperor holding the life of a bested gladiator in the balance—straight at Masumi. "Like one of those Gem-Knights, for instance!"
Damn it! Masumi glanced once at her hand, and again at her field, and made the only choice she could under the pressure she was faced with. "Sorry, Amber," she said, half to herself, watching her electric-yellow knight fade from view as she scooped it up and slid it into her Graveyard. One more monster in a bunch of them, she thought. Of the two she'd controlled, Iola had been the stronger; she needed as much of a wall between her and Qrowley as she could muster.
Qrowley twitched back to green again, and he was the emotionless Q once more: man and machine were assuming and reassuming control more and more frequently. Masumi wondered if the crazed American, deep inside all those circuits, processors, and subprograms he'd integrated into his own body, was somehow getting excited at finishing off a pair of children—the final survivors of the prey that had eluded his predatory instincts after so long—and if Q, ever logical, ever rational, was trying to keep its master on the straight and narrow path lest all control was lost.
"We now activate the effect of Kernel once more," intoned the slaved supercomputer, "and target an opponent's monster to gain control of it until the End Phase." The combined luminescence of all five of his monsters, on top of the three fiery Infernoids that his human side controlled, cast shades and shadows all over him that gave his body the look of burnished metal.
Then—twitching to red—Qrowley smirked. "We target … Infernoid Tierra." And before Masumi could look appropriately surprised at this, the colossal serpent behind him let fly with a deafening roar. It convulsed—for only a moment— where it floated in the sky, and the scarlet plasma that flowed through it like lifeblood turned a bright, sickly green.
"Masumi." She had to lean in close to hear Yaiba's voice, so quiet was he, even though the Synchro Duelist was bare feet away from her. "I need you to trust me for a couple minutes. Two minutes—that's all I need."
The Fusion user took one look at the field that opposed them. "You don't have two minutes, Yaiba!" she protested. An uneasy feeling was creeping into Masumi's chest. Was he about to do what she thought he—?
"No." She put a hand on his elbow, squeezing as hard as she felt comfortable with doing. "No—I'm not letting you do this by yourself! I can't let you have me do this by myself! I refuse to let you—!"
"You're all we've got left, Masumi," Yaiba protested, though his voice remained eerily calm. "There's nothing more I can do. Do me and Shen—and all of us—a favor … and give this guy hell."
"Bull." Masumi wasn't having it. "If you think I'm going to let you kill yourself by trying to be some knight in shining armor—"
She pulled with her arm, and jerked Yaiba around so he could face her for himself.
The events that happened next were hard to process—not least because it took a long time for Masumi to figure out which of them started first.
The helicopter that had been broadcasting the Duel atop LDS had veered away the moment Masumi had started her turn. Partly this was due to their efforts to avoid interfering with the battle; but mostly it was due to fear of their own safety. The gigantic monsters that dwarfed the aircraft would have little trouble swatting it away or blasting it out of the sky, thus sending its occupants to a grisly end.
But the cameras had not strayed an inch from the fight ever since the first cards had been drawn. Having to alter course to avoid being shot down or worse was an inconvenience for the men and women behind them—but at worst, it was an inconvenience. All that needed to be done was to zoom in on the action, and hope to whatever god they believed in that the pilots could keep the craft stable from there on out.
As it happened, the pilots were doing exactly that—which meant the cameras mounted inside the helicopter caught a perfect angle of the unexpected turn that the Duel below had just taken.
And this, in turn, meant that Kōtsu Kishō and Mezumi, in tandem with Tōdō Ken and Saya, broke eyes from the live coverage on their phone and glanced at one another, having—for that one eternal moment—forgotten about all else that had happened over the past forty-eight hours involving their respective daughter and son.
When Masumi had spun him round, Yaiba had gone with the movement out of pure instinct. Weeks and months of practice and training—either with Li Shen or without him—had honed his reflexes and his speed to well-above average for a Duelist his age. It therefore only took the space of two hundred milliseconds for the Synchro user, as he whirled in the air, to throw out his left arm in an attempt to stop his momentum.
It took slightly less than two hundred and fifty for the thought to occur that he'd responded too early. By then he'd seen the face of Masumi coming into view—her narrowed eyes and gritted teeth sparking with anger and determination—and bent his legs in response, hoping to lunge away from the Fusion Duelist before his arm could hit her across the neck—
Another three hundred milliseconds passed before his shoulder dipped, bringing his whole left arm below Masumi's shoulder and towards her torso. But again, Yaiba had moved too early—he'd forgotten to extend his elbow, which meant that he was hooking Masumi into mimicking his movements against her will. It was too late to pull away—his elbow had already locked against her back, and hers was closing around his own to try and steady herself—
So it was that—another two hundred and fifty milliseconds later—he'd stopped himself mid-lunge, feeling his shoes skidding in the gravel. But Masumi did not possess the same training regimen he did; she was just too slow to stop herself, which meant that while he had stopped moving, Yaiba was watching her continue to fall.
He steeled himself, closing his eyes to brace for the impact—felt something soft against his lips—
And some analytical part of him—submerged deep under the hot-headed mentality he kept locked within him whenever he wasn't Dueling for his life—did the math, and realized it had only taken exactly one single second of his life to do something he hadn't dreamed of doing in the near fifteen years he'd been alive.
Um.
Masumi knew within moments that Yaiba hadn't meant to kiss her—that he hadn't even been considering it for as long as they'd been talking. But time seemed to be flowing past at every speed she could imagine, and none at all, yet nothing else was happening.
The entire world felt as though it had fallen out from under her feet; her heart felt as though it had plunged headlong into a jet-black abyss, only to swoop up moments later and soar beneath the glinting sun. Milliseconds turned into whole seconds, and seconds felt like they were turning into … Minutes? Hours? Something longer? She wasn't sure … she just knew he didn't seem to be stopping—
Um
That was around the time when she realized she wasn't stopping either—
UM
—and realized that they were still in the middle of a Duel—
"Battle Phase!" Q bellowed. Neither the supercomputer nor its master seemed to know or care what was taking place below them. "My Qliphort Shell can attack twice during each Battle Phase if it was Advance Summoned using a Qliphort monster—and can inflict piercing damage if it attacks a Defense Position monster as well!"
He gestured upwards to his conical monster. "Now! Qliphort Shell—attack Gem-Knight Iola!"
Only then did it seem that Yaiba had become aware of where he was, and what he was doing. His eyes widened—was it a trick of the light, or had Masumi seen an uncharacteristic shade of rose-quartz pink on his face?—and he tore his lips away from Masumi's own to snarl two words:
"Like hell!"
Then, as though for good measure, he threw out the hand that wasn't holding Masumi—and screamed four more. "Trap activate: Saber Deflect!"
The Fusion Duelist's brain was quivering almost as badly as the crystal it was attempting to sculpt. She stood so stiffly where she was that it felt like she'd taken root in the gravel; she'd hardly even felt her heartbeat skid to a halt.
That card?! Masumi had seen it used once before—only a month ago, in fact—and in circumstances almost as dire as this one. And for some reason, knowing that Yaiba had activated it now, of all times, seemed to set something off inside her like the fact that he just kissed me out of the blue kissed me I felt his lips on mine and—
A loud BANG snapped Masumi out of her roiling thoughts; Yaiba's Gardestrike had lunged in front of Masumi's own Iola, and stabbed out with its sword at Shell, whose spikes snapped and sizzled with more lightning than either Duelist had seen in one place. A veritable river of blue arcs now streamed forth from the construct, but Gardestrike continued to hold them at bay with the massive, crescent-shaped blade fixed to its arm, causing miniature threads of plasma to lance out in every direction, scattering gravel by the handful and scoring holes in the ceiling beneath.
"If I control an X-Saber monster when I activate this card," Yaiba growled, "I can target any attacking monster on the field—and change its attack to any of my opponent's monsters I want! And the best part?" he added, laughing savagely at the look on Qrowley's face. "You can't chain to it with any card effects at all!
"SO!" He stabbed out with a finger—in direct mimicry of the American's own movements just last turn. "I'll redirect Qliphort Shell's attack … to Infernoid Tierra!"
And with a primal snarl, Gardestrike made a mighty lunge towards Tierra. The lightning that the bestial warrior's bladed gauntlet had been blocking all this time now surged for the colossus in one great wave. It washed over the pristine black-and-gold armor, causing Tierra to roar and thrash about in agonized anger. But even with the debilitating effects of Q's Killer, Tierra was still the stronger of the two monsters—if just barely—at 2900 ATK, and the enraged Infernoid wasted no time in pointing out this discrepancy with a single swipe of its spiked tail.
SMASH.
Very little of Shell remained to fade away from view; the force of the blow had cleaved it in half down the middle, and scattered shards of ceramic skin and metal innards to the four winds. The shockwave from the impact was such that it still rattled Qrowley's figure, though the enhanced American did little more than brush himself free of whatever errant photons had collected on his person. A gauge hovering above him showed his would-be ally's LP at 2300—and it was this difference of only a hundred Life Points on full display, perhaps, that allowed Masumi to find her voice at last.
"Why?" The single word was breathed in disbelief. Her gaze was not wavering an inch from Yaiba.
The Synchro Duelist turned around. There was still a faint hue of pink visible in the shadows cast across his face. But Masumi cared only for the hardness in his eyes, bright as flint yet resolute as quartz, and the snarl that still showed in his bared teeth. It was determination given flesh and blood.
"I will not," Yaiba growled, "live with knowing that I was the one who left you to die."
Deep within Masumi's mind, memories floated up from her subconscious—remnants of a dream, barely a month old, that she'd tried so hard to forget. She'd heard those words before; yes, she was certain of it. In fact, Yaiba himself had repeated them to her even back then: " … than live with knowing I was the one who left you to die … "
She remembered the warm, imaginary embrace they'd shared in the moment that followed this—that small moment of tenderness, an act of defiance in the face of the enemy. Now, Masumi was wondering just how small that moment had been … if in fact it had been a sign of things to come …
"All this time?" she could only say.
Yaiba didn't answer. But the small little smile, and the gleam in his amber eyes, was more than enough.
"So," he finally said. "Do I have to kiss you again, or do you still want to trust me for two more minutes?" Half of his smile vanished. "Because I don't think I'd do so well next time."
Masumi knew he was trying to joke—"B-but how?" she stammered. "Why are you even joking about this?! Don't you even care that you're about to lose this Duel? You only got rid of one of Q's monsters—and it was his weakest one! He's got more than enough firepower to finish you off this turn!"
"Apoqliphort Kernel!" Q's voice, damnably, chose that time to shatter the moment. "Attack Gem-Knight Iola! Lock on target—Apocalypse Laser Barrage!"
Golden energy slithered along the double ring of the massive monster, coalescing in front of the bright white eye at Kernel's prow. It flashed—just for a moment—and there was an explosion of light and sound that caused Masumi to stumble, almost over the edge. Only instinct saved her—she'd flung out a hand, and Yaiba had promptly grabbed it—but there was no saving the last defense she had on her field from being vaporized.
And yet, that seemed to matter so little to her now. "You—are—going—to—die! Don't you even care?!" She practically howled the words at Yaiba as if hoping they would slap him across the face, force him to come to his senses. But the Synchro Duelist didn't even look fazed—in fact, the more Masumi talked, the more she was certain he'd made up his mind about what he was going to do.
"Maybe he does. Maybe I will." Yaiba seemed strangely at ease with that. "But I don't care. Now, Qrowley still has that Void Dream card of his to limit how much battle damage he can inflict on you. You still have all your Life Points—he won't be able to finish you off in one turn. There's only two more Infernoids left in his Graveyard, and they're both high-level monsters—he can't Special Summon either of them unless he draws a monster next turn—and I bet you anything he used every monster in his Deck to Fusion Summon that damned Tierra."
"Apoqliphort Killer!" roared Q. "Attack XX-Saber Gardestrike! Lock on target—Apocalypse Cannon Blast!"
Lightning erupted from the massive Qliphort behind him, snaking upward along all four legs and coalescing into a single, bright bolt. It fired—and every last ion zeroed in on Gardestrike, striking with pinpoint accuracy. Blast after blast pummeled Yaiba with gravel and bits of debris, whipping his spiky hair every which way and plunging his LP to a mere 500, but he didn't seem to care about this, either—even as his final defense was pulverized into digital dust, leaving his field as woefully empty as Masumi's own.
The only thing he seemed to care about now, in fact, was the Fusion Duelist in front of him; Yaiba was talking as fast as he could, and clutching Masumi's shoulders as if both her arms might fall off. "With me out of the way, that bastard will have no choice but to focus all his strength on you," he grunted. "And since it won't be enough—that means you still have a chance."
Masumi's mouth worked soundlessly for a long moment, trying to find the right words for the sheer lunacy that seemed to have possessed the closest friend—was that even a term she could use anymore, after all this? the Fusion Duelist wondered—she had left in the whole world.
"W-what can I do?" she finally said. "I've got nothing in my Deck that can touch any of those monsters right now! Even if I do bring my strongest monster out, Q's Trap is just going to negate its effects, his Killer is going to drain its ATK until it's dead-even with either his or Qrowley's monsters—and do you really think he won't pass up another chance to use his Kernel to kill me with my own monster?!" she demanded. "I. Have. Nothing!"
Yaiba leaned in close. "Except two minutes." He smiled again. "That's all I need from you. I need you to trust me for just—two—minutes."
Then he embraced Masumi. The Fusion user was too flustered to object. "Tell me you'll trust me, and I swear that it'll mean more to me than every Duel I've ever won," Yaiba murmured. "If those are the last words I ever hear from you—then I'll have died happy. I just need to hear them from you."
Masumi stood there, unable to move … unable to say anything at all. Her throat felt like a logjam; there were so many things she wanted to say—yet so little time, it seemed, to find words to do them justice. The mere notion of endorsing this madness felt dirty to her … but was there something Yaiba knew about her that she didn't? Had the kiss they'd shared just now given him more of a measure of Masumi than had existed between them before?
She needed more time to think—just a little. "If you tell me you're going to make it," she choked out, "I'll believe you." Breathe in … breathe out. "Tell me you're going to wait for me … and I'll believe you."
Yaiba's smile was softer than any he'd ever let show on his face. "I will," he whispered. "I will."
And, finally convinced, Masumi nodded. "Okay … I trust you."
Yaiba grinned—letting his old devil-may-care smirk show for just a moment. "Two minutes—that's al—"
"Infernoid Tierra." Q's growl was so bestial that it was no longer distinguishable from Qrowley. "Attack directly—STAR GOD GENOCIDE!"
The last glimpse Masumi saw of him was of his smile.
Then, with a suddenness that surprised herself even in her numb shock, the fiery hell-breath of Tierra washed over Tōdō Yaiba before she could even think to breathe. Red-orange light consumed her vision; the triumphant hiss of the black demon high above deafened her ears.
Then, as swiftly as it had started, the murderous act was over—and Yaiba was gone. Nothing was left of the short, spiky-haired boy but a long streak of black where he'd once been standing. If he'd gone over the edge, she didn't want to chance a glimpse and find out for herself.
Yet even as the Fusion Duelist sank to her knees, with tears in her eyes from the combination of intense heat around her—and even more intense grief yet within her—she could still hear the last words of one of her oldest friends still resonating in her ears, and reverberating all the way into the deepest recesses of her heart.
Two minutes.
Saya and Ken, of course, were too far away to hear the conversation their son had exchanged with Masumi. But the helicopter had shown them enough of the onslaught that followed, before dipping below the top of LDS to escape the worst of the inferno, that they immediately knew what had happened.
No words were needed; no words could suffice. All that could be done was for Masumi's mother and father to embrace them both, guiding tearful eyes into their shoulders, new clothes be damned. Menoko Nari—and Shigeru as well, though with some difficulty—shifted over to join the grieving parents.
Thirty precious seconds had passed by the time Masumi was aware that Q had Set a single card from his hand, and had activated the effect of its Assembler again, drawing three new cards as though nothing had happened—as though Masumi hadn't felt a part of herself burned away with Yaiba in the hell-scape Qrowley's Tierra had unleashed.
Now, as the greenish circuits embedded into the American's skin darkened into red that burned like so much fire and blood—as the monster that wore them now assumed full control once more—Masumi felt her anguish cascading out of her in ways no words could ever fully express.
"How could you?" Even her croak of a voice was shaking and cracking—a perfect reflection of a crystal that she'd spent so much time and effort attempting to construct, yet had now been ruined beyond repair many times over. "How—could—you?"
"Easily," said Qrowley, as he drew a card—speaking as nonchalantly as though he'd just been asked to predict tomorrow's weather. "We saw that little display while Q was in control of my body—we made sure to record it all."
The smoldering coals of his eyes dimmed slightly; he wasn't looking at Masumi, but rather where Yaiba had once been. "So—did you love him?"
Masumi didn't answer. She wasn't sure if that was because she didn't want to give this monster the satisfaction of knowing—or because it had happened so fast that she hadn't asked the same of herself … that she, of all people, genuinely didn't know either.
"Hmm." Qrowley withdrew his face from the black smear, evidently not expecting an answer. "At any rate, it doesn't matter. You'll be seeing him again. Unfortunately for him, it's going to be much sooner than he thinks—because we heard what he said about everything we could do on my next turn. And he's right—what we have now won't be able to finish you off this turn."
He smirked. "Except we still have our Field Spell: Flood of Purgatory," hissed the American. "And we're going to use its effect to Special Summon another Infernoid Token to our field!"
No … But Masumi could do little more than feel her heart sink in her breast, Yaiba's parting words and all, even as she watched a second bulbous Token shimmer directly in front of Qrowley (Level 1: ATK 0/DEF 0).
Twitch. "Trap activate: Apoqliphort!" Scarcely had Qrowley's reddish mechanical innards shifted back to green that Q spoke from out of the blue. "I may use this card to shuffle three face-up Qliphort monsters in my Extra Deck, and add them to my hand!" A single pulse of Solid Vision from the American's hand levitated three such cards out of the Duel Disk on his right arm, joining the five hovering nearby.
Then, just as quickly—twitch—and Q was Qrowley once more. "Now, we banish that Token and the Infernoid Ba'al in our Graveyard to Special Summon Infernoid Adramelech from our Graveyard!" Hellfire bloomed at his feet, sinuously twisting its way beneath the crystalline pinnacle on which he stood—and then, the horribly familiar shadow of the monster's gigantic metal body burst out from below, dwarfing its twisted Summoner in every way (Level 8 » 1: ATK 2800 » 2300/DEF 0).
The doomed Fusion Duelist took one look at the monster—the first Infernoid she had ever seen in her life—and felt all hope leave her. Possibly Qrowley had noticed, because his next words boomed like thunder, the echoes of every word rolling and pealing until the four corners of the entire city were shaking to their foundations.
"Now do you see where your lies have led you, Himika?" he gloated. "Do you know now the logical conclusion of your token resistance against Academia? You dream of heaven … only to wake up in hell."
Masumi could only imagine the furious look on the LDS headmistress' face, so far below her, as each word sank in. "Your Leo Duel School," Qrowley went on, "your Lance Defense Force … your L-I-D"—he emphasized each letter with growing scorn—"everything you created to stop us is no longer your fantasy, but our reality … the spark to ignite the inferno that will burn your dreams of victory to ash. Ask yourself if you can still end this—if you can erase our influence from your city, or splinter our minds and bodies until we are nothing but data and dust. Can you? Will you?!"
The corners of the American's mouth twitched in a sneer. "We think not. We think you already know the awful truth: stop us now, and your city will die screaming. And when Academia comes for what's left, they will find nothing but their fear, your failure … and our fire."
It was hard to tell if Summoner or demon wore a more sinister smile. "Battle Phase," purred Qrowley. "Infernoid Adramelech—attack Masumi Kōtsu directly!"
With a singular flap of wings, Adramalech was on the Fusion Duelist before she could even react. Masumi shrieked in pain as heavy claws raked her body, tearing her clothes and sending her sprawling in the gravel. She got back up just in time to see her Life Points shrink to 2850.
Qrowley's smile grew wider. "Infernoid Lilith—Infernoid Nehemoth." He raised his hand as if holding a banner—then let it drop. "Attack directly!" The twin behemoths opened their mouths in ghastly smirks, expelling twin bursts of flame that were too massive to miss the squirming Duelist below them. Again Masumi cried out in agony as the flames ravaged her, but this time the pain lasted long enough that she missed her LP gauge dropping again, this time to 1650—and then to a mere sliver of 400.
I'm sorry, Yaiba … she could only think. I'm sorry, everyone … Mother … Father … Himika …
She could not move. She wasn't sure if she even wanted to. Masumi knew full well that there was one more monster that Qrowley had with which to attack, and finish both the Duel and her. She wanted nothing more than to meet Tierra in the eye—to stare down her vanquisher … her killer … in a last act of defiance. But it was too much this time—her body seemed to have recognized the inevitable, and was refusing to respond to even the simplest pleas to get up get up Masumi please get up
"Infernoid Tierra." The words trickled down her ear as though from miles away. She didn't hear Qrowley order the gargantuan serpent to finish her off; even her senses were too exhausted to register the simplest of things like touch and sound and sight. All she wanted to do was just lie down and accept the inevitable.
Qrowley had been right about something after all, she thought, blissful despite herself. She would see Yaiba again … they would have an eternity to talk about everything he had done during this Duel, and another to talk about what they would do after … Perhaps they would start by break the news to Hotene, Shen, and Fuyu, waiting dutifully for her as though they'd known her as long as she had Yaiba … and Hokuto … yes, Hokuto would be waiting for them all, somewhere … the six of them, both old friends and new, would be reunited at last …
There was a loud, muffled BOOM from overhead, like thunder in the distance; they rumbled and pealed enough that there could have been one or as many as four of them in quick succession. But Masumi knew the source at once: Tierra had commenced its direct attack at last. Her eyes, heavy in their sockets, fluttered open one last time, to behold the plume of plasma-laced fire and lightning that would herald her end, before it was all over—
It didn't come. But Masumi didn't seem to notice or to care. Perhaps she was too far gone by this point that the inevitable end was painless to her now. She focused the last of her brainpower on her ears, straining to hear the shriek of her Duel Disk, announcing that her Life Points had finally reached zero—then, at the most extreme edge of her hearing, she heard it—
Duel intrusion detected—assessing 2000 LP penalty
And without warning, the Fusion Duelist's world erupted in wind, light and sound. Not the simulated holograms and synthetically reproduced roars of a Duel Monster—but of something physical … something real.
If she had been a little more conscious to comprehend it, Masumi could have parsed these sensations apart to the point that she could have recognized the helicopter above her—the rumble of its rotors in the sky, the miniature gusts that buffeted her hair as it drew closer to the building, and the floodlights shining down upon her all the while. But none of it registered—or perhaps her brain was simply taking its time—even as a new sound attempted to invade her ears: the steady crunch-crunch-crunch of shoes on gravel.
Then a new sensation—touch—suddenly registered within the recesses of her brain: the touch of a bamboo shinai, gently nudging at her back.
Light returned to her eyes, now suddenly as wide and full as the first ruby she'd ever held in her hand—at the tender age of two—and Masumi blinked away at a thousand spots that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. A myriad of sounds rushed into her ears, temporarily deafening her, but she cared not for the overload of sensory information rushing down every last nerve in her body. Because there was nothing else in this entire dimension—or perhaps any of them—that could have given her the knowledge to take it all in, stand up, and confront its source head-on.
That was what Kōtsu Masumi was doing right now, slowly but surely, until she was back on her feet—and she felt every last bundle of nerves in her body screech to a halt at the impossible sight that lay before her eyes.
It can't be …
"So," panted Tōdō Yaiba—with a very bruised-, singed-, and equally out-of-breath-looking Menoko Hotene, Li Shen, and Rokkaku Fuyu behind him, "has it been two minutes already?"
He managed a weak, awkward smile. "I … might've lost count on the way down … "
A/N: Well, there it is, folks. I've crossed the proverbial Rubicon. No going back now.
Shorter chapter than my standard this time—in fact, the chapter following this one might be shorter as well. But I couldn't think of another way to publish the final Duel without it being broken down into at least two, maybe three different sections. And the more I wrote here, the more I realized that I'd have a huge mountain of words on my hands if I'd tried to keep this going. So I hope you enjoy the cliffhanger—for real this time.
Now. I gather that the Masumi/Yaiba pairing is called Facetshipping. It's only fair to warn you: I have no idea what I'm doing as far as that's concerned—so it's going to look awkward, probably both in-universe and out. If anyone has some tips or tricks on that end they'd like to offer me, please let me know so I don't make it sound too clunky. I don't intend on sacrificing too much of the story (stories?) to come for their sake, if that consoles you.
Anyhow, thanks for reading, have a happy holiday season, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! – K
P.S.: Saber Deflect previously appeared in Chapter 12 of (æ)mæth. It'll be the only card I created myself that shows up in this story.