With the sun overhead, Ankh sighed. He knew that Hades would be on his way home, likely to get a good bit of rest and relaxation, which was what Ankh had in mind as well. He had decided that this whole thing was not worth the headache to him, and had already agreed to let Hades handle it. He felt a bit bad about the dynamic between the duo, where he was the brains and Hades the brawn more oft than not. He wanted to let Hades deal with this, as the whole core of the issue was that those kidnapped were the children of people that Hades idolized and the friends of a girl Hades had the hots for.

Ankh just wanted to relax. He needed a day sandwiched between his mates, his tension dissipating as he began to think about laying his head on Milla's bosom while cradling Dharc in his arms. That seemed rather, rather nice about now. He headed directly towards his house, wondering how things would change with the fact that he had broken the spell over the house yesterday. His father and Duel Spirits were now free to move around the human world or return to the Spirit World, meaning that for all he know his father could already be gone.

It wouldn't surprise him too much really, as unlike Hades' father, his own was much more self serving. While The Dark Magician of Chaos was a chaotic individual with an unstable mind much like Hades, someone who was good but felt the need to be negative, his father was different. His father was calculating, and Ankh knew this. He was fully aware of the fact that he and his cousin, his brother essentially, were an experiment. He wasn't born of the love of two people like a normal child, no, he was born of a desire for the Dark Magician to produce a stronger fighter than his own brother. Ankh was born to be better than Hades, nothing else.

This always brought him a sense of insecurity, a nagging desire to always cover his weaknesses and do whatever it took to be as flawless as possible. He even had multiple personalities, four separate states of mental being all meant to be viewed by the masses as Hades' equal or better. When Ankh realized that his lifelong desire for perfection was a fool's errand, he suddenly found an incredible sense of clarity. His mind seemed to reform itself, and he simply realized that he didn't want to fight anymore.

His father's desire to have a child better than his brother's was almost imprinted on Ankh, and once he broke away from that, he understood that Hades was more suited to this than he was. His cousin was taller, much more patient and had reasons to fight. What reason did Ankh have to continue fighting against this red suited man who kidnapped Pierre and Axel? He'd defend his own from this man, of course, but to actively try and take him down to save people who he didn't get along with was foolish.

It was a liberating experience, to have that conversation with Hades on the boat. They both let all of their frustrations out, all of their pent up emotions and insecurities and fears and such. Ankh learned how insecure Hades when it came to him, and vice versa. They were both trying to constantly one up each other, and they realized that while that did keep them going, it also separated them. It could be used against them. They were friends and cousins, not brothers and brothers in arms. The two shared a good laugh after this. It was amusing to them both.

For Ankh, being able to tell Hades to his face to deal with this evil, murderous kidnapper by himself was liberating, and he was rather glad to hear that Hades wanted this. The two of them were more alike than they initially thought, and they felt like they could both live much, much better lives now that they understood each other better. Or at least Ankh could. He couldn't ever be sure with his pigheaded brother.

When he opened the door of the shop, he noticed that despite it being the early afternoon, the shop was closed, the lights off and such. He noticed Wolfguard sleeping downstairs, the wolf perking up and sniffing the air as he opened his drowsy eyes. When he noticed Ankh, he smiled lazily, obviously far too tired to be his normal self. "Good Back, Ankh." he said, his dialogue not sophisticated enough for the word 'welcome'. He smiled at the dog as he walked over, petting his huge head as he dozed, his tail wagging back and forth. "Where is everyone?" he asked, and the dog grumbled.

"They went get me food." he said, and Ankh chuckled. He watched the dog begin to fall asleep, realizing that his father must have figured out that he lifted the spell. With the spell lifted, he bet that his mother came up with the idea for them to go out as a family. This means that his parents were getting along, much like he'd wanted. He sighed, understanding that having his father around would change things, hopefully for the better.

As he headed up the stairs, he picked up on some kind of weak energy. It was familiar, but he couldn't really identify it. He assumed it was residual energy from his family, as the house had three Spellcasters locked up in it for weeks, their energy even traceable from right outside the card shop. He glanced to the living room, not seeing anything or sensing anything. He couldn't smell anything from the kitchen, so thankfully no one left the stove on, or anything cooking slowly too long. He chuckled, imaging Milla overcooking a roast or rice or something. It was funny.

As he began to change out of his current attire, the Black Magicians gear that he always wore, he looked at it as he began folding it up and placing it on his well made bed. He thought to their cousin, Yuri, who he realized must be proud of them. There were a few bumps along the road, and a long vacation, but the other two of the gang's original Big Three, Apple Jack and the Pale Rider, had achieved their grand plan. The gangs of the Broox were all but wiped out, and the Black Magicians were blatantly atop the food chain. They were finally free of a life of crime.

Remmy, Selena, Cal, Hades and Ankh himself would never have to sell another drug, rob another store or kill someone over their allegiances again. It was all smooth sailing and simple round ups for the three Broox natives he had worked with. The Queen of the Broox, Peten the Dark Clown and the Dark Magick Ink Master would be able to live happy lives without worrying about the authorities at their necks anymore. They were the authorities.

Changed into a pair of sweatpants and a button up shirt left unbuttoned, Ankh exited his room. When he did, he heard a noise, the sound of a dish clattering into the sink. He frowned, wondering if Wolfguard had come upstairs and gotten something to eat or dropped a dish he hadn't noticed into the sink. No, that couldn't be it. Wolfguard was a goofy monster, sure, but he wasn't able to reach the counter and never really tried. Someone else was in his house. He inhaled, rolling his shoulders as he slowly walked towards the sink, the sound of the sink's water hitting his ears.

Someone was in his house using his dishes. However, he was kind of grateful at the sound of the sink. They were at least kind enough to wash the dishes they used. He continued to hear the sink, as if someone was washing all of the day's dishes, Ankh wondering how many of them there could've been since it was about halfway into the afternoon. He reached the doorway of the kitchen, an archway that had no curtain or door or anything. His eyes moved about slowly, anticipating someone using the sink as a distraction, incase there was more than one intruder.

His eyes reached the sink, and he felt his heart seize up in his chest. His jaw began to go slack as all of his intellect failed him for a moment. He recognized that shape. The lean muscles on those arms and the curve of that waist. The hair as well, though it was a tad longer than he'd remembered. The clothing was different from his memory, the young man in front of him garbed in clothing that looked like it belonged to Ankh a couple of years ago, Ankh's eyes trailing the length of the figure, as if studying him. There was no mistaking the person standing in his home alone. "Shurit?"

Shurit felt his entire body and soul freeze at the sound of that voice. He knew he'd hear it eventually, but the one time he was alone? Did the Spellcaster and his human mate plan this? No, they couldn't have been aware. This was a coincidence. That's it. A big coincidence. He inhaled, his hands shaking slightly as he reached for the water, hearing it run to a halt as he dried his hands with paper towels, all while leaving his back to the speaker. He turned around, locking eyes with Ankh for the first time since their massive fight.

Shurit was unsure of what to do. There was obviously a look of stupified confusion on Ankh's face, so he wasn't expecting to see him either. Should he ask Ankh a question about his hospitality? Should he grab the nearest knife and try to run him through to get his revenge? He couldn't decide at the moment, glad that both of them were frozen at the sight of the other, almost as if time itself was stopped. Shurit realized that this was his chance to speak to Ankh, to figure out why he did what he did. He couldn't try to shank him or anything at the moment.

So, Shurit straightened his posture and closed his eyes, silently praying for forgiveness from his parents before he decided to show the same hospitality and kindness he was shown. He offered Ankh a smile. He inhaled, wondering how Ankh would react to his presence in his house, alone in the middle of the day. He decided to not worry about it, and instead try and greet him warmly. "Welcome home."

Those two words hit Ankh harder than any punch, any strike or spell or blow. Even being driven to near death training and fighting off authorities didn't hit him as hard. They were both like divine judgment, like a plague and a flood on a famished people to signal the end times. Ankh felt himself crumble under the massive weight of those two tiny words, his body carrying him across the room to Shurit's smiling face before capturing him in a tight, almost hysterical embrace.

Shurit was even more surprised by this than anything else. Ankh hugged him tightly, as if he was dangling off of a cliff and holding onto a rope. And then, Shurit felt Ankh's body spasm and heave. It was an odd motion, but it was a familiar one to him. Another spasm followed, and it was then that Shurit looked to his former friend, who was actually crying. Ankh had loosened his grip, his knees buckling under the weight of his emotions and he slumped and began to sob into Shurit's chest.

Shurit had never seen Ankh cry before, so this had him at a loss. He was always strong and stalwart, the kind of warrior that you'd trust your family's lives to, the kind of man you'd want at your back on an epic quest or in a war. To see him almost collapse to the ground in tears was something wholly unexpected. It was then that he realized that, if only for this moment, he had defeated Ankh. With two small, kind words, he reduced the man who ruined his life into a child sobbing on his knees. He had defeated the warrior and broken the man.

He didn't think that he'd feel better if he killed someone he could defeat that easily. He had won in some fashion, so he decided that he'd simply enjoy the life he had, even if he ended up alone again. He smiled at Ankh. "Why the waterworks?" he asked, trying to tease his former friend. He almost missed being friends with Ankh. The two always had a connection, finding comfort in each other's strength and similar ideals and goals. Ankh chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes and chuckling. He rose to his feet, realizing the must have looked like quite a pathetic heap of humanity just now.

"Shurit… I know I don't have a right to ask… but..." he trailed, and Shurit was surprised to see this side of him. He was hesitant, almost timid when it came to speaking to him. He didn't hate it, but it wasn't becoming of the man that killed his parents and left him alone in the world. "What? You ruined my life and can't even ask me a question?" he asked, Ankh able to tell that his tone was playful enough. He smiled, glad that Shurit could maintain his composure around him. It was a step in the right direction. He looked to his friend, someone he had always cared about, someone he cursed and hated himself for wronging.

"Will you stay?"