The Sky Sage: I wanted to reply to a review that I got last chapter, but, for some reason, it's not appearing, so I'm going to reply here. Yes, rueedge, Megumi is definitely not helping poor Mokuba's heart, and I don't think Kaiba will be appreciative of the fact that she's been stressing him out once again. If anything, I can already feel the glare she's going to be subjected to.

And thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it. I will also say that you're not far off track. Megumi is not just making friends, that's for sure.

I also hope you all enjoy this chapter. This one, not gonna lie, was a difficult one to write.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

The Butterfly Effect

Chapter LXXVI

… If this was supposed to feel like a new beginning, though, I missed the memo. I missed the letters in the sky telling me to use this as a warning, as a lesson, and move on. I let the chance of it pass me by as Mokuba freed me and he tried to get me out of the aftermath of a situation I knew I could not have created on my own, but that I lingered in, knowing it was of poor taste when I went to where Lilith had once stood and now lay buried in the rubble that I started to clear from her, only to get stopped a few seconds later by a hand and a smile that I wasn't sure how to take.

"We got this, Megumi. Don't worry about it."

And still didn't know how to take minutes later when I was guided inside a building after a ride in a vehicle and was left to sit on the tiled floor of a bathroom, flinching as the water exposed the nicks and cleaned them.

Too real? Maybe. Too close to confirming that what Yami had left us both with was a lie and that there was really no way to be safe? If there was any surprise there, it had been drained long ago.

Drained and left with something that I could only compare to emptiness, something the bathroom I had been led to seemed to have no trouble emulating.

It was, felt strange. Like there was supposed to be pride, but all of it had long been taken away along with the happiness I was sure should have been present. Instead, all that was was this image of Lilith lying there, her broken laughter ringing in my ears, and the very present desire to never, ever even think that I was anywhere close to her mentality.

And sadness, a deep, profound sadness that I couldn't truly find the origins of other than the idea that this girl, this young lady, had died thinking she was doing someone a favor, yet hadn't. Had not even come close in any way and, even if she had succeeded, she would never, ever have been recognized the way she hoped.

Neither Malik nor the Thief — she had made it sound like he was working with them and I doubted she had lied to me, even in her love for mind games — would have even cared for her achievements. They would have been glad that I was gone, yes, but they wouldn't have bothered with how. Hell, the Thief might have even gotten mad with her because she'd taken down something, someone he wanted to take down himself. And while I doubted that she would have ultimately cared, if just from the way that she had not hesitated in eliminating herself in the process, the idea that there was no respect, that there was nothing to recognize the fact that she might have needed someone to just… be better felt… heartbreaking.

It was all extremely selfish, and the fact that I felt the need to talk to everyone to say that I cared for them, if just to affirm my beliefs yet couldn't find the strength to even stand up… felt like a response and a disconnect. A massive disconnect to a situation that I knew existed, but would just no longer compute.

Battle City was still on. I couldn't do anything save for wonder if they knew.

I stood, quietly finishing my shower before starting to dry off and making my way to the connected bedroom, unable to get my eyes off the Key once I saw it. It took me a moment to move, to completely dry myself while giving a silent thank you for the organizer's foresight and the clothes that stood out against the blue of the bed. I got dressed again, noting that the clothes were new and of better quality than what I'd been wearing, even if it was the same color. And I could lift my eyes towards the door at the single knock, stopping my struggle with the scarf I was putting around my neck to say, "enter."

I still had to go. I still had to continue.

And, until there was time for celebration, there would be no hugging Mokuba, no matter how much I wanted to.

"The warehouse… well, what's left of it, anyway, is being taken care of. The girl you unearthed… we're looking for some kind of identification, but that might take a while since there -"

"Lilith. Her first name is Lilith."

"… Okay. I'm guessing she's a Ghoul?"

I nodded and watched my best friend do the same as his lips became tight in worry. There wasn't much information, and everything the Ghouls had put into this tournament was likely false. Finding anything… would be near impossible. Plus, with what information I'd gotten about her during the duel, I doubted that she had any family.

… Just like the Ghouls to hire people who had nothing to lose.

"We'll keep trying. I'm sure we can, at least, dig up enough information to figure out where she's from," I heard my friend state with a smile that did not reach his eyes before reaching into his pocket and holding out something that looked extremely familiar, "By the way, here. I'm not sure if you guys… but she was a legitimate participant and, according to what we were able to pull out from her Disk, you won, so this belongs to you."

Too familiar, even. The clear looking card made me shake my head at sit down on the bed as I half-wanted to question where I was, what the hell had happened, and how, how was this even considered a legitimate match. How Mokuba could hand me a Puzzle Card like a referee while his gaze screamed both outrage and absolute helplessness in front of the situation.

And the fact that I couldn't help the impression that I had been targeted and that none of this would have happened had I not been involved in this mess of a tournament made me both question my sanity and my eyes burn uncomfortably.

Mess… that was the word I'd been looking for.

This was a mess. A damn mess of my own creation for reasons that I still backed, but made me question everything up until this point. Made me wonder why I existed, why the hell the Agents had so obviously called me here, and laid down trials that I still couldn't find the answers to. Made me wonder why I even dared to hope that I, I who came from somewhere I could no longer remember, could make any damn difference.

I retracted my hand at the warmth that came to press against it, meeting with Mokuba's uncomfortably close gaze — I should have not been surprised that he took a seat next to me — before looking away just as quickly as I found myself wishing for the comfort of my big brother.

… If that wasn't an indication of me wanting off this ride yet again, I don't know what was.

"You okay?"

"Sorry, I just… It's hard."

I didn't know what was the best indicator of pain and wanting out than part of myself clamoring for someone to lean on and hide my face from the world until said pain just faded away.

"… You could take a break. Have you eaten lunch yet?"

While the other part knew, understood that this was not the way things would get done.

I couldn't hide. I couldn't even think about it. As sad, as upset and as worried as I felt, I had to keep going. Lilith… was only one person in this mess and the message she'd left in her actions, ironically, clear. Clear as day. Someone wanted me dead. Someone would always, always want me dead. It wouldn't be until this goddamn thing was over that it would finally stop and that, maybe, just maybe, we could live semi-normal lives.

I had to keep the cap. I had to meet everyone in the quarterfinals. And as devastating as Lilith had been, she was just a proof I'd needed to keep going.

Jason had been right, in the most bittersweet way possible.

"… As much as I could, I shouldn't."

"… Have you eaten, at least?"

When the going gets tough, the tough get going. And this… was what was called toughening up.

Swallow everything down and keep going. Then, when everything's over, you can cry.

"I don't think that would be a good idea, right now," I said around the lump in my throat, watching Mokuba's face drain from the little enthusiasm it had been able to muster, understanding taking its place.

The idea that Kaiba himself had done this enough to have Mokuba understand was not comfortable. And the idea that I was doing the same thing when he was simply trying to be supportive was something I never wanted to do.

But all I could do was hope he'd forgive me, and keep going.

"Then at least let me get someone to clean your wounds. The heli's right outside for when you're ready."

I grabbed his wrist as he got up, hating my action but loving the warmth it provided as I spoke, "I'm sorry."

And enjoying way too much the fact that he brought his free hand over mine if only to get mine away as he replied with something that made little sense, "No, I am."