Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! King of Games and do not receive profit
from it. Also, one of the events present in the storyline was derived from
the wonderful CLAMP's Clover, and I should add that I don't own that
either. However, the basic storyline is mine, as are all added characters.
A/N: This chapter is slightly AU.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The soft glow of the computer screen in front of her was reflected by her angled sunglasses. Her hair appeared black in the darkness, but when lit up by the console it was revealed to be a dark purple. Her suit, however, was definitely ebony, and the crisp high-heels she wore seemed designed to skewer anything she happened to step on. Her nametag read, "Natsumi Akane". She was hardly ever called that, however; all anyone referred to her as was "Miss", and she didn't much care either way. Some said she was cold, others cruel, but she did her job, she did it well, and as long as nothing went wrong she was fine. When she had started out working for the government she had been entirely unaware projects like this existed. Had assumed that all the treaties and signatures declaring civil rights mattered actually had an effect. Had thought that the people who ran the country had a set of morals. Any time a citizen became significantly unusual, it was her job to dispose of them. Any time they came close to realization, she disposed of them. The average person would have been horrified, disgusted, if they were to obtain the knowledge of what was truly done here. Actually her superiors would be, too, on a lesser degree; mostly they would have been infuriated at her disobedience. The depth of her actions were illegal, and mostly without clearance. ALERT The warning flashed upon the screen, and she accessed the file to let her view the problem. ILLEGAL WEBSITE VISITED Of course, of course, what else was new? Some angry gin-soaked rebel trying to thwart the government. Stupid, really, it was from their interference that she kept her job. A click of the mouse and she was on the site itself. Profile, where was its profile, ah, there it- Behind the glasses the eyes widened. She, unfeeling and jaded, was surprised. The fact that there was even a website dedicated to one of the most secretive experiments of history was amazing. Not that it was the worst, she reflected, just the most secretive. CLAW PROJECT She did an analysis and discovered that the visitor was accessing it on a regular computer, nothing special, and quite easy to take care of. She activated a virus, and watched with a bare satisfaction as the computer became infected and crashed. Job done. ALERT A new warning. She found that a highly important official was accessing a porn website, and moved with far more relish to stop it. Humiliating a superior was always welcome.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Attention: You have been tricked All of you Every single last one of you Except my fellows We know
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Miss Sasaki was most upset. "Where is he?!" she wailed. The police officer in front of her raised an eyebrow. "I have told you," he said, "that though young Tomokazu's whereabouts are currently unknown, he could not possibly be in any real danger." "Damn," a passing boy whispered. "It seems to me that he would be the typical child to run away- and if you'd let me look, I'm sure he'll be back soon-" "He'll never come back, never, never, never! Oh, it's all my fault, what did I do wrong, everything, oh, oh." and so on and so forth. Basically everyone else in the school was quite delighted about Tomokazu's disappearance. He was rude and cruel and had easily made himself most unpopular. It is an odd thing, but when a person is talented and attractive his cruelty and haughtiness are more offensive to the snubbed. If any sadness was felt on the whole event, it was for Minami. She was one of the few good people that are still drawing breath, and she, having found a place in everyone's heart, was not a person that could hurt and not draw compassion. No one was quite sure why she was so attached to Tomokazu, but she was, and the dewiness of her eyes and depression of her whole character soon infected everyone around her. If she were aware of her affect she would of course had tried to brighten up, but there you go.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Okay, so are the Millennium Items involved?" "No." "Duel Monsters?" "Not that I know of." "Fate of the world?" "Nothing like that." "Doomsday tournaments?" "Probably not." "Arrogant pricks?" "Jounouchi." "Tacos that don't have enough meat in them?" "Okay, now you're being irrelevant." "Now?" Honda asked Yugi dubiously. "Hey, shut up, Honda." "Shut up yourself, Jounouchi, you were-" "Oh be quiet, the both of you!" Anzu snapped. She'd forgotten to study for a test, was quite sure she'd failed it, and was now in an irritable mood. Yugi smiled gently at her, and for completely unrelated reasons she felt soothed. "So, why are we involved?" Jounouchi asked, suddenly remembering to ask the question he had been building up to. "Because someone innocent is in danger." "No proof of that." "There's a chance." "Oh, of the danger. Jerk like that isn't innocent." "Jounouchi!" "Gotta agree with him there, Yugi," Honda added unhelpfully. "Okay, shut up," Anzu said, ending a possible fight. "The reason that we're getting involved is-" The rest of the sentence was drowned out in a driver's furious honking. "Okay?" "Okay," the rest chorused. She had explained everything perfectly.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Night had fallen. Shadows flickered eerily, wrapping around the slim beams of light from the half moon. The van slid silently along the road, approaching the neighborhood at an alarming speed. Inside a house, a large African man was preparing dinner. He could hear his two-year-old daughter splashing around in the tub and his wife, Kendra, scolding her as she tried to force the dirt off her. Omar shook his head, his smile revealing startlingly white teeth. Those two. A ring at the door made him pause. "Honey?" Kendra called. "Can you get it? I'm-" he heard her gasp as water splashed down her dress. "Busy," she finished in a defeated tone. "Don't worry, I'm on it," Omar replied, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh, and, abandoning his soup, went to the door. "What can I do for you?" he asked, swinging open the door wide. "I-" There was no one there. Omar's dark eyebrows furrowed. That old feeling was upon him again, like he was going to be attacked. He slowly swiveled his head, first one way, then the other, searching, for what, he couldn't say. Something moved at his feet. He bent down to look at it and felt something smooth and cold being pressed against the back of his neck. A terrible pain surged through his body, followed by a complete numbness. A small part of his brain still capable of rational thought was racing. The rest of it was blissfully blank. He heard, as though from far away, "Number 25, Rank One. You have been resistant to all previous summons, and are being deported directly to your station. Move out." Omar's large feet lightly trod on the lawn, his two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle barely denting the soft ground. He barely registered Kendra's voice, calling, "Omar, honey, who is it? Omar?" He fairly bounded into the van, effortless, as he had been able to do only a very long time ago. The others there seemed to take no notice of him, but all could sense each other. There was no need to look. The van pulled away, smoothly and quietly as it had come. Kendra appeared at the door, looking slightly concerned. "Omar?"
A/N: This chapter is slightly AU.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The soft glow of the computer screen in front of her was reflected by her angled sunglasses. Her hair appeared black in the darkness, but when lit up by the console it was revealed to be a dark purple. Her suit, however, was definitely ebony, and the crisp high-heels she wore seemed designed to skewer anything she happened to step on. Her nametag read, "Natsumi Akane". She was hardly ever called that, however; all anyone referred to her as was "Miss", and she didn't much care either way. Some said she was cold, others cruel, but she did her job, she did it well, and as long as nothing went wrong she was fine. When she had started out working for the government she had been entirely unaware projects like this existed. Had assumed that all the treaties and signatures declaring civil rights mattered actually had an effect. Had thought that the people who ran the country had a set of morals. Any time a citizen became significantly unusual, it was her job to dispose of them. Any time they came close to realization, she disposed of them. The average person would have been horrified, disgusted, if they were to obtain the knowledge of what was truly done here. Actually her superiors would be, too, on a lesser degree; mostly they would have been infuriated at her disobedience. The depth of her actions were illegal, and mostly without clearance. ALERT The warning flashed upon the screen, and she accessed the file to let her view the problem. ILLEGAL WEBSITE VISITED Of course, of course, what else was new? Some angry gin-soaked rebel trying to thwart the government. Stupid, really, it was from their interference that she kept her job. A click of the mouse and she was on the site itself. Profile, where was its profile, ah, there it- Behind the glasses the eyes widened. She, unfeeling and jaded, was surprised. The fact that there was even a website dedicated to one of the most secretive experiments of history was amazing. Not that it was the worst, she reflected, just the most secretive. CLAW PROJECT She did an analysis and discovered that the visitor was accessing it on a regular computer, nothing special, and quite easy to take care of. She activated a virus, and watched with a bare satisfaction as the computer became infected and crashed. Job done. ALERT A new warning. She found that a highly important official was accessing a porn website, and moved with far more relish to stop it. Humiliating a superior was always welcome.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Attention: You have been tricked All of you Every single last one of you Except my fellows We know
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Miss Sasaki was most upset. "Where is he?!" she wailed. The police officer in front of her raised an eyebrow. "I have told you," he said, "that though young Tomokazu's whereabouts are currently unknown, he could not possibly be in any real danger." "Damn," a passing boy whispered. "It seems to me that he would be the typical child to run away- and if you'd let me look, I'm sure he'll be back soon-" "He'll never come back, never, never, never! Oh, it's all my fault, what did I do wrong, everything, oh, oh." and so on and so forth. Basically everyone else in the school was quite delighted about Tomokazu's disappearance. He was rude and cruel and had easily made himself most unpopular. It is an odd thing, but when a person is talented and attractive his cruelty and haughtiness are more offensive to the snubbed. If any sadness was felt on the whole event, it was for Minami. She was one of the few good people that are still drawing breath, and she, having found a place in everyone's heart, was not a person that could hurt and not draw compassion. No one was quite sure why she was so attached to Tomokazu, but she was, and the dewiness of her eyes and depression of her whole character soon infected everyone around her. If she were aware of her affect she would of course had tried to brighten up, but there you go.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Okay, so are the Millennium Items involved?" "No." "Duel Monsters?" "Not that I know of." "Fate of the world?" "Nothing like that." "Doomsday tournaments?" "Probably not." "Arrogant pricks?" "Jounouchi." "Tacos that don't have enough meat in them?" "Okay, now you're being irrelevant." "Now?" Honda asked Yugi dubiously. "Hey, shut up, Honda." "Shut up yourself, Jounouchi, you were-" "Oh be quiet, the both of you!" Anzu snapped. She'd forgotten to study for a test, was quite sure she'd failed it, and was now in an irritable mood. Yugi smiled gently at her, and for completely unrelated reasons she felt soothed. "So, why are we involved?" Jounouchi asked, suddenly remembering to ask the question he had been building up to. "Because someone innocent is in danger." "No proof of that." "There's a chance." "Oh, of the danger. Jerk like that isn't innocent." "Jounouchi!" "Gotta agree with him there, Yugi," Honda added unhelpfully. "Okay, shut up," Anzu said, ending a possible fight. "The reason that we're getting involved is-" The rest of the sentence was drowned out in a driver's furious honking. "Okay?" "Okay," the rest chorused. She had explained everything perfectly.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Night had fallen. Shadows flickered eerily, wrapping around the slim beams of light from the half moon. The van slid silently along the road, approaching the neighborhood at an alarming speed. Inside a house, a large African man was preparing dinner. He could hear his two-year-old daughter splashing around in the tub and his wife, Kendra, scolding her as she tried to force the dirt off her. Omar shook his head, his smile revealing startlingly white teeth. Those two. A ring at the door made him pause. "Honey?" Kendra called. "Can you get it? I'm-" he heard her gasp as water splashed down her dress. "Busy," she finished in a defeated tone. "Don't worry, I'm on it," Omar replied, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh, and, abandoning his soup, went to the door. "What can I do for you?" he asked, swinging open the door wide. "I-" There was no one there. Omar's dark eyebrows furrowed. That old feeling was upon him again, like he was going to be attacked. He slowly swiveled his head, first one way, then the other, searching, for what, he couldn't say. Something moved at his feet. He bent down to look at it and felt something smooth and cold being pressed against the back of his neck. A terrible pain surged through his body, followed by a complete numbness. A small part of his brain still capable of rational thought was racing. The rest of it was blissfully blank. He heard, as though from far away, "Number 25, Rank One. You have been resistant to all previous summons, and are being deported directly to your station. Move out." Omar's large feet lightly trod on the lawn, his two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle barely denting the soft ground. He barely registered Kendra's voice, calling, "Omar, honey, who is it? Omar?" He fairly bounded into the van, effortless, as he had been able to do only a very long time ago. The others there seemed to take no notice of him, but all could sense each other. There was no need to look. The van pulled away, smoothly and quietly as it had come. Kendra appeared at the door, looking slightly concerned. "Omar?"