2. Obstacles
They ran headlong through Dulles International Airport, dodging around people and luggage. If they missed this flight….
"I always… wanted to visit… Washington, D.C." Rebecca panted. "I was just… hoping… to see more of it."
"Talk later… run now," Yugi grunted between breaths.
Normally he might appreciate Rebecca's dry sense of humor, but this current race through Dulles to catch the last possible flight to San Francisco that would get them there before their ship left port was merely the latest in a long series of disasters that would have been hilarious had it been the plot one of those travel comedy movies instead of happening to him. After two solid weeks of this, he wasn't in the mood for it.
Originally they were supposed to have arrived back in Cairo two weeks ago, which would have given Yugi plenty of time to contact his friends, pack all his things to be shipped to Domino, where he'd be staying all summer after the tournament until grad school started in the fall, and fly with Rebecca to New York to see Téa for four days before they all headed for San Francisco. However, dust storms and transportation that was spotty at best in the desert wilderness where they had been on their six-month-long dig delayed them by twelve days and they didn't arrive at the Professor's rental house in Cairo until very early Friday morning, a good four days past their scheduled trip to New York.
Immediately upon their return, Professor Hawkins had his housekeeper do their laundry so Yugi and Rebecca could repack for their trip to the U.S. He also volunteered to take care of shipping Yugi's things to Domino for him after they left, so the main thing Yugi needed to do was to go online and book new flights for himself and Rebecca. New York was completely out of the question by this point so he searched for the earliest flight to San Francisco, which routed them through Paris and Chicago. They would leave Cairo at nine o'clock that night, arriving at one o'clock Saturday morning Paris time, then take a five a.m. flight to Chicago that would give them plenty of time to get through customs and make a ten a.m. flight to San Francisco. They would land at twelve-thirty Saturday afternoon, a mere hour and a half before check-in time for the tournament cruise.
Yugi then planned to e-mail his friends, especially Téa, with apologies for his delay and his revised itinerary, and take as long a nap as possible since they'd already gone thirty-six hours without sleep. Before he got the e-mail client open, however, Professor Hawkins came in and asked to talk with him.
"Yugi, I know this trip was hard on all of us, and I'm glad to see things are finally returning to normal. I'm concerned about Rebecca, though. She was so unhappy on our expedition and while she seems to have bounced back during our return trip to Cairo, I really appreciate you watching out for her on this trip. This will be the first time she's traveled to a tournament without me."
"Of course," Yugi had responded.
"She can be… high spirited," the professor warned.
At that moment, the high-spirited girl in question barreled into the room in a panic because her passport had gone missing. Yugi suspected that maybe the professor, who like many brilliant men was often a bit absentminded, had mislaid it, but to humor Rebecca, he checked his backpack where he kept his own passport to see if hers had gotten in there by mistake. To his horror, he discovered that his was gone as well.
The two of them, with the help of the professor and his housekeeper, turned their luggage and gear from the expedition upside down, but no passports.
As soon as the Japanese Consulate in Cairo opened at nine, Yugi was there. He spent the next seven hours trying to get an emergency replacement passport while Rebecca and her grandfather were at the American consulate trying to do the same for her. By four o'clock in the afternoon, he had despaired of ever succeeding when suddenly an official handed him a brand new passport. "You must have friends in high places," the official told him.
Rebecca, apparently, had high-placed friends as well; she, too, managed to obtain a last-second replacement.
Yugi didn't have time to wonder about who pulled strings on their behalf, however. He and Rebecca had just enough time to pack before they had to leave for the airport.
A huge accident on Salah Salem Road kept them sitting in traffic for two hours, and when they finally arrived at the airport, their flight had just begun boarding and they had to run to make it in time. Yugi didn't even have enough time to use the airport internet service to e-mail his friends or even to call one of them on a pay phone to let them know he was on his way.
As it turned out, they could have had all the time in the world if only Air France had let them off the stupid plane. After rushing to make their flight, they sat on the runway in Cairo for four hours because of a mechanical problem. Four hours and the passengers were not even allowed off the plane. They didn't finally take off until almost one o'clock in the morning.
By the time they arrived in Paris, it was a quarter to five Saturday morning. Yugi and Rebecca had slept maybe three hours between the two of them. A mad dash through Charles de Gaulle International Airport got them to their gate five minutes after their flight to Chicago had left. Exhausted and thoroughly irritated, they trudged to guest services. While Rebecca used the restroom, Yugi attempted to arrange a new flight. Although he spoke both Japanese and English fluently, knew enough Arabic to get by, and could even speak ancient Egyptian, he knew not a syllable of French, and therefore was getting nowhere with the customer service agent who was disdainful of having to do business in English.
Finally, Rebecca returned and started arguing with the Air France representative in French so flawless he thought she was a native, and suddenly they found themselves booked on a five-forty-five flight to Washington D.C. that would arrive at seven-fifteen local time, giving them four hours to get through customs and catch an eleven-fifteen flight to San Francisco. They would get to San Francisco at two-fifteen Pacific Daylight Time. Check-in for the tournament was from two to four and the ship would leave port at six o'clock. This was the last possible flight they could take and still make it to the ship on time. They made Dash for the Gate Number Three with ten minutes to spare.
So, naturally, they sat on the runway again, for two and a half hours this time.
When Yugi and Rebecca arrived in Washington, it was already nearly ten o'clock. On the upside, they'd each managed to sleep for six hours or so and were at least a little rested when they arrived. They separated for their trip through customs since she was a returning American citizen and he was a foreign visitor. Because he was originating from a country where Arabic was the primary spoken language, the customs officials were particularly thorough, searching his bags completely and questioning him endlessly about his reasons for visiting the U.S. Finally, more than an hour later, he emerged from customs to find Rebecca waiting impatiently. They now had fifteen minutes to catch their flight and it was two concourses away. Mad Dash Number Four began.
Finally Yugi saw their gate ahead. Putting on an extra burst of speed, they sprinted the last hundred yards, finally arriving… just as the gate attendant was shutting the door.
"No, wait! That's our flight!" Yugi cried out in despair.
"I'm sorry, sir," the gate attendant replied with a smile that oozed false sympathy, "but we must close the door five minutes before departure."
"But you don't understand! We've missed two busses, a train, and three flights on three different continents, and every one we did get on was late! We have to get to San Francisco, we have a ship to catch!"
"I'm sorry, sir," the gate attendant repeated.
At that instant, Rebecca came to a stop beside him and immediately burst into tears. "My mommy's on that ship!" she wailed. "I haven't seen her in six months and if I miss that ship I WON'T SEE MY MOMMY!"
At a petite five-feet with wide, soulful blue eyes, Rebecca had an almost preternatural ability to appear any age she wished. It was an act she had perfected as a dueling strategy, lulling her opponents into underestimating her by appearing to be more naïve than she was. When Yugi had first met her at age eight, she'd even pretended to discuss moves with her teddy bear to make her seem impossibly young. While she could no longer pass for a five-year-old who needed a teddy bear, at the moment she looked like a nine- or ten-year-old throwing a tantrum complete with screaming and flailing fists. It didn't hurt that her usual travel attire was a baggy t-shirt with a cartoon character on it that hid her figure, and her long, blonde hair was pulled back into pigtails.
The gate attendant look flustered. "Shh! Don't cry!" She looked to Yugi for help, but he recovered quickly from his own surprise and shrugged at her.
"Don't look at me, I'm just the babysitter. Her mom is the only one who can calm her down when she gets like this," he said a bit awkwardly. Lying did not come easy to him, so he told himself it was merely a bluff in the game of Get Me On The Stupid Plane.
"Come on, dear, we'll find another flight—"
"I DON'T WANT ANOTHER FLIGHT, I WANT THIS FLIGHT, I WANT TO SEE MY MOMMY ON THE SHIP IN SAN FRANCISCO!"
Rebecca was starting to attract a crowd, most of whom were giving dirty looks to the gate attendant. Yugi heard a couple of people clucking, "Poor dear."
"Okay, okay, don't cry, we'll get you on this plane, just calm down," she relented, opening the door. Yugi shoved their tickets at her and he and Rebecca bolted down the gangway and slipped into the plane just as a flight attendant was about to lock the door. They quickly found their seats, a window and center seat next to a heavy-set man on the aisle. Greatly put out at having to share his seat after all, he grudgingly moved so they could squeeze by. They crammed their carry-on bags into an already full overhead compartment, then slid down into their seats, Rebecca on the window and Yugi in the center. Drained but victorious, they exhaled a unison sigh of relief, then pounded their fists together in triumph.
"For that performance, I just might forgive you for packing so much luggage."
"Me?" she protested, pulling her glasses out of her bag and putting them on, transforming her appearance from a ten-year-old crying for her mommy to something almost adult-like. "I'm not the one who took like five hours in customs."
"It's not my fault I'm not an American citizen!"
"No, but if you didn't dress and wear your hair like some degenerate punk rocker—"
"I like my hair," Yugi grumbled, self-consciously brushing a long blond strand in front out of his eyes, then running his hand over the fuchsia-tipped black spikes in back.
"—they wouldn't have been so suspicious of you," Rebecca continued as if he hadn't interrupted. "And speaking of, that would explain how you can fit two week's worth of luggage into a carry-on bag. How much room do you need for a couple pairs of jeans and black t-shirts and tank tops?"
"We'll be on an Alaskan cruise. I fit sweaters, a fleece jacket, and a tuxedo in that bag," he said, jerking his head to indicate the compartment above them.
"Oh yay, more black," she snipped. "I, on the other hand, understand that a cruise requires a stylish and varied wardrobe."
"Which will be very helpful when your stylish and varied wardrobe doesn't make it to San Francisco. You do realize there's no way they got your bag on this plane on time."
"Of course they did. I was through customs in fifteen minutes. They had plenty of time to check my bag to San Francisco while I was waiting for you."
"Well, I'm just glad we made it. Now let's just hope this is the one plane we've been on in the last twenty-four hours that takes off on time."
The plane began backing away from the gate and the flight attendants gave their safety demonstration while Yugi and Rebecca watched the Virginia landscape roll by. The plane turned off the taxiway and onto the runway, then stopped. Yugi and Rebecca exchanged apprehensive glances, but then the plane began to accelerate down the runway, pressing them back into their seats, and soon they were off the ground. Both of them let out breaths they didn't even realize they'd been holding.
"We actually took off on time," Yugi breathed, relief washing over him once more. "Barring a plane crash—"
"Which with the luck we're having is likely," Rebecca interrupted.
He nodded, rolling his eyes skyward. "Good point. But we're due for some good luck so I think we'll make it before check-in ends at four."
"Good. Then you can finally stop pining for a certain blue-eyed brunette."
He gaped at her. "Pining? I don't pine!"
"Oh, please," she rolled her eyes. "You so pine. Though I don't know what you see in her." She sighed dramatically, as if resigned. "I suppose it's my fault. I can't blame you for being on the rebound after I broke your heart."
He growled deep in his throat. "Would you STOP SAYING THAT! YOU WERE NEVER MY GIRLFRIEND!"
The man on the other side of Yugi was staring at them now. Yugi turned crimson, muttered an apology, then glared at Rebecca. "You are just a kid!" he finished, whispering fiercely, separately emphasizing each of the last three words.
She gave him a smug smile in return. "I graduated college six months before you."
"So you're a really smart kid, but still a kid." Shaking his hands at her as if restraining himself from strangling her, he added, "A really annoying kid. You are so lucky you're the one who got us on this plane."
"And don't you forget it!" she replied haughtily. "Was I being annoying then?"
"Well, yeah. It just worked in my favor."
She scowled. "I got us rebooked in Paris, too."
"Yes, you did," he conceded. "You're a genius, Rebecca, and I love you like a little sister, but you're still only thirteen and you don't know everything."
She gave him an odd look that he couldn't interpret and then folded her arms and looked over the tops of her glasses at him. "Oh really? So tell me, have you decided where you're going to grad school?"
He let his breath out in irritation. "Not yet."
She smiled, as if that settled it. "I may not know everything, but I know pining when I see it."
He folded his arms and turned away from her, mumbling, "I do not pine."
She snorted, but he ignored her. Not that she didn't have a point, though he would never admit it to her. The last six months had been miserable for many reasons, not the least of which was the complete isolation from his friends. Without a doubt, however, the one person he missed the most was Téa. As excited as he was to see everyone and to compete in Duel Monsters again after so long, the thing that made him so frustrated with every delay was that it would be that much longer until he saw her again. He could picture her the last time he'd seen her as they said good-bye at the Domino airport when he had left for Cairo two years ago. She'd been crying, her face wet with tears as she hugged him and made him promise to stay in touch. He did, too—with all his friends, not just her—all the way up until they left Cairo to go on the dig.
He shuddered, trying not to think about the past six months. While very educational, in many ways it had been damaging to his psyche in a way he couldn't even explain. But now he was a six-hour plane flight and a cab ride away from seeing her, from seeing all his dearest friends.
And afterwards? Well, Rebecca was right about that too. Egypt had taken a toll on all of them, not just Yugi, and two months ago Professor Hawkins had announced that upon their return he would settle his affairs in Cairo and then return home to northern California with Rebecca. She'd finished her bachelor's degree in information technology just before the expedition and had her choice of grad schools in the U.S. The professor went on to recommend that Yugi, who would receive his own bachelor's degree upon completion of the dig, should reconsider his plans to attend grad school in Cairo and instead get his master's degree in America at one of the two universities with which Professor Hawkins was affiliated. The first was the University of California Berkeley near San Francisco and the second was Columbia University in New York City.
Yugi's first reaction was to jump at the chance to go to school in New York City. The thought of being in the same city as Téa was almost overwhelming. It had occurred to him at that moment that ever since he'd solved the Millennium Puzzle, Téa had spent a large amount of time following him from tournament to tournament, supporting him and the Pharaoh in all their exploits, right down to spending her entire savings to buy tickets for herself, Joey, and Tristan to fly with him to Egypt for their last adventure. He found himself wanting to return the favor, to follow her for a change, to support her in her dreams. Two years she'd been in New York and he hadn't even gone there once to see her dance.
But at the same time, the idea of going to grad school in New York was a little unnerving. It had been two years since she'd confessed that her feelings for him went beyond friendship, but with everything so confused because of Atem's recent departure and their imminent separation, they'd never discussed it again. Not a day had gone by since, however, when he didn't think about it, didn't think about her and how he felt about her.
He'd always adored her, but prior to graduation he'd just buried his feelings, believing she would never return them. But now? The problem was, two years was a long time and Téa had been living in a different world surrounded by new friends. She'd dated other guys while in New York; nothing serious, he knew, at least not prior to him losing contact with her, but still, it tended to indicate that during their time apart she'd gotten over whatever she'd felt for him—if it had ever even really been about him at all—and he was just a friend to her after all. Not that the term friend deserved a qualifier like just. His friends, all of them, were the most important things in the world to him. He treasured her friendship in whatever form, but would it be difficult to be in the same city with her if he wanted more than she could give?
That very question is what made him so indecisive. It was stupid, he knew, to base his choice of grad school on what someone else wanted, but after two years of being away, he knew what he most wanted: to be with her.
And in less than eight hours, he would be.
She arrived at the waterfront early, a few hours before the check-in time indicated on her invitation. She drank some coffee at a café at Fisherman's Wharf and bought a sandwich for later, then walked over to the famous Pier 39, her long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and tucked under a baseball cap pulled low on her forehead to keep the sun out of her eyes. It was a brisk morning, and she was grateful for her warm leather jacket as she walked along the pier, watching the sea lions basking in the morning sun.
From there she could look east and see Pier 35, where the USS Chrysaor, the ship chartered by the Duel at Sea Tournament organizers, was docked. It was a medium-sized cruise ship, with about a six-hundred passenger capacity, although for this trip she figured there couldn't be more than half that number even if every duelist brought a guest. The ship was extremely luxurious, at least according to the brochure that had come with her invitation. It carried fewer passengers than most ships of its tonnage, and had larger cabins and more amenities. Whoever was backing this tournament must have some serious cash, as the entrance fees couldn't possibly have been enough to pay for such a high-end ship at only half capacity, and that wasn't even taking into account the prizes.
At one point, the luxury accommodations and amenities of such a tournament would have been the most attractive aspect of this competition to her, but those days had long since past. She no longer dueled for money. She didn't even duel for fame or to win. She dueled because she loved to duel. She loved the strategies and the counter-strategies, she loved sizing up her opponents and finding their strengths and weaknesses and using both to her advantage, and she loved the connection she felt to the cards in her deck, particularly her treasured Harpies.
When she'd first learned to play—on a cruise ship, she remembered with a smile—the cards had been like friends to her and she'd been hooked. That was eight years ago, but it seemed a lifetime. She'd been sixteen, with a fake ID saying she was twenty-one so she could work in the casino. Somewhere along the way, she'd lost that connection and all that mattered was winning and prizes. Her life, she realized, was as fake as her ID and the memory of that life made her smile fade. It had taken her a long time to get back where she played the game simply for the love of it—for the "heart of the cards," as Yugi Mutou would call it. A couple of years ago, after she'd had to remake herself again following the debacle that was her life the year following Battle City, she threw out the fake ID and with it, her fake life. She was past twenty-one anyway, so there was no point in pretending to be older any longer. No point in pretending to be anything she wasn't any longer.
The only vestige of her fake life that was left was the last name she had chosen for herself when she'd run away at sixteen. When paired with her first name, it was a silly, sickly-sweet pun that only a sixteen-year-old girl (or Vegas Showgirl) could dream up, but it was more real to her now than the name she'd been born with, so she'd kept it, even went through the process of legally changing her name so she could put everything that was fake behind her and make a genuine new start.
From her vantage point on Pier 39, she looked toward the Chrysaor. Yugi Mutou would be there. Although for the most part the officials were trying to keep the guest list hush-hush, they were falling all over themselves to advertise that Yugi would be in attendance. The King of Games returns and all that. And if Yugi was dueling, she knew who else was bound to be there. He certainly was good enough to have been invited, anyway. She'd been following his career closely, mostly just to keep track of how he was doing, but also to make sure she never entered a tournament where he was likely to be competing. But now was the time. She'd faced her demons; now all that was left was to face him.
But not quite yet. The chaos that was sure to surround embarkation was not the right time nor place, which was why she was here so early, long before any of the other duelists or their guests would arrive. Although all the passengers were supposed to arrive within a specific two-hour window of time before they launched, she had no doubts she could get someone to let her aboard early, giving her time to find her cabin and settle in before facing them… before facing him.
Speaking of which, if she was going to get on board that ship before the other duelists arrived, it was time to get moving. Checking her watch, she saw it was a few minutes before noon. Perfect. Hoisting her backpack over her shoulder and dragging her suitcase on its wheels behind her, she headed down the Embarcadero toward Pier 35.
As she'd planned, the pier was fairly quiet, with only dockworkers and the ship's crew around working to prepare for the voyage. The gangplank was already down, however, and she saw a man dressed in a smart white uniform and cap standing near the bottom of it, talking with a dockworker. He was in his late twenties with dark hair and dark eyes, reasonably attractive but not drop-dead gorgeous, which was a plus. The perfect mark. Smiling, she pulled the baseball cap off and shook her long, blonde hair out of the ponytail. She fished a compact and lipstick out of her backpack and did a quick touch-up job, examining herself in the compact's small mirror. Mascara perfect, with long thick lashes framing violet eyes. Lipstick needed some touching up, but that was taken care of in short order. She gave the mirror a practice smile and wink before putting the compact and lipstick back, then unzipping her jacket to show off her low-cut camisole, headed for the gangplank.
"Excuse me, captain," she said, flashing a bright smile to the crewmember, who was clearly a deputy purser and not the captain, "is this the Chrysaor? I'm supposed to be in a Duel Monsters tournament here."
The purser looked annoyed at the interruption at first, until he turned and got a look at her, after which he immediately smiled in return. "Yes, miss, this is the Chrysaor, but I'm afraid we aren't letting passengers on board until two o'clock."
"Oh no!" she replied, biting her lip in a calculated pout. The purser, she noted, was about her height, around five foot eight, but with her high-heeled boots, she was towering over him a bit. Hunching down to make herself appear less imposing and more helpless, she reached into the inside pocket of her jacket, giving her another opportunity to show off her cleavage, and pulled out the tournament invitation. "But my invitation said to check in at noon." She handed it to him for verification.
"No, miss, see here," he told her, pointing to the invitation. "It says two o'clock."
She pretended to read the invitation again, then gave him a look of dismay. "You're right! So stupid of me, I thought it said twelve o'clock." Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked around, as if suddenly wary of her surroundings. "Oh, what am I going to do? My cab already left and I don't have anywhere to go for two whole hours." She bit her lip again, and looked at the purser with wide eyes.
"Well, we can take your bags if you like, and Fisherman's Wharf isn't far from here. You can walk down there and do some sightseeing," he suggested.
She frowned deeper. "Oh, that just seems so far and I'm not feeling very well." She chewed her lip some more. "Captain, don't you think you could make an exception and let me check in now? I just want to find my cabin and rest, that's all. Otherwise I just don't think I'll be able to compete tomorrow. I won't be in anyone's way."
"I'm not the captain, miss, I'm a purser, and I really don't have the authority—"
"Oh please?" she begged, leaning closer to him, twirling her hair around her finger. "Couldn't you just do me this one tiny little favor?"
Now he was biting his lip and she knew she had him. "All right, let's see what I can do. Wait right here," he told her, then disappeared up the gangplank.
A moment later he reappeared with a clipboard in his hand and a porter in tow. He led her up the gangplank and into the entranceway of the ship while the porter took her bags. There was a long table where tournament officials were busy setting up registration. "They're not ready to register people for the tournament yet, but I can check you into your cabin and will make sure your name gets registered with the tournament officials, all right Miss…?"
"Valentine." His eyes widened just slightly at her name before he regained control and put back on his mask of professionalism. It never failed to amuse her the way men would react to her name, assuming all sorts of things from that alone. Well, okay, that and the blonde hair, short skirts, and low cut camisoles. One of these days she was going to tell one of them her first name was Bambi just to see what reaction that would get. But now the only thing she wanted was her cabin. "And what's your name?" she asked the purser demurely.
"My name is Evan Haines," he replied. "I'm one of the deputy pursers."
"Oh, thank you Evan, for all your help. You're just so sweet," she enthused.
"My pleasure, Miss Valentine," he replied with a beaming grin. "I just need to see your ID and travel documents."
She fished the requested papers out of her backpack and handed them to him. He looked them over and handed them back, then looked her name up on his clipboard. "Well, Miss Valentine, you must be quite high ranking. You have one of the large ocean-view mini-suites on the Aloha Deck."
"Oh, that just sounds spectacular," she gushed.
He returned his clipboard to the front desk, and then motioned for her to follow him to the elevators then up to the Aloha Deck near the top of the ship. After leaving the elevators, they walked down a narrow hallway on the port side of the ship, past a set of huge double doors on their left.
"That looks like one swanky stateroom," she remarked.
"Yes, that is our Grand Master Olympian suite. There's another one, the Grand Master Titan Suite on the starboard side of this deck. They're our best two staterooms, except, of course, for the Penthouse Suite up on the Sun Deck. The tournament host is staying there."
"Who gets the suites on this deck?" she asked.
He shrugged. "I left the room list back at the front desk. All staterooms were assigned by the tournament hosts. I guess whoever the cream of the crop is," he replied.
I've got a good guess which two duelists will get those suites, she thought. Figures she'd end up on the same deck as Yugi, although it was a compliment to her skills as a duelist if cabins were assigned by ranking. Besides, it wasn't like she was going to hide out from them for long.
"Your stateroom is a mini-suite. The next best thing to the Grand Master Suites," Evan told her, leading her all the way down the hall to the end. "You must be an excellent duelist."
"European champion," she confirmed, but cast her eyes down in modesty, as if she, a mere girl, were embarrassed to be so good.
"Wow. You from Europe then? You don't have an accent."
"I'm from all over," she replied vaguely.
Evan opened the door with a keycard, which he handed to her as they entered. The porter followed behind with her luggage. As promised, it was a very elegant suite with a small living area to the left and the bedroom to her right. There was a large window overlooking the ocean, rather than the tiny porthole she'd been expecting. Not bad, she thought. She tipped the porter and he left, while Evan launched into the welcome spiel.
"All the information about the ship and where to find things is here," he showed her, indicating a small desk near the door. "There is a mandatory Muster Drill at five and we set sail at six. Information about the drill and where to find life jackets and the location of your assigned muster station are all in the information packet."
She put on her best pouting face. "Oh, Evan, do I really have to do the lifeboat drill? I'm really not feeling well and I so need a nap before dinner tonight."
"I'm afraid it's Coast Guard regulations, Miss Valentine. You need to bring your life preserver, too."
She leaned in very close to him. "Surely you can arrange something?"
He shuffled his feet. "I'd lose my job, and it's for your own safety, so you know what to do in event of emergency."
She stood up straight and began reciting from memory, "In the event of an emergency, passengers must report to their pre-assigned muster station, which is in one of the ship's public areas. If necessary, after an assessment by the captain, passengers would be led from their muster stations to available lifeboats. The International Maritime Organization mandates that a ship must be able to be evacuated in thirty minutes." She glanced at a placard on the back of the door. "The assigned Muster Station for this deck is the Siren Lounge located on the Promenade Deck, four decks down, port side. I am to use the stairs, which are located around the corner from the elevator."
She was pleased to see his surprised expression. "I used to work on a cruise ship," she told him.
"I could lose my job," he repeated, but she could tell he was caving in.
"Oh, but it will be our little secret. Just check me off the attendance list and I'll stay here and rest."
He sighed, succumbing at last. "All right. But in exchange, you have to let me buy you a drink at the tournament kick-off ball tonight."
She smiled brightly. "Oh, that would be lovely."
He gave her a somewhat licentious smile and she resisted the urge to slug him as he picked up where he'd left off on the welcome speech. "Dinner is at seven and will be formal, as will the ball afterwards in the Dionysus Ballroom, where the tournament officials will explain all the rules of the tournament. The actual competition starts tomorrow morning at eight o'clock. Now," he finished, "is there anything else I can help you with, Miss Valentine?"
"No, Evan, thank you. I'm really tired; I think I'll just take a rest. It was so sweet of you to let me check in early."
"No problem. I'll make sure you get registered with the tournament officials. I'll bring your badge by before dinner."
"Thank you," she said, handing him a generous tip. She then ushered him out of the room, but he was reluctant to go.
"I'll see you in the Dionysus Ballroom tonight, then."
"Yes, of course, thank you," she said quickly, shutting the door behind him. When it was closed, she leaned against it and breathed a sigh of relief. The things I go through just to get into my room…
Well, not as much as I had to go through to get a room on the ship to Duelist Kingdom, she reminded herself, shuddering at the thought of having sucked up that toad Rex Raptor, and for a room that wasn't half as grand as this one, either.
But that trip had other memories, too; ones that were at once more pleasant and more painful. It had been then, on a ship not unlike this one, where she'd met first met Joey Wheeler and his friends nearly five years ago. It seemed fitting, then, that she finally face him again on a ship. Everything significant in her life seemed to happen aboard a ship.
Not everything, she reminded herself. That last duel with Joey was in a vacant lot in San Francisco.
Leaving her bags on the floor, she flopped down on the bed, feeling drained. Three years. It had been almost three years since she'd forced him into that Orichalcos duel. Three long years of taking a long hard look at herself, of trying to really improve herself, not just in dueling skills, but to truly become a better person. Well, okay, she still tended to use her looks to get what she wanted from the Evans of the world, and she knew she was still abrasive and mouthy when dealing with competitors, especially guys with big heads and over-inflated opinions of their dueling skills. But she was not afraid to face her fears, or her memories. Not even her Shadow Game with Marik, the one that had temporarily stripped her memories of her friends, giving her the nightmares that she'd been running from when she'd landed in Dartz's snare. That duel, of course, had also taken place on a ship, if you counted a giant zeppelin as a ship. She shuddered, remembering being trapped in the Shadow Realm. Remembering Joey blocking the worst of the last attack, holding her face in his hands, telling her he wouldn't leave her because they were friends.
Why didn't I believe him?
A million reasons, actually. Because she'd been falling for him and didn't want to be. Because he was only sixteen then and she was twenty but living as a twenty-five-year old. Because she thought maybe he'd been falling for her too, but she wasn't really sure and she didn't know which scared her more, that he might have feelings for her or that he might not. Because he never called, never wrote, never contacted her after Battle City; not that she ever called, wrote, or contacted him.
So many painful memories. She wished she could banish them once and for all, but she knew better than to fight them. The more she denied her memories, the more power they had over her, and she would not let memories of the past rule her future again.
She was not the person she was when she'd met them all on the ship to Duelist Kingdom. She wasn't the person she was at Battle City, when she'd dueled Marik. She certainly wasn't the person she was when she'd sold her soul to Dartz just to try and gain power over her nightmares. She'd learned to play Duel Monsters for the love of the game again, not to prove to the world that she wasn't worthless. She'd forced herself to reach out to people rather than to pretend she didn't need anyone, and she'd even made some friends, duelists and non-duelists she'd met in her travels. It was hard to stay close to anyone, traveling so much, but she didn't isolate herself anymore, either. The difference was, she wanted close friends now. She wasn't actively running from them. She could have had that kind of friendship with Joey if she'd only let it happen. Maybe it wasn't too late; maybe they could still have that friendship yet.
If he could ever forgive her.
That was the question that plagued her, the thing that made her put off facing him for much longer than she should have. She tried to tell herself she was going to apologize to him face-to-face for all the right reasons, because she owed it to him, and that she did not expect forgiveness. But the truth was, there was nothing she wanted more. She wanted a blank slate, to be able to start over and be the kind of friend he deserved, but she was terrified that she had done too much damage to ever take back. Joey had a whole crowd of friends, people whom he trusted and who had never betrayed him. Why on earth would he need her?
The one thing that brought her hope, however, was the Pharaoh. Funny how she'd known Yugi for two years before the whole Orichalcos mess, but it took joining up with Dartz to understand about the existence of the Pharaoh and the true significance of that stupid Puzzle thing that he always wore around his neck. But the Pharaoh brought her hope, because she knew that he, too, had played the Orichalcos card and had lost Yugi's soul the way she'd lost Joey's. If they could forgive the Pharaoh, then maybe it was possible for them to forgive her as well.
Maybe. Well, either way, she'd find out soon enough.