Back on the boat, they learn that nobody else encountered Roboppi or Blue Maiden, though Spectre's lips twist a little when her name crops up.

Ryoken however looks furious when he learns just what, exactly, Roboppi has been doing to her. 'I cannot let this stand!' he hisses out, jaw tight as he stares out at the wall as though he wants to burn it down. 'I will not let history repeat itself!'

The other scientists look similarly shaken.

'We can't do anything without finding her physical body,' Yusaku says slowly. He's slumped on the chair, heavily folded in on himself, arms crossed like a physical barrier. Usually he'd sit a little straighter, stare out a little more harshly at everybody, and Ai can't get a decent read on him because of it. 'It's different from all those other times people have had their consciousness stolen in the network because their bodies weren't stolen as well; they were left in their homes or in a hospital, under the supervision of their families or doctors. Which means that even if we free Zaizen in the net, she'll still be trapped wherever she is the real world.'

Ai rolls his eyes up to the ceiling. Honestly – what would they do without him!

'So we find her,' he says evenly, beckoning to Pandor with a finger. She drifts over, curious, and Ai pulls up a holographic screen, tapping it idly with the same finger he used to get her attention. 'While Playmaker was distracting that weird Roboppi person, I gave Blue Maiden a new card to put in her deck; one with a tracker in it.'

Okay, that definitely puts a little steel back into Yusaku's spine. For he straightens, fastening a sharp look at Ai, a fleeting look of surprise dawning before it rapidly fades. Good.

'Here we go,' Ai mutters, pulling up a visual of the card. 'Splash Mage – given its effect, I figure it would work nicely with the way she likes to recycle monsters from her graveyard – I was even nice enough to make sure it was water attribute as well.'

Pandor tilts her head to the side. 'A Cyberse card?'

Ai scowls. 'What's wrong with that? There's one in Yusaku's deck!'

'Nothing, if it does exactly what you say it does,' Ryoken says evenly. He glides round the desk to stand by Pandor, registering the small beep of light flaring in a corner of the screen. 'She's not even in Den City; somewhere north.' He gives Ai an appraising look. 'Well done,' he says after a moment, though he sounds more than a little grudging as he does so.

But Ai grins. Because praise is praise, and he'll take it whenever he can!

'Heh.' He spits it out smugly, enough to make Ryoken's frown deepen, and then glances out through the window, eye alighting on the twinkle of the sea. 'Are we using this boat to speed to her rescue?' he asks off-hand. 'Might be difficult given that she's nowhere near the ocean.'

'We should check out properties owned by Queen, the former head of SOL Technologies,' Yusaku says brusquely. 'That's who Blue Maiden hinted was working with Roboppi.'

Huh. So that's why Blue Maiden was going on about thrones before?

Yusaku clambers to his feet. 'Now that we know what we're doing; how long till we make land?'

Ryoken's eyes pass over him. Perhaps he can see the same things Ai sees; the way Yusaku holds himself, more stiffly than usually, and the way his eyes are harder, more furious as they glare out at nothing in particular.

'Let's not rush,' he says. 'First: we rest.'

Yusaku crashes into a set of long grey lounge seats, laid out in a spacious room that overlooks the deck. The windows are long glass stripes that stare out at the world, offering a decent view and it makes Ai wonder, not for the first time, if the Knights of Hanoi have liberated this vehicle from a ferry or tourist related company.

Yusaku shifts. And hides his head in the seat, his arms buried beneath like a spare pillow.

Ai frowns. 'Yusaku?'

And then Yusaku starts to shake. Now thoroughly alarmed, Ai races over to his side. 'Yusaku!'

And Yusaku spits out a trembling, almost scornful laugh. It shakes his shoulders, rattles every inch of his delicate human frame and Ai panics, unsure where to touch or offer comfort, before Yusaku rolls back to face him, the laugh cutting off into an abrupt sob, dry and entirely without tears.

Ai freezes.

Yusaku stares at him, a wrecked expression on his face. Then his hand fumbles out from beneath him, gripping Ai tightly by the wrist. His fingers bite, hard enough to register uncomfortably on the sensors there and Ai winces. For a minute he just lets Yusaku hold him, lets him stare at him and then tentatively he passes his free hand over Yusaku's fringe, lets it fold back, away from his forehead.

Yusaku closes his eyes at the touch and breathes out. Deeply. Then in again. In. Then out. Ai counts five seconds for each breath and it occurs to him that Yusaku is doing the same.

'You've been holding this back, huh?' he asks, and Yusaku's eyes open, fix on his face with a softness that Ai's not sure he deserves.

Ai offers a smile and hopes it's the right thing to do. Then he asks another question. 'Are you mad at me?' he asks softly.

Yusaku's lips twitch. 'Yes and no,' he replies after a moment. 'You interfered with a Duel, my Duel, and the Duellist in me hates that. But I'm grateful too.' His stare is haunted. 'I haven't lost a Duel in a very long time.'

Ai remembers cries of pain and sobs from a child, from over a decade back and shivers.

'I know,' he says softly. 'Roboppi...what they gave me, was a copy of some memories. My very first memories. I know now, what you had to go through in order for me to exist.'

Yusaku stiffens. 'Anything else?' he asks.

Ai shakes his head. 'Nope! Just...just the Lost Incident.' He pauses, feels the need to ask about Flame and Aqua; he knows from these new - well, old - memories now that there were other experiments run alongside his and Yusaku's, other AI being born, and due to his recent experiences with Blood Sheppard and Blue Maiden, he knows the names of two of them. And yet...

Yusaku is here and frightened and crashing, hand curling round his wrist like a life-line. And they, Flame and Aqua, and those nameless others...they are not.

Ai grimaces at the thought. And finally, after a quick calculation, he dismantles the trackers Roboppi first placed inside him all those months ago. Because it's very clear that despite being an AI like him, Roboppi has very, very firm ideas of what sort of companionship he should be seeking out. And Ai's not so sure he agrees with them. At all.

'Brace yourself, Yusaku,' he warns, and then he moves, free hand curling round Yusaku's head so he can shift it into his lap, as he slides onto the seat beneath. He grins down at his partner's bemused expression. 'Here! Delight in the softness of my lap-pillow!' Then he softens, hand moving back to stroke Yusaku's fringe. 'Though I can understand if you don't want to fall for me anymore. I was the source of a lot of pain for you, huh?'

Yusaku's bemused stare morphs back into a rather angry-looking frown. 'You didn't choose to exist; nobody does. You certainly didn't engineer the Lost Incident.' His hands loosens against Ai's trapped wrist, slides down so it's lying palm to palm. 'You never needed to be forgiven for that; so don't make the mistake of thinking you deserve to be resented for it either. It's the people on the boat here who have to deal with that.'

Ah. More answers. But Ai doesn't chase down any more of them. Instead he smiles. And after a moment, Yusaku smiles back. It's a tiny, delicate line of his face, easy enough to crush, to wipe away with the wrong word, the wrong actions. So for once, Ai does nothing. He just sits there, stroking his partner's hair.

And they both rest there, for as long as they dare.

Yusaku is wretched back to the world an hour later, by a thud. He blinks, Ai's hands stiff on his hair, colours sliding into view until they solidify into Ai's angry face, glaring out at Spectre, who stands in the doorway, a smug smile on his face.

'How nice,' he says, eyes gleaming in a way that is anything but. 'I remember a time you two would fall out over a simple Duelling tactic; but now it looks like the trust between you is so strong that one of you can act like furniture for the other without complaint!'

Yusaku frowns; sleep is still clouding his mind slightly, enough to dull the embarrassment he has of being caught utilising Ai as a pillow by Spectre, of all people. Still, he does push himself up, ignoring the blossoming pout on Ai's face as he does so.

And Spectre's eyes immediately narrow, his voice adopting that patronising, wheedling tone that drove Ai up the wall in their past duels against him. 'Or is it because the Dark Ignis has lost his memories? Is that why he agrees so easily to being your docile pet now?'

Ai's pout transforms into a glare. 'Huh? Who's whose pet?' He turns his face to the side with a sneer, curling a palm round his ear as though straining to hear a faint yell in the distance. 'Eh? What's that? I think your master Revolver is calling for you? Why don't you run back to him like the dog that you are, Spectre-kun?'

Spectre grins. 'Thanks for the compliment. A dog is exactly what I am; I would never turn against him.' His eyes bore into them both, the intensity making Ai cock his head in confusion. 'Though I doubt you can say the same, Dark Ignis. The past – the past you say you can't remember - proves that your loyalty has always been for yourself.'

'Good,' says Yusaku firmly, standing up and inspecting the outside world through the windows; he can see that they've docked, the greys and browns of brick houses from some seaside town flashing out above the glint of the sea. 'That's as it should be; everyone has the right to self-preservation. I never asked for Ai to chain himself to me.' He fixes Spectre with a look.

But all Spectre does is tut. 'Careful, Fujiki. I don't think your sense of justice, and the lengths your Ignis will go to defend himself are mutually compatible. Your desire to defend him will only lead to more human causalities in the long run; and we all know how much that would weigh on you.'

You don't know a thing, Yusaku thinks contemptuously. Not when it comes to my partner. None of the Knights of Hanoi do, no matter how many times they analyse Ai's past. He turns to said partner. 'Let's go.'

'Oh my,' Spectre says with a look of dawning delight. 'Are you ignoring me? Did my words hit a nerve?'

Yusaku refuses to respond. It's exactly what Spectre wants; he thrives on provoking others, which is why Yusaku wants to get Ai out of his verbal range as soon as possible. Something that is looking to be increasingly hard to do by the way Ai now stares at Spectre stiffly, hands clenched on his lap.

'Are you sure you're following your dear Revolver-sama's orders now?' his partner drawls. His glare softens, turning sly. 'I can't think why he would ask you to come and needle us. Do you think he'd approve of picking fights with us when poor Zaizen Aoi is suffering?' A fey light appears in his eyes and he pushes himself off the seat, launching himself across the room, as though to better help him home in the way Spectre's pleased smile becomes a grimace of distaste. 'Oh? Have my words hit a nerve?'

Now it's Ai who is starting to resemble a bully,, grin lighting up his face and making him look wild and unbalanced.

So Yusaku huffs out a breath. Reaches out. And smoothly draws Ai's hand into his own.

Ai instantly starts, his wild grin disappearing in a flash. He stares down the length of his arm, blinking as his sensors register the warmth of Yusaku's tangled fingers. And then his cheeks flare a suspicious red.

'Eh?' he says. 'EH? I-in front of someone?'

Yusaku watches, amused, though he takes care not to let it show.

Mostly because Spectre's eyes are swallowing the sight of them down, briefly resting on their interlinked hands in a way that's both speculative and angry.

That's fine though; Yusaku doesn't owe him anything. And since Spectre has always been so proud at declaring his allegiance to Ryoken, well, why shouldn't Yusaku do the same? If Spectre wants to draw lines in the sand, then Yusaku will firmly strike out some of his own.

'Come along,' he says smoothly, trying to fight down his smile as Ai stares at him, dazed. Then he drags him through the door, only half-tuning out Ai's mutters of: 'what a bold development! But you're supposed to be the shy one, Yusaku-chan!' The last thing he sees of Spectre is his glare, boring out into the ocean, as though he's finally run out of things to say.

Yusaku makes sure to drop Ai's hand before they stumble out in front of the others on the boat, ignoring Ai's injured pout as he does so. There's no need to provoke anyone else without good reason and Yusaku is wary. He trusts Ryoken not to pull anything, for the moment, but the others...no, he definitely doesn't trust their view on Ai, whatever it may now be.

These thoughts occupy him, causing unease to sink into his stomach as he walks down corridors filled with plush red carpet, the walls bare of pictures and stuck in a painfully warm cream colour.

This, quite naturally, seems to offend Ai.

'Would it have killed them to inject the place with some personality?' he asks, disgust leaking into his tone. He gestures violently toward a long stretch of walls unadorned by anything except the faint, glistening web of a spider. 'Seriously! Hang up a few pictures! Make this place seem less like a school or a prison!'

'It suits our needs.' Pandor's voice suddenly drifts towards them, then, in a way that seems a tad dramatic, as she steps out of the shadows near the stairs. 'I trust you are recuperated?' she asks Yusaku, her voice warmed by the smile she wears, every line of it perfectly balanced in an elegant curve.

Yusaku nods, a little embarrassed. 'Yes,' he states, annoyance leaking into his tone with a fair amount of bite. It only grows as Ai stalks past him to glower at Pandor.

'Oh, and I suppose this minimalistic decor suits your taste as well?'

Pandor's smile widens. 'I get my fill of what you might call 'taste' by monitoring human activity on the net each day.'

Ai gazes at her. 'And you never get the urge to take part? To find your own 'taste?''

Pandor frowns. 'Why would I?'

Ai stares at her a moment more. 'Huh. Boring, aren't you? Maybe we're not as alike as I thought.' He draws back, disappointment faintly washing over his expression for a moment before it flitters out, chased away by a carefully blank look that shifts into place, like a key inside a lock.

...Yusaku isn't fond of that expression at all. 'We're ready now,' he tells Pandor. 'Tell us where Ryoken and the others are. We've made land so they have must have started planning. Or finished.'

'They're in the main lab,' she says smoothly. 'I'll just fetch Spectre.' She walks past them, ignoring Ai's theatrical groan of despair.

'Do you have to bring that guy?' he whines. 'Come on! Leave him to brood!'

Yusaku ignores him and strides forward without looking back. He's had his moment of weakness. Now he has to re-forge himself again; become someone who can help both Ai and Aoi. It's the least he can do, with or without the mantle of 'Playmaker' weighing him down.

Ai drapes his arms over the back of a chair, having decided to sit on it the wrong way round and meets the eyes of whoever dares to gaze at him with a smug smile. His leg jostles against Yusaku's with a nervous jitter, energy thrumming beneath it like an overworked engine and Yusaku wants to tell him to calm down, but is preoccupied himself with trying to project an image of stability. Arms crossed, back straight, staring straight out with a gaze a stranger could flinch from; he wants to make up for before.

Though quite frankly, what he really wants is...

One: for Aoi to be safe at home, with her brother where she belongs.

Two: for Ai to be away from these people who all, at some point, have expressed their desires to see him deleted.

Three: for himself to be off this boat and away from these scientists who refused to say no to Doctor Kogami, who forced Ryoken, a child, to make the decision they all should have made eleven years ago: to call the police.

Still. He has to admit that there's strength in numbers, which is the only real reason he's here. And he can't help but feel relieved, when Baira and Genome volunteer to stay on the boat with Pandor, to monitor the network.

Faust however decides to come with them.

'You may find that I am more useful in the real world than you think,' he intones gravely and Yusaku stares at him, remembering that yes, this is a man who once upon a time knocked out Shima Naoki with ease and then transported and restrained him in a far, out of the way warehouse – things that require a fair amount of muscle.

So he says nothing in protest. Though a part of him, a small, hard, petty part of him does want to speak out against Spectre's accompaniment. He's not an idiot; he bristles whenever Aoi is brought up and he seems to have far more of personal problem with him and Ai than he did previously, in their fight against Lightning. Yusaku's not sure why, and quite frankly, he doesn't care.

'Can I trust you not to mock a traumatised person?' he asks when Spectre arrives. 'It's no secret that you view Zaizen Aoi with contempt; your body language gives it all away.'

Spectre's lips tighten. 'You can trust that I'll do the job that Revolver has asked of me.'

Ryoken looks at him for a moment thoughtfully. 'And I trust we can all temporarily put aside our differences to ensure our goal,' he states evenly and with such deep conviction that the room seems to resound with it; Baira's eyes flicker over to them, darting worriedly between Ai and Spectre for a moment before she lowers her gaze back to her computer. While Faust stares stiffly at the floor, gaze troubled.

'All of us,' Ryoken adds very, very firmly, gaze boring into Ai, who immediately stiffens.

'Hey! Why are you looking at me like that! I've been good, haven't I? I'm not the one going out and kidnapping and torturing people!'

'You stand out,' Ryoken says. 'Your outfit draws unnecessary attention from passing strangers, even if only for a moment. It's eye-catching because your clothes are not something you see someone wear everyday. And we want to avoid that.'

Ai looks as though someone just told him they've had to delete part of his personality. He gingerly draws his hands down over his waistcoat and then strokes the end of his coattails mournfully. 'Well, I suppose going incognito is a bit exciting...like a spy!' he grins, cheered at the thought. Then quickly frowns and shoots a suspicious look at Ryoken. 'You're not going to ask me to change my face, right? Since given how handsome it is, it's gonna have people turning their heads like that.' He clicks his fingers together abruptly with a bright leer.

Ryoken smirks. 'No. Being attractive tends to soften human perception. It's easier to talk your way into a place.' His smirk widens, becomes a grin that typically Yusaku has only seen him wear inside the Vrains. 'In fact...you could say some of our strategy depends on it.' And now there's definately something smug about his smile. 'Rest assured, Dark Ignis, I won't have you change your outfit yet. In fact, I'll have you earn some of that attention you so crave...'

Yusaku's heart sinks at the look of intrigue that immediately spreads over Ai's face as a result of these words.

...He has a very bad feeling about this.

Picture this: a woman fallen from power. Discontent with her life.

She sleeps in bed that feels both too hard and too soft, and wakes in a sweat. Her dreams are haunted by the rude buzz that resounds when your life-points hit zero in a duel. In them she crashes against a wall, sometimes scarlet, sometimes dark. She hears a voice as harsh as a jackal's, as deadly as a storm, grating but low, attached to a face too pretty to be human. The green diamond on the wretched neck glows like a torch, throws out a spotlight on her face. She can't run. Can't move. Only sleep after it finds her.

She takes to bed-sheets with heavy tones, swamps her duvet and pillow cases with tones of wine-red and dark green. Nothing though that ever falls within the shades of black or purple.

Sometimes she thinks she is still in that hospital bed, waiting to wake up. Sometimes, too much of her is lost, and she buzzes round the network like a fly.

Sometimes Roboppi finds her. And they always wear a look caught between pity and fear when they do.

Queen hates that. She hates them.

'I was trying to sleep!' she hisses at them.

Roboppi hums and crosses their arms behind their head. 'It doesn't look that way to me,' they say.

'You're just an AI,' Queen spits. 'What do you know?' She tosses her head back. 'When are you going to keep up your end of the deal?'

'Oh Queen,' Roboppi sings, the cold hard, corners of their mouth curling, up, up, up and away. 'I already have.' They grin, lean and hard. 'Night, night.'

And then Queen loses herself once more.