OP2: "Back Again" by Daughtry


Chapter 16: "Aokigahara"


The clock was inching close to midnight as Mike laid his belongings in the large duffel bag on his desk.

Nearly forty-eight hours had passed since the revelation that the final stage of Mike's Pro Circuit training would unfold in Japan, under the tutelage of a "Master Duelist." From there, the events of the days that came after felt as though they had passed like a blur.

The day after his duel with Mr. Copperson, he had to spend the whole day with him in his office going over numerous legal forms Mike had to read and sign, the majority of which the Mayor needed to help secure a passport for his flight to Japan. Everything else consisted of regulatory documents, which would enable Mike to jump right into the thick of the Pro Circuit world upon the successful completion of his training. Their last activity before concluding that day had been booking the least-expensive round-trip flight to Japan they could, as Bulbous had offered to pay for his ticket out of his own pocket.

The next day, Mike was afforded one last day to spend with Violet, Danny, Marina, and Josiah, which they didn't let go to waste. The day had started in the trailer, hanging around and conversing as usual. But it wasn't long before Danny's hype over Mike's training convinced them to visit their local game shop, where the guys found themselves some booster sets to upgrade their decks. And while they sat around the shop showing each other their pulls and brainstorming strategies, the girls couldn't help but poke fun at the boys as they "nerded out" over their new cards; the majority of that flak being flung at Danny by Marina.

Now, hours later, Mike sat at his desk, packing necessities for the trip in an old duffel bag Bulbous had lent to him. He was down to his last item—his duel disk—which he placed atop his neat pile of clothes and accessories, before zipping that last compartment as he breathed a sigh of relief. All that was left was to board his flight to Japan in the morning, and then his training with this "Master Duelist" could begin.

"Hey, you busy?"

Mike turned to where the voice had come from: there stood Violet in his half-open door, clad in her maroon bathrobe as she usually was during the evening. Her expression was weary, though whether it was from sleep, or lack thereof, he couldn't tell.

"Nah, just finished packing, actually," was his reply, prompting Violet to proceed into his room, closing the door behind her. "I thought you went to bed earlier?"

Violet shook her head as she sat down on his bed. "I did, but... can't sleep."

Mike's expression turned to one of concern as he looked to her curiously. "Everything okay?"

Violet sat in silence for a moment, averting her boyfriend's gaze as she pushed her hair behind her ear. "Just... I need you to tell me something—anything—about what's been going on with you," she said, her voice trembling. "With these 'Romans,' this feud of yours with Liam, and your missing friend, Casey..."

Mike arched a surprised eyebrow as she spoke, struggling to maintain her emotional composure. "I just can't help but feel like, after all this time, you don't trust me enough to tell me, for some reason."

Mike immediately moved from his chair to sit beside Violet. "That's not true," he tried to assure her, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. "I've always trusted you."

Violet remained silent as she looked to him with pleading eyes, which caused Mike's heart to sink with regret. Only now did it occur to him how poorly his words reflected on how he'd been keeping everything about his conflict with the Romans from her.

His arm slipped from her shoulders as he turned away, unable to meet his girlfriend's eyes as the guilt of his hypocrisy gnawed at him. He didn't see as Violet's expression began to soften, reflecting a sense of sympathy as she noticed the realization set into him.

Eventually, she found her voice again, eyeing him wanly as she asked, "will you at least tell me who Casey is?"

Mike remained motionless, though Violet noticed an immediate change in his eyes the moment she mentioned the name: the same, reflective eyes he had when haunting memories surfaced in his mind.

He heaved a sigh, trying to find the words to answer Violet with. "Casey, was... is—" He caught himself. "—my oldest friend from Frontier Haven."

Violet listened intently as the faintest smile came to his face. "She was the first person to show me any real kindness; any humanity, while I was there... she stuck by me through some really dark times. Pushing me through them when I couldn't find the strength to."

The smile then disappeared from Mike's face as quickly as it had appeared. "When I finally decided to return home, she wanted to come with me," he said melancholically. "But we got ambushed almost immediately after we left... the attackers destroyed our cart. Left me to die beneath the wreckage... and that was the last time I heard her voice, begging for me to not be dead as our assailants rode off with her."

Violet's eyes slowly widened as Mike told his story. She'd always figured that the sorts of things he had been through had been traumatic, but even with the bullet holes that she'd seen in his duster, she'd never been able to imagine just how brutal the events of his last two years could have been. And now, hearing such vivid detail from him for the first time was haunting.

Mike managed to lift his head, meeting Violet's eyes again. "The reason I've had such a hard time talking about this... is because that was my worst failure," he said, his voice etched with pain. "Because I couldn't save her."

Violet felt her chest tighten as she looked to him, barely able to handle the emotional weight behind his words, much less what they might have insinuated.

"She really means a lot to you, doesn't she?" She posed her question hesitantly, fearing that she already knew what his answer would be.

Mike was silent for a moment before nodding. "Yeah... yeah, she does."

The last straw. Violet felt as though her insides had shattered, broken by the impact of Mike's words admitting to the magnitude of Casey's meaning to him. She wanted to melt down right there: to burst out crying, lashing out at him for harboring feelings for another girl despite how long he'd claimed to have loved her. But she couldn't bring herself to do it. After all, his words hadn't been a straightforward admission of adoration, despite her mind's inability to distinguish between the two implications.

Mike, meanwhile, was burdened with an entirely different train of thought. He'd wanted to tell Violet about what had happened for so long, but he'd known that doing so would mean dredging up his most painful memory of the last two years. Sure enough, now his heart ached as the memory of being rendered powerless beneath what was left of their cart flashed across his mind, hearing the anguished cries of his closest friend, calling for him as she was carried off...

He shook his head, pushing the recollection of the event even further back into the recesses of his mind. He'd had enough of revisiting his trauma.

"Listen, it's... it's late," he abruptly changed the subject, causing Violet to glance at him. "I've got an early flight out tomorrow, and you've got graduation rehearsal. We should get some sleep."

Violet took a moment to process Mike's words, his apparent indifference only carving deeper into her heart. "Yeah. Okay."

She lifted herself from the bed, pacing back towards Mike's door before coming to a halt when she heard his voice: "Wait."

She turned to see that he'd followed, and she allowed him to wrap his arms around her, his head resting against her mussed hair.

"I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely. "Sorry it's taken me this long to tell you. I really have been trying to get better at... this."

Despite his words, Violet felt her heart sink. But as he loosened his grip, she managed to put on a fake half-smile when she met his gaze. "I know."

His hands moved to brush her face, his eyes reflecting honest compassion. "I love you."

Violet brought her hands to his, lowering them back down between them. "Love you too," she replied tepidly, her hands slipping from his. "Sleep well."

With that, she proceeded to exit his room, shutting the door behind her before sliding back along it to the floor, the last of her strength depleted from holding back tears. She covered her mouth with her hand, wanting to muffle the sound of her sobs so Mike wouldn't hear.

Now she knew just how much this "Casey" meant to him. And as soon as she'd learned that, he'd diverted away from the conversation, again. And to top it all off, he didn't even seem to realize how his words had impacted her perception of his feelings towards her.

She'd been left heartbroken.


- The Next Day -

7:09 AM. The jet engines' roar in the plane soaring overhead drowned out nearly all sound as Mike, Violet, and Bulbous walked into the Crest City airport.

"So Mike, you said Mayor Copperson's supposed to be waiting for ya here, right?" Bulbous groggily asked as they walked through the crowd in the lobby.

"Yeah, he should have everything I'll need for the trip," Mike confirmed.

As they walked, Violet was quiet as she eyed her boyfriend from behind with somber eyes. The three of them had awoken around 6 AM, before piling into the back of a taxicab nearly half an hour later, which drove them to the next city over.

The ride had been a quiet one. Bulbous had taken the opportunity to get a little extra sleep, while Mike kept his eyes fixed on the sights outside his window as they crossed city lines. Violet, who'd been sandwiched between her father and boyfriend, kept to herself during the trip, occasionally stealing glances at Mike.

She wished that she had the temerity to say something to him, though she didn't know what she would say even if she did. And now, as they inched closer to the airport terminal, she was about to throw away her last chance to say anything at all before he was gone for the next few days.

"I see him, over there!"

Violet snapped back to reality at her father's exclamation, her eyes turning to where his and Mike's had shifted to: stood alone a short distance away was Mr. Copperson, his gaze in no particular direction as he awaited their arrival, his hands hidden behind him.

As the three drew nearer, Mr. Copperson eventually caught them in his peripheral vision before turning to the trio with a grin. "Ah, Mr. Harper," he greeted Mike as he and the others stopped in front of him. "I hope this morning finds you well."

"Well enough," Mike returned through a yawn, shrugging the strap of his duffel bag further along his shoulder.

Mr. Copperson let out a short chuckle, before bringing his hands round to his front side, revealing a set of thin items held in his right hand. "Here's everything you'll need," he said, indicating his hand's contents before passing them off one-by-one to Mike: "Here's your passport, your round-trip ticket.

"And, most importantly—" Mr. Copperson paused briefly as he held up the last item in his hand: a plain, white envelope. "—your instructions, for what to do when you touch down in Japan."

Mike took hold of the envelope gently, inspecting it for a moment before raising his hand to its top fold.

"Ah-ah, just a moment," Mr. Copperson's voice warded Mike's fingers from the envelope, earning his attention as he explained: "I was actually told to instruct you to hold off from opening that envelope until you reach Japan."

Mike, along with Violet and Bulbous, raised curious eyebrows at this. "Okay...?" he said with slight unease. "Any particular reason why?"

"I honestly couldn't tell you," Mr. Copperson admitted. "That envelope was sent to me inside another envelope, along with my own instructions."

"Huh." Mike pondered Mr. Copperson's words as he looked to the sealed paper in his hand. He couldn't think of any purpose in keeping him from reviewing the instructions before he got to Japan. But he wasn't in any position to argue against this Master Duelist's wishes before his training even began, so he decided to let the matter go.

"All right." He accepted his instruction, tucking the envelope in his jacket pocket. "Until I reach Japan, then."

As Mr. Copperson smiled at Mike's compliance, the ears of each of the gathered four perked when a female voice suddenly echoed throughout the terminal through the PA: "Now boarding, flight 3-79A nonstop to Nishihama, Japan."

"I believe that's your flight," Mr. Copperson said with a glance back to Mike. "Best get a move on."

"Right," Mike agreed, before taking a deep breath and turning to face Bulbous first.

"Bulbous," he said, his voice strained with emotion. "Words will never be able to express how thankful I am to you, for letting me stay with you these last couple of months."

"Son, you're the one who saved me first," was Bulbous's answer, reflecting on the day Mike had saved him from Damian White. "Far as I'm concerned, we're square."

The two grinned before sharing a brief embrace, which was over almost as quickly as it began before Mike stepped over to face Violet, who could barely lift her head high enough to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry I won't be able to see you graduate after all," Mike said forlornly.

Violet shook her head. "It's okay," she replied, doing her best to feign equanimity. "That's just how these things go sometimes, right?"

Her apparent understanding brought a smile to Mike's face as he brought her in for one last embrace. "I'm gonna miss you."

Violet opened her mouth to reply, but found her voice stifled. Now was that last moment—her last chance to let Mike know he was about to leave things not-okay between them. But she couldn't bring herself to throw it upon him, not when he was about to embark on his last journey to prepare himself for a lifelong career. Surely, there would be a better time for them to talk when he came back.

So instead, she allowed the embrace between them to end before finally bringing herself to say, "Be safe."

Mike nodded affirmatively as he gave her one last affectionate smile, before turning to face County Dame's Mayor.

"Mr. Copperson," he said, extending his hand one last time to shake the man's hand. "I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you for all you've done to get me this far."

"You pulled most of that weight yourself, Mr. Harper," the Mayor returned, accepting the handshake. "But if you really want to thank me, come back home ready to tackle the Pro Circuit, and we'll call it a start."

It was Mike's turn to let out a short laugh as their hands parted, and he finally stepped past Mr. Copperson before stopping a short distance out to face everyone again.

"See you all soon," he chose as his last words of goodbye to them.

"Good luck to ya!" Bulbous cheered back to him, while Mr. Copperson waved a hand in farewell. As for Violet, all she could do was put on one last false smile as she nodded to him, before watching as he turned his back to her again, before disappearing from her view in the crowd of other travelers in the terminal.


Another hour later, Violet was dropped off outside County Dame's local theatre, where she was to rehearse for her graduation ceremony the following day. She couldn't help but feel plagued with a mixture of resentment and regret—resentment towards Mike, for his failure to see her obvious change in behavior towards him after opening up the night before; and regret for failing to bring her unsubstantiated frustration up to him like she should have.

As she passed through the atrium into the spacious velvet and gold auditorium, she tried to find solace in the idea that Danny and Josiah could help take her mind off the last eight hours' events. She would've preferred to talk with Marina, given her male friends just never provided the kind of comfort that her best friend could. However, she wasn't available given she was a grade below them and had no part to take in the graduation ceremony.

She settled herself down in one of the seats furthest from the stage, her head on a swivel as she looked for either Danny or Josiah in the crowd of students further down or still entering the auditorium. But she quickly found herself palming her face when realization hit her: Danny and Josiah were partaking in the traditional senior ditch-day that occurred every graduation rehearsal. Skipping out on the tedious boredom that was putting up with Mr. Carnell figuring how to seat everyone alphabetically, before stealing away the thrill that should have come with getting to cross the stage in recognition of their academic success by making them mime it out fifty times over the span of five hours.

Of course, she'd let herself become so wrapped up by her turmoil that she'd forgotten to follow her friends' examples. And if she tried to leave now, she would likely get caught by Mr. Carnell and be threatened with losing the privilege to cross the stage at all. Why that punishment wasn't enforced for those who ditched the rehearsal in the first place was beyond her comprehension.

She sighed exasperatedly as her arms crossed, regressing into her mind to shut out the world around her so she could mope in solitude. So much so, that she barely paid any mind when there was suddenly another body sitting in the seat next to hers, letting out a satisfactory sigh as they did so.

"Wow, these seats are a lot comfier than I expected them to be." The voice of the newcomer was a male's; bright and enthusiastic, like Danny's, but more controlled.

"Mhm," Violet mumbled, using her tone to make it clear she was not in any mood to conversate.

But the male didn't take the hint: "And the architecture in this place is beautiful. I can't imagine what Dexterity High must pay to have all their graduations here."

"Yep," Violet answered, her tone a bit sharper this time as her annoyance grew.

A few moments passed in silence. Violet felt herself begin to simmer down. Whoever was sat next to her seemed to have finally taken the hint that she wanted to be left alone. But then—

"Hey, where are you?"

At this odd phrase, Violet could only raise an eyebrow before finally turning to meet the face of the young man who'd sat beside her: she recognized him as one of her classmates, though she couldn't place his name. His hair was a light brown color, shaved down along the left side of his head, while mid-length hair was swept off to the right, and his thin face bore dark-green eyes. He was dressed in beige, long-sleeved shirt with opened buttons down the top of the front, and a silver watch adorned his right wrist. His bottom half was clad in jeans, as well as blue and black sneakers. At full height, he was probably 5'10".

"Excuse me?" she asked the thin boy with confusion.

"Where are you?" he repeated himself simply. "I mean, obviously, you're here, but your eyes look like they're a million miles away."

The puzzlement on Violet's face shifted to weird uncertainty. "That's not any of your business."

He seemed to shrink away at this rejection. "Fair enough," he gave in with a hand raised defensively. "It's just, if something's bothering you, I thought maybe you'd want to talk about it?"

Violet's expression softened, though she didn't loosen her objective stare on him. "Look, no offense," she said, "but I don't really know you, and I honestly just want to be left alone right now."

The boy nodded shortly. "Okay, then," he said, turning his head away from Violet. "I only asked 'cause, well, my grandpa always used to say that talking your problems out with someone was the first step to finding any relief from them. So, just thought I'd offer."

Though she didn't move at first, Violet's confusion returned to swarm her mind as she took her classmate's words in, before glancing to him again. This time, his eyes weren't visible to her anymore: he had gone back to admiring the rest of the intricately sculpted theatre.

She couldn't help but narrow her eyes curiously. She'd never really paid much attention to anyone else in her classes aside from Mike and Danny, as well as Josiah and his cronies back in the day. So the fact that this random guy was offering himself up to talk to her about her problems perplexed her.

Then again... she really was desperate for any form of comfort that could help her cope with everything that had transpired within the last eight hours. Sure, it was odd that the help was coming from this arbitrary stranger, but in that moment, it was starting to not matter so much where it came from anymore. All she knew was she wanted to feel better than she did.

"Okay, fine," she said, earning the boy's attention back, but not turning to face him as she rambled off: "My boyfriend just set off to travel halfway across the world this morning, after having told me last night that there's another girl in his life that he seems to really care about. And I can't tell if he really was only 'just friends' with her, or if there's something else between them even though he's said he's only ever loved me. And I really wanted to ask him more about her to find out exactly what she is to him, but I didn't want to put the idea that I doubted his loyalty into his mind just before he left to start training for what can be a lifelong career for him. So now I'm stuck here for this stupid ceremony rehearsal, with my relationship in potential disarray, none of my other friends around, and not knowing whether I should be more mad at him or myself, and not a damn thing I can do about any of it!"

Violet took in a long breath after all that, before exhaling as she finally brought herself to look to the boy, expecting either to see a ridiculing smirk or a dismissive frown at her quandary. But contrary to her expectations, the boy had held his gaze on her steadily, his expression remaining nonjudgmental throughout her steadily-heightening monologue; as though he'd taken each word of hers in meticulously.

He looked away for a moment, nodding as he put the situation together in his mind. "All right, all right..." he said, turning back to face Violet. "So, let me ask you: how do you feel now?"

Violet's eyebrows shot up, her expression briefly turning to one of gross offense at the boy's question. After all she'd just told him, he seemingly ignored it all just to ask that?

But then, as she gave herself a moment to ponder, she found herself ultimately surprised when she realized what her answer for him was:

"I feel... better, actually," she said with a sense of awe, her expression shifting to match her tone. "Like, some sort of weight's been taken off my shoulders."

"See?" the boy said with a smile. "Talking helps."

At this point, Violet couldn't help but finally offer the boy a grateful smile. He may not have provided any solutions to her dilemma, but she couldn't deny that opening up to him had somehow managed to fulfill her need for a mild sense of comfort and relief.

"Okay, okay, eyes facing forwards please."

She and the boy's attentions were suddenly taken by the sound of Mr. Carnell's voice at the front of the theatre, where he stood with a clipboard in his hand and an expression that looked like it was missing three shots of espresso. "I don't want to be here any more than you do, believe me. So please just cooperate so we can get this over with quick," he said, not even trying to hide his unenthusiasm before flipping through a number of the papers on his board. "All right, starting the lineup, we have Miss Violet Alysum; come take your seat please."

At the teacher's direction, Violet stood herself up as she said, "guess I gotta go."

She passed by the boy to enter the theatre's side walkways, but stopped abruptly to turn back to him, realizing there was one detail she had completely forgotten to account for: "I'm sorry, I completely forgot what your name was?"

The boy smiled, as though the admission was more humorous than offensive to him. "It's Duncan," he said with a short wave of his hand. "Reinhardt."

"Right," Violet said with a nod. "Well, thank you, Duncan."

With that, she continued her way down to the front of the theater to take her assigned seat, unaware of how her mouth was unable to help smiling wholeheartedly for the first time in weeks.


Eleven and a half hours passed before Mike finally stepped off from his airplane, taking his first steps onto Japanese soil as he entered the Nishihama airport terminal.

Despite the change in the crowd to mostly-oriental faces, the design and operational aspects of the facility appeared to be more or less the same as what he'd seen in Crest City's airport. Not that he'd been expecting any major differences between American and Japanese airports, but it was an interesting observation to him nonetheless.

Mike let out a long yawn as he walked out from baggage retrieval, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder once more as he pulled his thoughts together. He'd slept through the latter half of the flight before touching down, leaving him to groggily figure out what his next move was.

Oh, right. My instructions from Mr. Copperson. Duh.

He reached for his jacket pocket, pulling out the envelope the Mayor had told him to hold off from opening until this moment. He tore across the envelope's top, and reached in only to extract a small piece of paper, with one sentence printed upon it:

"Come to Aokigahara."

Mike hesitated for a moment, blinking once. A single sentence. Telling him to come to a place that had no familiarity to him.

"Aokigahara...?" he read aloud, as though hearing the word would help define its meaning to him. He'd been expecting some sort of detailed description or list of steps for what to do when he entered the airport terminal. Perhaps to find someone or look for some sort of landmark. Instead, he got one measly sentence with barely enough description to qualify as helpful.

He growled under his breath, trying to maintain his composure. The good news, at least, was that he wasn't completely helpless: there were numerous other people surrounding him. Surely someone among them knew about this place he was supposed to go.

He first paced over to a suited man with glasses. "Excuse me," he said, earning a glance from the man. "Can you tell me where I can find a place called 'Aokigahara'?"

But instead of any form of explanation, the man's expression turned to one of absolute disgust, before he walked away from Mike, leaving him dumbstruck.

Well, that was rude, Mike figured to himself. Thought people were supposed to be real polite around here.

He then made his way over to a younger-looking woman dressed more casually. "Hey, excuse me?" he asked. "I'm looking for 'Aokigahara'?"

This time, the woman's eyes widened with what looked like pure horror before hurrying away, leaving him even more confused than before.

"Oh, c'mon..." he said, rolling his eyes at his luck. What about him was putting all these people off?

He pulled his phone out from his pocket, checking his reflection for something on his face. Nothing. He smelled his armpits. A bit musky, but otherwise respectable.

This was ridiculous. "Excuse me?" he began calling aloud to no one as he weaved through the sea of people in the terminal. "Can anyone help me get to 'Aokigahara'? Someone? Please?!"

But he received no friendly responses; instead, only continuing to garner similarly terrorized and grotesque looks scattered across the faces of the foreign crowd.

What the hell's going on here...?!


Even an hour later, he was unable to find anyone willing to answer his inquiry throughout the airport terminal. Even the agents at the checkpoint gates and the currency exchangers had avoided his eyes, which did not aid his opinion of the populace.

With his options diminished, he took his leave from the airport and began making his way down the city sidewalks of Nishihama. Though the streets were busy and the morning sun was a bit strong for his tired eyes, his stroll down the wide avenues was enjoyable. The many skyscrapers bearing over the clean parks reminded him somewhat of County Dame, if not a bit more bedazzling. He especially took a liking to the many fountain attractions scattered across the area, most notably the one at the center of a large, open plaza ahead of him that dwarfed the ones around it.

As he strolled along this area, his mind scrambled to figure out a way to locate this "Aokigahara" place. He couldn't help but think of how insane this Master Duelist he was seeking out had to have been to leave him with the most vague instruction ever while he was stranded in a foreign country, full of people who either couldn't understand him, or perhaps thought he was some racially insensitive internet personality—

THUMP!

His train of thought was interrupted when his body suddenly collided with another, resulting in both of them losing their balance before toppling to the paved ground with alarmed yelps.

"Argh... sorry, I'm sorry!" Mike quickly said as he gathered himself, looking to who he'd just taken down with him: it was a young man with black hair spiked down to his shoulders, red highlights running through it. His black t-shirt was emblazoned with a wolf, beneath which were the words "Man with a Mission." His bottom half was adorned in jeans and a pair of dark sneakers. He looked seventeen years of age, standing at 5'11".


"Sorry, are you okay?" the young man asked, looking to the blonde foreigner he'd accidentally walked into.

But when he looked to him, all he got in response was a confused stare, as though he'd been spoken to in an alien language.

"Ah, you can't understand me, can you?" he realized with a lopsided grin.

He and the foreigner picked themselves up, returning to their full heights before the black and red-haired teen heard a shrill voice from behind him: "Yukaro, are you seriously incapable of getting me juice without crashing into someone?"

He turned to see three other teens—his friends—approaching him. Leading the group was the girl that had just scolded him: she was clad in a plain, white t-shirt and denim shorts, and old-looking sneakers. Her crimson hair flowed past her shoulders, while blonde bangs hung at the front of her head. Her ice-blue eyes were burning holes through the teen she'd just chastised. She stood around 5'8".

The second teen was the only other male of the group, standing distinctly taller at 6'2". His attire consisted of a tight red tank top, with white shorts and straw sandals. His figure was moderately built, with short blue hair that spiked up, and magenta eyes.

The third member of the group was a skinny girl, who shared the tall boy's magenta eyes and blue hair; the only difference being her hair reached down her back. She was dressed in a dusted blouse, with a blue, knee-length skirt, and regular white sandals. Thin-rimmed glasses rested on her face, and atop her head was a cat-eared headband that matched her hair. She was the shortest of the group, standing at 5'6".

The first teenager looked to the girl that had scolded him in protest. "Well, if you're gonna be like that, maybe you should just get your own juice!"

This elicited a glare from the redheaded girl, causing him to smile sheepishly. "Kidding, I'm kidding!" he insisted.

As the redhead rolled her eyes, the taller youth spared a glance to the blonde that his friend had collided with. "Who's the white dude?"

The first teen spared a glance to the foreigner. "Don't know, he doesn't seem to know a word of Japanese," he explained.

"Here, let me try," the shorter girl with glasses offered, before walking up to the puzzled-looking blonde.


"Hi there, my name's Kaneko," she spoke in perfect English to Mike. "What's yours?"

If it was possible, the bewilderment on Mike's face increased in magnitude. He'd spent the last thirty seconds listening to the young man he'd bumped into talk to his friends in Japanese, and now one of them had just up and approached him to reveal she seemed perfectly fluent in English.

"Uh... I'm Mike," he finally answered with a slow wave of his hand. "Good to meet you."

"It's good to meet you too, Maiku," the girl named Kaneko replied politely.


"Whoa, I don't think I've ever heard your sister's English before..." the first teen leaned over to say to his tall best friend.

"Yeah, she topped that class," the latter answered. "While I can barely utter a word of the junk."


Kaneko now began looking to each of her friends in turn as she introduced them: "This is my brother, Daitaro," she said as she indicated the taller boy. "And this is Kimiko—" She indicated the stern-faced redhead. "—and the one you bumped into is Matsuda."


"Hold it, Ikeda," the girl named Kimiko piped up, her tone noticeably more serious. "What're you doing, just giving our names out to this stranger?"

"Yeah Sis, I mean, look at him!" the tall one named Daitaro agreed. "He looks like that asshole, Brock! What if he's one of them?"

"Daitaro, don't be racist. Not all Americans are assholes," Kaneko said assuredly. "Besides, he doesn't seem like a bad guy. He just bumped into Matsuda by accident."

She then passed a quick glance over to her latter-named friend. "Which he did apologize for, by the way."

"Did he...?" said Matsuda, to which Kaneko nodded before he turned to face the blonde named Mike.

As he looked to the stranger he'd run into, he could tell that Kaneko seemed to be right. There was no malicious intent in his eyes; only an overwhelming sense of unease from having bumped into someone he didn't know how to express his apologies to.

So he put on a broad grin and raised a clenched hand up to offer the stranger a fist bump—a sign of goodwill to let him know all was well between them, despite their rough introduction.


At first, Mike merely blinked at the gesture from the teen named Matsuda. But after getting a look at the genuine smile on his face, he realized the intent and grinned back at him before raising his own fist to meet the other teen's in a moment of language-traversing understanding.

At this, a small smile found its way to Kaneko's face. Her brother, Daitaro, only gave a short nod of approval, whilst Kimiko merely snorted, before muttering something in Japanese that was probably another chastising comment about Matsuda.

Mike and Matsuda's fists eventually dropped back to their sides, prompting Kaneko to return her attention to the blonde. "So, just to be sure, you are American, right?"

"That's right," Mike confirmed.

"Well, you're a real long way from home, then," she said. "What're you doing all the way out here in Japan?"

Mike opened his mouth to speak, however he hesitated to allow his words out. He'd already spent the last hour getting shunned every time he asked about where he was supposed to go. And while these teenagers seemed friendly enough, they might've been just as ready to brush him off if he posed his question to them as well. But on the other hand, he would never reach this "Aokigahara" place if he didn't get someone to help him, so he wasn't left with much choice.

He took a quick breath before finally saying it: "I'm looking for a place called 'Aokigahara.' Know where that is?"

Though unsurprising as it was, he was dismayed when an argument suddenly seemed to break out in Japanese between the four teens. Kimiko seemed to have found something amusing about the inquiry, to which Matsuda wound up getting in her face for a heated retort. Daitaro, meanwhile, sounded like he was just babbling on fretfully, while Kaneko seemed like she was trying to quell her friends' hysterics; albeit unsuccessfully.

At this point, Mike could only roll his eyes, having gotten sick of being shut out after every time he'd posed his question. "Okay, I've been getting messed up reactions from everyone I've asked that to since I got here," he said with annoyance. "Just what is the deal?!"

Noticing the American's genuine confusion towards the controversial topic he'd brought up, Kaneko turned her attention away from her bickering friends to look at him with incredulity. "Wait... are you saying you really don't know about that place?"

Mike looked back to her obliviously. "Should I?"

Rather than answer, Kaneko turned to aim a pointed glance at her friends, each of whom fell silent as they read what she was silently communicating: this foreigner really didn't know about the place he was speaking of.

Finally, Kaneko managed to gather her nerve before meeting Mike's gaze again. "See, Maiku... Aokigahara..." she spoke gravely. "Here in Japan... well, we call it the 'suicide forest.'"

Mike stood petrified for a moment as he processed that sentence, his eyes slowly widening with realization. "The 'suicide forest'?" he repeated, stammering. "A-are you saying that people... people go there to—?"

"Kill themselves. Yes."

Mike's head began to spin as he breathed out hard, his mind finally filling the gaps of confusion everyone's earlier attitude towards him had brought. This had to be why he was instructed to open the envelope after he'd touched down in Japan: probably part of some test to see if he would be able to reach the place despite the locals' reluctance to help him reach such a place...

Kaneko spoke up again: "If you don't mind my asking... what exactly are you going there for?"

Mike took a moment before locking eyes with her again. "I'm supposed to be meeting someone," he explained. "That's where they said I could find them."

Her eyebrows rose at this. "Of all places..." she said tentatively, "why there?"

Mike shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

Kaneko fell quiet for a moment, staring at Mike as though she were trying to analyze whether he was telling the truth. Before long, she turned back to her friends, each of whom met her with uneasy expressions.


"He says he's going to meet someone there," she explained to them.

Matsuda's eyebrows rose with surprise. "Odd spot for a meet," he said. "But how do we know he's not really going there to kill himself?"

"I don't think a foreigner who was serious about going there for that would be blindly asking for directions," Kaneko reasoned.

Seeing her point, Matsuda nodded before glancing concernedly back to the blonde. The stranger's manner hadn't set off any red flags that indicated him as someone who desperately needed help. More just a confused tourist ill-prepared for the journey he'd set out on.

"All right, then," he said as he turned back to his friends. "I say we help him get there."

Kimiko shrugged nonchalantly. "If it gets the idiot out of our hair sooner, we might as well," she concurred. "No skin off our backs."

"Why is everyone an idiot to you?" Daitaro questioned the ice queen of their group.

"Because everyone is, you moronic ape," she snapped back at him, to which he winced at the verbal barb.

Kaneko rolled her eyes, before looking to Matsuda. "Can you call a taxi for him?"

"I'm on it," Matsuda affirmed, before pulling out his phone and pulling away from the group.


Kaneko turned back to face Mike. "Okay, Matsuda's going to call a taxi for you," she told him. "Have them take you to the Fujikyu Railway, and get a ticket to the Kawaguchiko train station. From there, take retro bus number four; that makes stops by the forest's border.

"Oh, and if you have to go into the forest..." Her expression shifted to a more serious one. "Whatever you do, don't stray off the path."

Mike raised a confused eyebrow. "Why's that?"

Before answering, Kaneko took a moment to look to either side of her, as though checking to make sure no one else heard what she said next. "Because rumors say that yūrei haunt the forest," she said, her volume dropping. "Volatile, dangerous spirits that were never properly laid to rest. If there's any weakness in your heart, they'll exploit it to manipulate you... to try and get you to..."

Her voice trailed off as she looked away uncomfortably, but Mike didn't need her to finish that sentence. Instead, she looked back to him with a look of genuine concern. "Just, really try to be careful," she said, almost imploringly. "Okay?"

Though shaken with this new information, Mike kept his expression steeled before nodding in response. "I'll try. Thank you."


- Two Years Ago -

"I actually don't know if I can believe that."

"Hey, I had a hard enough time processing it myself."

Mike and Casey stood leaning against the railing aligning the deck of one of the saloons closer to the edge of Frontier Haven, standing practically shoulder-to-shoulder as they faced the rest of the town, bustling with its usual energy as the townsfolk went about their usual routines. Some were carrying buckets of what looked to be food and water, while others were guiding horses and mules back to their stables after allowing the animals to stretch their legs. All was calm and quiet: a peace that had come with Mike's triumph over Keir that everyone was more than delighted to enjoy.

"I mean, I never believed that he was entirely heartless, but I think that's the first time I've ever heard of him actively approach someone to offer help," Casey mused, pondering how Aeron had helped pick Mike's spirit back up after his loss to Liam three days before. "From what I've seen, everything with him has always been either 'yes, Samael,' or 'understood, Samael,' or something like that."

Mike got a chuckle out of Casey's impression of Aeron's dark, gritty voice. "Yeah, that was my first impression of him too. I never expected anything from him after how he left me to handle killing Keir."

"Well, maybe you've become something of a good influence for him," Casey suggested, looking to Mike with a smirk, which he returned with a raised-eyebrow glance.

"What kind of influence could I have on a guy like that?" he asked.

"The same kind that you've had on everyone else here," was Casey's answer, her tone shifting to sound more impassioned. "You've given everyone in Frontier Haven hope. Including me."

Mike's expression softened at this, while Casey's smile only broadened. For a moment, Mike felt some sort of spark flicker between them, prompting him to abruptly break his gaze away. He didn't know just what kind of feelings were starting to develop between them, but there was one thing he knew definitively: there was still someone back home that he cared for more than anyone, and he would wait for the end of the world if it took that long to be with her.

His eyes returned to sweeping over the path leading to Frontier Haven's boundary, and they suddenly narrowed to slits. "Who is that?"

Casey shifted her gaze over to where Mike's was: walking beneath the overarching "FRONTIER HAVEN" sign was an unfamiliar individual. Though she couldn't make out the finer details of the figure, she could discern enough of them to know that they weren't anyone she knew in town.

The two stepped down from the saloon deck to intercept the approaching stranger. With each step taken between them, the stranger's details became clearer to them: the man's black, mid-length hair hung loosely around his head in tight curls, complementing the five-o'clock shadow that decorated his jaw, and contrasted his familiarly silver eyes. His upper half was clad in a black shirt, atop which was a semi-long, dark-brown jacket that screamed "Roman" to Mike and Casey. Dark jeans adorned his legs, while black cowboy boots hid tucked beneath. At full height, the man stood around 5'11".

It wasn't long before the three came to a simultaneous stop, with Mike and Casey standing beside each other facing this new stranger, who kept a few yards away from them as he looked to them with an inquisitive stare, which they returned with equal measure.

"Well, this is a surprise," the stranger was the first one to speak. "I didn't expect a welcoming committee."

Mike scoffed at the stranger's comment. "And who are you supposed to be?"

"Seth Harald," the Roman stranger returned. "Son of Jared Harald, the new leader of Saddlebury."

It was Casey's turn to scoff. "Of course your supercilious father would be the one to take Keir's place," she said with disdain.

"He was always next in the line of succession," said Seth. "Though it might interest you to know that my father has no intention of running Saddlebury as Keir did. Which is actually why I'm here."

Mike raised a curious eyebrow as Seth explained, raising an inviting hand: "My father has a proposition for Samael. At high noon tomorrow, he would like to meet him in Saddlebury to discuss new terms regarding our two towns' relationship with each other. He's looking to reach a resolution where we can coexist to each other's benefit, without bloodshed."

"Like hell," said Casey. "Your dad's always thrived on the suffering of this town."

"Besides, this sounds more like some sort of trap you're trying to lure Samael into," Mike added. "Why should we trust anything you say?"

Seth chuckled as his arm lowered back to his side. "My father expected you to have such suspicions," he said, "which is why he offered to let Samael send any number of emissaries to meet on his behalf instead."

Mike's head turned cautiously at this information, unsure of how to respond this time. Being the lesser-knowing between the two, he looked to examine Casey's expression: there was clear distrust on her face, though there was a glint in her eyes that told him she wanted to believe Seth's words about potential peace between Frontier Haven and Saddlebury.

"What if we decline to meet at all?" she asked. "And have you tell your dad where he can stick his offer?"

"Well, that would be disappointing," Seth said, a sadistic smirk forming across his lips. "My father happens to know that your town has something of a problem with its upkeep of resources. He was thinking of negotiating a sort of trade between our towns so you could live a bit more... comfortably."

Mike's eyes widened at these words. To him, everyone in Frontier Haven had always seemed content with how their food, water, and livestock was handled, with no longing for any form of extra luxury. But when he glanced to Casey, the surprisingly perturbed expression on her face told him she knew exactly the crisis Seth was referencing, and it was probably worse than Mike could know.

"In any case, I've said my piece."

Mike and Casey's eyebrows arched as Seth turned his back to them. "We'll be expecting someone's arrival around high noon tomorrow," he repeated. "I hope, for your town's sake, that Samael makes the right choice."

With that, Seth took his leave, walking beneath the overarching sign back into the desert wilderness. As he went, Mike and Casey stood in silence for a moment before exchanging hardened glances, nodding in unison.

Swiveling on their heels, they began making their way towards Samael's cabin to inform him of what had just occurred. Unbeknownst to them, however, the shadow of a figure stood against the side of one of Frontier Haven's buildings, having observed the entirety of their exchange with Seth...


- Present Day -

Mike spent the next three hours following Kaneko's direction, taking the Fujikyu Railway to the Kawaguchiko train station, and then boarding the number four retro bus shortly thereafter.

As the near-empty bus rolled steadily down a road surrounded by green woods, he found himself growing reluctant to reach this Aokigahara forest. Nothing about how this trip had unfolded thus far had been normal: from the less-than-helpful "instructions," to needing to rely on a bunch of Japanese teenagers to point him in the right direction. And now, he was hurdling himself towards a place that was renowned for being a regular suicide spot, haunted with hostile spirits called yūrei?

He had to wonder whether this Master Duelist he was going to train under was right in the head for putting him on such a wild goose chase. Much less why he was bothering to continue seeking this place out with what he knew now. But as the thought crossed his mind, Mike felt the bus starting to slow down, until it pulled over beside a space aligning one side of the surrounding woods, before the driver said something in Japanese that was likely the equivalent of "last stop, everybody out."

Once more, Mike slung his duffel bag over his shoulder before stepping off the bus into a small clearing of what looked like white sand, which arched to converge at a wide opening that was the forest's entrance. To the left of it was a large, wooden sign decorated with Japanese Kanji—words to try and deter those contemplating the idea of taking their own lives. To the right, a large map was imprinted upon another wooden sign, detailing the trail's paths and other markings that Mike couldn't discern.

He suddenly turned to look back at the bus, only to watch as its engines roared back to life before speeding off, as though it were unable to get away from the area fast enough. Mike's eyes flickered before he turned to face the entrance to the forest again, only now noticing the lack of anybody to meet him here. He figured that meant only one thing: he would have to enter the forest on his own.

No point in delaying, then, he figured to himself, before taking his first steps into Aokigahara.


An air of disquiet hung in the air as Mike walked the winding paths. Everywhere he looked, he was surrounded by dense thickets of large, misshapen trees, as well as scattered patches of greenery occupying spaces in the dirt. Some stretches of the path were bordered with wooden posts, upon which there were either colorful ribbons tied around them, or thin wires that stretched from one to the next, helping to outline the vague walkway. Every now and again, he spotted what looked like abandoned campsites in the distance, left either by those who would never return, or merely had yet to. The varying conditions of each site gave him a pretty good idea which category of camper they belonged to.

As he walked on, despite knowing exactly how much time was passing thanks to his watch, he felt as though it had come to a standstill. Or, perhaps every step he took was allowing another eon to pass. No matter how fixed his gaze was to the path before him, he kept finding himself questioning whether he was still on it or not. The feeling of disorientation unnerved him, so much so that he even felt his body trembling only slightly.

What was worse, though, was the constant feeling he had of eyes upon him, despite there seeming to be no other noticeable living beings around. He thought back to Kaneko's words of warning about the yūrei—the spirits of those that failed to find peace in death. He'd always held a belief in the idea of spirits and hauntings, ever since the "accident" that had occurred when he was six. It had been a coping mechanism for him then, so that he could hold onto the idea that, despite being gone, perhaps there was a chance that his parents still existed with him on this earth after all—

"Son."

Mike froze in his tracks, his heart beginning to race rapidly as he spun around, frantic. No sign of anyone.

And yet, that voice—no, it had been two voices—so vivid, so real-sounding... but how could it be?

"If there's any weakness in your heart, they'll try to use it to manipulate you."

Mike closed his eyes, steadying his breath as he remembered Kaneko's words. His parents were not here. It was the yūrei, trying to lure him in so they could turn him into one of them. Or perhaps an illusion of his own mind, wrought by his increasing paranoia and weariness.

He clenched his fists, exhaled hard, and pressed on.


The minutes eventually turned into hours as Mike questioned just what he was supposed to be looking for.

No matter how much farther he walked, everything he saw looked like every other part of the forest he'd seen before, and he was starting to lose daylight. If he didn't find this Master Duelist soon, he would end up having to fend for himself through the night, which was an idea he did not want to entertain. He had no idea what kind of wildlife could be waiting to prey on him in these woods, much less what sorts of horrors the yūrei could concoct to try and drive him to the brink.

But to his relief, he found his situation starting to look up when he spotted it: a clearing where a windowless, wooden cabin stood, built shabbily but sturdily against the side of a tall, stone cliff. As he slowly entered the clearing, he spotted four chopped tree stubs sitting out front of the cabin, surrounding a large, metal fire pit that contained what looked like fresh ashes from whatever had been burnt the night before.

He approached the cabin, walking up to a door with a modern-looking handle. He tried to open it, only to find it was locked.

Turning to face the fire pit, he paced his way around the four tree stubs, which he realized were seats for around the fire. The ingenuity of the cabin's owner intrigued Mike: it took a real tenacity to commit oneself to living in a forest where people frequently committed suicide, becoming spirits that sought to drag others to the same fate.

Then—out of nowhere—the edge of a cold, steel blade suddenly pressed gently against the side of his neck, bringing him to a halt.

"You have five seconds," he heard a man's coarse voice say behind him, "to either tell me who you are, and how you found this place; or to run, and not look back."

Mike maintained his composure, his instincts from experiencing death threats from the last two years keeping him collected. "My name is Mike Harper," he said steadily, "and I came here looking for a 'Master Duelist.'"

There was a brief silence, before Mike heard the stranger behind him grunt amusedly before retracting his blade from his neck. "Well, it looks like you've found him."

Mike's eyes widened at this, before turning to face the stranger that had threatened him: to his surprise, the man's face bore no Asian features at all. He was dark-skinned, with short, black hair spotted with gray, and a matching, quarter inch-thick beard grown squarely around his lips. He was dressed in a dark-gray jacket, with black cargo pants, and matching gloves and hiking boots. He watched as the man replaced the blade he'd pulled on him—a foot-long machete—in its sheath hanging from his belt. An oversized backpack clung around his shoulders. He guessed the man to be in either his late-forties or fifties, and at full height, he stood at 6'2".

"You have my apologies," the man said, pacing over to one of the stub seats around the fire pit. "I'm used to being intruded upon by more... unwelcome company."

He placed his large backpack down upon the seat as Mike watched him curiously. He knew he recognized this man's face from somewhere...

"Wait a minute," Mike said, earning the man's attention as surprise spread across his face. "Are... aren't you Ciro Savalas?"

"In the flesh," the man named Ciro confirmed with open arms, before stepping forward to extend a hand to Mike, which he took with wide eyes. "I'm surprised a kid like you has heard of a decade-long-retired Pro like me."

"Well, I've made it a point to know my Pros," was Mike's reply as their hands dropped again.

Ciro chuckled, before turning to walk back to his grounded backpack. "Again, forgive me," he said, unfastening one of the bag's compartments. "I didn't expect you to arrive so soon. I was planning on greeting you at the forest's entrance later tonight."

He reached into the bag, pulling out a bag of potato chips. "Thought I'd have enough time to grocery shop before your arrival," he said, a self-amused smirk on his face. "Bit of a trek back to civilization from here."

Mike's expression slowly shifted from surprised to knowing as Ciro looked back into the bag, reaching in as if to inspect its contents. "You were expecting me to take longer to arrive," he figured, his eyes narrowing. "My getting here really was some sort of test, wasn't it?"

Ciro dropped the chips back in the bag, before looking back to Mike once more. "One you passed with flying colors, kid," he commended. "The majority of the Japanese people are terrified of this place. I figured it'd take you a lot longer to find someone willing to help you get here."

"But why?" Mike questioned. "What was the point of leaving me with a single-sentence instruction to go on, and forcing me to wait until I got here to read it?"

"Because if you knew where you were going, and were smart enough to look it up before you left," he said, a certain hardness creeping into his voice as he continued examining his backpack's contents, "you never would've come. Just like every other student I've offered to teach."

Mike cocked his head at this answer. "Are you saying you've never had a student before?"

Ciro abruptly froze after zipping the compartment closed again, as though the question had disturbed something in him. "Well, I had one... many years ago," he admitted, before falling silent for a moment.

Mike remained quiet as well, watching Ciro cautiously before the latter finally stood straight again. "But he's not important right now; you are," he said, pointing to Mike as his smirk returned. "So, since we're fortunate enough to still have some daylight, what would you say to a trial duel?"

Mike cocked his head at the suggestion. "What, you mean right now?"

"Why not?" Ciro questioned back. "I have to assess your skill, after all. How am I supposed to know what to teach you if I don't know where you're at?"

Mike let out a short chuckle. "Fair enough," he said, before reaching to unzip his duffel bag, retrieving his duel disk and arming himself with it before dropping the bag to the ground. "Well, if that's what you wanna do, I'm ready whenever you are."

Ciro stood in silence for a moment as he looked at Mike, his smirk broadening. "Your ambition is admirable, kid," he said. "But to be honest, I was thinking more in, like, fifteen minutes."

Mike raised a confused eyebrow as Ciro glanced again to his bag momentarily. "It's just, I'd like to unload all my groceries first," he said, his smile turning somewhat sheepish.

At this point, all Mike could do was blink. "Oh... I mean, yeah, sure." He stumbled over his words, trying to piece his response together through the surprising humorousness that his interaction with this former Pro duelist was bringing him, before stepping forward. "In that case, would you mind if I lent you a hand, then?"

Ciro looked to Mike as his smirk broadened even more. "I'd love one."


ED2: "Leave Out All The Rest" by Linkin Park


Author's Notes

Oof. Slice-o-life chapters are a frickin' pain to write. Duels fill up my pages a lot easier. The good news is, if luck holds, this will be the LAST entirely-slice-o-life chapter in this season, so hopefully y'all can forgive me for the length of this entry. Although, I must say, I'm quite proud of how well my writing turned out this time around.

So, a few things to discuss: first, you might've noticed a certain quartet of friends made a cameo in today's entry: the main cast of Master Of Anime224's "Yu-Gi-Oh! Reality's Curtain!" This has been something I've wanted to do ever since reading his story and getting close with the guy, given MOD was going to end up in Japan eventually, and I'm grateful for how all-for-it he was. Dude was gracious enough to give me all the direction I needed so that I portrayed his characters justly. I also have this special message from him:

"I'm currently hard at work developing an original epic which I plan to have published come hell or high water, but that doesn't negate the love I have for RC, MOD, or the shared universe in which both stories reside. RC will continue, and rest assured, this crossover is only the beginning. Watch this space.
P.S. - This had no relation to our super special awesome secret project."

Right, to clarify, this WAS NOT our super-special-awesome project. That's still a work in progress. That aside, I wanna extend my wholehearted thanks to him for helping to make this happen, and of course, gotta credit him for the beta work.

Second... as most of you know, I've been planning this story out for a LONG time. And I've planned to implement the infamous suicide forest, Aokigahara, for as long. So you can imagine how distraught I was when the whole Logan Paul fiasco erupted at the height of this year (anybody catch my jab at him in this chapter?). His conduct was disgusting and unacceptable, and it even had me reconsidering my implementation of the landmark in this story, given the backlash that followed.

But I decided to move forward with it because, for one thing: I'm not a disrespectful asshat. And for another: my resolve was already steeled after the suicide of one of my favorite artists last year, Linkin Park vocalist Chester Bennington. So I just want to take a moment and say that I have every intention of implementing Aokigahara into this work of fiction with as much respect as I can. It's also why I chose the ending theme I did for this half of the season—one of my personal favorites that's pulled me through some of the darkest hours of my life. I dedicate that theme to Chester, and to everyone else who've lost their lives to suicide, and to all of us who also fight against that darkness every day.

Okay... on a lighter note, here's today's nice and simple CQ: What has been your favorite DUEL in MOD so far, and why?

As always, thank you all for reading. See you next chapter, and stay awesome.


REVISED ON: 7/15/2020