Chapter 14: The Fourth Duel
Joey took his place on the field confidently, as only Joey Wheeler could—feet apart, chest forward, teeth bared to the world. He cut his cards confidently, as only Joey Wheeler could—feeling the power in each card even as he couldn't see it because he understood that life's biggest powers could never be seen.
His friends shouted encouragement from the viewing platform. His sister cheered for him, and he smiled because he hadn't done anything to cheer for yet, but that was just how great Serenity was. He never deserved her. He was grateful for her every day.
And his opponent—the mysterious, unseen-'til-now, white-costumed woman with jewelry to match Marik's—watched him evenly as she cut her own cards.
They switched decks. Did one shuffle. Returned them. And then they were supposed to shake hands.
Joey stuck his hand out.
The woman's eyes flickered to it, then back to his face. She turned and took the position with her back to the wind.
Joey's hand twitched. He rubbed his palm on his jeans, touched the Kit Kat in his pocket for good luck, and took his place on the other side of the field.
Fuguta declared the start of the match, and Joey decided to make a splash by claiming the opening turn. But as he drew a new card, his grip loosened on the ones already in his hand, and a crooked gust of wind lifted two out of his fingers, whirling them toward the railing.
Joey yelped. He heard gasps from the spectator platform—and a sharp laugh that had to be Rich-boy's—as he dove after the rogue cards, managing to smash them against his chest with his free arm before they flew into space.
Always use one hand to hold cards and the other to draw and play. He knew that. Yuugi'd taught him that at least a hundred times. It was the only smart way. Smart wasn't Joey's forte, especially under stress, though his ears burned to admit it. But he wouldn't forget again.
"Good save!" Serenity called out.
His ears burned hotter. He took his place again, arranged his cards properly, and summoned Alligator's Sword [1500/1200] in attack mode.
"I see you've finally learned vertical from horizontal," Kaiba called out. "Congrats on catching up to the six-year-olds."
Joey scowled at the reference to how he'd mixed up attack- and defense-mode summoning when dueling Rich-boy.
"Alright," he declared to his opponent, "your move, lady. And how about you start with your name."
"Ishizu Ishtar," she said blankly, drawing a card.
She held cards in her Duel Disk hand, of course, using her other one to draw. Joey grimaced.
"Ishtar." His eyes darted to Marik, who was leaning against the railing and watching the duel with crazy eyes. Joey nodded at him. "Like that freak?"
"My brother." Empty voice again. She obviously cared about Marik as much as Marik cared about Odion. And here Joey'd thought his family had problems.
"Gravekeeper's Heretic [1800/1500] in attack mode. I attack."
Or maybe she was just that monotone about everything.
Her white-haired heretic raised a staff that glowed blue and gold. Alligator's Sword snarled past rows of jagged teeth, then burst apart. Joey's lifepoints dropped to 3700.
"Let me tell you something, Mr. Wheeler." Ishizu slid two facedown cards into play. Her face was like a creepy, emotionless mask, something melted into plastic that couldn't change if it wanted to. "You will lose this match. There is no probability in it; the future is set in stone and shown to me by my Millennium Necklace."
Joey blinked. He shook his head and blinked again for good measure.
"I missed the punchline," he said.
"I end my turn," she said.
The Millennium Items. Joey couldn't say he was a fan, but he also wasn't about to be scared off. He drew a card.
"You've drawn the magic card Scapegoat," she said.
She was right. Joey narrowed his eyes. "Okay, how 'bout a new shtick? Maybe you ain't heard, but I've had that mind-readin' stuff tried on me a few times, and I beat 'em all."
Well, Yuugi and the pharaoh had been the ones to beat Pegasus. But still. Joey had beaten Esper Roba.
She was less than deterred. "At the end of this turn, you'll be down to 2700 lifepoints."
"Don't let her shake you, Joey!" Tristan called out. Anzu and Serenity chorused agreement.
"Take a look at my Dark Blade [1800/1500]!" Joey said. He summoned the warrior in attack mode, and the cloaked knight bellowed as he appeared on the field. Joey slid two cards into his magic-and-trap slots, activating one immediately. "And once I equip him with Legendary Sword, his attack goes up to 2100. Now let's see who's losin' lifepoints!"
A gleaming broadsword replaced Dark Blade's short swords, and Joey ordered the knight to attack.
Ishizu never flinched. "Activate continuous trap: Spell Barrier."
The broadsword shattered, as did Joey's facedown spell card. He hissed as his lifepoints dropped to 2700.
"As long as my trap is active," Ishizu said, "any spell cards on your side of the field are negated, and you take 500 points of damage for each one."
Joey stared at his lifepoint counter. Despite the cold, a few drops of sweat formed beneath his bangs.
"Shall I predict the rest of your future?" Ishizu rubbed at a fingernail, not even looking at him now. "You will continue to lose lifepoints until, five turns from now, your counter falls to zero. I'm sure I don't need to explain to you what that means."
And Joey faced that announcement as only Joey Wheeler could do—by laughing.
She looked up. "Something about your loss amusing, Mr. Wheeler?"
Joey grinned. "I was just thinkin' maybe you can see the future. If so, that would be a pretty impossible thing to beat. Should I tell you what that means?"
"You'll surrender now?"
"Nah, it means you're the biggest potato I ever faced. An' I'm ready to bake."
Serenity cheered, and Joey ended his turn.
The Millennium Necklace, though light in physical weight, was a heavy emotional burden. Ishizu could still remember her twelfth birthday when she'd tied it to her throat and felt it sink like an anchor in her soul.
"Now you are omniscient," her father had said in his low, guttural voice. "Now you are above self, above passions, above the entrapments of humanity. Your life belongs to our nameless pharaoh and the tombkeepers' line."
The necklace had opened her vision, and her mind had crossed a threshold to brilliance. She saw the world in excruciating detail, felt beneath her feet the softness of grass and the sharpness of ice caps she would never behold with her physical eyes. She saw the past—watched the pyramids rise from the sweat of slaves and the pantheons fall under a thousand years of rain. Once she was brave enough, she saw the future—watched the rise of the nameless pharaoh in an unknown city and the fall of the modern world in a sea of fire. Time fell away into meaninglessness, for everything before her was at once. Everything was eternal: happening did, happening will, happening is. She stepped as a phantom between the ages while graying men searched decades and died for gifts half as powerful as hers.
And she obeyed her father; she focused on the pharaoh, on her duty. She sat as a watcher in a bird's nest, eyes trained on a far-off happening while the ship beneath her sank and her family fell to the sharks. She did not foresee her father's death at the hands of her own brother. She saw the body first with her physical eyes, and only then did she look with eyes of shadow. Then she saw it all, but it was too late. Time was not, as she had foolishly believed, eternal. In truth, moments were fleeting, with small windows of action that passed like the gaps between railcars on speeding trains. She could observe forever, but the right to act was given only once.
Now all her hope hung suspended on one window. Marik's final hope and her own. The darkness had whispered to her that she must face her brother in a shadow game during the tournament. If she did not act, Marik would destroy the pharaoh and she would fail in her duty both as tombkeeper and as sister.
And her failure would remain vivid in her eyes long after the moment passed, thanks to the gift and curse of her millennium sight.
"You say my lifepoints are droppin'," her opponent said from across the field, "but yours ain't farin' any better."
After Mr. Wheeler had struggled for several turns to overcome her spell-blocking trap card, he'd finally managed to summon a monster named Jinzo [2400/1500]. The monster's special ability negated any and all traps on her side of the field, and her opponent had been sure to declare how the field advantage had shifted in his favor. Ishizu was far from ruffled, of course, since all was proceeding in the only way it could. So, in line with her own destiny, she'd sacrificed 3000 lifepoints in order to give her Hollow Gravekeeper the same in attack, bringing her mere inches from inevitable victory. All she had to do was attack Mr. Wheeler as scheduled; he would do the rest himself.
She destroyed his Jinzo, left his field bare.
He grunted as his life dropped to 500.
But like a naïve fool, he smirked. "Still standin'."
"Celebration is pointless," she said. "I no longer need to fight in this duel; my win is secure."
To prove her point, she used Hollow Gravekeeper's second ability to switch him to defense mode.
Mr. Wheeler's defiant expression faded. His lips compressed into a line.
"Don't underestimate me," he said slowly.
"Next turn, you shall destroy yourself."
"I said"—his eyes narrowed—"don't underestimate me."
Ishizu underestimated no one. Neither did she overestimate them. She simply saw what was truth.
Had she desired, she could have peered with her necklace into the timeline of Joey Wheeler and seen every breath. She could have told him the hours he slept on his first night alive and the hours he would sleep on his last. She could have told him the color of his great-grandfather's eyes and if he would ever bounce his own grandchildren on his knee. She could have recounted to him the names of people in his life that he himself had forgotten.
But she had no interest in the life and doings of Joey Wheeler, a godless nobody with only circumstantial connection to the pharaoh and no consequence to her family. The farthest she looked with the necklace was the moment his lifepoints dropped to zero and, with a defeated expression, he admitted, "I guess you and everybody else knew it, didn't you? Fine. Say you beat Joey Wheeler. Tell everybody he was exactly what he looked like—a loser who didn't know when to quit."
And now that she had done her part, she simply had to wait, counting down the actions to when he would gamble everything on a fatal dice roll and their pointless competition would come to an end, bringing her one step closer to saving Marik.
"I end my turn," she said. "You are free to make your final move."
He clenched his jaw. "We'll see about that."
But Ishizu already had seen.
And the train cars continued to pass.
Even though Mai had chosen to stay with Odion of her own volition, it would have been a tragedy not to support her friends in the remaining matches. So she spoke to a nurse, and the nurse said it would be no difficulty to bring Mai a laptop she could use to watch the broadcasts. It was a shame to be live at the event and watch on a screen, but it was better than missing things altogether.
She sat in a chair pulled up to Odion's bedside, laptop balanced on her knees, and watched Joey's duel begin.
"Your family is not an easy one, monsieur," she said quietly, glancing at Odion. A brother and a sister on board, yet neither one had visited after his collapse. Mai had always wished to have siblings, but perhaps having them was sometimes harder.
Odion gave no response to her statement, of course. Sweat had once again beaded on his face, so Mai lifted the cloth the nurse had given her and gently dabbed his forehead. She'd learned after her first time falling ill at sea that nothing was worse than being sick with no one who cared, so even if she was a stranger, she was better than nothing. Better than loneliness.
She set the cloth aside and touched his hand. Every few seconds, his fingers twitched. Squeezing his hand did nothing to calm the tremors, so she could only hope it would calm his subconscious to know he wasn't alone.
Her eyes returned to the screen. Joey dueled as fiercely as he always had but with a fraction of the errors. Yuugi had told her in Duelist Kingdom that he expected Joey to one day be a better duelist than himself, and Mai couldn't argue with that. He had an unstoppable spirit she'd never seen rivaled by anyone else. In his book, crippling defeats barely counted as scraped knees.
So even as Mai frowned uncomfortably over Ishizu's predictions, as she tried to figure out the trick or secret, Joey shrugged a shoulder, brushed them off like gnats, and dueled a solid game as she was certain only he could.
And with equal parts pain and pride in her heart, Mai admitted silently that if she had to face him in the last round of the finals, she wasn't certain who would win.
"Hey, Serenity, you'll never guess where I'm headed."
It had been the start of the voicemail Joey left her before he boarded the boat to Duelist Kingdom.
"Prize money's enough to pay for your surgery, and I ain't half the duelist Yuug' is, but I'm gonna win it for you. Promise. So just hang in there."
It was rare for Joey to call, even rarer for him to leave a message. Each time he did, their mother always deleted it as soon as Serenity listened. But she left that message alone for three days: the length of the tournament. Even though she pitched a fit about Joey gambling in a tournament, even though she said it wouldn't lead to anything, even though she warned Serenity against false hope, she left it alone.
And three days later, Joey called again to say the surgery was on.
"You've got this, Joey!" Serenity called out as her brother braced himself against an attack. The pain on his face was enough to make her heart skip a beat, but she understood that standing on the court sometimes meant pain—she'd once lost a tooth to a particularly unlucky serve to the mouth.
Tristan grunted. "That attack was almost the end of it. He's gotta put up a better defense."
"Against that opponent, how can he?" Duke shook his head. "You said you believe in supernatural items or whatever, and it sounds crazy to me, but that lady's predicted plenty of things she shouldn't have known. Not just cards but lifepoints and turns."
Serenity stuck her lip out and opened her mouth to protest, but Yuugi spoke first.
"Ishizu's ability is as real as it seems."
Serenity's mouth closed. She didn't believe Joey's opponent could possibly see the future, but if it were so, it would be cheating. No one could be expected to play against her.
But Joey had said it might be true. And he'd been more excited than ever.
Which meant it didn't matter.
With a stubborn frown, Serenity opened her mouth again, ready to declare that Joey could beat even impossible odds.
But she stopped short as Yuugi winked at her and said, "But that doesn't mean Joey can't win."
Serenity smiled. "Exactly."
And the truth was she desperately wanted him to win. Not for her own sake and not just for him to advance in the tournament but because she knew how much it would mean to him to win his first duel with her watching. So she had to believe he could overcome anything, even the impossible.
"Don't underestimate me," Joey warned his opponent.
Serenity wouldn't. He could win this.
He would win this.
Ishizu declared it to be the start of his final turn.
Joey said, "We'll see about that."
Serenity shouted, "I believe in you!"
He flashed her a grin, took a deep breath, and drew a card.
Then his eyes widened.
"It seems you have a fateful decision ahead of you, Mr. Wheeler." His opponent's face was as calm as ever when she spoke, but it made Joey's eyes go even wider.
Serenity's heart rose in her throat. She swallowed it back down.
Joey would win.
"I see it now." Joey snorted. Then he laughed. "I get it—I see what you're doing. I see the trick."
"I assure you, Mr. Wheeler, there is no trick."
"Nah, there's definitely a trick. And now the joke's on you." He tilted his Duel Disk and tapped the lifepoint counter, which was at 500. "Looks like I'm runnin' low. Better fill the tank."
He wagged the card he'd just drawn, then entered it in a slot.
"I play the spell card Fateful Dice," he declared.
Tristan frowned. "'Fateful' was what Ishizu said, wasn't it? Why's he playing the card she predicted?"
"I guess he's calling her bluff." Duke tugged on his earring, shrugged. "It's not a bad strategy. If she does know his cards, calling attention to one might be her way of trying to get him not to play it."
"Be careful, Joey," Anzu whispered. She folded her arms and gripped her elbows.
A glowing blue pixie appeared on Joey's side of the field. She held one large, white die on each palm.
"This is an all-or-nothing play," Joey said, voice and face grim. "If I roll doubles, I go up a thousand lifepoints. Anything else, I lose the same."
Serenity's breath caught in her throat. Tristan looked like he'd swallowed a bee.
"Okay, not the bluff I would have gone with," Duke said.
"Is he nuts?" Tristan hissed. "She says his lifepoints will go to zero this turn, and he plays the card that'll make it happen?"
"Maybe it's like an Oedipus thing?" Serenity suggested weakly.
They blinked at her.
"Like in the play. By trying to avoid the prophecy, Oedipus actually made it happen."
"So instead, Joey's trying to make it happen by making it happen." Duke shook his head. "That still means he'll lose."
"Unless he rolls doubles." Please roll doubles.
"Roll your dice, Mr. Wheeler, and let's be done."
Joey grinned across the field. "Don't be so sure this is the end. Maybe I'm luckier than anyone ever gave me credit for."
"I don't like the odds," Ryou murmured.
Tristan clenched his fists. "Come on, snake eyes."
Serenity had never prayed with her eyes open until that moment. Please, God, let him roll doubles.
The pixie raised her dice. She swept forward; her wings left faint glitter trails in the air. Like hope.
She lifted her hands, tipped her wrists.
The dice released.
Serenity kept her eyes wide open. Please be doubles. She watched the dice tumble like the air had turned to honey, sticking and slowing with every rotation. Please be doubles.
Until finally—
—they landed.
Tears pricked her eyes.
Tristan turned away, biting a fist.
A two and a six.
It was over.
In silence, Joey's lifepoints scrolled to down to zero, and Serenity's heart dropped right alongside.
Joey lowered his arms, fingers slack, defeated.
"Well," he said finally, "I guess you and everybody else knew it, didn't you? Fine." His voice cracked. "Say you beat Joey Wheeler. Tell everybody he was exactly what he looked like—a loser who didn't know when to quit."
Ishizu was already turning away, reaching for her deck. "I have no need to brag over such a paltry victory."
She unsnapped it.
And Joey grinned.
And his pixie snickered.
Serenity stopped breathing. She looked to Yuugi, jaw slack in a silent question.
He smiled. "If Joey had truly lost, the duel would have ended, and all holograms would have disappeared."
Duke gasped. "The pixie."
"Ishizu's monster as well."
"WHAT!" Tristan whirled back to face the field. "Did he—?!"
Joey's lifepoint counter scrolled up to 1500, but Ishizu's was at zero. She stared at her Duel Disk with wide eyes.
"What is this?" she asked, as if a waiter had brought an empty plate instead of her order.
"This is me makin' my own fate," Joey said.
Everything on the field vanished, and the referee raised an arm.
"Ishizu Ishtar has surrendered the match by removing her deck from play. Joey Wheeler wins the fourth match of the semi-finals and advances to the finals!"
"Wait, I didn't—" Ishizu stopped short, staring at her Duel Disk again, then to the deck in her opposite hand.
"He did it." Serenity squealed. "He did it!"
She threw her arms around Duke's neck, and he laughed, lifting her a few inches off the ground in a hug.
"Fateful Dice has a special effect if I use it when I'm below 1000 lifepoints," Joey said, flashing the grin Serenity loved so much. "If I don't roll doubles but my opponent don't call my bluff on the loss, I get lifepoints anyway. But hey, don't beat yourself up, Ishizu. There ain't no way you coulda known what would happen—unless, oh, unless you can see the future. Then I guess you shoulda known."
Yori snorted. "Ishizu hasn't learned a thing since our duel. She doesn't even give the possibilities a thought."
"Maybe she'll learn now," Yuugi said.
Joey strode across the field to his opponent, a bounce in his step. "Rarest card, thanks."
She stared at him, jaw hanging. The referee had to repeat the call for her ante before she flipped woodenly through her deck and handed Joey a card.
"Remember this." He tapped her card to his forehead. "There's more to duelin' than cards and lifepoints and turns. There's people, too. The pharaoh taught me that."
"Well done, Joey," Yuugi whispered, and Serenity could swear there was a catch in his voice.
Then the platform lowered, and Joey bounded down the stairs just as Serenity raced up. She threw her arms around him, and he gripped her tightly in return, swinging her in a circle that almost took them both flying off the steps.
She laughed. "Joey, that was amazing!"
He sniffed and set her down, eyes wet as he said, "Thanks for watchin' every minute."
She smiled.
Tristan crowded behind her, bellowing, "JOEY WHEELER, THAT'S HOW IT'S DONE!"
"DAMN STRAIGHT IT IS!" Joey hollered back, and the two boys engaged in a friendly punching battle that would definitely leave bruises. Serenity retreated to avoid any unintentional splash damage, giggling as she went.
Anzu rolled her eyes at the boys but called out, "You really pulled through. I was worried."
Joey slapped a hand to his heart, elbowing Tristan in the same movement. "What, no faith?"
"Only one duel left now," Ryou said, turning to look at Yori.
"And big shoes to fill." She nodded at Joey.
"Thanks, man." Joey grinned. "But you're gonna beat the pants off that Marik freak, and I can't wait to see it. It's the best way to celebrate my comcast."
Anzu rolled her eyes again. "It's 'conquest,' Joey."
"What? No way. That's, like, a telephone company or whatsit. A toothpaste, maybe."
"Oh, Joey." Serenity winced, but she couldn't help a smile. He was a goofball and a protector. Incredible in every way.
Serenity had spent most of her time at the tournament so far trying not to worry (or freak out) about what kind of consequences she'd face once she made it home again. But she was certain now more than ever that it had been the right decision to come.
"Hey, sis. Have a Kit Kat." Joey grinned as he snapped one in half and held out a stick for her.
She didn't regret a moment.
Note: So I have some bad news-it comes in the form of a wrist brace. Now Anzu and I match, hahaha . . . I tell you, guys, October was not my month. So many things went wrong. xP
I don't know what impact this will have on my writing yet. I'm hoping not much, but it's terrible timing either way with this month being NaNoWriMo and all. I'll keep you posted. In the meantime, plan on another update next Thursday like normal (November 14th).