Chapter 17: Fear

Yuugi had watched his best friend go from frying pan to fire across the course of a duel he couldn't see. When the latest images mentioned the pharaoh specifically, Yami looked ready to call it a day, let Yuugi handle the rest, maybe retreat into the shadows forever.

But he didn't.

"We'll get answers about your past," Yuugi said. "Shadi told us we just need the items and the god cards. Well, and a plane ticket to Egypt, so I guess I'll need a loan on my future allowance. The next six years should do it."

He tried for a smile. Yami didn't seem to relax any, but his eyes flickered in Yuugi's direction, so he was listening.

And honestly, anything was better than the awful silence waiting for the next tragedy to broadcast across the black.

"She'll win," Yuugi said. "She'll beat Marik."

She had to.

But maybe Marik would be even worse if he lost.

A rope of color snaked across the black. Yuugi watched with hope. They'd seen more from Marik than Yori, which he could only hope meant she had the upper hand in the duel. If this was Marik again, it might be the end of it all.

His heart fell when a now-familiar set of gold eyes appeared.

"Man, someone tell me how this shadow thing works." Joey shook his head. "This is three and three now. Are they tied?"

"The game will only make sense to the players," Yami said quietly.

"Like with Pegasus." Although Anzu was looking at Yami when she spoke, she had to look through Yuugi to do so, and the pretend eye contact was almost comforting. "When you dueled him, there was this fog thing, too."

The duel against Pegasus had been a battle of mental endurance. Yori's duel with Marik did seem to be the same variety—no one could stare down disturbing reminders of their past and duel with the same focus as before.

But Yori would make it work.

She had to.

An image of Yori appeared in the black. Still blonde. Still young.

"You never take it off." Haku grabbed Yori's wrist, lifted it, and swiped his thumb across her bracelet. "Afraid I'll steal it?"

"No." Her eyes betrayed her. "Would you?"

He smirked, dropping her wrist.

She reached up and tugged on the black cord around his neck, pulling his teal pendant from under his shirt. "You never take your necklace off."

"Then how about a game?" He ran a finger along the edge of her jaw, down her neck to her collar bone. "Your bracelet, my pendant. Winner take all."

His expression almost looked teasing, but something in his tone hurt Yuugi's spine.

Yori took a step back.

"You're a coward." He smiled. "You always have been. Too afraid to risk losing that one big thing."

"Bastard," Yami snarled, so quiet Yuugi almost didn't hear him.

"I'll make us some dinner," Yori said. She kept her face calm, but her voice cracked.

Yuugi wrapped his arms around himself, and it felt like his insides did the same.

She turned, disappeared into the black. The colors swirled, and she was back again. She stood next to a dining room table, trembling. The cobra was on the table in front of her, curled around scattered white figures that looked like playing pieces for a game. It swayed gently, hood flared, fangs exposed. Haku sat calmly at the other side, reclined in his chair.

"Sorry, pet." He didn't look sorry. Didn't sound sorry. "Rules are absolute."

A tear slipped down Yori's cheek.

"Mehen."

At the word of its owner, the cobra struck. Yori flinched away, raising an arm to shield her face as she turned, and the fangs sank into her arm just above the elbow. She screamed in pain. She reached for the cobra with her other hand but stopped short. Instead she just stood there while her boyfriend slowly stood and approached her. He wound the snake's body around his arm, then tapped it once on the head. It finally released Yori's arm, and he draped it over the back of his neck like a scarf. Like it hadn't just pumped venom into his girlfriend at his command.

Yori's arm dripped blood around the puncture wounds. She didn't touch it. Didn't move. After the first scream, she hadn't made a sound.

"You can catch a taxi at the corner," Haku said, like he was giving her directions to a fun landmark on their vacation. "Next time, don't question me. Or at least play your pieces better."

"She has that scar," Anzu whispered, eyes wide in horror. "I was still hoping this was . . . fake. Something in the game. But I've seen . . ."

"It's why she doesn't usually wear T-shirts, isn't it?" Tristan shook his head. "I saw, too. Right before the first duel."

"Tell you what," Joey growled. "You point me to Goldy-eyes here, and I'll give him some scars to match."

"Maybe I won't come back," Yori said.

Haku smiled. He stepped closer, cupped her face in his hands. "So you don't really love me?"

Her jaw trembled. Her eyes darted to the cobra around his neck, so limp it seemed lifeless.

"You can't blame others for your loss, pet." Haku brushed her cheek with his thumb. "You're the one who played the game. Now. Better hurry to the hospital before that burning spreads and your respiratory system collapses. See you in a bit."

He turned away.

Yuugi always tried to see the good in people, always tried to give the benefit of the doubt to even the worst enemies.

But looking at Haku.

For the first time.

He didn't want to.

"Stop it."

The images had changed again. Yori had red hair this time, brighter than it was now, barely long enough to tuck behind her ears. She stood in the mouth of an alley between Haku and another girl.

"She didn't mean it," Yori said, hand out, eyes fierce. "Let her go."

"I did mean it!" the girl shouted, trying to force her way past Yori. She couldn't have been more than eight. Her hair looked like it had never seen clean water, and her clothes were no better off. "You almost killed my brother!"

"So you'd like a cobra bite of your own." Haku shrugged. "Or for me to suffer the same fate. Fair stakes. Name your game."

"Stop it!" Yori repeated. "She's a kid!"

"I'm as versed in children's games as anything else. It won't be a problem."

"How can you—" Yori cut off abruptly in order to catch the girl as she lunged forward. She grabbed the girl by both shoulders and shook her hard. "This is not going to help your brother. Go home. Right now."

The girl took a swing at her face. Yori dodged and swung back, but hers connected, knocking the girl flat on the ground.

"Get lost!" she screamed. She stepped forward again, arm raised for a second strike.

The girl's eyes widened, and she scooted backward, pressing a hand to her split lip. When her fingers came away bloody, she scrambled to her feet and took off running.

"Hmm." Haku tilted his head, peered after the girl. "You got in my way. You've never done that before."

"Fight thugs all you want"—Yori's voice cracked—"but not kids. Not when she didn't understand what she was risking."

He adjusted the collar of his jacket. Sighed. "We've had a good run, but I've felt this coming for a while now."

Yuugi's stomach twisted.

"Oh no," Anzu whispered.

"It can't get worse than the snake," Tristan said. "Can it?"

Yori frowned. "What do you mean?"

Her boyfriend stepped forward and gripped her shoulder, craning his neck as he looked down the street.

"Is she gone?" he asked.

Yori turned to look.

And just as she did—

—he pulled a small knife from his pocket and drove it into her back.

Yuugi flinched away in horror, but he could hear Yori scream. Cries of outrage and horror rose from the people around him.

Except Yami, who stood like a statue and didn't breathe a sound. He may have seemed completely unaffected.

But Yuugi could see the red in his eyes.

"I don't take betrayal lightly," Haku said, holding her upright as she sagged. "But I could have killed you. Remember that."

He released her, and Yori dropped to the sidewalk, gasping for breath, clutching at a knife she couldn't reach.

"Consider this our tragic breakup. You have twenty-four hours to get out of my town, or I'll finish the job, and it would be a shame to end our game that way." He stepped over her without a second glance. "So long, pet."

As the images faded to black, no one said anything. There was nothing to say. Just the awkward silence of being privy to something personal with no way to ease it.

Yuugi glanced at Yami, but his best friend had tilted away, his expression hidden now.

Yuugi didn't want to wonder, didn't want his mind to even consider—but he couldn't help it. Yori never talked about herself. If it weren't for the shadow game, would she have opened up at all? She'd shown up to the finals looking like she'd come straight from a hospital, and she hadn't said a word about why. Her whole life, she'd faced things alone, and apparently the one relationship she'd tried for had been a nightmare.

But that had changed in Domino. Didn't she realize they were friends? Didn't she know she could trust them, that they would never turn on her no matter what?

Even with an entire group of friends pulling for her, did she feel completely alone?

Yuugi couldn't cry as a spirit, but he felt the burn nonetheless.

Then Seto spoke—not to them but to the little radio in his collar. "Bring the broadcast back online."

Several people gave startled outbursts, including Yuugi.

"Kaiba, ya crazy?!" Joey pointed at the dome of fog again. "You want your life up on the big screen for the whole planet?"

"It isn't even right for us to see," Serenity said, fierce but quiet, her eyes lit with the same fire as her brother.

"Don't be a jerk," Anzu added, "just for your stupid tournament."

Seto cast a scowl in their direction. "This duel is over."

Tristan raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you can magically see through the big bad dome now?"

Seto's scowl deepened. "I don't have to. After all that, either Yori's broken or Marik's about to be. Either way, this duel is over."

Yuugi recognized the truth of Seto's insight, and he could only pray it wasn't the first option.

/We're here for you, Yori./ He wrapped his arms tighter around himself. She'd stood through worse than Marik. She could handle this. But she shouldn't have to do it alone. /I'm here for you./

If he could stand with her on the field, he would. If he could take an attack for her, he would. If he could spare her any pain after everything she'd already faced, he would.

And just as he had the thought, the world turned gold.

There was one card in Yori's deck that could have beaten Ra—Transforming Avatar [0/0], the card she'd won from Daichi. If she could have summoned it, it would have taken on the form and points of Ra. An attack would have destroyed them both and cleared Ra from the field.

But not only did Yori not have a chance to summon it; she never even got a chance to draw it.

Marik summoned his god, and then he used a magic card to remove her assassin from the field for one battle phase, leaving Dante as her only defender. Another spell card granted him a second attack for the price of half his lifepoints. The second attack would have gone to his weakest monster, but with only Ra on his field, it fell to Ra.

Two attacks, and only Dante on her side. Her spellcaster stood firm and resolute, burning crimson eyes fixed on the god.

But he was no match.

Ra incinerated him in a beam of scorching white light.

His scream broke Yori's heart.

The images of Haku that followed broke her spirit to match.

"I see now." Marik cackled and slapped a hand to his heart. "It isn't the boy and his pet. It's you; the fool who fell for it."

Yori bit her lip as it trembled, but even when it drew blood, it couldn't stop the tears.

Her lifepoints were at 800.

Nothing stood between her and the god who'd killed her once already.

Marik spread his hands wide, face glowing in the light of Ra. He raised an arm, pointed a finger directly at her chest. And above him, that towering bird of light let out another cry.

I'll survive, she told herself. She'd survived everything life had thrown at her so far. But even as she had the thought, part of her wasn't sure. Part of her wondered if the burning in her back was from a knife that was still there.

Ra opened his beak, and a small sun began to grow in the cavity, gaining size, gaining brilliance.

Marik shrieked with laughter. "Attack! Attack! ATTACK!"

The ball of light erupted into a beam—

And suddenly, Yuugi was there, floating before her as a spirit, his face inches from hers.

She stared at him, eyes wide, mouth open in shock.

He smiled.

—and Ra's attack engulfed them both in heat. Yori gasped and squeezed her eyes shut against the blinding light. It was like someone had lifted an active volcano and poured it over her head. The burn drenched her bones, evaporated the air from her lungs.

And then it was over.

And she was still standing.

But when she opened her eyes, she saw Yuugi on the ground in front of her, unconscious.

The only thing Yami could discern about the progress of the duel was that Yori and Marik had an equal number of life-images shown, which meant he could hope the scores were tied. He wished he knew the rules of the shadow game or the consequences of losing.

But he knew nothing—a fact that had been rather brought home to him with the most recent images on the dome.

Yami barely noticed when Yuugi disappeared. A corner of his mind told him that he should have been more compassionate, more understanding to Yuugi's attempts to reach him, yet it was hard for him to offer any words when he wasn't sure what he should think.

A golden ray burst through the black, followed quickly by another and another. The shadow dome splintered around an eruption of light that sank Yami's heart to his stomach.

"Ra," Kaiba breathed.

The light engulfed everyone on the platform. After it cleared, Yami tried to blink the spots from his vision enough to see what had happened. It took him a few seconds of trying to find the black dome to realize it was gone.

"Yori!" he shouted, but she gave no answer. Then he saw her, fallen to her knees on the field, hunched forward. Maybe hurt.

She'd lost a shadow game.

And Marik, crossing the field with slow, deliberate steps, had almost reached her.

Yami raced for the edge of the platform, shoving his way past Tristan and Joey. In his mind, he saw the Ghoul he'd challenged to a shadow game, eyes terrified, ready to fall into never-ending black. He saw the knife thrower. He saw Pandora.

Yori raised her head as Marik reached her. She started to stand, but Marik grabbed her by the throat.

At the same moment, his other hand sank the pointed shaft of the Millennium Rod into her stomach.

"YORI!" Yami screamed.

Marik lifted her by the neck, plucked a card from her Duel Disk, and tossed her aside.

Yami launched himself at the dueling platform, hauling himself up and over the edge. Marik turned to meet him, teeth bared, veins bulging. Yami swung hard, and his fist connected with the Egyptian's jaw. Marik stumbled to the side, coughing and cackling all in the same sound.

"Feisty pharaoh," he hissed, patting his jaw. Shadows howled in Yami's ears, but he forced himself to turn from Marik. Instead, he dropped to his knees next to Yori.

The moment he touched her shoulder, she raised her head, her expression almost groggy.

"I've got you," Yami said gently, brushing his hand over her cheek. He scooped her into his arms, stumbling a little as he rose. The referee had already started lowering the dueling platform; it was nearly on the ground.

"Kaiba!" Yami shouted, but Kaiba was already standing with the elevator open.

"There's a med bay waiting," the CEO said. His expression was blank, almost careless, and in that instant, Yami could have hit him, too. Instead, he hurried to the elevator, holding Yori as tightly as he could—as if the strength of his hold could force the situation to turn out all right.

The others had already piled in the elevator as well, so as the doors closed, Marik stood alone on the roof of the blimp. In the final sliver of light, Yami saw the Egyptian wave, and then the doors closed, and his stomach dropped with the elevator.

The med bay wasn't far, but Yami felt a fist around his heart as he approached it, squeezing tighter with every step. Three staff members had him put Yori on a table—the same one he'd been examined on earlier—then told him to stand back. Every part of him was cold without her. He stared at her face, her colorless skin, her half-lidded eyes. One of the doctors tried to convince him to wait outside the room with the others, but when he met her gaze, she abruptly stopped talking and turned back to the table.

"I don't understand," one of the doctors said. "Mr. Kaiba reported this girl was stabbed?"

The third doctor turned to Yami. "Can you confirm the location of the wound?"

Yami's throat constricted. "Her—her stomach."

"That's what Mr. Kaiba said." The first doctor gave what appeared to be a shrug. "Never expected him to be fooled by his own holograms."

"What do you mean?" Yami demanded.

"Your friend's fine," the doctor said, motioning him forward.

Yami took a hesitant step, and for the first time, he looked directly at Yori's stomach, his own stomach shrinking back against his spine as he did so.

But there was nothing there.

The doctors had lifted her shirt, which wasn't torn or bloodstained, and the skin beneath was smooth and unbroken.

"Pupils are constricting," the second doctor said, leaning over Yori's eyes with a small flashlight. "Seems she's just dazed. Probably overexertion or a reaction to the intense holographic effects."

The first doctor gave Yami a disapproving look. "Next time, try not to get so worked up over a game, alright?"

"I don't . . ." Yami's breath ran out before he could finish.

The third doctor touched his elbow, steering him gently toward the door. "Why don't you let your friend rest—she should be fine in a few minutes."

So Yami was left standing in the hallway as the door slid closed behind him.

"Yami!" Joey shouted, rushing toward him. The others weren't far behind, except Kaiba, who stood stoically against the wall.

"How is she?" Anzu asked.

"Will she be okay?" Serenity added.

Yami didn't know what to say, so he nodded. A small sigh of relief passed through the group.

"Good thing Kaiba has onboard doctors," Ryou said quietly.

"Try 'good thing Kaiba lets psychos into his tournament.'" Duke turned a fierce glare on Kaiba. "Exactly what kind of championship are you running here—Battle Royale?"

Kaiba said nothing, and his face remained expressionless.

Mokuba wavered at his side, and Yami could see how red the boy's eyes were.

"Seto isn't responsible for what Marik did," Mokuba said, but his voice trembled.

It was Mokuba's reaction that spurred Yami to finally open his mouth.

"She isn't hurt," he said.

All eyes turned back to him.

Tristan frowned. "What do you mean, man?"

"She . . . isn't hurt. She wasn't stabbed."

More frowns.

"Yuugi, we were all there." Duke looked around for support, and several others nodded. "We saw it."

Yami made a small, helpless gesture with his hands. "The doctors said . . ."

Kaiba shouldered away from the wall, stepping around Yami. The door slid open, and he entered. It closed behind him.

"So what happened?" Anzu asked hesitantly.

Yami forced his eyes away from the door to her, but before he could speak, he saw something over her shoulder that stopped him. His face darkened.

The others followed his gaze, and the silence grew heavy.

"You better beat it," Joey growled. "Or I'll throw you off the top of this fancy blimp."

"We both will," Tristan said, one hand already curled in a fist.

Marik's lips spread wide. He held both hands up, wiggling his empty fingers.

"No blood on my hands, Pharaoh," he said. "How about on yours?"

"I will crush you, Marik." Yami tasted the edge of every word.

"Grind my bones to dust and set my blood in gold." Marik ran his tongue over his exposed teeth. "But you've sung that tune before, and now here we are, spinning the merry-go-round for another whirl."

Duke glared. "How about you go be insane somewhere we can't hear you."

"3,000 years," Marik continued. "Maybe this time, we're too heavy. Maybe this time, we break it all."

And for some reason, behind his words, Yami could hear the screams of the people he'd seen earlier than night, an unknown village massacred at the hands of unknown soldiers.

"See you in the finals." Marik winked, then turned and headed down a different hall.

Note: Can you believe Christmas is next week? I hope everyone has the chance to do something kind for someone else between now and then. Thank you to all of you for your love and support. It really means the world to me. Merry Christmas!