Chapter 23: Haunted
It was Mokuba's idea to visit Yori before landing. In truth, Seto had thought about checking on her during the night but resisted, focusing his attention on strategy rather than sentiment. The doctors were keeping her sedated, so visiting was pointless; that was what he'd told himself. Yet when Mokuba suggested the idea, he didn't protest.
As soon as they entered the med bay, the on-duty nurse bowed to Seto and gave a report: They'd monitored Yori through the night, and there were no apparent problems. Without equipment for a brain scan, they could detect nothing physical, and without waking her, they could detect nothing psychological.
"This next batch of sedative will wear off just after the tournament ends," she said. "We'll evaluate how she's feeling at that time."
Meaning see if she was going to launch into another screaming, animalistic attack or if she'd returned to the gentle pickpocket who knew how to palm cards and save lives.
"It isn't right," Mokuba said, a vague statement that echoed in Seto's heart nonetheless.
The nurse gave a practiced smile. "In rare cases during solid-vision testing, the holograms did incite hallucinations. After a full day in the tournament under constant stress and exposure, it's possible something like that occurred. We have no reason to believe she won't be back to normal when she wakes."
No reason. Except Marik's mind control. And the white-robed man who'd appeared and disappeared without a trace. And the cloud of black fog during Yori's duel that had stood firmer than the best brick wall.
No reason except the strange vision Seto still couldn't explain and the way Yori had calmed as he'd had it.
"Likely hallucinations," Seto said, despite the fact that barely 0.001 percent of users had suffered such a thing during testing and none without a prior history of mental concerns. But 0.001 percent was better than "magic."
"Not likely," Mokuba said, as helpful as ever.
Seto took a deep breath. "We'll be landing soon."
"You're going to fight Marik, aren't you?"
In the awkward silence, the nurse excused herself.
There was no point to answering.
"I know you didn't sleep last night," Mokuba said. "You've been working on strategies to beat his god card."
When Marik had played it in his duel against Yori, the Duel Disk had transmitted all of its data to a KaibaCorp satellite as usual. Although he'd missed truly seeing the card in action, Seto had been able to study its text to learn its abilities, which were formidable in every way.
"I won't lose," Seto said.
Mokuba frowned. "I know you won't."
The automatic response was comforting until Mokuba added, "Didn't it bother you at all that you could read the card?"
It was Seto's turn to frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I thought you would run it through translation software, but you never did. You just started taking notes and calculating probabilities. So obviously you could read it."
Seto's frown only deepened.
Mokuba shook his head. "Maybe before the qualifier, you should take another look. It's all hieroglyphs, Seto. And I know Gozaburo made you learn a lot, but he didn't make you learn Egyptian."
"That's ridiculous—"
"Look again, then tell me that."
But it was pointless; Mokuba never lied. Not to Seto.
And Seto really didn't want to look. What was the point of adding one more variable to his unbalanced equation?
"I have to prep for the qualifier."
They both knew he was already prepared, but Mokuba didn't argue further.
Yuugi had almost adjusted to being dead. He was no longer worried about book reports, at least.
Instead, he was worried about Yori, who was basically in a coma for a reason he didn't understand and no one could tell him. He was worried about Yami, who had to be out of his mind panicking about Yori but was about to fight Marik half-focused anyway. He was worried about Joey, who was obviously head-over-heels for a girl with ulterior motives that involved the airship's control systems.
He was worried about Anzu, who was . . . well, praying.
Ishizu was the only one who spoke, technically, but Anzu sat with her, eyes closed, hands folded gently in her lap while Ishizu prayed aloud for the intervention of Osiris.
Yuugi had discovered the scene by accident. As it turned out, one of the perks of being dead was that he could instantly be with someone just by thinking of them. His previous experiences as a spirit had been bound to the puzzle—he'd never been able to wander far from it. Now he seemed to be bound to nothing, and he could go anywhere with just a thought. It would have been awesome if it were a superpower. As a side-effect of the disease of mortality, it was a bit less exciting.
"Maybe I shouldn't be here," Anzu whispered at one point after Ishizu made a significant pause. The girl's face burned bright red, and she peeked through one eye. "Since I'm not . . . you know."
"I wouldn't know." Ishizu kept her eyes closed. "No one is forbidden from prayer."
Yuugi desperately wished he knew what the heck was going on. Anzu hadn't spoken to him since . . .
Since right before they got on the blimp.
When she'd said she thought Marik needed help.
"Anzu, be careful," he moaned.
But of course, she couldn't hear him.
"If Osiris is the reason Odion is . . ." Anzu swallowed. "Do you really think he'll, you know, be willing to change it?"
"Once again, I wouldn't know." Ishizu finally opened her eyes. She touched her bare neck absently. "All I know is that Osiris is a merciful god, acquainted with familial grief."
"He's the one who was killed by his brother."
Yuugi and Ishizu both blinked like owls.
Anzu's face reddened again. "Marik taught me."
"My broth—" Ishizu pressed a hand to her mouth, then tried again. "My brother taught you of the gods? Willingly?"
"Maybe you don't give him enough credit."
Yuugi wished he'd talked to Anzu. Wished he'd paid more attention to his friends. Instead, he'd let himself be swept up in the tournament, contented himself to let Yami take the reins and handle the duels, all the while never imagining there was so much happening outside the cards.
"No. I'm certain now that I don't." Ishizu climbed to her feet, brushing gently at her white dress. "We should visit Odion. Hopefully he has awoken."
As Yuugi thought of Odion, he was no longer in Ishizu's room; instead, he was in the cramped, improvisational medical room with Odion.
And the dark-skinned Egyptian was indeed awake. He blinked slowly, then tried to sit up, only to be stopped by a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Easy, monsieur," Mai said with a soft smile. "You are still not recovered. But I am glad to see you awake."
He grabbed her hand urgently. "Master Marik?"
"Your unfriendly companion? He is unfriendlier than ever."
Odion's face crumpled. "He . . ."
Yuugi wondered about Marik, but he didn't dare go look. He kept his focus with Odion and Mai.
Mai took a heavy breath. She shifted closer to Odion's bed, never pulling her hand from his. "He is your brother, no?"
Odion didn't seem to have an answer for that.
"Family is not a simple thing." When Odion tried to stand, she stopped him again. "Your concern for your brother is moving, monsieur. But your health comes first."
"Why are you here?" He swallowed. "You know nothing about me."
"Nonsense." She smiled. "You are Monsieur Odion Ishtar, an honorable finalist possessing manners and loyalty. And I am here because while sickness is misery, loneliness is more so. I know the music."
Loneliness.
Yuugi swallowed.
/Reconsidering my offer yet?/The new voice didn't come from the room; it echoed in Yuugi's mind. The voice of his new least-favorite god.
Yuugi didn't reply. When he focused on Yori, he stood at her bedside along with a doctor, but unlike Odion, she still hadn't woken. The doctor injected something into her IV tube, then watched the monitor tracking her vitals. Nothing changed.
"I thought I was saving you," Yuugi whispered.
He'd almost adjusted to being dead, but what was the point of dying if it hadn't even helped?
/It's a waste for you to stay like this,/ Ra said. /You're a brilliant child with a full future. Why should she get two lives and you not even half of one?/
"You're a god. Why do you need my permission to do whatever you want?"
Ra said nothing, but Yuugi's mind was already working on the puzzle—had been ever since he'd realized it existed.
"You want Yori dead, but you can't just kill her." That was the first piece. A crucial one.
/You'd prefer I simply kill her now and leave you both dead?/
"I don't know if you've heard, but I'm the King of Games. Your bluff is showing." Yuugi's knees shook a bit under the weight of calling out a god, but he knew truth when he saw it.
Ra fell silent, and Yuugi focused on Yami. The pharaoh was sitting in the lounge, alone at a table. He held the Millennium Puzzle in his hands, staring into its Eye of Horus.
"Did you realize I'm gone?" Yuugi's stomach pinched at the thought. "I don't know what it feels like for you."
Yuugi could still feel their mental bond at the back of his mind like always, but he'd tried mental communication, and Yami hadn't heard him any more than when he'd spoken aloud.
Still . . .
Shouldn't the bond have disappeared when Yuugi died?
He thought of Joey's duel with Ishizu, of the pixie snickering on the field after the supposed loss.
Maybe power over Yori's life wasn't Ra's only bluff. Maybe that was the second piece.
Yuugi stepped forward, reaching for the puzzle, barely daring to hope. His hand passed through the gold, just as it did with everything else. But just as he let out a frustrated sigh—
—the puzzle glowed.
Yami started, almost dropping the object.
"Yuugi?" he said.
"I'm here!" Yuugi waved his arms like it would help his case. He even jumped in place once. "I'm right here!"
But it was obvious he was as invisible and unheard as ever.
The boy turned away, clutching his hair in frustration. Something was off. Everything was off. But it was like the time he'd found a handful of cardboard puzzle pieces under the fridge at the game shop; he didn't have a reference picture to know what he was trying to solve, and even he couldn't solve a puzzle with only a fraction of the pieces.
He wished he could talk to his dad. His dad would know what to do.
Yuugi looked up at the ceiling, unsure how else to direct his voice to Ra. "Since I'm dead now, I'd like to see my parents, please."
But the god didn't answer back. Maybe he hadn't heard.
Or maybe it was another piece of the puzzle.
"I can't solve this one alone, partner." Yuugi's voice cracked as he turned back to Yami. "I need you."
Even though Yami hadn't heard, his face set in determined lines at that moment, and he released the puzzle.
Then he pulled the Millennium Necklace from his pocket and tied it around his neck.
Something was definitely wrong. After growing worried enough by Yuugi's silence, Yami had attempted to force his way into the boy's soul room only to find it impossible. He could sense Yuugi, but he couldn't reach the boy, and if the puzzle's unexpected glow had been meant as a message, Yami had been unable to interpret its meaning.
After seeing how the necklace had affected Ishizu, twisted her mind and made her believe herself omniscient, Yami was in no hurry to leash himself to the artifact, but there seemed to be little alternative. Talking the problem through with Yori would have been his first choice. That was impossible. So he was left with consulting the Millennium Item that was meant to see truth.
As soon as the gold touched his throat, he heard the whispers. The offers of power.
He ignored them, closed his eyes, and focused on his partner.
A flood of images overwhelmed him, like he'd stepped beneath the dome of a thousand TV screens all broadcasting different channels of Yuugi. Yuugi in the game shop, Yuugi with his friends, Yuugi with his mother, Yuugi doing homework, solving puzzles, learning English, walking—
If Yami hadn't already been sitting, he might have fainted at the sheer overload, especially since the flood of images crashed against his mind with all the roaring sound to match.
His eyes snapped open, washing out the necklace's effect. He gripped the table with both hands, trying to ground himself to the cool metal, to the near-silent lounge.
"You alright, sir?" the bartender called out.
Yami realized he was gasping for breath like he'd chased down a runaway horse. He waved off the man's concern.
"Would you like another hojicha?"
Not without Yori. Yami shook his head. This time, he managed words: "Thank you for the offer."
After his breathing and heartrate calmed, he closed his eyes again. This time, rather than simply focusing on Yuugi, he focused on the moment he'd last seen the boy—during Yori's duel.
What followed was almost as upsetting as the first attempt, but for different reasons.
Yami saw Yori against a backdrop of shadows, saw the unshed tears in her eyes nearly glow under Ra's blinding attack. He didn't know how Yuugi put himself in the attack's path, but he watched the light engulf them both. Yori was standing at the end of it. Yuugi wasn't.
He opened his eyes once more, jolting back to himself in the lounge. He gripped the necklace, breathing hard again, this time thanks to the weight of guilt on his chest.
Whatever Yuugi had done to take on Ra's attack, why hadn't Yami thought of it first? The two people he cared most about in the world, and he hadn't . . .
He forced himself to breathe. Forced himself to think.
Following the attack from Osiris, Yami had received a visit from the god himself. It only made sense, then, that he couldn't reach Yuugi because the boy was with Ra.
He braced himself for another flood, reached out with the necklace again—
And sure enough, he saw the boy standing in a room of blazing light. He heard the golden god's greeting. Even without being physically present, the light in the room seemed to press against Yami's soul, to leave his insides exposed. Ra's face was familiar, but rather than offering comfort, the realization only made Yami squirm. He felt the god's gaze, and he shrank from it.
He released the necklace's power, returned to himself. Despite the cheerful overhead lighting, the room seemed dark as a tomb.
For some reason, he expected Ra to speak. Waited for it.
But he heard nothing.
With a sigh, Yami unlaced the necklace and returned it to his pocket. Yuugi was with a god, which meant his silence had not been by choice. It was surprisingly comforting. With everything else going wrong, Yami wasn't sure he could have handled . . .
Well, his partner would return at any moment. And that was a relief.
The blimp gave an intense shudder, and Yami suddenly felt a bit heavier.
"Seems we've landed," the bartender said cheerfully. "Enjoy the remainder of the finals, sir!"
Yami's heart pinched as he remembered Yori standing in the morning sun the day before, her red hair shining in the light. "I won't tell you to have fun. But I'll tell you to fight your hardest, and I'll tell you to win."
I will, he thought.
He reached instinctively to adjust his jacket only to realize he'd left it with her. After he beat Marik, hopefully it would be the first thing she saw when she awoke.
Note: Oops, off by a day. This has been a busy, stressful week, but I'm still here.
I've heard a few people are rooting heavily for a SetoXYori pairing. I am not at all bothered by who you want to ship Yori with-I myself am a very heavy multishipper, haha. I don't believe in soulmates; I believe in circumstances, personalities, and choices. As such, I love playing with AUs, and I also have ship names for every pairing. The SetoXYori ship is called Liberate. Soul for YamiXYori, Liberate for SetoXYori. I will make no promises about how canon will turn out in terms of ships except to say that I will do what I think is best for the characters regardless of any outside opinions.
Goodbye, January. Hello, February. Next update will be Thursday, February 6th.