Chapter 24: To Be Seen

When a knock came at his door, Duke knew immediately who it was, and his face flared with color.

The door slid aside, and there was Serenity, smiling at him.

"I brought you breakfast." She lifted a plate of bacon, eggs, and orange slices. "If you have any food allergies, speak now."

He wished he could match her lighthearted mood, but he hadn't felt lighthearted all night. He gently took the plate from her and walked to what his mind had already designated as their table by the window. The food gave him an excuse not to talk, and Serenity seemed content to let the silence stand.

Halfway through the eggs, he finally couldn't stand it.

"You're not worried?" It was one thing for Joey to be carefree; it seemed to be one of the only two moods he was capable of. But Serenity—

"I'm worried." She kept her eyes on the window, her face relaxed, though not as lighthearted as earlier.

"It's insanity, right? For everyone to just pretend like this is normal? I mean, I thought the supernatural stuff was a joke at first, but I literally watched a girl get stabbed, and then they said she's fine, and then she straight-up lost her mind and had to be sedated like a . . ."

He stopped himself from saying like a dog, but it was what he felt. All his mind could seem to focus on was the first time he'd seen the movie Old Yeller, how he'd stared at his beloved black lab in horror and asked his mom if he'd ever have to shoot Trixie.

"Sweetie," she'd said, "you'll never see a dog go rabid in your life. Not in this modern world. I told your dad not to let you watch that dumb movie."

He wished it would have been a dog. Seeing a person go rabid (which was the only way he could describe what had happened) was a million times worse.

"It is insane," Serenity agreed. "All that stuff in the duel . . . watching someone's life projected like a movie but without any footage. I can't explain it."

Duke shook his head. "You're a science person. You must be going even crazier than I am."

When she'd stayed with her brother while he walked away, he'd thought . . .

It was a relief to hear he wasn't alone.

"I am a science person." She smiled, turned from the window to look at him. "Biology makes sense to me—the genetic reasons we act in certain ways, animal and human both. I like explanations. I like reasons."

"Me too." He set his fork aside, relaxed in his chair. For the first time since the previous night, he felt like he could breathe.

"When I first got into biology, I thought I would find an explanation for my parents." She swallowed. "But I didn't. Genetics can tell me why my mom has blue eyes and I don't, but it can't tell me why she left my brother. Psychology does a little better, and even if some people call it a 'pseudoscience'—a bunch of hopes pretending to be based in the scientific method—I study it anyway. Because it gives me reasons that make sense, reasons that biology can't offer."

Despite bringing home straight-As most of his life, Duke suddenly felt like a slacker. He'd never paid enough attention in classes to learn the heart of what was being taught; he'd just memorized the passages and repeated them for the tests. The most enjoyment he'd ever gotten out of high school had come from PE and an elective shop class—the hands-on stuff that made him feel like he was accomplishing something in the moment.

"Then there's religion." Serenity's cheeks pinked, and she gave a small, breathy laugh. "My mom thinks I'm crazy for going to church. She doesn't believe there's anything bigger out there except the stars. And as a 'science person,' it does feel a little strange sometimes, taking things on faith. But when I'm alone at night and my heart hurts, biology tells me I need a pack or a mate. Psychology tells me I've got unhealed trauma. Both of them give me a little hope for the future; they give me a reason and a path forward. But it's religion that says I'm not actually alone, that says there's a divine purpose in things I can't always see. In those moments at midnight, religion is what actually comforts me and makes me feel like I can take that path forward and it will be worth it."

"That's beautiful," Duke said. "I mean it." He went to church sometimes with his dad, mostly for holidays or for networking opportunities, and he'd never hated it, but he'd also never felt anything like what she described. On his own lonely nights, the only comfort he ever found was the knowledge that sometimes just sticking things out to the morning made the dark bearable for another day.

"Thanks for calling it beautiful, not crazy." Her blush had darkened, but she smiled. "For the tournament, I guess all I'm trying to say is we live in a crazy world, and maybe the answers aren't always where we want them to be, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing."

"It looks kind of bad so far."

"Well, we haven't investigated yet." Her smile turned a bit mischievous as she leaned forward. "Just because it's magic doesn't mean we can't test it with the scientific method. It could be like a science fair!"

Her enthusiasm was adorable—and it was contagious.

"I've never won a science fair." Duke finally managed a smile of his own. "I blame it on my lack of a cute partner."

She struck a pose, hands under her chin, eyelashes fluttering. "It is cuteness that matters most in science, after all. Even the strongest molecules can't resist my smile."

Maybe they could, but Duke certainly couldn't. He reached for her hand, stealing it from under her chin, playing with her fingers. The way she blushed made his own smile turn mischievous.

"I'm listening." He kept his eyes on hers as he traced circles across the back of her hand with his thumb. "Tell me how to win this science fair."

She bit her lip, clearly on the verge of a giggle. But she didn't pull her hand away.

"It isn't about winning," she finally managed, and he could swear she was trying for a stern expression. "It's about better understanding how the world works."

"Fascinating." He laced his fingers through hers, switched to tracing circles on her palm. "Go on."

"First we make an observation, like the black dome during the duel. It appeared in an instant; it looked like fog, which is penetrable, but it behaved like a wall, completely impenetrable; and it displayed images like a screen despite no discernible input source."

Funny how that dome had terrified him the night before. Sitting with Serenity in the light from the window, tracing her soft skin and enjoying her smile, the dome seemed like a faraway thing, strange but not scary.

"I'm pretty sure you just used at least three words I've never learned," he teased.

To his surprise, she winced. "I'm in a private school. Mom insists, even though I know we can't really afford it. So I try to learn everything I can. I know I can be a little—"

Duke squeezed her hand. "You're amazing. Keep going."

She ducked her head. "Okay, well, next we explore. What could cause a dome like that?"

"Hallucinations?" He smirked.

"Possibly. It would have to be mass hallucinations since there were so many of us present."

"Drugs? Maybe Kaiba drugged our food."

She laughed. "Again, all of us seeing the same thing is very unlikely. Not to mention none of us felt drugged."

"That's part of the effect. Kaiba's a very sneaky mastermind."

"I'd say the hypothesis we're both most curious about is magic: 'The dome was caused by magic.' That's the one we have to put to the test."

"So if magic doesn't exist, we lose the science fair, but we're both happier for it."

"I don't know about that." She squeezed his hand this time, and his heart pounded in response. "Haven't you ever dreamed about a world with magic?"

Not the kind that makes people rabid.

"I've watched a lot of movies," he said, "and I've always thought a world with magic is only good if you're one of the people who has it. Otherwise, it seems like the worst world ever."

She considered that. When she spoke again, her voice was shy and quiet. "Well, even if magic exists and neither of us have it, you're in this world. So I'd call it the best one."

Duke's breath caught.

He didn't need a scientific method to tell him there wasn't another girl in the world like Serenity. All his life, people had liked him because of his business or his looks or his family. He'd always had an abundance of fans and a shortage of friends, and no one had ever looked him in the eyes and made him feel seen like she did in that moment.

He stood, tugging on her hand to get her to stand with him.

"Is something wrong?" Her eyes widened. "Did I—"

Duke cupped her face gently in his hands and kissed her.

Joey couldn't get Krisalyn's words out of his head. They rang like music in his ears and lifted him a few giddy inches off the ground as he walked.

"I'm not miles above you, Joey. We're kindred spirits. We're the underdogs."

She was a world-famous Olympic queen, and he was an ex-street thug who wasn't even sure he knew what 'kindred' meant. But she'd said it anyway. He didn't know what world she lived in to look at him and think they were the same, but it was a world he'd give anything to live in, too.

His good mood probably would have lasted forever had he not stumbled into that specific hallway at that specific moment. (The blimp had just landed, and he was trying to find Tristan before the finalists had to report on the ground.)

"Hey!" he barked, goofy smile turning instantly to a scowl.

His sister and Dice-boy jumped apart like he'd stuck an electric fence between them. Serenity was red as a maple leaf. Dice-boy looked a little sunburned himself, but he also looked way too happy.

Joey marched forward and planted himself between the two, eyeballing Dice Devlin from head to toe.

"Joey, um, h-have the duels s-started yet?" Serenity's voice squeaked like a mouse, just like it always did when she'd been caught rule breaking.

Joey didn't even glance at her, his squinty eyes focused on her "boyfriend."

"Did I just see you kissin' my sister?" he demanded.

Serenity grabbed his arm and hissed, "Joey!"

Duke still looked smug as a rodent. "Guess you did."

"I'll put you six feet under, Dice-boy!" Joey fisted a hand in Duke's stupid red vest. "I'll bury you alive in a welded metal box and tape your screams for workout music!"

Serenity pinched his arm hard, which made him yelp and release the rat.

"I think," she whispered, still a bit squeaky but with a slightly terrifying expression, "I'm allowed to kiss my boyfriend if I want to."

She stared him down until Joey felt like he'd been skewered in several major arteries. He began sweating like he was the one in a metal box. No matter how much the rat deserved it, Serenity wouldn't forgive him for decking Duke; her expression made that clear.

Very reluctantly, he turned back to Devlin.

"You get one, alright?" He cleared his throat. "No more 'til she's thirty."

"Joey . . ." said Serenity.

"'Til she's eighteen."

"Joey."

"Alright, one every six months, but you keep your filthy hands to yourself, pal. That's my final offer."

Duke gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Little tattooed, ponytailed, Californian sewer rat.

"I'm watchin' you," Joey mouthed.

"She's the most incredible girl I've ever met," Duke said, "and she's safe with me. I promise."

Joey wondered uncomfortably if his dad had ever said something similar about his mom. It hadn't been the fighting that had gotten them married; something had existed before that. Still, it was something.

"I don't trust you as far as I can kick you, Dice-boy. But I'll hold you to that and more."

The intercom crackled, then started an announcement: "Attention, duelists! We have reached our destination for the concluding round of the Battle City Finals. Mai Valentine, Seto Kaiba, Yuugi Mutou, Joey Wheeler, and Marik Ishtar, please congregate at the south Duel Tower entrance in ten minutes. Audience, please meet at the north Duel Tower entrance at the same time. May the best duelist win!"

"I'm curious how matchups will work with five finalists," Duke said.

Joey frowned. "Me too. I ain't never heard of a tourney where—" He stopped. Squinted. "Hey, I thought you were all up in arms about the finals continuin'."

"I am. But if Kaiba's determined they go on and you're determined to compete, I hope you win."

"Suck up," Joey grunted.

"Are we off to the Duel Tower, then?" Serenity ducked around him and hooked her arm through Duke's.

And though Joey's big-brother hackles told him to walk every step with them and make sure Duke toed the line, he knew Serenity wouldn't want that. She wanted to be with her . . . Dice-boy. Joey had promised to let that happen.

No matter how hard it was.

"You go on ahead," he said, positive some of the words got stuck in his teeth. "I gotta find Tristan. And it's a different entrance for duelists anyway, sounds like."

Serenity smiled like she saw right through him, but her smile didn't make things any easier.

He turned away, but just as he did, Duke said, "Wait a sec, Joey. Come here."

Duke gestured for Serenity to stay put, and she and Joey exchanged a curious glance (though Joey's was also suspicious) before Joey followed the other boy around the corner and back to his room.

"If you're hopin' murder'll get me outta the way," Joey said as the door slid closed behind him, "dream on. I'll snap you like a Pocky stick."

Duke snorted. He lifted a deck box from the table and thumbed through the Duel Monsters cards inside until he apparently found what he was looking for. Then he handed the chosen card to Joey.

Joey frowned. "What's this?"

It was a seven-star monster named Orgoth the Relentless [2500/2450], stronger than anything Joey currently had in his deck (since his Red-Eyes was still with the pharaoh).

"You use warrior types, right? He's my best warrior. My favorite, actually. Take him."

"Hell no." Joey tried to hand the card back, but Duke just scowled and wouldn't take it.

"I'm not sucking up," Dice-boy said. "I'm not trying to bribe you into liking me. You can hate me forever if you want, and I wouldn't blame you. This is just duelist to duelist. You fought a good game in the semi-finals; you won when I thought there was no chance for a win. And after you did, I realized you'll use Orgoth better than I ever could."

Joey looked at the card again. It had three possible effects that were all based on a dice roll. Though he hated to admit it, it was exactly the sort of card he loved most—a little bit of luck, a whole lot of strength and heart.

He swallowed. "How much you want for it?"

"Screw you." Duke smirked. "I wouldn't sell my favorite card if you had a fortune to buy it with. Just use him well."

"This ain't got nothin' to do with my sister? She didn't put you up to this?"

"If you tell her, I'll deny it ever happened."

"Thank you," Joey said. Surprisingly, it took less effort to say than he thought it would.

"You're welcome. Go find Tristan or whatever. I'll take good care of Serenity."

Dirty little tattooed, ponytailed sewer rat.

Tristan had barely made it five steps from the staff room before he was practically bowled over by his best friend.

"Tristan, I been lookin' everywhere for you, you jerk!" Joey accused, scowling.

Tristan scowled right back. "I've gone three places on this blimp since boarding, man. If you couldn't find me, it's your own dumb fault."

"Shut up, I need your help." Joey looked frantically up and down the hallway like they'd entered spy territory.

And it was stupid.

It was so stupid.

But knowing Joey had gone running all over the blimp looking for him, specifically needed him, not anyone else—

—it made Tristan smile.

Joey huddled close and lowered his voice. "Pains me to say, but . . . I need an expert on women."

Tristan crowed, and Joey immediately told him again to shut up.

"It's that maid, isn't it? You didn't strike out after all?" Tristan elbowed him in the ribs and got elbowed in return much harder, but he didn't care.

"All I know is flowers, but there ain't flowers here." Joey sighed. "Look what she gave me."

He held up what looked like a glass pig.

Tristan squinted at it, tilted his head. "I don't get it."

Joey elbowed him again. "It's a good luck charm, idiot! She says she takes it to all her competitions, and then she gave it to me. She said we're both underdogs."

Although Tristan still didn't really get the details, the overall message was clear. "You did the use, wash, return?"

Joey beamed. "She was all happy I washed it, just like you said."

"Naturally," Tristan said, even though he'd never been given a girl's handkerchief in his life, much less returned one. "What's her name?"

"Krisalyn."

"She's not Japanese?"

"Didn't ask. Probably not—she said her Japanese is bad like mine, and when she gave me the pig, she called it something like a glock's vine. I dunno what language it was. She don't sound French like Mai, that's all I know. Oh, she's deaf, too. And she's in the Olympics."

Tristan blinked.

Joey stared at him expectantly.

"If I hadn't seen this girl with my own eyes," he finally managed, "I'd think you were making her up."

"Exactly!" Joey jabbed a finger at him, still holding the pig. "She's too good to be real, right? I keep thinkin' it, too. Even if there were flowers here, none'd be worthy of her."

"Makes sense she'd go for you, though."

Joey scowled. "It don't make an inch of sense, and you know it."

There it was—Joey's biggest flaw.

"Dude." Tristan hooked an arm around his best friend's neck and squeezed, just shy of a choke hold. "Someday you're going to have to look in the mirror and see what's actually there, not what you've painted on."

Joey squirmed out of his grasp, not meeting his eyes. "I gotta meet the other finalists in, like, thirty seconds. Just tell me what to do if I ain't got flowers."

After a few seconds of silent consideration, Tristan said, "Write her a note."

"With my handwritin'? She'll think a turkey sent it."

Tristan punched him in the arm. "The point isn't to show off your cursive; the point is to say something meaningful. Tell her what you like about her. Tell her she's beautiful. Girls like that anyway, but if she's deaf, she'll probably like it even more."

Joey's eyes widened. "I didn't think of that. She probably likes written words way more than normal ones."

"I am an expert on women, and you're welcome. Now let's get off this blimp before Kaiba disqualifies you for being late."

Note: Sorry I'm a week late, guys. There are two reasons. One was a bunch of back-to-back medical appointments and treatments (I'm doing okay; no worries). The second is that any writing time I did have got dedicated to one of my original novels. I'm going to a writer's conference in May, and I have the opportunity to pitch to an editor while I'm there, so I'm trying to get this book in shape.

But I made it this week! And I love this chapter. I hope you guys do, too. Next update will be next Thursday, February 20th.