Ahoy, hearties! Tis been mighty long since our last meeting. For those of you who didn't see my hiatus message on my profile, I was absent because I had to finish my thesis to complete my degree and it demanded all of my attention. Thankfully, I'm back and ready to sail again!
Enjoy!
Out of all the islands Arcana told him about, Joyelle was the closest. It took the Blue Eyes a full day to reach it and when they did, the sun was beginning to set. Joytown, the biggest port town of the small island isn't even a fifth of Kingtown. No ship in the port is as impressive as the Blue Eyes and many curious eyes come to admire the battleship as it docks. Just like Liverand, Joytown used to be home to the Kaiba Company's biggest weapon manufacturing factories. Ironic really. It also happens to be the town where Alfred T. Taylor, the genius who'd invented the controlled explosion technic, lived, worked and died.
The young baron bites the inside of his lip, clenching his fist on the edge of the ship as impatience and annoyance eat at his insides. Is this manhunt designed to make him revisit the places he'd rather never set foot into? The first thing he did when becoming the head of the family, was terminate all weapon fabrication and trading. There's enough people in the world who enjoy war to do it in his place. He has enough blood on his hands as it is. So much in fact that the sight of his own hands nearly turns his stomach. It's half the reason for the gloves.
"My lord," calls out Leichter, pulling him out of his morbid thoughts. "What is it you wish to do now?"
"Have your men ask around about any sighting of a ship called the Millennium or if anyone's heard of the name Sennen before. Send someone to the local navy post and have them inquire about that as well."
"If I may, my lord, this town is known for welcoming pirates and living from the money they spend here. Do you really believe the folks here will cooperate with us? Also there is no navy post out here. The island is too small. The closest one would be on the next larger island."
What was he thinking? Of course, pirate wouldn't come anywhere the navy would have easy access to them. It's for that same reason that Gozaburo had his weapon factory built here. Away from the prying eyes of the law. Keyland Beruga and Folls, are probably the same kind of places. The fact that he needs to be reminded of something this obvious and simple gets on his last nerves. He takes a moment to rethink his strategy.
Get it together, Seto. Or you're never getting them back, he threatens himself internally.
"We're not the navy nor does the ship carry any flag," he says turning back to Leichter. "And the Blue Eyes isn't known around these parts. Have the men be as discreet as possible and pretend to look for a partnership with the rascals. That should do the trick. And ask everywhere. Bars, inns, brothels, forges, anywhere pirates would go."
"As you command," replied the captain, bowing his head briefly. "What will you be doing, Sir?"
"I'll be investigating around on my own. There's something I want to verify."
With that, the captain gathers the high-ranked members of the crew as well as the Kaiba Company's Guards to pass on the orders discreetly and divide the groups to swipe different parts of Joytown. Little by little, leaving in pairs of three separated by a couple of minutes each, the men depart to go ask around. Some, including Captain Leichter, stay onboard to guard the ship and keep an eye on the curious people on the docks to make sure none of them get too curious.
Seto waits until all the groups depart before he himself steps off the Blue Eyes and heads for the nearest stables to rent a horse. He asks for the fastest one they have. They offer him an ugly grey nag who seems like it could barely stand on its legs. He doesn't waste time arguing and bestrides the frail animal. The horse is much more solid than he appears so he kicks it to a canter and makes his way through the little port town.
Joyelle used to be where the families of the men who worked in the weapon factory lived. What Seto is seeing now is all that's left of it. He can tell by just looking. The roads and the buildings are disgusting. No church bell rang when his watch indicated ten o'clock. The sun hasn't completely set, yet the streets are already filled with drunkards and whores, and he could practically pick out the pickpockets with just one look. In a nearby alley, he sees a beggar and a stray dog fighting over the carcass of a dead bird filled with maggot. There's no order here anymore. Someone could get stabbed in the middle of the street and no one would care or do anything about it.
Though he's dressed as a civilian, the people throw him suspicious glares, as if they can smell the difference. The people here live on the money pirates spend. If he had to guess, the most profitable businesses are inns and brothels. Despite how rotten the place has become, not an ounce of regret reaches him. It was his decision to shut down all weapon manufacturing business that had killed this entire island. Perhaps he should've burned it down as well. That way, maybe there wouldn't be so much depravity and human waste. The clothes, the smells, the people, the animals… The plague his step-father's greed has brought to this island is still there, poisoning every living thing around. Burning it all down might've proven a good decision. Irritated by his own thoughts, he kicks the horse to a gallop.
He pulls on the reins and dismounts when they finally reach the church. Usually when there's no mayor, priests are the ones who act as surrogate heads for small towns. But a quick look inside the small building makes him realize that he won't find anyone here. No that it was likely to in the first place. The alter is broken down into a pile of stones, and the benches are in no better state. Most of the stain glass windows have also been shattered or cracked. Something tells him if he checks, he won't find a single chalice or candle holder.
"If yer lookin' for the pastor, ye be a day too late, good sir.'
He whips around and looks down at the bottom of the stone stairs. An old man so thin he looks like a skeleton and whose clothes seem far too big for him is looking at him. For a moment, it feels like the incarnation of misery had presented itself to him. The man is leaning on a large and rusted shovel.
"A day late?" replies Seto. "What happened?"
"His ticker gave in last night, bless his soul," explains the old man. "I just finished buryin' the man. Father Bernardo was the only good thing this island had left. Wasted his life helpin' out anyone who needed it. And there ain't one o' em that came to say goodbye. Was there somethin' ye wanted from him?"
"I wanted to ask if he had the records of someone who lived in this town," he told the man as he walked down the stairs. "I was hoping the pastor would have them."
"Who's it someone like ye be lookin' for? This old Russ ain't good for much but me memory's still intact."
How does the saying go? Dig through enough crap and you'll find a diamond? Something along those lines. This man doesn't seem to have anything to gain or lose by telling him. A state of mind he could only wish the greedy bastards he works with had.
"I wanted to know if there was anyone named Taylor around here."
The old man's grey eyebrows raise in surprise. "You mean the Taylor widow and her children? The poor lady's plagued with misery. Most o' her children left Joyelle after the factory closed a couple years ago. No one can blame 'em. Joyelle ain't a place for honest work or raisin' tots anymore. She stayed cause her husband's grave is here.
Taylor's wife, huh? The young baron isn't sure what to think now. He wasn't expecting to find anyone coming here. Not certain why he's doing this either. He knows all too well what happened to Taylor ten years ago.
"Do you know where I can find her?"
"See the road passed the cemetery?" says Russ pointing towards the graveyard. "T'leads up the hill and to the forest. Ye should find their home right in front of it."
"Thank you," he replies, handing the grave keeper a golden coin.
Russ removes his hat in gratitude as Seto mounts up again, kicking his horse to a trot in direction of the hill. For a while, his horse canters tranquilly giving rhythm to it's rider's thoughts. Instead of being filled with Yugi and Mokuba, this time, he thinks of the monster that raised him. Just killing him wasn't enough. His influence has infected Seto as well and he's cursed to spread it despite himself. But he has no right to complain. He deserves it for his sins. All he can do is look after those two and he's even failing at that.
Finally, a small shed in shabby state comes into sight. The minuscule vegetable garden next to it looks rotten and barren. In a small enclosure, a couple of skinny goats munched on the few strands of grass that are left at their feet. Leaving the horse tied to a tree, he makes his way to the door. He almost hesitates to knock on the moth-infested wood, fearing it might fall apart. He ends up knocking on the frame instead.
"Come in," replies a frail and elder feminine voice.
The door winces like a violin as he slowly pushes it and enters the run down home. The first thing he notices is the amount of dust he nearly chokes when breathing. The whole place is a single room that doubles as bedroom and kitchen. In the middle, there's a table as seedy as the door. In a corner, a bed with a mattress under it. next to it against the wall, an old wardrobe with a broken door holds a few kitchen tools and a single yellowish tablecloth. Finally, next to a fire place in which ambers are slowly dying, is a woman in a rocking chair.
She is dressed in a discolored black nightgown and wears a bonnet. A thin cover filled with holes covers her laps. Her hands hold knitting needles though there's no yarn for her to work with. Her grey eyes are foggy and empty and for a moment, he wonders if she'd breathing.
"Are you Madame Taylor?" he asks.
"Madame? How fancy. It's been a long time since someone knocked on my door," she says back. "But I never would've expected such a polite young man to visit."
"Do you often invite people in without knowing who they are?" he scolds, as he pushed the door closed.
A high pitched laugh devoid of any true amusement escapes the woman's lips. "It isn't with those legs of mine that I'd be able to run from anyone, hihi!"
That's when he realizes that she isn't looking passed him. She isn't looking at anything. The light in those eyes has died a long time ago.
"How can you tell I'm young?" he asks, almost compulsively.
"The way you knock. Everyone knocks different. The old, the young, man, woman, boys, girls… If they come knocking often enough, I can even recognize them. Well I could if more came knocking, hihi!"
A violent and dry cough escapes and goes on for quite a while. So he stands to grab the water pitcher he saw earlier on the table and pour some in a copper glass. He brings it to the woman and helps her bring it to her lips. After engulfing the entirety, her coughing settles and she breathes in deeply to regain the lost air.
"Your knock is confident but hasty," goes on the old woman as if nothing happened. "Something's eating at you. May I ask for your name?"
"Seto," he says not wanting to say more.
"Seto. Seto…" she repeats, trying it out before laughing again. "I've never heard it before. Well then Seto, what is it a young man wants from and old hag? I don't suppose you came to ask for my daughter's hand. That'd be too good, hihi!"
He lets her laugh it off again. On one hand, it irritates him to waste time like this, on the other he's not sure why he came here. Has his guilt brought him to her? If so, why? Apologizing wouldn't change anything.
"You don't laugh much, do you Seto? Your knock is too stern."
"No."
"Young people should laugh more."
"Stop your nonsense, you're not laughing either," he nearly snaps.
The words escape him before he can stop them, but the widow only smiles sadly and her hands begin moving, knitting invisible yarn. Slowly, she begins rocking.
"You remind me of my Alfred. He could also tell when people were faking. That's how he could tell the Baron was lying to them all. That's why he's gone now." She stops her invisible work and turns back to him. "So what is it you want from old Catherine?"
Seto held back a sigh. He's here, he might as well learn something. He searches for his words. Alfred T. Taylor was the man who invented the powder bags and controlled explosion technic. Someone has used that same technic to make a whole inside a cliff. That someone has to be part of the Millennium crew. Between Sennen, the man who's come up with such a complicated and perfectly calculated plan and the one who has the controlled explosion technic, Seto smelled the strangeness from the start. If he can learn more about Taylor, maybe he'll understand more about this whole mess and get to Yugi and Mokuba faster.
"How many children do you have?" he asked, carefully.
Asking her directly if anyone else knew about the technic is too suspicious. Scaring her or getting on her bad side will lead nowhere. She began knitting air again. As if those little movements helped thread her old memories.
"My Alfred and I had six. Lily, Henri, Mary, Felicity, Tristan and Peggy. My Felicity was taken from me during the last epidemic. My Henri got into a fight with someone in one of the bars one nigh. He was stabbed in the back. They should've left with their sisters. My two older girls left with their husbands when the factory was shut down. They wanted me to come too but I couldn't leave Alfred behind. When I kick it, I want to be next to him, no matter in how many pieces. I should hurry up and die. This way, my Peggy can also get off this cursed island and find a good man while she's still young and pretty. Hihi!"
Catherine's exhaustion is palpable. She's tired of living but she patiently awaits her death, knowing it's near. Two of her children and her husband are already dead. Two are married and followed their husbands elsewhere. One is still here, caring for the widow. That leaves one.
"What about your second son?"
"Hihi! My fool of a Tristan. He's even more stubborn than I am. Pity he took after me in that regard. He can't just let his father rest in peace. My poor Alfred is probably flipping in his grave watching over that scamp from up there. You don't teach your children to make bread so they can poison someone with it."
"What do you mean?"
He doesn't get his answer. At that moment, the door winces and a girl about Yugi's age with brown braided hair and freckles enters, carrying a water bucket.
"Mom, there's a horse outside—"
She stops in her movements when she sees him. Confused she looks him up and down and then back and forth between her mother and him. Keeping a suspicious eye on him, she puts her bucket down.
"Who are you?" she asks. "What are you doing here?"
"Peggy, that's no way to speak to a guest," scolds Catherine. "Don't you worry, he's not from the town. And he has a good knock."
That strange sentence seems to calm down the girl who quickly wipes her hands on her dirty apron.
"I'm Peggy Taylor. Sorry but we don't have anything to offer you."
"Don't bother yourself, I don't plan on staying long," he replies. "I just wanted to ask some questions about your brother."
The young woman's face suddenly drains of blood. Quickly, she runs to her mother's side and kneels beside her.
"Mom, it's getting late. Why don't you continue making that scarf? Your guest and I are going to get some more water, then I'll make dinner. Alright?"
"That sounds wonderful," replied Catherine as she reprises her air knitting.
Peggy then grabs his wrist and pulls him outside before closing the door behind them. She pulls him a little further away from the house before whipping around and facing him, her eyes filled with panic.
"Are you from the navy? Is my brother alright?" she asks. "Is he…Is he in trouble?"
She expects her brother to be in trouble? That's good enough reason for him to lay into her.
"I'm afraid he is," he says playing along. "The act of piracy is extremely serious."
Her eyes widen even more and she brings a hand to her lips. "P-Piracy?! That's impossible… He would never…"
"If you help us find him, I can at least guarantee his life. He's not the one we're interested in. We can help him, but you have to help us first. Is that clear?"
She nods frantically. "Anything."
It's a blatant lie, but desperation makes people do and agree to things easily. It will be one of the lies he wouldn't regret. If that Tristan really is one of the pirates that took Yugi and his brother, he'll get no mercy from him.
"When was the last time you saw him?" he asked, recovering his imposing tone to which she flinches.
"F-Four years ago. Tristan's always been adamant about dad having been murdered. He was obsessed with that, he couldn't let it go. One day, he told us he found someone who was going to help him get justice. The next day, he vanished. He left us a note saying he'd be back when everything would be over. I haven't seen him since. No one has. Last we heard, someone might've seen him in Beruga. One of my brother's in law went to look for him there but…Ah!"
She nearly jumps out of her skin when he suddenly grasps her shoulders.
"Did he say the name of that someone?"
She shook her head. "None of us took him seriously. We didn't want to encourage him…"
Damn it all! She winces when the anger makes him tighten his grip in her. Immediately, he releases her and takes a breath to compose himself. How uncouth of him. He's acting like the same disgusting dogs he's hunting down.
"One more question. Did your brother know about your father's work?"
She nodded. "Both my brothers were papa's apprentices. Now that Henri's gone, Tristan's the only one in the Caribbean who can replicate it."
I'm not certain when my mind distinguished the waves of my sweet dream and the real ones, gently rocking the Millennium. In any case, I am awake now but my eyes take their time opening. How I wish I could have slept a little longer in those waves. Now that I'm up, all the memories I've recovered in the night are now flooding my head. The face of the man I called Grandpa occupies my thoughts and the memory of his voice awakens that bittersweet feeling that had torn me apart but a few hours earlier. I let a loud sigh escape me and roll until I'm on my back, looking up at the sky. The stars are all gone now, and the first rays of the sun are beginning to chase away the dark blue of the night.
Moving my head, I look beside me. Of course, Atem is gone. Did he sleep at all? Somehow, I don't believe I'd be surprised if I learn he hasn't. Some pirates are already up, sitting on the edge of the ship and smoking. The ones that have been up all night, are getting relayed by those who have slept. Only Jack seems to stay at his post, never leaving his helm.
I stay still and close my eyes, hoping the sound of the waves will calm my galloping thoughts as the memories play over and over in my head. Finally, when I feel the sun hit my skin, I open them again and push myself up to stretch and yawn.
"Top o' the mornin' to ye, Miss Shayee!"
My heart nearly pops in my chest when I look to my side and see the young one-handed pirate standing on the edge of the ship and looking down at me, a grin as wide as his face.
"Jaden!" I exclaim. "You scared me."
He chuckles. "Mr Wheeler sent me to wake ye for breakfast. Took me a while to find ye. D'ye sleepwalk all the way here? Never would've thought ye'd leave lil'Mokuba alone."
"Yes, that must be it," I reply.
I'd rather not share the details of my sudden "awakening" and take the risk of reliving my memories. Just thinking about it, I can feel my heart aching. I stand up and follow Jaden to the refectory. We're among the first ones here. The smells of dried fruits, grilled fish, dry sausage, cheese and eggs fill the whole room. Xao and Carrot-top are in charge of the kitchen it seems. I fell strange approaching them after having heard their stories. I don't want to let myself forget that they're my captors and yet I can't help but feel for them. They, on the other hand, greet me with honest smiles which I find even more unsettling.
Our plates in hand, Jaden and I join Mokuba who is talking with Neil about what sounds like ways to treat rashes. The one-handed pirate joins in the conversation, teasing Neil about his and I quote "itchy ass". I look around but see neither Joey nor the captain. As my eyes travel around the room, I notice that some of the man still look at me strangely. I sigh and begin to eat. Mokuba scoots closer to me when he notices my presence.
"Where were you?" he asks, whispering.
I search for my words. "I think I remembered my grandfather," I finally say.
"Really? That's amazing!" His face frowns almost as fast as it had brightened up. "How?"
"I'm not sure. I think awakening the stream may have helped me remember. I remember his face and the last time we spoke but nothing more. After that, there's only… fire."
A shiver shakes me as I say that and the screams ring in my head again. I reflexively drop my spoon in my plate and bring my hands to my ears, as if that helps. I realize that I'll probably hear them every time I remember. Suddenly an unknown voice rings in my head, covering the screams.
"You really are a coward. If you want to remember, you'll have to walk through the flames. You can't run away forever. And I have no intention of letting you."
Again, the truth and harshness of those words shake me to the core. He's right. I know he is. But is it so wrong for me to fear those screams and that pain? Last night, I thought I was going to burst from the inside out, just because of a small piece of memory. How much more pain awaits me? And will I be able to endure it? If I can't how will I ever remember? No. That thought is more terrifying than the pain. I suddenly miss the sound of the amayuta, as my thoughts are torn between determination and fear.
Atem also confuses me. The gentleness he's shown me was truly unexpected. Was it an act to get me to lower my guard? Or did I catch a glimpse of a side he's constantly hiding? In any case, I doubt he'd have acted this way if I weren't a Shayee. I can't begin to comprehend his true intentions. Unless…
"Are you alright?" asks Mokuba, putting a worried hand on my shoulder.
"I'm alright, don't worry," I tell him, forcing a smile to my face and removing my hands from my ears. "I'm just fine."
I finish my food and Moki leaves me be, clearly not believing a word I just said. I then ask Jaden what I'll be doing now that I've finished fixing the sail. To which he answers with a shrug. Neil doesn't seem to know either.
"What about you Moki?" I ask, taking the last bite of my plate.
"No one's sick anymore so I have to help sort out the herbs and medicine they stole from the Golden Whale."
Now that he mentions it, I realize that the tribute hasn't been mentioned since our capture. How odd. One would have thought they'd have hurried and split it between them. Or perhaps they ares waiting to be on land?
"Ye should go ask the first mate," says Neil, biting into his last dry sausage. "He'll find something for you to do till the captain comes out o' his cabin."
I have no choice in the matter. Jaden takes Mokuba to the lowest deck and I follow Neil up the stairs to go find Joey. I surprise myself at how easier it is for me to have him out of sight now that I know Bakura is locked up. Am I beginning to trust the others? Knowing a person's story, even if that person is an enemy, changes much more than I thought. But some things won't change. They won't let us go. At least, Atem won't let me go. So I have to get ourselves out of here.
We finally reach the main deck. The sun is fully out now and there's a lot more activity on the deck, especially on the masts. The wind is stronger than yesterday and I suppose the crew wants to take advantage of that. I follow Neil further but come to a brutal halt when I see Bakura.
The quartermaster's wrists are tied above his head on the mainmast and his head, hanging low with his long unruly white hair hiding his face. What has all of my attention though, are the numerous and fresh lacerations all over his naked torso, arms, and I could guess his back as well. Blood has dripped from the lashes and dried on his pale skin. He'd been whipped. The sight of him turns my stomach and I can't help a gasp of shock.
"What… What happened?" I ask pointlessly though the answer is quite obvious.
"That's what ye get for disobeying direct orders and tryin' to kill our medic," explains Neil. "Twenty lashes is merciful, even with the cat o' nine tails. The captain went easy on him. Usually, ye'd get death for mutiny."
What part of this is merciful? I can't detach my eyes from the bloody spectacle before me. Being punished is one thing. Being exposed as an example to the rest of the crew is another. Not to mention the sun would burn his fragile skin in no time. The pain plus the humiliation… I can't imagine the murderous quartermaster taking any of it too well. One would think I should feel relieved to see him weakened and tied up. But I only stare in horror and for some reason, the scars on my back ache.
Then, Bakura slowly looks up and I hold my breath when our eyes meet. His eyes have deep dark circles around them and are so dry that they've turned red. Atem had been clear about not feeding him or giving him anything to drink. Those eyes brimming with hate are still on me, but a grin stretches out across his face.
"Hey there wench," he says, his voice somewhat hoarse. Was it from screaming when he got whipped? "Do you like what you see? I'm flattered. Don't be shy, get a good eyeful. While you still can that is."
I don't answer. What can I possibly say? But I still can't look away and every muscle in my body is so tense that it burns. Simultaneously, the hair on the back of my neck stands as if sensing imminent danger. I know he's tied up but I'm scared to turn my back to him. My silence seems to delight him.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? Alright, I'll do the talking. What happened to your blue eyes, little Shayee? Don't want to kill me anymore? You really should take this chance. After all, who knows what'll happen when I'm released."
I say nothing. The sense of absolute danger isn't enough for me to overlook the awful feeling of pity I have when looking at his lacerated body. As if reading my mind, his smile vanishes. He now looks like a dog baring its teeth.
"I can't believe you. What fool feels pity for their enemies? Now I want to eviscerate you even more, you bilge-sucking bitch."
A large hand landing on my shoulder makes me jump and I find Joey by my side. The first mate is throwing a reproachful yet sorry glare at Bakura. Despite their constant bickering, these two work efficiently together. If anything, Atem wouldn't have appointed them to high positions if they weren't capable of it. Joey seems genuinely frustrated to see him like that.
"Ya really think that kind o' talk is what's goin' to get ya released? Ya sure pissed the man off this time. Ya're lucky to still be breathin'."
"Please," replies the quartermaster rolling his eyes. "You know as well as I that he's lost his head over that wench. I was doing us a favor. Unlike some people, I haven't lost sight of our objective."
"And ya've lost faith in the captain ya choose." Joey lets out a heavy sigh before turning to me. "Lets go Yug. Don't pay him too much mind. He ain't gettin' loose anytime soon."
The wolfman gently pulls me with him away from the mainmast and in direction of the quarterdeck. But as we walk, Bakura addresses me again.
"Don't sleep too tightly, devil-girl," he says. "You best watch your lordling's back. Maybe I'll start with him and paint your face with his blood."
I stop so abruptly that Joey's hand slips off my shoulder. I was right. The threat is still there and still real. We're not safe. Moki isn't safe. Not as long as he's here. Even battered and beaten like he is, it's not enough. Not as long as he has that hateful fire burning in his eyes. I can't let this go on.
"Yugi?" calls out Joey, wondering why I'm just standing there.
Before I know why myself, I whip around and quickly make my way to the mainmast. For the first time, I see surprise on his face though it doesn't chase away his eternally frowned eyebrows. Being this close to him creates a tension so strong in me that I feel like my bones will snap under the pressure. Every inch of me is shaking like a leaf and I can't formulate anything. What am I hoping to accomplish by playing chicken with him?
"Got something to say?" he says, but kisses his teeth when I don't answer. "Tch. Pathetic. Can't even talk for y—"
I don't know how. I'm not sure why. But without any warning, my closed fist rushes through the hair and collides with his jaw. I've either committed a terrible mistake or I'm about to let loose. I can't even tell. For a few moments, he stares into the air, shocked then turns back to me, his glare even more hateful.
"You're really pushing your luck, wen—"
"You hate me this much?"
I'm still shaking and when I speak, my voice also trembles. And I have to shout to be able to get anything out. But the words pour out of my mouth before I can even formulate them in my head.
"You want blood that bad?" I ask, rhetorically again. "Fine. Come after me. You need to hunt something down? You need to sink your teeth in someone? Fine! Do everything you can to take my life. I dare you. I dare you to try to kill me!"
My breathing is heavy and my heart knocks against my chest so hard, it hurts. Is this what happens when fear takes a hold of me? Have I always been like this? When have I become so reckless? The quartermaster stares at me, his eyes filled with confusion this time. Seems I've surprised him as well. Having his attention, I go on.
"I'm fair game now. Break all the rules you want if it means you can get a shot at me. But I'm warning you…"
Suddenly, the shudders are silenced by a wave of confidence and determination. No. Not a wave. The Stream, coursing though me for the express purpose of protecting those I love. For a moment, my fear leaves me, and I feel strong. I take a step closer leaving only a few inches between us and plunge my eyes into his. He flinches when I do, and in his irises, I see the reflection of my now crystal blue eyes. This time when I speak, my voice is still and clear.
"If you put a scratch on Mokuba— No, if you so much as touch another hair on his head, I will drown you."
All is silent for what seems like an eternity, during which my eyes shift back to their natural color and the Stream slowly retracts to my core. I'm shaking again and the proximity makes it hard to breath. But I refuse to look away. It's crucial for my threat to sink in no matter what. It's the only thing I can do so it has to work.
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
The sudden laughter erupting from his throat shatters my concentration and makes my heart jump. I take a few quick steps back and away from the practically choking Bakura. If his eyes weren't so dry, he'd probably be crying of laughter at this point. The scene is unexpected and mostly shocking.
"Would you look at this half-pint threatening me? And it's actually working! Hahaha! I changed my mind! I accept your challenge, descendant of the Shayee! Best prepare yourself. I won't ever let you sleep. Not until one of us kicks it."
He chuckles again and I'm fairly certain we have the attention of the whole deck at this point. But that is of no concern to me. It worked. My foolish, reckless threat worked. I've put a bull size target on my back yet I'm relieved. Still grinning and his eyes wide with joy, Bakura looks in my direction.
"I understand a little better now why you're so hooked."
I don't have time to realize he's not addressing me. A hand closes on my upper arm and violently yanks me back some more. I find myself face to face with Atem. His eyes are reproachful and anger-filled. His grip on me tightens and I flinch in pain. My recklessness hasn't gone unnoticed it seems.
"Don't get any ideas," he tells Bakura.
"Too late for that." The albino's grin is wider than ever and his eyes shine with sick excitement. "Don't blame me. You're little pet's made it personal."
"I can still have salt poured on your wounds. Don't push your luck, Bakura."
The quartermaster shrugs. Out of provocation or surrender, I don't know. Probably a bit of both. But he looks at me one last time.
"I look forward to our chase, Yugi Muto."
The way he says my name for the first time sends a cold shiver up my spine. Before I can reply, the captain unceremoniously drags me away from the mainmast and towards the quarterdeck. Something tells me I'm about to bitterly regret my actions.
Oh oh...
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