(Disclaimer) Headcanon: The gang, on who swears most (in order from least to greatest):

Ruka—said "Oh shit!" once when she was two and it was the cutest thing in the universe

Bruno—("what is this swearing you speak of?") pretty vanilla with 'em; usually only curses if he has an accident while fixing something and even then it's like "Ah damn it—I mean darn. Darn is what I said!"

Akiza—even a lady lets some slip here and there; usually just the average swears like Bruno, however I have a theory she swore every other word when she was in her Black Rose Witch trance

Yusei—doesn't ever mean to curse but if it comes out, oh well; part of this is put to blame on theory#2: cursing was just second nature in Satellite—if you shouted "Hey, sewer shit!" in a crowd, 90% of people would look at you

Maria—she got it from her mama, she got it from her mama~! mostly swears in her conscience, but now that she's becoming more verbal with her feelings she's letting them fly more often; WILL NOT curse in front of children, 'tis a big no-no

Rua—gets all his swearing from action and thriller movies he's too young to be watching; thinks it makes him sound manlier; whispered "fuck" once and felt badass

Jack—he's got a big mouth and a small filter; he and Crow made up a game when they were kids to see who knew the most curse words and the winner would get a choice of any card in the loser's deck; accidentally swore at Martha once and she made him sit with a bar of soap in his mouth for twenty minutes lol

Crow—he curses a lot, but knows how to keep it on the down-low because of the kiddies; it's never just a single word but phrases like "ass-for-a-face-douchebag-bastard" murmured under his breath; learned curse words before he learned real words, so it's his mother tongue

"Good morning, little guy. Girl? You, we'll go with you." I wiggle my finger in Horseytail's grip. "You're so strong. Been hitting the gym since we last talked, huh?"

The plant monster tilts its head adorably to the side, a silent question at my phrase.

"Ah. I guess gyms are a human thing."

Horseytail awes at the room, both leafy stems pressed against its cheeks. It bounds across the comforter as it eyes the sleek design of the twin's spare bedroom, surveys my possessions in the meager pile on the floor.

I need to go back to Martha's soon, but was putting the idea off by putting on the only pair of shorts I packed for the fourth day in a row. Summer is around the corner and Mother Nature is making sure to waste no time to start boiling New Dominians alive.

At least now I wouldn't need a jacket (rest in peace).

"Alright, you. That's enough for right now." Horseytail stands embarrassed before the dresser mirror, caught amidst a marathon of silly faces. The face the grass spirit makes when it registers my words, however, is the glummest I've ever seen it. "Hey now, don't gimme that face. I'll summon you later."

The spirit crosses its stems and pouts, acting every bit as childish as it looks.

"I promise, H.T., I'll summon you later." The abbreviation rolls off my tongue casually, and I immediately decide I like its sound. Besides, any sort of name is better than 'hey, you!' My hand extends for the teeny duel monster. "But I have to take the twins to school soon so—"

"Maria!" Rua barges into my room out of thin air, which does little to cause the grass-spirit's card to fly to the floor, yet enough to cause the glow to flee from my hand. The oldest sibling squints his eyes at me, inquiring, "Who were you talking to?"

I stow the card in my back pocket and fake a stretch. "What makes you think I was talking to someone?"

"Because I heard you talking to someone."

"I've been talking to no one, except for you."

"And you're sure about this?"

"Oh, I'm as positive about this as I am about you needing your ears checked," I poke him in the forehead, "old man."

We descend to the flat's first floor, Rua disappearing behind a bathroom door and myself to the kitchen. Ruka stands near the stove, sizzling eggs in a skillet.

"Ruka, what did I tell you about making breakfast on weekdays?" I ask the girl, leaning back on the granite countertop.

She folds the egg-pancake over without looking at me. "That you would do it."

"And what are you doing, that I'm not doing, that I said I would do?"

"Making breakfast. I think."

"Mm-hm. Exactly. So, do you see the problem with the picture going on in this small vicinity?"

Ruka scoops the omelet onto a plate, places the spatula down, and serves the food to me—doing this all with an angelic smile gracing her lips. "No. But I suppose I should start getting ready for school now."

"Yeah, I suppose you should." She may wear a saintly hoop in plain sight, but I spot her pointed tail swish as she scampers away.

I smile, anyhow, yet put the plate aside. ...You don't even know her..."Hatred, that's what I've received my entire life."... The simple thought of yesterday's fiasco alone steals my appetite.

How am I gonna fix this one? Fix? Please, Maria. Maybe I'd find her when we get to the Academy, maybe we'd have a couple minutes to talk. Quit fooling yourself. Or I'd probably see her at the guys' apartment later! Perhaps then... You don't fix messes. You make them.

I don't shake the realization any time soon. If it could even be called that; it seems more akin to a forgotten memory brought to light. I hadn't even cleaned up with Martha yet. How was I supposed to get things back to their untarnished state if I'd just added another stain to the collection?

"Maria," Ruka starts as we turn a street corner, "are you in a bad mood?"

"No! Nah," I deny. But, I sit on it afterward. "I mean...? I wouldn't call it a bad mood, per say."

"But you're not happy," says her brother nonchalantly. "And you're being quiet."

"Aren't I usually quiet?"

"Not with us."

Ruka chimes in, too, "And you're only this quiet if something's bothering you."

I glance at them, deny nothing else, and tell nothing more. When we're down the block from the Duel Academy or, as I like to call it, the Duel "Palace" (all it is missing from being official is a moat), Ruka shares her thoughts with no shame.

"Is it about Aki?" The girl stops before me, blockading me from moving any further. Deja-vu shivers through me. "Is it about your fight?"

Rua's neon-yellow eyes expand and he joins his sister. "What! You and Aki fought? When was this?"

"We didn't fight. We," I wrack my brain for a better, more amicable term, "had words."

People walking alongside us give us annoyed glares, so I urge them to keep walking and they swear to, only if I explain what happened.

"Again, we had words—no fighting."

Ruka: "You must've—"

Rua: "Jack and Yusei punched each other in the face once—"

Ruka: "—otherwise your spirits wouldn't have felt the way they did!"

Rua?: "—did that happen?"

"Guys, please! Don't do the twin-double-whammy-thing!" I huff out an exasperated breath, rub my temples. "One: I guess we did maybe kinda fought, argued, whatever. Two: there was no punching of any kind involved. And three: what did you say, Ruka?"

Rua and I both turn to her, expectations running high. The younger sibling locks her eyes on the school pack settled in her hands. "I came in the bathroom yesterday because I could feel how worried the both of your spirits were—well, Akiza's were worried, yours was scared."

"My spirit?"

"The one that's with you right now, that you're carrying."

My hand flies to the back pocket Horseytail had been stashed away in. "Oh! You meant H.T.! For a second, I thought you meant," I laugh off the confusion. "Nevermind. Listen, I don't want you guys to worry about this, okay? Sometimes, friends fight, like Jack and Yusei—they fought, right? And look at 'em, they're still best buds! If this was something to worry over, I would tell you guys."

"You wouldn't." Rua looks straight ahead as he walks to the school's iron gate, and turns my way with a disheartened frown. "You never tell us if there's something to worry about because you do all the worrying."

"You're right." God, even kids can see through me. That's downright sad. "Which is why we don't need to discuss this. Honest, Aki and I are just having trouble understanding each other. That's it."

The twins stick out their pinkies simultaneously and say, "Promise?"

—

I decided that, since Yusei would come around Nayla's close to eleven, I could spare an hour to make a pit stop at Martha's for some extra clothes and assorted goods. Although I had vacated the premises, I still remember Martha's schedule—every Tuesday and Sunday afternoon Martha accompanies Dr. Schmidt to attend to the neighborhood's ill and elderly. But on Thursdays, they make rounds in the morning.

I'm certain she's streets over by now.

Once I tell the taxi driver that'd I be a few minutes, I pull the tote's strap up my shoulder and leave for Martha's front door. I hesitate to enter; it feels awfully like trespassing. It's not like I moved out, all my stuff is still here. Like you said, you vacated the premises.

"This is still my home." I steel myself and twist the key in the lock.

The kids in the front room spy me first and practically leap at me from the couch. The signal of my return is spread throughout the house and, before I know it, the clamor has found its bulls-eye in the first hall.

"Seems they can't get enough of you," says Saiga, a grin parting his scruffy face.

"Seems so," I chuckle awkwardly. Oh no oh no oh no. Why did I think this would only take a few minutes? They're gonna swallow me alive!

"Did you bring us back anything?" someone asks. The tote is tugged from my arm before I can muster a response and dumped upside down, only my wallet (which I nearly have to fight to get back from Nori because "dibs are called dibs for a reason!") and keys are thrown from it.

"When you go on vacation, you're supposed to bring your family back things!" Maya shouts. "That's the whole reason you go on vacation!"

The crowd agrees at once. I look back at Saiga and all he supplies is a clueless shrug.

Kaito and his two brothers, Haru and Sean, descend the stairs, all three bearing hard faces and crossed arms. "She didn't go on vacation, idiots." One or two kids object the name but aside from them, the kids give Kaito complete silence. It's either a show of respect or fear, maybe a fusion of both.

Crow had jumped the gun to assume all the kids thought of me affectionately. The only thing Kaito enjoys about my existence is ridiculing it; months have passed since our first encounter and the only difference that's occurred between us are the few stray hairs that now sprout from the boy's chin. He's so hypnotized by them that he'd left me alone for a while and I had briefly forgot his despise for me.

Until now. I know now that whatever's about to spill from his mouth will put us at odds once again. "Maria ran away." What did I tell ya'?

The audience turns back to me, awaiting my rebuttal. When there is none to be given, the onslaught flares up.

"Why would you run away?"

"You're our big sister! You're supposed to be here with us!"

"Don't you care about us anymore?"

I send Kaito a sharp glare and defend, "Of course I care about you all. Don't even say that!"

"Then why are you living with the twins?" the eldest rouses from his high and holy mount on the stairs. "What do they have that we don't?"

"Cut it out, Kaito," warns Saiga.

The brunet plays dumb, "What? I'm just addressing the elephant in the room, Saiga. Everyone's thinking the same thing."

Despite the newfound meanness puberty's hormones were pumping into Kaito's blood system, (and as much as it pains my dignity to say) he's right. Here stands kids who were either abandoned by their family or outlived them. Here I stand, their big sister who up and left out of the blue to go live with two New Domino kids in the richest part of the city. The elephant named Maria needs to be addressed, for sure.

"I love every single one of you. I love the twins, too, and not at the expense of loving any of you less. But you all must understand when I say the twins are not as lucky as you are."

"We're the lucky ones?" comes Kaito's dubious tone. "They were born in the city. Sounds like luck to me."

"Once upon a time, yes it was. But your big brothers changed that for you and now you all live in a time where which side of the bridge you grew up on won't define you. You've all been dealt the same luck the twins were born with." I kneel down among the children and smile. "Yet, you are all luckier because the twins do not have big brothers to pave the way for them. The twins do not have little siblings to boss around. The twins don't have a Martha or a Saiga to watch over them. The twins don't even have a Dr. Schmidt to come, day or night, to check if they are alright. So do you see what I mean when I say you are the lucky ones?"

They nod their heads, some solemnly and others proud. Kaya removes a thumb from her mouth to ask, "Are you gonna be their new Mommy?"

"Oh-ho-hooo no," I refuse, laughing awkwardly. "But I do want them to have better luck. I was thinking—if it's alright with you all—that I could continue staying with them so that, at the very least, they will have a big sister to protect them?"

"Who will protect us while you're with them?" Aya inquires.

"Annie, of course!"

Kaito butts in, "She's a cat, for cryin' out loud!"

"Wow, thank you, Captain Obvious for that truly groundbreaking observation." Two can play the who's the bigger shit? game. "Did you know that the first duelists, the Egyptians, kept cats around to keep them safe? Surely, if cats were strong enough to protect ancient pharaohs and priests, they're good enough to protect you, right?"

"Quick, where is she? Someone find Annie!"

And just like that, they disperse inside the property. I heave out an exhale so deep my posture curves forward. Saiga comes up and pats me on the back. "You did good, kid."

"Thanks. That could have gone south really easily so, thanks."

I glare at the place Kaito had been on the staircase, then climb it up to my room. I return to the house's lower level with the tote replenished. Bid the kids and Saiga farewell and make a beeline for the taxi on the side of the road. As the car pulls off, I see Annie strolling along the porch banister.

I wave to her. Please keep them safe for me.

—

The trip to Martha's, back to the Tops, and finally to Nayla's home had taken longer than the anticipated sixty minutes. After tipping the driver extra for his trouble, I step onto Nayla's lawn. Yusei's D-Wheel already sits at the edge and a sudden relief bubbles in my chest.

Yesterday had shed new light on my opinion of Yusei. It would, without a doubt, be awkward between us—this is a given. Not for mushy-gushy reasons, nah. We're just two quiet people the world decided to clump together in one weird mess of a life. The universe wanted us to be together, but not in the way I had thought (yes, thought) I wanted.

I had once compared my feelings about him to a game, a match I was set to lose. I can't try to win by cheating and force him to think of me differently—look at where force got me with Akiza. I don't have to lose at all, I realized. I can simply choose not to play.

I'm confused by my feelings for him and that's okay. Whether it's murky admiration or shallow attraction, it doesn't matter. Yusei had already decided what I was to him. So, for the first time in the months of knowing him, I'm floored with relief just thinking about Yusei, just by seeing the D-Wheel's ruby color glisten in the sun.

I push back Nayla's bedroom door and see an empty bed. Speed walk to the office and see no one. Jog to the kitchen, nada. Goodbye relief. Hello panic!

There's movement outside, however. I run to the window overlooking the sink and peek through. Nayla stands before Yusei, cane propping her up instead of the wheelchair. Yusei's crouching down to place something on the ground. I bolt out the back door.

Yusei rises, hands raised as white flags, as I run over. He moves his head in quick, minute shakes at me and mouths, "Don't."

"Maria, stay back!" Nayla warns as my run slows. She tries lifting her cane to shield me, yet it immediately falls back to the earth. And as I round the side, I see exactly what Yusei sees. I stand between the two in a heartbeat, stare down the barrel in his place. "Maria!"

"Nayla, please," I whisper, my quivering hands stretched out. "Put down the gun."

"Maria, get out of the way." Then she snarls at Yusei, "Don't you dare lay a finger on her. Don't even look at her!"

I inch forward. Nayla's nightgown does well to hide it, but I still notice how bad her ankles wobble. "Give me the gun."

"You're a smart girl. But I did not think you would be so naive." She tightens her grip on her cane. "You see the marker on his face? It means he's a criminal—a filthy, lying criminal who belongs back in the cell he came from."

"He's my friend. He's one of Martha's sons." She chips a bit of her edge then. Nayla's looking past me at Yusei, trying to remember him, trying to make something concrete of his face. "I asked him to come here, Nayla. He came here to fix the truck."

I keep going closer. "This is my fault. I forgot to tell you. It's a misunderstanding."

My hands smother hers. Our eyes meet, and any other day I would rejoice about the definition in her irises, the clarity with which she looks at me. I guess that's just life's cruel irony for you.

I toss the gun aside somewhere in the brush and take her hand. We've backtracked to the porch stairs when whooping sirens sound in the distance.

"Please tell me those Security cars are going to someone else's house," I say under my breath.

"I thought he was stealing from me," is her only defense.

"Right."

—

I watch from the doorway as Dr. Schmidt examines Nayla's limbs. In all the times I've been in her house, it has never been this alive. As our luck turned out, Martha and Schmidt were just around the block making a housecall to a vaguely familiar Mr. Hikaru when the sirens blared past them. And of course once the Security officers had secured the scene, Zora was called in as Nayla's official guardian.

So, I'm sure you can imagine the party that's breaking down the walls at the moment.

I wander the hallway, camouflage myself in the living room's wallpaper as two officers get statements from Martha and Zora. I had already said my peace; the officers had gotten both Yusei and my stories, which corroborated the incident, and now all that is left is to tie up some loose ends.

"I don't even know how she got ahold of this," Zora sighs, staring at the bagged gun. "I really don't."

"Anyone can buy a gun," Martha adds, stone-faced. She seems bordering on "zoning" territory. "Age, gender, class—it doesn't matter as long as you've got the right paperwork and enough money."

"The woman who lives in this house, her last name is Inoue, correct?" the officer with the holographic pad asks. I didn't bother to learn any names; if they weren't Ushio or Mikage, the Sector Security patrollers are all identical to me. The only way I can discern these two apart is by gender.

"That's correct, officer," Zora replies.

"Married to a Tatsuo Inoue in November, 2016, correct?"

"Why bother asking?" Martha snaps. "I'm sure you have a death certificate on there if you've found a marriage license."

Zora jumps in, and I now understand why the woman was so hell-bent on keeping order in every aspect of her control. It's her natural-born way. Her role among the three friends is peace-keeper. "What Martha here means is these questions, they don't seem to be answering anything for us."

The good cop sympathizes, "Of course, Ma'am. We completely understand how these questions can come across as patronizing. Our record database has been a tad glitchy for the past few weeks, so all my partner is trying to do is basic housekeeping to ensure the documents we have in our system align with what you've told us."

Zora sits convinced, but Martha remains icy. "And do these documents align with any information that would actually be of use in discovering why my friend had access to a gun she pulled on my granddaughter and son?"

"As luck would have it," grits the female officer, unabashedly peeved, "we do. A gun license under the name Tatsuo Inoue and a registration for a Beretta 92F semi-automatic pistol—the firearm in question—under the same Tatsuo Inoue."

Why would Nayla's husband need a gun? From the look of confusion and alarm Martha and Zora share, they wonder the same. Does Nayla know why? I tuck these questions away for a time when I can hear an honest answer from the mouth of the enigma herself.

Martha is hiding secrets from me, but I wonder how much it stings—how much it burns to know Nayla might be doing the same to her.

I leave the house entirely then, disgusted by my own smugness and hoping fresh air would dilute my mind's sudden pollution. Yusei stands beside the third Sector policeman between the officers' patrol motorcycle and utility Jeep. For someone with a criminal record and yellow-tatted face, he sure seems to be buddying up to the guy fairly well. My distrust and handful of Sector Security encounters alone persuaded me into keeping my distance.

I walk near them, not so much wary of the officer as I am ruining the conversation. But the aegean-haired man (Why is this color so common here? It's like the brunet of the city, except better) greets me with a winning grin.

"I don't think we've met yet." He ungloves a hand and holds it out. "Kazama Soichi."

I embrace as cordially as the situation allows for. "Maria Takanashi."

"Seems you two have had quite the day, eh?" He isn't a bad guy, his tone bears good intentions. But smiling just isn't something I feel like doing at the lighthearted statement. I glance at Yusei instead. "I was just telling Yusei here that, since this was all one big mixup, nothing's gonna happen. No ride down to Headquarters, no new offense on his record. No worries, period."

I wouldn't go that far. "Thank you."

"'Course. I suppose I should go check up on everything inside," Kazama departs himself from the conversation. "Was a pleasure to meet you, Maria. And good seeing you too, Yusei, though, I would've hoped it was on better circumstances."

The D-Wheelist agrees, "Let's hope that's the case next time. I'll tell Jack I saw you."

"Yeah, give him a shout for me, would'ya?" The officer disappears into the house afterward.

"He knows Jack?" I ask before I can tell myself not to.

"You remember when Jack ended up in the hospital after facing that D-Wheel gang?" I nod yes. It had been the big talk of the group while I had taken a leave of absence for Star Child purposes. "Kaz is the guy he went after them for."

"That's..." I begin, thinking on it, "romantic. Carly must have been disappointed."

Yusei smirks a bit. And then it's back to a silent guessing game. What to say, what to say?

"I don't know what to say to you," I admit. "This is the absolute last thing I would have imagined happening when I asked you to fix her truck. There's been so much going on I forgot to mention it to her and I never thought something so small would become something like this...something that could have ruined your life."

"It didn't, though," he responds with little hesitance. "It worked itself out in the end."

"But it could have, easily. Nayla could have hurt you, she could have hurt herself."

"She could have hurt you."

"Yeah. Yeah, she could have," I breathe and talk at the sky. "No one knew she had that gun—not me, not Martha or Zora. No one knows why, either. Just that it belonged to her husband."

Yusei falls silent so I take it upon myself to explain more. The least he deserves is some sort of explanation. "And, about that stuff Nayla said to you—"

"You don't have to apologize for that, Maria." I think this is another moment for the books; I can remember no other time Yusei Fudo has cut me off to speak, even in the tensest of our conversations. "Don't apologize for that."

"She didn't mean it. I know she didn't." That's the closest I come to it. "Nayla's not like that."

Yusei presses a reassuring palm to my shoulder. "I didn't assume she was. But she's an old woman living in a big house on her own. She was scared and called it like she saw it, even if she saw it wrong."

I look at his face then, focus on the jagged line and lopsided triangle on his otherwise unblemished cheek. "She was wrong. You're not a criminal."

"I know." His hand stays for a few seconds longer before it drops. Yusei's stare hardens, not quite narrowed. "You should have listened to me when I warned you to stay away."

My nose scrunches together. "What."

"I was trying to keep you from getting involved. I had it covered."

"'You had it covered'? What, were you gonna duel her into not shooting you? Are you secretly an 'old woman whisperer'?"

"I had it covered," he insists, remaining unheated. Which pisses me off more than I expect. The way he's treating all of this, I thought it was good he was so understanding. "You shouldn't have run in front of the gun."

But now it's just annoying how mad he isn't. I would rather him breathe fire because he's so infuriated than give me this unemotional, impassive bullshit.

"The gun that was empty?"

"You didn't know that then."

"And neither did you, so don't act like you did! Don't even act like you wouldn't have gotten shot if I hadn't gotten here when I did!"

For a moment, I think he won't say anything more because I'm full-blown screaming at him, so close to blowing my own top off. But, then, like the calm before a storm, he replies: "Don't act like you wouldn't have gotten shot if I wasn't here."

Let the storm rage on. Let the lightning strike, thunder boom, and rain pour.

"This is why I can't stand being around you! You're always on some pedestal, like you're above getting hurt while the world is trampling over the rest of us! Newsflash, Yusei Fudo, you aren't immune! You bleed just like anyone else. The only difference between you and the rest of the world is that you bandage yourself up quicker, just so you can feel liable for others' injuries!"

He's shocked, addled. The best kind of speechless. Yes, Yusei, I know you. You try hard to hide, but I see you. There is no mask you wear that I do not already own.

"You will never be responsible for me, Yusei Fudo. I am responsible for me."

From there, I stalk off toward the busstop around the corner, never once glancing back at the masquerading boy or the house of secrets.

All I gotta say is: that escalated quickly.

TTFN