(Disclaimer) The more ya know~!: If you're ever feeling blue or having a bad day, just remember that you're made of stardust and that you twinkle in your own little special way! You are a literal star and absolutely nothing can stop you from shining~!

TW: blood and violence mentioned at the end!

The glass vase gleams in the sunshine trickling through the window. The sight of the yellow roses brings a soft smile to my lips. I stare at them for a long while, knowing who they're from without reading the notecard resting beside them. Then I turn my head toward the window and look at nothing in particular.

Just the light.

I remember everything up until I can't. Walking into the forest, convincing Carly to join me, getting lost with Annie. The cascade and brook that carved out the cave. The makeshift home of a stranger and the markings that splattered their bedroom walls. I can hardly remember those as a fact, and anything past that is just dark. A blank gap with not even the slightest trickle of light.

We're here for you, always, reads the notecard.

I rise from the mattress, then. The teakettle shrieks from downstairs and for a moment I hesitate. Ultimately, I decide to use the bathroom before heading down to meet my family made interrogation group. I avoid looking in the mirror at all costs; why bother when I know my outsides match my shitty insides?

I'm shocked when I enter the kitchen to see only Martha floating around the room. Her face is rounded with relief at the sight of me. I lower down to a seat and a cup of tea is set before me naturally. It's not until both of us are seated with bowls of oatmeal to match the warm drinks that any bite of conversation comes forth.

"Where is everyone?" I finally ask after a good stint of twirling my spoon in the heap of oats and berries.

"The kids are at school," she says. "But if you mean the boys, I kicked them out around one this morning—and quite literally. They wanted to wait until you got up, but I told them to go home, get some shuteye."

A grin pushes at my cheeks for a moment. I would have loved to see them, but I'd be lying to say that I don't feel any bit solaced by waking up to a near-empty home. "Thank you."

"Of course." Martha reaches for my hand and gives it a firm squeeze. "They love you, but even being loved can be suffocating."

I smile again and, like the last one, the expression doesn't catch. My eyes stare into the mug, the memory of yesterday flooding the cup's contents. "I don't know what to say, Martha."

"Back in my day a simple 'I love you, too,' tended to do the trick. But, these days... These days, I don't know. You kids keep getting stranger and stranger." Although Martha passed nothing biologically down to her children, it's glaring to me that she's the obvious source of the sass-master gene all the kids and even the guys share. My grandmother takes another swig of tea, then sighs. "What is there to say, Maria?"

"I just... I don't remember. I can't remember what happened."

"Carly said you two went in the forest to find out why you went out there to begin with," Martha starts filling in. "And then you had a seizure... There was...blood on your stomach, which baffled the hell out of the medics and Schmidtty because, as far as they could tell, you didn't have any sort of lacerations."

The pain comes back to me immediately. Just hearing the mention of it makes my hand fly to my stomach, under my shirt. Nothing but unbruised skin. My shoulder had hurt too, but judgement leads me to believe that had something to do with the faded Lichtenberg figure.

"How did they find us? I mean," I clear my throat, "the cave we were in seemed pretty remote."

"They tracked the chip in the phone Ushio gave you. Thank god they put one in all the officers phones, otherwise..."

Otherwise Carly would've had to leave me to go get help. Otherwise I would have been left alone, unconscious and vulnerable. Otherwise Carly would have been all the more lost in the forest. Otherwise neither of us might have made it out safely.

I take my hand away from Martha's and push both palms into my eyes. I try pushing the tears back, try to use my hands as plugs to stop the waters from gushing out. But they're just as stubborn as I am.

"I'm so scared, Martha. I can't remember anything," I say between gasps for air. I hear her chair scoot back and feel her head rest on top of mine, her arms wraps around my frame. The warmth I felt just before losing consciousness returns to me; it was comforting, but it paled in comparison to Martha's embrace. "Why can't I ever remember? What's happening to me?"

"Oh, baby, I wish I could tell you," Martha croons. "But whatever it is, it's not your fault. None of this is your fault."

—

Dr. Schmidt comes by soon after breakfast. He gives me an okay on my condition, just advises to take it easy for a few days since fatigue commonly followed seizures. He and Martha talk for a while and before I know it, the three of us are driving over to Nayla's house. She would be leaving for the retirement home in a few days and Dr. Schmidt thought one final lookover was well deserved. And Zora was busy overseeing the cafe's morning rush, so Martha figured she could stand in her place as Nayla's right-hand.

Me? Well, aside from obvious reasons for tagging along, I just needed to get out of the house. As worn from the seizure as I was, I was buzzing with anxiety. Staying in my room seemed unfathomable considering I could hardly stand in one place.

We pass a familiar cherry-red D-Wheel stopped at the curb and as Dr. Schmidt's station wagon pulls into the drive, there stands Yusei in the gaping mouth of the garage watching us. Martha and Dr. Schmidt go to chat with him, but I scurry into the house, making my mind up to talk to him later.

"Maria?" Nayla smiles when I stand in her doorway. "It's felt like years since we last saw each other."

"I've been sick the last couple days," I supply, sitting in the chair by her bed. "But I'm feeling better now."

"Oh, I'm glad to hear." She takes my hand in hers. The sight of the lively glint in her hazel irises brings a true smile to my face. Nayla grins back and whispers, "Guess what?"

I chuckle. "What?"

"Guess! You have to guess!"

A sudden wave of nostalgia washes over me and it's not Nayla resting in front of me anymore. It's Mom, bubbly and excited about something—everything—and forcing me to play a billionth round of the guessing game. Her wild hair framing her square face and her nose scrunching up with a smile as she spoke. And when I'd say I didn't know what it was she was so pumped about, she would lean in close; I always thought she smelled like a bouquet.

"No guesses?"

I blink back to reality, my previous expression faltering, and notice Nayla's curious anticipation. "Um, no. No guesses."

"Okay then, I'll tell you. See, because I'll no longer have an entire house to myself, I was trying to figure out exactly what I wanted to take with me and I found something I want you to have." Nayla reaches under the covers next to her, but finds nothing. She flips back the sheets and is disappointed again. "I could have sworn it was here."

"It's okay, Nayla," I assure. "You don't have to give me anything."

"No, I want you to have it," she persists, pressing her palms into the bed to give herself leverage.

I stand and help her up. "You can give it to me whenever, then."

"If I don't do it now, I'll forget." The response stills me, but Nayla keeps shuffling around the room, tunnel-vision working hard to keep her on track. Martha and Dr. Schmidt join the room and Nayla addresses them, "Schmidtty, my boy! And Martha! I'm so glad to see you both. Listen, did either of you happen to see Tatsuo's book on the way in?"

Martha and Dr. Schmidt share a side glance and the doctor speaks up, "I don't think so. Are you looking for it?"

"Yes." Nayla nods and scans the dresser drawers. "It's in here somewhere, I'm sure. But I can't seem to remember where I put it."

Martha and Dr. Schmidt agree to help look for it and together the four of us scour the room's contents. I think back to how Nayla checked the sheets first and lay flat on the floor. Sure enough, some shadowed object hides underneath.

"Found it," I call, getting up.

"Fantastic!" I try handing it back to Nayla and her hands shove it back to me in an instant. "No, dear, it's yours now. That's the first copy ever published. It was his gift to me, but I want you to have it."

"Nayla, I-I can't take this."

"Nonsense! Of course you can. I've read that book a thousand times. Someone else should get a kick out of it for once." I part my lips to object again and she lays both hands on my forearms. "If it worries you that much, just bring it with you when visit the home. That way we can read it together—you will visit me, won't you?"

With zero hesitation, I answer, "Of course I will."

"Then it's settled!" She smiles and pats my arms before turning to the other people in the room. "Alright, you two. What's on the menu today?"

I excuse myself from the room and collapse on the porch's top step. The wide hardcover falls into my lap. When Nayla had told me her husband was both an archaeologist and a writer, I imagined some drawling, historical biographies or research articles. I had imagined the complete opposite of the children's book sitting in my hands. On the front cover is a giant, yellow orb shooting out rays of light in the cloudless sky. One particularly large ray forms a hand that's held out to the girl sitting at a tower window, who reaches out to lace their fingers together.

The Sun and Its Star by Tatsuo Inoue

The book's image races through my mind. I see it again and again—on a table at my old hospital, on my bedroom floor back in Izushi, in my own pudgy mitts. The pages flip through speedily and when the back cover is finally shown, it's Mom's hand that shuts it close. She smiles, puts the book aside, and turns the lamp's knob.

The light goes out.

I pull my hands back down from my forehead and open my eyes. "Holy fuuuuuh!"

"You're missing about two other letters to that word," says Yusei, amusement solely in his tone.

"Yes, well thank you for the spelling lesson and the second seizure I've had in the last twenty-four hours," I snap back.

He's bent over to pick up the fallen book and I notice the pause in his form as he does so. When he passes it back, there's a glimmer of guilt in his gaze. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I know," I sigh, smoothing my hair to one side. "I didn't mean to be snippy."

I scoot out of his way, closer to the railing. Though I don't look at him, I can detect indecision in his presence again, but he goes up the stairs and disappears inside the house at last. When he comes out, I'm still staring at the book, my index finger running along the sunshine; all the beams have this glossy, holographic texture about them that makes them shimmer in real lighting. I count to ten in my head and Yusei still isn't gone by the time I'm there, so it seems it's my duty to kick this conversation off.

"Are you going to stand there or are you gonna ask me?" I inquire, looking up but not at him.

"...Ask what?"

"The question you're giving yourself an aneurysm over by trying not to ask." I roll my eyes all the way over to the mechanic this time. "To answer it: yes, I'm fine. Tired as usual and about as fine as I can be considering."

Yusei and I have a visual faceoff for the next passing seconds. I'm the one to tap out first as I turn to the hardcover again.

"I remember that book," he says after quiet sinks in the gap between us.

My brows furrow and I face him once more. "You do?"

"Mm." He sits down beside the other railing. I take the gesture as one of cautious amity. "Martha used to read it to us."

That makes so much sense I don't know why I was surprised. Martha and Nayla have been friends for years, probably even longer than the friendship between their children suggests. So it makes plenty of sense why Martha and, in fact, my own mother both owned Tatsuo's book. The real mystery at hand is why I don't remember ever seeing this book in my life before today?

Yet here I sit, remembering it.

"I think..." I start, "I think my mom used to read it to me, too. But I don't remember what it's about."

"It's about—"

"No, don't tell me!" I shout, bringing the book to my chest as if it's all of a sudden my child. "I...I want to read it with her—with Nayla. I want that to be my first time reading it...again."

A smile spreads over his mouth, full and fresh as sprouting ivy on his previously stony face. "I was just going to say that it's about a sun," he points to the yellow circle and then the girl, "and its star."

My face purses together to withhold my laughter, unwilling to give him the satisfaction. It was a joke too stupid to be funny, so stupid you ended up laughing anyway. And, honestly, it's one I'd never thought Yusei would make—Jack, most likely. "You know," I clear my throat, "you should really stick to dueling. You're not very funny."

"Well, this is certainly news to me." He rises to his full height. "And you were wrong, you know—about what I was going to ask."

"So, you weren't concerned with my wellbeing. How presumptuous of me."

He dismisses the remark and goes on, "I asked Saiga if he could dig around for some parts for the truck a few days ago. He just called and said he found some and wants me to come take a look. I was going to ask you if you wanted to join me."

I stand too, and quietly retort, "You were going to? As in, you don't want me to anymore?"

"No, I do." His bluntness has me by surprise for the second time, though I don't think it shows past raised eyebrows and a slightly parted mouth. Yusei shifts, a confident look about his features now. "But I didn't want to force you into a drive with someone who you didn't think was funny."

I cross my arms and mirror his swagger; I bet it comes more naturally to him than it does me. "You think you could force me into anything, Yusei Fudo?"

"I highly doubt so, Maria."

"You're in luck, it seems," I reply after a huff. "I think I may just be able to scrounge up enough jokes for the two of us."

—

We sail along the streets, zig-zagging around traffic and speeding through underpasses. Apparently Saiga lives in a more rough-and-tough part of New Domino, not quite a place you needed to fear for your life while residing in but possibly anything of value; somehow this news comes as no surprise to me. Saiga had shown to be a good person and I have no doubts about that. Yet, I'm aware he's one of those people whose got his hands dipped in every pot. So, while I know nothing of his financial status, a part of me suspects he simply stays out there to keep on his toes.

Plus, he always has stubble on his face. No full-on beard, no clean shave. Stubble. Like, seriously, what kind of sorcery does he cast to make that happen? I'm convinced crafty is just a synonym for a five o'clock shadow.

Yusei pulls into a visitor's spot in the garage and we dismount the bike, then head for the elevator. There's no arrow keys, only a panel listing all the tenant's names. He clicks Saiga's and speaks into the intercom, "Hey. It's me."

The intercom buzzes back to him after a moment, the person on the other end leaving him hanging and the elevator opening. Yusei presses the button for the second floor and the lift jumps to life. I stare at the graffiti smattering the walls—they range from obscene doodles (penises...many, many penises...or middle fingers?), to nonsensical ramblings ("the birds and rats are in cahoots"), to meme-like wisdom ("one does not simply enter a game of Wii Tennis and come out unscathed").

When we stroll up to Saiga's front door, it's clear to me by the myriad of voices erupting behind it that the man's not alone in his apartment. Unless he's talking to himself in four or five different tones—or having a seance and these are spirits yakking about the must-see sights of the underworld. I mean, I'm already convinced he's a warlock or something and a seance would by far be the most normal of things I've witnessed as of late.

Yusei's knocks go unheard and instead of knocking harder, he reaches for the knob and opens it himself. His presence sends the bickering group into a harmonious shout, "Yus!"

It isn't until I see the test-fest with my own two eyes that I realize how much I was holding out for a seance. Or Saiga practicing his weekend ventriloquist act, I don't know. Just anything other than meeting new people. I hardly even wanted to be around Yusei; had he not offered another trip down Getting-Out-of-the-House Lane, I probably would've kept ignoring him.

Yes, I'm aware of how crappy that sounds. But you know what? No regrets!

And aside from my mental and emotional states, I'm completely positive my physicality is something relative to that of a millennium-old gum wad stuck under a desktop. I had been avoiding reflective surfaces all day for a reason. Now my insecurity bar has risen from twenty-three to a hundred within seconds and there is no way of lowering it back down anytime soon.

All thanks to this crustacean-shaped poop in front of me, of course. Frick you, Yusei Fudo. Frick you to heck.

I shoot the back of his head the stankiest of faces I can muster...only its not Yusei's raven hair that receives the blow, but a tall man with a bandana and a face older than his lean build suggests. My confused stare lowers to his extended hand and before my mind can fully process the offering, the man laughs awkwardly and brushes the hand over his head, averting his eyes to the side.

First impression officially ruined.

"Nice to meet you, too," he says under his breath, retreating back to the rest of his friends.

My eyes, now bulging with panic and guilt, zoom to Yusei. Then to everyone else—they're all staring. Oh no oh no oh no. My mouth dries out and my throat shuts tight. My heart rate strides paces ahead of what it usually is. In my peripheral, Yusei's boot takes a single step closer. That simple action leads my brain to recommend the same and I'm off. Down the hall, thundering over flights of stairs, and rushing into the open air after the building's front doors. I collapse onto the concrete with raised knees, my hand retrieving the inhaler from my hoodie's pocket.

Afterward, when I start hearing footsteps running up behind me, my face shoves behind my two palms. Don't cry don't cry do not shed a single fucking tear. I can feel Yusei squatting before me, so when I feel content enough with my ability not to break out in another fit of sobs, I whisper, "I'm so sorry. I-I'm just..."

"You did nothing wrong, Maria," comes his sturdy, tender baritone. "There's nothing for you to be sorry for."

My hands fold, knuckles burrowing into my eye sockets and fingernails digging into my skin. "I try so hard not to be a burden," admits my strained voice, "but it...just never fucking works!"

"That's because you're trying to stop something that doesn't exist, Bumbles." My hands fall and eyes widen again. This time, there's no negativity clogging my sight, only Mom grinning down at me. The summer sun beats just into the shade of the giant maple tree in our backyard, just enough to cast a halo around her hair. Mom's hand grabs ahold of mine. "You're not my burden, honey. You're my little girl and I'm your old lady. We take care of each other, just the two of us."

The memory swirls to a close. It reopens to the present: Yusei kneeling on the pavement before me, more apartments surrounding us, and the mechanic's hand enclosing mine instead of Mom's. Gradually, I tug my arm away and rest my eyes on the splotch of concrete separating us.

Dejectedly, I announce, "I'm okay."

"It was my mistake," he replies following a few moments of silence, presumably the contemplative kind. "I should've known—"

"How could you have known?" I shove my inhaler back in my pocket and rise from the ground. Yusei tries helping, but I refuse his efforts. "How could you have known that coming to get a few auto parts would give me an anxiety attack?"

I turn to him, feeling just as vacant as my words, awaiting his answer. Yusei stands and sighs, gaze sweeping across the ground before it hovers to me. "We can come back another time."

"No," I chuckle. I wonder if it sounds fake immediately after. But I meant it, my response and the laugh. I hope he gets that. "We came all the way here. You should at least get the parts. And you should chat with your friends while you're at it because they seemed really happy to see you. I have my phone, I'll just...just play Candy Crush or whatever in the meantime."

He doesn't, or isn't completely convinced. "I won't take long. Will you wait by my D-Wheel?"

I sigh, but nod. Yusei stays for a bit, yet eventually he gets a move on. Then I pull the door open again. "Tell them I'm sorry," I shout when he's closer to Saiga, who had come down after him and waited to keep a watchful eye over the encounter, than he is to me. "Really. Please tell them I'm sorry."

"They'll understand."

And even after Yusei leaves, I feel no better than I had before. No more alleviated of the dullness I feel.

I don't precisely remember where we parked, so as I wander the lot I pull out my phone and dial up a certain reporter who's undoubtedly going to chew me up for not calling her sooner.

"What the fuck, Maria?" Called it. Carly's hushed irritation goes on, "I called Martha, worried out of my brains about you, and she tells me that you're up fresh as a daisy out frolicking with Yusei. Why the hell didn't you call me?"

"Why didn't you call me?" I retort, not at all upset or annoyed, just wondering.

In her normal voice, she says, "...I didn't have your number."

"Why didn't you ask Martha?"

"She doesn't have it either."

"Well, Ushio and Mikage definitely have it. Why didn't you ask one of them?"

"Because I was too worried to think it through, okay?" her whispered anger returns.

"So, without knowing my number, you answered your phone and greeted the caller who might have not been me with, 'What the fuck, Maria'?

"I...took a leap of faith that you would call eventually. And anyway, I'll have you know I've said much worse over the phone, so ha! I win!"

"Do you really?" I deadpan and grin. "I know you were worried, Carly. But I'm clearly better. If Martha's in no rush to get to me, you know I'm alright."

"Yeah. I figured that, too. Plus, you're with Yusei, so..."

I stop in my tracks, my lips pouting at the insinuation—whatever it is. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"C'mon, Maria. Yusei is literally the poster-boy of sound decisions and pragmatic thinking. There's no way you'd ever get into any trouble with him." She pauses. The soundtrack of her office fills in her voice's absence. "Voluntarily, of course."

"Oh yeah. Not like us," I chuckle. "What would our poster be? Like, 'It's now or never!' or something cheesy and irrational like that?"

"Oh no no no. I have obviously given this way more thought than you. Close your eyes, please." I find a SUV to lean against and do as she asks. "Imagine driving down the highway after a long day at your dead-end job. Your boss has been ragging on you all day and you can't believe you've made it out alive or still employed. So, you're on your way home, relieved that the day is over but dreading tomorrow, and then you see it. Ahead of you on the left is a giant billboard of Shia LaBeouf standing in front of a green screen."

"That's pure gold," I squeeze out between laughs. "Do they pay you to do this?"

"I should be, right?" she laughs back. "Okay, okay. What do you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"After you see the sign. After you see Mister LaBeouf's glorious, bearded face in front of that lime-green background wielding endless potential, what do you do?"

"Quit my job in a heartbeat." I gasp, then say again. "No. First I lift a truck—a school bus! I lift a school bus packed with kids with one arm and call my boss to quit my job with the other."

"I'm pulling it up now."

"Put the phone to it. I haven't seen it in a while."

Then I just stand there in the garage and Carly sits at her desk somewhere in downtown New Domino, the two of us shouting "JUST DO IT." under our breath and cackling like hyenas. God, it feels good.

"Crap. My boss is coming. I'll see you later, alright?"

"Yeah. I'll probably be at Poppo Time if not Martha's, so swing by whenever."

The lines disconnect and I'm back on my way navigating the garage spots. It's not even that big. I don't know how I managed to get... Oh wow. I found it, just two rows over. And there's a boy...? A kid standing by Yusei's D-Wheel with bags full of groceries.

I stop a couple feet away from the vehicle. It doesn't seem the kid hears me walk up and, as I'm trying to figure out how to start a conversation with them, the kid starts running in my direction. They run straight into me and drop the bags onto the floor, rubbing their face and mumbling an apology.

"It's alright," I say and bend down to get a good look at their face. Aside from the salmon-red hair curling down from the hat on their head, the kid has round gray-green eyes and a triangle-shaped marker just below their right eye. I push my shock away and instead ask, "Are you okay? You're not hurt?"

"I'm okay. I should've looked where I was going."

"We all get distracted time to time." I pick up all of the bags and when they reach for them, I only allow two to slip away. The kid smiles at my reluctance, a drastic contrast from the usual stubborn frowns I get when I neglect the aid of the twins or the kids. I jerk my chin at the bike. "I take it you like them? D-Wheels?"

"Oh yeah! I like them lots! I watch Turbo Duels on the TV whenever I can," says the kid. I think he's a boy by the sound of his voice; it's kind of raspy, but light enough to be either feminine or masculine at his age. So, I can't really be sure. He looks over at Yusei's D-Wheel with an even bigger smile. "But the person who owns this one is a really, really good friend of mine!"

I certainly wasn't expecting this plot twist; yet again today Yusei astonished me. And at the same time, this doesn't surprise me. It's much less controversial than dumb jokes. In all honesty, this is something I shouldn't be shocked by—just like his name implies, the Turbo Duel King managed to bring the most unlikely of people into his orbit.

"Is he now?" I play dumb just for the heck of it.

"Yup!" The boy holds his head high and shoulder back, a look of utter pride and smugness garnering his expression. I would despise it on most other people, but on him it's quite adorable. "You've probably heard of him because he's the King of Turbo Duels, which means he's famous and super popular! Does the name Yusei Fudo ring a bell?"

"Mm." I tilt my head to the side in consideration. "It does sound familiar. But nothing's coming to mind, exactly."

"Well, then you can meet him! If his D-Wheel's here, he's here." We begin on our way toward the elevator. "You'll like him—everyone likes Yusei! He's nice and smart and talented, especially with dueling and building things!"

"Sounds to me like you like him quite a bit yourself."

He blushes and lowers his head, mumbling, "Everyone likes Yusei..."

When we near the elevator doors and the boy's almost pressing the apartment buzzer, he spins around to me, worry crossing his features. "I'm not keeping you, am I?"

"No," I laugh. "I want to help you with these bags and meet this living legend you can't stop talking about."

"Good!" The boy grins as big as he can manage, then presses the button. Again, the intercom only buzzes back a response and the elevator parts itself in two. He pushes the same button Yusei pushed not long before. "I just thought because I've never seen you here before that you were visiting someone or leaving from seeing someone. I don't want to keep you."

I smile down at him. "I'm in no hurry to be anywhere."

"So, after you meet Yusei," he pauses, teetering back and forth on his heels and intentionally wandering his eyes, "would you want to come play with me?"

"I dunno," I answer, mimicking his timid actions. "Your family might think it's a bit strange for a seventeen year old to want to play with a...how old are you?"

"Twelve."

"Twelve year old."

The elevator dings as he says, "You don't have to worry about them thinking you're strange. All of my friends are strange, so you'll fit right in!" I laugh and we walk down the hall. "Though, you might have to worry about being a girl."

"Why's that?" My brows align.

"Because they're all guys and have absolutely no clue how to talk to—" The door swings open and Yusei blocks our path into the apartment. The boy sucks in a shocked breath at the mechanic's abrupt appearance, but it's not too long before he's got his arms wrapped around him. "Yusei! I'm so glad you're here!"

"Hey, Rally," Yusei greets him, a hand rubbing over the boy's head and patting his back. Then his gaze raises to me, questioning. "You came back?"

"Of course I came back," Rally responds while looking up. He must see Yusei's staring at me, and when the boy whips his head around, he says, "You mean you...?"

"We know each other, yes," I add in for him, smiling. I raise the bags at Yusei. "I saw him carrying all of these, so I figured I'd help."

Yusei nods and moves out of the doorway so both Rally and I can step inside. The rest of the room acknowledges his arrival and I think they're more perplexed than anything by mine. It's awkward being back here after my previous...breathtaking performance, but Rally's excitement helps buffer it out a bit. I try helping him unpack things, but he shoos me away and employs one of the other men, Taka.

I flee toward Yusei still by the door. I lean against the wallspace next to him as he shares, "I was almost on my way down to get you."

"I'm glad it was almost." I watch Rally boss Taka around the kitchen and the other two men, the one who tried to shake my hand and another one, talk with Saiga. "We should stay a bit."

"You're sure you're okay enough for that?" he replies in a lowered voice.

I shift my position so that my left side's pushed against the wall and I'm facing Yusei. My finger traces doodles into the chipped paint. "No. I know I'm not. And yes, I suppose that should stop me from doing anything other than staying in bed all day and slurping hot liquids." My eyes flitter to his. "But that shouldn't stop you from being with your friends."

"I can come back."

"But that's my point, Yusei. You shouldn't have to." I glance at Rally again to check his progress. "I don't want to inconvenience you. I want you to have fun. I want to have fun, not sit in my bed with nothing to do so all I can do is constantly go over all the stuff that's happened."

He crosses his arms and looks as if he won't say anything else. But he does, "I'm just worried about you."

"You've made that exceptionally clear," I chuckle and raise a finger at him. "But I think you should be more worried about all the juicy, mortifying gossip I'm gonna get on you and sell to the tabloids."

I go to Rally, now by himself with the few items left to be stocked in the cupboards. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I know Yusei."

"That's okay," he grins. "Why didn't you, though?"

"I guess I wondered what would happen if I didn't tell you and then it just happened."

He doesn't really have a reaction for my explanation and I take it my white lie fazes him none because all Rally does say is, "Do you want me to give you a tour of the house—er, houses?"

I chuckle and nod. "I think that would make me the happiest girl in the world."

"Well, this is the kitchen, as you can see," he goes on matter-of-factly. "That's the fridge and the oven. Got some cabinets and the microwave over there. The sink's here."

"Very nice. I'm sure you make lots of yummy things here."

Rally takes a few steps forward, out into the dining room/living room. "That there's the window, where you can look out while you eat at the table. Or you can sit on Old Sally and watch some TV."

"Old Sally?" I laugh. "You named the couch?"

"Uh-huh! She's apart of the family, so she has to have a name. Here, sit." When I try to do as he says, he corrects, "No, in the middle. That's her best spot."

The cushions gobble me alive in one go, my feet lifting off the floor and body sinking in the fabric. "I think I'll agree with you on that. I don't think I'll ever be able to get up again."

"I know, right? Sometimes Taka needs a hand getting up when he sits there."

The men behind us simper and the same heavy-set man who helped Rally with groceries defends, "T-that's not true! Half the time I can get out just fine by myself!"

"Half the time is the key phrase there," says the man beside him, the one with glasses and his black curls strung up in a high ponytail.

Rally then leads me through the back hallway. "That's Saiga's room—his door's always closed because he's got lots of super secret important things in there. And this is Nerve's room, the guy with the blue bandana. Behind you is the bathroom, where we do bathroom things."

"I see." I nod and scan the area. "But where's your room?"

"It's across the hall. C'mon, I'll show you!" He grabs my hand and speeds back the way we came, only stopping to announce to the room, "We're going across the hall so I can show..." He turns to me, a metaphorical lightbulb shining over his face. "I just realized I don't know your name."

I tell him with a smile, "Maria."

"Me and Maria are gonna go to the other apartment, so we'll be there if you need us!"

"Alright!" the group replies, then Nerve says, "Lunch'll be soon, okay?"

Rally nods and steps to leave out the door, but changes his mind in a split second. He rushes toward the table of men and dives for Yusei. The sight of the embrace brings another goofy grin to my face. Until it's not the two of them I'm seeing anymore... It's another moving memory of Mom and I. This one must be after I'd been transferred to outpatient because we were walking through an open field; inpatient-me would've been too anxious and afraid to do something as simple as taking a walk.

I picked flowers for Mom and raised them toward her. Even though they turned out to be dandelions, she sniffed them and said...

"Are you ready to go? Maria?" Rally's voice calls me back to present time.

I laugh off my jumpiness and nod. "Yeah. Sorry, I just zoned off a bit."

The apartment across the hall is similar to Saiga's, just reversed and housing different furniture. Rally shows me the dining area, kitchen, and living room in a single sweep. I point to the loveseat.

"What's this one's name?"

"That one?" Rally's expression blanks. "It means nothing to us."

"O...okay."

"But it's Taka's bed, so he might call it something." Rally shrugs and keeps the tour going. "Another bathroom over there. That's Blitz's room right there; he kind of shares it with Taka since he doesn't have a place to put his stuff. And here's my room!"

The room is, in its essence, half dueling memorabilia and half random knick-knacks. Rally hops on his bed, which rests atop a platform of drawers and beside another wooden cubby. There's posters all over, mainly consisting of Yusei and Jack. A small desk sticks to the far corner and on the other wall is the closet.

"You're very lucky to have such a nice room all to yourself," I comment as I stand in the middle.

"Yup! Since Jin and Grandpa Yanagi left, everyone drew straws to decide who would get what because they lived with Saiga. Now Nerve lives there and Blitz got the room they used to share to himself—mostly. This used to be Taka's room but I got to have it because I picked the last good straw."

"I'm sure you must be happy about that, huh?"

Rally nods excitedly. "Although, sleeping on the couch wasn't so bad. The couch pulls out into a really big bed and Taka can watch TV all night long whenever he wants."

"Really? I think even I'm a bit jealous." I gesture to the spot on the bed beside him and Rally scoots over some. Kicking off my shoes, I curl up against the shelf next to the bed and face him. "You mentioned a Jin and Yanagi? Who are they?"

"Jin used to be a Professional Duelist, but he only duels for fun now, I think. He's really big and tall and has hair that sticks out in spikes like a blue porcupine. Sometimes, we would even call him Sonic." I chuckle at his description and animated movements. "Yanagi's an old man, which is why we call him grandpa. He's got a gold tooth and dresses like a samurai!"

"Well, they sound very interesting. I'm sad I couldn't meet them."

"Yeah, but they'll probably visit us again soon. They went off to the countryside because Grandpa Yanagi's got family that way and Jin said he'd help them out on their farm."

"The countryside? I used to live in the countryside."

"You did? What was it like?"

"Mm." I tap a finger to my chin. "Very green. There's grass and trees everywhere. Lots of rice fields and other agriculture. And fish—so much fish! Other than that, there's not much else. Give or take some old, historical buildings it's pretty boring."

"Is that why you left?"

"Uh..." I laugh and try to make it sound way less uncomfortable than I feel. The question caught me off guard, but that's not why I find myself scraping an answer together other than the honest, forthright one. Thinking about Mom's death... I've realized I haven't dwelled on it as much as I used to in the first months following and even after I officially moved to New Domino. But it feels so fresh in my mind now. These flashbacks keep bringing the pain and isolation to the battlefield of my heart.

"There, um...there just wasn't anything left for me is all. And I'm really glad I moved here because not only do I live in the center of excitement, but I have Martha and the kids and a whole bunch of new friends that I didn't have back in the countryside."

Rally gasps, then slaps himself on the forehead. "You're Martha's granddaughter, aren't you?"

"Yeah. You've heard of me?"

"Mm-hmm! We haven't been to Martha's in a while, but Saiga's told us some stuff about you."

I cross my legs and lean forward. "Good things, I hope."

"I'd say so. I mean, he didn't say that much but he did say that you looked like ol' Martha and that you were tall and maybe a bit shy." Rally's eyes hover down from their watch on the ceiling and directly at me, squinting close as he smiles. "But you don't seem that shy to me!"

"That's good to hear." I return the expression. "But I was, though, so he wasn't wrong. When I came here I was shy because I didn't know what to expect and I was scared. But I was especially shy when I was your age because...I guess because I was scared then, too."

"That must mean you're not now."

"No, there are still things that scare me to this day," I say with a hum. "I think being utterly fearless of anything would be pretty inhuman. Aren't you afraid of things?"

"Yeah. Bugs are pretty scary." I laugh and agree. Rally raises his knees and stretches his oversized tee over them. "And when things were the way they were in the Satellite, I was scared of lots of things like other people or not having enough to eat. But I'm not afraid of that so much anymore."

How could I so easily forget? Actually, I know exactly why. It's the same reason why no one in the countryside stood up against the prejudice New Domino coated the Satellite in. It's the same reason the news only broadcasted how the Zero-Reverse explosion affected and hurt those of the mainland, not those with their homes in ruin and loved ones dead, if they still had either. It's the reason all of us in safety accepted what happened as an act of God's Will, that it was His hand that tore the city in two. That it was He who decided one side of the city should be condemned to poverty and the dirt while the other should ascend to the heavens in luxury.

"I'm so sorry, Rally," I whisper, staring down at his sheets and shaking my head. "I'm sorry that you had to worry about getting the basic necessities every person deserves. I'm sorry for all the pain the world has caused you. And I'm sorry that the world is such an ugly place to live in."

"That's okay," he says quietly. When I look up at the boy, he gives me a weak smile. "It's not like you caused it."

No. I didn't cause it.

But I didn't help it, either. And that may as well be the same. We were taught to be ignorant, to overlook, to bury our heads in the sand. That, to me, is exactly the same as treating people like vermin when not even twenty years before they were your neighbors and classmates and patients. It's all the same.

"And it wasn't all bad," Rally pipes up. "At least I wasn't alone. I had Taka and Blitz and Nerve and Yusei to stay with me. I think it would've been much worse if not for them."

"I'm so relieved to hear that." I smile back. "Being alone is never any fun."

Rally nods in agreement. "We used to dig around the junkyard for parts so Yusei could complete the Yusei Go—his D-Wheel that he has now," he elaborates upon seeing my confusion. "We would watch Jack on the TV, even though I don't think Yusei liked that much. We would eat ramen together all the time, too, and stare at our duel cards until we fell asleep."

He gets this dreamy, far-away look in his eye. I let him drift off in silence for a couple minutes, then call him back gently, "Rally."

"Hm?" He blinks and his face heats up with the realization of where his mind had wandered off to. "Sorry! Did you say something?"

I smile and shake my head. "But I do want to ask you a question." He gives the go-ahead. "Do you...do you miss Yusei?"

Rally's face reddens twice as much as before, his eyes widening and mouth pursing shut. I laugh and wonder if some variant of this is how I look whenever I'm being transparent. Must be.

"I-I..." He stoops his head on his knees now, and glances off to the side. "I try not to."

"Why?"

"Because...it's not like he doesn't come around anymore. I mean, he used to come around more, but we all know he's busy with the new engine and work and stuff."

"You can miss people who are still around."

"Yeah," he says in monotone. "But if they're still around then it's more like you're missing the way they were. And I like the way Yusei is now just as much as I did before. We all knew he'd be special...and now he is. So, thinking about the way things used to be isn't right because that would mean I don't want him to be special. It would mean I don't like the way things are now."

I inch closer, press my back against the wall like him. "That's not what that means. In fact, simply acknowledging that you're happy for Yusei means you care enough about him to want the best for him. Missing him is just another way of loving him and loving the good memories you had with him."

"I...I do love Yusei," he says, muffled into his shirt. At this angle I can't make out his countenance, so I don't bother to try. His next words come after a moment of silence. "Do you wanna duel?"

"Oh," I give a faltering chuckle. "I don't like dueling much."

The boy unfolds himself, surprise rinsing away any trace of his former bashfulness. "You don't? That's unheard of!"

"That's what everyone seems to think here. But if you can believe it, in the countryside it's actually pretty common."

"Whoa. Really?" I nod and he continues to bug out. "I hope Yanagi and Jin don't get bored over there, then."

"Oh yes. Let's hope not. Because we country folk are boring, and we take great pride in maintaining that reputation."

"You're funny," Rally says as he gets up.

"I'm glad you think so."

He stops at the desk, opens a drawer. "So, even though you don't like dueling, would you still want to see my deck?"

"Of course I would." He leaps back onto the bed with a stack of cards and leans against me as he shows them off. We go through a couple with him reading off their names and giving a summary of how they work or how he best likes to use them. I comment, "All your monsters are Machines."

"Yup. It's called a Turbo Deck, which means all of the monsters have zero ATK and DEF points when they're first summoned."

"Oh," I breathe out in a sing-song way. "So you gotta do the thing to power them up?"

"Do the thing?"

"Yeah. Make the moves. Set the sneaks. Play some mad spooks." I wiggle spirit fingers for added spooky purposes.

He stares at me, entirely confused until he bursts out laughing. I smile in response as he says, "You're so weird."

"Yeah. Yeah, I get that a lot."

Following a few more cards, nearing half of Rally's deck, the boy pauses. "You're weird, but I can see why Yusei likes you."

"Uh..." I drawl out, flabbergasted to a nearly empty vocabulary. "What?"

"I can see why you're special to him," Rally explains, grinning. "For him to bring you here, you must be special to him. He's never brought the other redhead girl here and she obviously likes him, so I wonder..."

The same quick, tight-lipped squeak repeats itself, this time including stiff posture and tennis ball sized eyes. "What?"

As Rally snickers devilishly to himself, said legendary man appears in his doorway out of the blue. Upon seeing him, I let out the most ungodly, wheezing gasp and pull my hood over my head and yank it shut by the strings. I can't explain why that's the first thing that comes to my head, it just happens. Well, I guess I can—I thought, If I can't see him, he's not here, and then I was doing it. All I know now is I look like an idiot, Rally's in a fit of laughter, and Yusei's probably confused/worried.

"Lunch is ready," he states slowly.

"Thank god!" I shout, scrambling off the bed.

Which could've gone well had I remembered Rally's bed stood on a raised block of drawers. So, instead of getting off the bed with all the grace of a normal person, I crawl over the edge, hit the crown of my head on the wood and somersault onto the floor flat on my butt. The room is utterly quiet.

My sniffles leak through at last, or at least that's what they sound like to Yusei as he bends down next to me, gripping my shoulder. "Maria, are you okay?"

But I don't answer him. I'm laughing too hard, so hard I fall on my back and roll side to side. So hard I snort and make Rally laugh, too. So hard I'm the absolute greatest kind of breathless. In fact, I laugh so hard I have to use my fucking inhaler as I'm recovering and that itself ignites a whole new round of giggles just for irony's sake.

"Yes," I finally answer Yusei's question, still chuckling. But it dies down when I see him doing that stupid face again, the one where he's lost in the maze of my strange, silly nature and is trying to find something inside other than the exit. When he's made me sufficiently self-conscious, I confess, "My head hurts."

He nods and goes on what I presume to be a quest for some sort of headache relief. I glare up at the boy still on the bed, clutching his stomach. "Are you happy, you little runt?"

"Very." Rally nods and descends to the floor. "That was pretty epic."

I lose the expression in a second and agree, "It was, wasn't it?"

"All that laughing made me hungry."

"Same." I rise from the ground, pushing my hood completely free from my face. "My ridiculous amount of incoordination could not have come at a better time."

We walk out into the hall at the same time Yusei comes from the bathroom. He hands me a bottle of ibuprofen. I grin and ask, "All of these? I dunno, Yusei. That might be a bit overkill."

He makes a face that's semi-glare, semi-smile and says nothing. Together, we travel back across the hall and take up seats at the table. Munch down a couple grilled cheeses and sip on a can of root beer.

"I just remembered I never showed you those parts," says Saiga mid-raise of his sandwich.

"What have you guys been doing all this time?" I laugh.

He takes the bite and gulps it down. "Other incredibly important manly things, of course."

"Manlier than getting together to gush over a car?"

"Touche."

"Well, it's not like we're in a rush." I turn my head to Yusei, smiling. "Right?"

He smiles back. "Right."

"Good," I announce to him, then more to myself, "Because I'm having a lot of fun."

Everyone's finished eating not long after that. Rally and I return to his room once more and finish looking at his deck. When that's done, he's perusing his room for something else to do. Although, it kind of looks more like he's stalling than actively searching.

"Rally." He jolts around to face me. "Need help?"

"Um..." The boy laughs, a sound as mechanical as the monsters in his deck. "Well..."

"What is it?"

"I was just thinking...you know, because you're a girl and have long hair..."

"...Yes?"

He shakes his hands in defense. "It's not anything weird! I mean...maybe it might be weird to you for me to ask but..."

"Try me."

"Do you know how to french braid?"

"French braid?"

"I said you would think it's weird," he responds, squishing his foot into the carpet.

"Rally," I chuckle. "That's probably the most normal thing I've heard all day. Yes, I know how to french braid. Want me to teach you?"

"Would you?" Rally's face brightens, eyes gleaming. I scoot back on his bed and pat the space in front of me. He grabs a brush from a desk drawer and hands it over when he hops onto the mattress. I remove his beanie as he says, "I've been trying to learn, but I can't seem to get it right. None of the guys know how and just tell me to cut my hair, but I like it long."

"I do too," I say, brushing the ends. "It's very pretty."

Rally turns slightly over his shoulder. "Y-you think my hair's pretty?"

"Very. It's got a unique color to it like I've never seen." I pause, waiting for Rally's comment. When all that comes is a neutral hum, I go on, "What made you want to learn how to french braid?"

"Some of the girls in my class come to school with their hair braided and I thought it looked really nice on them, so I wondered how it would look on me."

"I'm sure it will be beautiful." I scoop up three separate strands at the top of his head. "How do you like school? Is it going well?"

"It's good—I would have been there now, but the guys said I could skip since Yusei was visiting. Yeah, school's good, just really different from working."

My face creases in disgusted confusion. "You...used to work?"

"Mm-hmm. At the factory with everyone else." What the hell? This kid's twelve. Twelve. Kids at twelve should be sprinting off the gallons of sugar they consume, not working. "But I like school better because you don't come home smelling like garbage everyday."

"...That's always good."

"Yup. And at school you don't do the same thing for hours. You learn a whole bunch of things in one day. And there's recess!"

"Do you play with lots of other kids at recess?"

"Mm-hmm, we play kickball all the time. I'm a pretty fast runner, you know?" His tone blots with pride again.

"Wow. No, I didn't. Maybe we can race each other sometime."

"Okay, but I'll probably beat you."

"You'll definitely beat me," I scoff. "I'm finished by the way."

Rally flings his head around to look at me. "What? Already?"

"Yeah. Do you have a mirror?" He goes to the desk and pulls one out. We venture to the bathroom where I spin him around before the vanity mirror and hold the other up so he can get a good view of the back, then sit on the toilet. "You like?"

I take his blush as a yes.

"How did you do it?" he asks, still in awe.

"It's the same as normal braiding. You just have to start further up and take from the roots."

"But my hair's really thick and knotty."

"Have you seen this rat's nest?" I point to my wild curls. "See, the trick to avoid knots is to brush from the bottom up, not top to bottom like people with perfect hair do. And since it's thick, you just have to pull a bit harder to keep it together, but not so much it hurts of course."

"Oh. It looks really good, Maria." He flashes a smile my way. "Thanks a lot!"

"My pleasure." I watch him watch his reflection in the mirror a while longer. "Why did you think it would be weird to ask me about french braiding, Rally?"

"Well...because some people think it's weird for boys to have long hair."

"These people," I start, "are they at school?" He nods. "Well, it's not weird at all for a boy to have long hair. Back in the eighteenth century, most men had long hair. It was a sign of status and class."

"Really?"

"Yep. So this whole 'girls have long hair, boys have short hair' thing is so trivial. Hair is just hair and if it grows as long as yours, all it means is you've taken good care of it. You know my hair used to be really short?"

He sits on the tub's ledge. "How short?"

"Super short! I got one of those rolling hair brushes tangled in it and thought the only way to get it out was to cut it out. So, there I am, maybe age six and cutting this huge chunk of hair out right before I have to go to school in the morning."

"No way!"

"Yes way, and my mom was pissed. But, good news was that I ditched a whole day of school just for a haircut and an ice cream cone." I laugh. "Bad news was that I was stuck wearing a permanent helmet on my head twenty-four-seven for the better part of two years. And everyone thought I was a boy."

"Everyone thinks I look like a girl!"

"See? We even have mistaken identities in common. Except, whereas you're confident, I was shy like I said. But I was so shy that I would rather let people think I was a boy with a girly name than tell them otherwise."

"Huh." He slaps his feet against the tile flooring. "I guess my name is kinda boyish. Is that how you knew I was a boy?"

"Oh, no. That was just a lucky guess."

"Oh." Rally's mouth mushes to one side. "I thought maybe Yusei told you stuff about me."

"I'm sure he tells someone all about you, Rally. I don't see how he'd ever be able to stop." The smile comes back twice as bright. "That person's just not me, because Yusei and I aren't that close."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." My eyes squint in half. "You better not bring up that 'special' stuff again."

"I dunno~!" his voice lilts up and Rally directs his eyes away suggestively. "You two seem pretty close."

"Yusei and Jack and Crow are close. Yusei and I are just...similar. And just friends."

"If that's what you think~!"

"If you keep talking like that, I'm going to give you a bowl cut," I threaten, which results in the exact opposite of what I hoped. Rally continues smiling and stroking his braid maniacally. "Well...wha-what do you think?"

"I already told you and you don't like it."

"Yeah, because it's wrong!" I exclaim. "Yusei and I are buds...pals...bros! What you're insinuating...i-it just can't happen."

"Why?"

"Because!" And then I think about all the lies I could tell Rally that he will surely see through. I think about how pointless lying would be considering both of us would know the truth. I think about how I'd be right back in the hot seat if I do. Today has been the most honest day I've had in forever. Why not let the theme thrive on? "Because when you're in a relationship like the one you're talking about—and this is something you'll understand as you get older—but when you like someone at the capacity you're talking about, it's necessary to the relationship that you like yourself just as much."

"You don't like...?" Rally finally drops the playful tone and swaps it for a more quiet, concerned one. "Why don't you like yourself?"

"I can't really tell you why, other than that's just the way it's been for a really long time." I try smiling, but it falls flat not a moment later. "But...um, anyway. A romantic relationship shouldn't happen for someone who's not yet content with being on their own. Otherwise, it's like dooming something before it begins; that would make two people unhappy instead of one. So, even if I do like Yusei that way...did like Yusei that way, it's just not possible for us."

"I guess I see what you mean," he murmurs. "But what about in the future?"

"What about it?"

"If you're not happy now, you'll be happy in the future. And if you're happy in the future, you and Yusei can be together then!"

I shrug, not knowing what else to say. Rally leaps up and goes to the mirror again. I stare at my hands and dwell on today's stint of overwhelming honesty. Overwhelming, yet somehow relieving. I feel tired, but not like I'd pulled four all-nighters in a row tired. Sleepy, like I could curl up on a bed and nap.

But of course that won't happen—not with the familiar, low hum filling my ears. I lift my hood over my hair as I stand and say, "Rally, I have to use the bathroom. Could you wait outside a minute?"

He nods without a word and I lock the door behind him, then turn on the vent. Run the faucet and slide down the wall. Bang my head against it and shut my eyes. "Just one normal fucking day. Just. One. Day."

My gaze hitches on the stream of liquid running down the sink. It's like I'm hypnotized by the mere sight of it.

"Damn." Saiga taps his foot in an attempt to stomp the memory to the forefront of his brain. "Uh, I can't remember exactly what she said."

"It must have not been that inspirational if you can't remember it," Blitz jabs from the couch.

"No, no. Trust me, it was." Saiga takes a guzzle from his beverage and kicks his chair on its back legs. "She spoke to those kids like they were little warriors going in to battle—I even felt like I could kick a bit of ass. Ugh, what did she say?"

Yusei smiles to himself as he inspects the cylinder heads. At least half of the cylinders in Nayla's truck were misfiring or completely ruined from extended wear-and-tear. But the pieces sitting in this box seem fit enough to solve that issue.

"Look. I can't remember it word for word, but it was something like, 'Growing up on this side of the bridge won't be the end of your life anymore,' and 'You're all lucky to have people watching out for you because others don't.'"

"That sounds kinda aggressive and harsh," comments Nerve.

"I said it wasn't word for word." Saiga shrugs. "If you want the kiddie version, ask Maria herself."

"She doesn't seem to like us very much," Taka shouts unnecessarily, probably because most of his attention is focused on the television screen. "Except Rally."

"And Yusei," Saiga supplies, a wry grin gracing his face. He'd clearly been under Martha's influence a bit too often. "We can't forget ol' Casanova here."

Yusei looks across the table at the man with a blank expression of annoyance. Should he even bother to defend himself from the inevitable attack of mockery that is about to ensue?

Nerve: "Oh, yeah. Whatever did happen after she went downstairs?"

Saiga: "Only Yusei working his bad boy charm on her. I think he even made me swoon."

Blitz: "A real knight in shining armor, eh?"

Taka: "Oi. Whatever happened to your other girlfriend, Yus?"

Yusei sighs, clamps the case's lid shut, and stands. "I think I should get going."

"You see what you did, you dolt?" Nerve zooms over to the couch and squeezes the man's head between his palm. "Why is it so hard for you to think before you speak, huh?"

"I'm just curious! We all agreed she was hot, so I was just wondering—"

Blits slams a pillow into his roomate's face to shut him up. "No one wants to know what you were wondering, you desperate skeeze."

"Not that his new girl isn't pretty!" Taka declares after calling uncle. "I mean, she's weird pretty, but pretty."

"The fuck is 'weird pretty'?" asks Nerve. "You're just making shit up so Yusei's not mad at you."

Blitz holds up a hand to his chin in contemplation. "No, actually, I think I know what he means. Like those supermodels, yeah? Not the ones like Misty Lola, but the ones who kinda look like aliens and are still attractive?"

"Yeah! That's exactly it!" Taka nods, grinning like a dope.

"That's not a thing," Nerve disagrees with crossed arms. "She's either pretty or weird looking. Just admit you put your foot in your mouth and apologize to Yusei!"

The three men look behind them to see only Saiga sitting at the table, slurping his drink and arching an eyebrow. "Yusei? He left to the other apartment maybe two minutes ago."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"And interrupt this lovely, riveting example of how us men continue to perpetuate the degrading objectification of women everywhere and why women themselves say they would rather be surrounded by dogs than any of us?" Saiga blinks, then takes another sip of his tea and ends it with a resounding ah! "Why would I want to do something like that?"

Over in the other apartment, Yusei sits on the couch with Rally watching the same duel the others had been between Mukoro Enjo and a Turbo Duelist he'd never seen to buy time before Maria came out of the bathroom.

"I'm glad you came by today!" says Rally.

Yusei smiles down at the redhead. "I am, too. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Mm-hmm! And I'm glad you brought Maria with you. She's funny and she helped me french braid my hair. See?"

Yusei appraises the handiwork with a nod. "She did a good job. It fits you well."

"Thanks!" Rally shifts back in his seat and pumps his leg back and forth. "The next time you visit you should bring her again. Maybe the twins, too."

"Yeah. I'm sure they'd love that."

The chatter of the duel clogs the silence rising over the room. That is, until Rally says, "Yusei. What do you think of Maria?"

That catches the mechanic off his guard. His forehead creases pensively. "What do I think of her?"

"Yup!"

"Well." Yusei leans forward and plants his elbows on his kneecaps. "We're friends."

"And?"

Yusei eyes the grinning boy with suspicion, but speaks nothing of it. He was naturally an honest person, but children especially tugged the truth out of him with an alarming ease. "She's kind and warm."

"And funny."

"Yes, and funny," Yusei chuckles back. "She's got a good heart, but I worry sometimes she struggles to believe that."

The mechanic looks at his young friend again, awaiting his approval of the answer. Rally grins and responds, "I think you should tell her that. If you think she doesn't know, you should tell her so she does."

"I suppose I should, shouldn't I?" Yusei returns the expression and smooths his hand over the boy's head. Then he looks in the direction of the hallway. "How long has she been in the bathroom, Rally?"

"For a little bit, I guess. The vent's on, so I just figured she was pooping." Rally's face pushes together. "Girls poop, right?"

"I think I'll check on her." Yusei stands and goes to the only door on the left side of the hall, knocking. "Maria?"

No reply comes, so he knocks harder and waits again. When he turns the doorknob and feels the lock's resistance, he's sure something is wrong.

"WHAT THE FFFF—oh, it's a hand," I say, looking down. "Just a hand. Reaching through my chest. And now a bucket, too? Wonderful!"

I step out of the line of women at the well and scan the throng as I wander around. "C'mon, face-girl. Where are you at?"

Then I stop. The last time I had a vision of this place, the child was only a baby. I had never seen which sex it turned out to be, so why do I think it's a girl? I said that once before now, too—when I was thinking about her by the brook.

I shrug. Probably the reason I guessed Rally was a boy; it had to be one of the two. "Whatever. Just please hurry up and show me what you need to show me."

The child, as it turns out, is a girl. She's at the end of the line, a big gap separating her from the rest of the group. I ponder the reason as I look her up and down. She's probably as old as the twins, maybe fourteen at most. I'm not as confident in that as I was her gender, however; all the women here are short and curvy and look the same despite minor differences. The girl looks more unkempt than the others, though—her clothes sag on her frame more than average and her tangled hair sweeps over her drooped head.

I glance away from her still frame as the line moves forward. The girls directly in front of us keep looking over their shoulders at her and whisper things—my guess is insults—about her in their native tongue. She pays it no mind.

I raise my hand over her head, hesitate to lay it down, and lower it back to my side. "I'm sorry. You don't deserve this."

She raises her head in my direction and a shiver runs down my spine. Her bangs split apart enough to show her brown eyes, nearly as black as her hair and big. They're vacant to the center. They remind me of an owl's, almost.

Wait a fucking second... Is that why... What would she...

The girl hisses something under her breath. I think for a moment maybe she can actually see me, but my better judgment tells me to turn around. And then there's no need to guess anything. Because on a high branch in a nearby tree of the circle surrounding the well is an owl—the owl. My owl that terrorizes me in my dreams. The same oil-black feathers, yet smaller and much less ferocious. The eyes aren't gold, but I'm positive it's the one.

The girls ahead of us see it too and bunch up together in the line, moving farther away from us. Face-girl lowers her head again and takes some dozen steps back. After what seems like hours of waiting, she makes it to the well. There's no one left but us.

The owl's perched on the top of the well's tower now. It and the face-girl have a staring contest as she pulls up her buckets. Then, she spits at the animal and runs away, water sloshing out in a trail as she goes.

The scene begins to fade, gold dust wiping away the scenery. "Finally. Thank you!"

But my mind's not finished toying with me yet. The ground beneath my feet fades, but the heavens remain. Gradually, the sun moves into its descent. The moon rises in its place, casts its false, pale light over the land and sleeps when the sun rises again. The cycle happens over and over, as if the sky has spun a wheel and awaits time's decision. As it finally settles into broad daylight, I'm so dizzy I'm sitting down on the black void and clutching my head between my palms.

I look up when I hear the hubbub of people, lots of them. Rows of market-stands sit as well with many faceless customers strolling about the paths between them. There's a commotion behind me and of course it's the girl. She's somewhat taller and her hair reaches down to her lower back, so maybe a couple years older than before. Although, she looks worse—her dresses are torn in places and there are discolored splotches on her skin.

All she's doing is walking. Walking down the path the same as the other villagers and yet, her experience is like no one else's. Most people simply try to stay out of her way as she comes through, but there are others who take the liberty of greeting her presence with rotten food and other miscellaneous objects. Some soft enough to burst at the slightest touch and others...let's just say I know why she's covered in bruises.

And it keeps happening. The sky doesn't change, but I know it's a different day by the subtle differences—the myriad colors of the girl's skin, the various tunics she wears, what people throw at her. I notice that with every passing day, the owl watches over her. It grows larger and larger.

"Why?" I sniffle. I feel like I'm crying but when I reach up to dry the tears, there are none. "Why are you showing me this? I don't...I don't want to watch this... Please, just take me home. I just want to go home, so please make it stop... Please!"

Just like that, the girl halts. Everything else follows suit, too. And I think maybe...just maybe for once things go as I want them to. I think that my hopes, my wishes, my pleas have been answered.

But then, of course, life would just be going too well for me.

The girl turns around, facing me and the way she came. Directly in the middle of the path before her is a man cackling his head off because he had chucked an exceptionally large stone at her head. The bastard could've killed her and truthfully I don't know how she's still standing—no average person would be.

He's so busy chortling the action off he doesn't realize she's walking back to him. Half the crowd has fled the scene of impending danger and the others stay to see what she'll do. Somehow, I already know—the minute I watch her pick up the same heaping rock he threw, I know exactly what's coming to the man. In a second, I'm standing in the gap between them, grovelling just like the man in front of her.

"Please, don't do this. Please! I know he's the bottom of the barrel. He is human dirt and scum and disease, but please don't do this. This will change you. You will never be able to come back from this. You will never forget this! So please please please don't do this to yourself... Don't do this to me...please. I'm begging you. Please!"

The girl glances at the rock, tosses it a couple times and rolls it around. When she looks at me...through me and at him, the girl's eyes flash with happiness. She smiles, pats his cheek, and whispers something that makes him freeze.

Then she winds back her arm and drives the stone into his skull, the dull thunk! lifting into the air before the screams do. I crawl back, my heart sobbing. She straddles him once he's down and uses both hands, full force. Thunk!...thunk!...thunk! I push my palms into my eyes and just sit there, listening. Thunk!...thunk!

The hollers stop, so hesitantly, I pull my hands away. The girl stands up from the mess she's made of what used to be the man's head. Her tunic's hardly the off-white it was minutes before. Now it's red all over. On her arms, her neck, her face. Everywhere.

With one hand, she pushes back her bangs, smearing more blood onto her forehead and in her hair. Then the girl steps over him and toward one of the stands. There's no one left selling behind it, so she stocks two bags full of fruits and vegetables and leaves the bloodied rock there as payment.

When she crosses paths with the owl, she raises her arm out to it. The bird swoops down to land on her hand and hops up her arm until it rests on her shoulder.

They walk away after. Out of view and into clouds of gold. And that's that.

I was crying, I realize. I am crying. I can feel the salty waters streak down my face, drip under my chin and down my neck. And then I feel a sudden cluster of warmth on my cheek. It rubs the tears away and automatically I lean into it, push my own palm up to it so it amplifies itself. The source curls around my fingers and tightens once.

The faucet's off. After blinking a couple times, my vision focuses in on the non-existent line of water. Then my gaze lowers to the person across from me. It's Yusei. It's his crazy hair sticking up on all ends. It's his eyes steeled with concern. It's his hand in mine.

Hours before now, this would have bothered me. The fact that it's Yusei and not Martha or Mom would have unsettled me. But right now, I don't care. The only thing I do care about is not being alone. And this man before me?

He had made sure I wasn't.

So, I spring forward and collapse into him. My arms wrap around his neck as I bury my face into his collarbone. The storm comes full force—not the ugly, gasping sobs of this morning. But quiet, airy sniffles of the now.

"It was so horrible," I breathe into him. "It was so bad."

One of Yusei's arms draw me close around the waist, his hand moving in circular motions on my back. The other palm spreads over my hair, protecting my head like one does a child.

In my ear, he whispers, "But you're here now. It's over and you're here now. You're safe."

—

I sit on the D-Wheel's leather seat and stare at my hands. I rise from the bike when Yusei walks over with a box in his hands. He peels back the seat and once he removes our helmets, somehow the case fits in it. I stare into glossy black coating of my helmet and at my warped reflection. Yusei stands beside me, waiting.

"Do..." I clear my throat and begin again, meekly, "Do they hate me?"

Yusei is silent for a moment, but I don't dare look at him. "I don't think anyone could hate you, Maria," replies his silky soft tone.

"Right." I nod to myself and lower the helmet. I try to smile for him, but I don't think I do it justice. "Right. Anyway, if they're going to hate either one of us, it would be you since you broke down their bathroom door."

The faintest smile arises to his lips. "Obviously."

And we continue standing, Yusei waiting for me to find my words and me trying to find the voice to say them. "Um...about...about what happened in there..."

"That's alright. You don't have to explain it to me."

"No, that's... I realized something in there." I blow out a breath. "I realized that I never thanked you for what you did in the forest—the first time, when you rescued me. So, thank you...for that and this."

"Of course." He smiles more genuinely this time around. "But you don't have to thank me."

I insist, "But I do. I do because I've been such a shitty friend to you in the past and I just...I-I wanna do better." I don't want to end up alone.

"You do enough." He raises a hand to my arm, runs it down then up again to my shoulder, and lets go. "You do more than enough."

"Maybe." I shrug. "But still. And thanks for accepting my apology, too. I wasn't so confident you would."

Yusei smirks. "Did you think it would be that easy to get rid of me?"

"Of course not, but a girl can try, can't she? After all, we both know there is only room for one of us. One true alpha, one King of Turbo Duels." I laugh at how utterly dumb I must sound. God, I think my brain is fried. My gaze slides back to the man in front of me. Why are you doing that again?

"Doing what?"

"Huh?"

"You said I'm doing something."

I grimace and murmur, "That was out loud? Are you sure?"

Yusei nods, smirk-smiling. Yep, my brain's definitely gone. But if that's the case, it's not like I've got anything to lose. At least now, I won't be able to overthink and create boundaries for myself.

"Sometimes when we talk, you...you make this face and it's subtle but it's...different."

"Hm." He glances off to the side. "I wasn't aware."

"I figured that." I spin the helmet as a way to knock off my nerves. "But can I know...uh, will you tell me what you were thinking about?"

Yusei stares at me. "Maybe one day."

"No, today. Today is the day. I mean, I literally just cried my heart out to you. C'mon, you owe me this." He continues to put up a front, so I stare back, the only thing moving between us are my jiggling eyebrows. "Can't resist these bad boys, can you?"

Again, he says nothing. But I keep doing it because...well, why else do I do stupid stuff? Usually because it makes me feel better! So, in a very peculiar and kind of expected turn of events, the only one of us who elicits a reaction to my dancing brows is myself.

"Your laugh," he says out of nowhere. "How refreshing it is to hear you laugh. How beautiful you are when you're laughing."

It's not that the compliment is dissatisfactory to my expectations or that it means nothing or even that he says it wrong.

It's what I feel that's the issue—the feeling I had just after I returned from the vision. Not the needy, starving version I felt as I cried in his arms. It's something like that, but on the opposite side of the spectrum. Muted. Monochromed. Drained of all its vigor. Like my appetite had been quenched, although I've picked nothing to fill its stomach.

Yet I have. It feels like I've already decided. My body, my mind, my heart—they've all decided for me.

"I'm really tired now. Can you just take me home, please?"

I don't care. I just don't care.

Precious Crab-Dad: "Golly, that's a pretty laugh ya got there."

Done™ ️Star-Fish Child: "Fuck off."

IF ONLY THE STOOPID CRAB WOULD REALIZE HOW SMOOTH HE IS MY GOD HE WOULD BE DROWNING IN WOMEN/MEN/D-WHEELS UGHHHHH! But also, what a flipping troll...I love him so much.

I don't know about you guys but I was definitely disappointed with how in the second half of 5Ds there was none of Yusei's old pals. Like, I'm aware it was just crappy writing but, as far as character development stands, it suggests that Yusei "upgraded" his friends; Martha and the kids appear, Kiryu gets a whole mini arc—why were Yusei's old pals short-handed? With how many fillers there are, the writers could have at least put one scene of him with Rally and the guys. Honestly, I would even take a scene of just Yusei and Rally—their relationship was the most important of the show's start. Why was this beautiful child thief forgotten about?! So, obviously, I had to make a chapter to fill that hole in my heart and set things right!

Okie dokes, thanks for all the love pretties! You guys keep me going :) Sorry about all the sadness...that will continue to happen! TTFN