Just a Girl

by tushmonkey

Maria Takanashi is average. Average teenager living in a small town no one cares about. That is, until her mother dies and Maria has no one. Now it's two months later and Maria is off to New Domino to find family she's never met. But weird things start happening just as Maria settles in to her new life, and these weird things may make Maria into more than just a girl. YuseixOC.

57. Chapter 56

I know we're 56 chaps deep in this hoe, but I'm gonna start replying to reviews because I feel shitty for not doing so earlier and only doing it in my other fic!

dreamsleeves42: I think "BEST FANFIC WRITER IN THE UNIVERSE" is jumping the gun a bit, but Imma take it anyway~! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoy this one just as much!

AlphaReader: I know everyone hates me for giving a fantasy kiss, but in my defense I thought I wrote it in a way that made it obvious! Also, after 55 chapters, I would never shortchange all of you with a measly line and a half about a kiss between our two favorite dweebs, not in my house no siree. BUT as reparations for everyone's pain, I will say that the real kiss is only a few chapters away. There's just a lot of shit we need to trudge through to make it happen, so the chaps will be pretty long I think. AND I added a lot of fluff to this one!

On another note, thanks for your comments about perspectives. I like to use it as a tool to switch things up and challenge my writing skills. Especially in writing first POV, I think the rhythm can get repetitive. And though I love 5Ds, I wish there was more of the side characters perspectives shown. With stoic characters like Yusei, I often find that they are best told through subtlety. Eventually there's going to be points where things need to be spelled out (e.g. with Yusei's thoughts about Maria) because he's a hard dude to read, but until then I think we get a lot of info from him in the little things he says and does & like you said, other close friends' interpretations of his action/words.

I'm not going anywhere anytime soon ha! I've spent probably close to 10 years on this story if we're including first draft, which is crazy to me because that's half of my life. So StarCrab is happening, shit's gonna go down, and the story is getting finished even if it kills me lol!

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I wake up to the nipping frost of the ground beneath me. I rise up from the ground, through the low-hanging layer of fog, and stare at the figure standing before me. It's the same scene as the last dream: her hair shading over her dour expression, the tornado of black smoke lurching behind her, and the stark scenery encompassing us.

I don't stand and I don't crawl away from her. I stay in my place on the ground despite the chill of it eating away at my skin. There is no point, because I already know what she will ask.

On cue: "Do you know who I am?"

I realize then, by the sound of my calm voice, how little this all scares me now. "You're me."

The girl clears her bangs from her face and eyes me, her expression changing none. All she does is dissipate away and into the fog sitting around me. The twisting cloud behind her stays, plowing into the ground once its balance is found. The thorny trees shed their little pricks and wind back into the thick ivy of the maze, the leaves and marigolds brightening the dim light. The light itself grows warmer, sepia-tinted. Lush grass sprouts in place of the frost underneath me, a surprising feat for the dirt that appeared too unwelcoming to even attempt such a thing.

Four strong legs claw into the land as the cloud lets up. A stocky body starts to solidify, velvety spots of black, brown, and rust shining in the sunlight. I await whatever is to come from it, determined to meet it head on. Regardless of the pleasant change in setting, I can't be sure if this new presence will be good or bad. But I can't be afraid.

The spindle narrows into a squared head and finally settles into nothing. I can only stare at the big cat, slack-jawed. The panther glares me down with eyes that mirror my own.

Annie.

---

Now that I'm truly awake, I should probably get up. But I lay in the sheets a bit longer, trying to remember. We were at practice, the guys pressured Yusei into a duel against Team Unicorn, my mark started glowing. Blank. I'm drawing a blank on anything else after that.

My head started feeling heavy or something—heavier than it feels now, I think. Like it was full of water and none of it would spill out no matter how hard I tried.

That's what it was. I felt like I was drowning and being dragged down farther and farther away from my own body. My own consciousness. There was another entity in my head, watching me. Well, until it decided to take the wheel from me. That's why I can't remember, because after we met eye-to-eye, it pushed me in the backseat.

Not it. Annie.

I raise up on my elbows, my stare meeting the shadowed vanity mirror across the room. I get up for real, flick on the room's light, and go over to it. If there were any traces of the old Maria Takanashi left behind before, there certainly aren't anymore. My eyes, the oldest amendment to my original design, are one of the only constants in my appearance; still the inhuman citrine-yellow they were before. They manage to be the most familiar, unlike my hair. The curly mass is still sandy blonde on the lower layers, yet the parts closest to my roots are a mix of honey and gold, like some reverse ombre.

Of all three noticeable changes, it's my skin that shakes me the most. And I think it's because my deeper, richer olive tone reminds me a lot of Mom. People often wished to be paler, but I always thought she had the prettiest skin. One of the farmers—one of the many that had crushes on her—had told her once that she had skin finer and smoother than the world's best brandy.

I was always upset that my father spoiled my inheritance of that, but it seems I was destined to get it another way.

My hand raises over my shoulder, grazes along the edges of the Lichtenberg figure. I peel my tank top off by the bottom edge to get a better look since the neck is too high. It has been a while since I've seen the thing; it feels like forever ago that I was lying on that forest floor, unknowingly fighting for my life. Still the irritated pink it was, the epicenter of the figure lays over the left half of my chest. All of the fine veins clutter and crawl from the point over to my shoulder or up my collarbone. I poke at it and wince a little—it hurts like I'd just got it all over again.

I jump at the door swinging open. In my spooked state, my powers brighten the bulbs both overhead and in the bedside lamp until they burst. I shield my eyes until all the glass settles on the tile flooring and look to the doorframe.

"Rua!" I gasp, watching my step as I move toward the boy. "Are you alright?"

I thank the heavens for how unnecessarily big this room is when he affirms, "Yeah, I think—"

Rua doesn't finish the statement. He just stands in place, body frozen despite the heat burning up his face. My browline wrinkles together, baffled. Then I follow his line of sight straight to my sports bra. My hands fly up from my sides and over my breasts.

Doing my best to remain calm, I tell him through gritted teeth, "Close the door."

He steps into the room and shuts the door in a single, brisk motion. I fix him with a pressured look as my lips roll into a pursed line. Take a deep breath. Yell at him in a whispered voice: "With you on the other side, Rua!"

The little duelist puts a hand up over his eyes and reaches for the door knob at the same time. He finally finds it and escorts himself out after a final peek through his finger. The largest exhale escapes my lungs once he's left. Planning to sweep up the glass later, I put on my shirt again and hop through the shards to the door.

I hear Aki rebuking the boy as I walk down the stairs and through the hall. "I told you not to go in there! You need to listen!"

"I saw the light! I just figured someone should check up on her," he grumbles and plops down in his seat between Yusei and his sister, a frown plastered into his skin.

Aki meets my eye as I enter the room and she sends me an awkward smile. Actually, as I turn to just about everyone scattered between the dining area and living room, they give me variations of the same reaction. And that, folks, is the key to feeling isolated in a room full of people. Though I give Aki an A for trying to mend the weird shift in atmosphere by welcoming me into her arms, the effect is lasting. I can only manage to return the hug with a limp hand to her back.

"We're happy you're okay." She holds me at arm's length, almost like she's never seen me before. Oh, wait. The changes, maybe they happened in the time after they laid me to rest. Feeling particularly morbid, aren't we? "There's pizza if you're hungry."

I follow Aki's index fingers to the dining table where Bruno and Crow shelter what remains of three huge, greasy pies. I approach slowly, Bruno's previous caution around me coming back to mind, and hope everyone dismisses it as typical post sleep zombie-walking. The jumpy giant in question seems pretty glued together as I sit next to my brother; Bruno stops mid-chew to send a forced smile my way. (But, you know, that "forced" part might not have anything to do with me since his face is so stuffed with pizza he looks like a human chipmunk.)

"What," Crow says as I go for a couple slices of cheese, "we don't get to see?"

Looks like my whispered yell was more yell than whisper. That, or Rua's mortified cheeks gave us away. I roll my eyes toward him before taking a bite. "I will rip out every single one of your piercings right here and now."

Crow's eyebrows shoot up, mockingly impressed. "Baby's grouchy after her nap, I see."

"You're annoying," I laugh.

He kicks back in his chair and rips a bite out of his square slice. "What else is new."

Isn't that the million-dollar question? After Annie possessed me, all recollection of what happened went to her...wow. I can't believe that is a sentence...said in present day and in all seriousness. My cat that is some extraordinary supernatural being possessed me, another extraordinary supernatural being and did god knows what while she was in my body.

I drop my pizza on the napkin I'd substituted as its plate and stare at it for a brief moment, as if my brain can no longer comprehend the complexities of the cheese, tomato sauce, and dough that make up the little concoction. Then a snort comes out and, as if a dam is broken, a gush of giggles plows through the rubble. It's the only sound in the entire flat. Nonetheless, even with my own laughter grating on my ears, I can't stop until it's all out of my system.

"I don't think... Was this the reaction we were expecting?" Bruno asks the room, confused as always. I can't say I blame him this time around.

"I—I'm sorry," I wheeze, my hand raised. "I'm just trying to understand the coked-up shoujo manga plot that is my life right now."

The crowd is still quiet, whether because they're lost in their own internal turmoil or watching me work through mine. When I've finally traveled through the spectrum of emotions, from hysterics to sheer stupidity, I can sit up straight and properly address them all.

"What the fuck, guys?"

Everyone's eyes shifts to someone else, no one really knowing where to jump off from. But Crow tries. "Yeaaaaahh," he says, cringing. "It's a lot."

He moves the three of us at the table over to the couches with the others. Not really feeling like being shoulder-to-shoulder with anyone, I find myself on the floor at the head of the coffee table.

"Just to put it out there," I begin, "I don't remember what happened."

It's funny that I used to feel like my own memories were being sucked straight out of my brain with a bendy straw when, upon new evidence, that's much closer to the truth than ever imagined.

"We didn't think that you would," Aki responds.

An eyebrow quirks on instinct, but lowers soon after. It makes sense why that would be the go-to with my track record.

"You looked different," Ruka comments, her voice softer than usual.

"Oh." I pull at a strand of my hair and try to smile, but it just turns into a lopsided purse of the lips. "Yeah, the color scheme's been reformatted again."

Aki shakes her head. "No, looked—past tense. You...you weren't yourself."

"Your eyes were...frightening," Bruno gulps. "They were like—here!"

The tech whiz opens his jacket and out of all the little rows of tools he has inside, he plucks a pen from a line. Clicking it and pulling a random napkin to him, he doodles away. If he wasn't nifty with electronics, I think Bruno would have a solid career as an artist, maybe for comic books or cartoons. I'd glanced over his shoulder quite a few times while he was scribbling at some sketch of a machine or caricature of one of the guys. Can't say I'm not envious; my stick figures don't even look proportionate.

In any case, he slides the napkin over to me hardly a minute later. Though I'm fairly certain I'm holding some combination of recyclable material in my hands, the eyes on it look like they have a life of their own. They do, really, because they belong to Annie. Intense, skinny, black pupils with no discernible barrier separating the iris and sclera. I can only assume they were gold like mine.

"That thing on your shoulder was glowing," Jack tosses in, "along with your hands."

Rua picks it up for clarification, "Two different colors, though. Gold on your hands, like always—although, there was static coming from them, too. And the figure was blue."

I don't look anywhere specifically, my mind trying to process the information without going into overload. But a hand does raise to my shoulder, resting gingerly on the vein-like cluster. Blue? What significance did that have? My Other gave me the figure, so does the color apply to something about it—a mark?

"If we're being honest," Crow's voice cuts through my thoughts, "that ain't even the weirdest thing. You were saying all these words in this robot voice."

"...Words?" I think back to my dream, to the clarity I felt as Annie dragged me down.

"Just random words. You were chanting them over and over again."

They weren't random, they couldn't be. If Annie was quick and powerful enough to steal my own body from me, she couldn't have just been spouting nonsense. Whether she was incapable of body-snatching before or she had never bothered to try, why would she spend the time rambling?

We...are...here.

Unless she was trying to tell them the same thing she had told me and just couldn't. I mean, that would make sense, right? The only spirits I've ever heard speak are Ancient Fairy Dragon and Zephyrus—one of the many right hands to an ancient celestial being and a spirit that probably rivals said ancient celestial being in age, respectively. She's a cat, so maybe she didn't always know how to speak? And if on the odd chance she did, was it a language humans know, one that translates beyond the confines of my dream-world? What if she's only spoken some archaic tongue, like the Other?

I flip the napkin to its blank side and gesture for Bruno's pen. I ask the group if they can remember any of the words, which they do with effort and some ping-ponging off one another. I jot them all down, fill in the repeating letters with the same words. When I'm done, I stare at it, all of my thoughts confirmed.

I can feel the gang's anticipation pricking at me like tiny needles. It's the worst acupuncture job in history. Instead of worrying how to frame the truth, I just let the cat out of the bag: "They weren't random."

My eyes finally make the shift for the tense circle of bodies. "It's called a spelling alphabet. They're used all the time in the military and," my voice falters as I come across my next words, "radio signals."

Static, like the fuzzy and warped sound of my mark or like the tendrils of electricity that supposedly came from my hands. Electricity, a force shared with all the little machines I affect.

What did we say about coincidence, kids?

"And you know this how?" Jack jabs with his forceful tone. I decide to take it as his special way of showing curiosity or, dare I even say, concern.

"My knowledge at this point is just an accumulation of strange and random facts." I give a halfhearted smirk. "Anyway, in spelling alphabets, you assign specific words to represent a letter: A is alpha, B is beta, all the way til Z. When you combine all of the first letters of those assigned words, you make a whole new word or message."

I hold the napkin up, show them Annie's acrostic message, and tell: "'We are here.' They weren't random. She was trying to communicate."

Yusei speaks up for the first time, his mouth frowning as he catches on, "She?"

I look to him, not even in response to his voice but just to feel a bit of that calm courage he always carries in his heart. Once I've gathered a handful, I take a deep breath and face everyone again.

"When my mark was glowing, all I saw was darkness and all I felt from the chin down was...raging water. And then, something grabbed onto me—dragged me way, way down. It wasn't until we reached the very bottom that she made me look her in the eye. Eyes that turned from blank, white holes," I point at Bruno's sketch once more, "to these, exactly. Annie's eyes."

I stare down at the coffee table, the glass and metal winking at me in the light. Annie's echoing voice bounces off my ears, over any reactions the group may be giving. We...are...you. All of her variations come to my mind, from the small kitten she once was to the great wild cat she will undoubtedly be. Her eyes, my eyes.

Our mind.

"We have been looking at this all wrong."

"How...do you mean?" Aki questions, quietly.

I glance at her, but end up addressing Ruka instead. "At the streetlamp, you said you thought Annie and I were connected in a way that is opposite to my Other. I think you are right."

To everyone, I recite the explanation Ancient Fairy Dragon told me all those eons ago: "Born of man and star, a being of both human," I refer to myself with a hand over my heart and lay the other on Annie's eyes, "and spirit. We are a Star Child."

The room is still, but I can tell they believe me. Even if I'm wrong, it's a damn good argument.

"It's like your powers," Ruka gasps. "When you call spirits from their cards, you bring them to this plane in a physical form. But Annie doesn't have a card, so maybe your bond with her acts as a...um..."

"A tether," Yusei finishes for her. "You ground her here."

If that is true, then where is she? Martha and the kids hadn't seen her since her last drop-in. In her most recent state, she is certainly too big to be mistaken for a housecat while wandering the city streets.

"Oh my god." As I jump up, the realization sends both my brain and my energy buzzing. At least, this time the overhead light only flickers a few times before becoming an unshakable gleam. My gaze lowers back to the myriad pairs of eyes sitting down and, once I'm sure they're all fine, I continue my mission of pacing in front of the terrace doors. And, we've eventually come round full circle to hysterics. "Oh my god oh my god oh my fucking god!"

"Maria?" someone calls to me, but neurons are firing so fast right now I can't quite make out who.

"Sorry. Not a scared or worried exclamation." I plant my feet in place and hold up my fists to them. For the first time in a long time, I feel hope in between my fingertips. "Houston, we have a fucking breakthrough."

"I dig the energy, sis," Crow says, a lilt of amusement in his tone, "but what the hell are you saying?"

I breathe in and out, the motions bringing a smile to my lips. "It all makes so much sense. Let's say that we are right: not only are Annie and I are two halves of a whole, but since she is the spirit, I tether her to our world. Everyone on the same page right now? Because it's about to get bonkers in here."

One unified nod is sent my way and so too does the assuring, sturdy voice of the Signer's Head. "Try us."

"If I am her tether, that means she only has two options to choose from: here," I point at the ground, at our world, then point to myself, "or here."

"How else would she get control over your body," Aki comments, eyes alighting. "And all the times she's disappeared!"

Jack tacks on, "To think all this time, she was pretending to be a cat doing cat-shit."

"No, I think she genuinely is a cat, Jack—which brings me to me next, crazier point. Eventually, her mind control wore off and before I woke up, I had one of my dreams. I've had it over and over again since I got here. Do you remember when we talked about it?"

Aki's copper irises widen at the sight of my finger jutting in her direction. Her countenance calms some, thinking. "Oh! We were talking about you being precognitive or retrocognitive."

I nod. "And you said that it could be neither because it was too early to tell."

"And I was right?" Aki grins.

"I think so." I return the expression. "In my dream, I'm in a maze and it's always changing; sometimes it's scary and dark, other times it's bright and beautiful. But no matter what, I have always felt that something was in that maze with me. And it's her, sitting in the back of my mind!"

"Maybe that's why it changes," Aki offers. "The fact that it's a dream to begin with, your feelings about Annie, about being a Star Child—all of that and even other things could affect your perception of the maze."

"But that's the thing. In this version, it seemed like everything was the way it was supposed to be. I don't know what version of Annie it was that you both saw in that white room with Sherry," I say to Yusei and Bruno, "but the version I just saw is the one I think she is supposed to be—a wild cat, some panther."

"So the sky-high, shadow whatever isn't what she really looks like?" I shake my head at the blue-haired man. "Well, that's a relief. I can like cats again."

"It's like Aki said: it's all interpretation. I've been so scared of what's been happening to me and out there in the world, you know, and I think it warps my perception of the maze, Annie." But I can't be afraid anymore. I have to trust my gut. "In the past, I always thought the goal was to get out of the maze alone—alive—but I'm starting to think the goal is to learn how to exist inside the maze with her!"

She was never the owl. She was never even the girl. She was always just Annie.

"The maze is your brain?" Rua pipes up, awed at his own detective work. I reward him with a smile.

"Think about it, guys! What else is a maze other than..." I pull back the chunky strap of my tank as far as it can go and point at the Lichtenberg figure with an excited smile. "Other than this, a network of branching paths leading to who knows where—t-to other spirits or other mind-worlds."

Crow leans forward as his elbows meet his knees, his trademark grin shining through. "With you and Annie at the center, in your head."

"Maria," Yusei calls to me. His focused stare lifts from the coffee table, eyes clear as a sunny day. "I think that's your key to finding Zephyrus."

"Pursue the bond between you and Zephyrus...You would not have your mark if you could not walk its path." Whether or not Ancient Fairy Dragon intended it, spirit syntax lends itself a little too well to puns. But Yusei is right. Zephyrus had not been with the Spirit World for centuries and wherever he is, my mark bearer is incredibly tricky to pin down; if he isn't in the Graveyard, which we have no way of knowing.

Regardless, it's a start.

I look toward Ruka to share with her the good news about Ancient Fairy Dragon's foreshadowing, but the girl I see is not one I would think to see after uncovering so many questions. Her hands clutching the ends of her shorts hard, hunched over shoulders, bowed head—everything about this picture is wrong.

I'm quick to round the couch to get to her on the opposite end without going through Yusei and her brother, then kneel in front of her. "Ruka? What's wrong?"

She sniffles and I realize it's much worse than I had even thought. In my current state, I vow to only get this close, enough for her to be aware that I'm right in front of her but risking nothing more. She is already hurting. But that promise is broken immediately when she grips my hand in hers and fixes me with those eyes the size of blooming sunflowers.

"I'm so sorry," she sobs. "I should have said something sooner."

I know an anxiety attack when I see one, but what I can't figure out is why this twelve year old in front of me is having one.

"Oh, baby girl, why are you sorry? Why are you crying?"

The youngest Signer's voice breaks as she tells, "It knew where you were—where we all were, and Annie was the only one that saw it. How did your Other know, if not for the maze?"

Oh. That's all I have time to register her assumption as.

"I should have said it when Ancient Fairy Dragon called me, but I was just too scared."

The blame game.

I put my other hand over hers, squeeze. "Ruka, no. There was no way you could have known about the maze. Those spirits, they're so confusing."

"Not that." She gives a minute shake of her pigtails and frowns. "Our cards."

I look to Yusei for clarity, but when he glances from the gulping girl to me, I see that blue sky in his eyes is shrouded in dark clouds. There was something more to the story of that practice course, one that has the Signers' names written all over it. But whatever it is, it will never compare to Ruka's wellbeing.

Yusei gets up from the couch. "It's late."

I glance at the clock and piggyback off the statement, "That's right. It's way your guys' bedtime. Let's just call it a night, okay?"

The twins rise without anymore convincing, Ruka's hands already grabbing hold of her brother's. Yusei raises a glove to my shoulder, stops me from going with them. "I'll take them."

In the short span it takes for Yusei to escort the siblings out and Ruka to replace my hand with his, I wonder if this was a routine at any point before I came into the picture. Yusei had lived with them for a time during and after the Signers' War. Perhaps his knowledge of dealing with anxiety attacks wasn't a miracle, just experience.

Even after the trio has disappeared, I whisper my panic to everyone else: "What was that about? My Other?"

Crow responds first, "Ruka thinks Annie saw your Other on top of the building. Not to say that we think she's wrong—it's just...there was a lot going on."

"Our decks were glowing these weird colors," Aki specifies, "colors that resembled our Signer Dragons."

Jack gives a snippet of commentary amongst the fray: "They looked like flames, kinda like when you do your spirit-talking thing."

"And it's been confirmed: Rua's a Signer. I don't know what mark it was that was on his arm, but it was one of ours." Aki sighs as she winds a finger in one of her long threads of hair, worried. "Even his deck glowed like ours."

There were only supposed to be five Signers, if legend and the word of a psychotic manipulator by the name of Godwin were to be trusted. But maybe, just like with me and my newfound Other, the game could always be changed.

"Ancient Fairy Dragon must have said something to her about those flames when Ruka ended up in the hospital." Bruno's crestfallen expression hits the floor. "I hope she's okay."

"She will be." Crow nods to himself, to us all. "She's got her brother and she's got us."

"Maria."

We all startle at the sound of my name. Yusei stands at the mouth of the hall and Aki's quick to ask, "Is she alright?"

"They're fine," he says, relief floating along his airy words. The noir-haired man gives everyone a glance over until his eyes come to me. "They asked for you."

I practically run to him and see the twins coming out of their rooms, dressed in their pajama sets. I lean down in front of them both and lay a hand on each of their rosy cheeks.

"Can we sleep in your room?" Rua asks on both their behalf.

"Of course, nuggets. Oh, but there's still glass on the floor."

From over my shoulder, I hear Yusei affirm, "I'll get the broom."

He doesn't see the smile I shoot him as he walks away. I turn back to the twins with that. "How about you two go wash up and brush your teeth while Yusei cleans up, okay?"

They walk to the downstairs bathroom hand-in-hand. In the meantime, I extend an invitation to the rest of the group to stay the night. Invitation or none, they were going to. Aki was smart to keep a spare school uniform in my closet and some toiletries in my bathroom in cases like these; we would have to get up earlier so she could run and get her bag from home, though. It's hard to believe that after all the calamity of today, they still have things like school to worry about. Maybe a good night's rest would work its magic on the twins, but if they still aren't feeling up to it in the morning I won't push them to go.

For the rest of the gang, they make arrangements on who sleeps where. Aki and Bruno get the twins' rooms, because Aki's the only other girl and Bruno gets the sympathy pick since he never gets to sleep in a bed. (By that, I mean Crow and I give him the sympathy pick, not blond Simba. Though, I'll cut the primadonna some slack by saying he didn't put up as much of a fight as I expect him to.) Crow and Jack make do on the couches with some pillows and blankets.

Then it's lights out.

It's not until Yusei comes down the stairs that I realize I forgot about him.

"I got as much of it as I could see," he says. Right, sweeping broken glass from the only lights in the room at one in the morning.

I smile. "Thank you."

When he returns from putting the broom away, I make to ask him about where he'll sleep. The door to the bathroom opens before I get to it. Rua and Ruka appear to have shrunken when they look up at us.

"Ready for bed?" I ask them.

Ruka goes for my hand, along with her brother's and nods. If she had a third, it would be wrapped around Yusei's. She settles for asking instead, "Will you stay, too? Like you used to?"

Yusei lowers to their level, his features softening as he smiles his answer. "I was planning on it."

The siblings smile back at him and Rua, acting as an extension of his sister, reaches his hand out for Yusei's. And our little train of people chugs up the stairs to my room. I tell them that I want to change into pajama shorts and pull my hair up by a thick scrunchie while in the bathroom. Yusei's sitting on the edge of the bed and watching over the pair when I rejoin them.

"Do you need something to change into?" I offer.

I don't really like going into their room, borrowing their stuff without permission, but the twins' parents aren't here to tell me not to. Yusei would never fit into anything of mine, anyhow.

"No," he responds, "I'm good."

I crawl into bed and I'm surprised when Yusei opts for the floor. Trust me when I say it isn't for the fact that all my hopes and dreams would be fulfilled by saying I slept with Yusei Fudo. The bed is just large enough to fit all four of us. But I figure if he wanted to, he would. He planned on staying, but I wonder if he planned to sleep at all.

In the stream of light pouring through the curtains, I watch the twins snuggle into each other. I run my hands over them, their precious heads and down their backs. Remind myself that these hands of mine are capable of more than just destruction. Electricity did not always have to be quaking thunder, but a vibrating hum.

I remember the night that Ruka woke me up and asked me to sing her a lullaby, how Rua's teeny foot woke me up again later that morning. It was not fair that they had to fill each other's mind with noise, just so that they could drown out all the pain in our cruel world. That was not a child's job. It's a parent's job to whisper enough blissful ignorance into your ears every night so you can fall asleep with a snap, but not so much that you will never be able to open your eyes one day when you're older and ready to see the world for what it's worth.

A lot of my memories of Mom involved music, dancing, singing. Even if it was just the two of us in that house, there was never a quiet moment. As tedious as it must to have been to coax me back to sleep all those nights, at least she was always there with a song on her lips. What I would give to have that soundtrack in my hands now.

I'm shit at singing, but I'm a decent hummer and even better whisperer. Though I am not a parent, I will try to do that one little thing for them. I would do just about anything for them.

I close my eyes and think of Mom's favorite song, all of her strength and love surrounding me in a dark room. Just like now, with the twins in my place and me in hers. I whisper the Spanish lyrics and fill in all the words I don't know with hums. It's no comparison for Jeanette's angelic voice or the dreamy melody she sings over.

But I can only hope it's enough for them.

—

Even after death, Mom had the power to hush me to sleep. When I wake, the sun is nowhere to be seen yet the sky is lighter, a 4 AM kind of blue. I still hear the lengthy breaths and see the slow movements of the twins beside me.

My stomach groans to leave them, my dry tongue begs for water. So, reluctantly, I pull myself away and out of the room. Creep down the stairs, peek in on Aki and Bruno. Repeatedly make sure Crow and Jack aren't awoken by my quest for leftover pizza and tap water.

Every little thing you do makes so much noise when no one else is up.

Scratch the last part of that, actually. My guess was right; seems I'm not the only one lurking in the early hours. Just past the sheer curtains and centimeters of glass, Yusei stands out on the terrace, free of his jacket and hair waving in the wind as if the very breeze is trying to run its fingers through the thick spikes. I contemplate just going back upstairs once I'm finished—maybe he wants time to himself.

But I've checked on everyone but him. And just because Yusei was good at keeping it together doesn't mean all the pieces were in the correct spots. They might merely be in the box, a complete mess.

I tiptoe back to the door, slide the curtains away just enough for me to fit through, and open it. Yusei snaps out of whatever train of thought he was following when he hears me and I pause long enough in closing the door to send him a small wave. Then, I ease up to him by the pool's edge. There's deja-vu in the air.

"Thinking about taking a dip?" I grin at him.

The result is satisfactory—Yusei smirks my way. "No, that's more your thing."

"And your thing is, lemme guess," I pretend to think, prop a finger to my chin, "going for late night drives even though there's a curfew for all of New Domino?"

"The curfew's a suggestion."

He wasn't necessarily wrong. Ushio and Mikage had described it to me once as a "soft law." There was no insinuation of people getting tickets or arrested for being out past it since curfew was more a law in place to give people peace of mind—the rich and vain, in particular. After the war, Security had to do a lot of tear-wiping and knee-patting for the upper class while simultaneously catering to the Satellite's civil rights. Wouldn't do any good if Security was bombarded with calls from New Dominions because they were constantly looking over their shoulders or people from the Satellite claiming any accusations against them false under grounds of discrimination. Plus, Security was stretched pretty thin while covering regular crime and posing as escorts to anyone feeling vulnerable when out past curfew.

Essentially, if you wanted to feel safe from encroaching poverty and dark spirits alike, you were tucked in bed by 10 PM. In my opinion, it had it's good points. But overall, it was much like slapping a band-aid on a dead body.

But no one asked for my opinion.

I laugh. "Do you view all laws that way?"

He shrugs with one shoulder, points to his marker. "How else would I have gotten this?"

I'm almost positive it's supposed to be a joke, but I can't remember how to laugh in the moment. I really should have because the air around us turns stale with tension. All that stuff about the detention center, criminal markers, and the state of the Satellite always hits a sensitive spot for me—a guilty spot.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Huh? Oh, no," comes my weak denial. Eventually, I manage my wooden posture and puckered mouth to loosen up. Breathing brings a lighter perspective to mind. "If leaving Izushi has taught me one thing, it's that being uncomfortable is the best way to learn."

Yusei simpers in that subtle, nonchalant style of his. This isn't at all the topic I had come out here to cover, but our pattern of night talks seems to consist of a myriad of topics we hardly speak of once day breaks. If it wasn't too sore of a wound, maybe he would answer a couple of my questions regarding that yellow split in his tan skin.

"Did it hurt?"

"A lot."

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything."

Yeah, that's kinda the point. None of the people in the countryside, or even in the less prosperous urban parts of New Domino did anything. As much as I would love to go back in time and clobber prejudice and injustice with my own two fists, I would be powerless in any outcome if I was alone.

"And that kind of marker," I choose my words carefully. "...What happened?"

I don't want to make it seem like I'm planning to rap him over the knuckles for whatever he did. Talking to Crow in better depth about his crimes had made clear to me that what is lawful and what is moral don't always align. When you back someone into a corner, what else can you expect them to do other than push you down and out of their way?

Yusei turns his gaze on the skyline, looking off into a distance he's only capable of seeing. "I snuck into the city."

"...Snuck into the city?" The bridge couldn't have been completed yet and there's the sound separating the two landmasses to worry about.

"I rode through a garbage shoot, to be more specific."

Our stares lock back onto one another and I opt out first in exchange for lightening the mood. I laugh before I even get the corny joke out. "You must have smelled for days."

At least it induces an ease in his shoulders, a dip in his lips. A twinkle in his eye so bright you could mistake it for one of the stars in the night.

"It's good to see you laughing," Yusei notes, undertones of sincerity bolding his words, "looking more like yourself."

I kick at the ground, stare at my reflection in the pool, and try not to think much of the remark other than what happened today with Annie.

"I wouldn't go that far." I tug at a random curl. "I never thought I'd be a blonde in a million years. Though, I'm willing to test out if they truly do have more fun."

"Still," he insists, "you seem to be handling things well."

Am I handling this well? Or has an accumulation of traumatic, mindfucking experiences run me mentally and emotionally dry? You choose.

I finally give in to the call of the water and rest myself at the edge. I poke at the surface with my toe and consider it warm enough to stand, so in go my bare legs. I look to the cityscape as Yusei follows my lead, sitting down and hoisting his arms up on raised knees. It's a while before either of us comes out of swimming in our thoughts.

"I can't help but feel like our lives are turning into some crossover between Sailor Moon and The Exorcist," I comment and quickly backtrack just in case: "You...don't really need to know what those are to get my point, I think."

Yusei hums, staring out into the world until he meets my eye, challenging. "I know what The Exorcist is."

"Really? I mean," I raise my hands, "it's old. I'm just surprised you're a horror fan."

"Kiryu is a horror fan," he corrects. The wave of nostalgia that overcomes his expression is contrary to his next words. "Back in our Satisfaction days, he made us suffer through quite a few."

I nod, the mental image of Kiryu focusing out some in my mind. Then, I pounce on the subject once the figurative lightbulb brights. All of us have been friends so long and I don't even know everyone's taste in movies. "So, then what kind of movies do you like? I bet you're a Fast and Furious kinda guy!"

Yusei's brow arcs, presumably amused by my excitement. "I don't know what that is."

"Cool cars, big action?"

"I'm more a sci-fi kinda guy," he clarifies. "None of the names of ones I've seen have stuck, though."

"I don't know a lot of sci-fi movies myself, unfortunately." I gasp, my second lightbulb moment of the night, and grin at him. The mechanic waits in silence, still entertained by my balled fists and kicking legs. "I think you would genuinely like this movie called Baby Driver, though!"

"What's it about?"

"I'm not telling you! I don't want to ruin the movie. And I don't know how you guys at Poppo do, but we tag our spoilers in this household."

Yusei baits, "Sounds like another cool cars, big action flick to me."

"Okay, yeah." I roll my eyes. "But it's got these awesome music tracks that are timed perfectly to all the action; you'd be surprised at how incredibly well they're done. And, mostly, I think you just remind me of the main guy."

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm." My gaze lowers back to the pool. I flick my feet back and forth as I try to think of how to explain Baby without giving much away. "He does some not-so-very-good things, but what ultimately defines him—saves him is that he is a good person."

I turn my head toward the man next to me and he doesn't immediately meet my gaze. Yusei stares at the tiles, his eyes half-lidded and a soft smirk tugging at his mouth. Whatever he sees makes the smirk grow wider. Yusei's eyes raise and it's like getting caught in the undertow all over again, and it's okay because all those waves feel like long caresses this time around.

It's an astonishing feat, truly. Yusei's stare was always as concentrated and rigid as two tanzanite stones, even without meaning to. Sure, being around friends and family added a special gleam to his eyes, but it's not the same; it's like what I said about him being in a cage, safe but always ready for the next new disaster. The only times I had ever seen it soften noticeably was around children, especially Rally and the twins—they are the key-holders. And though I don't want to give myself any kind of importance, maybe this look he always gives me is spurred from some reminder of his childhood.

That, or I remind him of a literal child. Yeah, that's probably it. I definitely have the humor of one.

Which means there is no chance in heck that he thinks of me near any level that he must think of Aki. I ignore the bitter part of this bittersweet feeling and just count my lucky stars that I'm not in the way.

"We'll have to watch it some time."

I return his smile and nod a few times. But I find that I don't have anything else to really say, except for what I came out here to talk to him about. My hands furl into my ponytail and my gaze lowers to my lap, focused. How do I bring it up? Do I just blurt it out like I always do? That's essentially what Yusei does, with more earnest and less fidgeting. How does he do that? I glance at the water, hoping to find the clarity I felt in my mind-world. All I happen upon is Yusei's reflection staring at mine.

The deja-vu doubles up, and this time I can feel every bit of pressure in his stare. I turn to him, nervously glance out the corner of my eye, then back to him. He stares at me more, lost in whatever thought process he's going through, and averts his eyes in a movement that appears unexpected. I try to laugh off the red-hot embarrassment as I ask, "What?"

Yusei looks down at his joined hands, his thumb drumming the knuckle on the other. Maybe I'm seeing things, but he almost seems like he's working up the nerve to do something. It doesn't make sense, so it must not be true.

His question comes suddenly: "What was that song you were singing?"

I snort, awkward all over again; I had honestly forgot he was in the room when that happened. "Singing is a mighty reach. It's called Corazón de Poeta—Heart of a Poet."

Yusei nods, visibly absorbing the information. Then, it's wash, rinse, repeat: he looks at his tapping fingers, eyes lifting forward until he angles his head a quarter of the way toward me. The sequence is so stiff, stiff in a way that's unlike his typical reserved nature.

"You have a nice voice."

My laugh comes off more like a choke. "O-ho-kay, I'm gonna stop you there. I think all that engine revving has got your hearing shot."

"That could be true," he chuckles, relaxing enough to at least do that. "But I stand by what I said."

"And you're entitled to your wrong opinions! No, Martha's a good singer. My mom...was a good singer. That song, uh..." I tighten my ponytail, just as something for my nervous hands to do. "It was my mom's favorite song. She told me once that she thought the lyrics described my father."

The blank space I once had of my father in my memories is now glued over by a sloppily cutout photo of Hiro. But that wasn't just like filling in a blank; thinking about Hiro in that light was more like putting a key in a lock. A lock that belonged to Pandora's Box.

Even with the new revelations of him, thinking of my father doesn't make me sad like it used to. It doesn't make me miss a person who, for the better part of my life, had the face of a question mark. It doesn't make me envious of all the other little girls who had daddies that perched them on their shoulders or overly-protected them. The thought of my father just makes me angry.

I pull my legs out of the pool and pull them into my chest, unsure as to why I'm divulging all this to Yusei yet doing so anyway—Pandora's box, right?

"I asked her one day if she still sang it after he left because she thought he would hear it from wherever he was and come back for us. I will never forget what she said as she looked down at me: 'Sometimes, songs are just songs.'" I look to the sky. I used to wonder if he was looking at the same constellations at night. How funny is it that I can no longer see stars from where I'm at now. "I think that was the day I decided that I never had a father to begin with."

I had a mother and she was enough. For each other, we were enough.

It was in good timing that I pulled myself away from the water. The lights below the surface flicker and peer pressure the ones above and around us to do the same, all of them winking as if they're in on some practical joke we aren't. I suck a large breath in and blow a larger one out, annoyance stifling the anger. All at once, the lights shut off and a few bulbs crack in the process. It's too dark to tell which ones, but it's better than them shattering into a trillion pieces.

Something rough and big lands on my arm and I gasp, wrench myself away. This time in my shock, the lights shine at full capacity and luckily stay there. I look to the side again, at Yusei's hand still middair.

"Sorry," he says, lips straightening into a thin line afterward.

I laugh it off, mostly at my own stupidity. "I thought your hand was a huge bug!"

Once I've reigned my giggles in and Yusei's expression relaxes, he gets up. "Well, I think that's a sign as any we should probably go back inside."

If we go back inside, I'll probably never have the courage to say to him what I wanted while we were out here. In the dark, by the water—this is where I am my most honest self. And it certainly does show, because nowhere else would I have the courage to jump up and reach for his hand the way I do. It's like the other night all over again: close bodies, hands together, shy eyes. I reel my arm back and then some, placing both behind me.

"Thank you for helping with the twins," I begin, looking elsewhere. "I guess having anxiety attacks isn't the same as knowing how to deal with them. You're very good with them—the twins. Well, anxiety attacks, too?" I digress, "Ugh, grammar."

Yusei's voice comes out lowered, "I think I got it."

"And I know in our relationship—friendship! ...I know it's usually a one-way street: you helping me. But consider this the fork in the road opening up." I scratch my scalp with a finger. "If you ever need me for anything, whether it's Signer-business or dueling-business. Heck, if you even need help with technology..."

I cringe at the thought and, thankfully, it lessens into a laugh. "I can't promise anything on that front, but I am a living spark plug now so there's that. Anyway, I'm just trying to say that—I'm here."

The way he looks at me... It is just not fair. Anyone else—it could have been anyone else in this city, in the world. But it has to be Yusei who gives me this reality-altering, gravity-shifting stare.

And, of course he says, "That's all I need, Maria."

But the cake isn't iced yet, why would it be?

Yusei looks down and I follow his gaze to my hand. He reaches for it and I let him, like the greedy homewrecker I am. In a similar manner to the night we talked about our childhood dreams, Yusei's calloused touch smooths over my skin, grazing all the bumps and dips along the way. He keeps the hold light enough that I can break away easily, but that is really the trouble: I don't want to.

"Yusei, I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." He says it with all the conviction of a promise.

I shake my head. "That is just what you want to believe."

"It's the truth, Maria." Yusei squeezes my hand a little harder. "You have more control than you think."

I really don't, Yusei.

And that's when it clicks for me—for the second time today, I realize that I have been looking at things in front of me all wrong. I don't have control and this entire time I've been pretending I do. I tell myself to pull away and fail. I try to bring him close and don't know how or even want to stop. I make excuses about platonic hand-holding and keeping the framily afloat. Build my own guilt by calling myself a bad friend and a homewrecker.

Now I see why nothing ever works: Yusei is the one in control here. He's the one in the cage, who gets to decide when to reach out his hand. He is the one complicating the equation, not me.

And you know what? If it was anyone else, I would think they were trying to take advantage of Aki and I by playing both sides. But this is Yusei we're talking about, so I find it hard to believe he would pull a stunt like that. What I think might be closer to the truth is that he either has no idea what he wants or has no idea how heavy the weight of his words are.

Of course Aki likes him, of course I like him. Any person in the entire world would be fortunate to be on Yusei's arm. He's just an all around good guy. Always there when you need him. I wonder if that's the problem—he's looking in so many directions that he can't see what's right in front of him. So far in his life, it seems that route has worked very well for him. Right now, from my shoes, it's looking a bit messy. And down the road, I can't help but think about what will happen when he spreads himself too thin, reels in something bigger than what he can handle.

Maybe one day, he'll be able to look straight and recognize what he wants for himself rather than for others.

I pull my hand out of his. "Stop."

Some parts of me regret doing that when he looks at me like I've just sucker-punched him in the gut. But the look is quickly hidden under his bangs. No longer reaching, his palm is clenched into a fist.

"I'm sorry. If I've overstepped a line, I'm sorry. I just..." He suddenly looks so tired, so overwhelmed. A hand flies through his hair as the other rests against his belt. Finally, he lands on the words to explain what's going on in his head. "I would rather keep holding on than let you go."

He's Yusei Fudo, the man who says all these endless things and shows you all the best parts about yourself. Being around him is like being in a spotlight. Once you were under that stare of his, you didn't want to be out of it, off to the side and in the shadows.

But that's what I want right now. To not be so dependent on the light and comfortable being blind. I want to be comfortable with being uncomfortable. I want to step into the great big black and let my eyes adjust to whatever grittiness awaits me. I want to learn to be one with the truth and a part of a larger whole. I want to find clarity, not a merry-go-round of confusion.

It's the only way I'm going to get through all of this.

It's the only way we're going to make it out of this alive.

"Don't be sorry." I smile at him. I know he means well. I know he's just trying to be there for me and, as his friend, I want to return the favor. "I just want you to be careful. Thinking like that can get you in trouble, Yusei."

I leave him out there. I've seen my fair share of sunrises.

—

Aki's alarm goes off and, one by one, our group wakes up. I've got breakfast cooking as the guys crowd around the dining table; Crow offers a hand but I shoo him back to the hungry masses with a plate of sausage links. The twins come down, rubbing their eyes and still clad in pajamas. With all the seats taken at the table, they hoist themselves up onto the stools at the mini bar on the border between the two areas.

"Hey, nuggets." I lean on the marble surface and send them an unsteady smile. "How are we feeling?"

Ruka nods, gives me a similar expression. "Better."

I ease up and move back to the skillet on the eye. "Better enough to go to school?"

"We should use the rest of our off days for the WRGP."

I was well-prepared to be pleaded and bargained with in order to stay home. I was even looking forward to it, planning to make a whole day out of it with a trip to the carnival that just opened up on the seaside. But I'm proud of her for being so responsible.

I look to her brother; both of them have to agree in order to make any moves. "Rua?"

He lowers his eyes to the tabletop and mutters, "School is stupid."

"Well," I glance at the guys, "I know it can be rough, frustrating at times. But school's important, kiddo."

"No, it's not! It's a waste of time and completely pointless!"

He hops off the stool after and marches out of sight. Ruka's on his tail not a second later, reopening the slammed door and closing quietly again. Aki comes out of the hall then and stares at us, dumbfounded. It's not much better on our end as we pass looks around the room.

Yusei rises from his chair, but I tell him: "I'll go. Crow, watch the food."

I knock on the door, call lightly, "Hey, it's me."

Though, I can hear them talking behind the door, neither of the siblings gives me a go-ahead. So, I push the door open slightly and poke my head in. The two of them sit on Rua's bed and hardly seem to notice me. The sight of them like this, huddled together as each other's only confidant, pushes me further into the room. The past cannot repeat itself.

I sit cross-legged on the floor in front of them and they finally realize it's not just the two of them anymore. Gently, I prod, "What was that all about, Rua?"

His typical bright-eyed look is dimmed quite a bit and averted away. I wait for him to find the words like Mom always did with me and, when he does, they come along with an angered huff.

"I'm sick and tired of being told what to do. Ruka and I aren't some dumb little kids—we aren't oblivious. We're just as strong as you guys! And I'm a Signer now, so I should get a say in what goes on just like everyone else does."

"First of all," I say after a sigh, "none of us think either of you are dumb or oblivious. And, Signer or not, we have always tried to make sure your voices are heard."

"Not yesterday! Not when it matters! You guys always boss us around, leave us out when it's time to make decisions about important stuff." He frowns, but he looks more hurt than anything. "None of you know what's going on, yet we're the only ones who aren't allowed to help figure it out."

"You're right. We don't know what's going on. But we try to make all the decisions on our own because it is simply not your job." I raise onto my knees and lay a hand on each of their cheeks. "Your job is to be kids—have fun and duel with your friends, watch cartoons, eat your weight in sugar. All of us have passed that point in our lives and, honestly, some of us had to grow up much faster than we would've liked. Some of us have experienced decades more than we should have at our ages."

I reach for their hands, give them a good squeeze. I smile when they squeeze back.

"I know it's frustrating being bossed around and being told only half the story. But, what you'll both learn when you get older is that you miss it. You miss having a sense of direction because you realize the world is much, much bigger than you ever knew it to be. Unfortunately, you've both had to reach that conclusion sooner than you should have. Believe me when I say we are not trying to talk down to you, we are just trying to protect your childhoods and your futures. We know you are strong," I look at Rua, then Ruka, "but we also know you are scared. We are, too. But we are all here together, and that is the only way we're going to figure out what's going on."

Rua glomps me, all his weight pushing me back on my butt. I laugh and lay my head against his, minding the warm tears soaking my skin not a bit. Then, I extend my arm out to his sister still on the bed. Her grin spans ear to ear and, though her hug is calmer than her twin's, her hold is just as tight.

I kiss both of them on the crowns of their heads. "I promise we hear you."

They let go of me and share a look with one another, then give me matching smiles. "We hear you, too."

"Okay, nuggets," I say once eyes have been dried and we're all on our two feet, "I'm prepared to call you off from school and throw a gigantic fun bonanza today, but you both have to agree."

"Ruka's right. We should save the rest of our sick days for the WRGP," says the oldest, despite the sour-face.

"We'll be on break soon for summer, anyway."

Rua shrieks and bounces, doing a complete one-eighty. "I forgot! That's in like two weeks!"

He zips out of the room and goes who knows where. Ruka's eyes meet mine and we just shrug the inquiry off.

—

After dropping the twins and Aki off at the academy and warding off the worried guys, I make a few calls. First to Martha, to check up on her and the kids as per usual but also to ask about Annie; as expected, she hadn't been seen since her last pop-in at the house. Then I give Carly a ring and tell her she needs a major update, so we agree to lunch later. Ushio's last on the list. According to Bruno, the detective had given the man a police escort back to the Tops as he figured out how to drive my truck (which he stressed made it in one piece) and Ushio even stayed outside the building for a while to scope out Ruka's suspicion about my Other. He found nothing—whether that is a good or bad thing, I can't say—and left to tell Mikage about it.

One thing for sure is that Security is just as lost on the murders as they have been, and those are still occurring just as much as before. As if the Lichtenberg figures aren't enough of an autograph, all the lab results of the bodies found have matched in causes of death: organ failure. But that's about the extent of what officers know. With so little, the best Security could do is indirect care—put more officers on patrol at night, leave lines open for tips, and cover their own asses from the press. I'm sure they would go through with a hard curfew if they could, but that would mean lots of professional gatekeeping and the like. Citizens weren't going to stop their lives because of the Other, not that most of us could afford the luxury anyway.

I fiddle with the totebag in the passenger seat, stuff the contents that had fallen out inside again. "So, I'm gonna take it you and Mikage aren't in need of a consultant as of present?" Not to say that I am eager to witness anymore dead bodies. Got enough of 'em haunting my sleep.

"Not at the moment, no. Mostly paperwork and hypothesizing over here." I make out the sound of a clicking pen among the rumblings of Headquarters.

"Well, that's okay. Even if I don't ever consult again, I got a phone and a cool lanyard out of the deal."

"We're gonna need those back eventually, Maria." I grumble and roll my eyes. Maybe I can get the guys to refurbish an older model for free. Heaven knows I'm running out of money. "And stop giving out the number to people! It's supposed to be for Mikage and me only!"

"But you're both always too busy to hang out," I mock. "Gotta keep myself occupied lest I end up a crying wreck at an officer's desk again."

"Yeah, well..." Ushio sighs, smacks his lips. "You and the rest of the circus better have each other's backs covered. There's a real storm brewing up again and I mean it. If you could have seen it yesterday, it would have blown your mind."

"My end wasn't looking too hot, either. But thanks for helping everyone out."

"Just doing my job, kid."

"Well then, thank you for being a respectable enforcer of the law."

Ushio grunts; to my ears it sounds pleased, but I can't be all that sure. Then, he talks in a hushed voice, "Listen, you all have more freedom and more power than any of us officers do. Whatever's going on, you kids have better odds of figuring it out than we do. Just—just don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"What, you mean like go into an evil forest using my cat as a guide and stumble upon mythical glyphs that give me a seizure?"

"Something like that."

I grin. "Gotcha."

The call ends and I get out of the truck, tote in tow. Lock the door, look over my shoulders, hurry up the library steps. I could have easily done my research at the flat, but I don't really feel like being alone right now. Just the same, I could have borrowed one of the computers at Poppo and holed myself up there, yet I could tell by their vibe this morning the guys were going to be in hovering mode. Plus, they have a bit more time on their hands now, what with the engine finished and all their gear prepped. They should be focusing on strategies for their match against Team Unicorn, not me. So, the library seemed like the perfect go-between: not alone, but plenty of space to breathe.

I log in at a computer and rifle through my bag. It's been a while since I've felt the moleskine between my fingertips and being reunited feels better than good—it feels different. I used to scribble in this thing, frantically grasping at straws. However, once I've skimmed through the pages and pressed open a new one, I definitely feel much more in control. And now that I'm on my back-to-school kick with Spanish, I figure it would be fitting to take some good notes. Now we just have to decide where to start.

Search bar: panthers

"Black panthers in Asia and Africa are leopards, and those in the Americas are black jaguars."

Jaguars in the Americas, huh. Something about that rings a bell... Maybe there's more relevance in what she is rather than the color. If the girl in my visions is in fact a Star Child, she had a black owl. And owls, in Latin American cultures, are bad omens due to their association with the underworld. If that was the sole reason they made the girl a pariah, it's really dumb. But, people have a reputation of believing things just because others before them believed the same.

"Given its historical distribution, the jaguar has been featured prominently in the mythology of numerous indigenous American cultures, including those of the Maya and Aztec... In pre-Columbian Central and South America, the jaguar was a symbol of power and strength."

You would think, right? It's a huge-ass cat.

"In the Maya civilization, the jaguar was believed to facilitate communication between the living and the dead and to protect the royal household. The Maya saw these powerful felines as their companions in the spiritual world... The jaguar is said to possess the transient ability of moving between worlds because of its comfort both in the trees and the water, the ability to hunt in the nighttime as well in the daytime, and the habit of sleeping in caves, places often associated with the deceased ancestors... Many Mesoamerican civilizations practiced shamanism and jaguars played an important role in rituals by protecting the shamans as they maneuver about between the earth and spirit realm."

So, we have some striking resemblances here with the Ancient Egyptians' thoughts about cats: prominence with royalty and the like, protectors, intermediaries of both living and spiritual worlds. The latter of which is similar to owls in past Latin American mindsets, though the two animals somehow got on the opposing ends of those beliefs—jaguars revered, owls cursed. Not much to go off in essence, but still noteworthy. Who knows if it holds any significance on my part and, at this point, I'm in favor of keeping my expectations lowered.

"...It was crucial for the shamans to transform and cross over to the spirit realm in order to combat whatever evil forces threatened those in the earth. Shamans were commonly naguals, a human being who has the power to transform either spiritually or physically into an animal form. Jaguars, pumas, and wolves were most popular, yet dogs, birds, or coyotes were also included."

Hold the gosh darn phone. Now we might have just found something. Maybe what the Mesoamericans viewed as shamans and naguals were really Star Children. All of the mechanics of my theory about Annie and the maze are present, that's for sure. But Ancient Fairy Dragon told Ruka that Star Children exist alone and though she's cryptic, I believe her word over age-old lore. So, maybe Star Children are special kinds of shaman—shamans on steroids.

I make a mental note to look up the specifics of shamanism down the road, but look into nagualism a bit more first.

"Nagualism is linked with the Mesoamerican calendrical system, used for divination rituals. The birth date often determines if a person will be a nagual. Mesoamerican belief in tonalism, wherein every person has an animal counterpart to which their life force is linked, is also an integral definition of nagualism. The modern translation of nagual is often "transforming witch" or "shape-shifter"... In some indigenous communities the position of nagual is integrated into the religious hierarchy. The community knows who is a nagual, tolerating, fearing and respecting them... In Aztec mythology, the God Tezcatlipoca was the protector of nagualism, because his tonal was the jaguar and he governed the distribution of wealth."

If my estimation is right about the girl in my vision living in the Americas and either during Mesoamerican times or in an indigenous village, the villagers' treatment of her fits the shoe. It isn't right at all for them to have driven her to murder, but it agrees with logic. Times haven't changed one bit; Aki is an unfortunate example of that—hurting people because that's the only thing society taught her to do, gave her the choice to do. And then people turn around wondering why you're so violent, as if they hadn't been calling you every vile name under the sun just a moment ago.

I brush off my irritation before anything spontaneously combusts and go through the notebook pages a little too aggressively. The name sounds familiar and knowing myself, it was likely I'd written something down in here when in passing mention of the god while reading one of Tatsuo's books or on my late night prowls. Sleep deprived or not, I could always take good notes.

"Tezcatlipoca was a central deity in Aztec religion. He is represented by a wide array of concepts, including the night sky, the earth, enmity, cold, discord, rulership, temptation, jaguars, war, and strife. His name in the Nahuatl language is often translated as "Smoking Mirror" and alludes to his connection to obsidian, the material from which mirrors were made in Mesoamerica. Mirrors were commonly used for shamanic rituals and prophecies."

"Mirrors... Reflections," I murmur, sitting back in my chair.

The vision I had when I touched that crater on that roof comes back to mind. The dark, thorny forest and the night sky. The moon right above me. The icy dirt below me. The owl in the tree, then in stone.

My Other did that. My reflection.

I'm a hell of a note-taker, but that doesn't necessarily mean I process all the information I jot down. Seems I spoke too soon about the sleep deprivation. In any case, there's something about this bit that speaks to me. I've told myself to stop heeding coincidence, and I have for the better part. Yet, now I'm in a position where I never want to be too gullible, because my hopes would get up and maybe it would send me to the next best thing or maybe it would lead me to the next dead end. And I'm running like a crazy, headless chicken all over again.

I skim the rest of Tezcatlipoca's section. It's mostly summarized myths, festivals, temples, and rituals pertaining to him. Nothing like those first sentences, though.

I read, "For other pan-Mesoamerican deities, see Quetzalcoatl and Tlaloc."

"Quetzalcoatl is arguably the best known Mesoamerican god. "The Feathered Serpent" was also known to the Maya as Kukulkan. The lasting impression of Quetzalcoatl left by the Aztecs is that he was the god of wind and learning, of arts and crafts. The dragon, thought to be covered in resplendent quetzal feathers, was boundary-maker of the sky and cosmos. He was a creator deity, having contributed essentially to the creation of mankind. He was a transgressor among the gods for this and for constantly prioritizing humans over his own kind. It is said that he loved humans so much that he was one of the few gods to refuse human sacrifices."

I flip to Tlaloc's summary.

"As supreme god of the rain, Tlaloc was also a god of earthly fertility and of water. He was widely worshiped as a beneficent giver of life and sustenance. However, he was also feared for his ability to send hail, thunder, and lightning, and for being the lord of all natures of water. The Mexican marigold, known to the Aztecs as yauhtli, was another important symbol of the god, and was burned as a ritual incense in native religious ceremonies."

"How the fuck did I forget this?"

About ten people, librarians and patrons alike, shush me. I do a couple mini bows, mouth "Sorry!" a couple times and go about metaphorically banging my head against the keyboard. Boy, does insomnia do a number on a girl. Looking at this, it's almost too good to be true. Whether or not my lack of sleep has any impact on my focus, I can understand not getting too riled up about anything, what with all the rerouting I did just recently to my Star Childhood. But, come on, this screams Zephyrus. Water, fertility, giver of life—that's exactly what he did in Tatsuo's book. Lightning and marigolds are really the cherries thrown on top. Some parts do seem purely coincidental: there are many water gods in the Aztec pantheon, fertility was a recurring attribute to be worshiped for. So, I read more about Tlaloc in both my notes and online, about his jaguar fangs, child sacrifices, and mountaintop shrines. When you put it all together, even with some parts subtracted out with doubt, the overall sum is Zephyrus.

I find myself to be less excited and more curious than ever. Another theory is working my brain gears, hard.

The Crimson Dragon is this almighty, interdimensional entity that fits the descriptor of a god fairly well. Likelihood of being bound to some card or tablet is also close to zero, I'm betting. And Zephyrus may or may not be on the same level as the Crimson Dragon—he's able to slap on birthmarks, is older than any of the Signer Dragons, and another unlikely candidate for being bound to a card in this world. So too, then, would he fit the title of a god. If Tlaloc is truly Zephyrus, could the Crimson Dragon also be represented somewhere in this pantheon?

Or any pantheon, for that matter. The Crimson Dragon has a distinct relationship to the Inca and presumably other Mesoamerican peoples because of the birthmarks; Zephyrus shares those same ties. But that doesn't rule out any existence outside of those groups. As I said earlier, there's commonalities between all the representations and traits of gods. If the Sun glyph in that cave meant Zephyrus and those glyphs are a combination of Egyptian and Mayan, that means Zephyrus also had to make the same transition. Ruka did say the spirits could access all parts of the realms; why would they stick to just one civilization?

I turn back to my bullet-pointed section about Tezcatlipoca. And maybe they aren't the only ones.

---

"WHAT."

"He's okay; it's just his shoulder," Aki's worried intonation responds on the other end. "But Crow said he didn't remember how it happened, that he was on his D-Wheel one second and in the next he was in the air."

I lean against the living room wall. "The doctor's sure it's just his shoulder? He could have a concussion! Brain damage!"

"That's what he said. And I'm no professional, but with the way Crow's yelling at him he's definitely in the right mind. Problem is, he'll be out for a month."

"A month? The match is Monday!" I jump right off the wall, shouting into the receiver, "What are they going to do?"

Rua's ponytail flips over his shoulder as he asks, "What's going on?"

I send him and his sister a motion of a spoon shoveling food into my mouth, then silently tell them, "Eat!"

"I haven't brought this up to them yet, but I'm thinking about taking his place."

There's a beat of silence. "Oh."

"You don't think that's a good idea?"

"No, Aki, I think that's great! It's just..." I sigh. "It's a double-edged sword, you know? I have full confidence in you and I'm excited to see you in your first real turbo duel. But at the same time, I just feel so bad for him. I know the kids have been looking forward to seeing him on the big screen and I'm sure he was planning on making them proud."

"Yeah, you're right. I feel bad, too." I can practically hear her squirming between the rock and the hard place on the other end. "Unfortunately, if it's just Jack and Yusei, they're handicapped by four-thousand LPs."

I shrug, hoping the matter will be resolved quickly and without any friendly-fire. That was really the only thing standing in the way of them moving forward: everyone's feelings. "At the end of the day, Crow's out and I doubt either Jack or Yusei would risk the handicap. So, I suggest you just talk it out with all of them. If it comes down to a team vote, you got mine—and the twins', I'm sure."

"Thanks, Maria. I really needed the push."

"You can't see it, but I'm shooting finger-guns at you."

We end the call and I'm left to explain the ordeal to the twins over dinner. They're just as concerned, but with the comfort of the storm outside and silk sheets they manage to get some sleep. I, on the other hand, am so consumed with worry that it spreads over all subjects in my head. It starts with Crow and how hard he must be taking this, then travels to my powers and the Signers' cards, and ends up in dark territory with my Other and Yliaster. I eventually have to get up and check every entry way into the house to make sure they're locked. I should have asked Ushio for a detail to sit outside the Tops when I had the chance, if they could even spare the officer or get one to watch over us without being suspicious.

But it's fine. I would fight tooth and nail for these two kids if I have to.

Without really planning to, I end up in the study. Walk the edges of the room to examine the bookshelf; aside from the scattered law or business guides, there's lots and lots of history titles, all of which somehow connect to dueling. I don't bother with them and spin around.

"What do we have here," I say to the liquor cabinet.

I shouldn't, right? The little angel in the back of my head is squeaking no, but my hand is already on the handle and opening up the supply. You would think this would be locked with only two preteens stuck in a house together. I can't tell if their parents have a lot of trust in their children or if they're just that neglectful.

This thought process discourages my hand none. I snatch a bottle of white wine off the shelf. Maybe a drink will loosen me up enough to go to bed. Sitting the bottle down, I rifle around for a glass and find some ice in the mini fridge under the desk. Then, I prop my feet up on the surface like a pretend rich businessman. I don't know how much time passes with me just staring at my thoughts up on the ceiling, but it's two glasses worth.

I glance at the picture frames lining the desk at one point. Pick up the one of the twins as younger kids sitting in the laps of a blonde woman and man with deep-blue hair. They make a beautiful family, when they're together. And since they aren't, the big smiles and warm lighting have about as much charm as a stock photo.

I put it back down and wake up the computer.

"Let's see what's so important the happy couple couldn't spare any of their free time to be with the people who need them most."

Search bar: genesis organization

The hunt is rather lackluster. I mean, it's informational, for sure. But it feels like virtually walking through a history museum. Lots of facts, lots of dates, lots of artifacts from all over the world. History was never my thing and I find it's even less so when applied to dueling. The only stuff that catches my interest is the way, way back of it all—how and why ancient civilizations got into dueling. The meat and bone of that has many layers: religious, social, economical, and everything in between.

I don't know if it's the sleep or the drinks catching up with me, but I eventually wind up scrolling through the visual media section, much too whatever I am to focus on anything in worded format. Whatever positions the twins' parents hold are actually very active in the organization; they're pictured relatively often. Judging by the smart suits and fancy dresses both on screen and in their closet, I would bet they're part of the corporate branch of the association and maybe even faces often used to market some wholesome, humanitarian brand. All those good looks shouldn't be wasted.

"Wait."

My brain catches up with my fingers clicking on the arrow and I go back a photo. It's an image of a mural somewhere in their facilities captioned "Remembering Our Past." Really, it's just a blown up photograph rather than a painting, and it's because of this that I can make his face out so clearly. I zoom in anyway, right before it gets grainy.

It's him for sure, with that same phantom smile Nayla holds close to her heart.

Tatsuo.

—

Yusei and I pull up to Poppo at the same time. He's pulling off his helmet as I bound up to him, moleskine clutched tightly in my grasp.

"Hey! Where'd you just get back from?"

The side garage door opens up and I walk with him as he rolls the Yusei-Go inside. "Just a quick house call. I got another one later, but I figured I'd come back until then. How are you?"

"You know." I shrug, then smile at Bruno when he spins around in his computer chair. I wave my notebook in the air. "I, uh, got some stuff for us to look at. Are the other guys around?"

"They went over to Martha's to tell the kids about his injury." Bruno's mouth twists into a knot, bothered by that acknowledgment.

I glance back and forth between the two men. "Is Crow...is he doing okay?"

"He's taking it hard. It's a given." Yusei heaves a sigh and crosses his arms. "Hopefully, if he's good about taking it easy, his shoulder might heal quicker and he'll be able to compete later."

"Ah, let's hope so then." Although, knowing Crow he'll be about just as reckless as he always is.

Yusei starts shrugging off his jacket. "What did you come over here to talk about?"

"Oh! Well," I point to Bruno, "remember the other day when I was asking Ushio about Glyph Guy Dale and he brought up Genesis, the company that sent him?"

Bruno nods. "The one the twins' parents work for."

"Yes! I don't necessarily know if that's important yet, but definitely worth mentioning because," I pull the printed page out of the moleskine's confines and present it to the two mechanics, "they're how I found this."

Yusei stares at the picture with furrowed brows. It's Bruno who reads my sharpied writing aloud: "Tatsuo? Like, children's book Tatsuo?"

"If you don't believe me," I start, pulling the clearer, bigger picture from the notebook, "compare the two."

"It's him alright," Yusei declares. A hand parks itself at his chin. "But we asked Dale if he knew anything about Tatsuo."

"Exactly. If Tatsuo is as famous an archaeologist as it seems and prominent enough in the organization to be immortalized on a Genesis mural, the guy's gotta know something about him."

"So, we were right then?" Bruno's cedar-brown gaze flickers from me to Yusei. "It's a cover up?"

"I think that's as far as I'm willing to go with it, yeah. I mean," my head teeters to the side, considering all possibilities in such a short span of time, "we can't put them on terms with Yliaster just yet. Obviously, they're hiding something valuable about Star Children and whether it's for good reason, we don't know."

Bruno backs it up, "And Dale helped us decode the glyphs. Regardless of what he or Genesis could have gained from that, he helped us."

"I wouldn't go so far as to put faith in either of them," says Yusei, always the voice of reason, "but I agree. They've done more good than Yliaster has, as far as we're aware. Plus, we have people that we know that are or have been affiliated with them, given that they know anything about what Genesis has on Star Children."

"Do you think we could try asking any of those connections? Maybe it's hoping for a bit too much, but it wouldn't hurt to try, right?"

I shake my head at the tall man. "The twins hardly speak to their parents beyond the stray postcard. And as for Nayla, Tatsuo's a touchy subject for her. I don't wanna risk drudging up anything that can't be...dealt with."

"Not that anyone would just hand over information like that, in any case," Yusei reminds.

"Not even to a real-life Star Child herself?" It's stated plainly and with a severe finality that rolling up to Genesis on a silver platter is out of the question for me. Not that I was jumping at the opportunity to begin with. "Joking."

"So," Bruno teeters on his feet, hands shoved in his pants pockets, "where do we go from here?"

My lips tighten into a puckered mass and I shoot a look at my moleskine. I was planning on holding off on the theory until it was hardened into something close enough to concrete. But I don't necessarily have to spill the beans just yet, I can use a very reliable resource in front of me to help find solid ground.

"Totally different subject here," I shift my weight and address Yusei. "But do you happen to remember anything Godwin said to you and the rest of the Signers about ancient Signer stuff? You know, the Crimson Dragon or the first Signer battle?"

Yusei's eyes lift to the ceiling momentarily and when they return, they're rather empty-handed. "I remember him talking about that ancient civilization, People of...?"

"People of the Stars?" He nods. "Yeah, I read a bit about them. Didn't find much, either because it was long ago or wasn't documented as well as other stuff."

He shakes his head slightly, gives a resigned breath. "I don't remember much more than that. There was a lot to keep track of."

"Right, yeah." I leave it there and grin at the two. "I'm gonna go camp out in the den now."

I take up one of the couches as my makeshift headquarters. Lay myself down on the ripped leather and prop the workbook on my chest. I've stared at my hand-drawn map so many times I could see it from behind my eyelids.

There's no coincidences in this city, only connections. And with that thought in mind, I had in front of me a little game of connect the dots I'd strewn up after researching Annie. It is nothing much, but it helps me see straight. See all the stops and signs for what they are and might be once I get closer to the truth.

Solid lines for sure things: Crimson Dragon's connection to the Inca and Signers, Zephyrus creating Star Children, my relation to Annie and my Other.

Dotted lines for ifs and maybes (there's many more of these than I'd like there to be): Crimson Dragon and Zephyrus' connection to multiple civilizations as well as a questionable link to some powerful being in the Graveyard, that being's connection to my Other, my Other's reason for coming after me or Zephyrus (if anything other than wanting to take my place as the friendly neighborhood Star Child and presumably his power too), Zephyrus' ties to the girl in my visions, the assumption that the two of us are related by more than just him—by descendance.

My eyes raise to the page's margin. Sun. Companion. Fire. Water. Snake. Father. Bird.

Sun is Zephyrus, but that's about all we've figured out. Water might be some connection to him, too, or something completely unrelated. Fire. Snake. Snake like snake, or snake like serpent—dragon? When you put the two glyphs together, you get something that loosely fits the Crimson Dragon.

Somehow, both entities tie into this, not just Zephyrus. I don't know why and I don't know how, maybe at this point I'm drawing lines where there aren't any. Maybe it's more insignificant than anything else. But I can sense it, my gut agrees. Yet, there's still more to be unmasked with the remaining three words: Companion, Father, Bird.

Apparently, all this staring and hypothesizing tires me out enough to doze off at some point. One moment I'm looking at my jumbled mess of a life and the next I'm blinking at Yusei's profile right next to my face. When I sit upright, fully awake in an instant, the television on the other wall clicks to some newscast.

Neither of us pay it any mind, attentions fully paid to one another instead. My gaze glides over to his hands. I don't really know how to process the sight of him holding the newspaper clipping of Mom between his fingertips. Should I be angry, confused, offended, sentimental?

Before I'm finished rifling through my bag of emotions, before Yusei can apologize or make that sucker-punched expression, I simply settle both our sides with: "It's okay."

Quickly after, I connect the dots just like I'd been doing before I fell into the void of my mind. My notebook had fallen to the floor in the meantime, scattering all the bookmarks I kept inside it—Mom's picture and the only duel cards I own. Yusei wordlessly tucks the clipping into the binds of the moleskine on the coffee table and continues picking up my other things. I halt at the feel of a blanket over my legs and brush past the realization that he must have laid it on me when I swing my legs over the edge.

I rub the corner of my eye. "I didn't intend to fall asleep up here."

"You weren't out for long," he responds, laying Baby Dragon on the flat surface. "Didn't mean to wake you."

"Mm." I wave a hand. "I told you, jumpy even in my sleep."

Yusei stands tall and smiles down at me. He extends the expression to the cards lined next to my notebook. "These are some good cards you've got."

"Oh yeah? Is my deck all balanced?" I chuckle. All three of my cards. I look a little harder at the tabletop. Jurrac, Baby Dragon, and... "There should be three."

Yusei's eyes sweep the floor, under the table. I bend down on my knees and spy under the couch. Lo and behold, there the little guy is. I raise the card in the air, pick the bit of lint off a corner and blow the remaining dust away.

"Good as new."

"We've got some card protectors around here somewhere if you want a few," Yusei offers.

I lay HT on the table and inspect the other two for the same grime. "Those would be handy, thanks. Guess I never gave much thought to them before since I never planned on using these in duels and figured it was easier to talk to their spirits as they are."

A realization dawns on me, then. I turn to Yusei, mouth caught between smiling and hanging agape.

"You didn't see the show."

"The show?"

I pick up Horseytail again and slightly hold the card out to him. "When I introduced HT to everyone you were in Crash Town."

"That's right." Yusei nods. "The twins told me about that."

With everything that had happened recently, it slipped my mind to check up on the unlikely trio. Ruka mentioned that the three spirits and Kuribon showed up on the track that day, most likely concerned for my well-being. Until Annie scared them off; I figure a spirit cat possessing a human body would do that to just about anyone.

"I could show you now if you want." I notice he's dressed in jacket, gloves, boots and all. "Or another time."

The mechanic spares a glance at the clock in the corner of the TV screen. "I've got time."

I scoot over on the couch and pat the space beside me. Yusei settles into the cushions, arms crossing. Now, do I feel like becoming a living piece of burnt toast or having a face-full of hot dragon breath? The answer is neither, though I make up my mind to talk to the more excitable spirits in the safety of the Tops. I give Yusei the same spiel I gave the rest of our friends about HT being shy and unfamiliar with humans.

"You have nicknames for all of them?" he asks, a curious eyebrow lifting.

"Yes," I answer sheepishly. I look down at HT's card with an embarrassed smile. "Horseytail responds to HT, so that's pretty much set in stone. As for the other two, I've been thinking Bowser for Baby Dragon because they're so grumpy and Rocky for Jurrac because," I chuckle at the memory of the raptor setting everything ablaze, "they just seem like a fighter."

A corner of Yusei's mouth tips up. "I'm sure they'll like them."

"I have to concentrate now," I tell him in order to drive away the smile leaking onto my face.

After a couple slow inhales and exhales, I call out to my little green friend. I imagine HT walking through the big maze, happy to be in a place that looks like their own self and uncaring that they're dwarfed in comparison to it. I open my eyes when I hear a sort of sizzling sound and turn to my hands. The glow is normal and strong as ever, but it seems that the other day's incidents have added minor crackles and pops of electricity to the light.

"That's new," I mumble.

I'm unable to think too much on it, however. The bitty grain is standing atop their card right after, staring at me with eyes as big and brown as chocolate chips. Tears glisten the duel spirit's stare and HT holds their stems over a quivering mouth. I gasp, all the air escaping my body as my heart deflates and lungs rush to refill the supply.

I hadn't given it the thought that any of them would be genuinely concerned about me. I didn't think they cared much at all, honestly; they were safe in the Spirit World. How stupid of me, to take their feelings for granted.

"Please don't cry," I plead, softly. Releasing the card with one hand, I lay my palm out flat. HT jumps on instantly and rides it all the way up to my face. The tiny spirit presses their entire body up against my nose and I force a chuckle down, just in case I accidentally blow the little plant away. When we part, I assure, "I promise, everything is fine now. I'm fine."

The spirit checks both my eyes, the little spore of a head focusing on one at a time until they deem the inspection complete and takes my word for fact. HT notices the third party in our get-together then, and slowly leans further into me again. Yusei doesn't make any sound, the only movement about him are his royal blues soaking the plant-type in.

"This is another one of my friends, like the others if you remember." I glance back and forth between the two, a small smile guiding my lips. "He looks scary, I know. But he's quite the opposite."

That's enough for HT to buck up, no longer hiding behind my cheek. Instead the spirit hops out with leafy arms situated at the hip, feet spread apart, and an unfaltering stare to counter the Signer beside us. Just when I think the adorable testimony of strength is done with, HT points a stem at the duelist in a manner that reminds me all too much of a yelling, giant blond and throws some foreign insults Yusei's way.

I spot the humor in Yusei's eyes, the subdued smile on his face. Still, he's quiet.

"Getting tougher by the day, aren't we?" I finally laugh. HT turns the wagging appendage on me, scolding. I put my friend in my lap and hold up the hand, a white flag. "Okay, okay. I'm on your side, remember?"

The plant pouts, arms raveling into little fists at their sides.

"I'll be more careful, if that's what you're trying to say." HT blinks, then allows a green leaf to extend toward me. I do the same with my pinkie and we shake on it. "Alright then, I think that's it for now. I'm going to let you go, but we'll talk again real soon. And if you see the others, tell them I'll talk to them soon, too."

HT stands straight and gives a crisp salute. The baby-faced expression returns with little effort and the plant stretches their weedy arms out like a child demanding to be picked up. I comply, utterly weak against the guy, and bring the spirit back up to my nose. HT snuggles me goodbye and, this time, I realize there's warmth in the touch. Like the pad of a finger pressed into skin or the meager heat waves surrounding a lit candle, I can feel HT's energy.

The spirit's life.

Then it's gone in a blink.

I stare at the card's picture briefly and turn my sights on Yusei, smiling. "So?"

"It was..." Yusei hacks at whatever he was about to say and revamps it: "You're wonderful."

And for a moment, the only noise between us is the weather report. I don't have anything to say to that, not even my age-old habit of denying compliments rushes in with insecure nos and buts. For once, I allow myself to accept it.

My hands curl one over the other as I turn toward my mini deck. "I don't agree with what you said the other night, about having control. But it's moments like these that help me get my bearings, that make me thankful for being who I am."

"You'll always be you, no matter how much you change." My widened eyes land on Yusei's, his gaze steadfast as can possibly be. "So long as you're who you want to be, Maria."

I remember the two of us in the parking lot underneath Saiga's apartment, how he told me what he thought of my laugh. How even then, my mind and heart and body all agreed they were tired of this "he said, she said" game we play. It was all too much for me, so much that I convinced myself not to care—if I don't care, then I won't be hurt.

But I care. I care so much. Not just about Yusei, but Rua and Ruka, Aki, Crow, Bruno, Jack. I care too much about them all to let anything happen to them. No longer an island drifting hopelessly, no longer robbed of everything I had but myself. I am surrounded on all sides with kindness, support, and laughter.

That's how I need these people: all right where I can see them, right next to me.

To think that I had been angry with Mom for only teaching me how to care about others. I can learn how to care about myself and work out my internal issues at any time, but to know that I have people in my corner regardless, after all that's happened... She had been preparing me, really. Nothing can replace what I lost in the fire, but dammit, I'm not losing anything more.

I will not lose anyone I love again.

So, I reach for his hand. When Yusei's expression shifts, I move it to the couch fabric. "Should I not have?"

"I thought—" His brows push in together, a slight frown driving the whole of his expression upward. "I thought you wouldn't want to do this again because of the other night."

Mixed signals, mixed signals. You and me both, pal.

I try my hardest to look him in the eye, just as he always does me. And I admit one of my many truths to him: "I decided that I don't want to be let go of. I have been before, more times than I'd ever want. And so," I sigh, "maybe I've gotten used to it. But being used to something isn't the same as enjoying it."

I enjoy being around you, Yusei—in any way that I can be. At the end of the day, we are friends. I hope that never changes.

"I understand," he says, hardly above a whisper. There's passion in his eyes. "I won't let that happen again."

I want to feel the promise of his words printed on my skin. With a small smile, I hold out my pinkie. He moves to hold it, realizes his gloves are still on, and makes a point of taking them off first. By his littlest finger, I can sense that composure drafting off him. It ceases for a moment, when Yusei pulls away, but returns with a greater magnitude. My hands aren't small, they're somehow skinny and long like the rest of me. Yet, Yusei's palm mostly covers one. And we sit, him staring and me doing my best to brace the eye contact.

I don't let go, but I remind him of the time. "You don't want to be late for your house call."

Yusei hums and gives a minor nod of his black spikes. I wonder if he's aware of his thumb brushing back and forth over the back of my hand; the reaction seems so natural. I'm reminded of the other night when everything he did was jerky, like it was the first time he'd used his body. Did a switch flip or something?

Gloves back on, he hovers over my spot on the couch. "Think you'll still be here when I get back?"

That question has me taken aback. Though I'm already sure of my answer, my words still come out undecided. "Um, I don't think I was planning on going anywhere else today."

He seems satisfied with that. "I'll see you, then."

It's just me, the chatting broadcasters, and my beating heart. My hand lays over it, relishing in the sweetness of the last few minutes. Feeling the bitterness chip away at my ribcage.

Even if it hurts, I can't afford not to care. I can't be afraid to love.

---

In which Maria becomes a teen mom and realizes she is the most complex brain in that one brain meme lol. Like I stated earlier, this chapter was going to be a lot longer, but I added more parts to the original draft and figured that this is probably for the best that I leave it off here. Plus, including the rest of the chapter would mean I probably wouldn't update for another week AT LEAST. Let me know if anyone, particularly Yusei, seems OOC please!

Looked at a lot of old chapters for quotes/events in this one and ugh, them plot holes man! I'm so thankful to all of you who looked past them and stuck it out for the greater good of the storyline. We wouldn't be going almost six years strong without all of you c:

JAG is my first story ever written and it's taught me so much. Even if the plot holes make me cringe, I'm not gonna bother fixing them completely, just tidy them up. They're apart of the story now and apart of the lessons I've learned as a writer. So, for anyone reading this right now: work out the kinks before, not after! And also recognize that even in your 2nd, 3rd, or however many drafts you make, as long as you are happy with the end result you should be proud of it.

TTFN loves!