When Yusei wakes up, it's to a pair of unfamiliar, cold grey eyes.
Yusei's not sure whether they remind him more of an hawk or a serpent, but the gaze leaves him feeling vulnerable and alone like prey. Or maybe it's just the sudden absence of something else in his world that leaves him that way. He isn't sure. Nothing quite feels right enough to tell.
"Yusei, was it?" The man says, sitting in a chair beside the bed Yusei is on. "My name is Rex Godwin."
Yusei stares at him, through a haze that makes both reality and his body feel strange and sluggish.
"I am the king of Neo Domino," Rex says. "And I'd like to ask you a few questions."
Yusei meets Martha at dawn, when the light casts everything in a shade of orange that makes things hard to distinguish from a dream. He meets her with a knight at his side, who escorted him from the castle, down winding streets that Yusei hobbled through with his half healed leg. A mage from the King's council had seen to it, mending bone and flesh while Yusei had been asleep. He's told it will finish healing on it's own in a couple weeks at most.
"By the King's orders, I was tasked with escorting this boy to you, ma'am. His name is Yusei Fudo," The knight says, laying a hand on Yusei's shoulder, who hides behind the knight's leg like a shield. "He was told to look for you. His parents have… passed."
Martha kneels to look Yusei in the eyes - she has pretty eyes, Yusei thinks, shaped a bit like his mother's. But they were the wrong color, he could tell that even in the twilight shadowed world he was in where things sounded strange and felt more empty than before.
"Yusei," Martha says, in a soft voice. "I'm sorry."
Yusei says nothing, but lets the knight guide him forward and faces Martha directly.
"What happened to your leg, Yusei?" Martha asks, observing the limp Yusei shows as he steps toward her.
"He seemed to have been in some altercation prior to arriving at the castle," The knight continues. "His leg was broken, but it's been mended by magic. Of course, it'll need some additional time to heal..."
"Of course," Martha says, still staring at Yusei, who moves his gaze to the ground. "I'll take care of him from here. Thank you."
The knight salutes, and before turning to leave, pats Yusei on the shoulder.
"Good luck, kid." The knight says.
Yusei doesn't talk to the other kids much.
He doesn't talk at all, in fact.
Yusei does his chores and interacts with everyone on a basic level - he helps clean up the table after meals and he never quite ignores anyone, always holding a door open for Martha or handing someone an item they've asked for, but he doesn't use his words and someone always asks him why.
He doesn't have an answer for them.
"Do you want to talk about it, Yusei?" Martha asks.
She comes by and sits with him, at the end of the day, when the sun leaves and Yusei is left alone in the dark, waiting for his mother to start on his lessons with him or his father to call him in for dinner. They sit outside, by the steps, because it's the only thing that's built like his house back in Satellite - the style isn't quite right, and it's much older, but the color and the arrangement of the tiles is almost the same, almost enough to pretend he's somewhere else if he looks at nothing else.
Yusei opens his mouth to respond, but the words end up being swallowed by something he can't see, something dark in the corner of his eye. Fear rises up instead of words, and he feels them catch in his throat, still scratchy and sore from a time when he used it.
Yusei, in the end, says nothing.
Yusei wakes up one night, to the chill breeze flowing in from the window next to him and the tapping of the tree branches against the glass.
He gets up to close it: there's this little girl with red hair that Martha recently took in, she's frail and gets sick easily, so Yusei knows the house shouldn't be allowed to get too cold. But when he reaches the windowsill, he feels it: the faint remnants of magic in the air, something familiar and something comforting. It comes in with the wind, brushing through his hair with a touch of fondness.
Yusei lifts himself up and over the windowsill, doing his best to close the window as he goes without creating much noise. The room that he shares with the other kids is on the second floor, so he has to make his way over to a sturdy enough tree branch to begin his climb down. He's never actually climbed a tree before, so most of the experience is an effort of balance and caution. It concludes with him scrambling down the trunk with no finesse, but he managed to avoid flat out falling so it's good enough for now.
Yusei looks back up at the window: getting back will be a problem, but it's a problem for another time. His leg doesn't buckle under the weight, and for added measure Yusei tests putting all his weight on his right leg: no pain, no no weakness. It's healed in the month he's spent at Martha's, so at the very least, that won't slow him down.
Magic and it's user are heavily intertwined entities - magic spawns within people, and they harness it in a multitude of ways. But magic isn't simple, Yusei. It's not something so easily controlled, or necessarily easily made, as you'd notice. With most normal people, magic is one with their essence, their lifeforce. They create it and use it, and with practice, it can be just as normal as using your arm. But it is never easy.
Following magic isn't easy, and it is, like magic tends to be, peculiar in how it works. It has to be personal in a sense, something one has interacted with recently, and it has to be close because it just isn't easy to track long-range: too much gets in the way to really follow it. Added to that is a short lifespan - magic doesn't stay in the air very long after it disperses, and it becomes easy to lose track of if there's a lot of different kinds in the air. Some say it's because of the personal factor - that we just forget magic we haven't felt in some time, like we forget the faces of someone we don't see in a while.
What do you think, Yusei? Would you forget my face, or your mother's, if you didn't see it for a long time?
He closes his eyes. He can still see their faces, hear their voices. He holds onto an image of his parents and the first time he successfully passed one of his mother's strategy puzzles: he can almost feel the touch of his father's hand on his shoulder and the tight embrace of his mother, can recall the warm words and praises he had earned that day. How long, Yusei wonders, until he loses those, too? How long until the memories fade along with the presence in his life, until he can't remember their faces, their voices, their essence, and their impact?
The trail of magic wavers, but Yusei can feel it, even with his low sense of magic. North, north-west, beyond the inner city walls, that's where the trail points to, and the only place that would make sense.
A bond is a bond, Yusei thinks, and he won't lose this too: not the memory, and not the connection.
He sets off, down the city streets, mindful of any knights on patrol. It's too late to have a viable excuse as to why he's out, too late to think of one that a child could accurately pull off. Memories of his interactions with the Security division of knights back in Satellite rear up, and Yusei can't find it in himself to trust the one's in the city yet. Better to avoid the situation altogether, though it does cost him a little extra time to weave his way around some of the more guarded streets.
He finds the trail again once he passes the city gates - it takes a fair bit of luck and timing to slip past the guard there; a small opportunity gained from a combination of his small size, the poor lighting of a single torch, and the expected observational skills from a man who kept yawning for several minutes.
He finds the magic easiest to sense in the wind, and the wind was blowing from the south, but a little pull at his senses points toward the large wooded area, used mostly for the private use of the King, or so Martha has said. Yusei doesn't know what exactly the King alone uses it for, since he didn't ask, but can't imagine that the King is using it right now, so it's probably alright if goes in for a short time. He crosses the bridge over the large river and heads into the woods with that thought in mind.
The forest looks much different than the one he had encountered bandits in: it's much more spaced out, the growth of the trees, the bushes, and wildlife has been contained and trimmed and managed. Yusei doesn't trip over any of tree roots or stumble through any brambles, even in the dark with only the moonlight filtering in from the open patches in the tree branches above to see the path before him.
The walk is a long one. The path twists and tangles, looping back and intersecting with itself, which Yusei suspects makes a large intentional design should he look at the forest and it's paths on a map. It's quiet, though on occasion Yusei hears the rustle of leaves and the blur of movement, and it's always some animal, some creature that darts away too quick for him to properly look at. It's unnerving, but safer than the wild woods he had been in before, so Yusei moves on.
He reaches his destination by the very edge of the forest, at a small clearing near the river. Even without the faint trail of magic, it was very hard to miss this spot once he got close enough.
"Yusei," Stardust says, turning away from his reflection in the water to look at him. "Why are you here?"
Yusei doesn't answer.
"I told you it was best that we do not meet again," Stardust goes on to say, despite the lack of response. "It's safer for you to be elsewhere. Go home, Yusei."
He doesn't have a home anymore.
Yusei walks toward Stardust, walks faster onto the sandy shore of the river where the dragon stands, until he flat out starts running. Stardust doesn't move, doesn't falter as Yusei throws himself at him, throwing his arms around Stardust's leg and clinging to it like it's the last lifeline he has.
"Kiddo…"
He won't cry, Yusei thinks, he won't cry, he won't, but he does anyway because he's weak. He's weak and shaking and sobbing and Stardust just lets him, for seconds, minutes, eons as far as Yusei can tell. Yusei uses one arm to rub at his eyes and scratch away the tears, but Stardust's tail flicks him in the nose for that. Yusei stops his soundless cries for a moment, blinking away tears and surprise as the tail flicks him again. Yusei swats at it.
"Don't hide your sorrow, Yusei," Stardust murmurs, lowering his head so that it is eye level with Yusei. "Emotions can be your strength, just as much as they can be your weakness. But if you bottle them up, you doom yourself to pain and isolation."
Yusei hesitates, but nods, and lets Stardust pick him up and deposit him on his shoulder. Stardust returns to standing at his full height, and they both gaze down at the river and the watery reflections that cast in it.
"Be strong, Yusei," Stardust says. "Grief is not weakness. It is merely a sign that you have a heart. Now, tell me why you are here. I assume it's not simply because you were near when I landed."
Yusei points at their reflection.
"The river? No. Me?" Stardust asks, and receives a short nod from Yusei. "Why don't you speak, Yusei?"
Yusei opens his mouth, and makes an attempt to say something, anything, but as usual he can't bring any words to surface. His touches his neck with his hand, and just shakes his head. Stardust tilts his head, and Yusei isn't sure if he understands, but he doesn't ask any further.
"I can't stay here long," Stardust says, to the river, because Stardust doesn't look at him but keeps his gaze steady with their mirror images. "I shouldn't have stopped here in the first place - it's too close to humans. I just - I wanted to - I thought I'd be able to sense you, from here, with a little use of magic. And I feared that you might be doing unwell, that the human king here would not keep his word to keep you safe."
Yusei swings his leg back and forth, an open display of how healed it is. Stardust nods, and flicks him one more time with his tail. Yusei is ready for it this time though, and bats it out of the way before he actually nails him in the forehead again. Yusei smiles, and Stardust rubs his head against him after a moment's hesitation. It's affectionate and gentle, and Yusei tries replicate the gesture but it just results in his hair becoming an even greater mess than usual.
"I'm not sure how you tracked me down so easily," Stardust says. "For a child that claims to be inept at magic, there's something strange about how you feel, Yusei."
Stardust actually turns to look at him, breaking the stare off with their reflections to stare Yusei directly in the eyes. It's an intense stare, with Stardust's golden eyes seeming so bright even in the dark, like it had a glow to it that was stunning and fearsome all at once. Yusei blinks, and wonders if he'd be able to say anything even if he could speak then.
"But I am glad you are well," Stardust murmurs. "I will wait with you until dawn, then I must go. Do not despair, kiddo. Your parents live on through you. Everything they have done, all their teachings, all their love; it remains with you. You are not alone."
The moon overhead crosses the sky in the time they wait in the forest, beginning to dip beyond the trees as the light starts to creep up from the opposite side. The white noise of the forest and the running of the river cradle Yusei into a lull, where he lies his head on Stardust and tries to remember voices he's doomed to forget.
We always forget some things, his mother has told him, it's just the flaw of human memories, I'm afraid. But the things closest to our heart: we never really truly forget those. It just sometimes takes a little while to remember, that's all.
"Do you want to talk about it, Yusei?" Martha asks.
She comes by and sits with him, at the end of the day, when the sun leaves and Yusei is staring up at the sky, up at the stars and wondering what his dad would do to fix the wobbly table they eat on in the dining hall, how he'd be able to improve things with ease even without magic. They sit outside, by the steps, because his mom always said fresh air was better for you, even though she never quite explained why, but Yusei takes in a deep breath of air and lets it clear his head, clear his body with a touch of something cold but also something that tasted like a promise to meet again.
"Yes," Yusei says. "I do."
Yusei starts talking more again, and he never really gets around to explaining why.
He's not as talkative as he once was with his parents, but he tries, he really does, to talk to the other kids and Martha, to use his words to express what his actions cannot. It doesn't matter much in the long run, his voice barely makes a dent in the amount of noise that they all collectively make as a orphanage full of children, but people forget and then people ask why, and Yusei always means to come up with an answer but never does, pushing it to the lower end of his priorities.
Because he never quite makes his own answer, others do for him. And the most popular answer is a boy named Crow.
Crow is about Yusei's age, with reddish-orange hair that sticks off his head like the end of a particularly unruly broomstick. Yusei sees him around the house, playing games with other kids, doing his share of chores like everyone else, but there's never been a reason for them to so much as exchange even a few words. The only reason Yusei even knows Crow's name is because he gets in trouble the most often, and he can hear Martha's scolding from the front porch pretty well every night, when Crow comes back with stolen trinkets or breaks something again by accident.
But sometime between his time of silence and his time of making an effort, somehow Yusei catches Crow's notice.
Yusei first realizes this on a rainy night when he wanders the house, the ghosts of a burning village following him through the wooden hallways of the orphanage. It's late and everyone else is sleeping, or at least supposed to, but it's a night where Yusei can't get the face of his mother out of his mind, the soft brown eyes and pale skin going up in flames, so when he can't sleep he moves to sit out on the front porch, where he can watch the rain fall and feel the fresh air but neither drown in his memories or the water.
It just happens that tonight he's not the only one still up.
Crow jumps when Yusei steps outside onto the porch, with the creaking of the wooden panels not enough to cover in his sharp intake of air. He's sitting on the front steps, and holds something close to his chest, and when Yusei peers at it closely, it appears to be a small bird, weakly chirping at him in the moonlight.
"You can't tell Martha," Crow says, when Yusei moves towards him.
The bird's wing is broken. Yusei can see the odd angle it's bent in, can see the slow way it's small chest rises and falls, becoming more and more faint as each second ticks by.
"It's dying," Yusei says.
"I know," Crow tells, looking back down at the broken mess in his hands. "I'm… I accidentally hurt it. I'm trying to fix it."
A living creature can't be fixed like chair can, Yusei. Some animals are resilient, some are not. And sometimes life is cruel to those who are weak in particular. And this cat… Well... I'm sorry, Yusei. There's nothing else we can do for it now but give it a proper burial. Here, let me show you how.
He stares at Crow and the bird, trying to convey that lesson to them without speaking, only to realize Crow isn't looking, and Crow is barely literate with written words, how could he know what Yusei means if he doesn't say it?
"I don't think you can save it," Yusei tells him, and watches as Crow's face crumples up like parchment. Regret, immediate regret, he did not plan this out well. Yusei doesn't know what to say to make it better so he stops again.
"It was all alone," Crow says. "It was alone and I didn't notice it and I stepped on it when I tried sneaking back inside and I… I didn't mean to."
Yusei sits down next to him.
"Will you tell Martha that I was out past curfew again?" Crow asks, his eyes still on the bird, a trace of tears gathering in his eyes.
"No."
"Why are you awake, then?"
Yusei thinks of his mother, the taste of ash in his mouth, the feeling of fire at his back with nowhere to run.
"Couldn't sleep," Yusei settles on, because it's a simpler truth. "You?"
"...Couldn't sleep either," Crow admits. "Went around the inner walls just because I could. I used to live out there, and I guess I miss it a little."
"You lived in the inner city?"
"Yeah, in the slum district like everyone else with no parents. Security brought me here after they caught me trying to steal some bread." Crow pets the bird gently, eyes staring off at the sky. "I guess I got lucky. Most adults get sent to Satellite for stealin'."
"I'm from Satellite," Yusei says, and Crow's head swivels toward him, tears momentarily forgotten.
"You got sent to Satellite?" Crow asks, "But you're just a kid like me!"
"I was… born there," Yusei says.
"I thought people got sent there for doing bad stuff. Kids can get stuck there because of they're born there?"
"They used to. It got attacked a few months ago. That's why I'm here, instead of with my parents. It's ruined now."
"Oh. Sorry."
It's get quiet for a few minutes, while Crow shuffles his feet against the dirt and Yusei traces his name down on the wooden boards with a finger. It takes a bit, but then Yusei realizes that too much quiet is not a good sign.
"The bird…"
Crow holds it in his hands, something still and something cold.
"I… I wanna bury it."
So they do.
In the back garden where Martha tends to a small patch of flowers, next to where they grow their food, Yusei helps Crow dig out a shallow grave with their hands. They work in silence, trying to pry out some space from the hard earth.
"This is how you bury someone, right?" Crow asks, and Yusei nods. "I don't really know how. Do birds bury their own, or is that just people?"
Crow lowers the bird down gently, covering it with dirt like a blanket, and leaving a small rock as a headstone.
"You're… Yusei, right? I'm Crow." Crow says. "Thanks. You know. For helping and stuff."
Yusei nods, and rubs at his eyes. His dreams are fading, and his tiredness is catching up with him. So he turns to go back inside, and Crow joins him, matching him step for step as they head back to the front porch.
"What's that?" Crow points to the ring held on a string around Yusei's neck.
"A memento."
"A Moment?"
"A memento."
"A Momentum?"
"...Yes."
"Cool. What does that mean?"
"It's a ring that belonged to my father." Yusei murmurs, reaching up to touch the cool metal swinging from his neck. "It's something to remember him by."
"What was it like, having parents?"
Like a sharp stab at his heart; Yusei thinks of a warm house, the laughter of his parents, and their hands holding his. He thinks of their faces, of their voices, of their memories, and knows what he can remember is but a fraction of who they were. Words don't describe the feeling of completeness, of being a unit that functioned with two others that were ripped away far too soon.
He doesn't have an answer for Crow.
Four months into his stay at the orphanage, Yusei walks slowly in a crowd full of strangers, the kind of people he's supposed to be wary of because the market near the castle were prime targets for thieves and he really couldn't afford to be pickpocketed today.
Yusei's has his arms wrapped around a small package, tracing the mark on the front with an absent mind and a heavy heart. Because of the way he holds it and his almost single minded determination to not let it go, he manages to prevent it from slipping out of his grasp when someone collides full force with him from behind; a boy that's turning the corner like he's being chased by a dragon, looking over his shoulder instead of in front of him, and naturally not noticing the obstacle that is Yusei standing in his path.
The result of an immovable object versus an unstoppable force is that both boys end up on the ground, a pile where Yusei finds himself on the bottom and immediately tries to get out from it.
"Ow!" The other boy grumbles. "What the heck? Why were you just standing there?"
Yusei's response is to crawl his way to freedom. The boy eventually gets the hint, getting off and sitting with his back against the wall. Yusei sighs, finally able to breathe without a heavy weight on top of his lungs, and checks to make sure the package wasn't damaged; it seems his arms took the brunt of the fall, Yusei inspects his skinned forearms with only a second's glance before double checking the paper and rope that kept the package together. It was fine, the insignia on the front intact, and Yusei nods to himself before looking up at the boy who knocked them both over.
Purple eyes and blonde hair, and a face displaying a pronounced frown, like a boy who had understood the theory but never quite learned how to smile in practice. Yusei pegs him as nobility the exact moment he sees his clothes - they're clean, pristine clothes that nobody in this neighborhood would wear, even better than the nice clothes he used to wear when he lived with his parents. The older kids at the orphanage told him the richer looking you are, the more likely you'll be targeted by thieves, so Yusei decides to take his package and the tattered clothes on his back elsewhere.
His attempt at leaving is halted when the kid pulls him back and uses him like a shield, because a pair of guards round the same corner and stop, looking around before hurrying on. Their gazes sweep over Yusei's dark hair and dirty clothes, just barely enough to distract from the other kid in a white hooded cloak trying to hunch behind him.
Yusei is released when the guards move out of sight and the blonde boy feels comfortable enough to let them both stand up. He's taller than Yusei by a few inches, and everything about him sticks out like a sore thumb.
"Look," The boy says, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm trying to stay out of Security's notice, and didn't mean to knock you over, okay? Sorry. But I need help and you have to help me."
Yusei makes a face at this.
"It's your fault I fell," The boy insists. "So you have to help me get out of here. I can't be caught okay? I'll be in huge trouble if I am."
Yusei stares off at a cloud that looks like it's shaped like a lumpy hedgehog.
"Ugh, can't you at least point me in the direction of where I need to go?" Jack demands. "So that you're not entirely useless?"
"Nothing in this world is useless," Yusei says, more out of reflex than a desire to communicate with someone who barrelled into him with all the grace of a broken wheelbarrow.
Before the boy can respond, and before Yusei can just turn and run off like he had been meaning to, shouting and the should of people in armor distract them. Security is causing a ruckus in the market square, holding up the flow of people and shouting something or another. Yusei isn't sure what's going on; before anytime Security held up people like this it was in Satellite, and those were never anything good. So Yusei turns to the boy and grabs him by the arm and leads him down a quiet alley, one small enough to be overlooked and easy enough for two kids to slip down through. The boy doesn't seem used to being pulled along, initially resisting and then tripping a few times before getting into the rhythm of Yusei's pace.
"Can't you talk or something?" The boy huffs once they stop, a few blocks away from the market.
"Yes." Yusei says, letting go and returning to hugging his package with both arms.
"Then why don't you?"
Yusei says nothing. The boy scowls at him.
"...That insignia is the symbol of the king," The boy says, glancing at the package in Yusei's arms. "Did you steal that?"
"No."
"Then how'd you get it?"
"Returned to me."
"What?"
"It's belongs to me by right." Yusei whispers, holding it close. "So it was given back to me."
"The king never gives anything back, especially not to peasants," The boy snarls. "You're just a thief, aren't you?"
"It belongs to me by right." Yusei insists, thinking of kings and haziness, and a deeply rooted knowledge that this was how it should be.
As it turns out, the boy is not only unusually loud and capable of sticking out like a sore thumb, but stronger than Yusei too, as they find out in a sudden struggle for the package in his arms. The boy tears it from Yusei's grasp and the paper rips, sending its contents flying. A note flutters out, as well as something far more important. Yusei shoves the boy aside and dives for it, while the boy scrambles for the letter on the ground.
Yusei catches it before it can go to far, landing nearly face first onto the brick pavement. The boy snatches up the note and stands up.
"What does this say?" The boy squints at the writing. "...Oh."
Yusei stands up, and the paper is thrust into his face. He looks around it at the boy, who refuses to make eye contact with him. Yusei takes the paper.
Yusei Fudo,
You may not remember me very well. I met you for a short time after you were brought to my castle. In this package I have enclosed something to you, something we discussed during your brief stay.
This is yours by right of inheritance, and I believe that it should be returned to you. I had my men bury the fallen in Satellite, and this was recovered before we put your father's body to rest.
I knew your father well and admired the work he did, and I was saddened to hear of his and your mother's passing. They were great assets to the kingdom and loyal mages. May you continue on as your parents living legacy.
Signed,
King Rex Godwin
Yusei looks down at his hand, the one curled around his gift, his inheritance. He opens it up and forces himself not to look away. His father's ring, the carved ring that matched his mother's, gleamed in the dim light, a dull silver and several sizes too big for his own hand but that was fine, everything was fine.
He never thought that he'd see it again.
"...Are you crying?" The other boy says, looking away and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Listen, I'm sorry, okay? You're not a thief, I take it back. That's… That's definitely the king's writing."
Yusei shakes his head, and reaches to rub away his tears only to stop. It's fine. He has something of his father; he doesn't need it but he will treasure it, it's a reminder, like the teachings his parents gave him, like the advice Stardust has told him. He can be strong. He can cry. He'll be okay.
He's not alone.
"What's your name?" Yusei asks, smiling.
"...Jack."
"Where do you want to go, Jack?"
Jack stares at him like he grew an extra arm, but seems to shake it off in preference for going with the sudden change in Yusei's demeanor.
"Anywhere away from the castle. ...Outside of the inner walls would be cool."
So Yusei leads him out past the inner wall. It takes a lot of weaving through roads and ducking behind other travelers to avoid the notice of Security, but Jack seems to think it's fun, smirking every time they dodge notice, and Yusei isn't much inclined to disagree on that stance.
They make it onto the bridge when Jack spots something.
"There," He says, pointing at the forest. "I want to go there."
Yusei looks. It's the forest he found Stardust in, a small blind spot in the kingdom's defense, being so close to the river and the inner walls at the same time. At the far end of the forest was a mountain backing it, making it a bit of an enclosed forest that Yusei hadn't noticed in the dark. Stardust could easily access it by flying low over the mountain and down into the woods, but most other people would find it impossible to access the city via that route.
"That's the king's private forest," Yusei says. "We're not supposed to go in."
"It'll be fine, trust me." Jack says, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him along into the entrance. "It's not like the king is using it right now anyway, right?"
Yusei can't argue with this logic, so he follows without a word.
The woods are much more clear and beautiful within the sunlight, Yusei finds. He's able to notice the local flora and smaller animals and the overall atmosphere is much less stressful. Yusei wonders what Stardust would think, had he been able to stay past dawn to see it all. He probably would have liked it, and lifted Yusei up so he could pick some of the fruit in the higher branches.
"So this is the royal private hunting grounds?" Jack says, craning his neck to look around at everything. "I expected it to be… bigger. But I guess it's okay."
Jack walks up to a tree that looks older than the kingdom itself, and taps at the bark like he's expecting it to do something. A squirrel leaps off a lower branch and makes an escape, but otherwise the tree remains the same.
"So this is what it's like in the outer walls?" Jack scoffs, turning back to Yusei and crossing his arms. "I don't see what all the appeal is then."
"This is still within the kingdom's safety," Yusei tilts his head to the side. "It's not as nice outside the barrier."
"What would you know?" Jack says, "I bet you've never even been outside the outer walls either."
Yusei shrugs.
"C'mon," Jack says, heading deeper into the forest. "I've heard there are deer in here and I want to see one."
"What's a deer?" Yusei asks, falling into pace just a step behind Jack.
"How can you not know what a deer is? Do like, commoners just live in ignorance or ﹘ ", Jack throws his arm out and Yusei walks right into it, a barrier that stops him as they both listen, to the quiet forest and the definite sound of footsteps approaching. Jack pulls at his arm and drags him into the bushes, a mirror event of their first escape from Security. It's a much closer parallel than Yusei would have thought, because a few seconds after Jack pushes Yusei beneath some thick ferns, Security dashes by again.
Jack's white clothes provide to be just as much of a beacon as Yusei suspected it would, because he's spotted immediately. The reaction of being caught doing something he knew they weren't supposed to, however, is swept aside in seconds because instead of yelling at Jack, the three Security guards kneel.
"Took you long enough," Jack says, stepping out of the ferns, slightly kicking Yusei in the process. "I've been wandering around all day."
"We know, prince," A man says, with dark hair and thick eyebrows. He stands up, a rather tall man with a broad nose and an expression of respect that seems forced. "The King has been worried about you."
"I doubt that Ushio," Jack says, walking past him, back towards the entrance. "My father hasn't cared a day in his life about what I'm doing, so long as it's nothing fun."
"You know we have to escort you back to the castle, Prince Jack," Ushio says, as the other two officers stand up and move to flank him.
"Yeah whatever," Jack waves them off with a dismissive hand. "I had a just fine time getting around on my own today. It was nice for a change."
"Were you with something else?" Ushio says, looking around the forest and glaring at a squirrel that looked at him funny. "We heard reports that you entered in here with someone else, someone who led you here?"
Yusei holds his breath.
"Are you stupid?" Jack says, not even stopping. "Do you see anyone else? This is my father's private hunting grounds, no one else would be dumb enough to go in here. Hurry up or I'll tell my father you lost me again because you were too slow to keep up."
Yusei can't really see much more from his angle on the ground, beneath fern leaves and the branches of a nearby bush, so Jack must have taken the path that led back around the corner, past the large tree they stopped at. Security seems in no rush to take off after him. Apparently, Yusei had been running around all day with someone of nobility, which he could tell, but also someone who was the prince, which Yusei had, admittedly, not even known existed, because no one told him the King had a son.
"What the hell is with that brat's attitude?" Ushio says, low enough that only the other officers would hear, and Yusei due to sheer proximity. "Can't believe we're stuck on babysitting duty for a kid who thinks he's king already."
"It's technically a great honor," Another officer says. The other two stare at him with all the enthusiasm of a bird with a broken wing and a missing leg, and he instead offers: "...We could be stationed somewhere worse."
"Yeah, whatever," Ushio says. "It's better than being stationed in Satellite, I'll give you that. What a shithole that place was. I served there for a few years, and let me tell you, I'm glad I got re-assigned. Place was overflowing with trash."
Yusei's nails curl into the dirt beneath him.
"Seriously? It's a good thing then that you got put here, since that got attacked pretty quick after war was declared."
"I know," Ushio nods, and gestures for them to move forward. "Come on, let's hurry after the brat before he gets loose again."
They were wrong, Yusei knew, watching their shadows and listening to the fading sounds of their footsteps, they were wrong because Satellite wasn't overflowing with trash, it was overflowing with people, people who had nowhere else to go because they couldn't. People with lives and hopes and dreams.
People who died horribly because Security didn't protect them. People who lived horribly because Security never protected them.
Yusei uncurls his fists, now caked with dirt, and stands up, moving out of the shade of the ferns and back into the well lit path.
That had to change. Something needed to be done about Security, about the poison that ran through it, the hatred and dismissal of lives.
When something's broken, Yusei, his mother has told him, it's best to first start by understanding what is causing the problem in the first place. When a stream is blocked, undoing the blockage is a good start, but the best course of action is to find out what is blocking the river, and why. The root of the problem must be addressed, otherwise the stream will just become clogged again and again.