Chapter Thirty, Distant songs

Anzu sat on her couch with a blanket bundled around her. Outside, there was hard rain shattering against her apartment. They were thick, wet droplets that were loud as they hit the side of the building, sounding as though they were trying to break through to ravage its inhabitants. The temperature had been steadily dropping and she had only just returned from her practice, soaked and shivering. Only after taking a hot bath and preparing some warm tea did she settle on the couch and relax, her muscles aching from that day's practice. She had a handful of practices under her belt already and although it was strange working with Ryou and his somewhat clumsy accompaniment, it was nice to look at his friendly face when she felt uncertain while dancing.

Sighing, Anzu pulled her blanket around her more securely and glanced out the balcony windows. The rain was forming a shallow puddle that was pouring over the sides of the balcony. She brought the blanket to above her nose and breathed through it, nuzzling against the soft fabric. In spite of herself, she had begun to think of her conversation with her mother more and more. As a child, Anzu had been prone to resent the one that was absent and unable to defend their case; as an adult, however, Anzu had more capable reasoning and understood human relationships by observation, if not necessarily practice. Her mother, she had begun to realize, had done only what her heart felt was right and while Anzu did not feel that it was the wisest decision, she also knew that her mother would not have made any other decision. It was hard to reflect rationally on a situation that had effected Anzu so emotionally for the majority of her life, and while she did not forgive her mother for what she had done to her and her father, she did feel less resentment towards her at having heard her story.

Beyond Sakura's troubled story, though, was the information regarding Yami. Anzu had spent every moment when her mind was not occupied with other things contemplating what her mother had told her about him. It seemed strange to her that a man that she would come to have such affection for had been only feet away from her mother. But then, before moving to Domino, Anzu never would have thought that Sakura or a man like Yami would be present in her life. Anzu recalled that night when Yami had lied in bed next to her and remembered his soft voice when he told her that he wasn't able to talk about his past then. It had stung a bit, but she had understood by what little she knew that it was a sensitive topic and even though he wouldn't admit it, Yami had a sensitive nature. He was reserved in most things and it often caused Anzu to hesitate in her own actions. She wondered whether he was simply like this because of his own personality or if he had learned it from Hanazawa and in spite of herself, she wondered how much Yami's tutor had taught him.

But I guess that's a question to be answered on another day, Anzu thought with a faint smile. There was a sudden knock on her door and at first, she ignored it, thinking it was the rain, but then the knock sounded again, a bit more insistently. Frowning, she rose to her feet and hurried to the door, opening it a crack. Jounouchi was standing outside the door, dripping wet and looking quite like a drowning puppy.

"Puh-lease let me in," he begged at seeing her. Anzu quickly opened the door and Honda trailed in after Jounouchi, both of them looking worse for wear. It wasn't until she had shut the door and urged them to remove their wet garments that she realized Honda had a split lip and there were some scrapes on their faces and Jounouchi's jeans were ripped.

"What in the world have you two been up to?" she demanded, grabbing Jounouchi by the shoulders and staring up at him.

"Don't mother hen us, now, Anzu," Jounouchi grumbled, twisting out of her grip. "It's nothing." She sent him a beady stare and shook her head.

"Well, both of you get undressed. I'll grab you some towels and go wash your clothes."

"What are we supposed to wear?" Honda yelped.

"I'm sure I have some old clothes of my dad's in my closet somewhere. I used to always steal his clothes to lounge in. Now get undressed!" She snapped her fingers at him, glaring, before stomping off. They stared after her and then hesitated, looking at each other uncomfortably. Each of them began to strip their clothes off, grumbling under their breath as they did so. Anzu tossed towels into the entry way without looking and the two scrambled to grab them and then carefully slipped the last bit of clothing off of them. "I put some dry clothes in the bathroom," she called, standing outside the entry way with her arms crossed. "Just leave your wet clothes there and I'll throw them in the washer."

"You sure are being bossy," Jounouchi remarked as Honda dashed past him to the bathroom. Anzu glanced at him and then blushed. He grinned at her pink face and put his hands on his hips, teasing, "What? Never seen a packed guy before? Let me introduce you...to the guns." He winked as he flexed an arm at her. Anzu laughed, blushing in embarrassment, and shoved him away.

"Get! Go to the bathroom!"

"Hey!" He scrambled to grab his towel as it began to slip down.

"Jounouchi!" Anzu shrieked, startling Honda in the bathroom. "Oh my God, I so did not see that! I didn't see that, did I? Oh, you're so dead. I'm going to kill you! Who said you could flash me?!"

"You were the one trying to tear my towel off, eating me up with your eyes..."

"I was doing no such thing!"

"Hey, calm down, calm down, just kidding!"

"Get – in – the – bathroom!"

"I'm goin', I'm goin'! Geez, you'd think she'd never seen a guy's wang before," he commented to Honda as he entered the bathroom, clutching his towel. Honda stared at him wordlessly, fully clothed, and looking speechless. "What? You don't actually think - ?"

"You're clueless," was all Honda said in disgusted tone, shoving past him and causing Jounouchi to grab at his towel again.

After Jounouchi had clothed himself, he sauntered into the living room. Anzu was in the kitchen waiting for tea to boil in the kettle and sent him an evil look as he came into her vision. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his head, laughing nervously. Honda was sitting at the counter, dabbing at his split lip with a wet rag that Anzu had handed him. He glanced at Jounouchi, but his gaze didn't linger long. "Oh, sure, it's all my fault," Jounouchi said, taking a seat by Honda. There was still a dull flush in Anzu's cheeks, but she chose to ignore the entire situation by moving on to a different topic instead.

"What happened to you guys, anyway?" she queried, removing the kettle off the stove once it had begun to squeal.

Jounouchi opened his mouth, likely to repeat his mother hen comment, but Honda intercepted, saying, "Some guys were trying to mess us up, so we beat them down enough to where we could get away." Jounouchi scowled at his friend. Honda gave him a blank look in return. "Sorry, did you have an elaborate story?"

"Man, didn't you hear me when I told you that we weren't going to tell her?"

"Jounouchi Katsuya," Anzu put her hands on her hips, piercing him with a quelling glare, "you'd best rephrase what you just said."

"I won't," he returned, a solemn look crossing his face as he met her stare unblinkingly. "You've got a lot of stuff going on in your life right now, you don't need to know when we run into a little bit of trouble with some punks. We can handle it and we did." Anzu considered him for a moment and, seeing that he was being serious, her face cleared and she dropped her hands, looking at him thoughtfully. Appearing convinced that he had won the conversation, he continued, "But, you know, I don't like that it was so close to your neighborhood. You should be careful when you're going to and from work and stuff."

"Oh, don't worry," she said flippantly. "When I go to my auditions, I'm always with Ryou."

"Ryou?" Honda repeated, comfortable with entering the conversation again. "But that guy's a pussy." Jounouchi turned a horrified gaze to Honda.

"He is not!" Anzu indignantly snapped. "And you'd better not call him that in front of me again! Or at all, for that matter!" She turned from him and removed two cups from the cupboard and then slammed them on the counter, preparing the two tea. Honda winced and slunk down in his seat, mumbling to Jounouchi something that sounded suspiciously like 'PMS,' but Anzu ignored it. She slid the cups to them and then prepared her own cup, her eyes moving to the sliding doors of her balcony. It was still raining hard outside and the smell of the tea was filling the room with a warm atmosphere. She glanced at her friends and smiled at how relaxed they were. They were murmuring about the tea, with Jounouchi stirring it with his finger thoughtfully while Honda drank it contentedly. She hadn't realized how lonely she had been up until they had arrived. It was good to have their carefree company.

"What movies do you have, Anzu?" Jounouchi asked, turning to her.

"They're in the bottom drawer on the entertainment center."

"Score!"

Anzu laughed as he went to the entertainment center and started rummaging through the movies. She took his seat and smiled at Honda. He returned it and the two watched Jounouchi look through the DVDs.

X

"Are you sure you don't want to come with?" Yami asked Sugoroku, standing beside the cab. The driver slammed the trunk after tossing his suitcase in it. Sugoroku considered his grandson for a moment, smoking a cigar, and then turned his gaze to the side thoughtfully, his eyes skimming the street. The villa was located in a fairly quiet residential district. Unfortunately, that did not always work for one's advantage when someone was after them. At last, he turned his gaze away and then looked back to his grandson. He knew that Yami had asked partially out of loneliness more than anything else, which begged the question when Yami had begun to experience any such feelings in the first place.

Smiling a bit, Sugoroku reached out and squeezed Yami's shoulder. "No, I'm sure. It would be best that I stay here in France for a bit. I know that you'll have your hands full and besides, traveling is a bit much for an old man." He reached back and knocked his fast with a fist, rolling his shoulder experimentally. Yami's dry, slightly exasperated look indicated that he doubted that very much. "But Yami..." His eyes flicked to the cab driver's window. "I should caution you to be careful. It's been awhile since you've been in these parts and regardless of where you've been, you can't let your guard down. Don't forget who you are. Letting yourself get too comfortable is a fault that all men come to regret at one point or another. Remain vigilant."

"You seem to think that I wouldn't," Yami remarked and even though a lazy smile crossed his lips, Sugoroku caught the stiffness in his body.

"You have no reason to keep anything from me."

"And I have no reason to tell you anything, grandfather," Yami said, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit. There was a tense pause where the two men stared at each other. Sugoroku, for his part, was surprised by the slight threat in Yami's tone, but his gaze did not waver. Yami sighed and looked away from him, raising a hand and rubbing his face wearily. He drew his hand up to his forehead, staring at the street. A lone cyclist zipped by, disturbing the quiet atmosphere for but a moment. "All I want to do is protect her," he said at last, lowering his hand. "I've involved her in something that she has no comprehension of and yet all she tells me is that she wants to protect me." He smiled, shaking his head. "She doesn't know what that means to me..."

"You found a woman?" Sugoroku asked. "And...you told her about...?"

"I wasn't the one that offered that information, someone else did. Either way, she's become entangled in my affairs and while it's unfortunate, part of me is selfishly happy that I don't have to hide myself from her. She's been far more tolerant than any other woman. I can't tell her everything or else I really would be endangering her. If they ever found her, she would lose her life simply from the information that she had alone. I have to keep her safe from them and from those people."

"Yami, if that's the case, you need to stop running from this and – "

"I've already told you – "

"I know what you've told me," he snapped, "but would you stop and think a moment at what you've lost because of this? I'm not oblivious to what you want. You want to settle down somewhere, permanently, and relax. I know this. But you'll never be able to stop traveling around while this situation exists. I know that it isn't in your nature to do anything unkind, but it might be time to return to what you used to be and use it, effectively, just one last time." To this, Yami was silent. His face had lost some of its colour and he was staring at his grandfather as if he were mad. "Just think about it, Yami." He reached out and patted his arm. "But go on and get going. You'll miss your train if you don't." Yami nodded and the two hugged briefly before Yami stepped into the cab. The driver pulled away and Sugoroku watched the cab roll down the narrow street, his hands in his pockets.

Sighing, he shook his head and then cast a brief glance up and down the street before he returned to the villa.

By the time Yami had arrived at the train station, he only had about five minutes to shove his ticket through, dash across the platforms to his and settle into a seat. After tossing his suitcase above him, he collapsed on a seat and pushed his hands through his hair, releasing a long breath. He glanced to the side to see two women giving him an odd look. Uncomfortable, he flashed them a quick smile and then turned his head from them, staring out at the window to avoid any more awkward exchanges.

"Nouse quitter sous peu...," an automated voice spoke from the front of the railcar. Yami rubbed his forehead, searching for a French translation in his harried mind, but at the moment, it failed him. Instead, he turned his gaze back outside as the train began to move forward. He was sure that his grandfather had noticed, but their conversation had left him somewhat harried and uncomfortable. Even though he had tried to convince himself that this...relationship...or whatever it was might be inconsequential in regards to his actions, he knew that to be untrue. The thought of Anzu being harmed by his parents haunted him and he constantly berated himself for allowing himself to get so close to someone to selfishly keep them in his life.

I could stop it now, he thought. As soon as I get back to Domino, I could abandon it and simply leave. A moment later, he swore at himself. But could I, really? She needs an accompanist and even though I hate to admit it, the money that I would be due from being her accompanist would be helpful for my expenses, in addition to these concerts. He drummed his fingers on the table. The seats on the train were set up so that there was a table in the middle, much like a booth in a restaurant. But I could make it seem as though I'm not interested that way...couldn't I? But she would suspect. Anzu's not stupid and she's far too stubborn to not strangle an answer out of me. Yami had no real answer to his dilemma and for the moment, he left it as it was. He still had a fair amount of time before returning to Domino and he expected that by the time he returned, he would have some sort of plan sorted out. Whether it was one that he would like was another question entirely. Uneasily, he realized that if he did, in fact, withdraw from her, he would have a large amount of angry males on his hands to deal with. Out of all of them, he was more fearful of Jounouchi than of even Malik.

For the remainder of the train ride, Yami brooded, staring out at the French countryside that the train passed through. Every once in a while, a pretty brunette would be looking at him and flash a smile towards him from a few seats down and he would politely return it. Looking at her, however, only reminded him of another pretty brunette several thousand miles away, causing him to continue his pessimistic thoughts. Towards the end of the train ride, the brunette knocked on the top of his table, startling him from his thoughts. She smiled at him and then pointed to the seat next to him. "Do you mind?" she queried. He stared at her blankly, wondering dimly what it was that she seemed to think he would mind. Before he asked, his wits seemed to return to him and he shook his head.

"Erm, no...of course not, take a seat."

"Oh, thank you." She smiled again and settled in the seat beside him. Yami caught a whiff of her perfume and he returned her smile mildly, all the while wishing he wasn't on a train where it was virtually impossible to escape strangers. "I hope you don't mind me being so bold...I just couldn't stop looking at you. You're irresistible."

"Oh?" Yami glanced at her and his eyes narrowed slightly. Even though the girl's face was pleasant and she seemed to have a sweet smile, there was something just behind her bright green eyes that put him on edge. He shifted slightly and then broadened his smile. "Well, I'm glad you came to see me. You're quite the lovely woman."

Giggling, she brushed her hand over his arm. "Oh, please! I'm just another girl to you, I bet. You must be so good with the ladies."

"I do try," he said, sidling a little closer to her. "But I'm afraid I don't quite have the skills that other men do when it comes to flirting."

"I think you're doing quite a good job." He felt her hand move beneath the table and snatched her wrist, pulling it out from underneath just slightly. His gaze darted down and she stiffened.

"A needle, hmm?" With his other hand, he pressed a small blade that he had retracted from his pant pocket. "Careful. We wouldn't want to make a scene." Across from them, the two women were exchanging looks and peering at them. Yami flashed his most disarming smile ever and leaned in close to the girl, murmuring, "So, what's in the syringe? Poison?"

"Don't flatter yourself," she muttered back viciously, although he caught the hint of fear in her voice. "You should know that they don't send people to kill you. They prefer to do that themselves."

"How long have you been following me?"

"Not long. You almost escaped me when I arrived in the city."

"That's a good thing for you, not me," Yami coldly told her, pressing the blade a little closer. She flinched as he drew blood. "Let me give you a bit of a lesson, my dear...small though this blade may be, it doesn't take much to kill a person if you know the right veins and I promise you that I do. So, unless you're eager to experience that, I suggest you not make any sudden movements and to hand that syringe over. I'm guessing the rest of it is in your bag over there, isn't it?" She nodded curtly. "Alright. You'll be handing that over to me when we get off, too." Her lips pursed, but she said nothing and slowly handed the syringe to him. With careful fingers, he tucked the syringe over on his other side. "Good. Now, let's enjoy the rest of the ride, shall we? I hope you don't mind this." He prodded a little deeper with the blade. "For security measures."

Even though he had control of the situation and was reacting as swiftly and calmly as ever, inside, his heart was pounding with adrenaline. He had barely been in Europe, yet his parents had found out his location faster than usual and had sent someone after him. Clearly they were not far behind, as this poison was meant to momentarily indispose of him. He would have to get off at a different station, for surely they were waiting for him at his stop – or a stop that they had determined they would get on or that he would be forced to get off on. These cycles of events were far too unexpected for his liking. He should have anticipated a situation such as this. "Where are they waiting?" he asked at last. She said nothing for a moment. Frowning, he turned the blade and made a thin slice, causing her to wince and bow down slightly. "I asked you a question. And do me a favor and tell the truth. You'll make things harder for yourself if you lie."

"The third stop...," she murmured. "It was enough time for the poison to kick in and I could get you off the train. Then they were going to take you."

"Alright, then you and I are getting off on the first stop."

"Wh...what are you going to do with me?" she whispered, her eyes going round and staring up at him. There was no pretense now; she was frightened. For a moment, Yami felt an inch of regret, as clearly this girl was inexperienced. His parents likely thought this more suited to an experienced woman else she would kill him herself and possibly betray them. His parents' paranoia was one flaw that he took advantage of several times.

"I'll decide that later."

At the first stop, Yami collected her bag and his suitcase and the careful to keep her at his side so that no one could see the blood that was leaking out of the slit he had made, he pulled her off the train. The station was empty and, as far as Yami could tell, there was only a small huddle of houses that acted as a rural town some ways down the road that the station towards. Yami considered the town for a moment and then looked at the girl. He could feel her shaking slightly, but was attempting a brave front. He wondered distantly how Anzu would react to this type of situation. There was so little that seemed to frighten her. Shaking that thought from his mind, he shoved his suitcase to the side and then pulled the girl's bag open, digging around inside. She stood in front of him, silent, as he pulled out several more syringes and a pistol. "Is this yours or did they give it to you?"

"It's mine. For self-defense."

"For - ?" He raised his eyes and then sighed irritably. "What do you do for a living?" She didn't respond. "I asked you a question."

"I'm a dancer," she said at last.

Why am I not surprised? he thought bitterly. "And what all did they tell you?"

"Nothing. They just told me to flirt or seduce you, poison you with the needle, and then they would pay me when we got to the station. They didn't tell me why or what they planned on doing with you, they just came up to me after once of my dance recitals. They...they blackmailed me into doing it. I don't know how to do this. But I had to protect my dance partner. He's married and we've been having an affair, but if anyone found out, it would completely ruin his career. Please, don't kill me...please..." Almost immediately, she started sobbing. Yami watched her impassively for a long moment, not saying anything, running what she had said in his mind.

"Get a hold of yourself," he said at last. She sniffled, wiping her face and blinking blearily up at him, trembling violently. He had known some women to be very good actresses, but it was rarely the women that could hold up such a good, false performance. Typically, Yami found his trouble to be with the men. They were far better at controlling their emotions and creating false emotions than women. This girl truly was frightened and in fear for her life. Not for the first time, Yami was overcome with loathing for his parents' use of other humans for their own vile deeds. He considered the girl for another moment and felt his stomach churn. "No matter what, you're going to die," he told her softly. Once again, she was sobbing.

"Please...please, no..."

"Listen!" he snapped, causing her to halt, shaking as tears streamed down her face. He reached out and swept her dark hair from her face. Cupping her cheek, he gently told her, "Trust me, they won't let you live and they won't be kind. Have courage. I'll be quick." He removed his hand and she was crying in earnest now, silent, gasping tears. His lips thinned, but he simply pulled out one of the syringes and took her arm, pressing the needle into one of her blue veins that could be seen clearly on her thin, white arm. She stared at him uncomprehendingly, hiccupping from her tears. "The poison will knock you out and dull the pain. You won't feel a thing and it will be over in an instant." He tossed the syringe on the railroad tracks and grabbed his suitcase and her bag. "Come on, follow me." He took her hand and pulled her towards the town. She followed him more slowly, sniffling pathetically.

Yami checked into a hotel and dropped off his suitcase and then led the girl away, walking her around the city until she began to get too weak to move. He checked her pulse and finding it slow, he pulled her up to him, supporting most of her weight, and walked some ways from the town. He stood there for a long expanse of time, balancing her against him, although it appeared as though they were sharing a loving embrace. He flicked a look behind and, satisfied that there was no one watching, he eased her further away from the town and into the thicket of trees, although he was now almost dragging her. Once he had gotten far enough into the trees, he rested her down and checked her pulse again. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was partially open. He stood up and sighed, his brow furrowing as he removed a small case from within his jacket. He also removed a pair of gloves from his pocket that he slipped onto his hands.

Kneeling down, he opened the case and removing an instrument with a jagged blade, he parted the girl's legs and with a sickened feeling in his stomach, cut about three inches deep through her inner thigh. She twitched, but the poison was so thick in her bloodstream that she did not wake. After a moment, he cut through the thick artery that lied there. He stood back up, removing the gloves, and carefully cleaned the instrument with a cloth from the case. After returning the instrument, he tucked the cloth inside his glove and returned the ensemble to his jacket. He waited for a few minutes before kneeling beside the girl's head and taking her pulse. Satisfied, he dragged the body further into the thicket, carefully arranging her so that she was beneath bushes and then chose a place some ways from where she was hidden to wait out the time. Only after he had heard a train go by three times did he return to the town. By that time, it was dark.

Yami gathered his suitcase from the hotel and checked out and returned to the train stop. He had taken the girl's bag with him, as well. He would return to Paris and take a flight to a different city in Europe, one where Kaiba hadn't scheduled him – just in case. He sat patiently for the train for some time. Once he saw one approaching, he rose to his feet and handed his suitcase up to the man greeting him. "Hold, please," Yami said, raising a hand and then dashing to the side, puking in the bushes.

"Sir! Are you okay? Are you unwell?" the man called out to him in alarm.

"No, I'm fine," Yami assured, wiping his mouth and giving a quick smile. "A little bit too much to drink the other night, I'm afraid. I'm still getting over the alcohol."

"Please, come inside and we'll get you some lemon water."

Once Yami had paid for a new ticket and had collapsed in a seat heading back to Paris, he curled up against himself and wondered at the horror that he had performed that day. It brought back dreadful memories and yet all he could think was his grandfather's words, as though echoing what he would be forced to do that day: "I know that it isn't in your nature to do anything unkind, but it might be time to return to what you used to be and use it, effectively, just one last time."

I killed a girl so that she would not be tortured by my parents. If she was lucky, she would have simply gotten a gunshot to the head. Instead, I dulled her senses and let her slip off while I killed her. It took but two minutes for her to bleed out. But what person can kill so coldly, without any hesitation, simply for their own survival? Yami pushed his face into his hands, remembering her serene face after he had killed her. What kind of person am I?

X

DIS: Yes, yes, I know this chapter was long overdue. And, it was a hard one to get through because I want to jump straight to the next chapter, which is far more interesting. In any case, please leave a review telling you how you liked it, any speculations you have, etc. And as always, thank you for reading! Ciao!