Chapter Thirty-Eight, Promises to be kept

Kaiba rubbed his face and then raised his head as Malik flopped unceremoniously next to him, an ice pack to his head. With the exception of Ryou, Kaiba had been the only one who had escaped the chaos without an injury. Bakura had received more than a few cuts from knife-happy thugs and Yami had been shot at more than anyone else. One such shot had skimmed his ribs and another slash at him had crossed his stomach. The shot was shallow and had barely hit him, but the knife injury had needed stitches. Sugoroku had followed his grandson while he was stitched up. Ryou was with Seiji while they took care of Anzu's far more serious wounds.

"It's my fault," Malik muttered. "If I had paid attention – "

"It's as much her fault as it is hers," Kaiba interrupted callously. He felt the blonde stiffen beside him. "To receive that deep of a gunshot wound, to have it shatter like that...she would have had to be standing there and taking it. There's no point in blaming yourself for that."

"She won't be able to dance again after this."

"She said that she didn't want to anyway."

"And what, this is just another way to ensure that she doesn't dance?" Malik demanded angrily, turning to him and dropping his ice pack. "What kind of attitude is that?"

"A realistic one." Kaiba dug around in his pockets for his cigarettes, but his fingers returned empty. Scowling, he dropped back in his chair, his head throbbing. "Have you forgotten who has to smooth this mess over after all of this? Anzu wasn't the only dancer who received injuries on that stage. The police were swarming the place by the time Sugoroku and his men showed up to find Yami beating Rei's skull in with the end of his pistol. The man's face is barely recognizable. There were corpses all over the theatre from Bakura's men, who scattered as soon as they heard police sirens. Three of my men were killed. Do you know the type of scandal that could be attached to Kaiba Corporation if they find out I was involved with this shit?"

Malik's mouth compressed into a tight, furious white line. His eyes darted around the waiting room that was largely unoccupied. Leaning forward, he spat, "Is that all you care about right now? Yourself? I'll be surprised if Yami even comes out of this with half his mind left, he was literally covered in his father's brains. At least think of him if you won't think of Anzu."

"I brought them here and I made it clear the doctors were to treat this with the utmost confidentiality," Kaiba replied steadily. "If I was thinking of myself, I would have said 'fuck it' and let you all take care of it, but I didn't."

"Because of your duty."

"No. Frankly, I don't care about Yami. He should have done that years ago, rather than let it get to this point. That's his own goddamn fault. I got stuck going down a muddy rabbit hole and even if I pulled out now, my name would be all over it. I'm covering my tracks as best as I can and trying to do the same for everyone else." Kaiba leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his face again. He was too exhausted to handle Malik right now. Upon hearing door open, he raised his head and saw Ryou heading toward them, an anxious furrow between his eyebrows. "The lot of you are already too deep in," he added softly. "You, Ryou, Yami, Bakura...you all have a criminal history. What does Anzu have? She had a spotless reputation and a future. She didn't deserve any of this, but she brought it on herself." As Ryou stopped in front of them, Kaiba rose to his feet. Kaiba nodded to him and then looked back at Malik, who seemed bereft of words. "Think about who you should really be pissed at before you start taking shots at me, Ishtar."

Bewildered, Ryou watched as Kaiba hastened past him, his hands shoved in his black trench coat. "Did something happen?" Ryou asked hesitantly, glancing down at the blonde.

Ignoring the question, Malik slumped in his seat and returned his ice pack to his head. "How is Anzu?"

"She's alright, but..."

"But?"

"I...don't know what to say." Ryou settled next to him and then buried his face in his hands. "I just don't know..."

X

"It's been a long time, old friend."

Yami looked up from the papers he had been rifling through, startled. He had been packing away papers in his rented flat in London. His heart had immediately begun to hammer in his chest upon hearing the voice, but Hanazawa was standing in the doorway languidly, his hands clasped in front of him. It had been many years since Yami had last seen him, a reminder that he had run from him just as he had his parents. At first, he was frozen, the papers lying useless in his hands. While Rei and Harumi were running around on the Continent in Germany, Hanazawa had somehow managed to find him in his London home.

Carefully straightening the papers and attempting an air of nonchalance, Yami said, "I was not aware you were in London."

"A small vacation," Hanazawa answered with a smile. Stepping into the room, he scanned the walls thoughtfully. Even from that distance, Yami could make out the green in his wide eyes. If anyone had seen him on the streets, they would have never suspected he was the man behind multiple deadly machinations. The thought caused a chill to run through Yami's spine. He had trained for years with this man, but he had never forgotten his capabilities. "I saw your concert in Covent Garden." Hanazawa paused at the window, resting a hand on the windowsill, parting the curtain with a finger. "It took my breath away. I always knew you held back during practice, but the power of emotion tonight..." He released the curtain, sighing softly. "It was a wish of mine to see one of your concerts."

"I learned from the best," Yami said, setting his papers aside.

"I didn't teach you to feel, Yami, you taught yourself that." Hanazawa gestured absent-mindedly with a hand. "And I think your parents to some extent, not that either of you would want to give that credit." He looked around the room again. "Packing up, again?"

"You seem to have better sources than my parents for tracking me," Yami remarked.

"Are you surprised?"

"No, but I wonder at their own inability to tap into those sources."

Hanazawa's mouth kicked up in a dry, humorless smile. "They have made some unwise choices over the years, including who they ally themselves with. Their methods are unnecessarily aggressive at times, as I'm sure you are aware." Yami did not respond to that observation, instead surveying his old mentor. He looked thinner and more worn down. Yami had always sensed a hidden type of exhaustion beneath the surface, but now Hanazawa seemed both physically and mentally drained. He attributed it to old age, although it did not quite sit well. "Small talk is not my forte, I'm afraid, Yami, so forgive me." Hanazawa turned from the window, stepping towards him.

"Then let's talk frankly. Are you here on amicable terms?"

"Yes." Reaching out, Hanazawa rested his hand on Yami's shoulder. For a moment, Yami felt his gaze search his face, as though he were looking for some sense of familiarity. Squeezing his shoulder, Hanazawa smiled. It was a smile that Yami had grown to know well – slow in coming, but gentle and warm at its arrival. "Let us play a piece together before I leave."

Yami blinked, but as Hanazawa's hand dropped and he exited the room, heading towards the area where Yami's modest piano was located, he found himself abandoning the small study and following him. He settled next to Hanazawa on the piano bench and as soon as he did, the latter male strung out a familiar tune that the two had played multiple times. As Yami's fingers skimmed over the keys and notes floated through the quiet of the flat, he could not help but recall that all of Hanazawa's favorite pieces tended to sound slow and mournful. Reminded of his own tendency during particularly low days, Yami wondered not for the first time just how much music reflected the musician's soul.

Afterwards, they sat in companionable silence for some moments. Yami stared at the keys, feeling strangely hollow, as if the music had scooped out his being and deposited elsewhere. It was an unsettling, but not unfamiliar feeling.

"Thank you," Hanazawa spoke at last. "I know what you have given to me, Yami, but I would like to extract a promise from you – for yourself more than me."

"What is it?" he queried, turning to look at him, but Hanazawa was gazing forward, a ghost of a smile upon his lips.

"Promise me that you will not lose sight of what you want. Keep your dream close to your heart. It may turn out that it will come to you, so long as you act in accordance to that."

Yami hesitated. "Is...that what you did?"

It was one of the most personal questions he had ever asked Hanazawa. Part of the reason he had avoided asking such questions in the past was that he expected lies. He had anticipated stories and well-versed lies such as the ones his parents spun. Hanazawa, however, did not dish out a glib falsehood. Instead, he seemed to consider upon it and then released a soft laugh.

"I achieved an illusion, Yami. It was too late by the time I gained it, which is why I am telling you this now." He rose to his feet abruptly. Yami followed him a bit belatedly, absorbing his words. As Hanazawa paused in the narrow doorway that led to the front door, he turned back to Yami and extended a hand. Yami took it and when Hanazawa leaned forward, clapping him on the back, the empty feeling returned. "Keep my words in mind, Yami." Releasing his hand, Hanazawa sent him a last smile in farewell. "And good luck."

"...in shock..."

"...hasn't spoken a word..."

"...the girl, Anzu..."

Yami blinked, snapping out of his dazed memories. Sitting up, he winced and reached down, but he had been dressed in a hospital gown. He could feel the thick bandage on his stomach, however, and was conscious of his skin stretching strangely there. Dismissing that for the moment, he swung his legs off the bed and heard a heavy sigh on the other side of the curtain that was wrapped around his bed. Stilling, Yami leaned forward, listening.

"I haven't been in to see her," came Kaiba's familiar voice. It was clear that the night had taken its toll on even him. He sounded exhausted, as though he had been awake for several days. "I've had other things to deal with and I wanted to check on him first. Did he sleep at all?"

"No...," Sugoroku's elderly voice responded slowly. "He's been awake, but..."

"But what?"

"Well, like I said...I think he might be in shock."

"It's not like he hasn't killed a man before."

"I've never seen him react that way, though. I've been with my grandson on some of those occasions, Kaiba, and he's never gone into a rage like that. He mutilated him."

Yami edged away from the curtain, feeling suddenly nauseous. He could remember very little from the moment he saw Anzu shot to when he was being pulled off from the bloody mass that he had been pounding at. He could not have told anyone else what had triggered the sudden attack and it was far from what he had been planning. Of course, nothing that night had gone as planned. Even with as prepared as they were, there had been too many people and too much happening for their many back up plans to be executed. Instead of Rei targeting Yami as they expected, he had chosen to follow Anzu instead, perhaps because she was an easier quarry.

Recalling the pale-faced shock that had been on Anzu's face and the blood on her legs, Yami's stomach churned uncomfortably again and he stumbled off the bed and grabbed the bed pan, retching. He heard the curtains move behind him, but no one touched him as he dry heaved. Spitting out bile, he reached out for the bed and forced himself to his feet. Sugoroku had opened the curtains and was hovering nearby, his worried gaze fixed upon Yami's pale face. Behind him, Kaiba was standing with his arms folded, his expression set to an unreadable mask. When Yami's eyes met his, Kaiba's eyes narrowed and then he turned away.

"Don't," Yami managed. "Don't you dare, Kaiba."

"What?" Kaiba returned coolly, unfolding his arms and turning back to look at him. "I have nothing to say to you right now. You're pathetic." Feeling the bubble of rage, Yami opened his mouth and then clamped it shut, aware that anything he said now would do little. Kaiba eyed him and then snorted. "At least you have more sense than Ishtar. Pull yourself together."

"I – "

"You what? You can't?" Kaiba stepped towards him, glaring. "I said, pull yourself together and come out to the waiting room when you have." Shooting a look towards Sugoroku, Kaiba stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Yami stared at where he had been with a dumbfounded expression.

"There's some extra clothes here," Sugoroku told him, pulling out a bag from the nearby cupboard. "I'll wait outside the curtain until you're done."

Yami nodded numbly and after the curtains closed behind him, he dug the clothes out of the bag and set them upon the hospital bed. He did not immediately change, standing next to the bed, waiting for his legs to stop quaking. He knew that Kaiba's attitude was justified. Just as he had said to Sugoroku, he had killed many people before, enough to where Rei's death should have been no different. If it had been a simple shot to the head or breaking his neck, Yami doubted he would have effected thusly; however, the violence of it and his ability to inflict it without any self-control had unnerved him. He had blacked out during the entirety of it and it was as though a monster had overtaken him.

"Keep your dream close to your heart."

Yami ran a hand over his face, closing his eyes briefly. I tried, he said to Hanazawa silently, and I failed. Anzu will never be able to dance on stage again because she became involved with me. Dropping his hand, Yami eased his gown off and gingerly pulled the clothes on. I should have taken this out of Domino long ago...she could have auditioned for a different part... He sighed aloud as he finished pulled on the baseball tee. Except that Anzu is too independent...I couldn't have convinced her otherwise.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes." Yami pulled the curtains aside and nodded to his grandfather, who patted him on the back before leading the way from the hospital room. He kept his eyes to the floor as they walked to the waiting room. Ryou was absent, but Malik was sitting slumped in a waiting room chair and Kaiba was speaking with a doctor near a door. They seemed to be going over a chart. Malik rose to his feet as soon as he saw Yami. "Where is everyone?"

"Ryou's trying to figure out what happened to Bakura," Malik answered. "After he pulled Anzu out of the water, he took off because of all of the cops. I think he was trying to round his men up, too, to make sure they didn't get caught. Mercenaries aren't known for keeping their mouths shut under pressure." Malik eyed him. "Doing alright?"

"I've been better," Yami answered, glancing at Sugoroku, but the old man said nothing alluding to Yami's catatonic state of mind. "And...what about Anzu?"

Malik sighed, running a hand through his hair and then dropping it with a shrug. "What do you think, Yami? Her leg is all fucked up. She just got out of surgery. Since she was already split open, they just rushed her in there and this way she'll have a better chance of healing. From what Ryou told me, they had to replace some parts, put some pins in, that kind of thing."

"Then – "

"She'll be able to dance," Malik interrupted, but his face was tight. When Yami continued to stare at him, he glanced away, closing his eyes and releasing a breath. "She'll be able to dance...but not the way she used to."

Yami could say nothing. There were no words for the amount of guilt he felt in the pit of his stomach. He felt nauseous again, but swallowed the bile that attempted to rise up his throat. Instead, he cleared his throat and murmured, "I...better go see her." Without waiting for a response, Yami headed towards Kaiba, who made a quick survey of him and then ushered for him to follow him. The doctor led them through the adjoining doors and down a windy hallway before opening a door. Kaiba did not linger, instead following the doctor away from the room. Yami hesitated briefly before entering the room and shutting the door behind him.

Anzu was situated as comfortably as she could be in the hospital bed with her disabled leg. Pulling a chair next to the bed, Yami settled into it and stared at her leg. He found it grotesque not because it was covered in bandages and padding, but because of what it represented. He had seen Anzu dance dozens of times and while he was always biased towards the grace of music notes on sheet paper, he had recognized the elegance in the fluidity of Anzu's dancing. Malik and Ryou had appreciated it and had honed her abilities because they saw the same type of skill that Hanazawa had seen in him. Yami felt uneasy, realizing that while his dream had flourished, Anzu's had barely had time to be conceived. The injustice of it was too much for his mind to grasp.

Yami was uncertain how long he had been sitting before she stirred in the bed next to him. Lost in his own tormented thought, he was not even aware that she was awake and watching him until she reached out, touching his shoulder. Starting, he turned to her to see her clear blue gaze fixed on him. He could not find his voice immediately, strangled by his own gloomy thoughts. She seemed to know where his thoughts lie, though, because she said, "It's okay, Yami."

"What?" he blankly said.

A corner of her mouth tipped upward. She glanced down at her leg. "You know what I mean."

"But you won't – "

"Was there ever something you wanted so much that you would do everything for?" she interrupted. Feeling his stomach drop, Yami steeled himself, waiting for the inevitable blame to be delivered upon him. "I love dancing, but if I had known the type of world it was in...with all of this hate and corruption...I would never have become a dancer. And while that was always my passion, it wasn't my dream. I saw what my dad sacrificed for my mom, to the point where it broke him...and now, I've seen what she sacrificed for Hanazawa. I've always wanted to find someone where I felt that way for, and I found someone. I put my life and my career on the line because I thought you were worth it...don't blame yourself for my decision."

Yami stared at her and then looked away, feeling a stinging behind his eyes.

"Yami?"

He nodded mutely, turning back to her and taking her hand, bowing his head over it. He felt the tears leak out of his eyes and even though he tried to halt them, they spilled out unbidden. He could not recall the last time he had ever cried in front of someone. He felt her lean over and kiss his head before dropping back on the hospital bed. He remained bent over her, crying silently.

Once he had regained control of his voice, he whispered, "I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."

TBC