The Three Kings: Strike

Disclaimer (1): Yu-gi-oh! Duel Monsters is owned by Kazuki Takahashi, Studio Gallop, Nihon Ad Studios, and TV Tokyo. Harry Potter is owned by J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Arthur A. Levine Books, and Warner Bros. Please support the official releases.

Disclaimer (2): Gotham City Sirens is written by Paul Dini, Tony Dedard, and Peter Calloway. Wonder Woman is created by William Moulton marston, Harry G. Peter, and Elizabeth Holloway Marston. Injustice: Gods Among Us is written by Tom Taylor. The McDonald's Corporation is founded by Richard McDonald, Maurice McDonald, and Ray Kroc.

Warning: Destruction of home and possessions, past minor and major character death, underage sexual content, pedophilia, abuse of power, child soldiers, and homophobia.

To all my American readers.
You deserve so much better than this.
You deserve a President and a leader.
Not a monster.
But remember
You are strong.
You are powerful.
You will fight all the
Racist
Sexist
Homophobic
Transphobic
Shit he throws at you.
Because you deserve better.
And you are better
Than he or his followers ever could be.
Be strong.
The world stands with you.

- Lor

Chapter 1: Summation

To say that Atem is tired is an incredible understatement. She feels the exhaustion deep in her bones, crushing her as if she was standing at the bottom of the ocean. Her legs are shaking too much for her to even walk, her hands trembling so badly that she can't even write. She's standing, regardless of those facts, her power locking her knees and ankles in position and refusing to let her fall.

The Turtle Game Shop has been reduced to a burnt out husk. Her home is gone.

Bakura stands beside her, a soft gaze in his eyes. His presence is a comfort in this moment, but he offers her no pity, only understanding, and for that she thanks him. He knows what it's like to lose a home as well.

Atem takes a step forwards, forcing her muscles to comply to the wishes of her mind. Then she takes another. And another.

The bright red front door is gone, blasted off in a magical explosion. Atem sees the traces of the curse lingering in the doorway, a dark blue light harsh against the blackened wood. Atem thumbs at them as she passes through and they fade away into nothing.

The well worn tile floor is covered in the ash of the books of her childhood. She remembers curling up in the corner after her Jii-chan had closed for the night, her mother sitting beside her, and revelling in being able to read something that wasn't a textbook. Atem remembers seeking out that same corner after her mother had been admitted to the hospital, finding comfort in the thin pages of the Gotham City Sirens and Wonder Woman, and not thinking about what stage four breast cancer does to someone for just an hour.

Atem sees the magic of a Spellcaster humming steadily across the ashes. She tugs at it slightly and pulls an image of Superman from the destruction. But his costume is different enough that she knows that this is the version from Injustice: Gods Amongst Us. This is a Superman who will kill, just as she is a Yuugi capable of murder.

She swipes her hand through the air and the image disburses just as Bakura walks into the shop.

"You okay?" He asks, more out of politeness than anything else. He knows that she's not okay. He of all people knows how hard this is for her.

"Do you remember when my father died?" She asks instead of answering. He shrugs and she understands that, too. Memory is such an illusive thing for the two of them, like trying to catch smoke with their hands. "That last day, he was so sick that he couldn't even keep down the watered honey the healers were giving him, but he put on his armour and climbed into his chariot anyways. He was so delirious with fever that he missed arrow he shot, but for the first time in years, the people saw their Pharaoh strong and mighty. And they believed in him."

"Sometimes even when you're not alright, you need to pretend to be, so that others can take strength in you," Bakura nods along. He snorts, "Damn the gods for crowning us. We never wanted this."

"Does anyone?"

"Aknadin," he answers. "And look where it got him."

"Whatever happened to him anyways? I remember him dying, but I do not remember how," Atem asks.

"I killed him in his cell," Bakura admits, before pausing. "Seth helped," he admits.

"My brother hated you," she says.

"And I hated your father for the part he played in my family's," he says right back. "But when he died, I hated him more than I had when he lived."

"Why?"

"Because he died and left you in a position where you couldn't mourn him." Bakura walks forwards, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Atem, you are my friend, before we are anything to each other. If you want to cry or scream or...anything, you know that I'll never look down on you for it. Because I know you'd do the same for me."

"I know," she cups his cheek with her palm. Even though it's been years since he was starving, Atem can still feel bone beneath a hollow layer of skin. "Gods all help me, I know."

They stay like that for a quiet moment, breathing each other in. I love him, she thinks. And he loves me. But now was not the time to act upon it. It wouldn't be fair, not until their third walked beside them.

Atem sees a text message coming in through the air, heading towards Bakura's phone. She speeds up the processing of her brain, reading it before the device alerts him to it.

"There's a meeting at Seth's home," she tells him. "We should get going."

"And the witch? Do you want to talk to her, or should I?"

Atem considers it for a second, "I will." Her hand drops from his face and she gazes out of the windows. The glass is shattered, the fragments littering the streets. "Yes, I will talk to our friend."

"Take-"

"Mai? Of course," she raises an eyebrow at him. "Come now, Bakura. I'm not that rusty. I still know how this game is played."

He hums in appreciation, "The Bronze Lady, here to start her war of words. She'll be quaking in her boots, by the time you're done." Bakura's eyes wander around the shop, "You need anything else here?"

She takes one last look around, taking in her fill of the memories this little room held for her. Yuugi Mutuo had grown up here, had lived her all her life. She'd loved the Turtle Game Shop with all her heart.

It broke Atem's heart to say goodbye, but she had to.

"There can be other comic book stores," she says. "But I only have one grandfather. And they took him, ripped him from his life here and burned it to the ground." Atem feels a crackle of rage course through her veins, sees the blood red lightning of her magic curling around her fists. "Let's go get him back."

"I'm sorry."

Joey won't stop apologizing and that's probably what kills Seto the most about this whole fucked up scenario. His brother is in the hands of the enemy and Joey won't stop apologizing for it. He wishes that he could summon up the anger and betrayal that he almost wants to feel, but there's been too much between the two of them for Seto to place the blame solely on him.

"It's… just stop, okay. Don't…" Seto can't bring himself to look at him and feels awful for it.

"I'm gonna get him back. I'll fucking do it. You know I will, Seto. You know that, right?"

Seto gives him a small nod, "I know." He's going to throw up from worry. "I'm sorry, too."

He can feel Joey frowning, "For what?"

"Lakewood." And this crossing all kinds of lines, because they've both agreed to not talk about Lakewood. "I know you didn't want me to pull you out, but I did anyways. And I'd do it again, if I had to. I know you know that, just like I know you wanted to hate me for it."

There's a sigh and Joey rests his forehead against Seto's shoulder, "Fuck you, asshole. Damn you right to hell."

Seto buries his face in Joey's neck so that the world won't see him shaking.

They don't talk about Lakewood not because of the burning warehouse or the screams of those trapped inside. Nor do they not talk about it because of how thirteen-year-old Joey had struggled in Seto's arms as he'd dragged the kid away, spitting murder while tears ran down his cheeks. They don't even not talk about it because Joey had gone limp three blocks away and remembered, whispering, "Seth, let me go. Please, just let me save them," or how Seto had whispered back, "No."

They don't talk about it because of what had been said between them in the aftermath, when he and Mokuba had gotten Joey and Serenity set up in a motel, when he'd knocked on Joey's door, feeling awkward and eighteen and too small for his limbs. They don't talk about it because Joey had answered the door, broken Seto's nose with an angry fist, and then, for some reason, asked why Seto had never told him that he was in love with him before.

And that's the thing, isn't it? That's why Seto doesn't have it in himself to truly hate Joey for losing Mokuba. Because he was in love with him, had been since the first time he'd turned forty, when he'd seen Kisara and Jono standing amongst his children and realized that the fierce affection he felt for his best friend was the same as that which he felt for his wife. Kisara had known, too, and had told him that it would be okay if he wanted to be with Jono as well as her.

But Jono had had a wife of his own then. And the Pharaoh Seth may have been, but it was not his place to dissolve a marriage so that he could take his friend and fellow ruler on as a consort. Atem's relationship with the other three Kings had caused enough trouble when the topic of heirs had come up and the realm was still healing from the war against the Destroyer. Seth had to be a good king, a stable king. He couldn't, no matter how much he may have wanted to.

So when thirteen-year-old Joey Wheeler breaks his nose and demands that Seto tell him why he'd never said anything, Seto had stared there dumbly until Joey pulled him inside the empty hotel room, yanked him down to his height, and kissed him.

Seto thinks to this day that he'd let Joey continue to kiss him for longer than he ever should have. He'd ended up pushing Joey away, explaining in a rough, broken voice that despite their cycles, Joey was still too young for him, that it wasn't appropriate, that he just couldn't and-

He'd seen the idea morphing behind Joey's eyes, known that Joey was two seconds away from laying down on the motel bed behind them, spreading his legs and demanding that Seto fuck him, but it died there, never becoming reality. Instead, Joey had leaned into Seto and damned him to hell, just like he was doing now. And just like before, Seto had hid his face in Joey's neck and held on for dear life.

"Together," Seto promises. "We'll get them back together."

He feels Joey nod, "They don't stand a fuckin' chance."

Mai considers herself lucky. Her daughter is alive and safe. She'd sent Haley to stay with her parents back in Texas until they rebuilt. She's not badly hurt, her only wound from the battle being a gash in her forehead that the tired nurses had stitched up sometime around midnight. And Nomad only has a broken window and some dusty floors to deal with once the power comes back on. Sure, she'll probably loose a bunch of product from the fridge and freezers, but Duke says that he'll be able to get Mai some generators so all and all, the restaurant itself will be fine.

But no matter what happens, Tristan will still be dead. The orphaned kid she'd taken in straight out some New Jersey juvenile detention center will never walk through those doors again, sassing her with a crooked smile and a wink. Mai doesn't know how she's going to explain to her daughter that the boy she'd sworn she was going to marry when she grew up had been killed fighting for their city.

Mai glances across at the witch who's sitting in one of the booths by the window and clenches her fist. I could do it, she thinks. All it would take is one sound out of me and I could pulse her organs into mush. The witch looks so small that it's almost easy to hate her. I'd be quick about it, too. I've had enough practice today.

She can't, though. There's someone even worse in store for this witch than Mai.

The witch looks over at Mai, eyes looking her up and down, sizing her up. Mai stares back, refusing to give a single inch. The witch glances down at the floor and then gives her a small smile.

"Mai… Valentine, right?" She asks. When Mai doesn't react, she tries again, "This place… it's yours?"

Mai raises an eyebrow, "What's it to you?"

"Nothing. Nothing… Just trying to make conversation," the witch lets the sentence peter out awkwardly. She rocks slightly in her seat, "Could I have some water, please?"

"I don't serve people that kill my friends," Mai snaps, placing a chef's knife in front of her on the counter.

The witch shrugs, "Fair enough, I guess." And goes back to staring at the window.

"What do you think you're going to get out of this?" Mai asks, reaching out with her mind, hoping to catch the witch in a lie, just to give her something to work with, something to pick at.

The witch doesn't turn to look at her, keeping a calm expression as she says, "Vengeance. Justice. Take your pick."

Truth, Mai scowls. She's not lying there.

The witch continues on, "Don't get me wrong. I'm not here to support your cause because I've been secretly rooting for you mages this whole time. Frankly, I couldn't give less of a damn whether you all live or die, much like I don't care if my kind all live or die. But we have a common enemy. So I'd like to make a mutually beneficial alliance."

"Which is why you want to talk with the person in charge?" The witch nods. Mai raises an eyebrow, "And just who do you think that is?"

"Matthew Jacques," the witch answers without hesitation. "Either him or Seto Kaiba."

Mai notes this admission, realizing the witch doesn't know about Matthew's capture, "Why them?"

The witch levels her with a glare, "They are powerful, smart enough to hold down careers while in the middle of a war." A sly grin splits across her face, "They're big, strong men. But Jacques… he has a traditionally respectable job with a name that makes him sound like he's white, unlike Kaiba. He's a leader that will bring people into the city."

Mai almost laughs, because on the other side of the street, Atem is crossing the road while being all of five feet tall, wearing oversized clothes, her blazing red hair a complete mess against skin that's black as night. The Lady Pharaoh is barefoot and tiny, looking more like a college student who just rolled out of bed and not the divine powerhouse that she is. That's probably on purpose, Mai realizes. She wants the witch to underestimate her.

The witch follows her gaze, frowning as Atem pauses in front of Nomad to look through the large glass windows.

"Who's that?" The witch asks.

"That's who's in charge," Mai chuckles, unable to hold in her laughter any longer. The witch's jaw actually drops in shock.

The bell above the door rings as Atem steps inside. She smiles politely at Mai, "Thank you for watching over our friend."

Mai hums, nodding back at her, and watches as the Lady Pharaoh walks calmly over the floor and slides into the booth across from the witch.

"Reiko Kitamori, welcome to San Francisco. I here that you wanted to speak to who's in charge. My name is Atem. You may speak to me," Atem offers the witch the same polite smile. "You must be hungry, though. Here, this should help."

Atem slides a bag of McDonald's take out across the table and, oh fuck, that's her plan. Mai is genuinely impressed.

The witch frowns, looking inside the bag to examine the contents before reaching inside to pull out a Big Mac. She unwraps it slowly and sniffs it before taking a bite.

"Thank you," the witch - Kitamori - says after she's swallowed.

"You're welcome," Atem smiles. "Tell me, do you know what guest right is."

The witch nods, "Yeah. Sacred Laws of Hospitality. It's an old mage custom - I'm surprised you know about it, it's ancient. It says that if a guest eats a host's food at the host's table, the guest will be protected from harm for the duration of their stay. It's why you offered me this, to prove that you are willing to negotiate and not kill me."

"Mostly right," Atem nods and places a digital clock on the table. It reads 5:49 am. "You see, guest right only protects a guest until dawn, which is in about a minute and a half." The witch stops eating. "So, here's what's going to happen. When I stop talking, you will have thirty six seconds to impress me. Fail to do so, and I will kill you. Do you understand?"

Kitamori nods, "I do."

"Excellent," Atem has yet to stop smiling and it's honestly freaking Mai out a little bit. She's so glad that this girl is on their side. "You may state your case."

The witch takes a breath and sets down the burger, "I will tell you the location of where the Unspeakables are hiding your people, as well as answering any questions that you may have to the best of my ability, if in return, you give me a man named Maximillion Pegasus, alive."

The clock tells Mai that Kitamori has nearly fifteen seconds left, but neither of the two women moves until the sun breaks over the horizon. Kitamori blinks, the spell broken, and reaches again for the burger.

"Judging by the fact that I'm still alive, I assume that I've impressed you. So if you don't mind, I'm hungry," the witch takes another bites of the burger. Atem's smile stays put even as she swallows down the food.

There is no warning before she strikes. Moving faster than Mai can track, Atem smashes Kitamori into the far wall, holding her up by a single hand around her neck. She lets the witch claw uselessly at her hand for a minute, feet struggling for purchase on the tile, before she loosens her grip just enough for Kitamori to speak.

"B-but… guest right! You have to-"

"I don't have to do anything," Atem says, her face hauntingly blank. "Guest right has not been invoked."

"I ate your food!"

"Wrong. Dead wrong, in fact," Atem's lip peel back into a haunting parody of her polite smile from before. Her pupils are blown wide like a hawk's and the natural curls on her head look more like bright red feathers than hair. "Guest right can only be invoked when the host offers you food. I am not the owner of this establishment, Mai is. And she denied you guest right the moment she bared her blade to you." Kitamori's eyes flick over to where Mai is leaning against the counter. Mai smirks and toys with the chef's knife that lays in front of her.

"As for the food," Atem continues, "I don't actually know who's it is. It's probably been sitting under a heat lamp since before the Department of Mysteries first attack us. Personally, I wouldn't touch it with a twelve foot pole. So, Reiko Kitamori, do not for a moment think that because you have impressed me that I will not hesitate to kill you if it becomes beneficial to me. Do you understand?"

Atem tightens her grip just long enough to make her point before allowing Kitamori to speak again, "I understand! I understand!"

"Good," Atem says and drops Kitamori unceremoniously to the floor. As the witch gathers herself up on her hands and knees, gasping for air, Atem sits back down in the booth and waits for her to recover. "You can rejoin me when you're ready."

It takes a few minutes, but eventually, Kitamori crawls to her feet, gingerly touching at the bruises forming around her neck. She hisses slightly, closing her eyes, and-

Atem does a full body twitch and the air beside her shimmers slightly. Mai is immediately ready to jump in, because something just happened that nearly had Bakura drop his veil of invisibility at the same time that Atem just reacted, and she's not quite sure what is was, but she's willing to fight regardless.

Kitamori blinks, poking again at her throat before growling up at the ceiling, "Damn it, I don't need your help."

"Interesting," Atem speaks as if she didn't just lose her composure, staring at the witch's neck, which is now completely free of purple blotches. "So, who in the Department of Mysteries has access to a divine weapon capable of healing?"

The witch looks a little surprised, "Don't… don't you want to know where your people are first?"

"Oh, we already know that. They're located on an island just off the coastline of Hawaii, I believe. And while we don't have an exact location right now, we will by noon today, along with satellite images. So please, answer the question," Atem smiles again and indicates for Kitamori to take her seat again.

Kitamori looks at her strangely and edges into the booth. She pauses for a second and reaches for the burger once more. When Atem raises an eyebrow, the witch shrugs and says, "What? I told you I was hungry."

Atem says nothing, leaning back into her seat, and waits.

"The person you're talking about is the Department Head," Kitamori explains around a mouthful of meat and bun and cheese. "When I first met her, she went by the name of Helena Hendrix. She's gone through a dozen since then."

"But Helena Hendrix is not her real name?"

"No."

"And you never through to find out what her real name was?"

The witch snorts, "Lady, I work for the Department of Mysteries. Lots of people don't go by their real names. It wasn't exactly out of place."

"Is Reiko Kitamori your real name?"

Atem's question actually gets the witch to pauses. Kitamori slowly puts down the burger and lowers her gaze, "Reiko Kitamori… Yes. I've had to fight for the right to be called that, but… yes, it's my real name."

Truth. Mai nods ever so slightly at Atem, signalling that the witch had not lied.

"And the divine weapon, it's capable of healing, correct?"

"Yes," Kitamori goes back to eating.

"What are its limitations?"

"If you know about divine weapons, than you know that there's no such thing as a limitation," Kitamori rolls her eyes. "Helena can cure anything: disease, injury, even age. I've seen her bring back people from the brink of death before. The members of her inner circle are practically immortal."

"But they are still capable of dying, if you're quick enough," Atem points out. "I killed one of her people today, judging by how quickly the woman was able to heal."

"You killed-" Kitamori hisses. "Who?"

"I don't know. I didn't get her name," Atem says. "So, you are close enough to Helena Hendrix's inner circle to mourn one of their deaths, and yet you consider yourself separate from them. Tell me, just who are you to the Department Head?"

Kitamori shrugs, finishing off her burger, "I was her assassin."

"And how old are you exactly, Reiko Kitamori?" Atem leans forwards in interest.

The witch crumples up the wax paper from her meal in the fist of her hand, "I was born on October 4th, 1877 in Kagoshima, Japan. You can do the math to figure out how old I am."

"Kagoshima?" Atem's eyes widen, "Any relation to Saigo Takamori?"

"Really?" Kitamori looks taken back, "I just told you that I'm a hundred years old-"

"One hundred and thirty five," Atem interrupts her.

"Fine, one hundred and thirty five. And your first question is if I'm related to Saigo Takamori?"

"Do you think that you're the first person I've talked to who's one hundred and thirty five years old?" Atem smirks ever so slightly.

"Well, yes!" Kitamori looks exasperated, "Am… am I not?"

"Not that exact age, no, but we have some very interesting people living in this city right now," Atem chuckles. "So no, you're not overly surprising. Answer the question please."

"I mean, I don't think so. I think my father fought beside him during the Satsuma rebellion, but… seriously? This is what you want to talk about?" Kitamori implores.

"Of course. Because it makes me wonder why someone who was orphaned by the Battle of Shiroyami joined up with the Department of Mysteries?" Atem asks.

The witch snorts, "No one joins up with the Department of Mysteries these days, no matter what the Seedlings might think."

"What do you mean?"

Kitamori pulls the small box of fries from the McDonald's bag and proceeds to dump three packets of ketchup all over them.

"I'm guessing that you're aware of wizard born mages, since you know about the island and all. Those three kids probably told you about it, am I right?" Kitamori asks.

"Mostly, but continue," Atem nods.

"Well, you see, just before wizard born mages started showing up, the Department was on the decline. Not only did no one want to join, but recruitment wasn't really possible because most of the people already working for the Department were on these anti-aging potions and weren't opening up positions for new people to take. There wasn't enough money coming in, either. And then…" Kitamori picks up a fry and nibbles on the end before stuffing the entire thing into her mouth. "No one knows why but you mages had this huge population boom around the 1860's. The Department didn't have enough resources to contain the problem. So Helena put a member of her inner circle in charge of figuring out a way to entice more people to join up, all while keeping the secret of how understaffed we were under wraps."

"So what did they come up with?"

"Blaine Gerrish… he's good at thinking outside the box. He decided that instead of trying to retrain wizards from outside sources, the Department should simply create their own soldiers - loyal, hardworking, and most of all, willing to devote themselves completely to the cause," Kitamori says. "They took me when I was four, maybe five, I don't really remember. I was one of the older ones, though. Usually they start at three."

Truth, Mai thinks. Truth. She almost wishes to God that she could catch the witch in a lie.

"And it worked," Atem guesses. "The Department got its soldiers and the problem was contained. That… brutal, horrific, but… effective."

"Yeah. Too effective. You see, when I was going through training, there was only one program: the Plants. But after what happened after Pegasus screwed up and they carved out Gel's brain or what they did with Tom Riddle afterwards, there were so many orphans that the Department couldn't keep up. So Blaine decided to split the program in two and created the Seedlings. He put management in charge of them while he continued to watch over the Plant program."

"You've mentioned them before," Atem states. "Seedlings. You said that they think that they joined up, when they really didn't."

Kitamori nods, "Yeah. The children are all trained together up until they're about eight or nine years old and then they send the best ones off to become Plants, while the rest of them becomes Seedlings. They're the Department's regular foot soldiers, but they've had their memories wiped and had new ones put in. Blaine told me once that Seedlings turn out better when they believe that they've joined up out of their own free will. It's… some kind of psychology thing, I've never really understood it much."

Atem nods along, "This Blaine Gerrish has clearly had a long time to think about-"

Atem falls silent for a few seconds and Mai imagines Bakura leaning into the blank space by her side and whispering something in her ear.

"Blaine Gerrish," she says finally. "He's also gone by the name Aloc Flint, has he not?"

Kitamori startles, back going ramrod straight, "Did you just say Aloc Flint?" Atem hums in response and the witch continues to speak, "As in Aloc Flint, founding member of the early International Confederation of Wizards?"

"Perhaps. Is he also Blaine Gerrish?" Atem asks.

"I… Merlin's beard, it would make sense," Kitamori covers her mouth with her hands. She blinks and answers the question, "I don't know for sure, but… possibly. Yes. Actually, yes, I'm sure - they're the same person."

"You seem surprised," Atem comments.

"Surprised, no. Just… making connections," Kitamori confirms.

Atem nods, humming again, "Could you take a guess as to how old he might be?"

"The Confederation was set up in… 1684, I think? He would have been about thirty five, maybe forty at the time. So…"

"Thirty hundred and sixty nine years old, at the latest," Atem sighs. "That's a long time to figure out how best to create child soldiers."

"Yeah," Kitamori pokes at her fries, almost disinterested. "Yeah, that's a long time."

There's a slight pause between the two of them. Mai watches as Kitamori almost seems to deflate, her shoulders sagging from tiredness. Atem's smile has long since dropped. The early morning sun casts long shadows across her face and Mai can see the bags under her eyes. They're both utterly exhausted, she realizes. Only pretense is keeping them going now.

"Who's Gel?" Atem asks finally. When Kitamori stiffens, Mai actually thinks that she'll refuse to answer the question. "You mentioned Pegasus in the same sentence as him. I have to ask."

The witch plays with her fries for several minutes before she answers, "He was my friend. He… It's my fault what happened to him." Kitamori gives up on eating, shoving the box of fires away from her. "Gellert Grindelwald. He and his sister were in the same batch as I was. We decided to team up when we were in training together, so that we had a better chance at survival, at being chosen for the mission…"

The witch's voice cracks and Mai has to take a deep breath. It's… emotion. She hasn't ever seen a witch that wasn't trying to kill her before, so she's actually shocked that they could even feel something like that, something like hurt, pain, or love. It's… Mai doesn't really want to think about this now, so she tucks it away in the back of her mind for later.

"Pegasus… he was one of the last people to actually join up with the Department, so the people who came before him had a bit of a soft spot for him. Called him kid, you know? So once they trained us up enough, they let him pick out the best Plant for the mission."

"What was the mission?" Atem asks.

"Depends on who you were asking. Blaine told Pegasus that he was going to take Albus Dumbledore and turn him into some kind of revolutionary leader, one that would inspire Britain into open warfare against mages," Kitamori snorts. "Pegasus was too young and stupid - hell, he's still too stupid to realize that that never would have worked. Muggles would have sided with you and they outnumber us a thousand to one. We'd have lost, and badly too."

"Non-magics," Atem interrupts.

"Pardon?"

"Non-magics. Not… what you called them. It's offensive."

"What does that matter?" The witch rolls her eyes.

"You fought to be called Reiko Kitamori because whatever they were calling you before clearly offends you on some level. The same goes here," Atem instructs her.

The witch nods somberly, "Fair enough."

"So if the purpose wasn't to have wizards fighting the rest of the world, then Gerrish must have wanted to create the climate for a civil war," Atem continues on. "Why?"

Kitamori shrugs, "More orphans. More soldiers."

"But something happened. You said Pegasus messed up," Atem says.

"Yeah, that's one way of putting it," Kitamori snorts, but it fails to cover up how badly she's shaking. "It was really the people who put him in charge that messed up. They didn't realize what Pegasus does to people that he's in a position of power over.

"They chose Albus Dumbledore for a bunch of reasons, but mainly because his sister was the first wizardborn mage. The girl ended up killing her mother, so Pegasus thought they could add in some kind of a revenge element into his backstory and it was going to be Gel's job to push him over the edge. Pegasus picked him, not because he was the best, but because he was the easiest of the three of us to control," Kitamori pauses, wiping the tears away from her eyes with the back of her sleeve. Mai has yet to catch her in a lie. "They gave Gara, his sister, to the Labs, told them that if he went off track that they'd kill her. And Pegasus… he was going to keep me because I was his favourite, but I wouldn't let him. I would have rather died, but then Helena took me in, I didn't question it. I was just so happy to get away that I just did what I was told.

"But then Gel kept acting out, kept trying to get caught and throw the mission before it all began. He even got expelled from Drumstrang, in the hopes that it would help, but…" Kitamori is crying in earnest now. "I told them, back when we were kids, that we could overthrow everything, that we could expose the Department and show the world what they were doing. I was so stupid, it's all my fault." The witch tries to compose herself, taking several deep breaths, "They placed a handler on Gel, told him that if he went any farther off mission that they'd give Gara to Pegasus. And he tried to, tried so hard. But he and Albus, they were in love and Gel was going to tell him everything-"

"Reiko," Atem reaches across the table and wraps her fingers gently around Kitamori's wrist. "Reiko, listen to me. You were a child. None of this was your fault."

"Except it is!" Kitamori shouts, pulling her hand back. "I couldn't let them give Gara to Pegasus. I just… I couldn't let him hurt her! Not the way he hurt me."

"What does Pegasus do to people he's in a position of power over?" Atem whispers, as if she knows the answer but is afraid to hear it. Mai's afraid to hear it. She thinks of her daughter, only five years old, thinks that Haley cannot live in a world where men like Maximillion Pegasus are allowed to live.

Kitamori rocks in her seat for a whole minute before saying, "Pegasus likes little girls."

Truth. Mai wants to throw up.

"They were going to de-age Gara, so she'd be exactly how he likes them," Kitamori keeps talking, keeps saying these horrible truths. "So when Helena told me that Ariana Dumbledore couldn't live to see the next day, I killed her so that didn't happen. But then they'd already pulled the plug on the mission, carved out Gel's brains and reprogrammed him to become this… cult leader hell bent on killing people. He would never have hurt Albus otherwise. The only good that came out of it was that they got Pegasus away from kids. Helena promised me that they'd never let him near children again, if I just did what I was told."

"Except they did," Atem supplies.

Kitamori nods frantically, her eyes closed, "It was years later, after he flunked out on finding Flamel. He invented something called the conversion program, where he'd take wizardborn mages and try to turn them into witches and wizards. It was so stupid because it was never really going to work, but it made the Department a lot of money. But I knew, the moment that I heard they were letting him near children again, I just knew…

"When people talk about the conversion program, they always talk about the first two: Gilderoy Lockhart and Andromeda Black," Kitamori laughs, high and humourless. "They never mention Cecelia Crawford, though. Because she didn't have the same protection that Black did, didn't have the same family name. She killed herself when she was fifteen because-" Kitamori sobs, clutching at her stomach, "-because he got her pregnant. Because she'd rather be dead then have his baby."

The witch sits there, tears running down her face, and Mai just stands there dumbfounded. How could anyone sanction this kind of torture, just to win a war? How could anyone employ a rapist and a pedophile and give him access to children, just so that they could- she doesn't even want to think about it.

Kitamori turns her glance towards Mai, eyes piercing, deadly, "You asked why I'm here."

"You told me that you wanted vengeance. And justice."

The witch nods, "Gara had a baby at the Labs. And if I know about it, then Pegasus does. I need to know where her child is, to get him away from all of this. And then I'm going to finish what Gel, Gara, and I started all those years ago and tear the Department down, brick by brick.

"So tell me, Atem," Kitamori looks back, body tense and ready to attack. "Have I impressed you yet?"

Atem stares at her from across the table, her expression contemplative. "Yes," she finally says. "Yes, I believe you have."

"Good. Then can you do me a favour and tell your friend to drop the invisibility spell? Because it's getting uncomfortable to pretend that they're not there."

Atem's eyebrows shoot up into her skull. Bakura phases back into existence beside her and Mai thanks God that he just seems impressed and not sheepish.

"What gave me away?" Bakura asks.

"Honestly, nothing," Kitamori admits. "But having someone in hiding, watching all of this… it would be what I would do. So I guessed."

Mai turns away then, walking into the empty kitchen and heading towards the walk in freezer. When she opens the heavy door, she remembers seeing Tristan in there, wrapped up in the oversized, fluffy hoodie that they keep in the office, doing inventory. She thinks of her daughter doing her homework in the front booth. She thinks of Joey leaning over the front counter, a sly smirk splitting across his young face.

She places a large, defrosted red velvet cupcake on the table in front of Reiko Kitamori. When the witch looks up at her, there's a small spark of hope in her red-rimmed eyes.

"Guest right," Mai says. "You're safe here until dawn."

Kitamori looks down at the cupcake and up at her. The thin line of her lips seems to tremble.

"Thank you," the witch says truthfully and picks up the fork.

Hello again!

I'd like to thank those who reviewed for the last chapter: iceprincess reniee, Dana Sto Helit, FanWyrme, Trafalgar Thunderbird Law, dragomira, and anita15. You guys are awesome!

So this chapter has a whole lot of stuff going on. We have Atem saying goodbye to her old life as Yuugi while trying her hardest to keep the memory of her alive. We see that Seth has seen in love with Jono for literal millenia and has said nothing about it until this cycle. And finally, we have Reiko's backstory. There's a lot to talk about, so if you have any questions, please shoot them my way.

Until next time,
AlcatrazOutpatient