So, I have been extremely busy and without much time to write (and this chapter was ready since a month ago or so), but I'm not putting the stories on Hiatus because I'll try posting whenever I can. To the guest who left such a nice review, thank you so much, your words really lifted my spirits!

Chapter 10

A conversation

Haru walks on the unpaved road leading to the duel academy main building, a thread of reminiscence drumming in his mind: Rie's afflicted eyes as she shook her head in disapproval at him for tricking her into going to that duel stadium, also for stalking her favorite duelist, biting her lips as she slammed the door of her room onto his face.

Is what I did really wrong? I bet she's seeing that guy in a new light now…

His frown accentuates the wrinkles forming between his brows. She even gifted him that handkerchief, something she'll never get back, much like his attention, yet she was the most mad at him for it and not at the Hell Kaiser despite his insufferable persona. Granted, the Kaiser did help her against those thugs, but it was his fault the men attacked her in the first place and that was the bare minimum of decorum he could offer, nothing to write home about.

Argh! I can't wrap my mind around it! She should've learned her lesson with guys like him the last time!

Haru entangles his own hair in a mess of strands. A familiar voice distracts him:

"You seem troubled."

Misawa waves his hand, stopping on his tracks under the startled gaze of his junior that straightens up as if nothing wrong was going on there.

"Ah, senpai. I'm just… Let's say I didn't have a good night."

"I thought you were going to apologize to your sister and see your family, did it not work?"

"No, it went awry…"

"What went wrong?"

"I've met him, that Kaiser."

"You did?" he flinches, a bead of sweat forms on his face, wary of what he'd hear next. "So, how was it?"

"He's an asshole. Just like in front of the cameras, he has no regard for anything, not his opponents, fans or anyone, going on about not giving autographs, like he's much better than any other duelist out there."

"Is that so…?" Misawa's fists clutch slightly, a tad disgruntled, a part of him refusing to believe it's true.

"So much about being the best student, to me he looks like your typical celebrity who sees people as less than he is… It's like he's looking at a plain of existence where us mere mortals can't reach. For a dropout of the major leagues, he's very arrogant."

Haru's nose crinkles, annoyed just at the memory of that insipid, haughty gaze of Ryo, almost diminishing them in a tyrannical manner. In the end, Rie was just hurt, but he isn't sure she has understood the message he wanted her to.

Misawa disrupts his grudging thoughts with a feeble, but worried smile, his brows coiling up a tad, guilt spurting in him for mentioning Ryo to Haru.

"If it's not much to ask, don't mention this in front of Shou, right? Just reading magazines dabbing on the subject is stressful enough for him."

"Ah, right, they're brothers… Though, I can't see how someone like Shou senpai is even related to that guy."

"I'm sorry for what happened, but do you know the best way to lift off bad thoughts from your mind?" he raises an all-knowing finger. "A duel!"

"You're right! I'm pumped up for a duel!" clenching his fists, he grins mischievously. "And I already chose my opponent…"

There's something in his smirk that concerns Misawa, like a bad omen. Haru does have a short temper and from experience, last he smiled like this, some obelisk students went back to the dorms crying. What is he up to this time?

Night time, inside the hotel,

Ryo stands in front of the man-tall windows, the curtains shriveled to the sides, his image mirrored: crossed arms and an apathetic, thoughtful semblance, the city lights of the other skyscrapers and the dark sky fermenting the brooding mood.

His eyes squint slightly upon the click of the door, observing from the glass reflection: Rie's silhouette enters quietly, jolting as soon as she spots him standing there, a cute reminder of how bashful she could be sometimes. She walks at rushed steps, locking herself in the bathroom, he snorts at the scene.

As soon as her toes slide out of the doorframe, his voice calls out, loud and clear, a tad authoritarian even:

"Rie, come here for a moment."

His face barely sways to the side, before he's concentrating on the stunning scenario of the city buildings and sky whose clouds looked like they came out of painting.

She gulps, grabbing the brims of her plaid dress and staggering a step while arriving at his side, her brows curled up in anxiety, flinching when his hand stretches towards her, offering his own phone, which she reluctantly accepts.

There's a moment of silence as his hand shuffles on the inner pocket of his jacket, her shoulders bristling up, wondering whatever he's taking out, gasping as he pulls out the folded handkerchief she gave to him before.

"Well, first of all, thank you, Emily."

He flaps it open, showing the embroidered name in yellow and some pink flowers at the corner, sniggering when Rie frets and snatches it away from his hand, inspecting it from all angles.

"I didn't use it, thought it'd be a pity to smear my blood on it," he admits, that sincerity giving place to a mocking smirk. "But what's with the name? Don't tell me Rie is just a nickname and you're actually called Emily."

[That's not mine, it's my late mom's.]

There's a very low grunt, rueful of his own joke. "And why would you give me something so important?"

[It's just a handkerchief, so it should be used as one. I kept it because I found it pretty, not because of any sentimental value.]

Her gaze lingers a second longer than necessary in the name embroidered there, a fresh smell of flowers spreading in the air as she folds it. Did he wash it or perfume it?

[Are you alright?]

The screen of the phone shines from his peripheral vision, she peeks at him worriedly.

"You mean this?" he swipes his bangs up to show a small, brownish scar of a cut in the healing process on the very top of his forehead, entering his hairline. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Her face scrunches up at the sight, he titters witnessing the shiver running through her, like she felt the pain on her own body.

"I'll leave a scar, but it's not visible, so nothing that the media can pounce on, that's alright."

[What about the other part?]

"What do you mean by that?"

This isn't the only part where he was hit back when that foe used a stun baton. Exchanging swift glances at him and his torso, she tries to give the hint.

"What, is there something wrong with my shirt?" he also glances down, brushing his chest with a few fingers to undust it. "I don't see anything wrong."

Scowling, she lets out a vexed and determined huff, is he playing dumb here? A fluttering prickle numbs her cheeks when she suddenly clutches the hem of his shirt, plucking it out of his pants and raising it enough to see his ribs.

"What are you-" he stumbles a step back in reaction, but it's late.

A soundly gasp soars, there's a mark, two purplish socket-alike lines exactly where he was hit. She slaps her own red face, still holding his phone, gawking at it, switching her gaze between his torso and his face as he frowns.

"What are you doing?!" he shouts, flustered at her aggressiveness.

Burying her face into her palms briefly, she startles him when her fingers finally hit the keyboard to talk again.

[That stun baton hurt you.]

"That's obvious, I'm not made of steel," he tucks his shirt back into his pants, unamused. "This is what you're going on about? You don't need to freak out like this, it's not a problem."

[Didn't that guy literally electrocute you?!]

The screen of his device shakes along with her trembling hands, her legs wobbly as she walks from one side to another, thoughtful, he's dizzy just following her with eyes. Then she halts, wide eyed, pale like white paper:

[I thought only people from the underground would attack you, but in the pro-league too? Why?!]

"True it's more common around the illegal side of duels, but in the minor leagues you'll also find these types who are desperate to climb up and do anything for it. I put myself in this position, so I can't complain."

[You can't complain?! That was a clear assault! And you got hurt by that!]

"And? Pursuing my attacker or denouncing him is a waste of time and effort," he spouts bitterly, avoiding direct eye contact.

[How can you say this?]

"Why are you upset?" his eyes swerve to the side momentarily, widening in an encompassing fear. "Did you get hurt anywhere during the fight?"

With furrowed brows, her face wrinkled, she shakes her head off, seemingly distressed, why does he think this is about her? His phone escapes slowly from her fingertips because of the cold sweat pouring from there.

Ryo acts like this isn't a big deal, but how many times has he been attacked by now? And they don't even know each other for long, but it happened twice already. Her stomach churns and churns inside the more she dwells onto it.

Did he rile up those duelists? Even so, this is no reason to attack him. Why are so many people wanting to harm him in some way? Stabbing and using stun batons… Did he mess with the mafia or what?!

He observes attentively, Rie's gaze dazes off on the carpets, he could see some small transparent droplets accumulating on her face, almost hearing her heart pounding there in the silence, convinced that his finger would sizzle if he touched her cheeks now.

Why is she this disconcerted? That guy's target was him, it was never anything about her. Was her brother onto something with thinking she has a thing for him or that she is a huge fan? Albeit he isn't sure what that means to him even if it's true.

He speaks again, luring her gaze onto his. "If you wanted an autograph that much, you could have just asked for it, I'd have given you one."

Normally that would be part of his bantering, but Ryo was deadly serious, both in tone and in his standoff expression. Fumes exploded out of her head, her skin beet-red.

[I didn't want any autograph! That was all Haru's strange misconceptions!]

"Why did you follow me there, then?" he fully turns to face her, crossed arms and a narrowed, doubtful gaze. "It's fine being in the stadium as any other person watching the duel, but stalking me to the outer area of the building alone… I thought the contract was clear with the 'no involvement outside' clause."

[That was also Haru's scheme! I didn't even realize the depth of the issue until I saw you entering that venue!]

"Are you telling me your brother dragged you against your will to that duel stadium to watch my duel or what?"

[It's complex.]

She purses her lips, regretting her choice of words, fearing just which opinion he must have of her now, it does sound like she's following him around like a swoony fangirl. With a deep sigh, wallowing in shame, she weaves what seemed like a minute-long message.

[My brother wanted to go out with me and I agreed, but he never told me where we were going. I just tagged along and then, I found myself in a duel stadium, and you're there as a competitor, can you imagine how surprised I was? I didn't expect that he'd take me there of all places. But nowadays all Haru has in his head is dueling, so it's in part my fault too for not foreseeing this outcome.]

"Did you tell him anything about our current situation?"

[No, I didn't!] she frets, fumbling her fingers, taking a moment to rearrange her thoughts.

"He does think you're my number one fan, though, there has to be a reason for that. Or are you saying being there exactly during my duel was pure coincidence?"

[No, it wasn't,]

She opens her mouth to say the phrases along, but drops the idea midway. Hesitancy rusting the joints of her fingers to write yet another long message.

[Haru saw some old duel magazines with you printed on the cover, in my room. Ever since then, he believes I'm a die-hard fan or something, and he thought it would be a great idea to take me to watch your duel.]

"You have magazines featuring me in your room?" he raises a brow at that.

Wincing, she twiddles her fingers to prepare an excuse. How is she gonna explain that to him? Especially under this analytical gaze of his, like he's probing her intentions. Bursting in embarrassment, she clicks the keyboard so quickly that he barely has time to assimilate the last message.

[I bumped into an old magazine with your face printed on it, saying something about fall from grace or whatever and I got curious, okay? Plus, some of those were from Haru's duel magazine stash, I technically just borrowed it from him. That's all!]

"And you read that trash to sate your curiosity?" for the first time that night, he laughed wholeheartedly because she said something funny.

Coming from Rie, this was unexpected, one thing is her jittery behavior around him and how her cheeks turn the same color as her hair when their eyes meet sometimes. Rie does easily get overcome by emotions, but that she was engaged in some personal investigations, just to find out more about him, his heart fluttered a bit there.

"If you were curious about anything, why didn't you just ask me? Don't you think it's silly to be reading magazines when I'm right here in front of you? Do you know how many people wouldn't miss the chance to talk to their idol?"

[You're not my idol and you wouldn't tell me anyways…]

"Why do you think that?" his tone oscillates, shocked at her creed in what she said.

If she knew how much that afflicted gaze of hers made him waver. How her words had more effect than he'd admit when she peeled her feelings so openly. A burbling thought only crossed his mind, he didn't want to aggravate her or let her down.

[Let's not pretend we're here to be friends. You and I, we're both in deep trouble, that's why we're here, you know my circumstances, but I don't know yours. Plus, we're abiding by a contract and I messed up, I should've found out where Haru wanted to take me first. It'd have been terrible had your manager found me and my brother there,] massaging her temples, she sighs disheartened.

Is this really the impression she has of him? That he'd ignore her completely even if she were to try clarifying what's in her mind?

"I would have answered had you asked," he states in a subtle dismay.

[You told me to not bother you,] her contesting comes accompanied by a confused furrow of her brows. [I'm doing exactly that.]

"Forget that command, I'm saying you can ask now," he blurts out, not thinking twice. "I'd rather not dab on what you're doing with duel magazines with me on it, so I'll answer your questions."

She flushes at that statement, banging her head in denial, she's not having any dirty thoughts or anything, the façade falling that he's well aware of it when he shields his mouth, muffling a snicker.

"I was just playing around, I'm a public figure, of course it's not new that people have magazines with my face stamped on it, those press companies have rights to divulge my image, even if it's in a bad way and people like you are free to buy it."

The fact she's thinking about him outside their meetings here is endearing, although similar to how his fans were, he can tell Rie's genuine worry for him.

"But frankly speaking, there's nothing you can gain from reading those tabloids, they're utter garbage. You'd do well not to support them by buying it. I'm more interested in what is so mysterious about me you couldn't hold back, anyways? I'm just a duelist, no secret agendas."

[I don't know what else to say. You looked like a completely different person in those articles and they had only bad things written about you. I don't know enough to opine on it, but how can you just ignore it? Doesn't that make you mad? That people are bluntly slandering you to the world?]

Saddened at the prospect, her eyebrows curl on their own, the subject she brought up stemmed more a fight against her inner self than his problem of always being portrayed as the villain.

So she wanted to hear about his past? As the "Kaiser"? He sneers, surely she wouldn't be pleased to hear the whole underground tale.

"I'm past the point where I mind, after all, no matter what they write, all I care about are my results in duels," he glances at her, her pouty lips announcing she doesn't find the reply satisfying, but it's his time to ask. "What about you? Aren't you mad your brother just took you there without previous notice?"

[I was.]

"Why do you let him do this stuff, then?"

[Haru feels obligated to care for me, but that sometimes leads to problems.]

"I can empathize with him, if I were your brother, I'd also worry, you're such an easy prey," she flinches at his nonchalant insult. "But if you're bothered, why not tell him that? Aren't you the big sister?"

[He doesn't listen to me and he's not even aware of how much indebted we are, I don't want him to worry about this stuff. He might act like an adult, but he's a kiddie inside, he even used the allowance I give him every month to pay for the tickets of your duel.]

"Aren't you sugarcoating the truth from him too much?"

[He was always the special one in the family, but I don't want it to hinder his growth as a person.]

"Special? He looked like a normal brat to me."

[He's had many expectations over him ever since the start. I don't want him to turn out to be like our father because of feeling pressured.]

"If you're not happy as the situation stands, shouldn't you try and explain it to him?"

His gaze darts off to the sky, pondering that he himself could take the advice to heart, thus he has no rights to be telling her that.

[He thinks he has this duty of caring for me and I can't fault him for it because this is how he was raised, constantly told to take care of me, like I'm this frail sister that can't do anything alone, he doesn't see me as an adult figure he should respect,] she sighs before writing the next amount of rant. [But I don't want to tell him about the debt, he'd just blame himself for going to the academy and spending our money on him. Besides, how do you think I'd go about explaining our current agreement? That you bought me out of prostitution?]

His lips seal shut, considering it for a moment, concluding fast. "I don't think you can explain that. But why was he being told to take care of you? Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

[Because Haru was born perfect and I wasn't.]

It struck him, he held his breath astounded. Perfect? That word fazed him to the core, while meant to be something good, for him, it never was. Because perfection implies no change, and without change one cannot grow. He was stalled too, for a long time.

A hazy, saddened glint glistens on his orbs, as brief as his next move, when he steals the phone from her hands, she fusses about it with a yammering mouth, questioning what's wrong as he hides the object in his inner pocket, offering his hand to her.

Puzzled, she blinks a few times before landing her slim fingers atop his palm, her arm whooshed to the side, her hand coated by the warmth of his as his other hand lands swiftly near the top of her ribcage. Starting with a side step, taking her along for a waltz, just like the night at the stadium, but not nearly as forceful.

What he did back there was pretty cool with protecting her. But being chased by dangerous people wasn't any exciting. Even though Ryo has such a standoff, cold demeanor, his hands held her so caringly, a delicate, but firm touch, it was also like this during those choreographed moves to avoid the incoming attacks of the criminals.

"They say if you have a bad memory engraved in your brain, you can try rewriting it by experiencing different feelings while reliving it," he exposes his mind, convincing her he predicted her inquiry.

She's focused on her feet to not trip on him, despite him moving slowly, holding onto his shoulder, her gaze lowered, drifting off as she follows mechanically, her face burning hot.

What's with him now? He's usually sarcastic, then suddenly he decides to be kind?

"You know what? Dancing is similar to training martial arts too, you need timing."

He guides her, stepping right and left at a smooth pace, his chin held high with composure like his mind had engraved all the steps into his body as he mechanically executed the moves in an eximious manner.

The conflicted frown between her brows elicits a faint curve down his lips, anxious at her constant inquiring stare, a fading blush on his cheeks.

"If you had told me in advance you'd come, I'd give you the best seat," he quips, an underlying hint of sourness that she never asked, he meant it.

I didn't want it! I already explained it was a mistake!

He can almost listen to her hissing. Unlike him, Rie has done nothing wrong to deserve to be here, and even though she never heard his story, she has been doing her research. That she isn't afraid of him, enough that she'd want to ask about his circumstances, despite all the bad things she must've read and heard and in how much trouble she's gotten just by being close, it's relieving, in a sense.

Why does he feel relief? Should she find out the truth of what he's been up to here and which duels he's been taking part in, she wouldn't be as nice to him, would she? A shade dims his face dim at the prospect.

He'd told her she should change and act more tough, but now that it comes to it, he's glad she didn't. This sensible, loving side of hers was comforting and alluring at the same time, like witnessing a white lily growing in the dark mud. His heart swayed at her kindness. A pity she was still chastised by it, by her brother too.

His movements stop, breaking their dance apart. Unlike the usual coldness imbued in his voice, a serene, fond tone:

"I don't think there's anything wrong with you, Rie," her gaze perks up, ensnared by his, surprised even. "Perfection is overrated anyways," he leans onwards, her hair plying over his fingers as he gently brings her head closer, delivering a short peck onto her head, whispering near her ear. "You're fine the way you are."

Her fingers wrap tighter around his hand. She fusses even more, her mouth open, gathering jumbled words to talk.

"What? I haven't forgotten how to properly thank someone yet."

It's all written in her expression, she doesn't understand what she's being thanked for, a soft chuckle breaching out of him at how cutely perplexed she was.

"You don't know?" a faint smile blooms on his lips. "I'll do it in the more usual way for fans, then," he boldly seizes her hand for a handshake. "Thank you for your patronage."

I'm not your fan!

Giving up on contesting, her head plops down, wondering what's so funny about teasing her. Her cheeks simmering with heat as she reminisced his sentence about being fine the way she is. He's just giving mixed signals, first showing indifference to her just to flip his attitude.

Maybe he regrets the way he acted? She entwined the threads of her own headcanon, glancing over as he nested himself at the usual sitting spot on the couch, checking his deck again, his cellphone tossed to the side of the table.

He's alerted when footsteps draw near, the seat beside him deflating as the cushion sinks lightly at her weight, getting a hold of his device:

[Would you really have gotten a special seat for me?]

Taken aback by the question, he inhales, preparing a reply, but from that intrigued, lively sparkle in her eyes, he could tell that wasn't the only query she had.

In the duel academy,

An explosion lifts a cloud of dust in the middle of the night, dissipating through the trees nearby the yellow Ra dorm. Shou defends his eyes despite it only being an hologram, he grits his teeth slightly, his brows crooking.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Come on, Shou senpai," he couldn't help but notice the challenging undertone. "This is a friendly duel."

"Haru, this is enough!" Misawa barges in from the side.

"I was hoping to learn something with the senpai here, Misawa!"

"What do you mean by that? I'm not that much older than you," Shou shivers at the sharp, blazing glare of his opponent.

"I just wanted to see by myself how strong you are, but you have no monsters and only a face-down card, you've lost!" he stretches his hand, a confident grin showing his teeth. "Witchcrafter Vice-Madame! Attack his field!"

The dark-haired spellcaster looks down on Shou, half of her bangs covering an eye, holding her staff high in the air, she gathers a ball of lightning above it, but before that duel can resume, everyone is startled at the sound of a real blast nearby, the birds flying away in droves.

A failing noise echoes as the holograms disappear, cancelling the duel, the boys stare at each other in confusion before darting off to check the origins of that sound. An uncanny fog surrounded the area, a silhouette detaching from the mist.

Shou shrieked, hiding behind Misawa, both him and Haru clutching their fists, frowning, prepared to fend off any opponent, much to their awe, the one coming out of there was Manjoume.

His posture straight, exuding pride, his gaze set beyond them, so full of himself he but flinched upon noticing their presence, showing the insignificance they represented:

"Ah, you're all here? Well, it doesn't matter."

He grins, his eyes focused on something beyond them, walking past as they gape confused:

"Hey, Manjoume, we heard a big explosion, did something happen?"

"Ah, it was just a duel! An enlightening experience," his gaze drifts off, in drunken fashion, it creeps them out.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that I understand my mission on earth now!" he nods to himself.

Walking ahead, he waves the back of his hand at them, leaving them even more perplexed as he declares:

"You'll all know in time! The light will bring everyone together!"

Misawa and Shou hunch their shoulders, it's not from today that Manjoume was known for his strange antics, but this was weirder than usual. What is going on with him?