The art for the cover is in better quality and size in Ao3 if you are interested to check it out!

Chapter 6

First impressions

Inside the duel academy's main building, the midday break started, people gathered at the meal hall or in the library, their colorful uniforms crowding the corridors, chattering echoing everywhere.

A few Obelisk students stand on the walkways, cackling and mocking someone. Their target, a boy, whose pink hair spiked to the side above his shoulder, his bangs couldn't cover the wrinkles on his forehead, his sharply drawn blue eyes flashing to their side in an annoyed glare.

"He's gotten one of the best grades amongst his peers."

"Oh, yeah, but I've heard his family went bankrupt. So how does getting good grades help him exactly?"

"That is so ludicrous. Someone like him shouldn't even be allowed in this prestigious academy."

"What did you expect from the Ra dorm? They're such a low-life place, no class at all."

"Even if he got a few good grades, he's nothing compared to us Obelisks, that conceited nose of his will bend down once he gets to know his place."

"I bet he can't even duel that great and I doubt he can afford the best cards," the boy guffaws, followed by his goons.

Clutching his fists and gritting his teeth, the pink-haired whirls around, but before he stomps his way to the mean students, a hand lands on his shoulder.

"Don't waste your time, Haru."

His feet stagger, sliding in a half-circle motion to the side, gaping astounded at the fellow Ra yellow student, a boy bulkier than him, with spiky dark hair and calm, grey eyes.

"Daichi senpai?"

"It's not worth it, trust me," he smiles briefly.

"Y-You're right…"

"You're probably better than their level, from what I've seen, however, the rules dictate only people who previously studied in the middle school duel academy are allowed to enroll in obelisk from the get-go. But worry not, you'll have your opportunity to change dorms at the end of the year."

"I know," he takes a deep breath, calming himself down.

Another Ra yellow student darts by their side, stopping and running in place, anxious and impatient.

"Shou, where are you going?" the taller student asks.

"Oh, Misawa! My brother's duel will start soon!"

"Is it already the day of his re-debut?"

Nodding once, he rushes out, beckoning and shouting over his shoulder. "I'll miss it if I don't hurry!"

"I'll catch up to you later! I want to see the Kaiser's duel too!"

"Isn't that the second year who entered our dorm recently? I remember seeing him a couple times," Haru asks. "I've heard some students mentioning this Kaiser before… But it can't be…?"

"Well, would you like to come to the Osiris red dorm and see the duel for yourself?"

He smiles faintly, excited even, Haru nods, and they walk along. Someone who earned the attention of Misawa, who was known to be too entertained by his own formulas and dueling, has to be a special duelist.

"I didn't know you hung around the Osiris dorm."

"I go there from time to time to meet some friends."

"You got friends there?"

He raises a brow, mostly because of the bad rumors and the prejudice from the students. However, those came from Obelisk students and even some Ra students, maybe he shouldn't trust too much this whole elitist speech.

"Yeah, Shou came from there too."

"I see," he trails off, his eyes curiously cast at the older boy again. "So, when you say Kaiser, you can't mean the Kaiser, right? That one with Cyber Style?"

"It's him, yes. He's Shou's older brother and he's a pro duelist now. He studied here until last year, and he was the image of a perfect duelist! The best we had!"

"He was pretty famous outside the academy, I've seen his face in duel advertisements."

His tone is unimpressed, not that he wants to judge, but isn't that a bit of an exaggeration to say he was perfect? The guy disappeared from the pro scenario in but a couple months in it, does he really reflect the "best" the academy can offer? Didn't they hype him too much?

"I've seen the Kaiser pop up in some magazines, but he wasn't on par with Edo Phoenix's level in the end. Now, that's who I call a genius!"

"Ah," Misawa smiles wryly, a bead of sweat delineating his face. "You'll see. He had some troubles recently, and disappeared from the media for a while, so we're very enthusiastic to finally see him on screens again."

Problems? Besides losing and sinking into the minor leagues? Is he involved in scandals or what?

"Eh, you're making me curious," his eyes narrow cynically. "I'm surprised both brothers would study at the very same duel academy."

"I don't have siblings, so I wouldn't know, but true enough not all siblings pursue the same professions."

"You bet that, my older sister doesn't have any interest in dueling."

"You have an older sister?" a sketch of intrigue surfaces on his brows.

"Yes, she's… special," his eyes lowered, faltering in affliction for a second. "People say we do look alike, but she didn't even pay attention when I was trying to talk about dueling."

"I daresay, no pictures, no proof," he raises a finger in opposition.

"I'll show you some pics of us when we get back," his eyes drop halfway, mistrusting the intentions of his friend. "But you better not be eyeing my sis."

"Haha, I'm just curious, I didn't think you had siblings, you never mentioned it in our idle chats during our mock duels. Plus, I already have someone in my heart," he touches his chest tenderly, his cheeks flushing at the reminiscence of a young woman with tanned skin and blue eyes, her red hair tied in a ponytail.

"Okay, you're giving me the creeps, senpai, but I'll trust your word."

As they talk about other topics, after a good thirty minute walk, Misawa is very familiar with the ambience, going straight to the annex building that seemed newer than the run-down main block.

Better than our place, I say.

Haru wanders his orbs all over, analyzing it. They enter a living room with wooden flooring, a small higher area separated by a few stair steps that lead into a corridor containing closed doors at both ends. There are a few Obelisk blue girls sitting at the stairway, not just any girls, Asuka, the Obelisk queen herself is among them, he blushes at the sight, she but spares a neutral glance at him.

There's a colorful mix of student uniforms, some of the ones he knows included: Tyranno Kezan, the infamous Manjoume Thunder and the carefree Judai hated by most obelisks because he apparently beat a bunch of them in duels.

I didn't know Obelisk blues would mingle "plebs" like us and Osiris.

"Hey it's about to start!" Judai, an Osiris red student grins. "You brought a friend today?"

"Yeah, this Haru Kinomoto, a first-year of the Ra yellow like Kenzan."

Waving his hand a tad awkwardly to the group. Everyone is already at their spots, Misawa simply guides him with a tilt of head, they take a seat near the TV. He crosses his arms, to gather this many students who seem to admire and acknowledge him, the whole tale about being the "best" student doesn't sound as far-fetched now.

The narrator announces the entrance of the duelist, they can hear the loud hoots of the audience, but some of them are more a bark of complaint than amusement. The stadium is a bit shabby too, but given how concentrated the students were on the screen, it just didn't feel right to question anything at the moment.

Isn't that a minor league stadium? What about being the best student again?

One of the contestants was a man with brown hair, simple clothing that didn't look professional at all, and on the other side, a whole unique sight: a man clad in black, his blue hair rebelliously spiking to the sides, a devious smirk on his face. Haru had to crook a brow at that even more at his new pro nickname "Hell Kaiser Ryo".

His style, everything about him is so overbearing. It's true some duelists use minor bashing or provoking to unsettle their opponents, but his attitude and that irritating arrogance exhaling from him was far off the border of simple tactics, in a bad way. He can't recognize him as a serious duelist with this behavior, at least when he was losing before, he was more relatable and humble.

Are we supposed to be cheering for this guy?

A peek around is enough to see the bewilderment in their faces. Were they also not expecting this? He has never met the Kaiser in person, but he has the impression he does not deserve all the praise and admiration from his colleagues.

Just who does this guy think he is?

With a low huff, Haru shakes off his head. He sure hopes not all duelists of the pro league have the disparaging behavior or he'll also have issues with them down the road. The mood of disbelief becomes even more tense as the narrator adds fuel to the fire with words, calling his style destructive.

[Such unseen strength! Such power! He climbed back from hell at a stupefying speed!]

Hell Kaiser, huh, he sure fits the bill…

At the minor league stadium,

Under the unusually obfuscating lights, Ryo hears the cheers from the whole arena, they praise his performance, his hazy orbs aimlessly scanning the grandstand, stopping at the corridor dividing it in two, around which many reporters stood, microphones ready.

So fickle. Not long ago they were lynching me out of the stadium and look at them now.

His steps are fearless, he doesn't care what they have to ask or say or even assume of him, Saruyama on the other hand, is more than happy to answer their questions for him.

"So, can his success be attributed to you, as his manager?"

"He always had latent talent, he just needed a small 'push', and after we settled that, this is the result!"

As if. All you did was throw me into a pit and let it be set on fire.

Ryo's eyes squint at his manager, ignoring the flashes of cameras and pictures taken, he marches onward to the shades of the corridor, not without casting a side glance at Saruyama who quickly catches on the message, coming near him while some guards blockade the journalists who wanted to follow them.

"Why the long face? It wouldn't hurt to answer some questions, of course, you can leave that solely for me if you prefer."

"I don't want to get involved with the media. You do that, I'm paying you for this."

"Right," he scoffs, bobbing his head as if it was obvious from the start. "Regardless, we should celebrate your victory!"

"Celebrate?"

His feet hamper roughly, a crackling noise as the grains of dirt drag under his sole, a grave tone in his voice, sending daggers with a glare at his manager.

"Don't jump your gun, This was just my first duel, I will only do as much as a celebration when I'm back in the major league."

"Oh, don't worry, you're certain to ascend from now on, you got all the attention with your new performance, people will love you despite your unapproachable image, believe me, they love a good, cold duelist."

"Saruyama, you promised fame, and I doubt all the sponsors were convinced to let me duel their respective duelists, so do your job. I expect more duels before I can count on the fame."

"Cautious as ever," he snickers, a certain annoyance to it. "Very well, I shall provide more duels, it won't be a problem, as for you, don't forget your next 'appointments' this week."

Saruyama… He wouldn't let go of the bone so easily, would he?

He's referring to an underground duel. Not that it matters anymore, whether it's the spectators here or of the underground, they're all the same to him. His promoter happily walks back to answer the questions of the journalists again and flare his re-debut. A myriad of voices, rough ones and girly ones call his name, almost pleading for his attention, but Ryo disappears into the sides of the stage.

Henceforth, the way is only up.

A couple days later,

Rie sits at her study desk, her legs crossed over the tatamis, her toes curling and stretching as she reads an old magazine, a foggy, distressed gaze. She's been reading those recently, and every time there's a mention of Ryo's name, it's never good.

As for other duelists, they seem to always take the spotlight, and the articles brag about their charity raising fund events and donations, her eyebrows furrow in pity. Technically, Ryo also helped her, someone in need, while he can't get away with supporting a prostitution chain, it's unfair he's only ever referred to when it's bad news or put in secondary plan compared to the other duelists. She idly check the written lines:

"A professional duelist or beastly criminal? The outrageous re-debut of Hell Kaiser Ryo (18) left fans conflicted and divided. His newfound belligerent style sent his opponent to the hospital due to the tension caused with his violent summoning translated into the holographic projections and stress of the duel. Should the minor league really welcome such duelist?"

Rie's brows coil upwards. Maybe his cynical demeanor stems from this treatment he gets? Tossing the paper onto a pile of old magazines borrowed temporarily from her brother's stash, she sighs. An alarm clock rings, her eyes blinking awake. Almost stumbling onto the pink cushion she used as a seat, she hurries to grab her sports bag that she prepared beforehand.

I will miss the last train if I don't go fast!

Shoving the door open, he rushes through the apartment to the entrance, already in her outside clothes, her father simply follows her with eyes, yelling from over his shoulder:

"Take care, Ri-"

Before he finishes, the entrance door is whacked closed, he scratches his cheek, puzzled. For those past days, Rie has been ignoring him, this never happened before, she was always so kind hearted and mushy. Is the underworld hardening her or is she still mad at him for giving her the task of paying their family debt?

It's past midnight when she arrives at the hotel. The huge skyscraper that used to be menacing doesn't look as uninviting anymore. In truth, she's been waiting to come here, it's the only time she has to peacefully sit, no worries or obligations and concentrate on her studies.

Passing by the main hall, she enters the dressing room in the shady corridor, putting on the outfit of her choice, not even bothered by the other ladies around. On the way to the special lift, she greets the guards at the door, they raise a brow, despite all the roughing up they did at times, she keeps a polite, refined posture as if that affects her no more, entering the elevator.

It's not long after that Saruyama and Ryo pass by, the manager giving a last tap on his duelist's shoulder:

"I'm sure all your 'training' will show up in the next duels of the minor league."

Averting his orbs, uninterested in whatever that man in blabbering, he leaves, taking the lift too. Saruyama scoffs, shaking his head before turning around, stopping as he overhears some comments.

"Isn't that the duelist guy who let the escort run his first night here?"

"Aye. She started bringing a bag with stuff, I have to inspect it every time."

The guards sneers. "What is she even having in there?"

"Just a few things, a change of clothes and books."

"Books?" he repeats in shock. "And clothes?"

"I don't know what goes through her head, but I'll tell you I'm not even surprised, people here have the strangest kinks."

"Let's not dab onto that."

Casting a dubious glance, Saruyama grins, putting a hand to his chin, pondering.

At the top floor,

Ryo slams the door of the hotel open, trudging into the room, scrutinizing the surroundings with a warped vision, his boots aren't the only pair of shoes at the entrance, it seems his "hostess" has arrived.

His steps are hefty, he can't deny his body has been feeling weak lately, dropping to the couch, he sits leaning onto the back of it, letting go of his briefcase on the ground, taking a moment to breathe deeply, then straightening up after noticing the newspaper of the day. A request of his, that was promptly fulfilled by the hotel staff.

A shadow flashing by his peripheral vision, there's a soft click of the bathroom door closing, but his eyes are too busy with the headlines to bother with it.

"Edo Phoenix (15) was seen leaving the house of a young lady late at night around his age. After being questioned about the nature of their relationship recently, he assured that the said woman is only a friend and there's no romantic feelings involved, although many of his fans believed it, a big part of them remains in protest and demands further explanations, he hasn't come forth yet. Who could be the beautiful lady and what is truly their relationship? Is Edo Phoenix a womanizer at such a young age?! Will this affect his performance in the pro-league?"

Ryo sneers. Those newspapers couldn't be less serious. It's assuring in a sense, he's not the only one persecuted by them like a witch hunt, they're out for anything on anyone and not even the great and popular Edo can elude the gossipy tabloids.

There's another headline that catches the eye at the bottom of the page, a short article about his comeback, which he couldn't be more uninterested in. Tossing the papers aside, he lines up his deck onto the table.

The card he holds is swept away by the strong gust of wind produced by the door opening at once, landing on the carpet, face-up: Chimeratech Dragon.

Propelling himself slightly up with a hand, he stops midway after spotting that blot of pink-hair. He completely forgot about her.

Rie crouches down, a plaid pastel colored dress tied by straps to her shoulder stretching thin to the the cloth under the line her bust adorned by oversized buttons, the skirt flapping over her black-stocking covered thighs, the long sleeves of her slim, frilly turtleneck white shirt almost hindering her grasp on the card. Walking up to him, she offers it silently, a tiny smile on her face.

She looks just like a normal girl in those clothes, isn't that how it should be? Closing his gaping mouth, realizing he might've been staring too long, he asks:

"Did you have any problems bringing your stuff in?"

Her eyes run to the side, entwining her fingers and twiddling with them in front of her when she remembers how they opened her black sports bag and haphazardly threw all the contents out, inspecting it as if she's a criminal. Instead of telling the story, she smiles wryly, denying with a shake of head.

"That's good," his apathetic answer just puts her off, even more as his eyes chase the card onto his hand.

Sighing in defeat, she sits at the chair across from him, there are many questions left to be asked, but it's not a subject she could casually talk about, she'd sound nosy and blunt. Pulling out a book from her black, cylinder sports bag supported by the side of the furniture, flinching at the contents there.

The shuffling of her messing with her bag reaches his ears, by the time he raises his gaze in a complaint, she's in front of him, hand stretched, the cloth she holds almost bumping onto his face.

It's his overcoat, the one he used back when they met. He recalls vaguely he did give it away to her at some point, but hasn't it been a few weeks at least? Instead of taking it, he stares blankly at her.

"Why are you showing me this?"

Pointing her finger at him, she flaps it open, the fresh smell of liquid soap flaring in the air, the lapel that was cut off is fixed too. Rie nods proud of herself, she paid some amount to get it fixed and washed clean from that blood, as it's the bare minimum of courtesy since she was lent this and it looks expensive to be thrown away.

"I got dozens of those, I don't need it," his eyes are no longer on her when he speaks. "Just throw it away or something."

A wind blows freezing Rie in place. Her hand trembles, not out of cold, but of a boiling, increasing irritation, her clutch stretching the cloth to its limits, about to rip it apart. What does he mean by he "doesn't need it?" The nerve!

I'll sell it for a high sum for crazy fans and get every cent of it back!

Storming her way back, she hurls the coat into the bag again and takes out a book, opening it at a bookmarked page, but catches herself throwing annoyed glances over.

Ryo is so concentrated in his cards that her presence was completely erased from the room. It's been like this since the first night, she's glad he respects the agreement, albeit this vague treatment leaves a sour aftertaste in her mouth.

Of course, he's a famous duelist, there's nothing he could be talking to her about, but this brings her back to school when the teacher had to pair her up with someone because no one would choose her for a partner in groups.

A memory lingers in her mind, a black-haired girl whose face was half covered by shadows, smiling ruefully:

"I'm sorry, Rie. My family will move out of the country, so I don't think we'll be hanging out anymore."

Ever since her friend left, she was stranded amidst the other students, passing by those bustling corridors of the high school, yet no one would approach her to talk. That was around the time she had to start working to help with her father's debt.

"Wouldn't you like to come with us to the movies?"

"You can't talk, but you can still listen, right? Don't you want to have a girls day?"

[Thank you for the invitation, but I can't. I have to work.]

Writing that message was hard and disheartening. As the girls looked at each other, snorting to themselves in scepticism and hunching their shoulders, they went away. Their voices soaring louder as they left, intentionally so she overhears them:

"She must think she's so much better 'cause she got a part-time job."

"Don't you know her family got poor? Don't be so mean."

"Oh, really? Then she probably can't afford the movies anyways. My bad."

Why would someone even go through the trouble of speaking to her anyways? It makes no sense and it is too idealistic of her to expect people will always try to, especially not a person like him.

Isn't it already plenty he's paying for her debt, now must he be friendly too? No matter how much she has, why is she so greedy? Why did he even help her in the first place? Even if his interests are involved, is that all? Her mind fights a battle to coherently put together which type of person he is, the magazines, the TV, what is true and what isn't, it's unclear and being in the same room with a person who is nothing but an empty canvas is concerning.

The disarray of thoughts is interrupted, both of them startled when a knock comes from the door. They exchange a glance, but she's as confused as he is. He stands up in a second, answering the door, his brows furrowing profusely.

Saruyama? What is he doing here?

"Mr. Ryo," he greets, taking off his hat and putting it back right away. "I apologize for interrupting your free time, may I have a minute?"

From behind the door, Ryo flings a hand at Rie, telling her to scram, she grabs her belongings and rushes to the bathroom, locking herself in there, her ear glued on the door to listen to the outside.

Saruyama first maps the surroundings, seeing the emptiness of the room, snickering.

"A bit cold here isn't it?" without consent, he takes the nearest seat, at the padded chair, his grin enlarging, the seat is still warm. "No company yet?"

"She's still preparing."

"Preparing?" he raises a brow.

Ryo crosses one leg above the other, sending a standoff stare to his manager and cutting the man's dialogue off, impatient with his prying.

"Why did you come here?"

"Ah, right, I wanted to inform you I've scheduled more duels for you in the pro-league."

"When?"

Rie can hear their muffled voices discussing, she walks right and left in front of the mirror, nibbling her nails in panic. His manager is outside, the same one who dragged her before. They're talking about important matters too.

"Two of them for this next weekend to be more precise. Aren't you exhilarated?"

"I'll have to win twice as much as I lost to get back in the major league, I don't see why I should be exhilarated now."

"True, but aren't you satisfied everything is going well so far?" he shrugs off.

"I'll be satisfied when I see the results, Saruyama."

With a scoff, his manager dismisses the topic, looking around shrewdly, probing the waters.

"You're really a gentleman, letting your escort 'prepare'," he sniggers as if the concept itself was unthinkable.

"How long do you intend to stay?"

"I just thought we could chat about your next duels, since it seems your company is taking their sweet time."

Rie's pores bristle at the mention. He's onto something isn't he? She can't hide in the bathroom forever, the man keeps dragging the conversation. Can't Ryo do something about him? She can barely overhear him mumbling a "Yeah" sometimes as most of the talking is done by his manager. Why did he have to mention she's preparing?

Supporting her palms on the dark marble counter, she stands ahead of one salient white sink, another sink to her left, a set of small white towels on each side and small soap bars and glass cups for toothbrushes. Her black sports bag is dropped on the floor, in the vain space below the counter, underneath a wooden shelf where some hotel accessories were.

From the mirror she can see a single-person bathtub on the opposite wall, to her left the room continues: two cabins are at the end of the wall, one on each side, divided by a walking space, sweated glass enclosing them; one of the cabins consists of a shower area that was large enough to fit more than one person and the other cabin, is a normal toilet.

Looking around in a haste, she considers the options: appearing there fully dressed isn't one of them and waltzing in there naked also is out of the question. What does she do? Scrambling her hair strands messily, her eyes roam around aimless, trying to find anything that could help, then her vision lands on the insides of her half open bag.

The improper clothes she brought from the dressing room are still there, wincing at it, quickly glancing over the objects on the shelf underneath the marble counter. There is a hair drier, some small face towels and bathing robes. A gasp as an idea crosses her mind.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she slaps both her cheeks, leaving a reddened handprint there momentarily.

You got it, Rie! You have it in you to pretend to be anything you want!

The door of the bathroom opens with a loud click, shoved open, as if it was planned so they can listen to it. Both of the men in the room turn their heads to the source of sound in reflex.

Rie strides towards Ryo's direction as if there was a catwalk leading to him, her heart thumping louder at each step, her expression contained to small tugs at the corners of her lips, a façade she could barely keep.

Where did she learn how to walk like this? He gapes slightly in awe as she approaches dressed in a bathrobe, so stunned to react that he can't even let down his Cyber Dragon card. It's safe to assume that she understood the hint to show her face at least a bit so his manager doesn't suspect them.

Casting a quick glance at Saruyama who smirks unfazed, she plops by Ryo's side on the couch, leaning in near him. Her bathrobe bending halfway open, revealing the bow-bandeau bikini whose black top piece showed a small amount of her lower breasts, not even covering the line underneath them.

Her hand boldly lands under his chest, her fingers drumming up the middle line of it with flutter strokes, leaving a ticklish trail. His eyes widened subtly, impressed at her performance. It lasts only a millisecond.

"Don't you see I'm busy?"

Declaring stoically, he grabs her wrist, taking it off of him, flashing his eyes away from her. He's saturated with all the bare skin and has seen more than he should of it from those pictures alone. If only she knew, she'd hate him, wouldn't she?

His manager contains a chuckle when the girl puffs her cheeks dissatisfied with his unamused face.

Right, send her away naturally.

With a wide, shining smile, she pinches the top of the card he holds, tugging it out of his grip effortlessly for he's too flabbergasted to contest her. She gets up with a jump, playfully flaunting the card as she waddles towards the jacuzzi area, to steal his attention, his eyes following her.

Stopping by the glass door, she giggles silently, dropping off the bathrobe, revealing also the lower part of the bikini set, leaving half her plump backside uncovered. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she swipes the card on her lips seductively, as if telling him if he wants it back he should come fetch it, entering the jacuzzi room.

The sight was slightly arousing, his breath hitched there, his heart clutching a bit tight inside his chest, a slight shiver running down his spine, blood agitating inside his veins. Shifting on his seat uncomfortably to recollect his cool, he taps his finger at the seat of the couch. That's his chance.

"As you can see, I need to get that card back," his gaze seeks his manager, still a tad disconcerted. "Saruyama, you know this is my free time. I figured you wanted me to enjoy myself, but I'm not pleased with you coming here now."

"It was a mere disruption, I thought it might improve your mood to know about the duels."

"Oh, I'm in the very right mood," the emphasis he put on the word conveys well his anxiousness in jumping into action. "We should discuss the details of my duels another time."

"Sure, I'll take my leave."

The promoter shrugs off, his eyes narrowing slyly, there was something about it that Ryo disliked, he couldn't quite tell what, but the man has always been unpleasant. Once Saruyama leaves, Ryo lets out a deep breath in relief, also discharging the steam building up in his body. Standing up completely cooled off, he looks into the jacuzzi room, but she's nowhere to be seen.

Retracing her pathway, he catches the bathrobe she dropped, hanging it on his arm, pushing the glass door open with his free hand, glancing around, his posture stiffening when he peeks at the side. Rie is curled up near the wall, embracing her knees, her head so sunk into her kneecaps he can only see her red ears, the strands of her pink hair strewn over her back, drawing its lines, some falling off to the sides, swinging beside her face as she frets, rubbing her head onto her own knees as she repeats mentally:

I want to kill myself.

"Why are you all shriveled?"

With a shove of his arm, he flaps the thick bathrobe open, letting it go as it falls down around her shoulders with a heavy flop, her head bending up instantly, startled, her eyes almost bulging out as he folds his arms sternly, his gaze accompanying her move as she stands up in a hurry, he had to raise a brow at the skittish behavior. Is she still afraid of him?

Where did that confidence she exuded before go?

"Return my Cyber Dragon," he orders, stretching his hand.

She obeys, her fingers grazing on his for a moment, her hand recoiling so fast he'd think there are thorns on his skin.

The card is a bit sweaty where she gripped, his mouth curves down as he nonchalantly rubs it onto the fabric of his shirt to clean it, checking it again like he oversees a precious gem before tucking it into his pocket. How come she's so shy to look into his face now?

Clutching the waist straps of soft, towel-like cloth of the bathrobe, she fastens it around her silhouette slowly. It's cute how utterly devoured by shame she is after such a professional level display of acting.

"You don't need to be so embarrassed, that was a pretty smart idea and it worked out."

It doesn't make it less embarrassing to me! Why did I even do that?

Burying her heated face onto her hands, she screams internally, finding no other hole to hide. How could he just say that?

Letting out a short, inward sigh, he again raises a brow. Perhaps some encouragement would lift her spirits?

"You did well."

Slapping both her shoulders very softly, holding it in a solid grip, he swears she yelped voiceless there, her posture tensing up so much he could as well be handling a stone statue. An instant flush paints her face, her shoulders buckling inward. It took him a glimpse to connect the pieces together, observing her wide eyes glimmering and wavering as if the light in them had life on its own.

Oh, isn't that a big crush we have here?

It's unamusing. The swirly eyes and tomato-red face as well as those fumes coming from her head as if she's about to implode, isn't that exactly like his fans from school and even in the pro leagues? As they tried to confess to him or clumsily haul his attention. His brow crook up in doubt, his fingers unconsciously twitching, easing the grip in regret, he fueled the situation himself.

"We have an agreement here. I won't overstep my boundaries just because you are-"

By half of his sentence she could no longer listen to him, reaching her limits. Next he knows, she's thrusting him away with both hands to his chest, he totters a step back at the force, shouting silently and this one, he easily understood a sentence amidst her yammering: "Hands off, pervert!".

Or not a crush at all… Did she just call me a pervert…?

Taking the opportunity he stumbled a step back, she ran fast, face flat onto her hands, slamming the bathroom door closed behind her. He's left static, computing the situation, rejected without ever making a move, now, that's new. How abashed can one be?

Is she so averse to me that she was triggered by a single touch?

Shaking off his head, he dismisses the thoughts, there are more important questions like what Saruyama truly wanted by coming here?

Is he sniffing onto something? That would be really awful if that's the case… I can't let him find out about our little contract here…

Meanwhile, Rie rests her back against the inner side of the bathroom door, her chest pumping up and down at her erratic heartbeats. She overreacted, but having to act and pretend like that, it's so unlike her. Still, it was wrong to be so physical when Ryo has done nothing, but her hands moved on their own. He kept his end of the bargain, and never once took advantage of her even presented an opportunity to do so, for that alone, she should show some respect.

Soon, she's changed back into her daily clothes, coming out of her hideout, a lowered gaze, coming across from him on the table, she points at him, mimicking the gesture when she pushed him away, then closes a fist, moving it in a clockwise motion above her chest in a solemn posture accompanied by a word of apology breaching through her lips quietly.

Is she using sign language again? Is this a "sorry" or what?

She sits, but not still, her toes scratching the carpet with a crispy noise and a twiddly finger that plays with her own dress.

"It's not your fault," he addresses her again, as if to clear the misunderstanding. "The sudden visitor must've alerted you and I added to the offense unintentionally, my bad." shuffling his deck, he distracts himself. "I'll also ensure my manager won't be as intrusive as today. We're not supposed to be getting visits anyways…"

With a dispirited nod, she confirms, but her gaze never rises, vacant at the table in front of her. There's nothing else he can do, but the mood of the room is disquieting somehow. How can Saruyama manage to ruin his night every time he drops by? That's quite an awful ability.

Her eyes blink confused as an object slides into her field of view, it's his cellphone. Raising her head puzzled, she finally faces him, a smug smirk on his lips.

"I take it you didn't just wing up that femme fatale act? Did you have some previous experience in acting?"

The corners of her lips twitch. Is he mocking her yet again?! She snatches the phone in a second, typing flustered.

[I participated in a recruitment for young teen girls for a theatre play when I was 14.]

"I can't say I expected that."

[They gave some free lectures for the people that enrolled, something about uncovering hidden young prodigies and stars, they even said we could become real models or actresses depending on our performance.]

"Model or actresses?"

His hand cups his mouth, his eyes running her from tip to toe. Rie is a pretty girl, but maybe too much on the endowed side to be a model, she'd probably need to lose some weight to be a professional, though her clothes are more on the chaste side, she does fit well in anything she wears and given her latest act, the girl does have a way with it.

"No, offense, but I thought you'd need to speak out loud for a play."

[None taken. The play was a narration in which the actors were supposed to interact through gesturing and postures without a single or sound, I thought it'd be the perfect chance for me to get a job.]

"If you'd chase those careers, wouldn't you be faring much better in terms of income?" he leans against his seat, swinging his hand to the side to ask what happened.

[I quit it before the end of the selection.]

"That's a very short lived endeavor. Did the pressure get to you?"

He scoffs, sarcasm overflowing from his tone. It wasn't a good moment to make a joke, but the situation hit too close to home for him to miss the chance. His irony vanishes in a second after witnessing that distant, troubled stare of hers.

An unwanted recollection evoked in her mind: a middle-aged man whose face was half hidden.

"You are talented," his deceitful grin enlarging as he tapped her shoulder. "Wouldn't you like a more adult approach in your next photoshoots?" his hand slid up and down her arm, lasciviously. "You have such a nice body, you can go high with it."

"If you come with me to my house, I guarantee you'll be selected…"

Ending that nasty memory, she writes, a bitter taste in her mouth. [The industry wasn't for me.]

"What? Don't tell me you were too shy for it?" he had the inkling sensation he went too far in his provocation, but it was too late.

[The director of the selection offered me the "couch test" to get approved and I refused. After that, I didn't want to have anything to do with the industry, so I quit on my own.]

There's a minor, but heavy sigh from him. Why isn't he so surprised this happened? Maybe he's seen too many bad cases and crimes in the underground that this doesn't faze him anymore.

"Did he do anything to you?"

There's this faintest angle on his brows, almost forming a wrinkle on his forehead, so subtle she can't tell whether it's just his usual grumpy expression or if he was truly annoyed at the situation.

[No, he was just very obvious about his intentions and got angry at me when I said "no".]

"Did you not denounce him?"

[I did, but it ended with my father and me needing to apologize to him for there wasn't any real proof and I didn't even have "my word" against him so to say.]

That also explains a lot on why Rie called him a pervert just by him briefly touching her arm, she must've felt a similarity in the situation with her past. He can't blame her for being triggered.

"What a jerk," he mutters inaudibly. "Well, at least you escaped before they got you…"

That indifferent tone of his sounded grievous, but soon his composure recovered.

"By the way, I know it was a façade, but don't touch my cards without my permission ever again, don't do strange things with them either," he flips the Cyber Dragon she held before. "Understood?"

S-strange things? It was theatrical! And here I thought that no duelist would resist it, the reality slaps me…

There he goes, when she thought he was a bit friendlier, he had to ruin it. With a small frown, she nods full of resolve.

About what I expected from a duel-addict. Not only is he infatuated with his cards, but he's overzealous with them.

Everyone has their own secrets, their own issues, he's no exception. One day, maybe, she can hear it from his very own mouth, what brought him here, to the underground, although that day is not today.

If I had half his sassiness, maybe I wouldn't be here…

Putting his phone down, she drags her chair around, setting it behind the couch, taking a book to read after cozying herself there. They're each to their own, his back turned at her as he concentrated on his deck. Even though there was another person near her at the moment, it felt like the whole room was empty.

I wonder how long it will take… For this debt to be paid.

With a last, sorrowful thought, she discarded those worries, losing herself in the lines of the book. If she can make something useful with her time here, then… At least in the future, she won't have to worry about debts or acting or anything like that.

At the duel academy,

Under the silence of the night, at a cliff, near the coast, a low shout. Haru slips out a card between two fingers, looking at it, gritting his teeth.

Not good enough.

His whole forehead wrinkles, angered, he draws again and again, and again until his hands sweat, the waves crashing onto the rocks below sharing his frustration. He stops for a moment, to take a deep breath. His senses are alarmed by the sound of leaves rustling, his eyes scanning around, he looks at the nearest rock, hiding behind it and peeking over.

Three people come out of the woods: the obelisk queen in person, a brown-haired obelisk student and none other than Edo Phoenix.

What are they doing here?

"Edo, you can't just walk away, what were you doing there?" Asuka demands an answer, fists balled in annoyance.

"Let's just pretend we never passed by each other, shall we? I don't think either of us is correct in breaking curfew," he retorts, flicking his hair and turning his face away smugly.

"Calm down you two," Fubuki jumps in, wobbling his hands to pacify them. "Listen, Edo, you have to admit you being here at this time of night is strange. If you were having a girlfriend, I'd drag my unromantic sister right away to spare you from trouble, but… You're sort of alone? What would a lone man do in those woody parts?"

"I have no interest in answering this question. And you two should not be here either."

"Are you also investigating something?" Fubuki provokes.

Investigating?

"I've warned you," Edo's eyes narrow, almost resentful at them. "You shouldn't be here. Forget you saw me and I'll do the same."

"Hey, wait there! Edo! Don't just run away!"

Asuka and Fubuki chase after him, the three of them disappear into the woods in another direction. Haru is flabbergasted, isn't Fubuki Tenjouin the brother of Asuka? And what would a famous duelist like Phoenix be hunting on the island at night?

This is all strange, but once more he sees a pair of siblings in the dueling school. For some reason, only his sister is so averse to dueling she'd refuse to come along, it could've been fun.

A scene dives into his mind as some faceless boys are gathered around his sister, shouting at her, his fist closing without a second thought, and the next he knows he was about to punch them, as they sweated and feared, his fists are cupped by those warm, gentle hands, as Rie in person shook her head in disapproval, her lips shut in an indifferent line.

That's why people just abuse your kindness, you should grow up too and give people a lesson sometimes, even if you have to punch them for that, sis.

"Ugh," he combs his hair messily with a hand. "Now you've done it, Haru… Maybe I should visit home… I kinda feel worried…"

Looking at the half moon on the sky, he ponders how Rie is doing and whatever those students were up to this late.