Those of you who have read the past two chapters of "Blue Eyes, Violet Eyes" will know that, after a month of hospital visits and unfortunately ineffectual medications and treatments, my grandmother died on the morning of August 11, 2012. She was only 69.
As I did then, I do now: this chapter, and everything else I post on this site from now on, is for her. She would want me to be strong, and keep doing what I love doing. She would want me to share my passion with the world. So that's what I'm doing. I hope that you will join me.
This chapter is building up to something, setting the stage for the eventual main plot. As I'm sure I've said before, there's a lot of groundwork to be laid for this story to work. Like "Cult of the Dragon King" before it, I'm taking a lot into consideration to ensure that the magic in this one follows the rules (or, at least, the spirit) of its source material.
I figure there's not much of a point, otherwise.
I hope that you enjoy this installment.
When Joey Wheeler saw Yugi the day after he'd finished the Millennium Puzzle, the first thought that crossed his mind was how weird it looked to see the puzzle back around his neck, on the same chain he'd used for years.
How weird…and how familiar.
Yugi didn't even bother to say anything as he sat down on the couch in the living room above the shop; he just sat, held the puzzle in his hands, and Joey watched as the eye in the center of it started to glow.
The strange golden light seemed to slip out from its source and kind of…envelop its host, until Yugi's features were entirely obscured, encapsulated by it. It all happened in the span of a second or two, but it seemed to happen in slow motion. Joey thought for one absurd moment that his eyes were malfunctioning, like they were some kind of camera or something.
When the glow was gone, so was Yugi.
The figure currently seated on the Mutous' couch was no one Joey had ever seen before. When he pictured Yami, or Atemhotep as he'd been called originally, Joey always saw the guy standing tall and proud against the wind, some kind of modern knight or something, sword and shield poised to strike at evil.
The Yami in front of him was entirely at ease, lounging almost lazily as if he belonged there. And maybe he did. But Joey couldn't help but think: This ain't right.
Yami was looking at him, studying him, and a slow grin rose on his face.
Joey remembered that look, even though he'd never seen it on this particular face before. It was the look of a predator, the look of a man caught in the haze of raw, primal instinct.
Joey himself must look like this, he thought, just before a fight.
It was fucking creepy.
"Good afternoon, Joey," came the spirit's voice from Yugi's lips, smooth as liquid silk. "A true pleasure to see you again." Yami's wine-colored eyes were bright, almost visceral, and Joey found his muscles tightening. This wasn't right. Something was off. Something was seriously off.
"Uh…yeah. Sure thing, man. Been a while since I seen that thing 'round yer neck, there."
Yami lifted the puzzle and let it fall back against his chest. "Yes, I've not seen this particular artifact in some time. It surprises me to consider it." Somehow that sounded like a lie; for whatever reason, Joey felt like there wasn't a damn thing on earth that could surprise this guy. "It's also been unfortunately long since I've laid eyes on this place." He glanced around the room.
"Been about a year, I wanna say," Joey said, although now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember how long it'd been since Yami's disappearance any more than he could remember being born. It felt like a lifetime ago.
"Yes…" Yami sounded distracted.
And just plain…slick.
That was the only word that seemed to fit. His words were slick. His tongue was greased in oil. Everything he said had a smoothness to it, a fluid sound that made every word sound like a practiced lie.
Even the best politician couldn't match up to this, Joey mused.
"So Yugi was thinkin' you had something you had to do here," the blond offered after a while. The spirit looked at him blankly. "Anything we can do to help? Gotta save the world again? Keep evil at bay, save the girl, get the castle, all that?"
Yami raised an eyebrow. "Nothing quite so romantic, I'm afraid. No less vital, but the world is not at stake. Not this time. I am simply…paying a debt. I needed somewhere secure, somewhere defensible, and this was the first world I managed to unearth that would suffice."
"First…world? What're you, a fuckin' alien now?"
Yami shook his head, looking slightly irritated now. "Never mind. The complexities would be beyond you. Yes, I will require your help." He stood up. "However, at the moment I am still working through preliminary measures. When the ritual begins, I will require you."
"Ritual, huh?"
"Yes."
Joey was about to speak again when his phone rang. Frowning curiously, he fished the device out of his pocket and answered it. "Yo. 'S the wheelman. Talk to me."
"Wheeler."
"S'what they call me. What's up?"
"I have managed to uncover the mystery surrounding Kerns's ineptitude."
"And in English, that means you figured out why he's a douche."
"…Yes."
"So what's the mystery?"
"His mother lacks a brain, and his father lacks a spine."
"Switch 'em up, you got my family. So what, you met the dude's parents, then? Where? Trailer park? You sound more pissed off 'n usual."
"I would not call it a meeting so much as an infestation. It seems they blame Mokuba and me for…well, for all I know, they blame us for Global Warming. I'm beyond caring at this point. I simply called to say that you would do well to be on guard. With his parents enabling him, he'll be emboldened. He'll be stupid. And that means he'll be reckless."
"Got it. Thanks for the heads up. How'd the Moku-meister like 'em?"
Joey actually heard a chuckle in Kaiba's voice. "He was…magnificent. I'm sure he'll tell you the story when next you meet. Until then, watch for Kerns."
"Roger."
"Thank you."
He hung up, and Joey slipped his phone back into his pocket. Yami was watching him with something halfway between amusement and disbelief, tinged with a certain level of superstition. "Kaiba," Joey said. "Mokuba's been gettin' a bit o' heat from this…guy. Right? So Kaiba's got me 'n Tris kinda keepin' an eye on him."
For the first time, Yami looked like he was actually awake. His eyes narrowed, and he looked keenly interested. He said, "…And you accepted the order?"
"Order? Weren't an order. Guess it was kinda…unspoken, y'know?"
"So you are, without provocation, defending Mokuba Kaiba from…heat."
"Yeah. What? He's a buddy. S'whatcha do."
The more Yami heard, the more confused—and more intrigued—he seemed to get. His grin didn't look quite so creepy anymore. It looked manic, but not creepy. However that was possible. "This is…fascinating. You'll have to tell me about it later." It sounded much more like a command than a request. A feverish kind of command, like from a drug addict with a gun. "For now, I have certain…components I must collect."
"Components, huh?"
The spirit nodded. "A pleasure to see you again," he repeated, and edged past Joey toward the stairs. The blond turned to watch him go, and wondered if there was any conceivable way for this day to get any weirder.
