Last chapter, while a big reveal, didn't actually do much. This is something of a companion chapter to it. More of the specifics of what I've done, and what I plan to do, will come as the story unfolds. This one, I hope, will answer some questions.

Suffice it to say that this is the part of the story that I was most anxious to start, and to share with you.

This is where things start getting fun.


When Joey recovered his breath, and his vision returned, he turned to the front door of the Turtle Game Shop to see for himself the product of their ritual. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been anything human.

Definitely not a family.

The man and woman were each holding one hand of a six- or seven-year-old boy. The child had soft brunette hair and wide, intelligent blue eyes. He was somehow…delicate. Dressed in light khakis, brown loafers, a long-sleeved button-down shirt and a blue sweater vest, he looked every bit like a private school valedictorian. The sort of kid they picked to give a speech at graduation. Joey was reminded of Connor Brinkley.

The man, probably the kid's father, was dressed far less formally in jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt under a thin, faded jacket. His hair was slightly darker than his son's, shaggier, and his face sported a thin beard. His grey eyes were dull but determined. Joey was, oddly, reminded of himself.

The woman…

"…Holy fuck."

"Little ears, Joseph," Yami said, smirking.

Joey cleared his throat. "Uh…right. Sorry."

The woman was the kind of beautiful that never seemed real. Joey'd heard the sorts of metaphors people used in poetry to describe gorgeous women: hair like an ebony waterfall, porcelain skin, eyes like gemstones, a perfect figure…he'd never really understood what the hell any of that was supposed to mean.

He understood now.

She was dressed in jeans, like her husband, and a violet turtleneck sweater that matched the small stones set into her earrings; though her clothes had probably come from the same department store as her husband's, the way she carried herself more than made up for it. She looked like royalty, and some part of Joey thought stupidly that he recognized this woman.

But that was impossible.

"What…was that?" the man asked after a rather uncomfortable silence. He was staring at Yami. "You said to wait, to sit tight, that it wouldn't hurt. That's a boldfaced lie if I've ever heard one."

Yami chuckled. "My apologies, Kohaku-sama. I must admit that I have never been the receiving party of this particular magic. I trust, however, that you have recovered?"

"I guess, but…still. Jesus."

"Ko," the goddess intoned, "be polite. He's offered to help us. The least we can do is thank him properly." She bowed her head. "I apologize. Thank you very much for your help, Mister Mutou."

"You flatter me," Yami said, sounding honestly humble for the first time. "In all truth, Yuki-sama, all the practical help that I can provide for you at this moment has just been given. I am shamed to admit that my strength is sapped. However, I have brought you to a place where you will be able to secure…proper protection. That much, I can promise you."

Yuki.

So, her name was Yuki.

And her husband's name was Kohaku.

"Protection?" Tristan repeated from the floor. "These folks need protection? From what?"

"We'll get to that," Yami said. "Suffice it to say that they are…in a rough spot, and I have offered to assist them. A favor to an old friend, you might call it. Ah! My manners. I seem to have misplaced them." He bowed deeply, and gestured. "These are my friends, who have helped me to bring you here: Tristan Taylor, Joseph Wheeler, and Téa Gardner. Everyone, this is the Yagami family."

Joey lifted a limp hand and offered a half-wave, half-spasm. "Yo."

"…Good t' meetcha," Tristan muttered incoherently as he stumbled to his feet.

"A pleasure," Téa added, bowing.

The little boy returned the bow. "Thank you for helping us," he said, all prim and proper. Yuki smiled, and it sent an electric shock through Joey's mind. Kohaku, for his part, had a look on his face that Joey had seen on any number of proud fathers.

Fathers that were, inevitably, not his own, in other words.

Yami glanced over his shoulder. "And…if you will allow me…I introduce to you the key to your protection. Without my friends, here, to complete the ritual would have killed me. Without him, I never would have been able to start."

Joey blinked.

"This is Mokuba."

The black-haired boy's mouth hung open, working soundlessly for several seconds as he strained futilely to remember how to speak. Joey had seen a lot of emotions from both Kaiba brothers over the years: happiness, grief, anger, fear.

This was the first time he could remember ever seeing all of them at once.

"…What…w-what have you done…?"