Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! or Vampire Hunter D.
As I shouted into the void, no one heard my pleas. I have been sitting on 9k words since the beginning of this year for this chapter. I have been trying to get this thing out since the beginning of this year just like I promised. And then life took me by the hand, kicked my knees in, and shouted, "YOUR IRL SHIT NEEDS TO BE TAKEN CARE OF!"
So I apologize profusely for this long, long, wait...after I promised that I would try to get these chapters out in a timely manner. I hope you are still enjoying this. It's about to get really rocky from here. So let us all appreciate this respite.
Enjoy!
Chapter Thirty-One: Reprieve
An icy gust blasted through the undisturbed town, the wind blowing at dead grass and papers that eked from the crooks of abandoned medians. Unidentified birds squawked and tweeted their greetings in the distance, native to the land and having no interest in migrating. There was a strange yipping that followed a rather punctuated flare up of the birds' discussion, some canine having found some fascinating discovery, or treat; it was anyone's guess. The trees that surrounded the town stood strong, and as forever green as their name implied. Clouds spread themselves thin across the blue of the late morning, covering the sun here and there, but never so much that it could not sneak in some warmth. It was welcome, given that the icy chill of the early morning had failed to leave completely thanks to the breeze that would no doubt last throughout the day. In the northwest, the green haze of whatever radiated waste remained could be seen in the faintest of glows.
There was a peace felt by the town's inhabitants who could view these things, and, for that moment, hope that the incoming winter would not be as lonely or dismal as the last.
Weeks had gone by, with the weather waffling between frigid cold and a balmy climate. The snow that had threatened them before had not made a reappearance. This all apparently was normal; it was stranger to the citizens of this former bustling town when snow was even seen at this elevation. Of course, had anyone travelled along the road for even three miles longer, it would have been a different tale. Clumps of melting snow would have been the norm, for no severe storm had returned to bring forth the flurries of a white winter just yet.
It was a time of rest. D and Claire had never strayed too far from the hotel; the shock of their new neighbors had set them to making some more reserved choices in their wanderings. Bakura had been in a state of waffling between sleep and wakefulness for most of the duration. Whatever had pulled him into its grasps had only been made worse by his exertions. It was a surprise to all (and a great joy to the children) when the man was finally able to prop himself up and grasp the situation with lucidity.
During this first moment of returned clarity was where they finally heard the story of the human and vampire pair, and the demise of the once quaint historic town. It was a story that made the group more trusting of the pair, but also one that answered D's ever-nagging question at the back of his head.
Ewan Greylancer came from a rather respectable line of vampires. He was not the first, or only Greylancer, either. Nor was he much like the vampires D or Bakura had interacted with before; apparently Ewan was a bit of a blight on such a reputable line. He came from a family of vampire purists, although they were also quite dedicated to the likes of "The Great One". Apparently, Ewan's nephew had caught the eye of this "Great One" and was now slowly making his way up through the ranks. Ewan himself had only met the most famous vampire once, and D could only sigh in relief that it seemed he could hardly recall the encounter, aside from saying that he had been "an impressive, and frightening force".
What had made their new vampire ally, as it stood, such a blight? He originally was a troublemaker, and the trouble that he found took him far from his family's teachings. He would follow his own whims, and many times that would end in barfights that would inexplicably end in great grisly finishers. It was difficult to hide such vampiric strength from his more human acquaintances, nor had, he felt at the time, it been so easy to lie about his own strength. It seemed unfair to the young vampire. This apparently forced his parents to send him far from his home, to protect themselves and their reputation. This was where he truly began to stray from his family's path.
He had arrived in this new country when the Gold Rush had been at it's peak. As it was a challenge, and an amusing aside from his usual antics, he had participated in the fervor. He even participated in the founding of the town that the trio had stumbled upon. It was at that time that he fell in love. In love with a human. So great this affront was to his parents, that he had not spoken to them in decades. He had a cool relationship with his brother, who at least understood the concept of willingly offered blood was better than no blood at all. This was another point of contention, as Ewan was of the mindset of the minority of vampires, that blood should not be taken by force. To call it a minority was an overstatement at best.
In the end, the couple had one child. She was their light and life. Also, their first experience with a being they had little understanding for. As his connection with his family was the way it was, Catriona's birth was never brought up. He doubted any response he would have received would have been positive in nature, anyway. When Ewan's wife passed, as "humans were wont to do" as the vampire put it, Catriona and her father had her buried, and spent the next century befriending sympathetic humans, who had no interest in becoming a vampire themselves. It was difficult enough to maintain a healthy and ethical lifestyle as they had been as it was. Aside from these few, the two kept to themselves. As a result, the townsfolk simply found the family odd, and as families moved and died out, their position changed within the town. Sometimes the story was just that they were descendants of the founders of the town. Other times, they were recent additions, when those who had known them before had all died out and they happened to befriend a realtor.
They lived their life in relative peace, as the years had tempered Ewan's interest in brawls, and Catriona was a pacifist of sorts. It took some time, but eventually, Catriona fell in love with a rather dashing young man. One who expressed honest concern for her well-being and not for her appearance. A young nurse, who had just happened to be around when she had experienced a severe illness privy only to dhampirs. Thus began the relationship of Catriona and Samuel.
At the time, Claire listened, starry-eyed with the prospects of a family so tightknit, and D listened with hope, it was possible to live a normal life. Bakura listened impassively, whatever thoughts he had masked. Whether it was from the sickness, or his own concerns with where the story was going, was anyone's guess.
For years they were together. Samuel held many types of jobs over these years, each time to ensure that his wife would be able to have the assistance she needed. He was completely dedicated. He even made a friend in her father; the two apparently sharing many interests. It seemed as if it were a family made to last. Yet, it did not.
Samuel's family never had much cared for their elusive daughter-in-law, and even less for her father, who never made an appearance. Nevertheless, when the fire began two years before the trio's arrival (one year after Ewan had taken the necessary precautions to protect the town from any possible fallout; his brother had warned him of that), it had been Catriona who had gone to rescue his more stubborn family members. The stubborn ones who attempted to fight the fire.
She had gone to help; her husband not too far behind, warning her of the danger. Those taking part in attempting to fight would pay her no mind. She claimed it was absurd. Only fools would fail to listen to reason. She told him to go take her father to safety.
That day the absurd won out. The absurdity was that Catriona was naturally a pacifist, but when she came to their aid, they treated her as if she was coming at them with a chainsaw. Many ignored her pleas, others had shoved her away. Soon, the flames had engulfed them all, and Samuel, having returned from placing her father's coffin in a safe place, had watched in devastation as one-third of the city perished before his very eyes.
He had not believed that Catriona was among them, not until the next day, when she had not returned. Ewan had said to wait out the devastation that was the fire; that his former precautions and calculations would be enough to keep them and the remaining townspeople that had not fled safe. His daughter would have, with no doubt in his mind, survived.
And she had survived. She had survived long enough to tug out Samuel's mother from the devastation, before succumbing to a wound made from the fallen tree that she had protected the other from. It had gotten just enough of her heart.
Unfortunately, that was not the first memory his mother had had when she had come limping into his arms. She spat out a tale of how the hell spawn had bitten into her dying husband to gain enough sustenance to carry her out of the rubble. His mother was glad she was gone. Throughout the last moments of their shared life, for she left with the others who wanted to escape the bad memories, she wished it had been her husband that had been saved from the beast, rather than her own rescue from a falling tree.
Life after that just was not the same for either man.
They had lived their lives quietly, just as Ewan and Catriona had done before, as the remnants of the town slowly left. Many left because of the cold. Some left because of the strange chills they would get from wandering out, late at night. Fewer left to look for surviving family. There were remnants who left to find fortune and happiness elsewhere. And just like that, a once quaint, historical area became a ghost town.
"I'm fine," D insisted, wrapping his scarf around him in an attempt to hide his exasperation. Claire observed the scene in quiet amusement, putting on her shoes as Samuel offered a pair of sunglasses and gloves to the boy. Apparently, his wife had been one of a fragile constitution. Not so was the boy born to the "The Great One". Not that everyone knew that.
"Every day you go out there like that, you run the risk of passing out. And if you pass out and we aren't around to see you, then you'll be in a bad way. Just humor me," Samuel half-chided, half-pleaded. He extended the items again.
D sighed, aggravated, and took the gloves. He let the man keep the sunglasses. "I have a hat." His flat reply came through pursed lips.
"It's too big for you," Claire pointed out. Her sneer was as playful as it was obnoxious.
D shrugged. "I like it," he muttered under his breath, as he followed the two outside to begin their continued cleanup of the town.
It had been what Samuel did during the later parts of the day, although since the arrival of the three, the timeframe had changed. They also provided help where the man had sorely needed it. He had taken up on this task himself, with Ewan only there to help him at night. Begot from a very human need of survival, and a compassionate need to put the dead souls to rest, Samuel had begun this task a year ago after the last of the inhabitants had left. He had realized that no one had started the process; the remaining food had been so dispersed, the people so silent on their needs for help for fear of some strange demon tale (not everyone believed his mother, but there were enough that kept Samuel at arm's length). In the end, it fell to him.
His actions had been why the children had found nothing, only the remains of some poor souls that he promised that he would eventually get to. As they waited for Bakura to regain his strength, D had offered to assist, with Claire following him. If they were not learning about the general area in their own wanderings (which again, were never far considering the former circumstances) they were helping him. Today was one of those days. One of those days that D would find himself harassed, but only with the best intentions.
As the sounds of children talking, and an adult reproaching their behavior faded, Bakura leaned away from the window he was sitting near, closing his eyes on the scene. The young man was feeling better. Far better than the first night that they had experienced in the town. However, he could tell he had a long way to go if he wanted to be strong enough to protect the ones most dear to him.
He had listened to the tales so stoically not to be cruel, but to ensure that no one caught the helplessness that he had felt at the time. The tale was one steeped in truth; and one where he could smell the bitter end before it had even been foreshadowed to. Bakura wondered if the two were so friendly because they were lonely, and how long the trio would be able to keep the truth of D's parentage from the vampire. The boy did not have to tell him that he recognized the last name of the vampire for him to know that this "Great One" was D's father, and that this vampire's family had dealings with him. Bakura was certain if the other found out the truth that his loyalty to his kind would take precedence over the boy's wishes. Ewan had already scolded him for his poor parenting prior, and Bakura had little doubt that the vampire would not take kindly to the thought of kidnapping a child. The more Bakura thought on it, the more he saw it for what it was. Not that he would not have done it again.
All this meant that Bakura was going to have to become better than what he was. Of course, he was still human. His newfound powers certainly helped, but he could not rely on them all the time…if his dream's cautions were to be followed. Those powers were something that Samuel and Ewan were interested in, though. He could not blame them. It had been the same awe, confusion, and inquisitiveness that he had been filled with when he had finally been made aware of the strange power within The Ring. At least, he had been filled with this when his friends' lives had not been in immediate danger.
Stretching his arms above his head, he clung to his resolve as he stood, his legs still feeling weak after the sickness had passed. They would get no better if he did not move, but he marveled that he had been able to at the time of the two groups' meeting. Adrenaline was a strange thing.
He spent most of the day regaining his strength in ways he knew how, trying to limber himself up. Debating on how long they should stay before moving on. Lamenting when he knew it would be safer to stick around, at least for now.
"What point would there be to run around in the snow?" he asked himself aloud. No one was there to hear him, or respond. He could argue with himself in peace. "Possibly die of hypothermia. How helpful would you be then, you dumbass?" Carefully, he made his way downstairs. Sunlight filtered through the front windows when he reached the final step; the clouds had parted once again.
"Look at yourself. You're barely out of bed from being injured, hardly know how to fight without getting maimed or someone killed…just stop…stop while you're ahead."
He found himself standing in front of a rather ornate coffin in what was once the dining room. The curtains had all been drawn, and in the dim, it could be imagined that it was night. Placing his hand on the rich wood, his palm feeling the slick varnish, he contemplated his reason for being there. Given the circumstances, he knew there was nothing he could do at present. Taking in a deep breath and collecting himself, he rapped thrice on the wood.
There was little point in talking to oneself when there was nothing of substance to be found.
Bakura sat upon the coffin, using his weight as a warning that it was not yet time to climb out, but he waited for the other to speak before voicing his purpose.
"Why do you wake me?" a sleepy voice questioned from within. It was muffled from the layer of wood and fabric between them, so Bakura placed his ear upon the coffin to hear him better. He lay there on top, partially worried that it might be too much weight for it. Nothing seemed amiss, however.
"I would like your help," Bakura said. "There's a lot that I don't know, about what I need to do for D, about defending others…Everything I've ever done I feel has been through luck and theory. Nothing has ever prepared me for doing what I'm doing, or what the world has become."
"I don't think anyone could have been fully prepared for what happened."
"You all seem to be doing fine for what's going on."
The vampire chuckled from within the coffin.
Bakura paused. "Forgive me, I suppose there are different things that people are lacking in this world."
"Oh, don't apologize, boy," Ewan said. "I know you didn't mean anything by it. If I've gleaned enough from what Samuel has told me that the children have told him, you weren't exactly in a position to be raising any children."
The young man froze. He hoped it did not create any suspicions within the man, but it could not be helped. "What have they told him?"
"What a question."
"I'm just curious."
"Ah," the vampire beneath him replied, and he could almost hear the smile that was undoubtedly on his lips. "They have told us that you were a friend of D's mother, that through circumstances too difficult for the boy to express, his mother died due to his father's failings, and you obtained custody before the world changed. I'll choose to assume that this is true, as how else was the boy unaware that there were safe places created for his kind…well, half of his kind."
"So, you all knew?"
"Sort of. Based on our observations of humanity, specifically the observations by The Great One, it was presumed that they would be their own ruin. Then our kind could flourish in a way it had not ever before. As nice as that all is, I have grown rather fond of humans, so I'm a bit sad that it all turned out this way."
"You can say that again."
"Although, I admit ignorance to your particular skillset," Ewan added, tapping at the area just above Bakura's head. It seemed the being below could sense him. Bakura wondered what other things the vampire could do that he had no concept of. Would he be able to teach D any useful skills? "When did you first notice your ability to project yourself, or whatever being that was? Were you a scientist?"
Bakura could not help but laugh. It was weak, but there. "Hardly. My highest schooling was high school."
"Perhaps a mutation? Did you never notice it until after the destruction?"
He wondered if lying would be the best method at this point, to keep things simple, but decided that the truth would present no harm. "No, I noticed it once my friends back home also noticed some strange things. It's because of something sort of hard to explain."
"How so?"
"Well," Bakura considered how to explain it, and could find no logical way, "it was magic?"
"Magic?" Again, laughter filled the coffin. "Based on the studies my kind has made, all 'magic' is just a form of unexplained science. Dimensional rifts and whatnot."
Bakura shrugged, forgetting the vampire could not see him. "Well, us humans don't have any better explanation right now. Not when there are gods warring because of human greed and sacrifice."
"You didn't strike me the religious sort. Only sentimental."
Bakura blinked. "Sentimental?"
"When you were ill, you kept calling out a name. Amane, was it? D said it was your sister's name."
"Yes…Claire's mother." Bakura bit his lip, hoping the pounding of his heart would not be a tell.
"Huh," the vampire vocalized, his surprise unhidden.
'Damn,' Bakura thought, worrying.
"That's what the girl said, too."
Bakura could have burst with pride for the children's apparent prowess in survival, and amazement at their abilities in inference. He would have expected it from D, but that Claire would be able to deny her own mother's name to make their story more plausible? Yet, he could not let that show to the vampire in any way (for that one's perception was far greater than a human's) so he countered with something he felt could have been asked of himself.
"You didn't trust my answer?"
A good-natured laugh erupted from within. "I'm sorry. I suppose that it comes with age. And fear of the overtly religious."
"Oh, I'm not really religious…" Bakura said, feeling calmer now that it seemed they were no longer measuring each other's capabilities.
"You did talk about gods, though."
"It's kind of hard not to believe in something like ghosts, spirits, and the supernatural when I've been possessed by a spirit from ancient times bent on a revenge he couldn't remember."
"Excuse me?" Ewan asked with a snort.
"I know, I know! It sounds bad, and I have nothing but the skill I have just figured out that I have to prove it. I mean, it's not completely far off from imagining there are immortal beings that only need blood to survive?"
"There's some science behind it!"
"Yeah, then why don't any of you like garlic?"
The coffin was silent for a time. Bakura wondered if he offended him. Then a chuckle came forth, and the young man smiled, relieved.
"You got me there. But no doubt, science will one day provide answers."
"I can't disagree," Bakura said.
There was a brief silence that came after. Bakura could see the light ever so slowly creeping through the cracks of the door, emanating from the windows in other rooms. Day was moving on. With it, another day where he sat useless in this hotel. About a minute after he thought this, the vampire spoke.
"So, you want my help with better preparing yourself for this world…I assume one day you are going to move on?"
"Probably."
"Any reason as to why?"
"We all agreed we wanted to see the world." It was not a lie…entirely. Claire did not know of the promise that Bakura and D had made during their stay in the beach town, but once again his mind would provide no better response.
"Guess I can't blame you, although it's going to be far more dangerous than it was when I was running about in my youth."
"I'm sure it was more dangerous for you, for what you are."
"Only if I let people catch on to what I was," Ewan replied with a snicker. He paused before tapping where Bakura's shoulder was. The young man felt the vibrations, and wondered what he had meant by it. He did not need to wait long to find the answer. "Fine then, if you are going to be as capricious as your niece, then I need to at least prepare you to defend yourself, and them of course, from the world that will soon be upon us. You'll need to be prepared for anything, but don't be alarmed if the world changes rather drastically."
"You mean it hasn't?"
That brought forth another muffled bit of laughter. "If our dawning is near, then it barely has scratched the surface. I can only imagine what hundreds of years of pent up knowledge is going to do for this world. I'm sure some has been put in place already, although I am not privy to where. Although, I think it is rather telling based on the phrase roaming about our people, titles and whatnot, that whatever it is that we will create will be awesome."
"Phrase?"
"Oh, apparently we are all Nobility."
Later that day, Samuel brought home D and a rather bored looking-Claire from their excursions. The sun was setting, with only thirty more minutes until Ewan could walk amongst them. Bakura had returned to the room he shared with the two children (as they refused to be parted at this point) for the vampire had nothing more to offer at the time other than reminding him that he needed to regain his strength. Thus, the young man had returned, silently waiting for the other's return. He had not been sure what else to do.
D sat beside Bakura as Samuel checked on his wound, which had finally healed to just a sore point with a scar as a reminder. No words were necessary to express this strange occurrence, but it, along with Bakura's improving health, was a welcome sign. Claire perched upon D's shoulder, rocking him back and forth as they waited for Samuel's diagnosis. He had been a nurse, after all, and even if he had to quit after a time based on his wife's needs, he had retained most of what he had learned. What he had forgotten was coming back to him as time went on as well.
"Seems to be getting better by the day!" Samuel said, giving Bakura a gentle pat on the arm. "You'll finally be able to move around. Maybe help us out to stretch your legs!"
"That would be nice," Bakura sighed. "Thank you again, for all of this."
"It's nice to have some more company."
"You've been taking care of us all, though. That's more than just company."
"It's not like you guys are ungrateful, or unhelpful. Your kiddos are such sweethearts. I'm sorry I ever doubted you."
"Or that we met in the way we did," Bakura added. "I'm sure that that didn't help with the trust."
"'Rather meet you that way than no way."
"This is nice and allll…" Claire interrupted, and D stared at her pointedly from his position. His fingers fussed with the edge of his hat, the only indication of his opinion of what she was to bring up. "But can we ask him now? You just said he feels better."
"Ask who?" Bakura asked.
"You."
Bakura shrugged and motioned as if now would be the best time.
Claire's face cracked into a smile. "Okay, so…Mr. Samsaidthatheknowshowtoshootandhecanteachmetoshootbettersocanwelearnhowtoshootfromhim?"
"…Excuse me?"
That set Samuel to cackling. "Slow your roll kiddo."
"Can Mr. Sam teach us how to shoot better? He says he has before and y'know…even I could maybe kinda sorta get better."
"If you don't agree, we'd understand," D said quietly. His eyes were set on a slight fray that was on one portion of the edge. His thumb ran across it.
"Personally, I think it's a grand idea. Though, I would add, I think the boy should also take some 'classes' from me," Ewan interjected, strolling into the room. It seemed that night had finally fallen.
D looked up from his fidgeting in shock, and his shock only grew when Bakura spoke.
"I agree. We all could be better prepared for what's going on out there. So long as you all don't mind…"
"I know I wouldn't have offered if I did," Ewan chuckled, casually sliding into one of the chairs with an ease only one of his kind could.
"My dad loved hunting," Samuel added. "We used to go out quite a bit, even after all of this. Would be nice to eat something not out of a can."
"It's a pity that the garden we have isn't of much use right now."
"We got some of the stuff canned ourselves though, so it's probably fresher than the cans from the store."
"Probably?" The vampire inquired. Claire burst into laughter.
"Whatever, my man. Anyway," Samuel clapped his hands together, a giant grin on his face. "Let's celebrate all of this good news!"
It seemed as if celebrating was the perfect way to raise any unsure spirits. They celebrated their newfound friendships, Bakura's recovery, the upcoming 'classes', and the fact that the weather was keeping the worst from them. During this time, Samuel pulled out a pack of cards, and D and Bakura turned to him shocked. The man gave them both a strange look when placed them on the table. It was just a regular pack of cards, with kings and queens, jacks and aces. Something about that made even the most stoic part of D lighten, and he covered his mouth, giggling. Which got Bakura laughing. Which confused everyone else.
"It's nothing," Bakura replied, waving his hand at them all as they set up for a game of poker. "Just an inside joke."
"Thought it was something else," D added, agreeing.
They did not want to waste time discussing things of that past nature, so both urged Ewan and Samuel to teach them how to play. That night was something that all within this assemblage needed. Just one of joy and entertainment.
A few nights later, the wind chill was far lower than expected for any of the town's inhabitants. Distant cloud cover made clear that snow was an occurrence somewhere, as did a scent that the lone boy recognized as he stood amongst the trees of the nearby forest. If he focused, he could hear all that was around him—from the sleeping bird in the nest above him, to the far-off snort of some wild animal. One day he would be able to use just that to decipher what the beast was. That was what he was working on, now.
All of the adults found it important that the children learn just as they would have in the world before, and thus had set up a schedule of sorts for D and Claire. Much to her chagrin, Claire spent most of her time 'catching up', from the history of the world as it had been, to math more difficult than what was one plus one. No one blamed her, most of the lessons previously taught to her had been practical, but everyone wanted the children to be ready for anything when the time came. That included learning about more "menial" things, as Claire liked to put it, once she learned what the word meant. She had learned it when Ewan had been attempting to explain something else that she found "menial" and at that time had used the word. She was clever, of course, which thankfully meant she was a fast learner. Until she was bored.
D on the other hand, excelled. Samuel was at a loss at what to teach him, as he had taken on the role of their teacher when Bakura was not around. From time to time within those few days, Bakura had needed to part with his brood in order to fulfil something that Ewan asked him to do. He had yet to tell the children he was also learning, but they were usually too busy to notice or care. As such, Samuel had also been left unaware at how theoretically prepared the boy was studies-wise. Thus, the elder man had dug around his own home for college textbooks, and this array of texts finally gave the boy pause. D loved learning from what these great tomes (to him) held within. It took only a day for the same curiosity that consumed his father to manifest itself in him. Samuel suddenly found himself amongst two chatty children: one persistent in getting out of doing work, and one who could not help himself but asking every question he could about anatomy, and chemical compounds. The only time everyone seemed on the same page ability-wise was during shooting practice, and even then, the boy could hold a steadier aim once he got the hang of it. And was getting better, faster. One could only assume what the others thought of this.
D also had another class, late into the night. One that Ewan personally taught. It was this class he was participating in now. A class that would hone the abilities that no one else would question as to whether or not he could perform. This time, he would be a willing participant, one that was aware of what was being asked of him.
A faint whisper of wind alerted him to something unnatural around him. He spun on his right foot and made to block, unsure of how much pressure the vampire would apply. He should have steadied his footing. His feet dug into the earth as he attempted, but a hidden root slid under the ball of his foot, and he fell back with the full brunt of the attack. He fell onto his behind and tried clambering to his feet, but was lifted from the collar of his turtleneck, just as a kitten by a mother cat.
"Nice attempt," Ewan said, cheerful enough. He planted the boy back onto his feet before turning around to nudge at the root that had fouled the boy's stance. "Considering this is the first day we are attempting something like this, and that you probably have not been practicing anything related to agility…not bad. There's room for much improvement, though." He chuckled. "It's nice to see that you are a child at heart still. You probably shouldn't be learning these things so soon, anyway."
"I don't have much choice," D replied, embarrassed that he had been caught off-guard. It seemed that that need to be better, to do better, that his father had instilled in him would not go away any time soon. "None of them can do what I can. I need to be helpful."
"Well don't get so wrapped up that you lose that human side, D."
D eyed him from his position. He was unused to vampires who viewed humans as something more than food. Slowly, he was beginning to realize his father had a mindset closer to the vampire before him, but even then…what his father did to further his own beliefs…
"Stop that moping, you just took a tumble."
"Not moping," D muttered, readying himself again. "Just thinking."
"You look sad when you think, it would seem." The vampire grinned. His fangs glinted in the moonlight. "Try again."
The boy nodded, and repositioned himself. Until he was able to grasp the concept of evading, Ewan did not wish to teach him anything further. He would have to excel, just as his father had wished, apparently. If only to protect those he cared about from the monsters his father had surrounded him with.
Needless to say, that night ended in frustration for the boy, as time and time again he was caught unaware, unprepared, unready. It smacked of the moment where the ocean had bested him in Domino, which was something D did not want to accept. Ewan laughed at the boy's expression and patted his shoulder.
"In time, you'll get it. You have a knack for it, I can see. Much more than my girl did, as it were."
"Oh?" D could not help but be curious even when agitated.
"She was very talented," the man sighed, a nostalgic look on his face. "But not entirely perceptive."
"Did she have to be?"
"Nope. Not at least like you have to be. But that's neither here nor there. I know why I'm teaching you these things, but don't be afraid to still participate in childlike things while you can."
"Why are you teaching me?"
"Because if you want to learn something, you need to learn if from someone who can do it. Theory is fine, but…you are a practical boy, you'd say, yes?"
D shrugged. "I suppose."
"Well then, you need some practical instruction then! That's why. Now run to bed. You need your rest."
D nodded, walking away with sore pride, and for once, sore muscles. While he was walking back, he noted that Ewan had remained behind. The boy tugged at his left sleeve, feeling safe enough to hold at least a telepathic conversation.
'What do you think?' D asked.
'You really want my opinion?'
The boy rolled his eyes. 'Would I have asked?'
'He's treating you for what you are?'
'Could we trust him with the knowledge of you?'
'What do you think?'
'No. His name is something important. I don't know if he knows who I am, or that I am his son. I don't want him knowing anything more than he has to, no matter how kind he seems.'
'One of your smarter choices.'
The boy stopped walking. His lips threatened a small smile. 'That almost sounded like a compliment.'
'Is it so surprising that you had to stop moving?'
'I just thought I was getting somewhere with you…'
'Kid, I don't know how to explain it to you. I know what you think of me. I know how you feel. I know what's going on with you physically. All that shit.'
'What does that have to do with anything?'
'I don't have to be considered a parasite, you idiot. I help you, you help me. You've known that for a while. So why don't we work together like that? In some symbiotic way?'
'Because you're a jerk.'
'I'm not changing any time soon. I can help you, though. We can see what I can do, together.'
D nudged a rock from the dirt with his foot. Ewan still seemed to be working on something where they had once been practicing, meaning their conversation would not be interrupted any time soon. The idea was not inherently terrible. It was what his father had wanted, but they had never gotten along. Was there ever going to be a chance that they did? His lips trembled as he tried to control himself. Perhaps they were meant to forever antagonize one another.
"Would you say that you are lending a hand?" he asked, aloud. His tone was indifferent; he seemed to be more interested in the mud that had gotten stuck to his boot after kicking the rock.
'Yeah, I guess, I mean—wait. What?'
"I mean…I guess you are pretty handy to have around," D said, yawning. It was early morning. An afterthought of that he needed to sleep popped into his mind. "You haven't told me exactly what you can do…I know a little, but I guess I'll eventually get a handle on it."
"Are you shitting me right now?" His left hand asked, unable to keep the discussion internal any longer.
"What do you mean?" D inquired as he began his trek home again. The look on his face expressed the same apathy as his voice carried. "Anyway, I suppose I have to hand it to you. You were the first of us to really offer a hand in—"
"Stop it. Just stop. It's so bad, kid."
"Whatever do you mean? What's bad?" He used his right hand to open the door that led into the hotel. A light was on in the lower section. Bakura was up early, it seemed. Very early.
"You know full well what you are doing."
"No?"
"Don't gimme that bullshit. You know what you're doing."
As dead-serious as he could say it, D sighed and replied, "I don't know why you're making me out to be a handful."
"I hate you," it spat, although there was no malice in its voice.
"Feeling's mutual, I guess," D said, "but I think that you'd be the one who'd be better at feeling things."
"You know, the fact you can say all of this with a straight face just proves to me that you are dead inside."
"You know it." The boy cracked a grin that widened as he saw Bakura sitting at one of the tables with a cup of coffee in his hands. The boy knew the man preferred tea, but whatever was keeping him awake at this hour probably was not enough. Every bit of caffeine would help in that case. "What are you doing up so early?" D could not help but question.
"I was planning on helping Ewan with what he's building out there," Bakura said, resting his cup on it's coaster to go and give the boy a hug. "You're freezing," he noted.
"Building?" D asked, ignoring the man's observation.
"We are all going to need to become better at survival skills at some point, D-kun. Part of it will help you, which is why I can't tell you about it. It's supposed to be a surprise. Some of it is for Claire. Some of it's for me."
"You? But you can know?" D paused. "Wait, you're training?"
"Am I not supposed to train?" The young man smiled and nudged the boy toward the stairs. "Now get some rest, D-kun. I heard that Samuel has quite the lesson planned for you later on today."
"Bakura-sama…" D gripped the man's hand before budging up even a step. "Don't push yourself too hard."
"You too," Bakura said. He pressed D's face to his chest in a hug once again and kissed the top of his head. The boy's eyes widened, unused to such a display, even from Bakura. Closing his eyes, he hugged the man harder. The last time he remembered anything such as this, it had been his mother holding him tightly. He could not remember why.
"I'm going to be fine," D said, his voice muffled. "You might not be."
"Only time will tell," Bakura replied and he released D from his grasp. "Now go to bed."
Five minutes after this conversation, Ewan watched as Bakura jogged over to him with a nervous look on his face. The vampire greeted him with a nod of the head. Bakura returned it.
"I'm sorry for making you do this so late."
"It's fine. Please stop apologizing. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want to."
"Sorry," Bakura said, before recognizing what he said.
Ewan laughed and pointed to a stack of chopped logs. "We'll start off slow today since you are still recuperating internally. You said you wanted to eventually be taught enough to go up against someone like me if you had to. I can't promise that—but as I see how the world is changing, and you seem the type to act peacefully when not under stress…I'll try."
Bakura nodded. "You want me to carry them?"
"Yes. Try carrying as many as you can. The boy and I have much to work on; I wouldn't say he's behind by any measure, but he has potential to be at a far greater point than what he's at right now."
"Meaning?" Bakura asked as he lifted what he could into his arms. The bark pressed against the sleeves on his arm, digging uncomfortably into his skin. He walked to where the vampire pointed, placing them in a strange pattern as he was silently instructed.
"Meaning his perception is sufficient for his age," Ewan stated, continuing to point out the pattern to Bakura as he gathered a new stack. "But his reaction time is a little off. I've also assessed what Samuel has been giving him, as I know you have. He seems to be excelling academically. All in all, he is doing very well. Yet…"
"Yet…" Bakura grunted, attempting to lift more weight than the last time.
Ewan stroked his chin in thought as he watched the logs be placed. His eyes watched Bakura's movements, assessing. "It's odd," he replied. "When comparing where he's at, to where my daughter was at his age…you said he was around 10, yes?"
"Yeah," Bakura said, his muscles straining under the pressure. He had to get better. Had to be careful, but even the young man knew a normal strength would mean absolutely nothing against the foe that he had in mind. "He's never said specifically what day, but I planned on throwing him some sort of party…in some way…before the year ended."
Laughing, Ewan went over to him and stacked one more piece of wood on top of what he was already carrying. Bakura's posture began to fail as he attempted to regain his balance. "Such a funny thing to focus on, but I commend you. You try so hard to make his life seem normal. At any rate, he's no normal boy." Another piece was placed atop the pile, and Bakura had to pause what he was doing in order to steady himself again. "Whoever his father was, whether you knew him or not…must have been powerful."
"Don't…Sell yourself…short," Bakura strained, not understanding the man's reasoning. He could barely move.
"I know I come from a prestigious line. A black sheep that continues to mar their perfect image of what Nobility is to look like. However, they might want to rethink that ideology if they are to keep in good graces with The Great One. Last I recalled, he found humanity to be quite impressive."
"Does he now?"
"Yes. I'm not one to expound on his theories; he's the only one capable of that. But I must say, from his teachings, I feel he has the right of it. I have had numerous allies in humans, and to sell them short of what they are is a big mistake. Certainly, we are strong, and far more capable of many things. But humans survive. Resilient, even now at the threat of extinction…"
"What's this have to do with D?"
"He's far beyond what I taught my girl already. I can see that even without running him through all of the physical tests I would usually need to. If he takes that overwhelming natural strength he inherited from his father, and the resilient nature of his mother…and of you," he paused once again to place another two pieces of wood on top of the stack Bakura could only hold now, no longer carry. "He could be the pinnacle of a perfect individual."
Bakura could not speak. Somehow each log felt twice as heavy now, and the whole stack was something he could barely hold. His arms shook with the stress of such mass, as did his legs. Still he stood.
"You have quite the weight on your shoulders," Ewan noted, tapping each side of him as he circled around the young man. "And I remember the look you gave me the first night we met. Even as you smelled of death. Unflinching, but not inherently cruel." He chuckled at Bakura's questioning gaze. "You'll do fine in teaching him the morals someone such as himself will need to learn. You don't need me for that."
"What you need me for is something only the stupid or the most ingenious of your kind would ever ask for. A chance against one of my kind, if it came to blows. If ever there was a human who could hold against one of my own, you could perhaps be one of the few to do it. Not yet, of course. You can barely stand as it stands right now. But perhaps, in time. Naturally, I'd be cautious to teach someone who'd go hunting my kind, but you don't seem the type…"
"You seem to be running from something."
"Running?" Bakura gasped, still holding the weight, but unable to do anything else with it. How much did this vampire know? His mind raced with the possibilities that he had been fooled after all.
"Yes. Running. I'm not going to ask why, so whatever you're thinking you can stop with it. The boy seems earnest enough, and he's happy with you. I can gather, based on the history you all have provided, mother being dead and your concerns with," he motioned to Bakura's form, "you know, that there's a good reason for you all to be doing what you're doing."
"Not to mention I've always been more of a brawler than a philosopher. Usually provides I need less answers and have less questions."
'Thank whatever gods are out there for that,' Bakura thought, before finally buckling under the weight of the logs. They spilled before him, a mess; but his arms were so grateful to be free of them, he could hardly muster a care. That set Ewan laughing. Bakura flopped onto the ground, feeling exhausted already.
There was little time left before Ewan had to leave for the day, so after a short rest, the both began setting up a course that all of the future students would use. Ewan felt that even Claire needed a taste of what could be, and he instructed Bakura to practice shooting with Samuel when he could. He noted that based on his observations today, he could tell that Bakura's aim was off. No gun was necessary to tell him that, just the way the stacking of the logs had gone.
"I like your idea, though." Ewan stated as they walked back toward the hotel. The dawn was just on the horizon. Soon it would be dangerous for him to be outside.
"What idea?"
"Throw a party. Or celebrate in some way. A real celebration. For the both of them."
Bakura's face lit up. "You think so?"
"Yes. And I think that I know of some nearby fun that you all could participate in before it culminates here, perhaps with a cake."
"I wish you could join in."
Ewan paused in his step before turning to Bakura. A pleased expression spread across his face. "I appreciate the thought. Perhaps…I could bake the cake and we could make a surprise out of that. A dinner with cake is always nice. And as I'm probably the only one who could bake one without a working oven…"
"We'd need to keep them away for a while…"
"That's where the nearby fun comes into play."
"Where are we going?" Claire asked. It was the fifth time she had asked within fifteen minutes.
"It's a surprise!" Samuel replied, his tone still cheerful, but it was obvious that eventually it would turn. "Don't you want to be surprised?"
"It's cold," she pointed out with a gloved finger. "And you've got us all bundled up. I hate the cold. It's cold."
And it was a fact that they were all bundled within winter clothing. D walked beside Bakura, watching Claire and Samuel's interaction with interest. He thought he had an idea of what was going to occur, and if it was so, he could feel excitement bubbling. The last time they had seen it had been at a dire time after all. But this time…
"And the amount it might be?" he whispered to himself.
"Hm?" Bakura looked down at him, and D shrugged. It did not matter. The walk was cold but refreshing as well. Regardless of where they were going, it was just nice to spend time with people he cared about and not have to worry about running away.
"Do you have an idea of where we're going?" Claire questioned accusingly. She shuffled up to the boy, her nose pink with the chill. She poked her finger at him, jabbing his arm, trying to get him to explain. The boy shrugged, too much in a good mood to be irritated.
"It's a surprise," the boy replied, his voice cool even against the heat in hers. Internally, he was loving every minute of her frustrated expression.
"Oooh, I hate you sometimes," the girl pouted, folding her arms in a huff. She was surprised when D snorted in laughter.
The first remnants of snow showed about a mile away. Claire, for all her grumblings, was excited to see the small scatterings of icy stuff caught in the brush. D paused here and there to poke at the larger mounds, a small smile playing on his lips. Samuel and Bakura glanced at each other, both pleased with the reactions the children were having thus far.
The adults were not expecting the emotional responses the two had when they were presented with the forests filled with high piles of clean knolls of snow. A shriek indistinguishable of joy or agony filled the air, and Claire went bolting into the stuff. D stopped, surveying the area, with a serene look on his face. His eyes glittered with tears.
"I never thought that it would look like this," the boy whispered in awe. D had of course seen snow before, but never to this amount. The group was surrounded by trees; the unplowed road gradually fluffing up with untouched snow. It was as if a hush had come across them, even with Claire's bellowing. Green needles poked through the white blanket that the forest donned. It was a beautiful sight, even as the clouds shifted heavier and darker above them.
This peace that the boy felt, the safety of a place they could all turn to if they wished, more than the sight itself, was what brought forth the tears that left tracks on his face. Bakura would have been worried, but the expression of complete joy that the boy wore was enough to tell him all was well. Soon, D joined Claire in her revelry, and they were doing things as neither child had done before. Half-formed snowballs were flung, snowmen were created, and mounds of snow were partially slid, partially rolled, down. Somehow what was to have become another snowman became a gigantic ball of snow that the children continued to push around, making ever larger, as the adults watched and goaded them on.
"It's so good to see them smiling," Bakura said, watching the two at play. Claire attempted to shove ice down the back of D's coat, but the boy dodged gracefully, pushing their collective efforts away from her.
"To be fair, it's good to see you smiling, too!" Samuel said. "You have such a serious look on your face most of the time. I'm sure you have had your reasons for that, though."
"No kidding."
"It sucks that these kids don't get to live in the world we did, but they seem the type to roll with that. Two smart cookies, those two are." Samuel folded his arms against the cold. "We should remind them from time to time, like this, that there's a lot of fun left in the world, though."
Bakura nodded. "I agree."
They eventually had to return home, lest the frostbite take hold of their fingers. Claire, who had complained of chill before coming across the snow, was reluctant to leave. Only when D offered to give her a piggyback ride did she relent. He hefted her up with hardly any effort, and trotted a little ahead of the adults, with Claire cheering him on to go faster from her perch.
They made it back into town as the light left the sky but did not return immediately to the hotel. Samuel veered them off-course, where they warmed themselves by a fire of their own creation, before entering a rather large wooden building. When D and Bakura entered, memories of drenched clothing and old music came to their minds. Without talking, they looked at each other and knew they were thinking of the same place. D tugged his hat away from his eyes, wondering what interesting new items he would find, in this store of timeworn objects.
The old boards creaked below their feet, reminding all of the age of the building. Of the town, really. It appeared that this store had been abandoned entirely. Everything still seemed to be in place, with a fine coating of dust spread among the items within. The smell of musty clothes and slowly rotting wood made Bakura concerned for the children who had run upstairs to see the paintings that had been displayed. Samuel saw the expression he had and patted him on the back. "S'fine," he stated, "It's been like this since I remember. It's got a few more years in it before anything collapses."
Bakura's shoulders relaxed at his assurance, and he began to search among the things. He hoped he would be able to find something of use, or of interest, amongst the clutter.
"Woah!" Came the shout of excited surprise. Claire bolted to the railing and motioned for the two below to come up. "You gotta see this! It's so cool!"
Bakura chuckled and placed the rather fancy plate that he had spotted back on its placeholder. Samuel followed behind him, keeping his eye on the light of the fire that was just outside the building. It seemed he was using it as a timer of sorts. Claire impatiently grabbed his hand and tugged him to where D was standing on the tips of his toes, unlocking an imposing display case.
Inside was a display of knives and swords. Most of them held a blandness to them; replications that only those mildly interested in collecting would be interested in. Others had the sheen of something worthwhile, and Bakura hoped that they had been, for the price presented certainly assumed that they did. Not that price mattered anymore. The boy turned and pointed up to some sheathed items, a curious look on his face.
Bakura's eyes followed the boy's gaze and noted the items that would have caught the eye of any child his age. At least before all of this. Now there was a practical sense to looking at the long knives and swords on display. Some had elaborate hilts, mostly for show, while others might have been collected for their craftsmanship. In the middle of swords that looked perfect for some great medieval battle (albeit crafted for appearance rather than functionality) was something more familiar to him. A katana was placed lovingly in the middle of the display, an exorbitant amount written on the placard next to it. Right above it was a wakizashi, and Bakura blinked, eyeing the weapons and then shifting back to the price. He pulled the wakizashi from its place and pulled it from it's sheath. From the amount being asked, to the beautiful appearance, even after all this time, it seemed to be the real deal. A little something from home.
But the boy's eyes were not on the blade in his hand, but the katana still resting on its perch. Bakura sheathed the wakizashi, and carefully handed the longer blade to the boy. Were it any other child, he might have reconsidered, but he felt that D was cautious enough to hold it. Claire watched excitedly and with no envy in her eyes as D pulled it out, holding it in front of him. It was
"It's lucky that it's not rusted," Bakura noted, watching the fascination grow across the boy's visage. "I don't know much about swords, but I do remember that these are supposed to need good upkeep."
"It's still cool looking," Claire offered, and D nodded.
It was obvious the blade was too large for him to wield, but he still seemed enamored with the elegant blade. There was no question as to what his expression inquired of Bakura. Bakura stood in thought for a bit, considering the options. Eventually he motioned for the boy to keep it. Who knew when it would come in handy?
"Good!" Claire exclaimed after D sheathed the blade and hugged it close. "Now you can get better at that and leave the shooting to me!"
"I just think it's pretty," D replied, his joy dissipating for just an instant to offer her a frown of disapproval. His grasp was tight around his new treasure. Even though his own logical thought knew what its purpose was, he could not help but see it as just something to admire. Just because he could kill did not mean he thirsted for other ways to do so at present. He, of all people, knew the ramifications of a loss of life.
"Uh huh," Claire snorted. "Well, a cowboy with a sword is pretty cool."
"Cowboy?"
"Isn't that why you always wear that hat? You want to be a cowboy, right? That's why we gave Bakura that hat…to match you, right?"
Bakura burst out into laughter, much to the surprise of the others. He could not explain why, but something about that just seemed so amusing, so sweet in its way.
They returned home after this, Claire finding nothing to her liking, but not too disappointed in the results. It seemed if D could be shooed away from something she was proficient at, it surpassed anything of interest that she could have found. Samuel found a picture that he wanted to hang in the hotel, and Bakura did take the decorative plates. It just seemed like something nice to have, for a time.
When the door opened, D knew there was something sweet and pastry-like that had just been made based on a singular warm waft of air that greeted them. Claire's nose caught a scent apparently familiar to her as well, and her eyes widened in revelation. They both turned to the adults behind them, who turned to each other with knowing smiles.
Ewan came from around the corner with a well-designed cake, and it was the most absurd thing D had seen in some time. This vampire, beaming as if he were in some picture in the dictionary depicting a birthday party, holding up such a rarity even for humans nowadays…
"What are you guys doing?" D asked, his mind unable to compute, but thoroughly amused.
"Surprise!" The three in on the idea shouted.
"Surprise? A party?!" Claire gasped. "My momma gave me a surprise party once! I got to play with some of her paints that day!"
"Oh! A party? Really?" The boy seemed to be shaking off some confusion, and the excitement he felt that day began to bubble up again. Today had been pretty special. "Who's surprise party is it?" D scratched his head, and Claire looked at him like he was insane.
"It's not mine!" Claire said, shaking her head. "My birthday is in February. It's not February yet, right?"
"No," Ewan stated. "It's December."
"By my calculations," D offered, tapping his index finger to his lips, "I think it's like, the twenty-third?"
"Is it?" Bakura asked, and for a moment his gaze gained a faraway look.
"Yeah, I think. Based on just an educated guess, though." D's brow furrowed, deep in thought. "I mean my birthday is probably closest to…"
He froze. Claire gasped, excited for the boy. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a squeeze. "Happy kinda sorta Birthday!" She exclaimed.
"To the both of you!" Samuel joined their hug. "You didn't have a birthday with us, Claire. Let's hope this makes up for it!"
She squealed in delight, hugging the boy in her arms even tighter. D made a small surprised noise at the force of her delight, and that set everyone to laughing again. That night was full of mirth and revelry that they all had been lacking in since the dawning of this new era. All knew it would be fleeting, so all took part with a zeal that would have surpassed any party years before it.
Just before midnight, when Claire was half-asleep against D who had been reading a book aloud to entertain them, Bakura stepped outside and looked at the stars that were beginning to peek through the cloud cover once again. He took a deep breath of the cold night air, and let the nostalgia wash over him. This time, the joy and sorrow he felt did not bring forth an obsession that he had become used to in such situations. He smiled at no one, but spread his arms wide, facing the east instinctively. It would only be right. The closest he could get to who he wished to speak to.
"Happy Birthday," he whispered to the man that could have been dead for all he knew. However, saying it felt right. He silently hoped that if he was alive, he was living well and safe. Hoped he was unaffected by all the absurdity that was filling the world. Hoped he was happy.
Bakura turned back to the hotel, a place he could call a temporary home. For temporary it was. He did not need the faint nagging feeling in the back of his mind to tell him that this happiness was temporary. If it was, he was going to enjoy it for as long as he could.
He hoped the children would get the same chance.