ACTIVATE – MATERIAL:01: GLADIATOR
"Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen, and is become the habitation of devils, and the hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of every unclean and hateful bird."
– The Book of Revelation, Chapter 18, Verse 2, KJV
I
You Show Duel School
Fusion Dimension
Black smoke billowed into the sky, ruining what would have otherwise been a picturesque day. Flames gushed from within the shattered mountain like pus from an open wound. If not for the surrounding hillside, and the simple stone façade hewn into one side of the landmass, the display would have looked not unlike the eruption of a long-dormant volcano. But the smoke was far more oil than ash, and the haze of fumes that shrouded the land reeked too much of petrol for anyone to even consider that what had happened here was a testament to the power of nature.
Instead, it was a testament to the power of man—and the depths to which he would sink in demonstrating it.
The soldier was only one of a squad patrolling the remains of what had once been the You Show Duel School—or at least, the You Show Duel School that had served as an asylum for the traitors and defectors who'd decided to reject the old Academia. Ordinarily, regulations would have dictated that he travel in a group of three at minimum. But today had been so routine—indeed, a less professional mind would have called it 'easy'—that even his XO had not bothered to care much when asked if there was a risk to travelling alone here.
Their attack, like the others leading up to it, had come virtually without warning—and with even less mercy. Half of the campus grounds had been destroyed in the first artillery salvo alone. The structure beneath the mountainside had been specially reinforced, or otherwise there would have been cave-ins by now that had trapped its inhabitants—and worse still, blocked off the soldier and his squad from the reason why they'd shown up in force in the first place.
His ear chirped just then, a faint noise coming from the earpiece built into the steel-gray helm that covered every inch of the soldier's head, save the satisfied smirk on his mouth. That smirk faded slightly—whoever was calling had done so at an inopportune time. But his orders—and the reputation of the person who was contacting him now—were as fresh in his mind as the day he'd first heard them.
He'd barely answered the call when: "Sit-rep."
The single word was laced with his CO's natural accent—and spoken in the gruff bark of a man used to giving orders and expecting them to be obeyed, rather than the other way round. The soldier had to smile at that—there was something to be said for being short and to the point.
"The courtyard and the upper levels have been secured, Colonel, sir," he reported smartly. "We anticipate complete takeover shortly. Conscription commenced twenty minutes ago."
"How many?"
"None so far, sir," said the soldier. "As was anticipated." He glanced at the ground around him. The hot winds of the blaze had mercifully blown many of the cards that littered the campus out of harm's way. But the air was still hot enough, and still oily enough with chemical stink, that he imagined their occupants—all the men, women, and children who had attempted to make a stand against him and his compatriots, and failed—had to be feeling pretty crispy inside their digital prison right now.
"The headmaster?" His CO sounded bored—like he didn't care if he was about to get any "recruits" as a result of today. Maybe he'd been expecting the lack of cooperation even before this strike had even been ordered. But the soldier knew he wasn't here to pick the man's brain—that was more the purview of his XO than anyone else.
"Still tracking, sir," he answered, a little uneasily. He knew what question was coming next. "We believe he wasn't on campus at the time. We'll be checking the dimensional transit logs before we pull out."
There was a pause. "And your mission objectives?"
The soldier grimaced. There it is. He paused just long enough for his CO to get the impending sense of bad news. " … The experiments were not present, sir."
He heard a long, exhaling breath in his ear, laced with static. Then: "Captain … put me through to your XO."
There was an unusual amount of emphasis in the two letters, almost religious in its delivery—as if the person who'd been put in charge of this assault was more than just an executive officer. That, he thought, was certainly true. But her orders had been clear. He could not countermand those any more than he could the orders of her superiors.
"She's questioning the deputy head now, sir," he said. "She was very adamant that their teatime not be disturbed—"
BOOM.
The smooth walls at the mountain's summit chose that moment to explode; a veritable fireworks display of gray dust, violet flame, and crimson lightning had erupted from the topmost window set into the bastion. From this explosion of color and energy emerged two forms that could not have been more different from one another. One was much faster than the other, hurtling out into empty space while its companion followed at a leisurely pace.
Unfortunately, the first figure's speed was not a consequence of any choice he'd made. It was apparent from the beginning that he'd been blasted away just like the wall. He spiraled through the air, buffeted by the shockwave but clearly unconscious; his arms weren't flailing even an inch at his predicament.
The soldier cringed as the teenaged boy bounced once off the steep stairs that sliced up the mountainside, then tumbled down the remainder until finally coming to a stop, mere meters from where he stood. That was more than close enough for him to identify who the unfortunate soul was.
At one time, he had held a great deal of respect for Edo Phoenix. There was a part of him that still did—some things never changed, and the bond between soldier and officer was one of them. He'd done his tour of duty under Edo in the Xyz Dimension; indeed, it had been the supreme commander of Academia's forces there who had helped him work past the dreams he had of his time in Heartland City—of the ruin and fire they had inflicted upon its people. They had troubled him in those days, as they had many of his unit. Thanks to Edo, they no longer did.
He stared down at the unconscious boy, and found he could muster up no emotion whatsoever for his former commander. Whatever pangs of regret he felt at what had happened to a boy barely older than he was had been snuffed out by the smoldering embers of betrayal, caused by a fury at what this boy had become … and what he'd thrown away to get to this point.
Any further rumination on Edo's fate was shattered by the shadow of the second figure. This one was far larger—too large to be just one person. And sure enough, the moment the talons of the car-sized dragon had touched earth, its dark, hard-light body—so armored as to look more puppet than beast—disappeared into thin air. The last trace of its existence the dragon left behind were its protuberant eyes, staring so intently into the soldier that he felt the gaze pierce straight through the Kevlar micro-weave fibers of his uniform, and well into his own flesh and bone.
The gaze of the monster's rider, if anything, was stronger still, even though it commanded only half the presence it had used to. She was tall and thin—a good head taller than he was—and roughly twice the age of Edo, with all the advantage in rank that implied. Spring-green hair fell down her shoulders and spilled down the small of her back. Nothing set her apart from the soldier save two things: first, the threadbare, patchwork violet overcoat that draped over her like some secondhand cape—and second, the burning gaze set within the thin face of his executive officer.
Every soldier had heard the stories of what had happened to Dr. Gwendolyn Grimm: the dreadful wound that had dimmed her emerald-green eyes all too briefly—the deceptively thin scar that slashed across her face in the flattest of lines. Surgery had done its job, but it had not been enough—now, something feverish had been allowed to reside in the Psychic Duelist's one remaining eye; the loss of its twin had only intensified the ferocity within. The remnants of its companion had been left to fester like an acid bath in the empty socket left behind; something unspeakable simmered and burned in its place, now—something that failed to disguise the worst of the wound that lay beneath. Even now, that something twitched and throbbed behind the plain black cloth that protected the wound, constantly leaking dark, caustic slime with every attempt at escape, like horrible imitations of tears.
He was too used to the sight to forget his orders—but the sight before his eyes was still enough to turn anyone's stomach. "Never mind," he said after he'd regained his composure. "She just finished up. One moment."
Immediately, he snapped to attention with a quick salute. "Der Kämpfer," he said briefly. Nothing more needed to be said—when the CO wanted a report, you didn't waste time with idle banter.
This was a fact that even Dr. Grimm, for all her formidable nature in combat, knew to be true. A slim finger reached into her own earpiece, tuning her into the call.
"We were too late." Her British accent laced every vowel with a razor's edge. "They were definitely here, but they didn't overstay their welcome. Our troops are combing the surrounding area. We'll get a twenty before long."
"This is the third time, Lieutenant Colonel," her CO grunted sternly. "You were specifically selected to lead these missions because of your experience in deep cover. I permitted you the opportunity to operate with more freedom than usual on account of the assaults I have been coordinating myself. But this string of failures is not like you."
A pause. "Perhaps I was premature in reinstating your former rank—or in overseeing your … upgrades." The ruminant tone, so unlike her CO, did not last for long. "You are permitting yourself to get drunk on your newfound power. I suggest you clear your head and focus on your mission."
Dr. Grimm stiffened and sniffed—but not before her single eye had flicked to the thin, silvery lines that lined her wrists. "I had no choice but to act quickly, Colonel," she said, wiping black mucus from her right cheek. "Our advance scouts determined that neither Sakaki Yūshō nor our mission objectives were on campus. However, I could not take the risk of someone trying to warn him, so I made a judgment call and ordered the strike prematurely."
"Yūshō may have sufficient warning already," said the colonel. "My contacts elsewhere have reported no additional incursions. Which means there's only one other place the experiments plan to go."
"Then I take it you were more successful?"
"Yes. As of now, the Kingdom of Misgarth is under martial law. All loyalist leaders have been sealed. The crown prince has been deposed and arrested. His assets have been seized and are being put to use even now—including the fragment whose companion pieces we have already recovered from our concurrent ventures."
"We have no time to waste, then." The XO tapped at her Duel Disk. "Send me transport coordinates. I'll receive my orders from there—"
"No." There was no hint of malice in the single word, but she still flinched as though her CO had just slapped her in the face. "We can afford no further mistakes—not when we are so close to the second phase."
Silence. The soldier was left to wonder what precisely the second phase entailed. "I'm sorry. I know how much this means to you. But I can't let you lead this one. As of now, I'm assuming operational authority of this mission."
"Who said that?" said Dr. Grimm. "Was it you? The Director?" She pronounced the word with as much religious connotation as the colonel had employed in referring to her. "Or"—suddenly hushed—"was it possibly—?"
"Wendy."
The single eye widened. A sizzling noise filled the sudden silence that had descended on the ruined mountain just then: the oil-black pus that continually leaked from her damaged eye bubbled and splattered on the stairs.
The soldier had to use every restraint he had to not flinch as the glutinous mass burst into violet flames before his eyes. Dr. Grimm was very particular about how she was addressed; indeed, perhaps only the Kämpfer—and whatever superiors he served—had the right to call her by that name anymore.
The colonel's voice had stopped just short of open hostility. "I am more than aware that we are no longer a part of Academia," he growled. "I am also aware of the circumstances that allowed you to serve under me again, as you did in your youth and in your prime. But you know who and what we work for now. There must always exist, in all things, a chain of command. We are all one in this chain. Multi in unum. Do you understand me, Wendy?"
The soldier saw a faint wobble in the Psychic Duelist's neck, and knew she'd just resisted the urge to swallow. But he took one look at the baleful green eye looking right at him, and interpreted that as a direct order to never discuss anything he'd seen and heard today with anyone for as long as he drew breath.
Finally, Dr. Grimm nodded. "I understand, Colonel. I won't lose sleep over this, for what it's worth. We both know they haven't forgotten me there. Best to use a fresh face this time."
Her tone was conciliatory enough. But her stilted words told the real story; the soldier knew she would follow her CO to the bitter end—even if it meant disobeying a direct order from the man who controlled them both.
But just as quickly, Dr. Grimm softened. "Talking of fresh faces … I'm sending one to you now." She nodded at the soldier, then to the still-unconscious Edo. The soldier took the hint, and made the proper adjustments to his Duel Disk immediately and without question. "Perhaps he may make an exemplary division commander once more … "
"We will see," said the colonel. "Supervise the conscription for now and stand by for further orders."
"Yes, sir." She saluted smartly and stiffly. "Unum in multis."
Without another word, Dr. Grimm deactivated the communicator, and locked her eye on the captain just as he'd managed to finish programming the exit coordinates on his Duel Disk's aperture program. He snapped to attention.
"Send three squads back with him." The lieutenant colonel gestured to Edo. "Have the rest stand by to reinforce."
The captain nodded—but not without restraint. "Three more squads alone will almost double the Colonel's strike force," he said after a second of mental math. "Are we certain we need that many men for this operation?"
The Psychic Duelist paused to wipe a trail of black goop from her cheek. "I know the ins and outs of his target better than anyone in our organization," she replied. "I helped coordinate his plan of attack myself. And believe me—he will need every last man we can spare. It's too heavily fortified for us to assume otherwise."
Quite suddenly, she yawned, and stretched her body until the soldier could hear joints popping. But just as soon as this unexpected lapse of behavior had manifested, it was over, and she was her usual self once more.
"Captain."
He stiffened. "Ma'am?"
"You will take command of this operation in half an hour. I must make efforts to track down our fugitives."
He considered this. "Lieutenant, due respect: the Colonel was insistent you sit this one out. I don't think even you could get away with disobeying a direct order from him."
"I'm not looking for escaped experiments, Captain," said Dr. Grimm. "I'm looking for escaped students. I don't believe for one second that we caught this entire school with their pants down. They had advance warning—they knew we were coming. Some of them must have escaped along with Yūsho. If they are allowed to remain out of our reach for much longer, it will mean consequences."
She turned away. Before the captain could stop himself: "Where are you going, ma'am?"
Dr. Grimm did not even look back. "I need a power nap," she said shortly, almost casually, before taking the stairs up to the ruined Duel School. "Just long enough," the soldier thought he'd heard, "for me to pick up their trail … "
The urge for the captain to smirk was overwhelming. Perhaps it was because he knew only too well the dark powers this woman commanded to think her choice of words was coincidence. Or, perhaps, it was because he didn't have to look at her XO's mutilated face again.
Every soldier had heard the stories. Just stories, rumors—nothing anyone could verify. But there were stories all the same. Each one told of something unthinkable—impossible. For all the grotesqueness of the wound that dominated her face, these stories whispered, a far worse scar had been inflicted on the mind that lurked beneath.
They had a name for her, all the traitors and defectors that he'd sworn to hunt down: the "Crybaby Doll". Even mouthing the two words in silence made him flinch, out of fear that his XO might have heard them resonate in his thoughts. It had begun as an insult—a mockery of the lieutenant colonel's disfigurement, when word had inevitably spread of everything she had done, and all that had been done to her. But as time went on, the insult had become a badge of honor. Eventually, it had become a symbol of fear.
No one in the organization better knew the value of fear as a potent weapon than the Psychic Duelist who called herself 'the Golem'—because there was no one in the organization, the captain knew, who was quite so fearsome.
Crybaby Doll, he thought again, smirking. He aimed the glowing end of his Duel Disk at the defeated Edo Phoenix, ready at last to send him away to his CO and whatever fate awaited him there. If any crybaby were to be found today, it would be the poor soul that had defiled the face of his executive officer …
Maiami City
Pendulum Dimension
"Shut. Up."
Kōtsu Masumi couldn't help but smirk. The sapphire-blue eyes of Hīragi Yuzu were so wide and round that she wouldn't have been shocked to see them roll right out of their sockets and expose twin geodes in her skull.
"It's the honest truth," she giggled, watching Yuzu run her fingers through her pink hair in disbelief. "About a week after Yūya left to rescue you, I found out Academia snuck a mole into LDS. Yaiba and our new friends helped me rat her out." She decided not to mention she'd done all this on a relative lack of sleep. "A month after that, the Headmistress deputized the five of us when this mole's accomplice tried to use LeoCorp technology to cripple the city from the inside out. So," she crossed her arms triumphantly, "not only are we still the school's circuit reps, we're also the founding members of LDS' Section of Investigation and Defense. LID for short."
Next to Yuzu, Sakaki Yūya gulped down a coffee. "Even Hokuto?" he asked, wiping his lips.
"Especially Hokuto," said Masumi, smiling wistfully. "He was part of us from the beginning. We just weren't able to make it official for a while."
They were sitting under an umbrella, at a table that had been erected on the sidewalk. The You Show Duel School was visible from the opposite street corner, its façade popping and bursting with a hundred different vivid colors like fireworks frozen in time. The surrounding scenery looked quite subdued in comparison—not even the two-tone green and red of Yūya's ubiquitous hairstyle added enough color to the browns and silvers of the sleeker, more modern coffee shop they'd decided to visit today.
Yūya looked around. "Where is Hokuto? I'd have thought he'd be with you after being stuck in a card for so long."
"He's with Fuyu," Tōdō Yaiba remarked just then, sliding a latte towards Masumi and sitting down beside her. "White chocolate mocha, just like you wanted," he grinned at her. The LDS Fusion circuit representative rolled her eyes, knowing full well what that grin implied, but she pecked her Synchro counterpart on the cheek anyway.
Yaiba needed a few seconds for the flush of color to leave his cheeks before he spoke again. "Anyway … yeah. Hokuto and Fuyu have known each other for longer than they've known either of us," he said. "And Fuyu was our only Xyz Duelist until Hokuto came back when Z-ARC attacked. They've been catching up ever since."
Yūya looked away hastily. Yuzu seemed not to have noticed. "Well, it certainly sounds like someone's been busy outside of school," she said knowingly. "And I might have to put a class field trip together to this Gravity Sixteen place you said you met one of your new friends at. It sounds like a lot of fun!"
Yaiba and Masumi looked at each other—and without warning, laughed until they were short of breath.
This only served to confuse Yuzu. "What?!"
"You say that now," Masumi said, still giggling and wiping a tear of mirth from her eye, "but I guarantee you that if Hotene meets your class, she will challenge each and every one of them to a Duel over there. And I can't promise you that any of your kids are going to know which way is up by the time she's done with them."
"We'll see about that," Yuzu winked at her. "Futoshi got his new Deck in the mail a few days ago—he's been testing it all weekend. And he's been looking forward to actually Dueling someone with it ever since he placed the order." She shook her head. "I swear … it's been Dynamist this, Dynamist that. Between all his shivering~"—she did a goofy little wiggling dance in her chair that only made Masumi and Yaiba laugh even harder—"and all the times I've overheard him practicing his dinosaur roars in the locker room … " She exhaled, grinning widely. "Kids are a handful. But there's so much payoff in teaching them that it's worth all the headaches they can give you."
"So we've learned with Hotene," sighed Masumi. "They just have so—much—energy! I popped by her house for a visit last week, and I heard her pestering her mom to turn a bit of their backyard into a practice area for the gym classes she's been taking." She threw up her hands incredulously. "Yeah—like all the trampolines in Gravity Sixteen somehow weren't enough for her! She already has the one in her backyard as a birthday present—but I'm beginning to think she goes through them like I go through shoes and clothes. She's flipping all over the place, she wants to hold sleepovers under the stars—and I've never once seen her get tired since the day I first met her!"
"I'd like to know how her family could even think about gymnastics classes after almost losing their daughter," Yaiba remarked over his own drink. "They must work in insurance or something."
Yuzu forced a laugh, then shook her head and exhaled. "It's horrible, everything you told me happened to her—absolutely horrible. Attacked inside her home? Blasted off a building? And all that after you said she'd been brainwashed—tortured, even?!"
Masumi nodded glumly. "Hotene's been through a lot for a girl who just turned ten. And yet, every time I see her, it's like it hasn't even happened. If it weren't for experience, I'd tell her to see a counselor. Only, well, the last time I did, it … " She did not finish her sentence. Nor did she need to; Yuzu and Yūya had already learned that much.
No one spoke for the next few minutes; more attention was devoted to their drinks after that moment of melancholy.
Eventually, Yuzu was first to finish her coffee, and it was perhaps for that reason that she was first to speak again. "Well … to get back to making things official," she said, smiling knowingly. "You? And Yaiba?"
Masumi sighed. "Well, it was only a matter of time," she muttered to herself. "Yep—me and Yaiba. Our first kiss happened on top of LDS." She felt her eyes begin to mist over in recollection. "There we were, facing five different monsters—all Level 9-plus—without hardly a hand or an Extra Deck to our names … "
But Yuzu waved her aside. "Yeah, yeah, yeah … so I've read from all the tabloids. Why do you think I made this a double date?" she giggled. "I want you to spill all the truth—a lot more truth than I know those rags ever will!"
Yūya blinked. "Wait—you and I aren't even dating … " He gulped when he saw Yuzu, glaring at him through narrowed don't-you-dare-ruin-this-for-me eyes, reach for something under the table.
"That's honestly all there is to it, Yuzu," Yaiba said, apparently not noticing. "I kissed her, we won the Duel—she kissed me back. And her kiss was much better, too. I guess all those gossip pieces had to pad things out somehow."
Yuzu, having left Yūya sufficiently intimidated, tore her eyes from him at last. "Did she give you a rose?"
"Sorry?"
Yuzu smirked. "A Crystal Rose?" She fiddled with her pink Duel Disk, and produced a single card from the Deck inside. "Like this one right here?" She held it up for Yaiba to see.
The Synchro Duelist shook his head. This only made Yuzu's smile even wider. "Too bad—guess she likes me a little bit differently than she likes you." She winked at Masumi in a way that made her cheeks color.
She looked at Yaiba, knowing full well this must be what he felt like every time they touched one another. The Synchro Duelist was looking back and forth between her and Yuzu, a particularly thoughtful look on his face—and an even bigger blush than before on his cheeks—oh, and there's the smile, Masumi thought one second later.
It took all she had to keep from scowling. Boys. "Yuzu … could I borrow your harisen for a sec?"
"No problem." She only needed to look at the You Show Duelist to know they were thinking the same thing. One second later, Yuzu had withdrawn a large paper fan from under the table, and passed it to Masumi.
WHACK.
Masumi didn't wallop Yaiba—just rapped him on the skull hard enough that his spiky brown hair still flattened from the force of the impact, causing him to choke on his coffee in surprise.
"Thanks." Masumi smirked at the sight of her spluttering boyfriend, coffee dripping down his chin, as she returned Yuzu's harisen. She'd make it up to Yaiba later today—
WHAM.
The paper blades smacked the poor Synchro Duelist on the temple so hard that he spun a full one hundred and eighty degrees, toppling right out of his seat. Yūya was close enough to his friend that the enormous fan had clipped a few hairs right off his scalp, and he stared at the result of the ferocious blow as if it had hit him instead.
"No problem." Yuzu put away the harisen, still smiling as if she hadn't just raised a lump on Masumi's boyfriend. The Fusion user hastily amended her mental note, deciding instead to make it up to Yaiba with interest later today.
Yaiba finally clambered up with a long groan, rubbing at his sore head. " … Okay, okay. I deserved that. Ouch. At least you saved me the trouble of asking," he said with a wry look at Masumi. "I promise, I promise—I won't make Yuzu a third wheel in our relationship."
"Good boy." Masumi ruffled his hair affectionately as they laughed it off. She was inwardly glad they'd known each other for so long; this had hardly been the first time Yuzu's fan had popped up as a tongue-in-cheek threat.
One person wasn't laughing, however, and it took until the mirth died down for Masumi to notice.
"You've been quiet, Yūya," she noted. "Everything all right?"
For the ace student of You Show Duel School—and perhaps, Masumi thought, of all Maiami City, considering recent events—had been lounging back in his seat, staring away from them all at the Duel School that his father, Yūshō, had founded with his personal philosophy in mind. His eyes—normally dancing with many colors besides the shade of ruby that tinted them—had been hidden behind the iconic star-studded goggles he normally wore on his brow, something Masumi had seen only rarely in all the time she'd known Yūya, and never since Yuzu's return.
Yūya coughed, apparently just now hearing his name. " … Sorry. I've just been thinking." He forced a laugh at the puzzled stares his friends traded with one another, and peeled back his goggles. "I know, right? I guess having three different people living inside my head now means I can actually do that a lot more often."
"That's … actually something I was meaning to ask." Masumi had been clued into the nature of Yūya's unique attributes, having seen pictures of the three boys from different dimensions, and the dragons they wielded, that looked so much like him and his own Odd-Eyes Pendulum Dragon. "Okay—Yaiba and I aren't going to pretend that we know how it's even possible that the spirits of three, four boys your age got sucked into your brain."
Yaiba nodded in agreement. "What we want to know is … honestly, anything you can tell us," he said. "Can you let them take control again, or are they just kind of … there? Like they're watching from the sidelines? How do we even address you now—does it depend on who we're speaking to?"
Yūya did not answer him for a long while. "It's … hard to say. I don't think either of us has been living like this for long enough to find out for sure," he admitted, glancing at Yuzu. "I'm still Sakaki Yūya—don't get me wrong. I'm still the same tomato-brained knucklehead who likes to make a circus out of every Duel he's in," he chuckled. "But with Yūto, Yūgo, and Yūri … and what I've been told of the Z-ARC I was before … "
He fell silent again. "I can talk with them, yeah. I can talk to their monsters as well. You've already seen they've got something in common, too. I think it works best," he eventually said, "if I'm Dueling somebody."
"Same here," Yuzu chimed in. "If I concentrate, I can let my counterparts sense the same things I can. Ruri really likes your eyes, by the way, Masumi." The Fusion Duelist couldn't help beaming at that. "But when I'm Dueling … when I feel that rush of exhilaration … it's something I shared with her and Rin, and even Serena and Ray."
Masumi blinked. "So … you're good if I still call you Yuzu, then?" She nodded, and Masumi exhaled. "Phew. I was about to say, that's going to take some time to get used to. To say nothing of knowing that you used to be Himika's … " Her brain flailed for the proper word for a long moment. "Stepdaughter? Sort of?"
Yuzu buried her hands in her face with a very long moan. "Ugh … yeah. That's a can of worms I really don't want to crack open right now. I've only been back for a few weeks, Masumi. Yūya had a lot more time to process all these changes to his body and mind than I did. Kurosaki and I haven't had a chance to sit down and chat about what this means for us as brother and sister, so who knows what he thinks about this. And my new half-brother seems to be taking things unnaturally well considering how wacky his family tree has become."
"Yeah, well, since when has anything ever fazed Akaba Reiji?" Yaiba chuckled. The laughter died on his lips an instant later when he heard a tinny beeping sound coming from his Duel Disk.
"Ugh—already?" He checked the time, and blanched. "I'd better be off, babe," he said hurriedly to Masumi, getting to his feet. "I promised I'd pick up Hotene and her friend from gymnastics this week, remember?"
Masumi did. Hotene and Emina Rika, the two top students in LDS' Junior Fusion and Junior Synchro circuits, had already been good friends before recent events had shunted them into Masumi's life. Today, they'd become nigh inseparable; she had seen enough Action Duels to know that the two girls formed one of the most formidable tag teams she'd seen in action since Hokuto and Fuyu—who themselves had been Tag Duel champions in the past.
"Don't exert yourself," she said, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his other cheek. "I'd like to have another practice session when you get back."
Yaiba was very, very still. His voice was almost as tiny. "You mean … ?" he managed to squeak.
"With you." Masumi grinned, waiting for the connotations to sink in, and let her voice sink to a purr. "Only you."
She could never resist any opportunity to wind him up, she thought—the blush on the Synchro Duelist's toughened face made it worth the while every time. "At least let me take them home first," Yaiba managed to stammer.
"Perfect." Masumi knew Hotene's trampoline would keep both her and Rika busy all afternoon. "Keep in touch?"
"You know it." Yaiba blew a kiss back at her, a sudden spring in his step as he turned away. "Love you!"
"Love you too!" Masumi hoped she'd never get used to the raw emotion speaking those three words put in her heart. The memory of the first time she'd said them to anyone outside of her own family was one she wished to treasure forever.
Today, however, it only lasted until she turned back to Yūya and Yuzu—and found the latter of the pair with hands to her breasts, blushing as if Masumi and Yaiba had just exchanged vows rather than a good-bye kiss. Yūya sat there, smiling knowingly. Even he hadn't failed to notice the twenty-four-carat hint Masumi had dropped just now.
"He buys you coffee and chaperones the kids?" Yuzu was smirking wider than ever. "You had better keep him, Masumi—you've whipped him good."
Masumi shrugged. "What can I say?" she giggled. "I work with gems—I know a rare find when I see one."
"Are you still at your dad's jewelry shop, then?" Yūya asked.
The Fusion Duelist nodded. "I'd already been helping him out for a while before, but yeah—I officially started a part-time apprenticeship a couple months before you returned." She glanced at Yuzu. "I've got a little more leeway as far as personal time off for certain … commitments. But"—she slouched back in her seat—"with Academia gone, I don't see myself as needing those commitments much anymore. I mean, I've got to lead my own life sooner or later. Yaiba's just one facet of the huge gemstone I want to carve as far as that's concerned. And let's be honest—it's not like one of their soldiers is going to walk up to the table and challenge me to a Duel for my life, are they?"
"Hey—Yūya!"
Masumi cringed until she nearly slid under the table. She knew that voice. " … Oh, I just had to open my mouth."
With a great effort, she picked herself up and looked the speaker in the eye. " … Hey, Dennis," she said hesitantly. "What're you doing here?" She blinked. "And who's the, uh … the big guy?"
For Dennis McField—skinny as a rail, his frizzy, carrot-colored mop bouncing with every step he took as he approached their table—was not alone. Next to the American exchange student, famous and infamous alike with his exploits through the dimensions, was a man who could not have been more at odds with him if he'd tried.
That he looked a lot older than her father didn't seem to matter much; as she had said, he was indeed a big guy—a very big guy, even. Easily six feet tall, maybe even seven if he stood on tiptoe—and as broad from shoulder to what little neck he possessed as Masumi was shoulder to shoulder. The blue, three-piece suit he wore stretched at the seams from his wide, muscular torso, while the red necktie tucked in between looked tiny against the rest of him.
What drew Masumi's gaze most about this mountain of man, however, was the head peering down from its summit. The crown—gleaming above twinkling twin chips of dark lapis lazuli—was shaved completely bald. It might have reminded her of an old friend, who'd recently gone back to China, had the man not also sported a most impressive salt-and-pepper mustache, whose tufts fluttered in the light breeze that had been caressing Maiami City all day.
Dennis thumbed up at his gigantic companion. "I worked with him when I was in New York," he answered. "He's a Dueling instructor at LDS' Broadway campus—and not only that, he's officially recognized as the strongest Duelist in Europe. Allow me"—he put on his most dramatic airs—"to introduce: Herman von Stadion!"
Silence. Yuzu and Masumi traded the same glance of Who-the-heck-is-this-guy? Yūya, though, looked thoughtful.
"Herman here called me out of Heartland City earlier this week to do some catching up," Dennis went on, apparently not even abashed at how his introductory fanfare had netted so little in the way of applause, "and … well, how could I refuse? Herman, this is Kōtsu Masumi—and I've already told you plenty about Yūya and Yuzu."
Herman extended a massive hand—the one that wasn't clutching the large black briefcase he must have brought with him—that could have passed for a flesh-colored shovel. "Schön! Sie kennen zu lernen!" he boomed.
Masumi blinked. Several times.
So did Herman. Immediately, he looked quite sheepish. "Ah, tut mir leid—I forget myself." Even when subdued and contrite, his thickly accented basso made her bones quiver with every word he spoke. "I am hoping my English is much better than my Japanisch. It is very lovely to be meeting you, Fräulein."
Very slowly, Masumi put out her own hand—tiny against Herman's own—and then promptly received her second shock in as many moments when Herman, instead of merely shaking it, swooped down to kiss the tips of her fingers. She felt the skin of her arm erupt in goosebumps, immensely relieved that Yaiba was not there to see the gesture.
" … Likewise," she managed. Her voice sounded exactly as squeaky and breathy as Yaiba's had just a few minutes ago. Then reason got the better of her flustered state, and she tore her eyes away to look at Dennis. "Um—just to be clear. This is the same Herman von Stadion you worked with when you were … um … "
She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. "Spying for Academia?"
Dennis' eyes widened. "Oh my GOOOOOOOOD!" he yelled, clapping his hands to his temples and looking ready to tear out his own hair. "I knew I'd forgotten something important to tell you! How did this slip my mind?!"
And then, quite suddenly, he was laughing. Masumi, having toppled off her seat for the second time today, felt a headache coming on as she took in the sight of not only Dennis chortling fit to burst, but Herman joining in with a hair-curling belly laugh of his own. She glared at them both, and wondered why Yūya and Yuzu weren't doing the same thing. Some things just weren't worth making a joke about—especially this soon after wartime.
"No, no—he knows, Masumi," Dennis, still bent double, managed to gasp out a few minutes later. "He knows. He almost didn't trust me at first, and I'll admit he had a lot of reasons to be suspicious—but it's a long way to Maiami City from the United States, even by plane. I had plenty of time to explain myself, and I think I've convinced him."
His knees buckled, and he visibly winced, as Herman clapped that shovel of a hand on Dennis' shoulder. "Ja. All water under the bridge now, mein overly dramatic friend."
Masumi wasn't so sure. She knew Yūya and his friends had personally vouched for Dennis—but to know that she was talking to the boy who had singlehandedly doomed eight billion people, to say nothing of paving the way for an entire dimension's destruction, left a bitter taste in her mouth that would not go away with mere words.
Of course, she also knew that she hadn't known Dennis nearly as long as he seemed to know Herman. Perhaps they shared that sort of bond where such things could be spoken of in jest—even if polite company said otherwise. So she relaxed … but not so much that her gaze didn't leave Dennis for even a millisecond, even as Herman blocked it on his way over to Yūya and Yuzu.
"Now, then!" he rumbled. "I am hearing tell of the MANY heroic deeds you two have done! On behalf of all of LDS Broadway, I wish to offer you MASSIVE THANKS—and, if you wish it," he added sotto voce, "a job!"
This time, Yuzu traded glances with Yūya. "A job?" they said in unison.
"But of course!" boomed Herman. "Can you imagine? Being the pioneers of a new generation of Entertainment Dueling? The EXPOSURE! The EXHILARATION! The salary's not too bad, either," he muttered with a hand to his mouth, and tipping a wink as if confiding a great secret to the pair.
It was impossible to tell which of the two You Show students looked more starry-eyed. Yuzu, perhaps being descended from the current principal of the school Yūya's father had founded, eventually won out—but only because Yūya himself looked as though he had a burning question on his mind.
"Ah—one condition," Herman said. "Only one position. So"—he clapped his hands—"there must be an interview."
"An interview?" A wicked grin was twitching on Yuzu's face. "Does … that mean a Duel?"
The muscle-bound German blinked—and then roared with laughter, louder than ever. "Hah—even better!" he bellowed. Masumi made a mental note to run a comb through her disheveled hair before Yaiba got back. Looking so disheveled after a "private practice session" was one thing. Looking so disheveled before one was quite another.
Herman beckoned to them. "Come with us, then—come! I am seeing your Duel School right across the street! We shall have our interview first—and then, we will see what INCREDIBLE talents and cards you have been keeping from Broadway, eh?"
"Just one question." Herman cocked his head at Yūya. "If you taught at LDS Broadway, and you're friends with Dennis MacField … that must mean, at some point, you met my father." He looked up. "Is that right?"
There was no accusation in the question. And yet, for the briefest instant, Masumi thought she'd seen a shadow pass over Herman's face. She might have taken it for a wisp of cloud if there were any to be found in the clear sky.
Herman nodded. "Ja. I did know him," he said heavily. "I wish I had the chance to study under him … when I was as young as you. There is much I have left to learn, even in my old age—and I wonder how much of it I could have learned from such a fine man as Herr Yūshō."
The poignant moment hung in the air, like a spider's gossamer thread in the morning dew. "Ah, well," said Herman with a shrug. "I have learned to never dream of all the roads I did not take yesterday—but rather to imagine the roads I could be taking tomorrow! Come, then! Let us see what roads you shall walk, in the prime of your lives!"
Yūya's iconic smile was back on his face as he stood up. "I think that makes two of us!" he said excitedly.
"Make that three!" Yuzu bounced up right behind him. "You should call your dad—let him know the good news!"
No sooner had she said that than Yūya had fished out his bright red Duel Disk. But it only took him an instant to switch on the screen before his smile faded a little.
"That stinks," he muttered. "They must be doing some maintenance—I can't get any bars at all on this."
Masumi checked her device as well. A cursory glance at the NO SERVICE splashed on her screen was all she needed. No doubt Yaiba had seen one just like it on his own Duel Disk already.
"It's probably best to wait after the interview, anyway," Yuzu soothed. "It wouldn't make sense to get your dad's hopes up for nothing, right?"
Yūya nodded, though very grudgingly. "Want to come along and watch, Masumi?" he called back at her.
The Fusion Duelist stared at the screen of her Duel Disk again. It was possible that Yaiba, having tried to call her and failed, would come back from the gym and wonder where she'd disappeared to. But the Synchro user was smarter than he liked to behave around Masumi—he knew he'd left her with friends, and that the You Show Duel School was close enough that even at worst, it was the first place he'd look to figure out where they'd gone.
And so Masumi stood up, draining her drink. "Eh—sure, why not?" she shrugged, moving to join them. "At least if someone here gets into trouble, my Gem-Knights and I can stick around to bail you out."
The teens shared a laugh, leading the way for Dennis and Herman. None of them had the faintest idea that in less than forty-eight hours, Masumi was about to be proven more wrong than she could possibly have imagined.
Leo Duel School
Ten minutes later
Before his employment with the Leo Duel School and the Leo Corporation as their Chairwoman's personal aide, Nakajima had served a stint with the Japanese Self-Defense Forces—and had had the chance to put those skills to use very recently. Those days were long behind him, but the old training never went away, even at his age.
So when the air before him turned and twisted inside out with a hum of energy and a hiss of lightning, Nakajima barely even started from where he stood, in front of the door leading to his employer's spacious office.
What did make him start, however, was what the telltale sign of an incipient dimensional transmission deposited on the freshly polished marble floor. He would know that crimson jacket and purple top hat anywhere.
"S-Sakaki Yūshō?!"
But the founder of the You Show Duel School looked in no mood to chat. He had barely finished catching his breath and fixing his windswept hair before whirling on Nakajima.
"Where is Akaba Himika?" he demanded. The man sounded like he'd just run miles to get here. Maybe he had, thought the aide. But his instructions were clear.
"She's in a meeting." He thumbed at the closed door behind him. "The headmistress of the Endymion Duel School is inside, and they're in the middle of some delicate—"
"I don't care." Yūshō's voice was rough. "Shut down every dimensional corridor we have—shut down everything! If you want an explanation," he grunted, seeing Nakajima's shocked look, "you'll let me in to talk to her."
He stepped towards him. "Right now."
A/N: I'd have had this out sooner if I didn't get sick near the end of last month. Ear infections are never fun. There are probably some errors I missed in this chapter because of it; I'll correct them as soon as I can.
I may also have used Darin de Paul as a reference for quite a bit of Herman's character—and I had fun with it, too. His voice role as Reinhardt from Overwatch wrote a good fifty percent of his dialogue by itself.
Most of this chapter's second half was an exercise in writing extended slice-of-life scenes for me. It's not something I've often done in my usual action-based stories—where what the characters do, rather than what they say, end up chewing up the bulk of my word counts. Hopefully it turned out well enough that I'm comfortable with doing more of them in the future.
Thanks for reading! – K