The start of something special.
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Chapter 1: Try Not To Hurt You, Won't Squeeze Your Hand Too Tight
He watches as duelist after duelist walk onto the court. All with varying degrees of skills and a wide variety of decks. Some even with the potential to be admitted into the academy.
But none do more than make his eye flicker to them before passing onto the next person.
Alexis is next to him, and her occasional comments are what provide a satisfying distraction. She is vocal on who has the most potential, what cards would make for a good combination, and how much time is left before the entrance exams are finally over. Zane listens to her half-heartedly, and only shifts his demeanor when she brings up a more personal topic.
"You said your brother will be taking the exam today right?"
"Indeed." He hasn't seen him yet, though admittedly he hasn't actively searched for him.
Alexis mistakes his pensiveness for concern. "He'll make it. I'm sure he's improved in skill—"
"He hasn't." The statement is blunt, razor sharp with icy honesty.
She purses her lips, and silently decides to drop the subject, vying instead to lean forward into the railing to watch the remaining duels.
They comment to each other on occasion, noting the rarity of a few cards and the strategies of students, and Zane nearly forgets the repetitiveness that comes with the typical routine of novices.
But something draws his attention to the western side of the court.
His first observation is her red hair, amalgamating perfectly with her red blouse. Not a common hair color. Then his eyes are drawn to her monsters. Plant type. Two in attack position, and one face down card. Her opponent—an Obelisk Blue undoubtedly pressured into volunteering at the exams—has only one monster, but its attack points are marked at 2700.
She's too far for Zane to discern her facial expressions, but her posture suggests conviction, assurance well placed in her skills. She pushes an arm forward and her lips move before the face down card reveals itself.
A magic card. Its effects are quickly linked to one of the monsters, and its vines stretch out to indicate a power shift. They crawl across the court and make it to the opponent's side.
The vines tighten around their monster before constricting, shattering it into multiple holographic fragments that quickly disperse into the air. Zane watches as the duelist winces in evident disbelief before his life points decrease sharply. Not enough for elimination, but definitely enough to simmer overconfidence.
Interesting. He presses his lips together. Already she has depleted enough life points with only the use of a few cards. He wonders if every move is a calculated part of a more convoluted strategy. He's no stranger to the quick-thinking a duelist needs, but for a novice to be able to evoke such skills is a rarity usually only ever witnessed in preeminent duels.
His fingers rise to his lips in an unconscious manner, distinctive to his thoughts, and only realizes he has been staring at the girl for too long when Alexis nudges his arm. He turns his attention to her pointed finger, following it to another duelist. A weak but somewhat perceptive one. His interest shifts again, and he searches for the section of the court where the red-headed girl was.
By the time Zane finds it, she has won her duel and is already gone.
The start of classes mark the beginning of Zane's final year. He's finalized his plans for the future, eyes set on the professional dueling leagues, with significant merit to justify his ambitions. Chancellor Sheppard wholeheartedly agrees, Professor Crowler is impatient to begin boasting on how he helped shape such a powerful duelist.
And the third year students who bore witness to his quick elevation to rule the school as its Kaiser—a nickname of foreign origin but with hefty importance—are ecstatic with pride.
Three students in particular have been vying for his attention. Amid the flattery and modest amusement there is a keen need to aid them, brought about by the urgent responsibility to carry his title as the epitome of exemplary.
They spend their lunch hour in his room. Zane has rearranged the furniture so his desk is closer to the couch, the closest spot being instantly claimed by the boy most zealous.
Two of them are looking to transfer to the more rigorous Duel Institute, a place that prepares one to major, and eventually garner a Ph.D, in dueling. The other is aiming for the more leisurely position of teaching (Zane thinks he will pass him on to Alexis).
The clock on the wall ticks the minutes as he busies himself with each boy. He views their individual merits, scrutinizes the requirements for both options, bookmarks lists of helpful resources, highlights imprudent errors on their essays that would undoubtedly deny them even consideration.
He twists a pen between two fingers, evidence of composed concentration. Just as the room is lulled into silence, save for the occasional rustle of papers or soft scratching of pens, one of the boys begins talking.
"Did any of you hear about the monster of Slifer Red?"
Immature chatter, Zane infers, but the other two respond in kind.
"Ooh, I heard it was a girl! It was a girl, right? She's some sort of sorceress!"
"A witch," the first boy hisses, loathsome. "Slifer Red has no dormitory for girls, so I heard they put her in a closet."
The proclamation earns a guffaw from each of them, clear imagery of a pitiful girl in a closet invading their minds.
"She shouldn't be allowed to stay."
"She might destroy the school. I heard there's a name for people like her…"
"A witch—"
The callow talk grates on Zane's nerves for a reason he can't deduce. He straightens into a position more indicative of their meeting.
"We didn't come here to gossip," he informs them. He recognizes the tone as more firmer than usual judging by how they immediately silence.
"But Kaiser…" The voice trails off. The nickname has been directed at him before, usually attached to some form of praise.
But it doesn't deter him from the main point.
"We're not here to gossip," he reiterates. "Stop talking like elementary schoolers and focus."
He reaches for another pen, and acts busy by rereading the information on the paper in his lap.
Another minute passes before the room is once more filled with rustles and scratching.
"You know you look like you're brooding half the time?"
Zane contemplates ignoring her teasing, but settles on indulging Alexis for a bit. "To the common eye, perhaps."
She smiles. "And I know you. But standing so dramatically by the lighthouse doesn't help. Sometimes I wonder what you're really thinking."
Sometimes his thoughts are enigmatic to his own mind as well. Pensive on an issue one minute, debating another two the next.
He decides to deviate the conversation to a more colloquial topic. "How's Atticus? Have you heard from him?"
"He's still looking to transfer back." She turns her attention to the ocean, captivated by the way the waves oscillate into the distance. "Maybe he'll be back in time for spring."
"So we'll only have a few months together before graduation."
"Well with him, it'll feel like years."
Arguably she's right. But the idea of spending time with someone close before permanently leaving the school is one that Zane favors.
"Give him my regards." A short response, but one filled with familiar meaning.
Alexis smiles, and before she can offer a reply, a figure emerges from behind the nearby warehouses. They recognize the familiar gait, dark blue jacket undulating with the rush of wind.
Chazz rushes to their side, and Alexis regards his state. "What's going on?"
"Did you not hear?" He points vaguely towards the academy's main building, the place where all students regardless of assigned dormitories can fraternize together. "It's the witch!"
Alexis blinks. "The what?"
"The witch!"
Zane immediately understands. "You mean the new girl. The Slifer Red one." He can't recall her name; verily, her status has eroded from 'the new girl' to 'Black Rose' and now to the rudimental 'witch'.
A title easily branded, and difficult to forget.
Chazz continues his rambles, tone back to the usual arrogance associated with him. "The Ra guy she was dueling kept wailing. Something about real pain? Could just be a sore loser though, she was really kicking his—"
Alexis cuts the crude comment short, turning to Zane with concern. "Isn't your brother in Slifer Red too?"
He is, but Zane doesn't see the need for distress. Syrus is too much of a frightened cat, always avoiding problems. If the rumors of a witch have reached his ears, then suffice to say he has crawled beneath his bedsheets and remained there. It's the tendency he's carried since childhood.
He begins walking away, and only slows when he hears his fellow classmates beginning to follow him.
"Where are you going?"
He's straight to the point. "Where do you think? I'm going to duel her."
"Did you not hear what I just said?" Terror has momentarily clouded Chazz's usual respect for the upperclassman. "She's a witch! She makes damage real."
"There must be more than that." Truly Zane can't perceive the facts, but the unknown has never deterred him from a challenge. "I know better than to follow superstitions."
Through the corner of his eye he can see Alexis' worry, and he addresses it with a final statement.
"But if she really is some sort of witch"—that's just absurd—"then I will be the one to tame her."
Zane finds her without foreign assistance. He follows the trail of terrified students, and recognizes her immediately.
She stands alone, clad in red, the azure sky in the background visible through the glass dome. Motionless amid scattered students. He acknowledges her with a curt greeting, and she finally turns.
Unspoken formalities cross between them, understandable despite the apparent silence. A mutual concordance recognized by the invisible thread connecting all duelists. She steadies her left arm, metallic duel disk already attached, and Zane corresponds with his own capacity.
He concedes to her the first turn, and she confirms his previous observations of her deck. She summons a plant-type monster and sets two cards.
The field is to his advantage. Most of the nearby students become acutely aware of that fact as Zane succeeds in summoning a Cyber Dragon. He finishes his turn with a signature move, setting up an opportunity in the future using a card too familiar to the bystanders. His opponent hardly flinches, and merely commences her next turn by drawing a card.
The duel teeters in his favor. Not an entirely implausible result. It isn't until the fifth turn that he realizes the trepidation and seclusion aimed at her aren't unfounded.
Her monster, a burning phoenix-like plant, evades a trap and manages to strike at his life points. The flame that hits him is not holographic; it burns and sears as he attempts to activate some form of defense. Someone jeers superstitions—"witch!"—and his mind instinctively shifts to believe it.
But he shuts the assumption down swiftly, never really was one to follow conventional methods. To believe assertions, blindly, is not what he stands for.
He is mechanical, analytical and to the point. His deck is reflective of his innermost thoughts, risks calculated to the point of perspicacity. Strategic yet bold, it's his cogitation that has carried him to the top.
But she is his direct opposite, dueling with a mind cluttered in emotions and desires. Her thoughts are enigmatic to him, but even he is observant to the feelings simmering in the depths of her heart.
She summons another monster, and Zane braces himself for another attack.
It doesn't fail. Serrated thorns cut into his flesh. His hand brushes a stray petal away, and it's tinted red with specks of his blood. He curses the impeccable white of his uniform, forced to wipe the sulliness from his fingers on his dark pants to avoid frightened scrutiny.
Her turn is over, and he draws. The ground in the middle of the field breaks to reveal the colorful sarcophagus, announcing the return of his card. With the new addition to his hand, he is finally able to call forth his signature ace, the monster that never fails to secure a duel to his vantage point.
He has no powers, a fact that Zane is suddenly aware of and grateful for, so the stream of light that Cyber End Dragon engulfs her in does little more than blow some strands of hair out of place. She shakes any form of residuum away, and her life points drop to zero.
And she finally, finally, directs her words at him.
"Game over." And she sounds assertive, resolute in the lingering moments before her cards completely disappear.
The injuries on his fingers aren't precarious. He collapses his duel disk as she approaches him. Any previous apprehension dissipates as she extends an arm in graceful and mutual rapprochement.
He takes her hand in his, muscles tensing against his conscious efforts. He notes the small nicks and cuts, comparing it to her flawless skin, and the rumors are suddenly more valid. She squeezes his hand with a movement too quick, as if afraid that a more stagnant touch will push forward hidden emotions.
The duel is over, her hand slides away from him, and the loss of contact is immediately noticeable.
"You're skilled." His comment succeeds in getting her eyes to meet his. "Yet I've never heard of you."
"That's what happens when society tries to push you beneath the rug." There's a distinct bitterness in her tone, hidden beneath the austerity of her defeat.
"I never even got your name."
"Akiza Izinksi. And you"—her arms cross over her chest, and a finger taps rhythmically against her bicep—"are Mr. Zane Truesdale. Or the Kaiser."
The witch is a flirt. And Zane feels the slightest fluctuation in his pulse, an uncharacteristic impel that brings him to the precipice of disconcerting.
He shakes away the sentimental thoughts. "I see you're well acquainted with the student body. In that case I suggest you head to class. Our duel took longer than I originally intended."
Her eyes seem to widen a minimalistic degree. But whether she caught his hidden boast, or is simply dazed by the amount of time dedicated to their duel, he can't say with certainty.
"Agreed." Her tone is back to the way it was prior to the match—a peripheral frigidness that assimilates with her solidarity. She slides her deck out of her duel disk and secures it somewhere within the confines of her uniform jacket.
She turns without so much as a second glance behind. Her eagerness to leave stimulates a gentle breeze, and Zane quickly notes the scent of roses. Appropriate, given her deck. The potency lingers only until she rounds the corner and disappears.
He breathes, enjoying one final trace of her. Someone asks him if he's alright, and he remembers the damage he received as a result of their monster's attacks. They're miniscule injuries, hardly worth a nurse's visit, but he decides that his duel against Akiza will be the final one for the day.
He retreats back to the Obelisk Blue dorms. By the time he finishes treating his cuts and settles into bed, he has convinced himself that the recurring image of the Black Rose Witch in his mind is caused entirely by rivalry, the intense desire to satiate his competitive spirit.
And the image that keeps replaying is Akiza standing still, in the presence of that clear sky, sharply contrasting the crimson red of her uniform and hair. She holds a form of ethereal beauty, a cold disposition wrapped in douceur apprehension.
Today convinced Zane that she isn't a witch. There is nothing supernatural about her.
Only an alluring something that persists in retrospection.
Chap 1 End
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Dedicated to somebody very near and dear to my heart.