Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! and I do not own Vampire Hunter D. Writing this bit is getting dull.

But the story is still quite entertaining, and I hope you all feel the same.

Sorry it has taken so long for the next chapter to be posted, but I've been a bit busy. So here is an early Halloween treat for all of you!

Chapter Six: Realization

Bakura held onto his pack, grunting with effort as he scaled another large mound of concrete and twisted metal. A woman behind him began to whine to the man beside her only to be promptly cut off by his exasperated plea for her to shut her mouth. The young man's lips turned upward at the image he imagined of the woman looking back at the man with a half surprised, half offended look, with eyes that spoke of certain payback when they were alone. Instead of coming out as a smile, it looked more like a grimace as he pulled himself to the top of the pile. He felt the cool wind whip through his white hair, and was silently grateful that he had remembered to put it into a ponytail. Next time, or so he swore to himself, that he saw a pair of scissors he was going to give himself a haircut. It probably would not hurt to give D one either, as the boy's hair had finally passed his hips, and he had been complaining that he was sitting on it accidentally more often than usual. Bakura's own hair had reached the very end of the small of his back, and threatened to give the boy's locks a run for their money. It was not that he was neglecting it on purpose, but for the past several months, the two had just been far too busy. Life in Domino City had changed, but it still had a hectic feel when everyone woke up until everyone drifted off to sleep. Simple things like haircuts just got left in the dust compared to things like maintenance, medicine, food, schooling, and security. Bakura's job revolved around finding food.

It had been his first assigned job, and he had shown enough skill to damn himself to the task. His supervisor for this had been none other than Jounochi, and their reunion went far more smoothly than the one with Yugi. When Bakura had asked Kaiba about the man's placement into that field instead of security (for Bakura could recall that if anyone in their group had enough gumption to be security, it had been Jounochi) Kaiba had replied with a faint smile on his face.

"I've always called him a dog, and he has proved his worth in steering the cattle under his watch to food and safety when needed. You won't go wrong under that man's watch," his blue eyes looked into the softer brown ones with assurance, "He has been the only supervisor not to lose more than one man on his team for all the years that I had assigned him to this task. This is a dangerous job, and when you go out there, I will tell you now, YOU are your only security. The world has changed and it is not for the better, but you will see that in time. For now, just follow his orders, and don't get killed."

Jounochi had greeted him with a hug and a strong pat on the back, telling him that he hadn't changed a bit. Bakura had nodded politely to this, noting that the man before him had changed, and quite a bit from the last time he had seen him. He had also grown, his body boasting strength more than ever before. He also learned where Kaiba's sudden approval of the man had come from on his first day out, when they had been attacked.

It had already been a trial for the young man, who had felt like collapsing after just a few miles out. After all of the recent excitement, his body wanted to just relax, but he pushed himself further because he needed to, for he was not doing this just for himself. Jounochi had the lead, and another man whom Bakura did not recognize held the back. This man looked nothing like Jounochi, for his friend seemed to brighten up the area around him, a few who stood right behind him even laughed at the joke the other young man had just said. The people in the back however were always a good distance ahead of the man, often crushing the people in the middle to the people in the front; to this Jounochi had nothing to say, so long as it did not impede the distance that they made. If anything, it looked like it was Jounochi's way of keeping the people moving.

They had just reached the remains of a small convenience store that seemed to have been set up as a tourist trap, when a group of people came at them from the northeast. It took one shot fired at the group Bakura was standing with for all chaos to break loose. Someone beside him screamed; another pushed him aside in their mad dash to escape the gunfire. Bakura had fallen, skinning the palms of his hands and tearing a hole in his newly acquired jeans as all those around him ran themselves silly in tight little circles. Bakura had just enough time to look up at Jounochi who was saying something to the intimidating man before he got kicked in the head by someone who had timed their turn a little wrong. Pain shot through the young man's head, and he shut his eyes reflexively, feeling pain induced tears leaking out of his eyes. He wondered what he had gotten himself into, and hoped that he would be able to come home to his young friend alive.

When he heard the stamping of feet shift away from him, he opened his eyes to see the group huddled in the shop. Only Jounochi, the man from the back of the line, and Bakura remained outside amidst the bullets. Bakura stood up quickly, wobbling due to the pain in his head, and watched as Jounochi gunned down three without so much as a blink of an eye. The other man had taken out two that had been closing in from the right. The people in the store remained useless. That was when Bakura noticed something dark heading towards them. Giving himself just enough time to question if the thing was a grenade, but not to answer, he ran forward, ignoring the bullets that flew past him and caught the object, immediately throwing it back. It did not make a full journey back to the other group, but when it exploded Bakura and his team members were unharmed aside from a few bruises they had received when they had dived for cover. The other group had not been so lucky. One member was on the ground screaming from a burn they had received to the face, another, who had barely escaped the blast, had slipped and broken their neck in the fall. Four remained, but they were quick to turn tail when Jounochi had picked up his gun and aimed it at them. The other man gave him a questioning look, and Jounochi shook his head, holstering the gun.

"You pansies can get out of there now," he called with a tenderness, "Wait, better yet, get what you can and then rendezvous with me out here. Ten minutes tops!" Turning to Bakura he grinned. "I knew you'd put your life on the line, I've seen it before, but damn, Bakura, you either weren't thinking or you really have more balls than what you get credit for."

Bakura's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "I just figured…"

"Just figured nothing. You saved our skins out there, quite literally." Jounochi chuckled, and took Bakura's hand, leading him like an adult leads a child to their playpen, "Here, you get first dibs on what you want from these idiots." Still smiling he added in a low voice, "I won't tell Kaiba a thing. Sometimes we need a little something here and there that we can't get anywhere else. Now go on, you deserve it."

Bakura looked down at the dead bodies, and felt his stomach do a slight turn. "I see you've gotten over your fear of dead things, Jounochi kun."

"With the way everything ended up, I kinda had to. Not to say that your deck still wouldn't give me the shivers," he replied good-naturedly, "But see if you can't find something for your hands with them buddy. You're bleeding all over the place."

Bakura had then nodded, looking at his hands with a strangely irritated look. His mind rang with only one thing at that moment. What a waste of blood.

Shaking his head to rid himself of this not so fond memory of his first day on the job, he stood atop the cement pile, now six months into his new life and already a supervisor himself. He might not see Jounochi on the job any longer, but he enjoyed the times he had with his friend on their time off. That rare time off…

"Okay!" He cried, turning to his small group of gatherers. There were five, not counting himself, but all were young and able bodied. They had to be, for unlike those stories where children believed that gathering meant little more than berry picking with a possibility of digging, they were gathering items that were dangerous and meant for warfare just as much as they were gathering to feed their city. This world was not safe, and all were too well aware that the east was becoming more dangerous by the second. People who had been content in their prior towns and colonies were now coming over due to lack of supplies, and most had no intention of bartering. This world was now a free for all, and most of humanity was degrading itself to raiding and pillaging. Wildlife had also changed, but they only knew this by the tracks they had seen. Strange paw marks littered the softer ground, and only once was a carcass found by Jounochi's group. Bakura and his group, along with the rest of Domino City had never seen the horrors that were arising due to the leftovers from the war, and nor did Bakura ever want to, but…

He was damned to his job.

"Everyone enjoying this little hike?" he asked, trying to make a little joke. Most of his group did nothing but scowl at this remark, but a young woman near the back smiled in return. The additional thumbs up sign made him redden with embarrassment. She was always a pleasant girl, and he had somewhat known her in high school, but most interaction with her was awkward. Anzu had mentioned that she had had a crush on him ever since he had transferred to their school, and had been more than ecstatic to hear that he was alive and well when he had returned with D. Anzu with a baby resting against her shoulder as Yugi looked at her with adoration beyond any Bakura had ever seen in his eyes before. He was happy that those two could attempt to live a relatively normal life given the circumstances, but he doubted his own life would ever turn out in that way. Even though Miho was not by any means ugly, he had never felt any attraction to her, but he had never had the chance to explain it either. This almost suited him fine, but he did not want her to get any ideas, and that was difficult when embarrassment could be mistaken for shy pleasure.

"Well it seems like one of you did," he continued, turning his gaze away from the girl, and setting it on the ground behind another, "You all know the drill, this is a medical supply run. If you find any food that you know you can carry, and you know it is good then do it. Do not make this your mission though; our food supplies are well stocked for the month. We need unopened syringes, and I repeat UNOPENED. Just because the world has changed doesn't mean that all diseases changed. We also need any sort of sedative, and please, if you don't know what drug you found bring it to me, we have a checklist written by a doctor that should describe most medicines that are found in a hospital. I will give you smaller lists of the ones highlighted, this way you can grab the ones we need immediately. I have been told by the previous shift that this place should be deserted –"

"Then why didn't they just grab this stuff then?" someone asked, annoyed.

"Because they were on a food run at the time. That was not their objective."

"That's stupid," they replied, grumbling.

"Choji san, if it bothers you that much then I must request you take it up with Kaiba san himself. I'm sure you remember how to make an appointment."

The man named Choji scowled, crossing his arms and turning his face away from the front. Bakura sighed in exasperation, but continued his speech as if the hiccup had never happened. There was too much that needed to be done.

"As I was saying, this place is supposed to be deserted, which means this should be easy. The difficult part is going to be getting all the stuff home, today. I doubt anyone wants to be out here during the night."

He could feel the fear coming off of his little group, and understood completely. They did not know of the vampires (Bakura was happily surprised to note that there had been no man resembling D wandering the area, but wondered why the man had not gone looking for his experiment/son) but the lands became dangerous at night none the less. Mostly it was just disappearances, but sometimes a member of their city who had left or had been out gathering was found with the strange paw marks stamped on them, the dirt caked, claw marks across their chest and other areas. Some had only chunks of flesh missing; others were completely free of anything that made them resemble a human. It was only by the skeleton that they were recognized as such.

"So let's just do this, and do it quickly, so we can go home to our families in one piece."

There was a collective nod of approval and Bakura turned his head toward the half standing building a mile away. He hoped that he would be able to find something rare, possibly in a massive refrigerator that worked against all odds. His finger traced the inner portion of his pack that he had ripped open himself, creating a sort of secret compartment. They were running out of something important as well.

In the school garden, D sneezed loudly. Some of his peers turned to him in disgust, but a gaggle of girls giggled from behind him. He turned, the sun hitting his unprotected face and he could not help but squint. "What?" he asked, "did I do something to amuse you?"

"You sneezed just now," one replied.

"That means someone is thinking of you!" another squealed and the group of girls fell into a new set of giggles.

"That's a bunch of nonsense if I ever heard…" D mumbled, "Maybe I'm just allergic?"

"Nah, you never sneeze," the tallest of the group tittered, "Someone has a crush on you!"

"And how is that—"

"Hey, Mr. Pristine Prince, you got a girlfriend?" A tall boy interrupted, making his way toward D with his hands shoved in his pockets, his chest puffed out, and his own little group of followers behind him. They began sniggering and D could not help but see the similarity in what the group of boys and the group of girls were doing. He mentally shook his head in disbelief that they could react so negatively to one another when they were so much the same in certain aspects.

The first day of school for D had been just short of torture. Bakura had had to leave due to his first job assignment, and had not been able to explain fully to anyone about D's sensitivity to the sun. The boy did not want to seem unnatural, so he had sat there in silence, feeling the sun burn against his skin ever so inconspicuously. It also did not help that every child that was in his "class" had been staring at him almost the whole time.

"His skin is so pale," he could remember hearing one whisper.

"Is it a he or a she?" whispered another.

"The teacher said it was a he…"

"What kind of name is D," the boy who was standing in front of him now had said, sneering, "Is it short for Deedee? My mom's sister in America was named Deedee."

He of course had nothing to say to those remarks. He did not want to hurt the boy, and felt that it was unnecessary to anyway. It was awkward, but it was not intolerable. His main problem had been the curriculum and the play time that was given. It was difficult for him not to go through their dirty sheets of "practice" in every subject in a matter of minutes. It was difficult not to read through the entire book from the "hardest" bin during reading time, while some struggled through the first chapter. His eyes took in every word, his brain calculated every problem, and his ears captured every important intonation from his teacher faster than it took the students to even realize they were supposed to be learning. He felt offended; he felt stupid for even lowering himself to answer the simple algebraic problem on the scratched chalkboard. Worst of all, he felt bored, but he was supposed to be normal, normal for Bakura sama's sake. Which meant that a nine year old boy would not be able to write an essay that would make a high school senior's teacher nod their head in approval; but of course after hearing about this, Bakura had spoken to the teacher, and D was allowed to do certain exercises that would actually challenge him, but he did remain in the class that was his age.
This did not fix "play time" however.

It was not that D did not like dirt. In fact, he always felt some sort of pleasure wash over him when he dug into it, or stuck his feet in a hole to bury it over his feet. It made him calm and when it sifted between his fingers he could not be more contented. His problem was not dirt, but dirtiness.

These children did not know how to keep themselves clean. Neither did some of the adults, but at least the adults tended to certain necessities, like blowing one's nose before it begins to dribble onto one's lips, and wiping properly so there was not a faint smell of fecal matter left trailing behind. He understood his sense of smell was far better than humans, but still, how could one miss that? Thankfully, the girls rarely had this disturbing scent, so he had a tendency to associate with them more. This however made him the butt of every pansy, frou frou joke that only a juvenile mind could be offended by and he was irritated only because of how often they were repeated. During the actual schooling hours he could ignore his fellow classmates, but during "play time", as it was enforced that all must be social for the betterment of their community, he was confined to the schools gardens with them. And it was amid their small projects that would be given to the society that protected them that D was cornered by all that could possibly annoy him at that moment.

He had been playing with a girl his age, allowing her to braid his hair and talk to him about her mother. He enjoyed listening about how happy the woman made her as he dug at a little patch of dirt that did not belong to the flowers or the vegetables that the students grew. D was not against making friends, in fact he wanted more, but it was just so difficult to be friends with such juveniles. Childish games were fun, but not when sore losers abounded. That had been around the time he had sneezed, and all those idiots had suddenly appeared. He did not expect the girl beside him to speak up; he preferred her not to.

"That was a decent bit of alliteration," D stated, brushing off his pants to rid them of dirt as he stood. The girl beside him remained seated. "Did you truly come up with that one on your own, or did you run to your brother to get something that would possibly offend me? Pristine is a big word for you, you know." D could not contain the snide tone in his voice.

"Wha?" The boy's eyebrows rose in confusion, and then lowered in anger.

"Oh, so you do realize that I just poked fun at you," D continued, and then felt a hand touch his own. He looked down to see his friend looking up at him with worry on her face.

"Don't get into a fight, please?" Her voice was meek, and low enough for most not to hear. His ears of course picked up the words.

"I don't plan on it," he replied, and a small smile formed on his face, "why don't you go see how your flower is doing, Amami chan."

The girl smiled, nodded, and then ran off to the other end of the garden, to the little square of flowers. Most were not vibrant by any means, but any color made the area more beautiful. D watched her leave, knowing she would be immersed in her task soon, tediously checking her flower for anything wrong with it. Only when he was pushed did he take his eyes off of the girl, as he had to put most of his attention into not falling. Righting himself, he glared up at the bully who was looming over him trying his best to look intimidating, and crossed his arms.

"Yes?" D asked, trying to keep his composure.

"You're pretty stupid for saying that to me," the boy replied, cracking his knuckles.

"Saying yes? Or pretty much just saying you were too stupid to realize I was making fun of you?"

"You little shit!"

"Oh, you're using curse words now…does that make you feel manlier?" D could not stop himself from answering back. Even though he did not speak very often in class, or at all until it was necessary, his irritation with this boy had reached its peak.

"Hey, he's saying you aren't a man, Tomiichi!" one of the boys behind the tallest said.

"That's some pretty big talking for the kid who has braids in his long girly hair!" Tomiichi snorted, "You are really pushing your luck kid. Just because you are the newest kid here, smarty pants, doesn't mean that I'll let you get away with calling me a girl."

"I didn't call you a girl," D replied, "I can if you want me to. I just was not impressed with the language that you used. It sounded a bit forced. Wait a few years…kid."

"I'm going to kill you, you little shit!"

D did not reply to this. He was done with the childish antics, and turned to join Amami in her devout task in keeping her flower the healthiest. Instead of a push this time, he felt a blow to the back of his head, and spun around just in time to receive another blow to the side of his face. He heard the girls scream, and as he shook his head in disbelief (for the pain he received was nothing compared to what he had dealt with before) he felt the kid grab his shoulders and another came and kicked him in the stomach. This time he doubled over in agony. Suddenly his left hand reached out and pushed him back up to a righted position. Embarrassment filled the boy's face when he heard the others laugh, and his left hand spoke the words that he was thinking.

"Why aren't you fighting?" the hand hissed. D could have answered, but he was afraid that if he opened his mouth he would attack them in another way. 'I don't want to get Bakura sama in trouble!' was his reply, but it reverberated lamely in his mind, unable to be spoken.

"Ha! This kid really must be a girl! Come on! Fight me, you sissy! You wanted to talk big to the big boys, now walk it!"

"How about we just go pick on your giiiirllfrieend over there? That should get you moving."

D could not contain his rage any longer. He wanted to make Bakura proud, and he could take a few jabs and insults, but these children were about to attack his friend. She had not done anything to them, but they were just that immature, just that unjust to do it.

He opened his mouth and screamed, lunging at Tomiichi and forcing the boy to the ground. The separated groups had formed into a circle around them, and D could hear their cheers and jeers, could hear Amami crying and begging for a teacher to come over as he continuously pummeled the boy with his fists. The child below him cried out feebly and raised his arms to protect his face, tears streaming out of his eyes, blood flowing out of his nose. The cheers had stopped, frightened mumbling had taken over. D grabbed the boy's arm and pulled it away from his face. The smell of blood wafted up and for a moment D could only stare at it, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He forced his eyes away and glared into Tomiichi's.

"I could break your arm," he half whispered, half said, "Do you doubt me?"

The boy only gurgled in fear.

"Do. You. Think. I'm. Lying?" D snapped.

"No!" the boy howled.

"You leave Amami alone, you and all of your little stupid friends. If you have a fight to pick, pick it with me, and only ME. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" he sobbed.

"But you are going to leave me alone now, aren't you?" The boy did not respond so D gripped his arm tighter, "Aren't you?"

"Yes! Yes! Please let me go!" Tomiichi cried out, and that was when D realized that a male teacher had come and was pushing his way through the small crowd.

"Just know, I went easy on you," D added quickly, "Next time, I'll break your arm, and give you a few fractured ribs. Because I can do that, I can do all of that with just one hand." He felt a rough hand grab the back of his shirt and pulled. D's right hand was still holding the boy's arm in a death grip, and it took a few shakes for D to realize he needed to let go.

"Brutal," he heard his hand say as he was dragged away from the group, "You are just as brutal as He is…"

"No…," D whispered fearfully, watching the boy as he got carried off by the school nurse, "No, I'm not. I'm not!"

"Then what was that?"

He felt a stronger tug pull him toward the dilapidated building they called a schoolhouse, and quickened his pace to keep up with the teacher. He was aware of the look he was receiving from the teacher, but that was not the person he was afraid of. He was afraid of Bakura, and what he would have to say about this fight. Bakura would be disappointed.

He knew he had let Bakura down even before his first swing had connected with the boy's nose.

The light from the flashlight flickered, and Bakura had to tap it against his hand for it to become a solid beam again. He surveyed the area and nodded when he saw all of his people standing there with their packs full, and their faces bright with tired happiness.

"Okay, so we have found what we needed?" he asked, unable to contain his excitement. The sooner he got home, the sooner he would be able to give D what he needed. He knew that the boy was still uncomfortable about the idea, but as much as D enjoyed the flavor of some foods (ice cream in particular, if that rare treat could be considered as such) he did not eat much of it, nor did he really need it to sustain himself. So Bakura had been stealing blood packs here and there from their stores when he could, and using a syringe on himself when he could not. Needless to say the latter was not as efficient as Bakura was not a doctor, and could not take out too much lest he over did it, but it was fresher. It was always nice to give the boy a decent amount though, and with just a taste D would be able to recognize if the packets were good or not.

"Let's get out of here then!" He cried, motioning for his group to go through the doors. All of them left with gusto, and Bakura wondered if they kept that pace they could get home in half the time it took for them to get there in the first place. As they trekked further away from the building, Bakura took another look back and smiled. The day had been a good one, and he could not wait to return home.

There was a soft cry ahead of him and he turned his head sharply toward the noise. His people were standing still in shock as a young boy came down a distant weed covered concrete hill, sobbing and crying out. He was far away enough that they could not hear him properly, but close enough that they could see the bloody patches on his torn shirt and that his head was covered in enough blood to plaster his hair against his face. They watched as the boy tumbled down the rest of the way, cracking his head against a metal beam as he rolled. Hitting the pavement, he rose to his feet, wobbling, and looked right at them. Bakura felt as if he had just drunk a gallon of ice water as the boy staggered towards them, still crying all the while. They young man had the urge to run over there and help him, but something told him they needed to get out of there as soon as possible. He was about to round up his group to continue on, but Miho bolted toward the boy just then, calling for him to stop, that he would only hurt himself more if he continued on. The boy however began to limp quickly toward her, screaming and crying and began to point behind him. Miho reached the boy and held him up as he collapsed in her arms. Bakura's group began to mutter amongst themselves and Bakura could feel unrest sliding through the cracks of the previous happy feeling he had. Something was not right with this picture. Where did the boy come from?

Bakura turned his eyes to the sky, watching a dark cloud slide over the sun, and he felt even more afraid. The world had now become a soft shade of gray, all other colors deadened by the lack of light. Normally this would have been soothing to him, but he could not forget that day, could not forget those clothes. Everything had been gray.

"Amane…" he whispered, his eyes still watching the clouds come together in their slow fashion, the sun setting despite their need for its light. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Miho bringing the boy closer to his group; the others still stood in disbelief. Where had the boy come from?

He could smell rain. It was coming from the north; the boy had appeared from the east. Everything was coming from the east. He did. D did. The raiders did. The boy did.

"Help meee…" He could hear the boy sob; it was still quiet. Bakura was off in his own world at the moment, one where he could almost feel her…or what he thought might be her. The clouds inched ever closer together, darkening the sky, and Bakura half wondered if D would have appreciated the break from the sun.

Where had the boy come from, though?

"There, there…" Miho said soothingly, holding the boy close to her as she neared the group, "I'm here and so are my friends, we are going to help you."

"Noo…" The boy cried, "It's going to get me…It got my momma…It's going to get me…"

"What's going to get you?"

Bakura felt a twinge of some emotion, and realized something was wrong with the situation. A boy never popped out of nowhere in this world, and he did not just come from the east without a reason. Not one as small as that.

'He was trying to run,' the voice in his head stated. This was not her voice, nor was it the voice of the man he knew was gone, gone at least from his body. No, this was his reason trying to figure out why he had such a bad feeling, and why he had not gone and tried to help the boy. 'There is something that did this to him and it is still behind him. That blood is fresh.' He felt his stomach tighten in fear. 'Whatever it is, we need to leave now, bring the boy if you must for your conscience, but leave NOW.'

Bakura opened his mouth to make the command that should have come so easily when he heard a shriek. It was an inhuman cry, and even Miho who was trying to quiet the boy turned her head toward the noise. She was almost to them, about thirty feet away. Had she really gone that far to get the boy? Bakura could not remember, but he found his voice just after he saw the creature barrel over the mountain. It was horrific looking beast the size of a bear, although it did not resemble one at all. Its fur was matted and mangy, clumps of it swayed from its belly onto the dirt, but the thing took no notice. It shriek/roared again, its teeth a bed of needles, but this Bakura could not see. What he could see was that what ever it was, it was lean, which means that it was going to be fast.

"Run! Run for your lives!!!" He heard someone scream, and he did not blame them. The thing had begun to run toward them, and the young man had been right, it was fast. He could not, however, allow them to loose focus; otherwise it would mean everyone's death.

"To the hospital!" he shouted above the commotion that had begun, "Run to the hospital and barricade the doors, now!!!"

His team began to run toward the building while he pulled the rifle he had strapped to his back (his handgun was safely hidden in his underwear drawer at home) and took aim. The thing, seeing its prey fleeing, galloped faster, and Bakura watched in horror as it approached the child and the woman carrying him to safety. He shot at it, hoping that it would turn to him instead, but the bullet just missed the side of the beast's leg and it continued after the two stragglers. Bakura cursed under his breath and ran toward the thing, still pointing the rifle at it. He knew full well that he would probably miss again, but he knew he would miss for sure if he was any further away than he had been.

"Keep…running!" he panted, and fired another shot. This one hit the beast in the rear and it roared in pain, spinning around. Bakura could have sworn it was glaring at him with its large half lidded eyes, but he was more than happy to have the attention on him, and not the people who were unarmed. He aimed the rifle again as it began to run at him and shot at it again. The bullet disappeared into the brute's muscle and it was close enough for Bakura to see the blood spurt out of the wound. He aimed again and shot nothing. Looking down at the gun, fear began to overtake his senses. The rifle was empty.

"No!" He heard Miho scream and looked up just quick enough to see her drop the boy and begin to sprint toward the beast that was coming after him. His heart felt like it was going to burst out out of his chest and as he fumbled with the magazine, trying to replace it, he hollered back at the girl, hoping that she would listen.

"Get back to the hospital! Take the boy and get ba—" He looked up, the gun reloaded, and watched as the thing spun around, slashing at the girl who had gotten too close. Her body flew to the side, and the thing followed it. Bakura could hear the boy scream and run at the thing with only his fists to protect him. Without much thought Bakura raised the rifle and shot at the monster again. The bullet's aim was true and the thing toppled over, away from Miho. Bakura hurried to her side, the boy already there and sobbing harder by the time he had gotten there.

The girl was wheezing; it was obvious that the thing had crushed her ribcage into her innards. Blood seeped from the corner of her mouth, and her eyes had a dreamlike quality to them when Bakura looked into them. Disbelief shook him to the very core. This girl was dying, and it was his fault.

"Hang in there, Miho," he said, his voice seeming far away.

The girl looked at him with a mix of pain and adoration which made Bakura want to run far away from anyone who would be able to care for him like that. He remained planted in his spot, however, holding her hand as the boy on the other side began sniffling and gasping. Miho opened her mouth to say something, but only bloody foam made its way out. Reaching out, she touched his face, and Bakura had never felt so awkward and sorry in his life. He had nothing to say, he had barely known the girl, but she had cared for him, cared for him enough to try to save him when she thought he had needed saving. Out of respect he placed his hand over hers, and she smiled. They had been in that position for a few moments when Bakura felt her fingers begin to slip from his own, and realized that her skin was cold to the touch. The child beside him sniveled, and he turned to look at the boy. He did not register the movement behind him, but the child cried out in alarm and bolted toward the hospital, tears returning to his eyes like a never ending stream. Bakura sat there for a moment with the dead girl's hands still in his own, his face a palette of confusion. Only when he heard the snort of the thing behind him did he turn to it.

Its face was blown half away and the other bullet holes were leaking dark rivers of blood. It eyed him with human contempt and Bakura suddenly realized what it had all meant. Dropping the hands of his fallen team member, he reached again for his rifle. The thing snorted at him again, daring him to pull the trigger. He looked into its eyes for another moment, confirming his thoughts that, even when exposed to radiation, things did not get this bizarre within only three years time. This was something else.

Placing his rifle against the opening he had created, he looked down at the thing that had killed his teammate. Its eyes, one still within the skull and the other barely attached by the optic nerve, seemed to follow where the barrel was. It grunted and tried to stand, but he pushed the barrel into the fissure, knowing that it would touch the brain by doing so.

"No you don't," he began without feeling, "I know what you are, and I can't have you wandering around and by the off chance meet him again. Not to mention you killed…" he paused, turning back to the remains of what had been a girl that was blooming into full womanhood, "you killed her. You've killed a lot of people, probably a lot more of my people, too. You and your kind…need to leave this earth now." And with that, he pulled the trigger. The beast's head lolled to the side, the eye he could see showing less coherency by the second, but Bakura did not care. He pulled out the knife which resided on his belt, and plunged it into the thing's chest. Dragging the blade down as far as he could, he reached into the open cavity and pulled out the pulsing organ he was looking for. Laying it on the ground, the young man considered it for a moment before placing his foot over it, giving it one good stomp.

Turning back toward the hospital, Bakura felt the first drop of rain hit the top of his head. He could not see the child that had ran off, but that was the least of his worries. His heart was heavy, and he was unsure of what emotion to feel at that moment. Clutching at his chest, he walked toward the building, his legs carrying him half-heartedly across the broken road. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, feeling the tears begin to fall as he realized that it could have been him. He could have been that thing with the large, half lidded eyes; that thing that had an animal body, but eyes that spoke of cruel humanity. He began to cry softly, thrilled that he was still himself, miserable because a perfectly innocent soul had died to save him; but his tears fell mostly for a small boy who was at home at the moment, doing things that children his age should do, and more.

D may not have much of a chance to live a normal life for much longer.