Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! or Vampire Hunter D.
Really, this was not supposed to take so long. For that, I'm sorry.
Anyway, I hope enjoy!
Chapter Thirty-Five: Wild Card
Bakura's heartbeat pounded in his ears as he left the ring with the others so the set up for the games could begin. It had not mattered what game he chose—he knew it would be like no game he played before. He only wished that the bright lights had not blinded him to the crowd; there were two of his that were unaccounted for. He had wanted to see if they were there, to reassure them with a nod or something, if only to alleviate their fears.
"Thanks for that," Jael said, clapping a friendly and competitive hand on his shoulder. They were back in the challenger's appointed waiting room. Bakura could hear others ribbing each other and wishing each other luck in the games to come. She had been the only one to approach him. It seemed that these people did not trust him. At least, that was the feeling he had. It was difficult to believe anything else. Their eyes averted his, their bodies turned towards each other. Yet, here his captor was, as if nothing negative had ever transpired between them. Was it because she had captured him that she felt she could be so familiar?
"For what?" he inquired. His main concern had been to choose what his intuition had pointed him to, and any other affect had not crossed his mind. He still was unsure what he would stand to lose if he did not win. He didn't think a society with a make up like this would have fights to the death or anything. Not with so many willing participants. That did not assuage all his fears, however.
"I've been wanting her job for some time," she replied. "Don't get me wrong, Mai's a great person…but her heart isn't fully in it. I've got plans for this city, and they need someone like me on the Counsel."
Bakura eyed her curiously. "You're thanking me because she bet on me?"
"And you chose Wild Card."
"You make it seem like I actually know what's going on."
Laughter burst through the contestants around him; it seemed jokes were being lobbed between two of the Physical Game's challengers. They all seemed at ease. Bakura wondered if he should be, as well.
With Jael's fingers digging into his skin, it was difficult to relax, much less so when he considered her stage name. He slipped out of her grasp, reverting to a brief but polite bow of apology. Jael did not seem offended by the way he distanced himself; in fact, she seemed intrigued. With her arm still in a quasi-embraced position, she raised her other hand to her chin. "You need to lighten up," she said, her dark eyes alight with glee.
"Please forgive me if I find that sort of thing difficult right now," Bakura replied, finding a seat far from the others. If they found him frightening in any way, he did not wish to bother them. "You did just drag us down here while we were minding our own business."
"Just prove to us that you're loyal to sanity and this won't be as difficult as you think," Jael sniffed, taking a seat beside him.
His eyes flashed with distrust as she edged closer to him. The way she leaned nearly into his seat set alarm bells off in his mind. "Why are you doing that?"
"Doing what?"
Maybe he was going mad and she wasn't doing anything. Maybe he was becoming a rude individual. Either way, he had to ask. "Why do you keep getting so close to me?"
Her shark-like grin widened. "I'm just feeling you out," she replied, shrugging. "I know nothing about you, after all, but you're all friendly with Mai. No reason for us not to get friendly."
As he observed her the realization hit him, shocking him enough to jump from his seat. He had never thought he would be put in a place to consider such things again. "You mean you're seeing what kind of competition I'll be?" It was such an odd thing to contemplate with everything going on up above.
Thus, the façade faded from her expression, and the cool analyzing gaze he saw up in the world overhead returned. She seemed no less amused, however. "Ah, so you are more intelligent than you look."
"Intel—?" Once again, he was flabbergasted by her response. At least until he recognized the slight for what it was. "Hey!" he cried, affronted.
She flapped at the air as she crossed one leg over the other, signifying what she had said should not be taken so personally. "Come on. Any guy too friendly with her is usually wrapped around her finger and just the most 'helpful' puppet."
Hearing this brought about memories of Jounochi and Honda acting like complete idiots in Duelist Kingdom (at least until Mai had switched up the mood with her 'enemy' talk) and Bakura shook his head, laughing at such nostalgia. Jael seemed to straighten up a little as he sat back down, his hands hanging between his knees.
"It has never been like that," Bakura said softly, staring intently at the pattern of stitches in his jeans as if he found it to be the most fascinating thing at this moment. His eyes stung a little with each returning memory. Yugi getting Mai's star chips back for her. Yugi and Jounochi going up against vicious liars in an underground maze. The group all making it to Pegasus' castle. It had been an exciting and terrible time, and then Battle City had followed. Then of course…
His eyes only stung worse, thinking of all of this, with his nose joining in as he recalled all that had happened afterwards. How their battles before seemed to pale in comparison, even though now it was not the fate of the world resting on their shoulders. Specifically, Yugi's; but he had always been able to lean on them for help if he had ever needed to. The state of humanity and its decay at present, it felt like all that fighting had been for naught. As if his other half had won, as if—
Tears never fell from his eyes, but in the end, it was all the same. Inside, he wept. He allowed himself this time to mourn, silently glaring at the strands of thread with eyes that burned, for there were people who needed him to be strong and unafraid. Better to clear his mind now, when it was safer. And truly—nothing that these people had in store for him was worse than the horrors of being an experiment, of not being in control of his own body. At least he had that. It was a mantra he could repeat. Something he could hold onto.
What a strange face he must have been making for Jael to look at him so concerned. Whatever nerve she thought she had hit, she was wrong, however. He could take solace in that as well. She thought she was clever and could read him through and through. It could be her undoing, if he planned things right.
"She and I simply dueled in a tournament together. She was a friend of friends, stuff like that," he said, one of his false smiles plastered on his face. It was not inherently wrong, as his body had been present.
"You played that duel monsters game against her?"
That garnered a chuckle from the young man. "No, but I know her play style."
Suddenly she seemed concerned for a different reason. "You know how to play that game well?"
"I liked it," he replied, noncommittally. "It wasn't my game of choice. Is it what we are going to play?" If all this was happened to be a rousing game of Duel Monsters, Bakura figured he had been worrying for nothing.
She shook her head. "That's just what she demands to play if you go up against her…hey, when I win," she leaned over to him again, her knuckles white against the seat of the chair, "will you teach me how to play?"
Bakura raised an eyebrow. What an interesting request. "You don't know how?"
"Not that well."
"Why should I help you?"
She sighed, running her fingers along the tightly bound hair atop her head. "I'll also put in a good word for you. If you need anything, I'd owe you one. I don't forget those who help me."
"She is my friend, you know."
"Yeah, yeah…but notice how she didn't try to work around the rules for you? I'd do that."
"Sounds a little…corrupt, if you ask me."
She scowled. "I saw how scared you were. You think we're throwing you to the wolves out there, and if you're telling the truth, and you're not some sleeper agent for those bastards, you probably would have appreciated it."
"I just want to get out of here with the people I came here with." It was a relief to know that, based on Jael's request, nothing they were about to do was life or death. But…why make such a big deal out of it to strangers, then? Was it because a person had to be reviewed by the very forces that made the game what it was? He would have said he could not fathom putting such stock in a game, but that would be silly considering how much a game could change lives.
He caught sight of his scarred hand and clenched it, resolved. He would win this game.
She outstretched her hand, slim fingers straight out, clearly a forced effort. Friendly, but obviously competitive. "Help me, and I swear I'll try to get that figured out for you."
'She really wants this job,' he thought, before extending his hand. He did not take hold of hers just yet, however.
"Sure," he said, letting the weight of his words settle in her ears before finalizing the deal. "I'll help you. If you win."
She snatched his hand in hers and shook it. A smirk had returned to her face. "I might have to worry about you a little bit. You aren't so scared now."
He found himself grinning right back at her. "To be honest, I do enjoy a good game."
The crowd went wild as the games began in full swing. For all the things these people had lost, they had done what they could to entertain themselves to keep their sanity. Maybe there were no longer sports teams of varying locale, but that mattered little when individuals that would have never set foot on that field were known by the names they had chosen and were adored by the surviving members of their society. The children soon saw how eclectic these games were, and how integral they seemed to be in bringing these people together. They saw betting, friendly rivalries, and joy that outmatched anything they had seen in their lives up until this point.
They also saw how dangerous the games could get.
D pushed himself far back into his seat, cringing as one-half of the crowd let out a collective aww of disappointment when one of the players of the physical games legs bent back at a curious angle. Their take on an 'enhanced' game of basketball had offered many opportunities for injuries it seemed, as it was even considered in the off-handed bet two adults had a few seats away from where the children sat. D listened in, the only one of the two able to pick out the conversation between the other noises. Currency quickly exchanged hands and another bet was made. Yet, the injuries they observed were not life threatening, per se. There was a chance that the person he had a stake in would remain unharmed.
He hoped.
"Holy crap, he flew halfway across the room!" Claire shouted, her arms over hear head in awe. Her eyes were alight with amazement and horror as the player was carted away. The winner leapt into the air in response to the cheers of the other half of the crowd before prancing out of the arena with a huge smile on their face. Claire stood with the crowd to get a better view, while the boy remained seated, ruminating on the idea of the setback a broken leg would bring. D watched as the girl clapped with the others around her, her palms beating along in time to a rhythm he did not know. For an instant, he wondered if she had found a place that suited her. A place where she could go on living without Bakura, or him. Yet, as she turned to sit back down, her terrified green eyes met his mirroring the same thought he held in his mind, and he knew. Whatever allure this place held for her paled in comparison to the freedom of their lives above. He could have hugged her.
Instead he gave her a small, reassuring smile, and watched on as the games continued. He did not push away her hand, which snaked into his for comfort. Nor did he admonish her for nearly tugging him out of his chair as she jumped out of her seat again with the crowd, yelling profanities he (once again) had no idea she knew when someone she had been rooting for botched their chance for at least a tie. She flopped back into her seat when he dragged her back, pouting, but remaining the calm and sane one for her was helping him keep calm and away from his own fears.
"When do you think he'll be going?" Claire asked, once the Individual Puzzle Games had ceased. They had been surprisingly dull. The adults had grown silent and introspective as they watched. The children around them had begun to bicker—Jim had needed to turn his attention away for just a moment to attend to a squabble to the left of them, but it had not been long enough to sneak away. Sitting there at that time had been nearly unbearable for Claire. D had managed. He would have rather been doing the puzzle. They all had been going too slow, the answers had been obvious.
"I don't know," D said, plucking at the hem of his shirt. The name Wild Card sounded like a lot of set up…that or it was a card game. He was not certain.
"This is really starting to freak me out. Can't I just do…you know…and you go find him?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," D replied sharply, accidentally tearing a hole in the fabric he had been playing with. Was she trying to blow what little cover they had?
She kicked him in the shin. The woman beside her gave her a warning glance. It seemed she had not heard their discussion prior but had noticed her movement. Claire sighed and rolled her eyes, leaning onto D's shoulder to whisper into his ear. Her lips moved but hardly a whisper of air came through. She knew what was enough for him to hear.
"God, I hate this lady." He nodded at her admission, and she carefully elbowed him out of the line of said woman's sight before adding, "Why are you being such a butt?"
"The last thing we need is to have them questioning what we mean," he muttered, flipping his hair over his shoulder. Her eyes drifted away from his ear to just above his chin. If she could see his mouth better, she would not really need to hear him speak. At least, she was practicing this. "'You know' sounds really fishy when you're an outsider."
"You're fishy."
"Knock it off."
She stuck her tongue out at him and folded her arms over her chest. "You're no fun, actually."
"Just realizing this, now?" a muffled voice quipped before it was silenced with a swift clench of a hand.
"Don't you start," the boy hissed through gritted teeth. The woman's eyes narrowed as she glared in their direction again but only found D resting his head against Claire's, playing off their nearness-of-conspiracy as a nearness-of-familiarity. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see she was giving them a look, but it was one that he was not familiar with and thus he could not assess the next best action. So, he simply sat there with his head tilted awkwardly against Claire, the blonde strands of her strange hairdo tickling at his nose.
After a good five minutes passed by Claire sighed, and nudged him again. "What are you doing?" she whispered as the crowd cheered for the next game. D finally raised his head, and rubbed at his neck, which had been becoming sore.
"I didn't want her to think we were arguing."
"So, you use my head as a pillow?"
"You used my shoulder as one."
She peered at him through narrowed eyes before filling up her cheeks with air, pursing her lips at him. She appeared annoyed. He eyed her in confusion before raising a finger and pressing down on one of her inflated cheeks. She let out an obnoxious noise that was lost in the roar of the crowd, but she cracked a smile at him and giggled. The boy smiled back at her.
He was shocked to hear her next few words, blatant but muffled by the crowd. The words mirrored something he had been considering earlier. "You know, it's nice to have fun with you like this. Do you think, if they all weren't such jerks, we would have stayed here?"
Remaining anywhere for a prolonged period had not been high on the boy's priorities after the ocean town debacle. He had been more surprised that they had managed to stay with their former allies in the mountains for so long. He thought on his answer as they remained the only two seated; a new game was underway.
"No," he said finally. "I don't think so."
Claire nodded sagely at this. "Yeah, it's too loud for you, huh?"
"I don't think it being loud is an issue."
"You hate loud things."
He rolled his eyes. "I don't hate loud things. I just don't feel the need for everything in my life to be loud. I have better hearing than most, remember?"
"Too crowded?"
D folded his arms and kicked one of his feet out to tap on the smoothed concrete below them. "No, not really—Would you have wanted to stay?"
Claire drummed her fingers on the side of her seat, intent, as he once had been that day, on a loose bit of thread on the scarf she had tied to her waist. "I…don't know."
He was intrigued by this response. "Why not?"
She looked up at him with a sad expression. "'cause, if I stayed but you didn't want to…"
"What does my interest in staying or going matter?"
"Because we are supposed to stick together!" she exclaimed, her voice barely hidden by the crowd's latest screeching. "This place has, like, potential to be cool and stuff, but you guys are what's more fun. If you wanted or had to leave, I've gotta go with you. You've gotta know that now."
"Don't be so panicked," he soothed, taking hold of her hand again. "We'd never ditch you; especially not here. You're one of us."
"You're my best friend," she reminded him, accusatory finger inches from his face, "Like, duh, the only person I ever had as a friend, but still. So, promise me right now that no matter what happens in this stupid place, no matter how much anyone says it's a better idea to stay, you don't ditch me."
"I already said that we never would." In his heart, D knew he spoke the truth. Even knowing she would always be in danger, he could not imagine saying goodbye to her. Especially not one who knew who he was, and still acted the way she did. 'You never ditched me,' he thought to himself, as he gave her hand a gentle pat. The boy figured he could handle the world so long as he had a few people he was close to. He could leave other potential friends behind without much fuss, so long as he had his core group.
"You better be telling me the truth," she grumbled and then stood to be with the rest of the audience to shout with them and invest her time in their silly games. She was swiftly becoming the type who did not let the good part of a bad situation go to waste.
D waited before he joined the revelry again. He watched Claire return to jumping around with the masses and found himself biting back a laugh when she winced when something went awry again. She made such strange faces. He wanted to be able to be as positive as she was, but after that brief conversation he had unintentionally refocused upon his own fears. Just as she did not want to be left behind, he did not want to leave without his first real link to the outside world. With what the world had thrown at him thus far, his mind strayed to terrible outcomes.
If anything remotely dangerous happened to Bakura, would he be able to stop it? What would he do if he could not? Who else would he be able to trust with his secret? It was already naturally hard enough to hide even with the support he received. Eventually he would become hungry, would have urges. Bakura had always been the one to protect him when they had surfaced (the illness and the lust for blood were separate entities in the boy's mind). He interlaced his fingers and clutched at his hands almost as if in prayer as he tried to calm himself down.
And then the moment came.
The noise levels of the arena were no different. The announcer drawled out some asinine list of thanks that the boy listened to but did not hear. So focused on his internal woe, it took Claire physically shaking him to pull him from his rumination, and even then, he did not understand what she shouted. Not until his eyes lifted to the scene. Everyone was seated to offer the rest of the crowd a better view of how the stage had changed. A maze-like structure had been constructed with various "stops"—clearly activities to allow them to move forward before the other, with the way things were split—and D once again was baffled by the work that they had put into these games.
"Why is so much time spent on these things?" he asked aloud and was provided with an answer as he surveyed the area. Jim, earnest about his opinion that the children were just pulled into this, reiterated the simple answer he had provided before as to how it was all connected with their government structure, and that was where the boy stopped listening. It just seemed ludicrous.
Puzzles were no doubt hidden in those "stop" boxes, D surmised, and while the audience could clearly see dead ends, it would not be so for the participants. Two entrances were set up on one side, where there was only one pedestal at the end. Easy enough. Be a fast thinker, be good at directions, be fast physically, and you win. Not that wild, but still it posed a problem. He did not have to see Claire chewing on the nubs of her nails to know she was thinking the same thing. Bakura was…lacking…to say the least in directional abilities aside from all things East.
To the boy, things such as fate and destiny meant little. The fact they had gotten lost on more than one occasion when they had no place to actually "go" at all was a feat that had physically manifested before him in the shape of a perturbed young adult was enough proof to be concerned. They still were not sure of the consequences of a loss for Bakura, either. This could go one of two ways, and as D swallowed hard—clutching his left hand with his right and forcibly thinking only of the staging area—he refrained from imagining the worst for the moment.
As the challengers stepped out, the crowd provided them with a welcome that echoed throughout the stadium.
Bakura squinted once more in the light, shielding his eyes with his arm as he searched for where the children might be sitting. To his left, Jael tittered at his attempt. When he turned he was greeted with her vicious grin (confident in her win), and the announcer who had moseyed between the two. With the tilt of a hat, they greeted them both before turning back to the crowd, describing the rules and regulations of the Wild Card Games.
The game was literal. Three games randomly chosen (but approved by the Counsel) were set up within the maze. The first game decided who would get ahead early on, the second and third games were hidden deep within the winding walls to further stunt the players from moving forward too quickly, and to test the players on various abilities.
"Remember: Just because a player gets a head start, doesn't mean they always win the game!" The announcer pointed out, flourishing a gloved hand to the two participants. "Who could win, who could win? Who's an asset? Who's a burden? Let's find out!"
As Bakura shook Jael's hand for the last time before ascending the ramp that lead to this game, he noted that this would have been more fun if there had been cameras to show the audience where they were at, and a better view of what games they were playing. He probably would have watched it on TV; this sounded like it was like some of the game shows he and his friends used to watch when they had not actually been playing one. He only hoped he would recognize what the games were. Usually those without a strategy or an understanding of what was happening were doomed to lose.
"And remember, being clever is playing fair, but cheating is absolutely unallowed!" The crowd cheered while the announcer guided them to a raised table with a stack of basic cards upon it. They were smiling, but their voice had a deadly ring to it as Jael and Bakura were addressed. The microphone held limp at their side, the announcer gripped Bakura's shoulder and stared him and Jael in the eye as they spoke. "Steal when unprompted, and you will be known as a thief and untrustworthy; Make another's game inaccessible and be known as a coward; Purposefully harm someone, and you will be harmed in kind. Got it?"
"Yeah, yeah," Jael said, yawning. "Let's get this started. I've got a Counsel member to beat and only one more person in my way."
"How does all of that work, anyway?" Bakura asked, eyeing the pattern of the cards laid upon the table.
"You get a boon if you win this game, and if the seat you want is up for grabs your boon can be to challenge the Counsel member to take it," Jael explained before the announcer could call for the beginning of the game. "Since you're new, and not a fan of the place, you'll probably ask to be let go. I, on the other hand, have been trying for a while now."
"Surely you've won this game before?" Bakura tilted his head in inquiry.
"Oh, I've beaten plenty of people before. It's just I can never figure out that game she always picks. It sucks."
"Ah," Bakura said, understanding. "So that's why you think you're going to win this."
"I'm going to win," Jael replied, exuding the confidence she flaunted. "And you're going to help me beat her, and then I'm going to help you get out of here."
'Either way, it's a win for me,' Bakura thought to himself as he followed Jael's body language, hovering his hand over the cards. Yet, even though he did this with a look of assurance to match Jael's, he had no concept of what game was in front of them. It did not help that his eyes kept hovering to the two doors that opened into the maze. One would open before the other, based on the winner. With less fear in his heart because of the woman's promise, and the trust he had in his old friend, he was determined to enjoy himself.
"Let the games begin with the very first!" the announcer cried up to the audience who shouted and whooped back at them. "A speedy little game that is perfect to get our participant's blood pumping. And the blood of those who bet on one of them pumping, too! The object of the game is to match the cards in your piles with a number above or below the face up cards, flip the cards when you've used one until you've used them up, and have no cards left on your side at the end of the game. Oh, and make sure when you're done, you shout SPIT!"
The game's concept had been provided so quickly Bakura had barely enough time to register what the announcer had meant before the shout of "Go!" filled the stadium.
Sure, the idea was easy, and less strategic than many games he had played before, but it was like he was in a pool of syrup with how slowly he placed down cards compared to Jael. Clearly, she had played this many times. However, once he got the hang of it (after one round that ended with him completely confused as to why she had placed her hand upon one of the completed piles; she had been kind enough to point him to place his own hand on the slightly larger stack) it became clear that she would have a run for her money in starting the maze first. Bakura felt pretty confident in his ability to traverse mazes (he had drawn plenty for his Monster World campaigns), but he still wanted to have the upper hand in case anything unexpected happened during his time in there.
5, wait, 7, wait, 9, 10, Jack…The crowd was becoming louder as each round passed. Only those in a prime position for viewing could see how the game was going, but when a round was over, the whole crowd lost their minds, their money obviously on the line. If the children were there, their voices were drowned out as one massive shout as the game reached its end. Two piles, the probability of the smaller pile of cards becoming a larger stack a very low chance, and it was below the fingertips of Jael. Bakura took in a deep breath as he placed his shaking hand atop the large pile. Frustration coursed within him. This was a game, but in reality, once they left, he knew he would have to become faster. It was a game shoving his weakness in his face. Drawing his gun versus drawing a card: there was weight to consider, sure, but the perceptiveness to notice a hidden enemy? To have the jump on said enemy if they saw him?
His current rival left him to his thoughts as she bolted through the door. Bakura removed his hand from the pile of cards and walked over to the door. There was no need to rush. It would not open for another thirty seconds. In that time, he had to devise a plan on how to defeat this maze. Would he go for educated guesses, or a way to find the end that usually took longer, but ensured he would not get lost? Twenty seconds to go. Those other games, they would be individual, but the type of game was unknown to him.
"Has Mai Valentine made an error in judgement?" the announcer teased, getting the crowd riled up.
'No,' Bakura thought to himself as he listened to the jeers and shouts. Ten seconds. Nine. Eight. Seven. 'She hasn't.'
She had faith in him, and so did he.
When the door opened, he stepped through with a calm he did not feel. He wanted to bolt, to run through this angled maze of adjustable plywood and metal, but he wanted to get an idea of what would be ahead—the last thing he wanted to do was run headfirst into anything dangerous. Just because the two players were not supposed to hurt one another did not mean that the maze itself could not be dangerous. A modicum of caution was necessary.
The smell of paint surrounded him, and he walked forward to the first split in the maze. He raised his right hand slightly and pressed his fingertips against the wall. It was dry; but it must have been a newer panel. A new one, and it was just across from one that looked aged. If he could remember that, and he somehow managed to find his way back here, he would know that the maze could circle back with little confusion. He looked to the right and to the left and took in a deep breath to settle himself. Which way would be quickest?
He looked to his left and decided.
After the first two uneventful turns, Bakura picked up the pace. Each exhale jostled out of him as his boots hit the planking under him. He could hear the thumping of distant footsteps; Jael seemed to be ahead, but if he could hear her this close, he doubted he was that far behind. He took this as a sign that his previous caution had been a bit foolish and he hurried his pace to catch up.
The slight discoloration of the floor before him registered in his mind too late. A spring clicking out of place alerted him to the trap he had stumbled into. Pressing his foot against angling floor he tried pushing off it to escape the descent, to no avail. He tried correcting in mid-air while he felt himself begin to sink below the level of the raised floor they were playing on and promptly smacked his forehead against the plank that spoke of the true floor. Had this been a year ago, he would have plummeted to the ground about ten feet below, but his hands—while slower than Jael's—sprung into action even against the pain, and he heard gasps and groans as he clung to the edge of the base he had been running toward.
His head ached, the gash his forehead had taken was throbbing, but otherwise he was fine. With a quick glance he surveyed the area below him; a cushioned end, but it would have been a struggle to climb out of. He clambered out of the hole and in the hush that had befallen the audience came the ringing calls of encouraging voices he had been longing to hear. They were hardly intelligible, but he could tell it was them. They were rooting for him, and he did not want to disappoint. Inspired, Bakura shook off his dizziness and moved forward, at the same speed, but twice as cautious about the ground below him.
"Iron Jael has once again proven she will not be stopped so easily!" the announcer cried. "She is now attempting to get past the first great obstacle after winning her lead!"
'Damn,' he thought, still running. 'She's fast. She has the upper hand. She's played this before.'
'But I'm not going to give up that easily,' came another voice and he just barely skidded to a stop before running into another trap. He hopped over it even as he tried to shake off the shock. He did not know what that voice was or where it came from, but it as familiar as it was unsettling. Sliding under a pole meant to get in the way of a rushing player, Bakura felt as if he were becoming more in tune with his surroundings. It was beginning to feel familiar—just as the voice had. While it instilled a bit of fear in him, it inspired a fascination, just as in his youth, a yearning to answer the unanswerable. Unlike when he was younger, he was not about to let such questions go so easily. He pressed on, welcoming the instances where his body seemed in tune with his mind.
Dodge. Run. Slide. His movements as quick as a snake striking. As quick as a thief. Escape. Escape!
As sudden as the hole had appeared, the door to his next trial loomed before him. His chest heaved from his exertion, sweat beading at the back of his neck. In his heart he knew he deserved the grin that graced his face. He knew he had made it there in record time; he did not need the awed exclamation from the announcer, nor the murmured surprise from the city that held no love for him.
He did appreciate the muffled whoop that came from high in the crowd, however.
"And the nameless challenger has made it to his next obstacle!"
Bakura took a moment to catch his breath before pushing open the door. He was becoming acclimated to the pacing of this maze, and recalled from what the announcer had said, this area was meant to slow him down. Excitement filled him, helping him forget the pain in his head. Slowly, he was remembering why he loved games so much, and he could easily see why people loved this strange event, even if there was a bit of danger attached to it. It made for a great distraction; something to help forget just for a moment what had happened years before and what was now happening above ground.
He wondered if the people of The Arid Sea were just unfortunate byproducts of being unable to step away from the carnage once in a while. Then again, it was not like these people were very forthcoming about what these games meant to them, so he could not blame anyone for not wanting to participate. Yet, was that part of the test? He did not know.
The door slid closed behind him, a bright red door against the grey-green of the bulk of the maze. Bakura turned his attention to the room he was in and saw a door across from where he stood. A shape was imbedded, attached to the lock of the door. A puzzle then.
If he pretended, he could imagine White Mage Bakura following his adventuring friends through the trials of the vicious DM as they quested for new spoils and glory. He chuckled to himself and looked around for any hints as to how to open the door. This would be too easy for him.
The room was covered with picture frames and strange wall hangings. In corners, there were stacks of boxes that looked like they were built into the walls, possibly something to climb, but Bakura did not think that would be an answer. It had to be a trap of some sort. Beside the door was an image drawn on a piece of paper taped to the wall. He moved over to it and examined the drawing. Five lines were drawn, most of them in various sizing. The top two were red and yellow and of the same size, the middle was red again but extremely short, then the bottom two were both larger, first yellow, then red. This bottom piece was the largest.
Bakura directed his attention to the door, which had a circular shape and specific depths to each level. He nodded. Somewhere in this room would be pieces to answer this puzzle, but the image and the shapes were not quite the same. Still, he knew Yugi would have caught onto this one too quickly. He never would have used this in one of his campaigns, it was just too simple.
The lines denoted the levels, so there would be shapes around this room made of certain sizes to fit. If the actual shape was circular, then the best chance of it matching a line would be a birds-eye view. Bakura began looking around the room to prove this theory. It did not take long: in less than a minute he had collected a variety of shapes that had been hidden behind boxes that had looked built in (he was glad he did not attempt to climb it, they might have looked sturdy, but had simply been well painted cardboard), and a few behind the strange wall hangings. Shapes ranging from rods to stars to the circles he was looking for now littered the middle of the floor. He separated all the circles, and then separated the colors. There were red and yellow ones, making the puzzle even easier. He was fully ignoring the announcer, who was expressing distress for Jael—who must have had a harder puzzle or something—and discussing how Bakura was catching up. Something was strange about the leftover pieces.
Some had holes in them, while others were solid. He found a pair of each for each side. There were small pieces to put in the middle, but that would not work if he were to insert them into the door. He smacked his forehead and grabbed the red rod that sat beside a green square. Of course, he had almost fallen for an easy mistake. Bolting to the door, he was positive he had the answer. First the big red piece, then the red rod to keep it in place. Next yellow, then yellow, then red. It all fit and did not fall apart after he let go. He tried the door handle.
Success!
He once again checked his surroundings for any defining features before taking off to the left once again. As Bakura sped forward to his next goal he felt the achievement lighten his steps even as exhaustion threatened at the edges of his consciousness. Distant murmurs no doubt questioned his ability to complete such a puzzle so quickly without aid, but it did nothing to dampen his ecstatic mood. He had not cheated—prior experience had aided him. Nothing he needed to prove. A fond memory returned to him at that moment, having colored his sight with perception during the brief trial. He knew he had recognized the simple puzzle form somewhere. His sister had created a Monster World campaign with him once, at the fledgling moments of their fascination for the game, that had had a similar design. The biggest difference was the color scheme with Amane having preferred more confusion aided by their use of a toy they had shared in toddlerhood in creation of the puzzle.
Amane still always seemed to be there when he needed her. He took just a second to look up at the crowd, their shadowed faces looming over them by the droves, and swore once again he would be a better individual for the ones he cared for. Then, it was back to a focus he had forgotten he even had (and would need to use in the future) as he barreled through the maze.
"Oh my God, oh my God, ohmygod!" Claire shouted, leaping to her feet and let out a victorious shriek as Bakura shot ahead of Jael in the maze. D had mentally traced the solution for both sides, and they had been nervously watching (after his revelation) as both parties had muddled through the first bit. It was still anyone's game, but what had once looked like a poor start was now gearing up for something to get the crowd's blood beating.
All around them were shouts of surprise and dismay. It was not that there were not cries of excitement for the turn of events, but the favored player had finally met a worthy challenger. D gripped at his seat as he leaned forward, having to lean to the side to see the arena when the child in front of him stood up to have his own say. Claire, complete in her absorption in the event, grabbed her friend's shoulders and shook him.
"He's gonna win, he's gonna win!" she proclaimed, and D shook his head. This made her blink, stunned by such a response, and turn her attention back to the introspective boy.
D knew she demanded an answer even if her shock ceased her speech. "It's too early to tell, and the first one was a puzzle. The next one is small, and something the crowd cannot see. It may be something he is weak in."
"Oh, ye of little faith!" she spat at him. Still, she sat back down and held back her declarations of victory.
"He will win," Claire muttered, clenching her hands in her lap. "I can feel it."
"Don't get me wrong. I want him to win, too," D said, but her focus had returned to the main event, and she did not hear him.
Bakura's lead did not last long. Iron Jael was close behind. Her trouble had been finding the last piece, as she had accidentally kicked it away from her when she had been looking for another one. Once Jael got past the door she tore through the maze with some sort of sixth sense accuracy. This—compounded with the fact Bakura had to slow down, nearly missing hitting his head on a low beam when the side of the maze he chose lowered abruptly—put them within just inches of each other's progress. They reached the final door at the same time, both opening it with caution, which was smart, as when the door swung open, wires filled with just enough electricity to shock them (figuratively and literally) fell to greet them. Jael ducked and rolled, where Bakura leapt back and then crawled below them. The crowd gave a little whine of disappointment. They had wanted to see someone fall for that trick.
Yet, when both stood, the rest of the rooms they stood in were bare—aside from a small table with three cards provided, face down. Bakura recognized the backs of them instantly and wondered, with a small smile, how they would be applied. He moved to flip them over.
"For those who cannot see what our participants are viewing, on the tables they stand at are three cards chosen by the Counsel as final hints to escaping this maze." Some within the crowd grumbled, and this time D questioned the red-headed man.
"If they've seen this before, why are they irritated? Is this not normal?" D asked.
"Oh, it's normal," Jim replied, surprised that the boy had spoken up. "It's just that some people hate that they get hints at all. You see, there are three choices from here. Obviously, one eventually leads to the exit, known as the 'True Door', but there are two other options."
"One has to be a dead end," D said, eyeing the maze again. Even though there were three main choices at the end, there were still plenty of other ways open for the players to stray into. The player would not know until it was too late that they had chosen the wrong way.
"Yep!" the man said, beaming. "You're a smart one. Funny enough, more people have been tricked into picking the wrong door because of the hints the cards give. If you end up at that door, the game is done. You're stuck in a never-ending loop. The Counsel uses a variety of cards to keep the hints fresh. Sometimes they use the ones with numbers, others with the face cards; once they used Monopoly cards, go figure; and we don't get to know what cards they choose until the end."
"What's the third option?"
"Hidden Door."
Claire's eyes widened. "But that lady has played before, she's going to know this!"
Jim nodded. "The spots for the doors change, kiddo. So, do the hints. It's all fair."
"But, D's mo-uh, Baku-er, Uncle Bakura doesn't know!"
The man eyed her suspiciously. D spoke to drag his attention away from her strange response. Internally, he wanted to smack her. What was that sort of response? She was the one who even chose the familial ties in the first place!
"How do the hints come into play in the maze?"
"There are signs posted related to the cards. Sometimes they are obvious, and that's when it gets a little dull. Other times, it's too hard, and both people pick the wrong door. We are all still working on the kinks…"
"You've played before?"
Jim laughed. "All of the adults have at one point or another. At least, the ones who can."
"Oh." The boy leaned forward to try and see what was on the table. Even his eyes could not do anything but recognize there were three brown cards on the table, partially obscured by a wall. He was sure everyone else could see less. Unless they were part of the Counsel. The boy's eyes drifted up and was surprised to see that while two of the bright colored members' body language bespoke of unease, the woman in purple seemed almost amused. He was certain that was the one who had betted on Bakura, but if that was the case, what did she know about Bakura that he did not? She seemed as assured as Claire had been minutes ago, when he had had a clear lead.
His eyes darted back to the maze when he heard a collective gasp. He did not want to miss a thing. Just one more question.
"What happens when you lose?"
Bakura eyed the three cards on the table, contemplating their meaning. One was Dimensional Prison, the next was Harpie's Feather Duster. The last one was Swords of Revealing Light. He was not certain what they all meant, but he knew that they were clues. He figured he could have guessed that on his own, but thankfully the announcer had been more than helpful in noting that. Giving the room one final look, Bakura opened the last door to finish this Wild Card Game.
Immediately, he realized the purpose of the cards. Three cards for the three branches that he could take. He stood at the fork, turning his head to each entrance, wondering which one connected to which card. Unable to see any clues, he continued going left.
"It appears that Iron Jael and the Nameless one chose the same path!"
Wondering if that was a good thing, Bakura continued, picking up the pace for what was no more than a minute before he skidded to a halt. There was a piece of paper tacked to the wall. He tugged it down to get a better look at it.
Are you certain?
'Are you certain?' Bakura thought, scratching his head. He thought back on the cards. Nothing about them held that question, but it was enough to make him turn around. It must have been what Jael had done as well, as the announcer called—
"Neither party seems happy with their choice!"
Three cards. Three possible endings. Dimensional Prison was probably an instant Game Over, he considered, jogging back to the start. Harpie's Feather Duster was used to destroy spell and trap cards, so it was probably a good way to go. Swords of Revealing Light was used to stop attacks but also to reveal cards. It was also generally positive, if in your hand. If there were other written clues like the one he found, Bakura was certain it would make more sense.
This time he chose the right fork. Not wanting to waste time, Bakura hurried through the maze, but even as he passed by other splits, he did not find another paper. Nor was the announcer or crowd offering hints of their own. Everything had become deathly silent, the tension palpable.
D sat beside Claire, who was bouncing her leg to offset her nervousness. Even he could not help but twist a lock of hair around his finger, again and again. They had all fallen into silence, not wanting to jeopardize the validity of the player's choices. No cheating was allowed after all. Also, Jim had no idea what happened to a loser from the outside world. There had never been one before. The adult was not too concerned, but the two children in his temporary care were.
Jael was the one on track for the exit. It had been the route D's eyes had picked up on first.
Bakura had half a mind to turn around, to go down the middle path, but he had a feeling that if he did, Jael would win. More than just a little of Bakura's subconsciousness wanted her to experience some humility, so he pressed on. At any rate, if he had chosen the wrong way, he had lost.
Which is what he thought he had just done.
Panting, using his knees to right himself as he caught his breath, he looked at the three walls that denoted a dead end. He had been so certain that this had been the right way. Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, he stood, ready to accept defeat for a good game, when he noticed something on the wall just before him. Moving closer, it was a piece of paper painted the same color as the wall. He snatched it off the wall, nearly tearing it in two where it had been held up with clear tape.
Play your cards right, and you might gain the upper hand. The truth is in front of you, you only need to reveal it.
It had been the only hint he had seen. Even with a cursory glance, he knew it was the only hint along this path. He thought back to the cards. He reread the hint.
It was one of the positive ones. It had to be.
Which meant there was probably a way to move forward from this area, but how?
The truth is in front of you.
He frowned. There were only walls. Behind him was the winding walls of a maze with who knew how many options. He did not have time.
"The truth is in front of you," he read aloud. "You only need to reveal it."
"Play your cards right, and you might gain the upper hand."
Did he need the cards? Bakura had not brought them, but he did have the paper in his hand. In front of him was a wall, but with nowhere else to turn but to backtrack, he felt there was a chance that what he perceived as a wall, was not actually one.
Brushing his fingertips against the wall in front of him, he searched for a secret door. There was a very fine line down the center that had just missed being painted over, but when he pressed on the crack, nothing budged. He hmphed in aggravation before analyzing the clues again. If it had to be a card, with the word reveal, then it was probably—
"Swords of Revealing Light," he muttered to himself, and then looked up.
Whenever the game had been played with the holographic visuals activated, the swords appeared from above. Above to seal the offending monsters off from attacking.
Just out of his regular reach was a latch, hidden by the height of the wall. With a jump he flipped it over, and the walls swung open with such ease he almost faceplanted on the floor. As he caught himself, he heard a strange click to the left of him and a loud bang. He did not wait to find out what had happened. He bolted forward. The door, painted gold, had to be the end of the maze. There was something in front of it.
Everyone in the crowd gasped as a wall appeared before Jael in time enough for her to run into it with a loud bang. She stumbled backwards, a hand raised to cover her nose. Tears probably were springing from her eyes, but the boy observing the match doubted she had broken anything (although if she had run any faster at it, she would have). Moreover, the surprise obstacle did not hinder her from reaching the end, D noted, for if she chose to turn left, it was all the same. The opening still ended at the golden door, the exit to the maze. Yet, it did put a damper on her mad dash to the exit. Whatever Bakura had done had sealed her away long enough to put them neck and neck to reach the end.
It was no wonder that the whole crowd stood to watch the end result.
With legs pumping at a speed he rarely employed, Bakura pushed forward, the tepid wind of the underground maze pushing strands of hair from his face. He could see that opening the door was not inherently the requirement. Two buttons with obvious wires rigged to the door stood between him and his win. Based on how they had started, he knew which button was his. It was just up to him to get there before Jael. He would get his boon.
Filled with exhilaration, Bakura's arm raised from his side, his hand prepared to slam down on his button. He could hear Jael close behind him, mere feet away. His heart beat wildly in his chest, blood coursing through his veins with a flow to match his previous anxiety. In that moment, Bakura felt nothing but the excitement and thrill of competition that he had forgotten. He had managed to gain the upper hand, filling him with that same strange feeling in his gut that he got whenever he managed to best someone at their own game. It thrilled him beyond any other pastime he had taken on since the world had gone to pieces.
His hand lowered to the button with the speed he had desired at the beginning of the match, knowing his win would be uncontested and relishing the moment. Yet, in just an instant, he stopped. Bakura's hand hovered just inches above the raised button, as the sound of alarms went blaring through the stadium. He did not need to see the look of the crowd or hear the panic ripple amidst the cheers and jeers of those still immersed to know that this was an unnatural occurrence. Without looking back, he could tell Jael was of the same mind: she stood just barely behind him, the fury on her bruised face gone, replaced with a look of concern.
It felt unsportsmanlike to press the button now. Bakura pulled his hand away to rest at his side, raising his head to the lights shining down upon them. His eyes tried to pick through the dark shadows that was the crowd, once more looking for his family.
"Finish the game!" came a booming command from the Counsel box. The owner of that voice seemed in control of their emotions, but it was clear the demand was not due to an interest to see the winner of the match. Something out of the ordinary was happening. The audience all now seemed aware, and the muttering that had drifted in focus echoed in the chamber. Bakura stopped his search to check Jael's actions. She gave him an emphatic look that he did not know how to take. Then she grabbed his hand, slamming it with a bit of force onto his button, declaring him the winner.
"We'll do no good trapped in this stupid maze," Jael said, letting go of him to focus on opening the door in front of them. Her head turned just enough that Bakura could see her solemn glare. "And I'm not a cheater. I know when I've lost."
Bakura was at a loss for words. He stood there gaping at her, tenderly cradling his hand with the other. That had sort of hurt.
She saw his reaction and snorted. "You know what? I finally believe you—completely. Really. Anyway, let's figure out what the hell's going on."
Bakura nodded and followed her out. He knew that whatever occurred, he wanted to be reunited with D and Claire sooner rather than later.