Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or Vampire Hunter D.
I just realized that next Thursday will be the 10th year that this thing has been in-progress in writing.
That's crazy.
I hope that those of you still reading are still enjoying this! I am trying to see it through to the end, and I'm wondering if I shouldn't do something for it on Thursday. But what? Get a beta-reader, since it's been...beta-reader-less for ages? Lol.
Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter Forty: Bounty
The chilly introduction of spring that held the true season in its clutches brightened into balmy weather across the unclaimed plains. Rains peppered the land, streams that created streams of their own, leaving the vegetation tall and green. Large blades of grass swayed in the wind, petrichor warm and heady in the atmosphere, the gusts promising summertime weather before it was due. The animals unperturbed by the changes of the world rambled and roamed: bovine creatures acting as slow but efficient mowers, insects burrowing into softened dirt, while foxes and coyotes tore after jackrabbits and ground squirrels. Picturesque was an understatement for those who had survived a harsh winter.
Fluttering in the uplifting breeze of mid-morning, a crow cawed. Its brethren perched nearby, holing up in a nearby tree—one of the ancient few that had taken root upon the plains, before modernization took hold. Its feathers gleamed as it dipped and weaved in the undulations of air, projecting a large shadow upon the flowering expanse. Remnants of the morning dew glistened like diamonds upon petals and leaves alike; a welcome to the cloudless day.
Near the oak tree dotted with the crow's associates, a woman with hair colored as dark as the feathers of the flight-bound creature knelt. Pleating a vibrant red ribbon into her locks, she admired the view before rising, a wicker basket creaking against her waist as she lifted it skyward. Shifting its weight, the contents tumbling berry over berry, she paused in her journey when she heard a decidedly un-crow-like caw shatter the serenity of the scene. With a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, she observed a strange parade form upon the beaten road, edging closer to her abode.
Two children held the lead; although both tall for their age, if their young faces better denoted such things. The creak and squeak of their bicycles' wheels further announced their approach, punctuated by the sporadic thunk and clunk of when the scrappier of the two purposefully kicked off the occasional abandoned vehicle that remained on the road. The sound of laughter tinkled through the air, sweet as the ring of a windchime.
The one with hair like the night itself skid to a halt once they caught sight of her. They considered her with an expression holding the air of a cautious adult. At their silence, the other's laughter faded and with a swift kick, the light-haired one circled around to line up beside their pair. They stared in a way reminiscent of wild animals having their first interaction with human contact, the act punctuated as they curved their heads in tandem when another twosome emerged.
Almost at once they were flanked by the two adults who crested over the hill. One observed her with a critical eye, flipping blonde hair back haughtily in a show of confidence even in distrust. The other considered her with an almost bored look before raising their hand at the same speed their expression changed. In a high, sweet and clear accented voice they called,
"Good morning!"
At once the spell of suspicion broke. "Good morning!" she called back, raising her own arm in salutations. A brilliant smile spread across her face.
May 6, 2004
Finally, my life feels like how I envisioned it should. I'm told that I'm being too optimistic, and that my fortunes will definitely change—and while I agree, I'm still going to hold onto this feeling. This sense of freedom and joy is intoxicating. Yes, big word. Go get a dictionary, Claire.
What once felt like complete imposing fear, an oppressive presence that loomed over us just waiting for us to fail, has finally dispersed from our group. I don't know if it's because of the introduction of Mai to our ragtag bunch (because really, what else are we?), or because Bakura seems to have gained a confidence that is no longer as fickle as it once was, but never have I felt so sure that everything is going to be okay. I mean, it's probably not, but it's nice to enjoy life…for even just a little bit.
Sure, it's not "normal", but when have I ever known true normalcy? I'll take our travels to states that slowly lose their names as others cut out lands of their own over playing pretend in a classroom any day. By playing pretend, I mean feigning interest in subjects I've already mastered—I like learning new things along the way, and very much still enjoy playing the odd variation of Monster World that Bakura puts on for us once in a while. Claire and him have bonded over it. They take it way more seriously than Mai or I do.
Perhaps my confidence comes from the fact that even with everything that went wrong, I still found a friend in Mai (and Claire of course, but that's sort of obvious…we've been friends for a while now). She has been pretty accepting of me; maybe there's a chance that there really are more people like Sam and Bakura out there, who find the good in people like me. Maybe it feels like Bakura can now really protect me—I didn't want to go back with my father, Bakura refused to let me be taken, and here I am, still with him. All that, and my father's presence seems to be dwindling. A good sign. I think.
Thinking about that has brought up very conflicting feelings. Now that I'm not so afraid of being taken away, I remember my father, and I know he has done terrible things, but I know that sometimes he can do good as well. If we meet again, I want to prove to him that what he's doing…he's going about it the wrong way. Maybe I can talk him out of whatever his great grand ideas are before he does something that makes me find him irredeemable. I can hate what he does, and still want him to do better, right? Or am I just being naïve?
My personal companion believes that my father and I are of closer mindsets than I want to believe. Maybe it's because I'd rather emulate someone that I respect more than fear.
I wish I knew how Bakura feels about all of this. He seems happy, and I would like to take all of what I've seen at face value, but for the past few days he also seems to be preoccupied. With what, I am not sure. The last time this happened it wasn't a good thing, though.
As for our travels we've been doing these little loops, sometimes going north, and then south again, and then swinging back just a little bit to the west (different areas, not that they are very populated). We've met some interesting people along the way. There was a guy who holed himself up in a mountainside, taking pot shots at invisible foes. He called them crawlers. What they were, I couldn't tell. Neither could the others. Aside from that, he was a normal guy, and told us a tale about his time as a fisherman before he moved inland.
There was also a city that had been entirely taken over by the forest it was near. The people who stayed believed they were spared the worst of it, but still weren't able to manage maintaining what was there. They were really good at making clothes from what they had, though. It was fun to watch.
Then there was that couple we found. They weren't as lucky as the others. To be honest, I'd rather not think about it.
Basically, we never stay long and it's like we are doing anything but moving east, except of course we do. No matter where we are, eventually we must go that way. Especially if we don't want to run into my father again any time soon. Is Bakura trying to make our trail harder to track? Or is he just fighting against something he's refusing to speak about again? I don't know. Mai probably does. I hear them talk sometimes at night—nothing too serious, Bakura knows how well I can hear. I'm sure when Claire and I go off on our mini-adventures, they do then, too. Those talks are probably about things I shouldn't hear.
I haven't dreamt of anything lately…and to be fair, the last one I had is now so hazy that whatever sensation of doom it inspired is etched in memory rather than feeling. It's harder to feel concern for something that seems to no longer be a problem for me. Again, I don't know if he feels the same. I haven't bothered to ask him. Why bring up bad memories while we are making new, fantastic, ones?
I do know that we found bicycles the other day and that has been a lot of fun. I wonder why we didn't look for them sooner—although I don't see them working well if there's snow and ice on the ground. Not that there's any now. It's probably going to get hot again soon. Fun.
It's a nice morning now, though. So, there's no reason not to enjoy them. We (well, I) just must wait for everyone else to wake up. Not that we are in a rush to get anywhere or meet anyone. Keeping it short and sweet with people seems to be the best idea, anyway. It's not like we stay long or have much to offer. Or that they have much to offer us, either. We'd just get friendly, and then everyone would be sad when we had to leave. No need to repeat such things again.
Ah! Claire's awake! That means no one else will have much of a choice but to be awake.
Wonder what we will find today.
Bakura adjusted his pack as the rays of the morning sun attempted to blind the eyes of his merry little band. Not that he would consider it "his". No, this band belonged to them all. All outcasts in their own separate ways, brought together by circumstance. He did not like to consider it any type of fatalistic fate that drew them together—that was a concept he was in a continual war with—but rather a situation thrust upon them all; one that they dealt with in whatever measure they liked.
They were a collection of lost souls just trying to find a little happiness in the loneliness the world had to offer. Lowering his hand from the brief wave, his fingers brushed over the pin hidden under the collar of his shirt. A tangible reminder of the difficulties of finding permanence. The harder he thought on it, the more he dreamed, the more certain he became that he knew where he could find it. How to get there was an answer he did not have yet.
The children seemed content in their nomadic lifestyle, but that might not last. Mai followed out of necessity, grateful for her friendship as he was, he could see she was struggling with finding her place. Although, she was an asset whether she knew it or not. Claire began emulating her shortly after her informal induction, and this made the girl's wilder inclinations easier to monitor. D…D was rarely ever trouble; but that did not mean he was never trouble.
The fog of being in his own head lifting, he noticed that his group stood in an awkward silence beside him. A silence that he perpetuated, until he attempted to quietly clear his throat.
"Passing through?" the stranger before them inquired, shifting a basket of what looked like blueberries from one hip to the next. "We don't get many people out this way."
"Is that so?" Mai replied coolly, using her hand to shield the sun from her eyes. Even still, she squinted, her general posture as if she were in a western. She just needed D's hat. Bakura stifled a snicker.
The dark-haired woman smiled benignly. "Yep! Last one was a gal who decided to settle down here. Nowhere else to go, you know?"
"I suppose."
The woman, unperturbed, responded. "Well, if you are, we have a little town just that away." She pointed in the distance where, if one looked hard enough, the outlines of buildings lay across what appeared a long stretch of flat land. "I can walk you there. I live a little way's out. But I promised that I'd bring some fresh fruit to market."
"What's your currency?"
The woman's grin broadened. "We trade; item for item. We also have a little inn, not that it's used much…you all could kick up your feet and take a rest. Maybe a bath."
D's offended scoff and expression broke the tension on their side. Claire set to giggling and Mai could not help but let her serious face falter. Bakura felt it was time to begin pulling his weight as the other adult in the situation.
"Thank you for the offer," Bakura replied, as the tittering continued. "We may check the market, although we don't have much to trade. On our word we won't trouble you, or yours."
"Hm…That's an interesting thing to say. You've run into a bit of trouble?"
"You haven't?"
"Fair enough," the woman said, and let out a cheerful laugh. "The name's Malie King. Don't mind the grumbling folk when you get to town. They're not too fond of strangers, but they never much have been, even before the world went the way it did."
"Any pointers to making our brief stay a pleasant one?"
"Do yourself a favor and don't take anything personally. There are good people here, and if it's true that you don't mean to stay long, keeping to yourself would be the best bet. Buuut people always like it if you do them a favor."
"You sound so sure."
"Some of us were newcomers before the world changed," she said, winking at him as if in a conspiracy. "Just take it easy. Be friendly, and you'll get likewise. For the most part."
They arrived in town around noon, with only the most minor of resistance from the locals. The adults answered questions; short, sweet, and as vague as possible. Mai and Claire bunked in one room while Bakura and D rented another. They found the fresh food a welcome change. Bakura found the bath glorious.
The bathwater welcomed his weary muscles, as the sunlight glittered upon the mini waves he created while the name of the remains of the city stumbled across his tongue. "Okmu…r—okmul…"
"Gee," D snickered, calling at him from the other room. The boy chose his comfort by curling up upon one of the beds, a book that he had pilfered days ago from an abandoned library at his fingertips. The curtains were drawn. Deep shadows hung just beyond the light that came from where Bakura rested.
"I'll have you know that I was getting there," he huffed. "That was the easy part."
"Uh huh. Just accept that Mai's better at that than you are."
"…it's not a competition."
"Then why does my pointing it out bother you?"
"It doesn't."
"Does."
"She's had more practice."
D made a noncommitted noise before returning his attention to the unilluminated page.
Bakura rested the back of his head against the old but well cared for porcelain tub. The sounds of the town going about their day rang strange but comforting to his ears. Even the boisterous argument shattering the calm that came from a nearby shop seemed to work in-tandem with the rest of the hustle and bustle. This by far was the most relaxed place they had come across since…
"Oh, don't be too hard on yourself," D stated, out of the blue. "Here—take a verbal free pass to make fun of me if I ever mispronounce something."
Bakura leaned out of the tub, an annoyed glance aimed at the darkened bedroom. He could barely catch the outline of a self-satisfied grin coming from his ward. He wanted to be thankful that time, travel, and having actual consistent friends seemed to help the child open up; yet, it certainly brought out a side of D that he had never really given thought to. Perhaps the being in D's left hand was a bad influence. Or Claire; maybe they were balancing each other out. Then again, maybe D really did have a natural flair for being a pain. Or maybe it was just a symptom of growing up.
'I'm sure I was a pain in the ass sometimes, too,' he considered, raising a handful of water to pour over his face. He was well aware Mai was better than him in a lot of things. He was grateful. The traveling might have been wearing down on his own patience. He let the water fall over him.
"I want it in writing."
D laughed at his response before placing his book upon the nearby nightstand. Picking a place upon the doorframe to lean upon, D nodded his head in Bakura's direction, his focus upon the wall that separated their band. "How long?"
"Not too long."
D nodded. Taking up his hair between his fingers, he twisted the locks around to form a bun before hurrying back into the bedroom. Bakura busied himself with actual bathing, his mind buzzing with things they needed to get before they left again. Claire was low on ammunition. So was he. They needed more water. Some preserved food, or at least jerky. And, of course, blood. D was looking a little peckish.
"Is everything okay?" Bakura called, as he toweled off. D poked his head back into the doorway, his shirt wrapped around his arms.
"Yes," he said, an unexpected look of concern upon his face. "Is everything okay with you?"
"Why wouldn't it be?"
The boy opened his mouth as if to answer, and then closed it. He simply shrugged as he moved past Bakura and analyzed the soap provided.
Bakura began to motion for the boy, wondering what his concern was, when the raised voices pitched to yelling outside of their window. The two stopped what they were doing and hurried to either side of the window, blatantly eavesdropping. Thankfully, no one outside could see within, or would have cared to.
Bakura wrapped his hand around the brush poised at the edge of the sink, trying to calm his nerves. Those people outside were so heated, and the first thing his mind sprang to landed on the fact that their group were so new. What if this was about them? Were they being attacked? Every interaction he became quicker at jumping to action.
His concerns were alleviated almost at once when he forced down his instinctive need to protect and actually listened to the interaction. Apparently, someone had fallen through with a promise that had been made and the other was demanding it be made right. Bakura chuckled quietly to himself, flipping the brush between his fingers and running it through his hair as he listened. It was not like they had a working television in the room to watch instead. D's dark eyes widened with flabbergasted glee as he heard a particularly vulgar spew of words pour from the most vocal of the arguing bunch. Bakura raised an eyebrow. Another word learned, and one he would probably repeat to Claire behind hiding hands. The young man imagined the snickering.
"You know how fucking hard it's been, you prick! Losing my—If you don't get my goddamn horse back, you'll need a goddamn funeral ticket for your sorry-ass body!"
"It was an accident, you asshole!"
"Going out for a joyride and getting bucked off for being a lying, useless, drunk piece of shit doesn't count as an accident! You get it back or get someone else to! Otherwise—"
"Now, that's enough." A new voice entered the fray.
"C'mon Sheriff. He lost my fucking horse! You know how much it takes to feed those things? How hard I've been trying to keep it alive? You know what I do for this place, right?!"
The pair looked to each other, memories shared without a word spoken. Cautious excitement filled D's eyes. Bakura cocked his head as a grin formed on his lips. Sounded like a rather innocuous adventure beckoned.
"Do you remember how to ride a horse?"
"You really have to ask?"
As D prepared his toiletries for his particular method of grooming, Bakura dressed and found the grumbling, horseless fellow sitting not far from where the argument dispersed. At first, being so new, he had a bit of trouble talking the man into the idea. What baffled the stranger, known as Scott Richardson, was that Bakura offered his aid but requested no recompense. There were no strings attached but a friendly gesture. Bakura kept his mouth closed about the hidden string; his ensuring the safety of at least one of his own through trust and kindness. Eventually, it became their task to find a missing horse, for the simple gratitude of one of the townsfolk.
Once hearing of the outing, Claire demanded to take part. Mai weighed her options between lounging in their rented room and getting a lay of the land (which would tire out their charges). She reluctantly agreed, if only to be nearer to those she trusted.
Being so innocent a quest, the children rode a little further forward, but not out of sight of the adults as they searched for the missing equine. Claire weaved back and forth as she told a tale of how she had started a war with pillows, forcing D to take unneeded precautions to get out the way of her aimless bicycle.
"And then I was like whoosh, and she was like pew pew pew, but she was pointing the wrong way so—"
"Claire-chan, we are in the room right next to you. I heard it all."
"Yeah, but you didn't see it."
"You're just shouting sounds; I'm not seeing anything. We have to be careful to not spook this horse. You wanted to see a horse, right?"
"Uh…duh?"
Mai stifled a quiet chuckle. In all her life, she never imagined this would be how things would turn out. Thankfully, all of the terrible things that had occurred felt distant when faced with children acting like children.
"Do you know who they make me think of?"
Bakura turned to her, and she saw in his eyes that tired look oh-so-familiar to any who had experienced the strangeness of the Millennium Items. To anyone else, they might assume the look originated from having to deal with two upcoming pre-teens. If only.
It had been hard for her to accept that her life was not through with a magic that had caused her great terror, but she was no longer the same woman she had been back then. The Mai she was now forged friendships with people she would have never opened up to before. Even lead them. Then leave them. She missed the people she had grown close in those four—almost five years. She missed her outfits, too.
Regrettably, riding a bike decked out and in a skirt was not a viable option. A motorcycle on the other hand…
She turned her attention back to her friend from years past. There was a big difference in his tired look now. The light caught in his eyes as he grinned at her; he knew.
"Only difference is that no one is caught in a headlock," Bakura said. "Thanks again for coming."
"What else was I supposed to do? Leave you to manage the two of them alone?"
He laughed. "Touché, as they say."
"Don't be so hard on yourself, I'm only joking," Mai said, flipping her hair back so it caught in the wind. It was a nice day, she noted. The sweet smell of wildflowers perfumed the air, growing between the cracks of unkept roads. She viewed their struggling but resilient forms with delight. Even the empty remains of the buildings that lined the outskirts could not sully the mood. As she wheeled her bike past a split in the road, her mouth formed an 'O' of surprise when her eyes were drawn to a rare but pleasant sight.
The animal they were tasked to find, a chestnut brown Quarter Horse, carefully stepped around some broken road to chew at the grass growing between. She could hear it snort from where they stood, their bikes at a standstill. It looked so peaceful, but for the saddle that still sat upon its back. It must not have been fastened correctly. While tight enough to remain on the creature, odd position of the saddle's horn denoted someone had fallen—and it was most likely not the horse's fault.
"What was its name again?" She wondered aloud.
"Ember," Bakura said, his voice calm, his movements slow. "Remember, we aren't going to surround him. We don't want to scare him off, or any further away than he's made it. Claire, that means you wait before you pet. We're strangers to him."
"Fiiine," Claire responded, crossing her arms. "I'm here to keep an eye out on which way it might run. I get it. I do get to pet it at some point, right?"
"Eventually," Mai said. "The last thing we need is one of us to get kicked."
"Why does D get to help?"
D turned to his friend with a placid, straight expression. "Because I can ride a horse," he said flatly. He then quickly stuck out his tongue at the girl before moving to Bakura's side. Claire stuck her own out, and Mai rolled her eyes. If this was how they acted as friends, she did not want to know how they had interacted beforehand.
"Boys," she heard Claire mutter under her breath before stomping over to where Mai waited patiently. As her job was completed, she simply got to enjoy the show. While horses could be beautiful to watch, she had little interest in taking part in catching the thing. The dangers of a spooked one outweighed the interest. She was not entirely sure why D was a part of the capture process. Dhampir or not.
"I'm sure the owner will let you try riding Ember when we bring him back and he's been cared for," Mai soothed.
"'s not the problem. Why does he always think he can do stuff better than me?"
With that, Mai laughed. "Oh honey," she said, shaking her head. "That's been a question that every girl has asked at least once in her life. It's awful, but most men think they know everything."
"They don't," Claire huffed.
"You're right, they don't," Mai affirmed. "But I don't think that's quite what's going on here. I think he might just think because of his upbringing he might be better suited for it."
"He doesn't have to be a butthole about it."
"Fair enough. I'll have a talk with him."
"Like that'll do anything," Claire moped. "Hey, Mai? Do you ever think Bakura thinks like that?"
"Like what?"
"That boys are better than girls?"
"Him? No." At least, not the guy she hung around with right now, Mai mused, and he had not seemed that way years ago. In fact, he seemed to rely heavily on Claire's abilities when it came to hunting for them all. Claire had better aim than either Bakura or herself with a rifle, almost at one with the weapon slung across her back. Then again, it was always harder to see your own self-worth than it was for others.
"Then why does he always ask for D's help first? I lived all by myself before they found me. I can handle lots of scary stuff alone."
"That, I couldn't say."
"Come on, Mai! It's true. He doesn't think I can do anything!"
"Can you lift a horse if it falls on you?" Bakura asked, resting his bicycle and backpack beside the talking pair. As benign as the question seemed, Claire did not take to it well. Mai sensed what could be the best chance at catching the horse teetered on the girl's vocal disposition. Mai narrowed her eyes, warning him to correct the situation.
Tilting his head at her, he signaled he understood. "I'm not trying to leave you out, Claire-chan. I have faith in what you can do. I just don't want you to get hurt."
"But I listen! I'm good at stuff!"
"I admit you're better at listening than when we first met but—"
"It's not fair!" she whined. "I'm not the one who doesn't listen to important stuff, gets hurt, and then makes it so we have to leave a place!"
Silence overtook the day, with only the horse's faint and distant munching taking up the air now heavy with her words. D looked to his friend, having been able to hear it all—not that he needed his abilities to, Mai thought—and the blatant hurt could not be hidden by the speedy recovery of a straight face. It seemed there were some unspoken issues brewing beneath the surface. Now, in the vast unknown expanse, was not a great time to deal with them.
Bakura's expression clouded over at the girl's proclamation. "Have you seen a horse?" he asked, almost punctuating each word.
"Yeah…"
"Live?"
"…Today."
"Can you ride one—with confidence?"
Claire finally caught on to the disappointment in Bakura's low tone; the emotionless look upon D's face. Understanding what her words had done made her short in her honesty. "No."
"That is the reason that he is helping. I'm only okay at riding, and there are some things I know I've forgotten. He caught on faster, and remembers more than me. It will be safer for everyone. Understand?"
"Yes."
"Then apologize."
Claire faced D, who waved the idea away with a hand. "Don't need it," he said, his rely shorter and faster than Mai had ever heard it. "Let's go before it runs."
Bakura nodded. Mai hung back with Claire as the two of them approached the animal with care, and when she heard the first set of sniffles, she lent a comforting hand upon the girl's shoulder.
"I didn't mean to make him sad," she whimpered. "I was just mad."
"Sometimes we have to watch our words, even when we're mad," Mai reflected. "We can do worse damage. We can't know everything. But give him a little time; I think he'll understand you're sorry."
"I'm not really mad we left, sorry Mai; I hate that he got hurt that time. He always tells me to think before I do stuff, and then he does stupid shi…crap like that."
Bakura, who had sent D around and further ahead, caught remnants of the discussion. He closed his eyes and sighed, a little out of frustration, but mostly out of unspoken compassion. Bakura knew full well that exact emotion and how stressful it could be. As Mai wiped away the streaks upon Claire's tear-stained face, Bakura shook off a sense of nostalgia. Once again, albeit the first time in a long while, she reminded him of his sister.
"Get your head back into the present," he growled at himself. A sense of agreement spread through his body. Too much had he, in every iteration, spent time ruminating about the past. Too much time…any more would be his downfall.
Focus shifting onto D, Bakura motioned with a hand to have him readjust his position. He did not think the horse would bolt, but the last thing he wanted was for the boy to be directly in the way of the cautious creature. Or in a blind zone. The boy naturally moved so silently the grazing equine had yet to notice him. Bakura gave him a thumbs up when he felt the boy was a safe enough distance away from an impact point. Then, he moved.
"Ember," he called, trying to have the horse look upon him, gauging how relaxed it remained. It did look to him…and then went straight back to the grass. Bakura's arms, slightly raised in excitement when it looked to him, dropped in that instant. Ignored by a horse.
"Come on, Ember, I'm a friend. I'm going to take you home," he cooed, feeling ridiculous that he felt the need to explain himself to the animal. It glanced again, but did not move toward Bakura. However, he did not move when Bakura came closer, so there was a silver lining.
"Good Ember," he said, close enough to smell the sweat that had accumulated on the poor thing. Whatever had happened for it to buck the previous rider off must have frightened it quite a bit. With an unwavering hand, he touched the creature's shoulder. Ember tensed, moved his head in Bakura's direction, sniffed his empty palm, and then went back to foraging. Bakura let out a sigh of relief.
Taking his time, remembering what he could from his brief stint in tending horses, Bakura undid the saddle belt and checked the whole thing over. While the leather looked a little worn, nothing appeared broken. He let out another soft sigh, doing all he could not to disturb the horse during the rest of his check, hopeful that he would be the only one necessary to handle the situation. Safety came first.
Finding the horse rather amiable, Bakura's own disposition brightened. He even found that he had better luck tightening the saddle to its appropriate place than his other equestrian dealings. Giving Ember a gentle pat, Bakura murmured a quiet thank you.
"Look out!" D's alarmed cry rang out, breaking the peace.
Bakura snapped to attention. He heard the creature before he saw it. It snarled, and in his mind's eye Bakura could see something's powerful muscles bunching, ready to attack. Reality mimicked his thoughts, its form loomed for an instant behind one of the deserted buildings before darting into sight, a stuttered yowl gurgling from its throat. Whatever it was had traveled far to find this mostly untouched land. He would not hazard to call it a mountain lion. No, it appeared young enough to have been birthed by mutation, possibly somewhere from the north. It was alone. And hungry.
The horse took off at the commotion. The predator wriggled once, twice, in preparation to follow after it.
"Shit!" Bakura pulled out his revolver, knowing his shots were few, and swung the gun back toward the pursuing beast. He took a half-guessed aim and fired, catching the beast in its side. While it growled in pain, it kept moving. Thankfully, not towards the horse.
Unfortunately, its body contorted, twisting its path to lead straight to Bakura.
"Get it to face me!" Claire shouted, whipping her rifle from its place over her shoulder, kneeling into position without a second thought. "I wanna see its eyes!"
Mai ran forward, hefting a chunk of broken road she had found in the creature's direction. "Hey shithead, over here!" she cried, almost tripping upon something long and dented that had made the road its final resting place.
If the asphalt had not connected with the wound already placed upon its hide by Bakura's bullet, Mai thought it would have kept going, and would have succeeded in its purpose. With what she deemed great luck, the concrete had smacked into the injury straight on, a shadow of bloody droplets spraying in the air as it connected. Now its enraged rampage faced her. And Claire.
"Can you—" the words had barely passed her lips when a bullet whizzed by her, nailing the gnashing thing directly in its eye. It made a strange cry in pain, and stumbled. Not risking it regaining its footing, Mai snatched up the thing she had smacked her foot into—piping of what had been part of a stop sign. With all of her might and weight behind it, she slammed the end of its twisted metal into the end of the creature's remaining eye. She shuddered as it made its own quivering attempt to hold onto life.
"Are you okay?!" Bakura shouted, running towards them. Mai nodded, pale and amazed. The blotchy fur beneath her glimmered with dark blood, and as she released the pipe the structure remained in position, fully lodged in the thing's head.
"Claire?" she called, unaware if there were other things like this out there. Behind them. Killing.
"Fine!" the girl called back. "Where's D?"
Bakura spun around, realizing he could not see the boy. Everything had happened so fast. Claire and Mai followed suit, searching the wide expanse, knowing only one side had places to hide. With every second, impending doom weighed down upon them.
A distant clearing of a throat caught their attention. "Here."
They wheeled around like prairie dogs to face the source of the sound. D sat atop the horse, taking it at a canter back to them from around a wall overtaken by overgrowth, a self-satisfied smirk smeared upon his face. His hair, windblown, fluttered back to his shoulders as he pulled up beside them.
"Got the horse," he said. The stirrups dangled at Ember's sides, too long for the boy's legs. Still, he sat upon the saddle with a sort of dignity that everyone else felt they lacked thanks to the recent commotion.
"So, you did," Bakura breathed in awe, and then laughed. "Might want to get it away from this thing before it gets spooked. Claire, go with him. Mai, a little help here?"
"Help?" Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "With that thing?"
"I can't say I'm great at skinning things, but we could probably trade it for something, right?" He rubbed his chin, looking at the beast with a curious eye.
Mai balked. "You can't be considering—eating it?"
"Yes…no. Kind of."
"It doesn't look normal!"
Bakura shrugged. "I'm beginning to think we are going to start seeing things that 'don't look normal' more often. Also, I'm not asking you to eat it."
Mai rubbed the back of her head. "I don't get it. Why?"
"Why?"
"Why would you need to eat it?"
With a look of exasperation, Bakura motioned for her to come help him. As they began the process of cutting into the creature, he elaborated.
"I've got to check it."
"But why?"
He looked at her. "You know why."
As the adults managed the skinning and gutting of the thing that had been on a hunt of its own, Claire stood a little way from D, eyeing the boy on the horse as she grated a rock against the road.
"Can I pet it?" she asked, pointing a curious finger at the animal who pawed at the earth impatiently.
D raised an eyebrow in careful thought before settling the horse. "Let it see you—and be gentle."
The delight upon her face when she placed a hand upon it was only overshadowed by the squeal she tried to hide when D offered his hand. Before Mai or Bakura could protest from their vantage point, Claire had been lifted to sit in front of D. Her bright eyes marveled over the majestic creature and her seat upon it. For a moment, she could only sit there, her hands pressed to either side of her face as she tried to contain her glee.
"This is so much cooler than a bike!" she squeaked.
"Listen to me when we move. Don't fall off."
It appeared the previous spat between them had been forgotten—or swept under the rug—as D guided the quarter horse around in a wide circle with Claire running her fingers through its long mane. Laughter rippled between them as the horse chose to relieve itself during one of the turns, and both adults sighed in a bit of relief as D kept the horse at a slow and steady pace. Once finished with their task, Bakura and Mai collected their things and signaled for them to return to the main hub, following just behind them with the bulk of their gear and findings strapped onto the empty bicycle seats. For the oddities of this new world, they were grateful for just a regular day.
Only when they returned to town, did they realize what had occurred. Bakura, knowing they did not have time to dry the skin, assumed he would have a great struggle in selling the thing and asked Mai to handle the horse's return. Mai agreed to monitor D as he purposefully plodded his way to Ember's owner. Claire refused to get off the horse, basking in every second she had riding it.
He made his way to the general store—a former grocery market with the metal sign ripped down and, in its place, held a flapping canvas sign reading Ok Goods. Bakura expected the odd stares, as he was carrying the remains of a dead animal, but did not expect for someone to let out a strangled shriek. He took in his surroundings and wondered if they had done something wrong.
Bakura spotted Malie, who had just finished setting up her store of berries in their place and was now giving him a peculiar look, and lifted his free hand in a tentative wave. She failed to return it. No, not from any of the stunned faces could he tell if his choice had been a blunder.
"Did…did you really kill it?" an awed voice asked from behind him. He turned to see an older man bedecked in a loud work shirt pointing at the incomplete pelt.
"It…attacked us?" he said, lamely.
"Every day I swear I seen everything," murmured the man, turning back to the wall of necessities, "and every day something new comes to laugh."
"Are you all okay?" Malie asked, seeming to snap out of her stupor.
"We're fine. I—We…it attacked us."
"Of course, it attacked," called the store clerk. "Haven't you read the board?"
Malie waved the clerk's words off as she motioned for the heavy load resting on Bakura's shoulder. "You know well enough he's new. No new person ever reads that board. They never have."
"Yeah, but back then it wasn't anything but town meetings and events. Now it's got a bunch of important warnings, and reminders."
"And bounties," added the man in the bright shirt.
"Bounties?" Bakura looked from the skin, to Malie, to the skin again. They were kidding, right? This was not some quest formulated for Monster World that the NPCs happen to complete before getting to town…
There was no way.
"Don't know how you all took care of Ember and dealt with our bounty here in less than a day but we all appreciate it nonetheless," Nathan Bell, the newly inducted sheriff of the city, said a little while later to a still bewildered Bakura and company. They stepped out of his office into the afternoon glow, people already passing by the establishment at an alarming rate to look at the ones who had slain the beast that had been causing them hell in the recent months. Word spread fast.
"Glad we could be of help," Bakura said, his voice still hinting at the bafflement that held him in its grasp. Claire waved and one of the children that passed by and got a wave in return. D hung back, happy to sit in the shadow of the others instead.
"You sure you don't want to stay a little while longer?"
"Just a day, or so," Bakura replied, scratching the side of his head. He worried that the tougher questions were coming their way. "We're moving on."
"You sure?"
"Yes, sorry."
"Really sure?" The sheriff looked to Mai, who gave a nod.
"Positive," she said, folding her arms, falling back into previously discarded ways to shield herself from the idea of leaving. Bakura looked to her in concern.
Disappointment clouded Bell's face. "Well then, we will need to give you all a nice send off. We had plans, anyway, for the person who did the mutant-cat in."
"Oh, you don't have to—"
"I insist. We all insist, probably. Be sure you all rest up well and head down to the fairgrounds tonight."
"Will do," Bakura said, bowing his head in a brief goodbye. The others began leaving, but the sheriff held onto Bakura's shoulder, keeping him in place for just a minute longer.
"I wondered why your kids had weapons on them, but it seems like you all have things figured out."
The young man smiled. "We try."
"You stay safe out there."
"We will. Thank you."
When the sheriff spoke of plans, none of them gave the idea much thought. When the quartet arrived at the fairgrounds, their eyes bugged out at the decadence, and generous display of thanks that had been put together in such a short time.
Tables of food were laid out, with a band of people prepping to play for the night. Nothing there would go to waste, but the sheer amount spoke of how many attended, and how many donated to the cause of thanks. Based on prior experiences, three of the four could hardly believe their eyes. Greeted by strangers who treated them like family, they moved between pockets of people who wanted to meet them. Hands needed shaking, stories of the havoc the beast wrought needed telling; they were tugged this way and that on their way to speak with the few they did know.
Separated just as the practice thumps and twangs began, each found their way to a different attraction. Claire had found a dog, and dragged all the children she saw to it, to set it to play. This included D, who had all but clammed up under the fast-paced revelry. At the other end, dresses fluttered by in search for their dance partner, and those in their best suits did their best to capture their attentions. Bakura stood beside Mai for a time, eyeing the food selection from afar. Mai watched the laughing citizens with a wistful gaze that was not unnoticed by her friend.
"Almost makes me think of them," Mai said sadly, toying with her pin.
"You could stay if you wanted," Bakura whispered to Mai. She promptly shook her head.
"I chose to go with a friend. I stick by my friends. Isn't that what you all blathered on about before?" Mai teased, her gentle hug of appreciation acting as assurance before she darted off in search for a dance partner. One that preferably would not find food more appealing.
Bakura waited a minute, and then booked it to the buffet table just before everyone got into place. It was a good a place as any to watch the formal thank you, given by the sheriff, drink in hand; and far enough away from the actual designated dance floor. He chuckled to himself, plate in hand, as he watched Mai swing Malie around in the first dance of the night. Everyone appeared to be having a joyous time, but he could not recall the last time he had partaken in a homemade creampuff. No, he found contentment in watching the dance build and eating to his heart's content.
"Can't get over this, I guess." He heard someone mutter and turned, still chewing to see Bell sidestepping over to him, a glass of the precious remains of soda in his hand. "Why are you moving on," he asked, his jovial expression fell serious as he set the drink aside on the covered table. "No one scared you off here, did they?"
"No," Bakura said, swallowing quickly. "It's just our way."
"Surely it can't—"
Raising his hand in a slight silencing motion, Bakura shook his head. "Whatever you're going to say, we've heard it. I appreciate that you all are so kind, and I hope that you are all able to build this place back up to what it used to be. We just have some things to attend to that aren't in this town. Places to see before we settle down."
"You guys are all out there sightseeing?" Bell asked, surprised. He rubbed at the dark stubble on his chin, his tanned finger running almost a circle as the man thought. "That's pretty dangerous."
"Everywhere is pretty dangerous," Bakura noted, quickly turning away, using his thumbnail as a toothpick.
"Yeah, guess you're right."
"But…"
Bell laughed. "You've got me read pretty well. But doesn't seem like it would be worth the possible heartache."
Bakura shrugged. Watching Mai trade off with another, spinning with a flourish, he formed a half-grin. "We all have our reasons for the choices we make."
Bell followed his eyes. "You two are…"
"Friends." He laughed. "If you want to dance with her, just ask. She's the picky one, not me."
Bell guffawed. "Maybe I will. Watch my drink for me?"
"I'm not moving, so sure."
As the man took off his hat to pay Mai a quick visit, Bakura busied himself with another platter. When he turned around, he jumped nearly an inch off the floor. D stood there facing the crowd, rather perplexed, as he picked off dog hair from the front of his shirt. Looking around, Bakura saw Claire playing tag with the others. Forking potato salad into his mouth, Bakura nudged the boy, who looked up at him with a weary look.
"You done playing?" Bakura asked.
"Yes. I smell like dog."
"Did you have fun?"
The boy looked out into the crowd with a blank expression. "I had fun playing with the dogs."
"You didn't want to play tag?"
A hint of a smile graced his face. "Didn't think it would be fair."
Dropping his attention from his plate, Bakura rested a hand upon the boy's head. He reflected that the boy was much taller than when they first met. His hair still felt just as smooth, though. He always seemed to be cleaner than the rest of them, even when the all cleaned up.
"Bakura-sama," D said, interrupting his thoughts. His eyes faced the crowd as if watching the others have their fun, but the distant stare denoted his mind was clouded with other matters. "I don't think I'm cut out for interacting well with people."
"Is this coming up because of what Claire said?"
The boy shrugged, tugging at his shirt cuff. "It's something I thought of before; it's not like I had many children to speak with…that I remember." His brow furrowed. "She just brought it up sooner than I wanted. I wasn't ready to think on it."
"I know it's hard," Bakura commiserated. "It is."
D blinked in surprise. "You feel like that, too?"
"All the time," he breathed, watching the frivolity. Noting how the old-fashioned lighting seemed to draw them back to a different time and place. "Always have. I just never know what to say or what to do, and the last thing I want to do is make the wrong choice. Just because I'm terrible at holding a conversation with the everyday person doesn't mean I don't want friends."
D nodded his head with enthusiasm. "It's hard to find things in common with people like me, because…they aren't."
"That doesn't mean it isn't worth it to try. Just try your best. Sometimes, it even works out. But it's not good to hold everything in—"
"You do all the time."
"…I'm not the best role model," Bakura said, laughing.
The boy's next breath almost sounded like a chuckle. "What a thing to say, especially after giving me advice. I'll consider it."
"Go out there, have fun!" Bakura nudged him forward.
"Okay, okay!" D exclaimed, stepping away. He turned on his heel a few feet in front of Bakura and motioned to the man. "I'll dance, if you dance," he added, the dare in his eyes prevalent.
"I bet you already know how."
The boy giggled. "I don't think any of this looks remotely like what I am familiar with."
"Oh yeah, they're flailing," his hand quipped, and Bakura was shocked to see a small grin plaster itself on D's face.
"I know you've been worrying about something, D-kun," Bakura said, leaving the plate beside the already watered-down remnants of cola. "We will do what makes us all happy, in the end. Just like we promised. We just have to work together to find out what that actually is."
"Yes," D agreed. "With that…you go first."