Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or Vampire Hunter D.
Well, things did get more hectic in life, so this is coming out later than intended.
Thank you, guest, for the sweet review. If you make it to this chapter I hope you enjoyed the story thus far.
That goes for all my readers, too. Please enjoy!
Chapter Forty-Six: Deals
July 26, 2004
Saccharine. That is the word that best sums up the tone that some in the group are trying to press upon us. And I mean that in the most negative of connotations.
Claire agrees with me, but some of that might come from her clear dislike of Amami. She gets along well with Etsu and some of the adults, though, so it's not like she hates everyone. We just both hate this…fakeness…that has permeated what was once "our little community". Now it's one big—
I'm not going to write it. Nope. Because if she reads this, she's going to proudly spout it to Amami and that's just unnecessary.
Why we must baby some people's feelings over others is absolutely ridiculous, however. I understand the precautions we take with Kaiba, and although I am shocked Bakura is actively aiding a group of people who left us behind, I don't blame him. That's like saying I should have had a burning hatred for Amami consume me once I saw her again. Which just didn't happen.
What I felt at that time was just…memories of her hateful stare, and that feeling of loneliness that I get from time to time. Yet, I was also ecstatic to have my friend back, and appreciative that she wanted me as her friend again. I hadn't realized how much my words had affected Claire's point of view, though. While I've forgiven Amami for what was an honest human reaction, she just hasn't. And she likes to remind Amami constantly about how she's a better friend. Jealousy, based on friendship or otherwise, isn't very becoming.
That you can read, Claire.
Her dad is a giant dick, though.
I'm just saying.
(I remember him being so nice. You'd think he'd be over it by now. It wasn't Bakura's fault vampires came after Wanatabe's family. He can be mad at me all he likes, but he shouldn't still be taking it out on the guy who tried to help him.)
Also, against all her boasting, I've known Claire around the same amount of time as I knew Amami—I've just spent more time with Claire because…well, we are both being taken care of by Bakura. Common sense would dictate that she'd know more about me, especially since she—you if you're reading this—has had access to my inner thoughts.
Although thankfully, she hasn't read too far back.
…Don't start.
For the record, I'm not blaming Bakura for any of this strange tiptoeing. If anything, our core group has not changed in how we interact. That doesn't mean that we don't feel the atmospheric change, however; or recognize how there's something following us now. Claire says she can't see them, but she can feel their presence. She can tell that there's something there, and that when one moves it leaves a hint of itself behind, but as for an actual visual…she says she just imagines it as a giant invisible slug that slimes up the perimeter of our camp. I laughed at that. I don't know; it was just funny. I just imagined this harmless slug just oozing around with like a little hat on. I don't even know why I imagined a hat on it.
Mai says she only gets an uncomfortable sense that something is off, something that isn't directly tied to the dance Yugi's group (might as well call it that) goes through when interacting with each other. However, she is more concerned about the undercurrent of strained behavior between our supposedly joined communities rather than the moving shadows she cannot see. Perhaps she has divvied up what to watch out for with Bakura already.
Personally, it's like seeing a shadowed person move out of the corner of my eye. A person made of just an absence of light that phases in and out of existence but is especially active at night. Bakura seemed surprised when I told him that I could see it. But how could I not? It's right there.
Then again…the way it moves…It makes me think of those dreams I haven't had in a while. I wonder what it means. I wonder why, now, all of the sudden it—
D snapped his journal closed, a dirty look marring a once serene expression. The bickering could be heard from a mile away, regardless of how keen his ears were naturally. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose before rising from his secluded seat atop a hunk of slate that offered any who rested there a view of the eastern sea.
To his left, down on the beach proper, stood two children of similar age locked in a shouting match in a near mirror of what had occurred with a pair of adults the night before. The sun shone upon the wet stones of the rocky shoreline, although distant cloud cover made its way across the sky, promising to douse them all in a familiar gray scene. D slid down the boulder's rounded edge and landed upon the wooden staircase built into the craggy cliffside with a graceful step. If he did not wish for this to continue for the rest of the day, he had to stop their disagreement now. Etsu was also good at that—she was a child that appreciated smiles and good times and not much else—but she was busy learning how to read with her father back at camp.
The boy struggled to understand why the two girls were so intent on disliking each other; based on his memory, and unspoken desires, he had thought they would have been the best of friends. Amami was usually so gentle and sweet. Claire was so animated and outgoing. They should have been better friends than he could have ever been for either of them. But to his dismay they just kept—
"No, I didn't!"
"Yessss you diiid!"
Arguing.
Instead of turning toward them, he swerved right and hurried down the beach, sand and rock squeaking beneath his feet. While downwind, their voices were muffled by crashing waves as the tide figured its course for the day in the change between low and high tide; the wind riling the surf all the more. Therefore, it was understandable why their "keeper" for the day was unable to fully appreciate the trouble brewing.
"Mai-san!" D shouted, his voice cutting through the whistling gusts. Mai, who had been looking out to the horizon and admiring nature's show, turned with a raised eyebrow ready. A frown twisted her full lips, as if she already knew what he was going to say.
"Again?" she asked before he could add to his call, her tone exasperated. The boy nodded before pulling back his hair before it blew into his face. Mai grinned as D shoved his quarrelsome mass of hair under his collar, then shook her head before grabbing the handle of a colorfully striped beach bag. The boy could hear the clink of packed silverware shifting against one another as it bounced off the wrapped sandwiches and Tupperware.
"So much for a peaceful picnic at the beach," she muttered, and D gave her an apologetic shrug.
"It can still be fun at least," D said. "They haven't really gotten into it yet."
"Just playing peacekeeper?"
"Would you rather I ignore it?" he asked with a quiet chuckle she did not hear.
"No…just," Mai shouldered the bag fully before tromping down the beach. "Damn it," she grumbled under her breath and D expressed his compassion with a nigh-imperceptible pained line on his lips. He followed after her, aware their leader did not need additional problems on her plate, but also knowing it would be the quickest way to stop the pair. If the disappointment came from her mouth the fight would be quashed and it would take at least another week for them to start up again. If he alone had tried…it might have begun anew. And that time the fingers would be pointed for distressing a friend.
D pressed his thumb to his lips and counted his lucky stars that he was not also tangoing with a rabid desire for blood at the moment—he had managed to keep the worst of it at bay for the past week and was only peckish at present. Anything more and it would have soured his mood all the more.
"Whatever it is, knock it off!" Mai roared as they approached. The other shouting immediately cut off and the duo swiveled to attention in order to face the wrath of the one in charge.
"But she said—"
"No, I'm not having it."
"It wasn't me, she—"
"I said stop. I mean stop."
D gripped his left hand, feeling his symbiont's amusement grow while the boy observed Claire's face reddening as she tried to contain herself. Amami had a far more composed stance, although anger burned in her dark eyes. Attempting to further distract them, Mai took the bag from her shoulder and held it out before them.
"We came here to have a good time. To relax. You all want that, right?"
"I just don't want to get in trouble," Claire grumbled between gritted teeth.
That stopped Mai momentarily. "Why would you start fighting then?" she asked.
"Becaaause I don't want to get in trouble for something I didn't do!"
"I told you I didn't forget!" Amami snapped, whirling to launch a new attack on her adversary.
"Knock it off," Mai warned, once again silencing the pair. "What's all of this about?"
"It was Amami's turn to brush the horses today and I only asked her if she remembered."
"It wasn't my turn today!"
"Yes, it is! Monday's and Friday's are your days!"
"No! My daddy changed the dates last week. You forgot that it was your turn and are blaming me!"
"He didn't because he'd have had to go to Mai and ask her if it was okay first and he never did!"
"How would you know?!"
"Because," Claire motioned to Mai as if it all made perfect sense, "she'd have known what we were arguing about!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Uh-huh!"
D shot a pleading stare Mai's way, begging her to end this squabble. She caught his look in her peripheral vision and let out a heaving sigh before standing between the two girls and dragging them away from each other just as they had been inching closer in an act of intimidation. She stood there, hands keeping them at bay as their anger began to fizzle.
"Neither of you remembered," Mai said finally, once she was positive that they were ready to listen. "No one was supposed to brush them down today because Yugi and Bakura told us they were taking them out today and that they would handle it. Amami, the change hasn't been finalized—" Claire began to grin in triumph before Mai added, "—but Claire, if you know there's a change, there's going to be a change. We made Wanatabe in charge of camp management for a reason. I can't micromanage everyone's job or there's no point in having the distinction."
Both girls looked up at her with the pains of betrayal contorting their faces. Amami looked down at the dry sand, bunched her fists together silently and stormed off. Mai hurried after her to calm her down, leaving D to handle Claire. D sighed through his nose as he watched Claire broil where she stood, clearly unwilling to compromise on her position in all the mess she had help to create.
"Why?" D asked, still holding his left hand. "Why can't you guys just get along?"
"She's annoying and everyone babies her."
"Honestly, Claire, how is this any different?"
"I'm not acting like a baby!" she snarled at him. "I can handle myself. I remember what I have to do. I wasn't even being mean! I was trying to be helpful and ask her if she remembered! She started it!"
D stared at her and slowly blinked twice, marking his aggravation plainly even as his face failed to fully express the emotion. Claire huffed and half-heartedly shoved him aside with her shoulder. He followed her without a word.
They walked in the opposite direction that Mai and Amami took, the wind blowing their hair about them like seaweed in the tide. Claire worked on the inside of her cheek in silence, as D assessed their surroundings in his way. It had been inevitable that they would see the sea again, but even now, it felt surreal to him. So much had happened in a year's time. He looked to his left hand that only bared his palm to him and recalled that he had almost lost it once. The boy blinked in surprise that he could recall the feeling of it being severed, hanging from his arm as the thing that had attacked him and Andy—
"I'm sorry," Claire said finally, catching D's attention. He gave her a little nod. He aware of her little failings, and appreciative that she was aware of them too. "I really want to like her, D. But she's really annoying. And not like how you were in the beginning at all. That was annoying, but tolerable."
"Big word."
"I'll kick your ass."
"Try it."
She smiled at him and flung her arm over his shoulder, her bluff called. "Maybe if she was nicer, I'd like her more. But everything she's shown me? That you've told me?" She stuck her tongue out and then turned her head to the side to spit out the sand that had been kicked into her mouth by the wind.
"She was scared, Claire. Everyone was afraid back then."
"I was scared too, but I stuck by your side."
'But she had her father to think about,' the boy thought, although he was grateful for the fact Claire had stuck around. 'Amami lost most of her family because of what my father did.'
"Not everyone is you," D replied instead. The girl beamed.
"Nope. No one is like me, and no one is like you. And that's why we stick together. We can handle anything this world throws at us!"
'Except when someone argues with you,' he mused, the corner of his mouth lifting. 'Then the world ends.'
"…don't go quiet on me!" she cackled, shaking his obviously pliable form. He even let his head bob back and forth a little, an uncharacteristically goofy grin upon his face. She paused her playful act of "anger" when a wave crashed near their covered feet. She hopped back, letting out a yelp as the surf seemed to chase her up higher on the beach. D slid his hands in his pockets, calmly standing in place, having calculated that the water would not move to where he was based on the additional climb it would have had to make. He watched Claire chase down the wave as it retreated, her feet sinking into the wet and pebbled sand, pleased that she was enjoying her first real day at the beach. He also hoped Mai was having luck, and that Amami would be joining them again soon.
A rustling as faint as a whisper carried just beyond where cliff met dune. D's eyes locked onto the well-hidden target, and as fast as Claire had skid to a stop and turned to catch sight of the prey animal, his hand blurred with improved speed as he threw a hidden weapon from his pocket. He kept his hand outstretched for an instant, gauging how accurate his trajectory had been.
A soft squeak permeated the air as the animal was hit, and with no small satisfaction D trucked over the mounds of sand to lift his prize out of and over the high grass. A rabbit near-camouflaged with its coat even though it appeared more of a breed of invasive species hung limp in his grasp. Claire offered him a golf clap of approval; her face twisted in an exaggerated snooty nature. The look wrinkled into one of mild disgust as the boy placed the neck of the dead beast to his mouth and began feeding.
"Are you sure that doesn't taste nasty?" she asked as she watched him drink. "It's like watching you drink a furry capri-sun."
D snorted with muffled laughter and looked down at her in preparation to respond. She looked up at him with curious green eyes, the action jumpstarting a chain reaction within him that destabilized his breath. His eyes darted away before he bit further into the rabbit's neck with a crunch, snapping and tearing the ligaments and muscle between his teeth with unexpected force. Turning away from the girl, he finished his meal as he focused with obsessive concentration on a wandering beetle in the heather, his heart beating in horror and another all too familiar feeling.
He had spoken too soon.
"D?"
"What?" he called back, releasing the carcass that had been bled dry. He somehow felt both better and worse having followed instructions that Bakura had set for him previously. Contemplating the option of feeding away from others, he wondered if just their presence during the action was a trigger. He knew hunger was.
"You okay?"
"…" D's mind raced with options, ashamed that he even had to consider an alternative. "…It was going to come out of my nose."
Claire laughed. "Ewww…"
"Yeah, ew." He turned back to her; his lips colored brightly even after he had wiped them clean of residue. Up the beach came the others, and D worried that his feelings would only worsen seeing his meek friend come trudging down to them. She stepped lightly, timidly, made herself small, like prey.
His breathing quickened at the thought, his heartbeat untamed. He blinked rapidly and stared down at the rabbit in his hands. He prayed they would find a viable airplane in a well-stationed airport soon. He did not care to be reminded of his failings; he needed to be distracted. Success would distract him well.
"I caught some dinner!" he called to the two approaching when he felt he had contained himself well enough. Claire's laughter grew. As Mai offered him a thumbs up, he let himself smile—knowing he would have plenty of days ahead where he would not be able to.
But…he would not force a smile like the adults did.
That night his dreams were plagued by swaying skins and laughter like glass. A frightened beating sound, rhythmic in its frantic pace underscored what began as a terrible dance of mortality. When his dreaming eyes opened, he realized he had returned to a land he thought he had forgotten or had been barred from since his last experience there. Being there at that moment, he wished he could close his eyes there and open them upon the waking world.
Visions passed over his sight like motes of light viewed from behind closed eyelids. He spun around to make his escape, to free himself from this nightmare, and found behind him provided only the same horrific scene. He stared down at his hands and willed his conjoined partner to awaken, to speak, to exist in this plane but only his bare palms greeted him.
That was until a sludgy dark red substance began trickling onto them, droplets of blood that oozed freely from an absent ceiling. D flapped them furiously in a blind panic as the nature he fought began to take hold of him, and when it failed, he rubbed his dirtied hands on his black jeans while scrambling away from the gory rain. He did not know when he began screaming, just that amid his screams came a laughter far louder, far more imposing than he had ever known it to be. And those eyes (his fathers?!), those red eyes appeared before him, massive, demanding, all-encompassing.
Facing an image of what he did not wish to become, the boy crumpled to his knees and he bit his lip until he tasted the very thing he ran from. Tears streamed down his face, but he did not dash them away, knowing the smell of his hands would only make it worse. So much worse.
And then as abrupt as all the fearful images had manifested, they dissipated. And there was nothing.
He waited in his crouched position, hearing his breathing slow, feeling the oppressive heat drain from him until he dared to lift his gaze. Glancing up, he saw the shadow of a person, one familiar with its humorous red-slit eyes. Holding his hands close to his chest, he raised himself from the site of his cowardice, and felt a new flash of hot emotion. Rage.
"That wasn't funny!" D shouted, and the creature cocked their head in their ever so obnoxious fashion.
"What did I do?" the being inquired. It went to touch him with its impossible fingers, where the base and the nail had an unclear divide and he flinched, taking a step back. Its head cocked in the opposite direction and blinked; its movements owl-like.
"You know what you did," D muttered, although now he doubted his own assumptions. He tried to recall everything from his past dreams, but it all felt hazy. He was aware he needed to keep his bearings, and that the thing before him was not what it seemed, but he also could not prove it was lying. He had always viewed this monstrosity as separate to the larger one that hunted with its plodding steps, but thanks to time and his memories from the last experience where he recalled accidentally attacking Bakura, he could not be certain. So far, the only one he enjoyed (if that was what it could be called) meeting here had been the child that was not a child. Remembering that, D felt better venting his fears and frustrations at the being before him.
"Where's 'The Darkness'? Shouldn't you be harassing him? He's your friend, isn't he?"
Sorrow filled the creature's eyes and D was silenced in awe of it. It was as if someone had taken the mourning of the world and filled it into one source. "He's angry with me," it replied, remaining mostly formless as it floated around him dejectedly.
"Angry?" D asked, baffled. "Why?"
"I've not a clue," it lilted and listed in a current of air that did not exist. "I thought the time was right…Apparently…I've lied about something."
'Oh, have you?' the boy thought dourly. If the one with purple eyes was to be trusted, and this creature's friend, then perhaps there was some truth to his claim. If so, best to trust the thing before him as far as he could throw its existence into the real world.
When he did not respond, the entity narrowed its eyes, its pupils becoming dangerous crosshairs aimed at his person. With an air he was growing into, he shrugged it off as if it were no more than a passing glance. His personal hatred for himself outweighed the daggers sent his way, and the inaction that came with it proved something of the notion that this being could not possibly be the large, frightening creature that had chased him…that had tried to take—
The thought made his head ache and his eyes burn as if dashed with glass. D pressed both palms—now clean—to his eyes and shook the thought away like the granules of sand it felt like. The creature's expression became curious at his behavior.
"Why are you here anyway?" it asked.
He bit back an atypical snarl. "I don't know for the thousandth time!"
The being sat itself on a nonexistent-until-that-moment ledge and kicked its forming legs. It considered him with a scrutinizing gaze before clapping its clawed hands together. "You really do not know!" it exclaimed, as if coming up with the thought itself. Then, with a giggle, it corrected itself. "That's right, you've said that. You're that lost child, the one who I told to meet with him!"
"No, and yes." Finally! After nearly a year, there might me an end to their circular conversation.
"Still wandering without a clue—could have sworn you were supposed to meet…I mean, I did tell you…Maybe I can assist you, then."
Even with the notion that their conversations would move forward, surprise did not cover his reaction to its offer. He held back his internal glee and kept his mouth set in its flat line. "What's the catch?" he inquired with a raised brow, knowing whatever the entity was, it must have some type of impressive power to live in an ever-changing world like this—to manipulate itself in the way it enjoyed doing so even as he spoke to it now. Its skin rippled in hundreds of shades before settling back to imperceptible darkness.
And if that were the case, it was best he be wary. Perhaps it was more akin to the monster he wished to avoid than he would like to think. He could not allow himself to become overly cocky. His most recent meeting with his father reminded him of that.
"Catch?" it parroted with a great grin, then tittered in its grating way. When D's face remained stoic, its smirk widened further, and it shrugged its shadowy shoulders. "Not a catch per se, more like an agreement."
"Uh huh."
"Why are you always so grumpy, boy?"
"Get on with it," D commanded without hesitation, "I might agree."
Initially irritated by his impudence, the thing's eyes flared, dimmed, then lit up at the prospect of receiving aid in its unspoken endeavor. "For your benefit, I'll start the negotiations in your favor. To start, I'll use my time to help you figure out why you are attached here—that's to say, why you keep coming here, how you keep coming here—and perhaps assist you in harnessing a bit of the power that comes from this place when you are awake. Now," it cautioned, "it won't be much. I can tell you are built for greatness, but this could kill you just as quickly without a proper conduit."
Conduit? What did it mean by that? "Go on," he replied, feigning the confidence of a well-prepared adult in a business meeting. The thing before him was a liar, but it did enough to be considered a friend by the more trustworthy entity that had helped him in its confusing way. Just what would it lie about? How much would it expect from him? Should he ask Bakura before he agreed?
Would Bakura even know what he meant?
"It should be easy enough for you. In fact, I'd say that I'm giving you the better deal," it compared, pulling its arms wide as if to show him how great a difference it offered. "All I need is your help on getting him back on my side."
"Who?" D asked, although he knew full well what the creature spoke of. It seemed an even exchange at the least, but D worried he would be agreeing to something far greater than just a quick persuasion. Still, how else was he to learn anything about this strange phenomenon? "The Darkness" as the thing before him called their friend? No. They seemed helpful, but the last memories he could recall of their aid showed he had been just as baffled by D's existence on this plane. Although the child—Teenager? Young man? —seemed familiar in so many ways.
Once more, he considered asking Bakura. Would he be able to awaken to do so, however? And even if he did, would he be able to return here at his own whim? There were too many questions and he could not sift through any for an answer.
"What exactly did you do?" he asked, and its pleasant appearance wavered with impatience.
"I've already told you what I 'apparently' did. We can play games later, boy—"
"D."
"D," it said with a smile that seemed closer to a sneer. "I also know that you know who I want back at my side."
"Why?"
"Because we made a promise!" it shouted, and this time D noticeably seized with fear. It did not need size to create the impression it could steal away his very soul like the fragments of a past dream warned, not with the way it sat there statuesque yet practically aflame with unbridled fury. "And I keep my promises—eventually. He just needs to realize this—remember this—and has to do the same."
'How can he trust you?' D thought. 'How can I trust you?'
"What about the giant monster thing?" D asked aloud instead, realizing that even through this being's vicious mocking the beast that hunted him time and time again in the past had not appeared in full, only its eyes…
Eyes similar to the ones that bore into him now. D wondered who frightened him more—the beast, his father, or this creature before him.
For the third time, he wished he could receive Bakura's opinion on all of this. Or at least ask "The Darkness" about his views on what this creature's motives were, and why, after this unspecified time together, he had decided to part ways. D frowned to himself, unsure of his course of action. This unknown land was not a place to play at making decisions with far-reaching consequences.
"Oh," it intoned, grinning from ear to ear like some imp from a gruesome fairytale, "it won't bother you any while you're under my watch. Just think of that…you'll get understanding, power, and safety. What more could you want?"
Something about the being's response rubbed D the wrong way, but for all his frustrated attempts to figure out why, he could not place a finger on it. What he knew was that he had few options available to him—one day he may arrive in this land and be trapped for eternity, he could just feel it—and he was deathly curious about why he kept coming here. Perhaps this thing would even know what those shadowed things in the real world were, the ones that had stopped following them when they had crossed the Missouri border. Much like his detested father, he wanted so desperately to know why things happened. Maybe in the future, when he had millennia of knowledge under his belt, he would be sick of the patterns and questions (or at least muted in his excitement) but for now his childlike fascination won out against his caution.
"Fine," he replied curtly, extending his hand to shake theirs.
It beamed at him, and the boy's vision filled with a mirror of smiles—a continued replication of a smile filled with sharp, pearly-white, glinting teeth. D stilled his hand from quivering, wondering once more about what he was agreeing to but stubborn enough not to retract his offer. It took both of his hands in its own and shook them. His heart fluttered as if sparked with an electric current.
"What question would you like to tackle first?" it asked, showing itself willing to begin its end of the bargain.
"The things out there that were following us, what were they?"
It blinked in surprise; the film of a second eyelid sliding over as a second blink of confusion. "What? Not about yourself, or your position first?"
"I care about their safety above all else."
"How noble," it jeered. Then it circled him, evaluating him with a mocking gaze that dissipated by its second pass over him. "Yes, you may be just the person I need to bring him back to me. But such an easy question you pose. Are you sure you need me to answer this for you?"
"What do you mean?"
"The land awakens to its stories," it began. "What once hid, resurfaces. They are creatures of time, of loss, of consequence. The sickness within human hearts, born into flesh…or something of that sort."
"What does that mean?" D asked, clenching his jaw. "Why did they follow us?"
"Normal humans wouldn't see them at all. Not under normal circumstances, anyway."
"That's not what I asked!" he snapped. "Besides, I'm not human."
"Not entirely, no," it agreed, looking over him with interest. "You have the scent of one of them, you do well in this world. But not…entirely…"
"Don't get derailed."
"Never," it said, playfully. "Now, you aren't inherently one of mine; thus, the essence of you is naturally different than those who are. But they fear you. Those things. And they fear the ones who have my gifts. You must be in good company." It laughed, as if knowing some grand joke he was not privy to. "They'll not cross the place they call home. Just like humans of the now. What's home is home, is home. You are all just strange travelers, plodding along on the path of your quest. So long as you are there, they'd be stupid to attack. Because you have a gift. Something that could attack them."
"A natural gift?"
"Smart boy," it cooed. "Sorry. D. Yes and no. Science is a lovely thing. Science can explain so much…but we are in the world of mysticism and the times before. It is latent, partially in you, partially in something in you. I will awaken it. My first tangible gift to you. It'll only finally realize its true purpose."
"It?"
"It already can create fire, water, and air on its own, hear and heal you well. It could do this thing, if it understood itself. I will make it so."
Then his left hand was palm up in the creatures left hand, a stark contrast in the dreaming night. It took its thumb and pressed in, and D watched as its thumb painlessly went through his skin. He tilted his head to see where it stopped, but even as the whole appendage disappeared, nothing came out on the other side. In an instant that seemed to last longer than it did, his body stiffened in agony, leaving him to take a sharp gasp in response. He tasted a bitterness that awoke him to a memory of being held against his will as something of this world attempted to overtake him and he backed away in revulsion.
But the being stood still, having let his hand go. D searched the palm for any sign of change, of being tainted. There was nothing.
"Fascinating," it said. "That the choice was made to put it so close to your heart. Such a symbol. For as long as you live, that will be your closest companion. Even if you grow to hate it."
The boy shook his head, feeling woozy. Whatever had been done left him disoriented, but he had so much more to ask.
"What did you do?" he asked, struggling to form the words on his lips.
"I've given you a trap. Or a cleanser. It's up to you and it to decide."
"It will fight these things?"
"Fight? Only if you wish. There are more than the shadowed people out there. More superstitions that held true in so many beliefs. But…it's not like they're your enemy. Isn't your father your enemy?"
"…I suppose." Even with his hatred for the man, D was not sure he would have gone that far on a personal level. His father was very much Bakura's enemy, though, and as such, he figured the entity might be right in that regard.
"Well then," it clapped its hands, "like a spider in a corner of your ceiling, leave it to its purpose until it harries you."
D opened his mouth only to promptly close it again. It was strange; such a logical response that also denoted this chaotic being was not as much about destruction as it seemed. That, or it at the very least defended the things like it.
'I'm the monster,' he could recall the other child wailing, only in the form of a teenager. A cry very much like the internal one he felt deep in his core. Was this why the other boy trusted the creature? Did it promise protection? What was their promise?
Something about a route... a route to their wor—
"So, remember," it said, interrupting his thoughts yet again, "you are welcome here, but whatever your conduit is, you need to strengthen it; much like I said before. We'll sort that out later, though—since you struggle to pay attention. Don't forget the next time you come here: you are to bring him back to me. Just like we promised. But for now, you must go."
"Go?" His head jerked up, twice alert. "But I have more questions! And how am I even supposed to find him if I don't know how I get here?!"
"Your time is up in this world for now, D. But don't worry, we have all the time in the world to continue. At least you don't need help with that! Yes, we'll have all the time in the world, and then we can really play a game!" It cackled, and the laughter melded in with another sound just like it, high-pitched and unhinged. D bolted from the sound—
—and out of his sleep, tearing the sheets of the sleeping bag off his form as he sat up in shock. He looked down at the ripped cover, the stuffing in the middle pouring forth like sea foam into his open lap.
Only then did he realize that it was he who was laughing.
Later that morning as he tended to the horses (not wanting to hear any more complaints from the others as to who's turn it was), D could not shake the dream from his mind. Thrice he had flipped his left hand over to examine it, and each time it had only brought about an aggravated but familiar creature. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened to it, it had told him, but he could feel it was disturbed by the boy's emotions all the same. On occasion, as he checked his brush job on each horse, he cradled his left arm in his right, worrying at the corner of his mouth with one of his canines. This day was probably the kindest either had been to each other since their joining.
Everyone else milled about on their duties. Mai, the one most experienced with leading in a political sense, oversaw everyone that day while she also assessed the maps for their next campsite. In trying to find the perfect place to have their plane schemes come to fruition, they made moves constantly, disinterested in losing out on what was their most viable options for safety (even with the heavy risks involved). Yugi and Bakura were off once again, a diplomatic duo that inquired about airports and the nearest trading posts. Of course, they offered what they could for aid, whether it be a food item they did not need, or a gun for hire for a day in exchange for other necessities.
Aoki resided in her favorite corner of their built camp, lecturing on the topics of photosynthesis and assessing soil composition (something the boy had read about long ago) to Claire and Amami as Etsu flipped her cardboard picture book to and fro at the woman's feet. Amami listened in rapt attention whereas Claire, who enjoyed her survivalist trainings more, bobbed her head back and forth to a song only she could hear. Noticing the display, Aoki paused long enough for the girl to snap back to attention, and D's sour mood faded a little after watching Claire's embarrassed apology. For a child who had raised herself for a good chunk of her young life, she really did give her best effort when she realized she did wrong. He grinned a little when he thought of how astonished his past self would have been to hear how favorably he looked to the girl now. They had come a long way from D wanting to frighten her off.
His tiny smile faded when he saw Amami's frown growing, a cupful of vinegar to the drop of sweetness he had felt. He turned back to his duty, plucking debris from the mare's mane. A distraction for a distraction.
Another (more intriguing) disturbance came his way minutes later: Zoe hurried back into camp with Josseline tagging along, rattling off something that excited her to Graham, who immediately went to tear Simon from his reading. The man who D noticed spent more and more time with Bakura as the days wore on snapped his book closed and ran off with them, eagerness flashing in his eyes. Something good, then; perhaps a sign that Theo and Jessica had found a manual or plane… a plane would mean that they would stay for a time to see if it was viable. The idea of wasting time if it was not irked the boy, but at least nothing about their reaction signified any misfortune.
D cracked his back just to hear the sound—playing at being human—and moved to his next task. As he approached a recently unloaded container, the boy gripped his left hand and pressed the tips of his four fingers in the center until it felt uncomfortable. He paused before the bittersweet scented mixture of the barrel, unsure of what his motives were for the action.
Shaking off the thought, he nudged the horses feed container open and eyed the low levels of vital grasses that they carried there. Hopefully there was a functioning farm nearby. Or a random field growing naturally, just waiting to be cut.
In the midst of this assessment, spreading his palm wide as he hand-fed one of the horses before dumping an appropriate amount out for them, he heard familiar footsteps rushing up to him. D straightened instantly and let Claire collide into him as if she were running into a steel pole. He glanced back at her, a minute knowing smirk greeting her shocked and dizzied face. Unabashed at being outplayed, Claire let out a snorting giggle as she clambered back to her feet.
"Aoki wanted to know if you wanted to join us for 'language lessons'," Claire said. "You're almost done, right?"
"I'm almost done," D said, scratching his nose to stop himself from fussing with his left hand again. He was desperate to know what the being had done to him. "I guess. If you want."
Her brow furrowed. "You okay?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Because you've been acting weird all day," she observed. "You keep getting distracted. No one else might notice, like, since Bakura isn't here, but I do."
"Is it because I'm distracted, or you're distracted?"
"Both, but don't be dumb," she shot back, sticking her tongue out.
"I'm…" D wanted to finish with "fine" but seeing Wanatabe pass by Anzu with an overly pleasant greeting reminded him that the person before him was one of the few who he did not need to lie to. "I'll tell you later."
"Huh. Okay." Claire shoved her hands in her pockets, a habit picked up from one of the adults along their travels. "So, are you coming?"
"When I'm done," D said, turning back to his work. Claire mimicked him, and he twisted to give her a grotesque face in response. She snickered and mimicked that. He dropped his work to warp his face further—fingers stretching his lips as far as their elasticity would take them. They would see who would win in a face-making contest.
He stopped midway when he saw Amami making her way towards them, that displeased look still apparent. D sighed through his nose as he relaxed his face and gave her a little wave. Her eyes brightened, but the rest of her expression remained set. Not a great sign.
"What'd you do?" D asked, and Claire shrugged.
"What do I ever do? I'm telling you; my existence pisses her off."
"Claire!" he hissed through the side of his mouth before Amami was in earshot.
"Hi, D," Amami called pleasantly. D gave her a little smile and nodded in return. The girl nodded back with a shy smile of her own. "Did Claire ask you if you wanted to join us?"
"Yeah, like two seconds ago," Claire muttered under her breath. "You know, like thirty seconds after I got here in the first place."
D discreetly elbowed her before giving his reply. "Once I'm through, I would like to. Then maybe we can all hang out for our free time?"
"If you want," Amami said, dejection clear for D to hear. Claire scowled; she also picked up on the other girl's displeasure, although the boy knew Amami had tried to be polite in hiding it.
"What's wrong with hanging out with me?"
"Nothing," she replied noncommittally, slowly dropping her civility. "It's just you two have been hanging out alone a lot and I just wanted to hang out with you," she looked pointedly at the boy, "not her."
"Well, maybe he just likes me better," Claire sniffed, folding her arms.
D growled within his sigh and it caught both girls' attention. "It's not that," he clarified. "So both of you can knock it off. It's just we also have another job we've been assigned to that's the same. It's not like we talk a lot then either. We're hunting."
"It just…it feels like you're ignoring me."
"I'm not—"
"He isn't ignoring you! You're just clingy!"
"I wasn't asking you!"
"Well, he's too nice to tell you!"
"Just go away!"
"No!" Claire shouted as D put his hands over his face to hide his growing annoyance. "Maybe you aren't getting to hang out with him more because you were one of the jerks who ditched him!"
"I didn—"
"Yes, you did!" the blonde girl cried, riled up. "And you never apologized like ever! You never apologize when you're wrong and that's why no one likes you!"
"No one likes you," Amami returned coldly, "because you're a loud-mouthed, mean girl who only gets to be friends with him out of pity!"
"You take that back!"
"Make me."
"Stop it!" D snapped. "Just stop it!" When these two fought, silencing them was like trying to stop a train with a warning sign thirty seconds away from a dead end. The boy was determined to end it though, even if he had to drag them kicking and screaming into an agreement. They were his friends; there should have been no reason for this. "Can't you guys listen to Mai for more than one day? To Bakura-sama? To anyone?! I told you, Claire, it's fine. Amami, Claire's just angry at you because she thinks you were being cruel. Neither of you are right in this situation. Enough!"
"I listen to Bakura!" Claire shouted, ignoring his last declaration entirely.
"You started this!"
"No, I didn't! She came up here because she was trying to make me look stupid, and when she didn't, she started complaining we hang out too much!"
"You Do!"
"I'm not going to hang out with any of you anymore if you both keep this up." D's quiet ultimatum after the shouting match that transpired smacked both girls with a chill. He looked to either of them, disgusted. Tired. His left hand tingled as if he had denied its blood circulation, but the boy ignored it to point just beyond them with his finger. He was done.
"Go back to Aoki. I will be down when I'm done."
"But—"
"Now."
Amami's eyes teared up, and although D's face remained unaffected, he hurt all the same. He did not want either of his friends crying because of his actions.
"Why are you being so mean?" the black-haired girl questioned. D had no response. He could not think of one that would not also come out sounding cruel. So, he stewed in his silence with the rest of them.
Claire stared at him much like she had when they first had met; calculating and angry. Yet, instead of shouting at him, as she would have before—or arguing her point, as she had been lately—she simply gave him a curt nod and turned to go back to her small, makeshift classroom.
Amami sniffled and let out a whimper as she spun around to do the same. Unmoving, D watched her back with a hint of regret. Her slumped shoulders sparked another wave of self-hatred in himself and he wished that the poor girl had never met him again, if only to refrain from feeling like he was not on her side. He was; it was just he was also on Claire's side, too. Why should he have to pick and choose who was his closest friend?
Especially when he knew these chances would be far and few between for him?
He was pulled out of his self-pity when Amami, instead of gracefully hopping over the barrel lid in her departure, tripped on it and fell forward. In order to balance herself, she stuck her hand out and it smacked the rear end of the horse nearest to her. Her mouth opened into an "o" of alarm as she realized her folly. Time slowed for all, as even Claire had turned to see what the sound of Amami's foot colliding with the heavy plastic had been about. All watched as back legs lifted poised to kick before the horse would bolt.
D did not waste any more time. He darted forward; a puff of dust littered with grass fragments the only sign of how hard he kicked off from the ground. Flinging the girl aside, he had just enough time to brace himself for the incoming impact. He had still not built up enough speed or muscle memory to dodge in every instance, nor had he thrown her hard enough to fully get her out of the way out of fear of hurting her. Claire caught Amami around the waist and jumped aside, saving the other girl from a nasty tumble and leaving D to be the body shield they needed. Crouching low, she pulled her former adversary into a defensive roll to escape any possible errant blow.
This proved to be unnecessary, as D took on the majority of the hit before the hoof bounced off his crossed arms and set the horse into a panicked gallop. The boy fell onto his behind, winded by the force, his arms bruised but otherwise fine. He twisted his head in the girls' direction and saw their faces drained of color, their hair mussed and wild. They all stared at each other, even as a distant shout drew the attention of the other adults to the runaway mare. As the parade of panicked grownups hurried down the dirt path that lead up onto a paved road, D raised a battered arm to point at the disheveled girls…
And laughed.
Nighttime fell once again, the day having fallen into its structured pattern after the former chaos. Before he could make his way to Bakura who had just now returned (to greet him after a long day apart, to tell him he was fine and prepared for the talking to he would receive, and to ask him about his dreams) he was stopped by a small hand. He craned his neck back to see who it was and saw Amami's clouded face staring back at him. Taking a cursory glance to see where Claire was (helping Anzu set up for the camp's nightly entertainment only this time also taking part), D took the girl's hand and led her off somewhere where they could talk, uninterrupted.
That someplace ended up being an abandoned vehicle parked askew on the side of the road, where if one sat atop it could watch the darkening waves of the ocean advance and recede upon the uneven shore. They sat there as they once did on a playground long ago, but instead of observing others at play, they faced each other on the top of the car, taking their time before letting their much-needed conversation unfold.
"I…" Amami began, and her words left her as if they pained her physically, "am sorry, D-kun. I was being very rude."
"It's not entirely your fault," D said, twisting his fingers as his gaze focused on hers. "She hasn't been helpful in stopping the arguments, either."
"Oh, thank you," she mumbled. "But that's not what I really meant."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm sorry. Claire…she's not right about everything. But she is right that I was cruel to you. I've been meaning to say I was sorry about that. As in, I feel terrible that I made you so sad." She looked at him, tears in her eyes again. "I remember. I remember being so angry, like you lied to me, and I remember thinking that you deserved to cry when you and Bakura-san were kicked off of the boat. My dad told me I shouldn't worry about you, that it was your fault that everyone died. But I started thinking about it more and more, and my dad started changing. So, I started wondering just how right my dad was about you…"
"You don't have to say any of this," D offered, trying to give her an out that she seemed to wish for with the way her eyes wavered from his gaze; darting around like there was some annoying gnat hounding her.
"I need to!" she insisted. "You were always so nice to me in Domino City. You protected me—you were my hero."
"That was just something from Monster World," D said.
"No. I mean, yes…but no. You saved me from that awful man—that vampire," Amami shuddered at the memory. "And then I blamed you and didn't try to make you feel any better. I didn't try to help, when I probably could have."
"You couldn't have," D assured her. "Not with who was in charge."
"I'm not an idiot. Or blind." She eyed the sea and the evening breeze played with her hair, momentarily hiding her expression. "I saw Yugi."
D blinked. "What?"
"I saw Yugi go down there. He had food. I didn't want to see you, but I also didn't want you to die; not like my dad did. So, I told Kaiba-sama about it, and I asked him not to let you starve. I'd seen you eat before and thought maybe…maybe if you ate food like a normal person, you'd become normal. That way, you'd be able to be happy, and human, somewhere out there," she laughed at herself. "It's a silly thought. It doesn't make sense. You were born like that, just like I was born who I am. But you really were my friend, D-kun. I never forgot that part. You are my friend. And I'm sorry."
"Amami-chan…I—"
"And it bothers me that your new friend is so impolite. You deserve a better friend." She frowned and raised her hands to her face. "But I haven't been much better. You deserve better friends than us."
D shook his head. "I wouldn't trade either of you for anything." And he meant it.
"Thank you."
"No problem."
"Also, I guess she's not that bad," Amami muttered begrudgingly. "She did protect me from getting hit. I'm sorry you did, though. Are you okay?"
"Fine," D replied, pulling up a sleeve to show her his bare forearm. It shone pale in the moonlight, not a bruise in sight. "See?"
A relieved smile graced her face. "I guess that's one good thing that comes out of being one of those things, huh?" Amami noted with a tilt of her head.
D's mouth twisted a little as he covered his arm again. "I guess."
They chatted more, on topics less uncomfortable, before D noticed Bakura making his way to them, an indescribable expression coating his otherwise pleasant features. Placeless or not, D thought he could guess the topic the man would bring up and felt Amami would be better off watching Anzu dance to a tune of Claire's design. He said as much and nodded in Bakura's direction.
"I have to talk with him alone, anyway," he finished with a shrug. Amami nodded and slid off the car roof, prepared to slink around it so as not to intrude. Or hear the talking to the boy was probably going to get.
"Before I go, I'm going to make a promise," the girl whispered, taking his right hand and squeezing it a little. "I will try to get along with Claire. So long as she does the same with me."
D smiled. "It's all I ask."
"But please, let's hang out more?"
His left hand raised as if to tip the hat he had left at the campsite. "It's a deal."
The girl beamed and scurried off just as Bakura reached the vehicle. The young man stared after the hurried figure and shook his head in amusement. He had clearly seen them talking. D knew that, as well.
"Having friends is hard," D mused. Bakura laughed; a welcomed chime of sound to D's ears.
"Yeah, no kidding."
"How much trouble am I in?"
"Trouble?" Bakura asked, hoisting himself up until he sat on the hood of the car, his legs crossed in front of him. "Last I heard it was ruled an accident."
D shot Bakura an annoyed glance. "Was it?"
"To the ones who matter, D-kun. But if you are wondering if I was sent here to remind you to be careful, you could get hurt, or others could get hurt, well…we just had that conversation right this minute. So," he half-heartedly shook his finger in the boy's direction. "Be careful."
"They were arguing," D blurted, unable to hide the truth from the man. It all came falling out to his greatest confidant, and even in his frustration as he told it, he saw a strange smile forming on Bakura's face. His last few words on the subject petered out as he tried to speculate as to why he was receiving that look.
"What?" the boy asked, and Bakura shook his head before pulling the boy down beside him and hugging him close.
"I'm sorry that they are making you feel that way," Bakura said, and D rested his head in the crook of his neck, keeping his face far away as possible from the man's exposed skin. "But, for all of it, at least it's nice to hear a problem that befits your age."
D furrowed his brow as he tried to figure what Bakura meant. He felt the young man's chest shake with silent laughter.
"Problems with friends," Bakura elaborated, as if hearing his thoughts. "That's a conversation I might have discussed with my mother or father."
"A 'normal' discussion?"
"I guess; if you want to call it that."
"Can I ask you a question?" D asked abruptly, jolting up from the hug. Bakura blinked, startled by his out of the blue reaction, then nodded; the boy seemed livelier, as if sparked with some electrical charge. A rare occurrence. As he smoothed down a wayward strand of hair on the boy's head, Bakura wondered what inspired such behavior.
"Let's say…Claire and I had a fight," D began, thinking quickly. "And I called her a liar, but she said she wasn't."
"We're playing a what-if?"
"Yeah—yeah," D said, still unsure of how to broach the topic of the other world. He did not wish to sound crazy, or cause alarm if such problems had left Bakura entirely. Better to start with a supposition. "She said she wasn't, and we were…talking about some promise we made."
"Did you two make a promise?"
"No." D shook his head. "It's just part of the scenario."
Bakura raised an eyebrow, clear to the boy even in the growing darkness. "Okay."
"I am mad that she's not upholding the promise because I am, but she tells you that she is, it's just—going to take a little while."
"What's the promise?" Bakura asked. "Did you two discuss a timeframe?"
"I—"
'—don't know,' he thought, realizing that there were a lot of holes to fill in the story given to him, and he had already promised his own aid before filling them in for himself. He looked at his left hand and poked it, wondering what ramifications there would be if he failed…or chose not to uphold the deal. Could it be any worse than what he had been through already?
"You aren't given an option to know," D finished aloud. "It's sort of an in-the-moment decision."
"This is getting really specific, D-kun."
The boy looked up at him with bright black eyes. "Are you saying you don't know what to do?" D teased, half-joking, half-deflecting the issue.
"Oh, is that how it's going to be?" Bakura chuckled. "Well then, I accept your challenge. First, I'd probably go to whoever would give me the most information without being too emotional about it—"
'The Darkness,' D thought.
"Me?" D joked, and Bakura rubbed his forehead, trying not to laugh.
"It depends. It sounds like you're the harmed party in this situation. There'd be a chance you'd be too angry to focus on any evidence but what would be on your side. It would all depend on how the both of you acted at the time."
"Okay…" D feigned a bit of annoyance, dipped in a little truth. He would probably be the best to go for the most impartial side of an argument; it was a little irritating to hear Bakura state anything different. "Go on."
"I'd find out what the 'promise' is, and then work together with the both of you to create a timeframe that you both would agree on in upholding that promise. If you really did keep to your word, your job would be over. Then it would be Claire's turn to uphold her end of the bargain."
The boy tilted his head. "That sounds too easy."
"Maybe," Bakura agreed. "That doesn't account for what happens if Claire fails to keep to what she swore, or how involved her end of the promise is. But I would need more information for that, now wouldn't I?"
D gave Bakura one of his small smiles. Even when posed an unfair question, the man always seemed to come through in just the way he needed. "Thank you," he said. "I worry sometimes—"
They were both yanked from the conversation by the sound of large beating wings. Both of their eyes took to the sky in time to see a great dark mass flutter above them, two bright-red pinpricks peering down at them as it flew off into the distance to the west. D looked to his fingers, now coated in a fine dust, whereas Bakura already had his gun drawn, holding a rather accurate bead on a creature he should no longer be able to see. Just as Bakura's finger twitched as if to pull the trigger, D placed a hand on the man's shoulder. He lowered his revolver slightly as he gave the boy an inquisitive look.
"Whatever it is," D said, much to Bakura's surprise, "It isn't interested in us. Leave it alone."
"What do you mean?" Bakura asked but returned the gun to its holster as requested. "And how do you know?"
"I'm not sure. I don't think I do," D reflected, fussing absentmindedly with his collar. "It's just...It could have attacked, but it didn't. And it just seems lost, like this isn't where it normally is. Like a spider in the corner of your ceiling—"
"Leave it be, until it bothers you?"
"Yes." Once again, he felt the urge to poke at his left hand after another strange tingle manifested. He still did not know what the creature meant by a trap or cleanser, but he desperately wanted to find out. "How'd you know?"
"A guess?" Bakura offered, shrugging with his hands. "Also, I'm inclined to agree. Even for all the fighting that we've done, I'm not really that violent of a person."
"I know."
Bakura beamed and hugged the boy once more before leaping to his feet. "We should probably get back before everyone begins to worry."
The boy nodded, following suit. "Agreed. Also, Claire would be angry if we missed what she and Anzu had been practicing since last week."
"Definitely. She's been talking about it nonstop!" Saying that, Bakura paused and rubbed at his face, unknowingly smudging imperceptible traces of dust on his face. "It feels like we have hardly seen each other all week, though…"
"You've been busy," D said, hiding a grin behind a twitching corner of his mouth; and understanding their positions in what felt like some strange, temporary, truce.
"Maybe. But I can't say I want to be the type of person who has to get used to that excuse."
D studied Bakura's expression and noted the slightly glazed look in his eye. Not that frightening one that had not shown itself since Domino City, but the more familiar one of dwelling on the past. Remembering the letters to Amami that he had read, he realized Bakura was comparing himself to his own parentage. The thought touched him. "I know you're here for me," D said finally, hoping to alleviate what guilt the man felt.
Bakura's only reply was a quick smile. It was clear he did not think so. D tried again.
"You're allowed to have friends too, you know. I'm not a baby."
"I know, I know," Bakura chuckled, relenting in his brooding ways. "I just want to make sure you're alright. Have you been sleeping well?"
His words stopped D in his tracks. "Why do you ask?" he questioned, wondering if this was the opening he needed to feel comfortable sharing out the strange dreams-but-not-dreams.
"I heard you mumbling in your sleep last night," Bakura said, casually swiping off the dust he noticed on his arm. "Jeez, what is this stuff?"
"I think it came from that flying thing," the boy replied. "I admit, I've been having some strange dreams."
"Oh? What are they about?"
"It's really odd. It's also not the first time I've had it. When I'm there, it's like I'm waking up in a different place. And sometime something chases me, but most of the time I talk to—" He was about to tell Bakura about the mischievous, shapeshifting creature with the red eyes when Jounochi hurried up to the two of them, somewhat out of breath.
"Holy shit, you guys, did you see that?!" Jounochi asked, pointing the way that the fluttering being had flown.
"Yeah, it flew right over us," Bakura replied. He motioned to himself and D. "Covered us in something, but I think we're fine. It didn't turn around, did it?"
"No," Jounochi said. "But it isn't the first weird thing we've seen since picking this spot and I'm starting to get a little freaked out."
Bakura's face took on an uncharacteristic expression that D had not seen in some time. Once again, the look made the boy pause and eye his friend with scrutiny. "You say that, but did you forget the vampires?"
"You know what I mean!" Jounochi vented, rolling his eyes. "We lose the creepy shadow things you and Yugi were talking about and all of the sudden we've got weird flying monsters appearing. That also doesn't take into account the other creepy thing I've gotta talk to you about."
"What creepy thing?" Bakura asked, intrigued. D also listened intently, interested in the things he missed by remaining at camp.
"He doesn't need to hear it," Jounochi said, motioning to the boy. He leaned in and whispered to Bakura, "Don't want to give any of the kids nightmares."
"I'm fine," D replied, straight faced as he watched a display he could hear perfectly well. "I'm certain I've seen worse creatures that were created by my father."
"True," Bakura verified, toying with a lock of hair as he thought on it. D rested his head against the man's other arm, playing with his own left hand as the two continued their conversation. He supposed he could talk to him about the dream, later. For now, it was better to hear out their friend who was visibly upset.
"Just tell us."
"Okay…" The blonde man took in a breath and let it out forcefully. "Well, we've got some crazy asshole going around in an animal suit threatening us, and yelling that we're trespassing for a start."
"Maybe we are?" Bakura reflected lightheartedly; even amused.
"We might be—but that doesn't mean someone has to go chasing us around with an axe!"
"We've seen worse," D said, "Is his attire the strangest thing about the person?"
"That's not the weird part," Jounochi said, shaking his head as if disbelieving his own words before he said them. "The weird part is that today I saw it, Lewis saw it, and Jessica saw it. You know none of us were even remotely in the same areas today, and the timeframes for when we saw him make it impossible to explain even with a working car. It seems like Mr. Bunnyman likes to disappear and reappear out of thin air, and that's not the worst of it—"