Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or Vampire Hunter D.

I know this took longer than I said it would, but life really does pick up for me around this time.

Either way, please enjoy!

Chapter Fifty: Aboard

The sound of rhythmic thumping tugged Jounochi from the sweet embrace of his nap. He cracked one eye open to the scene bathed in dim light before him. The shining shaven head of a passenger in the seat before him aided his recollection of where he was as he left his dreamy haze with a loud yawn. The exit to his left loomed as a reminder of the worst that could happen, although the absolute worst would have been having no chance to open it at all. Yet even though it drew his attention, it was not where the sound originated from. He lifted his head further from its cozy resting place and observed his surroundings with a keener eye.

Four hours into their flight, the excitement in the cabin had died down and many of the travelers were participating in the same activity that he had been unceremoniously pulled from. The thumping continued, but no other sleeping individual woke up along with him. That was not to say that he was the only one awake, however. For example, his traveling companion was presently trying to clean under one of her nails with an obsolete dining cart menu. She seemed unperturbed by the whole thing. Then again, with her hair done up like some high fashion model about to stomp down the runway, he was beginning to think a lot less fazed her than what once had years ago.

"Do you hear that?" Jounochi asked, nudging Mai with his elbow. Her slow, annoyed glance spoke for what the rest of her expression could not.

"Queen's kid. She's been doing a great job so far, but she's getting bored now," she explained, and rolled her eyes a little. "Seems like traveling doesn't change much, even after all these years."

Jounochi laughed. "All these years…makes you sound old."

Her familiar pout was evident even with his gaze turning elsewhere. The tittering of children had caught his notice and he watched as a familiar trio leaned forward in their seats to aid in distracting the hard to spot toddler. With patient words they usually failed to have with each other, they worked on wrangling her into a game of "I spy". For their safety, the three probably should have remained seated; but the seatbelt light was off, so perhaps all was well enough.

Spotting them, however, had brought a new question to mind, and he faced his exasperated partner once more.

"Do you think you'll want to stay wherever we land?" Jounochi asked, shifting uncomfortably as he began to feel the stiffness of his stationary joints set in.

"I doubt where we're landing is the end of it," she replied. Her tone rang as if disinterested, but knowing her, he could tell it was a subject she took seriously. "I made a promise to a friend, and I intend on keeping it."

"What was that promise?"
"What does it matter to you?" she said jokingly. "Plus, it's not like he's the only reason. I've got other people I want to stick around for."

"Yeah? Like who?"

"I'm getting really attached to the kids, to start, but I'm also sticking around for someone who is apparently full of himself enough to have to hear someone talk about him—oh, and thinks I sound old," she stated, tilting her head haughtily. Yet the look she gave him after was so sweet that it made his heart skip a beat.

"I'm not full of myself," he grumbled, crossing his arms. His cheeks stung with the sudden flush of red and was glad Bakura was not around to return the teasing he had been so willing to offer to the pale-haired man. Mai already did so well in throwing him off what confidence he relied on. Yet, even on the receiving end of it, her teasing charm was just another facet that made her so fun to be around. He let his face soften, thinking on all the wonderful things he and his friends could experience, until his mind fell to a depth of cynicism he had not felt in a long while. He faced her and added, low enough that only the two of them could hear it, "It is dangerous what we're doing, you know. Are you sure you want to risk it?"

"Ha! Risk it! You mean like what we're doing now?" She motioned to their position, wedged near the center of an aircraft in a world without contact. "I've been pulled into danger with you all before, and I didn't step down. I've had to deal with the possibility of dying, losing all my memories, you name it. I saw a vivid image of a guy who looked like his head was cut off in the middle of a card game. This will be nothing new."

"It's not the same."

"Mmhmm…you are right. I could decide to split off from you and run the risk of being found by some all-powerful vampire without you guys around to help. Sounds like a much better deal."

"We're probably not in the clear yet to talk about that," Jounochi cautioned, his fingers practically gouging his skin with his unuttered nerves. Just because he could face most of the unknown dangers to save himself and his friends did not mean he had to like it. Or be comfortable with it.

"Then don't bring it up," Mai replied sweetly, and went back to cleaning her nails.

Jounochi sighed and flopped his head back against the headrest, his excitement long having left him. A few minutes of forcing his eyes closed made him realize the misfortune that sleep would not reclaim him, and with it came a promise for a long, dull, flight ahead. Excusing himself, he shimmied out from his seat and made his way to the back where the bathroom resided. As he did his best not to disturb those lucky enough to succeed where he failed, he spotted a good portion of their group peppered in separate aisles—strategically stationed and prepared for any mishaps that could occur. Their placement also ensured they remained hard to spot for one particular passenger (not that he had ever seen the likes of Zoe or Kay, but care needed to be taken). With a bit of relief, he noted that Kaiba was one of the currently asleep, the airline headphones still covering his ears. When they landed, it could be known that they were all together. Not a second sooner.

They had planted a thought that there would be multiple routes that the majority of the group would take that would place Kaiba as far from them as possible—a thought that only worked if he was as pessimistic in his thoughts as his brother supposed. This was the last bit of insurance that they had until the moment Kaiba regained full autonomy. Based on the timeframe it took to receive what they needed, they would have around a month to reach their destination before having to worry about them having the fuel to follow. Bakura did not think Ms. Lupei had been holding out on them. From what he had seen, the "Nobility" was still ironing out their own means of effective transmissions and transportation in a world still somewhat hostile to them.

Jounochi grit his teeth until it left a pain in his jaw; he hoped his friend had guessed right.

Reaching the last few seats before the restroom he paused to fist bump another airborne traveler, one with a familiar face; a welcome sight for his nerves.

"You think he's okay down there?" Jounochi asked, keeping his voice low and leaning in as he did so.

"We've made sure he's comfortable," Yugi replied, tilting closer to Jounochi's offered ear. Two individuals Jounochi only knew from their names attached to the project sat next to him. Very few knew what other—interesting—cargo they held aboard, and it had been requested to stay that way by the highest up. No need to frighten the others when they remained in such an enclosed space. Thankfully, they seemed more intent on their chosen activities, and wary enough of Yugi that they did not care to listen in on his conversation, lest bring forth his misperceived anger. "He also has anything he immediately needs. He'll be waking up soon, that's true, but he knows what he's in for and there will only be a short wait between then and when we land."

"Kind of wish we could have told him it was us."

"We will soon enough. I'm just grateful he's alive—"

"Sort of."

"—in any capacity," Yugi added, annoyed. "The fact that he feels little loyalty to those people and more so to our memory is a great sign. We don't need to lose any more of our friends to them. Right?"

"Right," Jounochi mumbled, remembering Honda.

Yugi bumped him with his shoulder to offer him some knowing comfort and then sighed with his own lament, "I wish I could be sitting closer to my family."

"Yeah, the little one apparently is tired of the ride," Jounochi said, grinning. "I'm sure you heard the thumping she's giving the chair in front of her. Dancing Queen's probably wishing you could help her out."

"Does she need it? I think I could get up to do it now, right?"

"Nah, the kids have got it."

"They're behaving?" Yugi asked in surprise.

"Yeah. I know it's been a while for you, seeing them all interact and everything, but they seem to have it sorted out. Mostly."

"Takes a load off of Dream Eater and Valentine."

"Don't they know it," Jounochi said with a chuckle. "Anyway, KC is sleeping, so that's good. I'll keep you posted if I suspect anything's off."

Yugi waved his friend off to take care of business and stifled a yawn. Sleep sounded like a great idea. He glanced around the cabin, watching the few awake busy themselves with reading or idle whispering chit chat. All did seem to be going well, the best this first flight in some time could have hoped for. Only they had been so "carefree" as to take children along, but apparently even that was rectifying itself. Since it appeared nothing was amiss and since so many seemed to be taking naps, he felt it would not hurt to join them. There were others keeping an eye out after all—

—what would a few hours of much needed sleep hurt?

"I spy with my little eye," Claire drawled, scrutinizing her surroundings, "something that is…gray."

Etsu blinked before looking around with her huge round eyes, fully immersed in the game. "Is it a cubby?" she asked.

"No, that's beige. And that's, like, called an overhead compartment or something."

"Oh…"

"This isn't a fair," Amami pointed out. "There's lots of gray around."

"It is fair," Claire said. "She's guessed everything else right so far. We've gotta make it harder."

"Not that hard! I couldn't even guess what it was if you were asking me."

"You couldn't guess the last one, either—but she did."

D listened to the conversation wave in and out of tonal bickering as he stared past Claire, admiring the clouds that glowed with moonlight. The pale forms undulated slowly as the airplane passed over them, a sky-sea above the darkened ocean. Something about the serenity of nature soothed him just as swiftly as Anzu did with the others, blanketing the budding argument with a joke before its spark could catch flame. This was for the best; many were taking part in much needed rest before they landed, their destination a land that would have been strange to them in the best of times.

Even then, that did not include whatever else was expected from Bakura and his friends. Some other mission had been set upon them, one that would ultimately drag the youth along in what would probably be a stressful venture. He reveled in the momentary peace.

The boy turned his attention back to the interior when he heard a lull in discussion. "The meal cart?" he guessed. From this angle it would be hard to spot; thus, a likely target.

Claire shook her head gravely. Etsu mimicked her and left her audience to melt in response, charmed by the youngest's behavior.

"That's silvery," the little girl replied in her babbling way, leaving him twice perplexed when Claire affirmed her reasoning.

"What's the difference?" he asked, lost. Sliver was a type of gray, at least to him.

"Shinier," Claire explained as if it should have been obvious to him.

"Why, then, did you not say you were looking for a matte gray?" D muttered, leaning toward Amami as she added her own braiding to his already complicated hair. Her nervous hands shook less as she focused on properly twining the strands of pitch black.

"What's a matte?" Etsu inquired, her bright eyes shining with her father's hue.

"Good question," Claire said, and she turned to her friend to inquire about it, although D missed the rest of her response. His ears had caught the strangest sound, a staticky chitter in the speakers, and only a second after, a thunderous whoosh followed. The rest of her sentence was ripped from her as she was unceremoniously flung forward, along with all the other passengers. A loud ping warned the passengers to buckle their seatbelts as the lights for the warning flicked on, and another curious buzz from the speakers made it seem like they were going to be warned verbally as well before the sound cut out abruptly. D helped Amami buckle herself; her hands now clenching at the sides of her face, frozen in fear. He would have aided Claire, but the first jolt had been enough of a hint for her to jump back into her seat and secure herself. Her newly dyed hair had whipped into a frenzy across her face, and their eyes met as he fastened himself against the new slew of bucking that the plane had set to.

The sudden motion startled others awake, and soon the cabin was filled with alarmed shrieks and frightened questions as they were bounced around the sky. Cries of doom, from the thought of being attacked to the plane breaking down piled and piled until not just the youngest began to cry. D grabbed his friends' hands in his own and tried to rationalize against the panic. So persistent were their shouts of foreseeing the worst that he might have lost himself if he did not have others to think of. His friends needed him to be clear-headed just as much as he needed himself to be.

The boy looked for Bakura and spotted him in his chosen position at the front, holding himself steady with one hand on the low ceiling of the aisle as he tried to turn in his seat, calling out for calm. People beside him flinched even as their next move showed their muscles untensing with a look of hope in their eyes; his dangerous reputation preceded him in those who did not know him well, and the distortion of his nature had not quite been unlearned. The boy focused amidst the violent shaking, trying to discern what he was saying, and felt sudden relief even as they took part in a jarring drop that had their belts strain against their stationary bodies. Everybody's fears were groundless and the screaming unnecessary. Most did not, or could not hear him though, and thus continued their panicked babbling.

"What's going on?!"

"Help, help, we're going to die!"

"Why did we agree to this?!"

"I don't want to die!"

"Please, stay calm! It's just—"

"Mama!"

"We must be viewed as enemies!"

"Oh no!"

"Don't say that!"

"We're fucked!"

"Everyone shut up!"

"Don't tell me to shut up!"

"Turbulence!" D shouted over the nearby voices, cupping his hands around his mouth to be heard better, trying to help Bakura with his message. "It's just turbulence! Tell everyone it's turbulence!"

"Turbulence!" Anzu joined him, and soon Claire and Amami added their voices to the cause. It started a ripple effect in the cabin, and soon the only shouting was the perpetuation of the word. The plane swayed twice more before evening out and the blip of the plane's intercom fuzzed on once more. Everyone quieted as they waited for the response.

"Sorry for the technical difficulties," Graham's voice cut through the air, sounding a little sheepish. "I know it's been some time since some of you have traveled like this, so this was probably an unpleasant reminder, but all is well. We just hit a little bit of turbulence; quite the rollercoaster ride, right?"

Forced laughter followed his playful inquiry.

"We'll try to be a little quicker with the warning next time," Graham promised, leaving D to cock his head curiously. The man almost sounded irritated, although not with the turbulence itself—if he had assessed the inflection correctly. If that was not the issue, then what was it?

With everyone settling down, the boy sank back in his seat and once again looked out of the window. The clouds loomed below, darker than before. Perhaps a storm was brewing. D fiddled with his belt, figuring that he would keep it secure in case of another rattling. A nigh imperceptible sigh of released tension passed through him.

"His socks," Etsu said quietly, her guess muffled in her mother's protective grasp. The elder children turned their attention to her as she pointed with a chubby finger to a man a few aisles up. Dressed in his best for the journey, the man shifted and his pantleg rose higher to show off a pair of dark gray socks. It would have indeed required a sharp eye to spot and was well within Claire's vantage point. Anzu straightened, then released Etsu from her hold—smoothing out the child's hair before readjusting the cap on her own. Her well-known smile failed to return as it normally would. Something had left her disturbed.

"Yeah," Claire replied weakly, the brunt of her adrenaline winding down, leaving her drained of her usual gusto. "His socks."

"How?" Amami asked, although D doubted she longed for an answer. She seemed to be looking for a distraction from the recent events, and her sudden, almost painful grasp upon his left arm—completely forgetting who resided there—only proved the point.

"She's her father's daughter," Anzu said, and a flicker of a pleasant expression returned to her face. She craned herself to look over the seat in a direction he knew Zoe, their clever, self-taught mechanic, had been stationed. D could tell she was having a wordless discussion with the other woman, although about what particulars he was unsure of. The boy wondered if she would even answer him if he asked her about the strain and stress that hid behind her expression and thought not. He spotted Bakura once again, moving toward the location of the galley and raised his free hand in a brief wave. Although he could not see his mouth, D could tell the man smiled in return. That was enough for the child, who took Claire's fidgeting hand in his own and thought with a bit of amusement that the sudden drop from before really was what a rollercoaster must have felt like. He wondered if Claire would have preferred that ride, or if this was enough for her.

As for the secretive concern on Anzu's face: it was what it was. For now, he would let the adults handle whatever problems they believed would arise.

"What the hell was that?" Bakura hissed, his mask stifling the sound to where it was almost difficult for the recipients to hear. The three individuals present peered around the corner of the small station and watched as the occupants settled back in. A palpable weight, like a heavy cover, lifted, but this trio did not partake in the sigh of relief. On the contrary, this group remained wound up and at attention for any other sign that something was amiss.

"Dunno," Jounochi muttered as he pulled back, "why isn't Yu—Game King here?"

"Told him to stay down," Bakura stated, "KC was paying attention."

"Did he see you?"

"Of course, he did. Thankfully, he didn't look like he recognized me, and Little Brother caught his attention soon after. Unlike me, I think Game King is a little more…obvious? Our cover would have been blown a little too early. What do you say, Cind?"

"It was a good call," the third interjected. The woman had been battle-ready from the moment they had left the ground. Although, even then she could strike a mean retail smile as she helped others with their minor discomforts in those earlier hours. "That was fucking nuts by the way. You see, that's why you'd have never caught me on a flight back when this shit was in better working order. We're batshit to be doing this."

"Such eloquence," Bakura replied with more than a hint of irony. "I think more are going to be in that camp now. Unfortunately, turning back changes nothing. These people had their reasons to leave and knew what this trip meant. As such…"

"We've gotta keep them happy."

"Exactly. So, watch how loudly you speak."

"Alright, alright…" she replied, rolling her eyes. "I'm beginning to see why 'one of the three' thought you were good for this sort of job."

"Please, let's not discuss that right now."

"The past's in the past, and this is an act. I get it." Her scrutinizing gaze hovered over him. "I'm just saying, you play the part of a hard-ass well. He would have liked that."

"Anyway," Jounochi said, redirecting the conversation for the sake of his friend's growing discomfort, "Do you think that what happened was interference of some kind?"

"I couldn't say for sure." Bakura shook his head, looking to one of the speaker boxes. "I think G tried to warn us about the turbulence before it actually happened, though."

"You really think it was turbulence?"

"Felt like it. And we aren't going down or anything."

"Tech said she checked everything," Cindy defended, affronted by the mere hint that something had gone wrong because of a mistake Zoe may have made. "And double checked the work of those who helped her. She really wanted this thing to go off without a hitch."

Jounochi raised an eyebrow. "When did she mention that?"

"We were talking before we started the flight," came her terse reply. "I can make friends, too."

"Wasn't saying you couldn't."

The friendly candor of the response threw the woman's ire off enough that she appeared to waver between her two personalities. Bakura offered an empathetic pat on her shoulder and could not help but agree that Zoe had been thorough. She had actually triple-checked, and had done so on multiple days. No, the unfortunate truth was that this was something that likely manifested in the cover of night—something hidden, and out of their control.

"Must be an unintended effect, then," Bakura stated darkly, his eyes flicking between theirs and the speakers. The cabin looked innocent enough, but it was the wiring underneath that held the chance of being the real culprit.

"Do you think this place is bugged?" Jounochi asked, horrified.

"Not exactly wise to spout that, now is it?" Cindy grumbled, shuffling her weight to-and-fro on each foot. "Anyone say something too damning?"

"I've been keeping to myself," Bakura said.

"Same," she said. "Easy for me, though. You're sitting next to people."

"Well," he said with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his head, "when everyone has the wrong impression, it's sort of easy."

"Ain't that the truth."

"Valentine mentioned something, but it was super vague, and it wasn't spoken loud enough for anyone to really hear," Jounochi said, "I doubt what she said would be enough, or too incriminating. Isn't there a small chance we're just being overcautious? Maybe it was just…I don't know, electrical interference?"

"Maybe. At any rate, be on high alert," Bakura warned, again watching the crowd. His eyes trained in on the back of a certain brunette's head, and his eyes narrowed. Even if they had not bugged the plane, someone else unwillingly served the same purpose. "We can't let our guard down just yet."

Everyone had to make it to safety. Bakura would suffer no failures this time.

Turbulence rocked them a few times more, leaving some to reach for the folded bags before them. The seated crowd was abuzz with anxious discussions, finally realizing the position they placed themselves in. Too much high-strung energy filled the air for most to return to the near silence, bolstered by the stale meals they had consumed. It mattered little near the end, however, as all in the cabin could feel the slightest dip in speed.

This was the moment of truth. The very lives of the passengers were in the hands of the two that assessed—based on assumptions, calculations, and memory—where the best spot to land would be. Everyone knew that they would be landing somewhere unknown to them, because to them, the placement mattered little, but the inner group knew it would not be some random field they would fly into. No, they would land in an airport. One that hopefully had a clear runway to do so.

Yugi glanced around, still a bit ashamed of having been startled awake, and wished for good luck repeatedly. All the people joining them were hoping for a new start, for whatever their reasons. He wished them well. Mostly, he hoped for a smooth landing, and once again missed having Anzu and his child by his side.

A few seats down, Kaiba kept his eyes closed, his face set as a fast as a statue. Not a soul would have been able to assess that he was frightened; but he was. This fear was not due to the landing, nor the fact that they may truly now be alone, but rather the chance that he had been wrong. Perhaps the being that had drunk from him had more in store, no matter the distance. Determined not to fall into despair, however, he thought on the protective aura of his Blue-Eyes White Dragon. He was not weak, he mentally chided, and he refused to give up or give in. Let whatever was to happen come his way. He would go down fighting.

Jounochi, from his seat, reflexively grabbed Mai's hand as he felt the front of the plane lower in its descent. Fear and excitement colored his face, and his cheeks reddened further as he felt her tightened grip in return. They might have been saying goodbye to a chapter in their life, but a new one was ready to be written, and he intended for it not to end in sorrow.

The trio of children formed a link with their arms, huddled to each other for comfort and to share in the thrill of something new. Claire and D's eyes were glued to the shifting scene through the small window, while Amami pressed her face against her ever stalwart friend—the ride being enough of a stimulation. Etsu whined from in front of them as Anzu taught her how to yawn on cue in an attempt to alleviate her little one's discomfort; an exercise to lessen her own. The woman also longed for her husband's presence, especially with the unspoken pressing issue in her mind. How hard it was to feel so separated during a time that could end in tears of joy, or anguish. Still, she did what she could to remain positive—she had the children's feelings to think about, as well.

Listening to the excited and nervous chatter, Bakura felt a wave of sickness settle into the pit of his stomach. He had full faith in everyone that the landing would go as planned, but this also placed him that much closer—ignoring the small sea between them and the mainland—to the place that called to him from deep within. Even as prepared as he knew they would ever be, it did not feel like enough to ward off the unpleasant omens of doom that scratched at the corners of his mind. The book above him seemed to pulse with renewed life, beckoning the worst toward them. A flaming beacon of ruin piercing this lightless night.

In the minutes that came it seemed that all held their breath as they felt themselves inch closer to the ground, and when the first squealing break of wheels on tarmac sounded, several expelled this breath in shouts of fear. Many clung to each other, or their seats, as they rolled at what felt like an impossible speed. Only when it decelerated to a level that the sound of the engines winding down filled their ears did their collective breathing slow, and every soul acted a perfect passenger; frozen in their seats, awaiting instruction even as the seatbelt sign flickered off. The loudest sound that came from them was the shuddering breath of a few that had taken poorly to the descent, their saviors barely offering their airsick bags in time in this second wave.

And then the ding of communication filled the cabin.

"Thank you for flying with us tonight," Graham said with the calm of a professional. "It was an honor to be your pilot. We took part in a wild ride, but we all got here in one piece. Please wait for our fine assistants to help you in the disembarking process and may we all find what we are looking for here. Stay together until we've all figured out how the locals will react. We'll doll out baggage and prepared rations as soon as everyone has filed out. I'm sure the change will hit us all soon, but remember, above all else—we did it everyone!"

The whole airplane erupted in cheers.

Below, unheard by everyone but a boy too distracted to notice the oddness of it, an abnormal shifting sound echoed where the bulkiest of baggage was stored. While one rested as intended, awaiting their newfound friends, others awoke and endeavored to complete their task.

They waited in perceived silence, "locked" behind storage until the time was right. Their master had set upon her own plans, and she was not one to underprepare.

And while they had not been able to contact any tower, they had still heard some fascinating discussion in the meanwhile.