Utopia

by YaYugi

Well, Amane, I've really done it this time." Yu-Gi-Oh x Vampire Hunter D crossover.

57. Cut Your Losses

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! or Vampire Hunter D.

Just a quick note that I will be trying to get the next chapter ready to post two weeks from now but I can't promise it will be on-time exactly. Otherwise, here is the second chapter I mentioned. I do apologize that it is so long, but I couldn't find a great breaking point...

Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter Fifty-Six: Cut Your Losses

Not too far off and in near identical time to the mass exodus to safety, a battered door jamb rattled with age and overexertion in the abandoned factory. D kept his lips firmly set, breathing stilled. He held back his desire (once more) to yell at his two friends behind him as even their best attempts to stifle their frightened panting failed. He motioned behind him with his right hand, his left facing the barred door. They shifted further back at his silent command. More noise. This time the sounds of their movements were at least deadened by the shouting from the other side.

Time ticked on like the drip of the weeping crack in the ceiling. Once he was certain his friends were as far back as they could be, he switched tactics. His fingers shook as they wrapped around the hilt of what had been up until now a pretty decoration. Slowly, deftly, he tugged the blade loose. His heartbeat quickened.

A thunderous bang shook the door. His blade made the slightest scraping noise against the scabbard. Another bang, this time the hinges twisted out of their original place. Amami's breath hitched as she silenced an incoming scream. Yet another bang, and the cool steel was pointed at their splintering defenses with purpose.

D allowed himself one measured inhale, his exhale following the screeching crack of the door folding in on itself. They had no one to call for help.

So, the matter fell into their own hands.

"Look at this, Bastard!" Claire shouted from behind the boy, who watched as she sprung forward, upset by her foregoing of his plan and in awe of her quick thinking. With the grime of some rotten muck from the corner of the room she had scrounged up an image on the front of some forgotten ledger. Their attackers leaped back like they had launched themselves into a pane of glass. The boy did not wait for them to gather their bearings. Claire had given him an opening and he was going to use it.

With a harsh exhale, D propelled himself forward and swung his sword with all his might, dancing away with a spin before the blood washed the ground with a crimson wave. His second slice was not so clean, and he let out a surprised yelp as his face was sprayed with gore. He stumbled back, rubbing at himself with his balled left hand and felt Claire dip forward again. She said words that sent a zinging pain through him, but pure agony to the others and smacked one that he had not fully downed with the marked side of the book. The smell of charred flesh overtook the moldy interior and it was just as well: the cross had been reduced to an inconsequential smudge. The girl tossed the useless bludgeon aside and ran back to Amami who held her own weapon at the ready.

D had no time to question the pair or predict their purpose before the arm of the second vampire shot out and wrapped itself around D's throat. He fought against the urge to drop his sword, instead using the angle to jam it deep into the man's body. The feeling of sinew and muscle snapping from the force he used reverberated through his blade, reminding him that they played no game—this was life or death.

A pained scream echoed in his ears that harmonized with Amami's war-cry. She sped up to them with a lunge, her knuckles white with the effort of her grip on the broken guitar neck. She slammed the damp wood into the side of the vampire's face before plunging it into his chest. It stuck, but she bounced backwards, her right palm cut by an errant string.

Before one of the other vampires had a chance to attack, Claire came up with her spray, dousing everyone in holy water. D hissed as droplets touched his uncovered hands, but it appeared to affect him far less than the others who shrieked and writhed in agony. Not wanting to waste this moment, the boy twisted around and shoved the makeshift stake deep into the man's heart. One downed. D left Claire to play distraction as he wrenched his blade from the other who had begun to advance again. His blade sang as it sailed in an arc, biting through flesh, slicing between bone.

And then he was shoved aside.

He staggered before falling to his knees, the gore making the ground beneath him slippery. He heard Amami scream and saw Claire sprawl beside him, the spray bottle falling from her hands and skittering to a corner. He looked up and saw the third vampire's claws flash, and he did not hesitate to protect the prone girl from the attack.

D felt himself connect with a wall yet again, stunned by pain and the realization of what they were attempting. Using every bit of effort, he lifted himself to see Claire gripping her last weapon, the dulled kitchen blade. Dimly aware he was losing blood from the wounds he suffered, he tried to stand. His brain burned with fear seeing his friend in such a helpless position and worry that he would not be able to make it in time to save her. He shivered, unable to make sense of his heart: was it beating too fast, or too slow?

He saw Amami jump to the girl's defense. As her foot sprung her from the ground, as Claire raised her arm upward, trying to plunge the knife into the man's opened mouth, D raised his bloodied hand and licked it on impulse. His body shuddered once more, readjusting to a change he was still relatively unfamiliar with. The being in his hand worked overtime to preserve the body that was already healing, just not fast enough. Although he understood what occurred, he paid little attention to any of this; rather, he allowed his instincts to guide him. The red glow of the supernatural in his eyes acted as the main sign that something had changed.

By the time he was in motion, the active vampire had been stunned, not killed, by the blade tainted by holy water, leaving the girl enough time to abandon the blade and wriggle out from under him. Amami was pivoting to go for the plastic container. She must have seen that as better help than her original plan. To give them time to regroup, D pressed his own attack, snatching the blade from the man's melting features and stabbing at him repeatedly.

He heard the girls scream but could not turn himself away. The other vampire had him in his clutches again and self-preservation had kicked in. Even the realization that it was the Great One's son did not save D from the man's vicious defense. More screaming filled the boy's ears as he stabbed—not realizing it was his own voice, nor the pain he was currently in—while fingers sunk into the soft flesh beneath his ribcage. He went after the nameless vampire's eyes once more, biting down and tearing a chunk of the other's face away in retribution to that unnamable sensation.

The howl of agony before him, and the hands that tugged him down were the only things that stilled the boy's assault. His feet touched the floor and he sank to his knees for an instant before he was dragged away. He breathed laboriously, glancing behind him at the broken entrance where he saw the two undead creatures thrashing about in misery. The one he thought of as "the third", whose face was mending itself at that very instant, turned his head in their retreating direction. The boy felt the true meaning of the phrase "if looks could kill" in that blind glare.

"Grab your fucking shit and stand up, you're heavy!" Claire demanded, and D shook his head, pushing himself to stumble along at their pace. Tears fell from his eyes, red, unclean. He felt the hilt of his sword smack into his opened palm and he gripped it to feel a focal point of stability. A sweet and cloying scent followed them, an obvious trail. Who was leaving that trail? D gagged in hunger.

"He's bleeding," he heard Amami whisper. Why was she whispering? It was too loud anyway. They would be followed.

"We're all bleeding, dummy! We need to get help!"

"I thought they were supposed to just kidnap him?"

"No," D said, forcing his mouth to function. His teeth felt like they were getting in the way. "Hurt them too bad. Personal…not…noth…not thinking."

They tripped their way down the stairs, searching for any outward exit. Raging sounds echoed from above, but they all pressed forward, D finally well enough to follow unsteadily on his own, his bag once again slung over his shoulder. He pulled his turtleneck over his face, trying to filter out the scent of the two beside him. An urge he was struggling to suppress assaulted his senses, leaving him very disoriented.

Both of his friends looked a wreck. Hair clung to the sides of their faces, years of dirt, dust, and who knew what else stuck to their skin, but they were alive. Their heartbeats pounded obviously in his over-sensitive ears. He silently hoped that the rain would wash away that other scent. For a second, he paused, swayed, and moved on again with them, his restraint weakening every minute.

"I want my daddy…" Amami groaned as they reached the entrance. The sound of destruction loomed ever closer. The children looked up wearily, questioning their chances of survival. "I want to go home."

"Same…I miss my parents," Claire commiserated. She moved a hand to check her gun, thought against it, and instead unlocked the door before them.

"I want Bakura-sama…" D said, joining them. The two girls looked to him, and then to each other, now more worried than ever. The boy had done the most damage, but he was also the most injured of all of them. Even though he was healing, he looked terrible. Plus, he rarely shared such emotions. That was unless something was wrong. Very wrong.

"So, let's go," he finished, pulling himself together as best as he could after exposing his sentiments in such a way. He flicked his blade, the force just enough to clear the blood from the steel, and then slid it back into its sheath. The feeling of killing a human had hit him before, but this death was new. They had killed a vampire and had two more on their trail. He felt no joy in the memory, but a strange sense of necessity filled him. What was it that his father said, prone to philosophize at the child who trailed him? Transient guests? One day he might have to remind his father's people of that phrase. He nodded to his friends, who composed themselves and nodded back. There was no more time to waste.

He flung the door open.

Rain still poured, but to the observant the droplets were waning. Soon there would be little cover. Still, they were safer where they could dive into the murky depths of the river than trapped amongst the distant flames. They hurried out and D silently closed the door, hoping that no one who regained their sight would get the bright idea and jump out of one of the front windows or through the strange vent-like protrusions. He then pointed to the opened gate and curved his finger, indicating they were to go around as planned and take the back way to safety. The children made to follow the unspoken route—until they saw Wanatabe appear just beyond the gate.

Amami almost shouted for him in glee, but Claire slapped a hand over her mouth. She pointed upward to where their enemies may have gathered their bearings and shook her head. Unfortunately, this warning was not understood nor heeded by the older man who had caught sight of the three. His eyes lit up at their presence and he let out a surprised laugh.

"Amami-chan! Everyone? Is that you?!" the man cried.

Amami wrenched away to shout her affirmation and ran the length of the unloading area, falling into his arms. The pair rocked back and forth with their relief, their words to each other incoherent as they pressed their faces cheek to cheek.

Claire could not help but slap her forehead in irritated resignation before following the girl. D gave one last glance at the large window of the factory as he shadowed his friends, hardly able to keep pace with them. He fretted with each step on how he was to pressure them to move when he was in such a state. They did not have time to hold a reunion now.

Wanatabe looked upon the others first reassured by their presence; however, his face fell in horror of their appearance. D was about to say not to worry but to run when two auras caught his attention. They flared with malice. He shoved Claire into the man's arms and screamed for the man to take them and go, diving past the bars with a new flush of adrenaline.

Time began to run at a strange pace. Wanatabe pulled them past the gate just as glass shattered from the second story window, bent metal crashing to the ground as a final warning gong. Shards of clear crystals replaced raindrops, raining down in slow motion as everyone turned toward the wreckage. Two livid vampires stormed out of the chaotic destruction, practically steaming with their rage and the signs that their wounds continued healing, giving the children no time to explain their injuries. It was no longer necessary. Their enemies had found them.

Wanatabe's eyes widened and fear seized him for an instant. Only when Amami cowered back did he seem to be shaken back to his senses, realizing what the children had faced and what could befall them all if they did not escape in time. He did not need further clarification as to why they needed to run. The man touched his daughter's face with tenderness before releasing her fully from his hold. A strange look wavered on his face that none of the children could decode. "I love you dearly, my little one."

"I love you, too," she said in return. "We have to go."

"I know. Go."

Amami blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Run!" Wanatabe shouted, pushing them to move on.

"You, too!" Amami yelled, tugging on her father's hand. The other two looked on just as perplexed as the girl. Was he unwilling to join them?

Shaking his head, he pushed his daughter aside. The girl looked to D in dismay. With seconds to change the man's mind, D felt dizzy with all the possible things to say.

"They'll kill you!" D reasoned. Why, his mind screamed, why now, of all times, did the untested human want to go against such an enemy? "We don't have time. We need you with us!"

"Let's goooo!" Claire snapped, disinclined to continue with this discussion. She grabbed Amami's hand and dragged her with her. Amami screamed for her father but did not fight the other girl—just continued to demand for her father's cooperation.

Wanatabe turned to D and said quickly, "If it hadn't been for you, my girl would be dead for a second time. Thank you. I must return the favor now. You know as well as I do that right now you need a distraction. I'll do what I can, but remember you have to go to the—"

The man was cut off as the vampires sped at him. He shoved the boy after the girls before trying to swing at one of their incoming assailants. D ran backwards, his face refusing to show the anguish of watching the man on his suicidal mission. There was nothing but a few seconds to gain; necessary, yes, but in the long run that only worked if the man fought back long enough before he was killed. Wanatabe could not have been thinking straight. Questions filled the boy's mind, but he had been given little option to share them. Nor could he squander this chance they had been given. The man's bravery could not be wasted. The boy twisted around and ran after his friends. Reaching the end of the block, he heard the unpleasant gurgle of the man's final gasp and the cry of Amami, as if she knew…as if she had seen his death.

"Follow the plan!" D directed, grateful that those few seconds bought seemed to up his speed. The need for blood remained, though, pounding in his head like a bad headache. His throat felt dry even as rainwater doused them once more. His heart went out to his friend; senseless death seemed to surround them at every turn. Although now, the losses made him numb, much like the rain that chilled his body to an unnatural degree. His misery came from another source.

"The plan was different!" Claire shot back as Amami bawled while she ran. No one tried to stop her from emoting so. She deserved to express her grief.

"Revise first-half, follow second-half. Don't play games! You know where to go if we have to split up…I'll follow."

None of the children could guess why the distraction worked so well in their favor, but they appreciated the sacrifice as much as they hated it all the same. Ducking and hopping through the obstacle course that the city had become, they raced past a few stragglers that they hoped would be out of sight before their foes came this way. Not one of them wanted to envision the demise of innocents or the mental image of the two vampires engorging themselves on what was left of the poor man.

"We're almost there!" Claire cried breathlessly as they reached the familiar road that would lead them to the airport.

D hugged his side, his stride improving every step for all the pain it caused. Soon he would be back to dragging the others along. Their stamina was surely low, and he was unsure if they could last until they arrived at their destination. Still, he could not bring himself to reach out to them in his state—that damnable thirst caused his panting rather than the actual effort to run. He knew the time he had bought with his own blood was running out. He would be no match for a vampire fed and healed, let alone two.

"Water," his hand snapped, catching his attention. "Water, water!"

"Can it wait?" He pleaded. The words would be taken as a sign of weakness, but he had his friends to think about. No, he could not even think about them. That smell was getting worse. If he even turned—

One of them would die.

"Tilt your damn hand up. I need it to keep our asses alive. You find some earth on the way, and we'll be good to go. I can make the rest."

"Can't," he whimpered, damning himself for giving the thing more ammunition to use against him.

"Yes, you can," it barked back. "This is where I come in. If you're going to recklessly throw our lives aside like—"

"Stop!"

"Well, you thought it, too," it stated nonplussed. "Anyway, I have a duty to keep you breathing you little shit, and the next time I guess I'll try my hand at that little 'gift' you warned me about. We're sort of out of options."

"Oh, what gave you that idea," D chuckled, doing as he was told as he continued to run. A spiteful smirk touched his lips at the sarcasm dripping in his voice. There was little joy elsewhere.

"Glad you're pulling it together," his hand said after a few gulps of rainwater. "You had me worried there."

"Worry the day my heart stops beating."

"Duly noted. Although, knowing you, you'll die just to inconvenience me."

"Stop talking about death!" Claire cut in. She shoved a handful of dirt into D's right hand. With a shake of her head she discouraged his questioning look. "I heard you guys talking about it. You're moving as fast as we are…you're going so slow. Get better." She then nodded back towards Amami. The girl ran mechanical strides just behind them, her eyes red, puffy, but no longer producing tears. Her sorrow had fallen too deep for them.

D nodded, transferring the load to his left hand.

Soon the airport loomed ahead, and the children made a mad dash for it. They stumbled inside, gasping either for air or from pain, and fell into a heap upon the tiled floor. They lay there for a moment, all taking in the hell that they had gone through. D allowed himself these few seconds to black out from the pain before forcing himself to his knees to assess his friends once more.

Or he would have, if a white charge of lightning had not blazed its way through a barely visible corridor. The very one they would need to pass into to reach their true destination.

"What was that?" D asked as he pushed himself to stand.

"A vampire? No? I don't care," Claire proclaimed, laying on the floor like one poised to create a snow angel.

"Why'd he do that?" Amami asked. Her voice was dull, hopeless. "He was the only one I had left."

"You have us," D replied, blunter than he had intended, although the message was the same. He staggered through the "check-in" line to find the source. He had heard distant screams, although those were everywhere tonight.

"Come on, we need to get up," Claire said, resigning herself to more running. She rolled over and gathered her despondent ally who flopped in the direction she was forced to go.

"I want my daddy," Amami said again, and the pair wished they could let her mourn in peace. Yet, there was still much to be done and more danger to face if that flash of indoor electricity was anything to go by. They glanced to the empty sidewalk and all felt a wave of minor reprieve before moving further inside. The cold gray pathway remained empty.

Out of all that D expected, it had not been close to the sight that greeted them. Kaiba lay on the floor, clearly unconscious near the back of the room. Otogi was slumped against a wall curled in on himself, clutching his chest. Graham…D thought he saw the man sprawled amid the other bodies, unmoving. Mokuba appeared somewhat aware of his surroundings, although D noticed a distinct dark marking all around him, and his leg was missing up to the knee. D covered Amami's eyes, not considering the light was too dim within the room for her to see much of the gory scene before her. Shapes were probably the best either girl could manage at the moment.

"Everyone?" He called out, and Mokuba glanced up in ferocious attention. Alive and unwilling to give up. His response brought unfettered tears to D's eyes and he let himself weep for he did not know the next time he would get the chance. The boy would have felt terribly if he had caused the others to cry, but they had begun even before he had. They shuffled into the room, defeated in their victory, finding the temporary safety comforting.

Naïve to the present situation, Bakura grappled with his quarry, unable to focus on anything more than the present embittered battle for the sake of his own extended existence. The strain behind the other's efforts to break free made his bones ache to the core. His teeth gritted in a grimace; sheer providence seemed to be the only excuse as to how he had gained this upper hand precarious as it was. Perhaps one of the beings on his personal extermination list still wanted him alive. As it stood, he was glad for it. His fast talking could only take effect if the vampire beneath him could be interrupted enough in his attack to listen to sense. The young man finished his explanation of his side of the story amidst fighting to keep his arms locked in position, hoping his words were sufficient.

"And that's the whole of it," Bakura said, silently thanking Ewan Greylancer for his teachings. A fleeting afterthought of thanks followed for the spirit's helpful memories. The vampire remained shocked that for all his strength, the position and leverage remained in the human's favor.

"That…can't be…"

"It is!" Bakura shot out his strangled gasp as he held tighter, continuing to restrain the other in their impasse. "I have nothing…nothing to gain from any of the actions that I've taken unless that was the end result! See sense and be my ally!"

Red eyes bore into him as the vampire twisted to confront his battered opponent. That fiery gaze searched for any sign of a lie and found itself matched with cold obstinance. Apparently finding the response satisfactory, the vampire relaxed, allowing Bakura to release the tension in his own muscles. A painful moan slipped form his lips; his new wounds ached under the pressures of the absence of his adrenaline high.

"That would mean that he—"

"Yes," Bakura said, slightly slurring his words following a particularly painful throbbing in—well—everything. He could have laughed at his quandary: it was a question of how much damage needed to be taken to arrive at an amicable discussion. Evidently, the damage totaled to quite a lot, and still he had to pay with trust. Trust that the supernatural being would not turn around and attack him now that his defenses were down. "To say you were misinformed would be putting it lightly. Anyone following him is, although I'm sure plenty wouldn't dare question his methods. I could have never explained this to Amelia. I think you know that—I didn't have the time nor the sway to have her listen to me. Please, let there be no hard feelings between us."

The vampire growled, licking a dribbling of Bakura's blood that lay upon his clawed fingers. The young man seated beside him frowned deeply at the act. This attitude was returned with a raised eyebrow before the vampire flicked his wrist in one swift motion to clear the rest of it from his hand.

"If you want to be allies, you shouldn't be so stingy."

"If you hadn't been willing when you first joined their ranks, I think you'd understand my predicament. My blood is reserved for someone else anyway."

"Understandable. He would be the most deserving of it. Albeit…I'm surprised it is so pure. Not a 'maiden's' perhaps, but still. At your age it people have usually had s—"

"That's not a topic up for discussion right now, or ever, with you," Bakura said, livid splotches flooded his beaten cheeks.

"I'm just pointing out—"

"Point out things related to anything else but that, please."

"Maybe I would have understood better," a flash of his fangs followed the other man's words. "You could have requested my aid politely, though. You suffered a lot of damage for your troubles."

"That's where you're wrong…uh…Mr…?"

"Arthur."

Bakura's expression of amused skepticism garnered him a laugh. "It's pure happenstance that that's my name and we are where we are. Just call me Art like everyone else does. I'm not huge on formalities when it comes to myself."

"Art, then," the beaten man said with a snort. "You weren't ready to listen to me yet. Had I pleaded my case without you knowing anything, you would have killed me. Think about how you immediately came after me. Not exactly the most welcoming way of saying 'I'll hear your side first' now was it? I'd say I got lucky if this is all I suffered."

"You certainly aren't dead…" Arthur sighed, stood, and quickly paced their impromptu arena. "Impressive."

"He hasn't killed me yet, either."

"I already called you impressive; trying to tempt another bit of praise out of me?"

"What?" Bakura cocked his head.

"Nothing."

Bakura blinked in confusion at the derailing comment. Choosing to ignore it, he instead asked, "So…will you help us? He doesn't want to go back, but that doesn't mean everyone can't work together in some capacity. Humanity isn't dead yet."

Arthur scratched his chin. "Not for lack of trying."

It was Bakura's turn to raise an eyebrow. The vampire continued to pace, unbothered by the other's vexed expression.

"I could be killed for this," he said with a rueful grin. "But I can't in good conscience not help you. I might be aggressive…but I'm not an idiot."

Bakura let out a sigh of relief. Maybe he had assessed those that Amelia had sent too harshly. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. We still have to persuade the others."

"The others…I don't think the human side will be very forgiving of the deaths you caused."

"You said it yourself that the ones I attacked were crazed and hopped up on some moral superiority. You know, there is a chance that a few of mine will be injured in this. There are signs those…people…have won before. I simply caught you all unaware in your little squabble. Their tricks had probably been spent elsewhere."

"That's true."

"We will have to consider the losses in our compromise, of course, but—"

"Do you think your friends will be as 'aggressive' as you were?"

He nodded. "Definitely. We were aware of enough to put some pieces of the puzzle together. Just none of these other elements you've shared with me. Hopefully, your other friends are fast talkers…I do hope Otogi comes out of it alright with the task you set him to. He's fun to be around."

"Do you smell smoke?" Bakura asked, remiss to change the subject, but he felt it was necessary. Most of his body wished to end the conversation entirely—his nose, however, felt oddly sensitive and caught the scent beneath the petrichor.

"Yes. Good catch. Wonder what that's all about?" The vampire mused as he stood, offering his arm to help the other up. Bakura gladly took it. Once standing, he dabbed the cut on his lip with a hand shaking with exhaustion. He watched his quivering fingers before willing them to still. His trials were not over yet; he needed to remain composed a little longer.

"I don't know, but I suppose we should go find out."

Bakura may have correctly surmised the length of their battle, yet he had not known how far their fight had taken them. Neither side had played clean or fair, and that had wound them through and around many back alleys, walkways, and buildings. The two walked close together as they traversed the oddly abandoned road, both stunned at how different the landscape looked from the last time their attentions beheld it. Bakura appreciated that Arthur looked as sickened as he felt. Compared to this newly devastated terrain, Bakura's wounds amounted to a friendly scuffle.

Arthur faced the smoking buildings, mouthing his disbelief while they slowed their pace on the vacant path. A feeling Bakura mirrored, exacerbated by a foreboding cloud that refused to disperse in his mind. As he was about to follow the vampire to investigate what had captured his attention, Bakura paused mid-step, having caught sight of a strange undulating mound in the darkness. He squinted and when unable to decipher what it was, ran up to it. His new companion wrest himself from his thoughts and hurried after him, but not before Bakura caught sight of the two crouched figures…and the body they hovered over.

"Oh…" Bakura moaned in protest, his notes becoming more hysterical with each utterance. "Oh no. No, no, no, no!"

The two beasts before him raised their heads and their bloody fangs told Bakura the story he did not want to believe. He let out a howl of grief, clutching his face, and the two launched themselves at him for a dual attack. Arthur acted as his bodyguard while he remained stunned by the sight, the man knocking the two aside with the force of an elder in their ranks.

"Why?" Bakura cried, moving to Wanatabe's body, blind to the attack on his person. He crouched, pulling what remained of the man close to him. He ignored the strange lolling of the attacked neck as he cradled his head. It was clear they had just finished what little had been left within him. The man's features were as pale as the sliver of moonlight that eked its way through a hole in the formerly storming clouds. "He was a good man! He had…"

"So was our friend! But those bastard children killed him!" One of the feasters snapped. Their tone hid none of their darkened menace. "This one would have attempted the same! You—why'd you stop us?" He turned to Arthur, speaking to him with that comfortable familiarity that working closely together brought.

"Killed?" Bakura stared at the corpse, trying to understand what was being said. "Children?"

"Yes," the other vampire snarled, "the little—"

Arthur, who had been monitoring the situation in silence in case it escalated further, took an unexpected step back. He shook his head as if the nameless vampires had struck him. "Wait, you mean like…the Great One's…"

"Does it even matter anymore? He's been brainwashed—clearly gone traitor! He kills our kind!"

The young man seemed to snap out of his trance, incensed. "You went after my children?!"

Gently resting Wanatabe against the pavement once more, Bakura moved to advance on the vampires who tensed, all too eager for a fight. Arthur intervened once more by stepping between them.

"You can't be serious," he stammered, his cool lost by the pure audacity. "You attacked his child?!"

"They killed Michael!"

"In self-defense, you utter idiots!" Arthur roared. "We had clear instructions, expectations! If they wanted to join the boy so badly you could have just lured all of the children with you! You have the skills! They are just children, for the love of—"

He cut himself off, slamming his fist against his thigh, although its direction had been questionable for a second. "You had them in your sights, and we had a duty! Did you never want to meet him? You'll be lucky if he doesn't strike your heads from your fucking shoulders!"

"They—"

"Are children!" Bakura shouted, joining in the ridicule. "You mean to tell me you immediately went on the offensive with CHILDREN? What kind of idiots is she employing?! What kind of idiots is that man employing?!"

All appeared shocked by his words. One of the vampires he did not know sputtered before spitting out, "How dare you?!"

"I dare," Bakura fumed. "I dare spit in the face of some great old one that acts like he knows all but allows complete morons to be called upon to collect someone who is supposedly so precious to him! If he doesn't kill you for this, I will!"

In his fury, an aura that he had held back permeated the area. Those surrounding him backed away in alarm—even his new ally, who considered him carefully in this different light. This was the same man that had called for reason during their own fight, now poised with a previously unseen vigor to attack in the name of the one he had sworn to defend. It led further credence to his story, and a new respect for what he could accomplish. A singular "punch" pulled for the sake of saving a life. Now, everyone in the vicinity might pay for the mishandled situation.

Arthur swallowed. His gritted teeth said he knew what had to be done but hated it all the same. With a swift movement his hand split the vampire beside him in two, the act expressing where his loyalty lay. His former friend gawked at him in shock before Bakura leapt upon the remaining offender, twisting the creature's neck full around before lowering his own head to commit an unspeakable act. He had no weapon but himself, no cutting force but his own teeth.

He did not cease until he completed the job.

Arthur waited, watched, flinched as Bakura threw the head aside. Stomped on the heart he plucked from the opening before any healing could outwit him. He waited still as he allowed the man to stagger away and vomit the contents of his stomach behind the blue gates of some desolate factory. It was only when the young man returned to rest his head against his friend's corpse to weep that the vampire said anything.

"It had to be done," Arthur said. Although Bakura could not see it, the other man was shaking his head. "He gave expressed orders to kill only when necessary but he never…he would never tell us to kill children. Absolutely never his son. It's asinine—not even remotely close to what was expected of us. Amelia relayed his words to us this past summer and reminded us of the exact instructions before we left. Not even her additions allowed for that kind of action. They…were liabilities." Even as he said this, his face drooped with his own sorrow. "Idiots. Morons…There was no need for any of this."

Bakura nodded but said nothing. Liabilities…was he not his own special brand of such stock? How long would this "friendship" last if that were the man's line of thought? Yet, this concern barely scratched his inner turmoil. He felt trapped in a spiral of woe; his mind refused to leave the thought of the poor girl who was now fatherless. What would he tell Amami?

The vampire hovered over his former friends, their states of decay and ruin sending his face into a new emotion for Bakura to consider. Even in his state, the young man recognized the ill look and found it strange. Sadness, he would have understood, but was a vampire not used to such a scene?

"Are you sure you are human?" Arthur asked. He shot a sideways glance at the other as he rubbed his face in thought.

"Yes," Bakura said, stirred enough to be annoyed. Such delicate sensibilities for a predator. "You weren't expecting that?"

"Clearly."

"We have to find them," Bakura said, cutting off further discussion on the topic with his abrupt words. With care, he gave the man who had extended friendship to him during his first trial home a final hug before rising. He then lifted the corner of his own shirt, using it and the slow drizzle of rain to clear his face of everything but the cuts and bruises that looked far better than before. He stared at his cleaned hands for a moment, wondering not for the first time just how much he believed his own words. Those hands balled into fists. He was human!

It did not erase his disgust with himself for what he had done in retaliation. If he had only thought to bring either of his weapons with him. How foolish he felt for assuming the world would play nicely and by his rules.

"May the rest that came with me have had more sense," Arthur said, shaking his head. He looked up to see Bakura already walking off. "Where are you going?"

Bakura took a moment to mark the street in his memory. He wanted to be able to come back when everything was over. It was the least he could do to help Wanatabe in his final rest. Running his tongue over his teeth, he bit it slightly in thought before facing the vampire again. "The airport. I think we'll need to take the long way, though."

Indeed, they did. Most attempts to shorten their travels ended in dead ends. Along the way they came upon Mai and her amalgamation of people that had followed her directives. She waved at Bakura but paused when she saw the stranger beside him. Bakura offered her a humorless grin, waving off her concerned expression. He knew what caught her eye.

"He's fine. I'll tell you everything after you tell me what is happening here."

Mai raised an eyebrow. "The way you say that…"

"I bring bad news," he stated, cutting her off. "But that's after. Tell me."

She inhaled deeply through her nose. "You're as bad as…you know."

"Come on, give him credit," Bakura said. "He's been trying."

"So…you stop?"

"No. But we really don't have time to argue who goes first. Tell me what is going on."

"Can we—" Her gaze scanned over the stranger in their midst.

"Mai…tell me."

Begrudgingly, Mai did. As she spoke, many around her stared apprehensively at the two newcomers, fear alight in the shine of their eyes. Only when her retelling reminded them of the temporary haven that they were being shepherded did the bunch calm again. She had already warned them of the horrors in the underground tunnel and slapped sense into those that stayed—any who did not wish to follow had not bothered to consider her help anyway. These were people tired of the strain...of the lies they told themselves at night. Mai and those with her had promised to set things right. This was something the fearful congregation wanted desperately to believe. Perhaps these people were a part of her plan; the outsider Bakura, after all, had come with her. He seemed not to fear the tall, deathly pale man beside him.

The plan at its heart was simple. Get the innocent as far away from the damage as possible. Broaching reality had been a more delicate but necessary process. Bakura's friends had managed to navigate that storm with a balance he envied—or would have if Mai's face had not faltered as she spoke of it. To survive, the survivors, for what else were they, had to face the ugly truth of their former attempts at scrabbling for a semblance of security—and realize the faults in their methods. Mai delegated and everyone remaining followed, although she refused to take full credit for the transitions over to the other side of the river. Anzu and Yugi had braved that adventure. Thus far, no one appeared to exist on that other end of the city, but it was too soon to assume why. They had a more pressing problem to face, anyway.

"There are other vampires, but it seems you know that."

Bakura nodded. "And it's created a misunderstanding of colossal proportions."

"You don't say," Mai snorted, shooting a cool, derisive glare at the man beside her friend. "We had a little run in ourselves and were attacked. For no reason, mind you. Simon and Wanatabe were a big help—"

"Simon and Wanatabe?"

"Oh no you don't. Now you," Mai said, crossing her arms. Bakura looked away from her, trying to contain his tears, and saw Simon hurrying back with another batch of frightened looking people. 'Wanatabe should have been a part of that party', he thought bitterly. Why had he been alone? Alone. Something within him snapped. Bakura had left the children at home and yet somehow, they had managed to be separated. Even after all the times he unloaded his intuitive worries onto the man…the audacity that he could smile at him at this very moment!

"Wanatabe's dead," Bakura replied bluntly, anger against his friends festering. That was until he saw Mai. The wind appeared to be knocked out of her; so, she had not known. But she had been home? He wondered in her stunned silence how this predicament had manifested.

"That's impossible!" Mai finally exclaimed. "He was just—"

"Arthur—or Art as he has asked me to call him—is one of Amelia's men," he jabbed a thumb at the man beside him, who nodded politely at her. "We had to kill two others that had killed Wanatabe. Keep doing what you're doing; it is the best situation that we can hope for if you save these people. I'm going to go find the children."

"Do you know where they are?"

"If they aren't home with you?" he said, his words laced with spite not meant for her.

Mai shook her head. "It's complicated. Anzu, Zoe and I had just left…the guys—they found us later and said that the house was demolished—with no one inside. It doesn't make sense."

"No," Bakura agreed. "It really doesn't. As for where the kids are, I'm guessing the airport. It's the most obvious escape and Otogi is supposed to be stationed there. However, that's only if he returned. He was looking for whoever had come out of the crates."

"Whoever had what?" she questioned, now gawking at the vampire. "You mean him? Was that where they came from?"

"Yes. At least the ones I'm talking about. There were some things that we weren't made aware of, but that's neither here nor there until we're all together again."

"Got it. But if that's the case, here's some other information for you then: some of those who came with us have defected over," Mai informed, running her fingers through her hair. Her eyes glimmered with tears of frustration. "I was trying to be quick when explaining things to you, and I know we don't have time, but I can't let you go off without warning you about this. They—the defectors…God, we're losing people all over the place…they got Lewis and Josseline in the confusion…"

"Got them?" Bakura asked, fearing the worst. She did not seem to hear since she rattled on without clarification.

"Aoki joined them—she joined them! —Kay didn't make it, and Albert's watching over an injured Jessica and Theo on the other side."

"Probably Cindy," he mused.

"Whatever. They're hurt really bad. The people who were alerted by whatever crazy code they have did enough. Some of them were screaming to run to the bridge for true salvation. I hope they fucking drown."

The losses they were taking reminded Bakura too much of Domino, only this time it was a mix of misunderstanding and misplaced hatred. Their numbers were dwindling but it appeared they still had the upper hand based on who they allied themselves with, the leverage they did not have back then, and there was a high chance to successfully save the town from a full implosion if they could get the rest of Amelia's people on their side. Yet, he would consider it a total loss if anything happened to the children. He rested his hand over his heart, remembering his promise to the recently deceased.

Once again Bakura caught sight of the bespectacled man who was making his way towards them. He offered a cool nod to Simon, then turned from him. There were more important matters to tend to.

"Arth—Art," Bakura said, "you're faster, but I don't want anyone to attack you if you surprise them. We can both benefit from this, but not if you die."

"I was about to suggest I continue forward while you stayed here to help your friends."

Bakura glanced at Mai who shrugged. It brought a little hope back into the young man to see the fight had not left her completely demoralized. "They've got it handled here. The kids definitely won't trust you…Piggyback me over there?"

"I'm not a horse," Arthur said, annoyed.

"Clearly, but we run the risk of losing everything if we don't work together. Humans and vampires, we've got to try coexisting if even just this once." 'If only D's father had taken that approach with me, with anyone,' Bakura thought. 'We'd be in such a different position.' He extended his hand. "Don't take it personal and just help me."

They made it to the airport in record time. Bakura flew down the main hallway, nearly missing his intended targets for all his rushing. Arthur remained a few paces back, poised for any ambush that may overtake either of them. An apt choice, as Bakura did not wish to frighten the children further. What stilled his steps was a sickening whiff of blood in the air, and when the girls saw the young man poised outside the ruined doorway, they burst into a new wave of tears, grateful but so filled with sorrow. D appeared completely on edge and almost refused to hug the man even as he reached for him. Bakura ignored the half-hearted protest and pulled them all in for a much-needed hug. He held them and let them release their sadness while his eyes drifted to face the hell that was the cramped room with tired eyes.

"Someone please explain," he said wearily.

"We were attacked," Mokuba replied, although his voice had weakened substantially from the last time he had tried to soothe the children. "Otogi was doing what you guys agreed to, I guess. We found him already hurt, although he did end up killing his attacker. We were trying to get his story and tell ours, but then a mob of people came in, all human I should clarify, and just—" In the dim he half raised an arm already scarred from his previous brush with the supernatural. "Fucked us all up."

"Graham is here," D relayed, his voice shaking.

"He was with some of ours who were trying to slow the crowd. I think Otogi," Mokuba motioned to his neck. "But I dunno if it worked to save either of them."

"I can be the judge of that," Arthur responded, walking into the room. Mokuba looked on horrified while the children tried to jump away. Bakura shook his head and tried to quell them.

"I know it's hard to believe right now, but he's on our side," he soothed, smoothing D's hair. He transitioned to patting Claire's back, refusing to release Amami with his other arm. She rested against him, inconsolable. He worried harder on how to tell her.

"They killed her daddy!" Claire spat, enraged. Ah, then she knew. Bakura's heart went out to her. Her pain was familiar to him, thus he held her closer. He remembered wanting someone's comfort all those years ago, and not just pitying stares.

"He didn't," Bakura reasoned. "He was with me." Squinting at the man in the dim light, he added, "Check him please."

The vampire nodded. "Such a damned waste, all of this," he muttered, surveying the room before kneeling to assess the man.

Mokuba grimaced as he shifted from his position on the wall. "Has my brother moved yet?"

"I'll check," D said. The boy caught Bakura's eye, and even though it was dark it seemed to the others like they held a silent conversation. The boy pulled himself away unhappily, but he felt stabilized and ready to give help. D knew Bakura would have gone in his stead, but the others needed the man's comfort more. Also, as much as he hated it, he knew Bakura was aware of what else he needed. While the boy did not know how much longer he could hold back his urges he knew he had to, if only for his own sanity.

D did not need to get close to sense the man's heartbeat, which was well enough. A wave of hunger shook him, and he hugged his left hand close to his body to center himself once more. Finally grounded, he dared go no further. While there was a clear scent of dried blood in the air, it was the underlying thumping that called to him. A flicker of movement in a partially curled fist brought him back to his task. He did not force a smile, but his words brought on more relief than he could know.

"He's unconscious, but his hand moved. He might be waking up."

"Thank you," Mokuba sighed in gratitude. D watched the younger brother drift in and out of awareness and wondered if he would survive the injury that he sustained in whatever onslaught they had faced. The boy pitied the pair; the chance Kaiba might awaken to find his brother dead was a bitter pill to swallow. Mokuba was a good guy. Still, D steeled himself for that moment in case it occurred.

"Graham?" Bakura asked, moving the immediate check in along. Something about the calm in his voice soothed that deep ache within D. Things were wrong, and they were in a bad position, but Bakura was there. The boy felt lucky amidst the terrible circumstances. He could have lost him. A selfish thought, but he allowed himself to revel in its silent existence.

"He's alive," Arthur concluded. "Although I don't know what you saw, since he's very human. As to how long he'll last…I think you, young man, have a better chance." He shook his head at Bakura. "We have to stop this madness."

"And here I am missing part of my leg," Mokuba drawled in his pain-induced stupor. With effort, he explained their run in with those that attacked and his subsequent limb loss. "I'd joke about needing a Tylenol or something," he said as he finished, "but this really sucks…"

"What about Graham and Otogi-kun?"

"Otogi was here first. We found him. He looked really bad." Mokuba glanced in the man's direction. "Looks really bad."

"We all do," Bakura said quietly. "But we're here…"

"For now," Amami muttered, shocking those who heard her. Yet she did not choose to add to her statement. Mokuba, unsure of what was said coughed and then offered what information he could, ending with—

"As for Graham, I saw him go down, and Otogi had covered him. That's why I thought…I guess not—my bad—anyway he jumped away all of the sudden and that's when my brother tried what you taught him." He shot Bakura a displeased look. "And here we are now."

"If he did that, I'm not surprised he's out. It takes a while to get used to the demands it places on your body," Bakura explained. "Very draining demands…"

"Speaking of draining," Mokuba said, reserving his strength by pointing with his gaze. Otogi remained very still in his position against the wall. A worrying sign. "Check on him, too, when you're done."

"Don't waste your time," Otogi wheezed, and his friends perked up at his voice. That was until he unfurled and raised his head. How he had managed to live this long with the wooden spike jammed into his chest and his face half-melted away by what had probably been a great dousing of holy water (for where else had the gift for Claire been procured?) was awe inspiring. An attempted smile was offered, but not quite managed; lips curving and dropping just as quickly when faced with his friend's horror. "Punctured, but not all the way. It's slow…and I'm…I feel, shitty?"

"Oh, Otogi-kun…" Bakura sobbed which set off Amami again. Claire pulled the girl away, trying to distract her, and giving him a chance to run to his friend. With care Bakura clung to him, knowing what his words meant and hating everything that had brought them to this moment.

"Ah, don't cry," Otogi chuckled, his voice taking on a whistling quality. "We tried. That's the best we could do."

"I should have gone with you!"

"We did what we had to," Otogi declared firmly. "And you did a better job." To reaffirm this, he half-heartedly raised his hand at the other vampire. "Glad you saw the light, Art."

Arthur seemed as stunned as everyone else. Ignoring the greeting, he said, "Why didn't you take it out?"

"Blessed by something," Otogi said, pointing to the wood. "Fuckers. It's too late, anyway. Was in bad shape before. Running on fumes."

"That's not possible!" D cried, unable to contain himself behind the emotional wall he tried to build. In time, this skill would improve. Whether or not that was a true benefit to who he would become was questionable. "If you just drank—"

"Who?" Otogi asked. "I don't see any willing batch of healthy adults hanging around, or living enemies…"

"But—"

"What's your M.O.?"

The question was a slap in the face. D looked down, clenching his hands, realizing the finger was pointing back at him. Why was he not feeding recklessly and freely like his body demanded? Because he set a standard for himself. So had Otogi.

It was sad. Yet, he felt extremely proud of the man. Honored to know him.

Otogi sighed. Resting his head against the crook of Bakura's neck, he smiled. It took great effort, but the gesture was noted by his friend.

"Don't bother offering," the man said, surprising his friend. "I see it in your eyes. Don't. You see there's no point; it wouldn't be enough. I did try with one of those assholes anyway…guess I wasn't 'old' or 'strong' enough yet to handle all this bullshit they had prepared to throw at me."

"Ryuji…" Tears flowed and fell uselessly onto Otogi's bloodied shirt. His friend sighed at hearing his given name and he offered a weak head bump to Bakura's jaw.

"I'm glad I got to see all of you again, one last time," Otogi confessed, and Bakura nodded in agreement, hugging him. "You guys…I always felt bad I survived, and everyone else didn't…and now look at us. You take care of them for me, okay?"

Bakura nodded, fresh tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Don't forget to keep fighting for what this world could be. There's so much…we have to protect it from."

"I swear."

Otogi grinned again before he flinched at a jolt of pain. "Could I ask you one more favor?" he requested, his voice wobbling. He placed his friend's hand on his chest where the wood lay pinned in his flesh. "I'm…too afraid to do it myself."

Bakura fulfilled the action; quick, with his lips pressed to the man's forehead. D watched as the man rose and his vampiric friend did not with a sense of foreboding. There was something in the man's eyes that echoed that fearful night when he had stared at the sky on that high balcony. Others must have noticed too because the very feeling of the room changed. Mokuba seemed to pull himself together a little more. Kaiba began shifting in earnest. Their strange new vampire ally took directions without question. So began the grueling process of pulling the city back together.

By the end of the night, Arthur had found the remaining two vampires that had come along with him in whatever task Amelia had set for them. One brought along a few that he had turned in the chaos, with the assertion that the act had been out of pity, while the other admonished her whole company for failing in the simplest act of following their leader's will. With Arthur's assistance, Bakura coaxed them to join his cause, which was simple enough to understand. Work together to bring peace and order back to the city with as little additional deaths as possible. Whether or not what he presented was feasible remained to be seen.

After being sent off with choice words from the young man, and the express rule not to "change" anyone further, they sped through the town to their purpose. Time was of the essence; before daylight broke, they had to salvage what should have been a bustling town amidst the chaos of the world.

While Bakura monitored the structural assessment and care for remaining allies on his end, Mai continued to quell the fears of those that had followed her through the grizzly tunnel. Many awoke to the understanding that the havoc wrought had been brought on by their own failures to depart from extremes. Loss of many kinds occupied the minds of the survivors. Anzu helped Yugi follow his mother's exhausted instructions as Kyoko rested with their sleeping child, saving many that had been injured along the way, but not all. Both sides of the city, old and new, saw a significant drop in their numbers. It had a sobering effect.

Claire and Amami dropped off into fitful sleep, although the latter had refused to consider even doing so unless Bakura had been there to help see her off into these terrifying dreams. After so much time of uncertainty between them, she had placed her full trust in the only other constant she had known well from Domino. D did not count, although she did see him as her hero—having risked his life twice that very night for her sake. Not that she had said as much, nor did the boy feel such a way.

D found being in the company of so many vampires who knew who he was and who his father was unnerving. However, he was willing to withhold judgement since they had assisted Bakura without so much of a peep of dissent, even when the man had been harsh and unforgiving. Perhaps they were used to it. The reverence they held for the boy left him wary; this was a far cry from the fear that they had been under in the city that they had left, or the hell that they had endured most of the night in this one. D did not care for their prostrations—he wanted answers.

Mostly to know if they were safe.

But answers were slow in coming. There was too much for the adults to do, so many haphazard revolts to try and stop amicably. Guerrilla efforts by those still filled with zealotry brought on ill-fated consequences, and ones that arguably could not be dealt with in any other way than total annihilation. Each time one of Amelia's people returned with the bad news, Bakura seemed to droop like a flower too long without water.

D was aware the man's health was already shaky; having been previously injured and still demanding that D sustain himself on what measured amount he could offer. This time the boy did not try to argue with or fight him; he quietly gave in and tucked himself in a corner to feed, out of sight of everyone. Anything to have that damnable need put to rest for a little while. Anything to stop the unpleasant cravings that would only cause more sorrow if he were to relent and let them overtake him. Anything to help the man feel like he was able to do something right when everything felt so wrong around them.

Mokuba rested beside his older brother, his head upon a stiffened shoulder as he slept. It was the best anesthetic that they could offer at present. Kaiba impatiently waited for the return of Mai, the one person any of them knew who could help Mokuba with a blood donation, while he acted as the other's impromptu bed. His uncharacteristic chewing on a knuckle broke the illusion of his false sense of calm. As it stood, Mokuba's bleeding had finally stopped. One of the newly turned vampires had been the nurse that worked side by side with Yugi's mother and had instructed the elder brother from afar with the process, covering her face with a strong smelling cloth to deaden all other scents. She had needed to leave at one point, her new tastes tempting her to make the same fatal mistake that other newly turned vampires had made which had perpetuated the panic that flooded the city, but by then Kaiba had understood what he needed to do and once more it was he who tended to Mokuba, rather than the other way around. Kaiba's own fatigue meant little to him; rather aside from his nerves, he seemed agitated that he had failed to protect his little brother. Everyone around the pair figured if he was snapping suggestions from his resting position, he was fine.

Graham was awake, but to all nearby, his present state was too touch and go to say he would survive his wounds with certainty. He appeared to be holding on out of pure spite due to an offhanded remark that one of their new "helpers" had uttered. Or perhaps he had something to say and the correct audience was unavailable. Whatever it was, he refused to accept this inevitable fate, clinging to this world with the proclamation that he was not going to treat it like his deathbed. No one laughed at his attempt at humor.

When Mai's party returned from the other side of the river, a new evening had fallen. Any rest that either gathering had achieved offered just enough energy to autopilot their way back to their respective homes, or what had once been their homes. They were given the chance to meet once more before night made easy travel near impossible. Their reception back was lackluster, but the feeling was mutual—they all had to begin their grieving anew. No one knew who or what to affix the blame to, and they were afraid to assign any lest the terrible pattern begin again.

Such was the very topic the impromptu council of strangers debated, some with more energy than others.

"We need to hurry and make them accept us," Arthur pressured those "in charge" on the human side. He slapped the table they had pulled into the side room to punctuate his point. "It was this hatred and misunderstanding that got us in this mess in the first place. We need to act. Get everyone to reconvene and have them accept our leadership for the time being."

"That's not going to happen," Mai replied, rubbing exhaustion from her eyes. "Plenty of the ones that followed me to the other side are planning to go back once they collect any personal items that survived the fires. Now that they've opened themselves to what wrongs they have committed to each other, there's not much left for them here. That sense of a positive community is gone."

"Doesn't that make it more imperative we work to return that communal feeling?"

"What community is left is not going to be very forgiving," Anzu added, holding her little girl who was wide awake for the disruption in her sleep schedule. "If I were you, take what foothold you get and do whatever Amelia wanted you to when the area empties. It will, eventually."

"She wanted to create another city like hers," Arthur's vampiric friend noted morosely. Her face shared many of the disappointments that they all expressed in their own ways.

"That didn't work," D said unbidden from his corner. He caught Bakura's eye to read his response, his silent comfort that the man existed corporeal before him. The boy almost felt as if he could smile; Bakura had moved to roll his eyes before checking himself, his mouth relaxing rather than moving to a frown.

"Everyone's plan was stupid," Claire chimed in, holding her spray bottle close. She glared at all the vampires and then at the duo that rested beside the reclined older man. Hatred bubbled in her eyes; it was clear where she placed the blame.

"…Well," Arthur said, clearing his throat. While he did not appreciate the way the two put forth their opinions, they were children, and it was clear he felt compelled not to argue being that he did not outright disagree with them. "We did have one other task. We need to connect this outpost to Amelia's to his homeland."

"You're kidding." This information came as a surprise even to Bakura. That was a risk they could not afford to take. They were looking for a safe place, not to jump straight into the viper's pit.

"It was the next step in her plan," Arthur said, shrugging.

"But how?"

"The plane."

"But we need the plane!" Bakura exclaimed in a panic. "We have to—we can't go with you there!"

"We could drop you off or prepare other transportation."

"That's beside the point! This isn't the damned novel, and he's not getting a foothold here. We aren't just going to hand over everyone here to him! Don't you remember what I told you?"

"I'm aware, but these were our orders. If we don't follow through, she might send others even less inclined to be peaceful with the remaining populace."

"This is bullshit."

"There are things we all are unaware of, and maybe we are all unaware of his deeper plans. After all, Amelia was inspired by his interest in humans. This positivity for humankind must come from somewhere. Please…trust us."

"But can we really trust you?" Mai questioned. She had seen more than just Bakura react negatively to this new wrench in their plans. D's face had paled even further than it already was, and even Kaiba had been visibly shaken.

"You do now, right?"

"Now? I'm not so sure."

"I'm going to stick my neck out for you here," Arthur retorted to her accusation. "For the sake of these children, and for a friend who obviously would have done the same for all of you. His last moments more than proved that. Give me the benefit of the doubt!"

"Who's going to fly you?" Simon asked suddenly. "I'm sure the hell not."

"I can't," Graham replied wistfully from his makeshift bed of discarded jackets. He turned a melancholic eye to Bakura and Mai. "Sorry, you guys get to have the fun this time."

"You just focus on getting better," Bakura said.

"Oh, I'm not doing any moving any time soon, so I'm about forced to. Whatever you all decide, be safe."

"We will."

"Wait, wait, wait. You can't be seriously okay with this?!" Simon yelled, pivoting to face the others. "Hasn't enough happened? What good has come of this?!"

"I'm not 'okay' with any of it," Bakura explained. His eyes flicked to his exhausted people, to the energized vampires, and considered their position in a new light. "But choices are beginning to look slim."

"They attacked this place!"

"And like I warned you, some of this community attacked us without even knowing where the danger lay."

"They were afraid!"

"You realize the ones who attacked our friends here were human, right?"

"That's different, they were in a panic—and anyway this never would have happened if any of those fuckers hadn't been around to mess things up in the first place. There are nice people in this town, and you'd just hand them over to—"

"I'm not handing anyone over. There are plenty of choices that individuals can make. Like not falling for killing someone just because they look suspicious."

"People wouldn't have freaked out if there were no vampires. Graham's dying because of them! That's where I place the blame!"

"I'm not dying," Graham interjected weakly, before Zoe placed a palm on his head signaling for him to refrain from talking. Her sorrowful expression said otherwise.

Bakura sighed through his nose. While he understood where Simon was coming from, his past experiences led him to a different conclusion. He also could not deny to himself that his own opinions were colored by caring for the young boy huddled in his own corner, the one trying desperately to appear invisible during this argument. If he were going to live anything remotely like a normal life…Bakura could not see the world in black and white. He would forever have to walk the tightrope where one slip might destroy all he loved. "That's not a fair statement. These people were unaware of the situation and unaware of what the truth was."

"People," Simon spat. "You call them people…and say they 'didn't know'. So that excuses them? They killed—"

"Don't go rattling off the names, I already know them," the young man glowered. "I promised my friend to do better so things like this don't happen again. I didn't say it lightly, and I'm not happy with the situation as it stands. But if there are things that I have to do to ensure we can all find some way of working together, I'll do it. There are worse things out there, and we need allies who don't care who, or what, we are."

"I'm not working with them!"

"Then you best not work with the humans living here, either," Bakura sniffed. "They don't have a great track record."

"They're people. Misguided people who don't have to scatter because of all of this!"

"And the vampires here were simply misinformed and are willing to help us now. Didn't you tell me once about not letting past actions define your opinions of others? Give people a chance?"

"This is different. I don't care who hears it. I don't trust them," Simon wheeled around, trying to gather support from the rest of the human-based group. "We could do something here! Build something here! There's no reason to follow those…things…into a death-trap! We can create a better place right here, and they can just have the damned plane."

The silence that followed his offer spoke of a warning. If the vampires were to return as promised, they would be met with heavy opposition. The air bristled with the offended party's ire.

"I already told you I'm not staying," Bakura said stubbornly. "And you have been more than aware of our dealings with the paranormal and supernatural. If anything, I recall you saying you'd stand by us no matter how rough it got."

"Well…" Simon countered, straightening himself to the point of posturing, "I'm not going."

There. The words were finally out, and they stung far less than Bakura would have assumed. It was almost a relief to be through with such disconnect. Yet, that was not to say it did not leave a deep cut. Bakura looked to the floor and committed all he could recall to the nostalgic "better days". Then he stared through the dirtied lenses into the pained expression that pleaded he say something else. But he refused.

"Then you have a good life."

In the dawning hours of the day, when the vampires tucked away into their hiding, and the humans drifted in and out of fitful sleep, Bakura found himself once more where he and Wanatabe had stood for their reconciliation. He sighed, fatigue making him sensitive to everything around him. The pilling of the fabric in his pockets, the scent of distant snowfall in the air. Hopefully, the storm turned snowstorm would refrain from coming back their way; too many people needed time to find new lodging, and those with Bakura needed time to prepare. While everyone agreed that a choice was involved, the answer seemed a foregone conclusion.

With the chilling breeze tickling the hairs at the crook of his neck, he picked up yet another sensation. He heard Amami approach him before he saw her. She wandered up beside the man, her disposition reminding him of how D had been on their isolative lifeboat. Her face was blank, but she held his hand reflexively and huddled close. They stood in quiet contemplation for some time.

Bakura wondered briefly where the boy was. It was unlike D to be this reserved when it came to having a free moment to talk to one another. Maybe he had seen the girl coming this way, or maybe for once he was actually asleep. Good news if that were the case. He needed it. Bakura broke out of his thoughts when Amami asked, her voice small, cracking,

"It's not fair. Why is he gone?"

The young man bit his lip, weighing his answers and decided to refrain from sugarcoating. It would have been what he would have wanted in this situation. A similar question echoed in his mind, and another one he had asked himself thousands of times. One that she probably asked herself now: Why not me?

"The world can be cruel like that. Sometimes the choices we are given can have terrible effects on the ones we care about. Things," he looked to his empty hand. The hand that had ended another's pain. "Things can go so wrong."

"But why did he do it?"

That answer took little effort. "Your father wanted to protect you so that you could live."

"But why'd he choose to do that first? Why didn't he run with us? Why did he stay behind? As soon as he told me to leave without him, I knew he was going to die. He never told me to do that before…he always wanted me to stay close."

"He…" Bakura hesitated, rubbing his face in a frustration not directed at her but rather himself. He felt ill-equipped to have this conversation. However, he had no time to argue what right he had in having it. "He wanted you to make it. There probably wasn't enough time for anything else. He wanted you to have a chance to be happy. To live your life. While there are those terrible choices with awful results, there are also plenty of good moments." He had to pause; the conversation was ringing familiar. Had he said this to someone before? Thought it?

He forced himself to clear his mind of questions he did not need. "What would he tell you, if he were here now?" he asked instead.

She shrugged. "I don't know. Get away from here? It was one of the last things he said: Run."

"You said that wasn't what he normally said. What do you think he would want for you? If you could talk to him, and he acted 'normal', what would he say?"

She took time in responding, trying to contain her tears. "That I have to think about now, and not all of the bad things that happened. We can't change it, so we have to stick together…so I guess he'd say: go where you're happy? You have friends, so stay by them?"

Bakura nodded. "That's a good start. You sound like you're questioning yourself, but we all start somewhere."

Amami started to sob. "When does it stop hurting? I've lost everyone! My family is dead!"

Bakura shook his head. "I…don't know. No one ever told me the answer to that, either."

She looked up at him, her wails silenced by confusion. "What?"

"If you love someone, it can hurt for a long time when you lose them," Bakura began, resuming the gnawing on his lip as he tried to scrounge up an understanding of how to help the poor girl. "What can help is focusing on all of the good that they did for you. All the happy times that are no one else's but yours and theirs. While they might not be here anymore, you still remember those times. They can save you."

He had not expected his voice to break there, but it did. Amami continued to watch him, an almost fascinated expression blooming on her face from what he had to say. Seeing this, Bakura pushed through to add more insight while he could. "You could write to him, a letter only for him; tell him about the things you did that day, about all the good you do and try to put forth into the world—or enjoy from the world—in his honor. In your honor. He loved you, and you love him. Nothing will ever change that bond. Take what gifts he gave you and run with them. That would make him happy, I bet."

Amami nodded, drying her eyes. While it was imperfect, a sort of peace shone in the way she smiled at him. "You're right. He was like that. He wanted what was best for me, and never wanted me to be sad…but it's okay that I am?" she added nervously.

"Of course. Take the time you need."

Her smile brightened. "Even though you guys didn't get along for a while, and he didn't trust you for a long time…he liked you. I'm glad you were his friend."

"As am I."

"Will you take care of me?"

It was Bakura's turn to smile. "I promise. I will be there for you."

"D's right about you," she said softly, hugging him quickly before running off. Hopefully, she would rest easier now. They were still on shaky ground until they reached their destination. Not that he intended on troubling her with that news.

Bakura watched her go and when she had gone and was out of earshot he fell to his knees and sobbed in earnest. All the words that he had said to the girl struck a chord deep inside of him; something that tugged as far as memories not truly his own. He wept for a millennium of sadness, for his sister, for his mother, for his own father. He curled into a ball as he cried for all the friends he had lost along the way, until the tears stopped flowing. Then he stood, let the rising sun warm his face and slowly walked to where the departing plane would be parked for its final preparations. He wiped at his nose in an all too familiar fashion, feeling lighter than he had in years.