Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or Vampire Hunter D.
Interestingly enough, it's been more of a struggle to find time to edit what I have than it was to actually write it. And to anyone still reading, always feel free to provide some feedback.
Anyway, Enjoy!
Chapter Sixty-One: Snow
"So…uh…did anyone else just see that flying rabbit?"
The three travelers paused as they approached the snow-covered roundabout, their breath like low-hanging clouds in the gray light that washed over the land. The tallest of the bunch took the moment to cross his arms tighter, shivering uncontrollably against the frigid temperature. Atop his head rested a dirtied beanie (it had fallen into an icy mud puddle a day ago), and his face was covered by a thick woolen scarf. The person beside him huddled closer at the mention of yet another oddity, strands of dark hair tickling splotchy cheeks from their own insulating cap.
"I'm more concerned about freezing right now," Bakura said unperturbed and apart from the nervous pair, pulling out their map from his bag. He gave his stiff gloved fingers a shake and stared hard at the paper before him. His eyebrows furrowed trying to discern what options they had that were not blurred by a purposeful ink spot granted by the mapmaker. A spot that had eaten up just enough of the page to make most viable routes impossible to distinguish. The man had half a mind just to eat the damned thing for all the good it was doing them now.
"Either they have a lot more faith in you than what's sensible, or they wanted you dead…" He could hear the echo of Albert's statement when they had finally unrolled their map beat like an obnoxious lyric in his mind, and he wondered for a second if he had mistaken Kaiba's actions as anything more than self-preservation. Aside from the clear line that had taken them days away from their previous location, there was not a sign as to where and how they would be meeting up with anyone if everyone's general trajectory had been south. They had only been told to hurry west. Still, instead of foregoing this madness, Bakura had placed his trust once more in everyone else, feeling that if this were what they had all deemed necessary, that he would uphold his end of the bargain—especially if it kept the children out of harm's way. At least Jounochi had been appalled by their position, finding it worse than he had been able to imagine.
"This was not the idea. Not my idea!" he had roared defiantly before cursing up a storm and tromping on ahead, his offense to having played his friend into such a dirty hand plastered on his face. Bakura smiled at the memory and folded the useless bit of paper up. They needed to find a place to shelter themselves from the incoming storm. They were hardly functioning as it was.
And now, apparently, there were flying rabbits scaring the life out of everyone.
"Let's try that way," he said, pointing to one of the splits in the road. Something within him told him it was the best choice out of the other options. He decided that the feeling sufficed as a directive. At least it gave them something to do—and it was not like he had anything else to go on. "Unless you two want to stick around and debate if it was a rabbit or a hare that just flew past us until we are buried in the snow."
"I'm coming," Jounochi grouched, hiking his legs a little higher each time his foot sunk into the soft powder.
"—Personally find his concern valid," Albert said. He slipped, caught himself on a barrier, then propelled up to them in his attempt not to be left behind. Not that they would have.
"Let's just be glad it isn't craving our blood," Bakura replied with an uncharacteristic smirk.
"You're a real comedian."
The path they followed gently wound its way around a snow-covered hill supported by a concrete wall. Not quite hugging the gray mass, the trio tried to bypass the gale that was whipping up by hurrying along the barrier. To their dissatisfaction, the idea proved to be less than optimal. Wind still sunk into the "safe" area, lashing even the shortest hairs on their head around. Even their backpacks acted against them by creating counterintuitive burdens that slowed their movement against the pressing gusts, nearly bowling all of them over in a brief moment where Jounochi stumbled backwards. A mound of snow resting on the crest of this building landscape, bearing more weight than it could carry, flopped from its former ledge and splat across the ground just in front of them. The amount could have knocked them out cold. They swung wide from the wall after that.
It was desperation that finally had them leave their failing trail, and down into a smaller, partially overgrown path among the outcropping of trees that proved little better as protection. Still, trees meant they could rig something up if they got deep enough into the woods and the middling trunks could provide them with something more than being stranded in blinding white snowfall.
While they had not walked long upon this new unknown path—any helpful signs had either been destroyed or buried under the very ready winter—their patience for a prolonged journey was near up and all had been half-tempted to turn around and sit out the inbound storm under a snuggly fitted tent. That was until they saw a destroyed structure peeking out through the snow a few feet ahead of them. What had caused its destruction was anyone's guess, but the remnants pointed out a strange slope that led deeper into the woodlands.
"Are those…stairs?" Albert asked.
"I think so," Jounochi said, cocking his head to the side. He then broke off from the pair and toed his way around the decline. Here and there his foot sank into the snow, but only once did he fall far enough that he had to lash his hand out in surprise. He managed to find the railing of what was an unkempt stairway before being buried up to the chest in the unstable pile. With a short laugh that soothed the anxious ones watching him, he tromped his way through the rest of it, creating a path to the bottom for the others to follow.
"Believe it or not, it's warmer down here!" he cried up at them. He pointed to his right, their left. "And the ground is flat, we could make a camp against that spot right there!"
Letting loose a hopeful hoot of laughter, Bakura and Albert rushed down the steps in as safe a fashion as possible along the route their friend had taken. The sky hung low, bloated with the beginnings of snow, but for that moment they rejoiced in a spot less intent on freezing them to death. A small thing, but they had little else to celebrate at the moment.
In their revelry, they almost missed the cave.
Bakura twirled around with a shout of glee to their better than nothing find, and nearly slipped on the slush that had warmed under their frantic little dance. As he staggered, his eyes caught sight of a dark entrance to their left, burrowed just to the side of the stairway and surrounded by large mounds of snow. If he had not been angled in such a way, the man was sure he would have missed it completely with how naturally hidden it was. He straightened then—his focus leaving the other two that still danced in their relief—and took slow steps toward the opening.
Most of the snowpack was just that, but just at the rim of where the ground dropped to meet doorway, it looked like a path had been partially cleared—only to be abandoned. Bakura reached out a hand and touched the freshly scraped ground, and the roughness of the stairs beneath the remaining slurry. With care taken with each footfall, he crept onward, his arms lifted at his sides to aid in his balance. There was something like a track where the ground leveled out for a second, but it was smeared to indistinction. Bakura's finger traced the hurried mark, his hands then sliding up the metal bars of the unobstructed entryway. The scent of damp sediment filled his nostrils, and—he thought—he could catch something more in the air. Just what, he was not sure.
He poked his head in further, squinting into the darkness and saw a route downward into what several years before probably had served as a famous tourist attraction. He saw the continuation of a stairway, the stalactites and stalagmites that decorated the roof and sloping floors, and felt the chill wind press upon his back, while the cold air within remained just that. Cold.
But not freezing.
"Hello?" He called into the cave, and heard the chittering sound of bats, holed up in comfort deep within the caverns of the place. He tried again in his own language, and then in a terrible attempt of Romanian. No one responded. Yet…there were no tracks out of the cave. He wondered if there were bears. If there was, why would they bother to have woken up from their hibernation to clear up the entrance?
"Bakura?" he heard Jounochi call, and he turned his attention away, his hand still resting against the faded green paint of the remaining gate built into the walls of the place. While further exploration would be necessary to ensure whatever lived within meant them no harm, the more pressing matter was how dark the sky had become, and how night still had hours before it came.
Bakura took in a breath and smelled the same scent once more as he did. Indescribable, but clear: someone or something else lived within. Fingers brushed the place where his blade lay hidden in a search for comfort, and he released his immediate concerns in a whoosh through his nose.
"Down here! No. Jounochi. Turn around."
The voice that echoed around him rang incredulous. "Is…is that a cave?"
"No, it's an arcade. Yes, it's a cave! Get Albert and watch your step, it's slippery coming down."
During their descent Bakura shared what he had assessed, and they all agreed with his conclusion. Whether or not there was someone or something down there, certainly there was enough room for them all to rest within until the storm passed. The newest occupants would be on their way immediately after.
"Just so long as it isn't a vampire," Jounochi grumbled.
"Maybe there's a hoard of flying rabbits down here?"
"For the love of God, stop it," Albert said with a snort as Jounochi tapped Bakura on the back of the head for his retort. "I want to like it here for now. Don't chase me back out there."
"Why wings throw you two off, I just can't understand," Bakura tittered, rubbing the back of his head as they held onto the railing that led them further into the cave.
"It's not the wings…it's just…they should hop."
"And not be people."
"You're doing this on purpose!"
Laughter bounced off the walls at that.
It did not take long for them to have need of a flashlight, the darkness enclosing them as the first spattering of snow began just outside. They all shivered as they reached the first gallery, unable to shake the cold even in the enclosed area. The walkway was slick with disuse and failed to inspire the small group to stop and rest. Pressing on, they noticed that the cave system seemed to expand, and with it, the odor of at least one species that lived there. Even as cold and on edge as they were, they marveled at the natural features, an impromptu tour on their quest for survivability.
Yet it was the next room that had them stop, their mouths slack jawed in awe.
While clearly modified by human hands for accessibility, the great towering monuments of stone decorated by minute drippings held them there in a space where the slightest echo was amplified. Even their breathing seemed somewhat richer in the space they occupied then. It was in that space that Bakura heard the slightest shift bounce down at them from some place above. His eyes traveled up a set of stairs to a pit of darkness and he cocked his flashlight up at it.
At first, all he could see were the steps leading up to some smaller area, but the more he focused on it, the more he realized that the faint smell that he had noticed earlier came from that way. He felt Jounochi and Albert follow his gaze but neither said anything. Figuring on a now or never approach, Bakura moved away from them, and to the base of the stairs.
"Hello?" he called up, putting an arm up behind him to signal for the others to stay put. He repeated the greeting once more in all the languages he knew. "I'm sorry, we're aware that this is very rude, but may we stay here for the night? Or just until the snow stops?"
The area above them remained still. Bakura pursed his lips, not wishing for a surprise attack in the middle of the night. "Please…I…I know you probably can't understand but," he rattled of all of the new words he felt comfortable using in Romanian, "I don't know any more than that. None of us do. We won't hurt you. We are just cold."
Still nothing. Bakura sighed and tapped the flashlight against his leg. "This isn't working."
"To be fair, we might have passed any place that would understand us," Jounochi said. "It was bound to happen, now that I think about it."
"I know…" Bakura brushed a few strands of hair from his face. He wanted insurance that they would not be harmed if they stayed there, however. Tired did not come close to expressing his aversion to being seen as dangerous and vice versa. An unwelcome biting sting began at the corners of his eyes, a response to an accumulation of the frustration that he had been trying to fight back mixed with the simple fact that he missed his children terribly. "Sort of hoped it wouldn't happen in a position like this."
"What position would be better?" Albert asked. "Hey…there's a chance no one is here, right?"
"No," Bakura replied, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. "Someone is definitely here." He turned back to the stairway. Nothing moved, but time in a world such as this made him sensitive to things he would never have noticed before. That odor was the smell of a person in hiding, present, not past. He had heard something too; he was sure of it. And…even for being unable to see in the dark, he could have sworn he saw something shift when he had directed the light up there. Bakura pointed up to where he was positive someone was staring down at them in whatever hiding space they had found, and said in Romanian, "Not nice."
"Well, they're probably not much of a danger to us if they're too scared to face us," the dark-haired man shrugged. "But damn do I have to use the toilet."
Both Bakura and Jounochi's attention swung to him. "Really?"
"It's a natural thing!" Albert protested. "Anyway, do you see any place that'd be…best? I am not going back outside."
"That bad?" Jounochi could not help but ask.
"Shut up!" Albert snapped, beginning to fuss with his pants. "And if they aren't going to come down, maybe I should just give them our own welcome or something if they're just going to be peeping."
"Gross, dude," Jounochi grimaced at the thought.
"You don't mean that," Bakura said.
"Do you see a place I can go in peace, then?!"
At that, they all heard steps from behind them. The trio spun around to watch what looked like an older middle-aged woman make their way down the stairs. She was in attire they had never seen before, an elaborate dressing of thick fabrics, and unlike them, she looked perfectly warm. For a moment, she paused, watching Albert crossing his leg before him slightly to hold control of himself. With her face unmoving, she bypassed the other two who stood in shock at her blasé nature and started to drag him along. When the others began to move in protest, she stopped, pointedly jabbed a finger in Bakura's face and said what he thought were the words "nonsense" "bad" and "accent", before turning back to lead Albert off.
Apparently, there was a makeshift toilet. In addition, they found out her name was Marta, and with a lot of effort on everyone's part they came to understand she spoke both Romanian and Bulgarian, although the latter seemed to be her first language and something no one understood in the slightest. Though, she did let them stay.
And so, another long winter of learning began.
In a decrepit building dotted with ramshackle remains of a bygone era, D leaned against the wall with his arms hanging over his knees, observing his shivering sleeping comrades while steppe winds battered the protective structure outside. Seeing their huddled forms sparked empathy from the boy, who considered himself a bit of a heat sink and useless for doing much else for them.
He could smell snow on the warpath, and the creaking of the rafters above sparked vigilance. Twice now, he thought he had seen something on the wind in pursuit. What it had been, he could not tell; he just hoped it was not related to the collective of vampires he had spotted as they had been trying to make their way back. An almost marching collective that had contained an awfully familiar face—D had glared hard at him enough before the adults had made their flight plan a permanent option—heading toward the most direct path back, up to where the strange dug up earth began. It had been sheer luck that none of those on the move had bothered to turn their faces towards the terribly hidden figures who had barely managed to tug their cumbersome load behind a telephone pole. Their position had been obvious; there were not many places to hide in such a sparse stretch of flatland, and if they had not been downwind, it might have been over for them at that very moment.
A small sigh passed his lips. Part of him wanted to keep on, to have whatever was following them lose sight just enough so they could continue their backtrack, but even with his keen sense of navigation, he did not feel this would be possible if the snow were to rage full force upon them. Already nothing looked familiar—they had been chased off their trail.
That did not even cover the fact that one of theirs was barely hanging on.
The howling sound of the wind amplified to what sounded like a shriek to D, and he hesitated, covering his ears with his hands, clenching them into tight fists in a fight to maintain composure. The stress of being "in charge" was now getting to him (for what could the injured man decide?) and nights and days were sleepless for the boy. No one else could hold vigil like he could, and when the others were awake, they needed to move. There was nothing to sustain them in the area they had stumbled upon.
Unfortunately, moving had been impossible that day. Dragging Theo in his sleep had been fine before because the pain had not taken root and grown—or he had been in such a deep slumber he felt nothing. Now, any movement was agony for the man. It woke him, drained any semblance of will, and they had nothing to offer to him for relief. All they could do was halt their moving forward and hope that he was healing. So far, nothing looked infected…yet.
D wanted to cry. Putting on a brave face was becoming a challenge, even when concentrating on how Claire and Theo needed someone to lean onto. His hand remained silent, aware that any prodding might set him over the edge rather than distract him. Every emotion boiled within him, fiercer than ever. He wanted to scream as loud as the gusts outside…to sob like the being…
Sob?
The boy launched himself to his feet and ran soundlessly to a reinforced window. Pulling aside a bit of pinned fabric that kept the freezing air from entering through a crack of broken glass and shoddy lineup of wood, he squinted through the grey light that washed the earth. The hint of a mound not previously on the horizon caught his eye. The sobbing continued. And so did the shrieking.
D turned his attention back to his sleeping companions, to the window, and pinned the fabric back into place. Within seconds he was at their collective pile of personal effects grabbing his sword. They would not notice him missing—unless he died. Yet, there was someone out there who might die if he did nothing.
It was none of his business, but something within him cried that it might be. Some other internal measurement noted it was the right thing to do. Both thoughts beat down the pragmatism of staying put. Taking a leaf out of Bakura's book, he followed this call of intuition and made a swift exit before the cold air could freeze the inside any more than it had.
Running to the mound took hardly any time at all. Or, rather, to the person hunched over, with their face pressed to the dried grass. From beneath them, a wail mixed with the whipping wind. A wail, now that D was presented with the sight, he recognized.
"Amami-chan?" D asked, crouching by her huddled side. She did not respond, but the crying beneath her lowered for a second.
"D?" A small voice thick with tears inquired from below.
'Etsu-chan!' his mind reeled. He could have sworn their footprints had followed with the others. Had he misread them? Was he that poorly trained? He cursed himself for his perceived ineptitude and wondered how he had not caught onto them tailing their slow-moving troupe.
"It's okay," he said aloud, over the screeching wind. "I'm here."
As if his words broke a kind of spell, Amami's head jolted up, and her stare pierced him with wide, dark eyes. "Help!" she hissed, and the note of her tone raised in pitch at the end. "Something is after us! It's coming! Get us out of here!"
Not needing to be told twice, D pulled her up to her feet and swung her princess-style into his arms. He would have rather had an arm ready to fight, but he did not want to knock Etsu around if he held Amami in a fireman's carry. He dashed toward their encampment, forcing his attention forward. That same nagging intuition sent alarms ringing that whatever was in pursuit was speeding up, but how close or far would mean nothing if it caught sight of them.
"How long?" He uttered into Amami's ear.
"Since we got split up," she said. The girl clutched at his coat with one hand. "I thought I was following Moto-san…but…but…"
"Amami-chan, please. Later."
"I know," she whispered, and he could smell the salt of her tears. "Etsu-chan barely ever stops crying, but I thought I was following the sounds of their footsteps. Your 'father'," she shivered in his arms as she said this familial phrase, "had been stuck by whatever had happened. I didn't want to risk getting caught by him, or by the others there, so I ran after the sounds I heard."
"Amami!"
"When I got to a place that I could look around, no one was there. I felt so bad leaving you behind that I snuck us back—where else was I going to go?— but when I found the place again, no one was there. The wind was just really noisy…and it almost seemed like someone was trying to talk to me. I got scared, so I ran. The more I ran, the more whatever it was followed me. I'm scared! What's worse is I made a terrible mistake! It's my fault Etsu-chan isn't with her father!"
The sound of incorporeal hooves trotted towards them from a distance. The wind rushed past them faster now, switching direction. The heavy scent of encroaching snowfall was impossible to ignore. He could hear the pair's stomach rumble and figured that they had probably had no chance to eat, or sleep. It was no wonder the crying pair were so emotional.
"Not your fault," D cut in. "Just stay calm!"
"How! It's been chasing us! And it sounds like it's getting faster, like it was just toying with us before! Help D-kun! Help! Can't you run faster?!"
The hoof beats were indeed closing in, but for all D could see when he finally tossed his head back to risk a glance, there was nothing new to his vision for miles. He bit back every question he had and skid to a halt. With a smooth sweep, he set the two down and pushed Amami back to where the others were stationed. She stumbled and turned, and the boy caught a better look at just how disheveled she was. Her pants ripped and bloodied at the knees. Her free hair a tangled mess. Dirt coated both her and Etsu, who looked the better off of the pair. Still, the little girl wept tearlessly, and was of no help to either of them.
"Run that way," D commanded, "There's a building we're hiding out in. It's obvious. As soon as you see structures, call out for Claire. I'm sure she'll wake up to help."
"Come with us!" Amami cried, taking a step toward him.
D shook his head. "You need time. I don't. Go."
Reading the cold look in his eyes and how he shifted his stance to something guarded, Amami nodded and took the younger child with her without another word. D watched their retreat for a beat before turning his head to face the harsh windstorm. The fingers of his right hand touched the handle of his sword, while he held his left partially raised at his side. It was a miracle that the hat upon his head did not fly off, although it pressed against his temples in a rhythm as jumpy as his heart felt.
"Get ready. I need help," he murmured, unknowing which being he was warning or wishing for aid from.
"Beginning to think being stuck with you is a death sentence," his hand pipped up. The boy pursed his lips but said nothing.
In the flying debris of dead plant matter and dust, D thought he could see a form beginning to appear. A pair of horses dragging a wagon behind it, the rider cloaked in an airy robe that covered their face. All of this was transparent, as if the wind were taking on a form itself. Squinting, he could swear he saw streams of air aiding in this formation before blowing off and dashing against the exposed parts of his skin. He took a second to pull up his scarf further before getting back into position. The air around him pulsed with his killing intent.
This seemed to give the rider pause. Their horses' gait slowed, and so did the wind. This being cautiously rode up to him, and instead of trying to bypass the invisible line of his defense, they stopped their beasts and cocked their cloaked head at him. He waited, breathless, for them to act. As he waited, he wondered…
Could he even connect a hit?
"What are you doing you strange thing?" its voice swirled much like its visage, fading in and out of existence. "Off with you now. We've no pact…but my quarrel isn't with you."
"You do if it's with her," D said in careless monotone, for all his internal turmoil.
"You know the one who walks with those who damage all they touch?"
D uttered not a word. He hoped it read otherwise, but he was baffled by what this creature said.
The temperature around him sank, and a scowl formed from beneath the false cloth. "So, you protect those who ruin returning beauty?"
"The only one's destroying anything are the vampires doing who knows what by making pits that give meteors a run for their money."
"Them?" it questioned, pointing in a general direction from where they had run from. "There's a pact with them. Their revisions will give me more room to grow and places to roam. Why should I care about their thoughtful planning?"
"They could do more damage than the one you're chasing down."
"That THING is WASTEFUL!"
"She's just a kid," he snapped back coldly. 'And hopefully safe within the building soon,' he thought.
"Those she followed are not!"
"She's not following them anymore," he reasoned, guessing at the being's ire. He wondered just how long this entity had been tailing Yugi's group—and if it had been before or after the vampire's surprise attack.
"Because I cornered her."
Failed attempt, then. Still, the boy pressed on, eager to answer the newest set of questions that cropped up within him. "Or for many other reasons. Be fair. You were toying with her. Regardless, she's with me now. If you've a pact with the vampires, then it must have originated from…him."
"Him?"
D took in a breath and uttered the man's name. The wind entity leaned back in their seat and drew their wind robe away from their face. A lovely maiden stared down at him, scrutinizing him once more.
"You seem familiar with him."
"I should be. He is my own father, after all."
"Why are you not with him, then?"
D shifted his weight and felt his foot dig deeper into the ground, pausing just as it leveled and cupped the lowest layer of his sole. A great push-off point. "He destroys more than you think, you know. I intend to fix that one day, but for that, I must leave his side. We are also leaving your lands—as soon as we can. We want no trouble with you or your kind."
"You may not want trouble, but they earned this. They must pay for their desecration. She is the one I see. Therefore, she will be the first to atone."
"What did they do?"
"I will not waste time explaining!" The thing snapped with rage. "Stand aside, Child of the Vampire King, or mark yourself mine enemy! If you've left his agreement, your Father certainly would understand."
D offered a minute shrug. "I'm your enemy, then."
He had not expected it to move so suddenly, but thanks to riling up his reflexes with each small move and reposition, he launched himself just to the side of it and struck out with his blade. It pierced the shade, and while it offered resistance, the metal cut through the beautiful creature with no more thought than slicing empty air. Still, the audacity held the being's attention, and it lunged once more.
With recent failings guiding his new movements, D pirouetted away, taking a second to hover low to the ground before leaping to the side. A game of cat and mouse, or maybe something more antagonistic, where each opening left a jab that did little but enrage the creature. Names of otherworldly creatures banged against his mind as he hopped, slashed, backpedaled, and dashed out of the things grasp and further from their safe zone.
More time was needed to sus out the best way to handle this being, and for every jump and pivot the thing attacking was getting faster. In an instant of desperation, he raised his left hand to evoke the same strange thing he had done that night where the room had been torn asunder and the boy felt the proverbial sharpness in his whole arm, as if he had torn a muscle. Although, that so-called tear felt deeper, and more permanent than a brief injury his body could heal with time. The symbiont within his flesh writhed uncharacteristically, as if it too had been plagued with the pain. A new and unpleasant feature.
D dropped his hand to his side as he vaulted once more and tried to ignore the stinging ache. 'Good to know,' he thought to himself, 'it takes time to recharge…whatever that gift was.' He dodged and felt the breeze of an attack. The next one might hit him.
Folding upon himself he summersaulted backwards, and spring boarded from an improvised handstand. His blade nearly cut him for his efforts, but he managed to distance himself from his aggressor once more. With a few more years, D thought, he would be able to lay out such a move with little thought. That was if he managed to make it those few more years. He did not discredit his hand for marking him as danger prone. It was just rude of him to say, was all.
Another swipe from his steel passed through the wind being and finally he felt it reach him, snatching him in its incorporeal clutches. D was tossed carelessly into the air, and landed hard on his feet, barely able to right himself in time by the swirling gale it had put him through. In a heartbeat, he plucked the hat that had fallen from his head off the ground and jumped back from a new assault. He could barely hide his irritation.
Popping his treasured gift back atop his head, he planned to launch himself forward the next time the being left an opening and see if attacking through it with his person would do anything. The two danced around one another, so focused on their opponent, that neither immediately noticed a change in their vicinity. D only realized the new addition when he heard the huff of breath and the footfalls coming from where he had directed Amami and Etsu to go; and it was by scent and not sight that he marked the newcomer for who they were. Unaware of what was being planned, he did all he could to remain the bait by drawing more of the creature's wrath.
A step left. It missed. A hop back and to the left. It lunged with arms wide, and he pressed forward. His move first appeared successful, with his blade and his arms sunk deep into the transparent torso, but then he found he could not pull his arms out. The creature smiled and swung at him with a backhanded motion. The pressure of the wind vibrated in his head and he was flung from the thing high into the air, crashing back down to the earth and skidding along it in a heap. Nearly choked by his tightened scarf and with his once more freed hair wheeling in the wind, he was an unkempt display of overconfidence by the end of his slide. He allowed himself a gasp of pain before forcing himself to his knee. His head sang out in a way he was unused to. The world seemed doubled, and the boy felt a nausea he could not remember ever feeling. Somehow, to him, it was worse than being stabbed. At least he kept his senses then.
As it was, he fell back more than dodged its next wide swing. He raised his sword and stabbed into it listlessly, his breathing labored, and his mind set to reflexive gestures. It walked onto the blade, having his hand be engulfed once more by its body, and raised its arm to strike again—
—and was promptly slammed in the back of the head by something the boy could not define in his haggard state.
"Fuck OFF!" He heard Claire roar as it wailed and shrieked at the attack. Its face became featured by dark specs, and as it clawed at what befouled it, its hands became clearer, and it tore away from D, leaving something liquid on his hand. Unthinkingly, he raised it to his mouth and tested it. The results were unclear, but as he ran it over his tongue and felt a strange giddiness by doing so, he thought it could have been its blood. It was finally injured?!
He tried to swing himself to see it flail away upon its invisible mount but jolting himself like that caused him to fall upon his forearms and fight against the heaving his stomach was so adamant he had to perform. D did catch sight of an upended box with a medallion of sorts pinned between the open square of wood and the dusty earth. Its lid was not far behind it, with an engraved phrase that left him figuratively scratching his head:
"Grass of the Winds."
A Vantoase? The boy raised a hand to his forehead, trying to still the discomforting sway. Tales turned true much like his kind, D noted, but he could have sworn that they were considered "good". Or was that just a variant? Then again, tromp around on anyone's home, or deface someone's property, and anyone in their right mind would get angry.
"How did you know to use it?" D asked Claire as she helped him to his feet. She leaned down for an instant, causing him to almost lose his fragile footing. He squeezed his eyes shut to compose himself and felt the internal rush of his body trying to solve the puzzle of his injuries. She righted herself around the time his initial nausea was subsiding, and the boy felt it's obnoxious return.
"What? The box?"
The boy tried to nod but faltered in half an action. His head swam uncomfortably, and he realized the last thing he needed to do was to shake it like an overeager child with a snow globe. With a sigh, he spoke. "Yes, the box."
"You mean that's what did it? What got the thingy to run away?"
"Yes."
"Oh, neat!" she exclaimed, eyes glimmering and her tone quite pleased with herself. "It just looked important, y'know, hidden away in that drawer where I found it—when you were complaining I should stop being nosy about dead people's things and get some sleep. Anyway…it could have been for cooking for all I knew, I couldn't read it…"
"Dammit, Claire," the boy snorted, and rested his head on her shoulder as she guided him along.
"Oooh, language…but aside from that, are you okay?"
"My hat?"
"Your hat? You're worried about your hat and not your head? Where are your priorities?" The girl rolled her eyes and pushed the item in question over his face. "There. That's why I stooped down, 'cuz I thought you'd want it, but wow. What a call."
"How are Amami-chan and Etsu-chan?" D asked, readjusting it back onto his head. He dusted off his face as the wind turned in the other direction.
"Well, I wouldn't say great, but they're alive," Claire joked, and then let her face drop into a sour frown. "Let's be honest with each other, 'D-kun', our position is getting worse by the day, and I know that you want to keep looking for Bakura, but we need some serious shelter. And food."
"You're right," D replied quietly as he continued to rest his head on her shoulder. That weight he had been feeling was overbearing now, the world was still spinning, and all he wanted to do was fall into a deep slumber and not bother with this world again. Tired was the only word he could find to express it. The boy was tired of everything.
He felt her tense at his admission.
"You're telling me that is probably what scares me the most."
"Oh?" He straightened up in an instant, gathering all his will to push on even though he was dizzy, even against the worsening tide of emotions that would nag at him far past the existence of the girl beside him. An instant of weakness, that was all he could show her. For her sake. For all their sakes he had to carry on—if just for a little longer. He could do it. "Would have thought that you wanted to be right about something."
"Being right about the box was good enough."
"Noted," D murmured, looking off into the distance far past their decrepit shelter. "We'll need a place with water, food, protection from the elements—"
"Any forests nearby?"
D raised an eyebrow. "These forests have wolves. My father told me that years ago. He said they listened to him."
"And everywhere we take a step we've got stupid vampires and weird clingwrap people to deal with. Whoop-tie-do, what a change! If there's a forest nearby there will have to be water somewhere. If there are wolves, there are animals they eat. We can't get any more lost than we already are, right?"
"We're semi-lost. I can feel what general direction we need to go in."
"Semi-lost. Okay," she scoffed. "And if we get snowed on and bypass the one sign you are looking for or something?"
"So, you were thinking about that, too?"
"I know I'm not as 'smart' as you, but gimme some credit, dude."
D shook with silent laughter while he stepped away from her aid. He swayed a little on his feet, but whatever trauma his head had taken was nearly healed, and he figured Claire would rather have the comfort of someone able to walk by her side than the additional burden that they already carried in the way of an injured adult and two additional—undoubtedly—starving children. The wind had lessened, making the task easier, so D took on another chore and scanned the horizon, adding the city-less landscape to his knowledge and the information to his weighing of options.
After a moment of introspection, D shook his head. "We'll need to ask them. Not trying for the other place is just as dangerous."
"And what are their choices but to agree to come with us or stay where they are?"
He shrugged. "At least it was their choice."
"Like the adults when they got to choose?"
"I guess, but at least we aren't pretending that splitting up is a good thing."
"No joke…" the girl sighed. Green eyes glared up into the sky and she stamped her foot. "This is stupid."
"You're right about that. This whole situation is," D commiserated. "If it's anything, though, I do smell pine on the wind."
"Great. Let's ask everyone if they want to follow your nose."
The boy nodded and was about to turn for their encampment but furrowed his brow at the girl's strange grin. She glanced at him almost expectantly. His brow creased deeper. "What?" he asked.
Claire stood there for another second before she rolled her eyes and strode past him. "Never mind. Let's just go."
When they returned, the discussion was swift, and the decision was made in mere moments. It had to be, for the only ones cognizant were the children who refused to be separated. Theo laid comatose on his makeshift bed and even a swift shake had not awoken him. Checking the wound, D felt the first tendrils of infectious heat seep upwards from otherwise cool skin, but he surmised that the bulk of the issue was with the severity of the injury itself. Blood loss without proper replacement also added an unfortunate factor to his already less than stellar position.
Although burdened by the unconscious adult that was in dire need of proper care, D was silently grateful for the man's state. This meant less stalling, less questions, and the absence of immediate dissent.
So, after a few hours of letting their newest members eat and rest, gaining the strength and warmth necessary, they embarked on their newest journey into unknown territory. As the boy assured his friends that all would be well, he thought back on all the times Bakura had told him the very same thing and wondered just how many times the man had been winging confidence, as well.
What distressed the boy as they pressed on against the frigid cold and through the first wave of fresh powdered snow, was nothing related to his discomfort. Dark eyes watched Amami help push the makeshift carrier along, her expression deadened even for the effort of her gritted teeth. He watched Etsu huddled up against the wounded man, humming her favorite lullaby to unhearing ears as she acted as a personal space heater, each note quieter than the next. He watched Theo's head rock gently back and forth against the rolled fabric that protected him from any major bumps in the road. Even as the boy ached and wished for an end of all this sorrow in his life, he felt a fire burn within that told him to push himself further. To not give up. Words from someone or something that he could not fully recall echoed in the back of his mind about there being something else that could drive him to keep going if he could not push on for himself. Healthy or not, he clung to it, and let it fester as the little flame it was, but…
Looking back at his downtrodden friends, he realized that this new world being made, no matter what way the cards would fall, would not be meant for some. The gentleness he appreciated, and he wished to see cultivated, would not thrive in the open harshness of what the land might become. Perhaps in the pot-like pockets of the remnants of human civilization, but under the rule of the vampires? However long they were there and through their eventual decline? Who could tell?
He could push on, would push on, as the hardy, obnoxious weed he saw himself as, but others could not even if they tried. Their attempts might mean he had to hold their bloodied hand as they whispered their last unless they drifted from him and into the cozy alcoves of peace that remained. The thought depressed him.
Would he have to leave such treasured, gentle friends behind one day?
He pinched himself roughly for the selfish thought, admonishing himself with reminders that it would be safer for everyone if that were the case. Yet when he looked up, he caught Claire's eye and saw a familiar spark past the tired gaze. The great, human, need to endure and give her all, no matter what. One he had also known Bakura to have, even if they had never spoken about it. That weepy, stubborn, trusting man. His mind left his analogy swiftly at the thought of their parting hug and focused on the present. The snow. The hunger.
D would find him, no matter what—and maybe slap him before he hugged him.
He deserved it.
They stopped twice before finding the forest. Their campfires were small and made of parts of the establishments that covered them from the snow. Warmth came from bundling under the same dirty sheets; much of the heat from the flames was lost to jagged cracks and broken windows. The food consisted of a singular packaged meal per day with melted snow for water and everyone agreed to lie and give most to Theo when he awoke for a short period in hazy confusion. D monitored them in these tasks, splitting his time in the silence of their meals to listen for any other pursuing creatures. So far, they seemed safe.
An unexpected development had transpired in the boy. Listening for hard-to-detect noises was easier, he found, than it had ever been before. Whether it was his exhaustion heightening his senses through anxiousness, or if he had broken through some unidentified mental block, he did not know. What he did know was that he could now hold a conversation with Claire and still hear the exact words Etsu rambled on to Theo's sleeping form to the point he could have transcribed it—all without being distracted from his own banter back. And, already a light sleeper, he marveled that he was able to snatch cat naps while the girls went off to go to the bathroom and awaken just as they got back. It amused him to think that he was so tired that dropping off to sleep had become such an easy chore to manage. The only thing that had not noticeably changed was his sense of smell, which was as accurate as usual.
If he had bothered to ask, some of these things would have not surprised his companions. Did he not always look as if he was just resting his eyes, rather than being deeply asleep? If he practiced something, such listening for an uneven breath during a life-or-death fight, would he not get better at it?
But he did not, thus his realized growth remained a marvel.
When they reached the forest's edge, all had a moment of realization that they did not know if they actually wished to enter. Dragging Theo through the brush seemed like a terrible idea, but since the snow kept falling and there was no other shelter in sight, there were not many other options.
"We could follow the edge of it that way," D said, pointing north. "We did pass over a river with everyone before we split up."
"Water-wise I think we're fine now that it snowed," Claire said. "It's more like we need to stop literally eating into our longer lasting supplies. We need food."
"That would mean we would have to go in, right?" Amami asked, chewing on her thumbnail.
"Haven't really seen anything out in the open unless you want to eat bugs."
"Ew," Etsu inflected and shook her head. She sat upon the pallet with Theo, who stirred at her touch when she patted his leg. Fits had been thrown throughout the course of this adventure, of course, but she held within her a seed of compassion that both of her parents shared. It helped to mitigate her extreme emotions, seeing the man in the state he was in.
"He's waking up, again."
"That makes traveling even harder," Claire complained.
"Traveling was going to be bad no matter what we chose," D said.
"We are worried about wolves, right? But what about bears?"
"Amami-chan, bears hibernate."
"That's still dangerous!"
"I don't know how to tell you this, Amami, but everywhere is dangerous. Even standing here is dangerous," Claire snapped. "If we are cold and we're moving, what do you think is going on with Theo? He's probably freezing to death."
"How does going in there help at all with that?!"
"The trees are better cover from the wind than—"
"If they fall, though?"
"Why the hell would they fall?"
"Stop it," D warned the pair, stepping between them. He motioned for them to huddle and he swung his arms over each of their shoulders and tugged them to him. "We don't have time to argue. We have to trust each other, work together, and stick together, otherwise we get into situations like this. Do we want to continue that?"
"No…" Amami muttered. Claire frowned and ticked her head to the side in irritation, but the boy could see her answer in the way her face pinched in worry for the injured man.
"Do we want to be like the adults who are the reason we are all split up in the first place?"
"No," his friends replied in unison.
"Glad to see we're on the same page. Now, Theo is depending on us. He's had it the worst since all of—" D released his friends to wave his arm back the way they came, "—that. We need shelter, warmth, food, and water. Anything else will have to come later. Now, do we risk following the tree line and finding nothing at all but the river, or do we risk going into the forest for shelter and food with a high risk of getting lost? Mobility will be awful either way. We have to choose."
"Not to poke a hole in your super awesome speech or anything," Claire bantered, clearing her throat, "but we've been pretty lost this whole 'journey'. The only sure route we ever had was going one way, for whatever reason, and now that way has to be south—which isn't the way we're going, right? So, so long as we can eat and manage to survive, we'll be fine."
"No matter what world we live in, forests are dangerous," D said, giving her the side eye. With a turn of her head, she smirked and shrugged her shoulders.
"It's like I said before, everywhere is dangerous. Not new news to us, I'd hope. My vote is for going into the forest. Even with most things being in hiding or sleeping, we should be able to find some kind of meat to sustain ourselves…It's the fruits and stuff I'm worried about, since y'know. Winter. Trust me. I've got a good feeling about this."
D turned to Amami who shook her head. "I say we follow the trees and not go inside. I'm tired of being snuck up on. I don't want to make any weird things mad by accident again." Her nostrils flared in agitation at the thought. "Although, I still have no idea what we did!"
"Who knows," Claire grumbled. "But we could be snuck up on at any point in time for any reason, so I think that's a bad idea because then we're just out in the open."
"You just don't want to do my idea!"
"What did I just say!" D snapped, unable to contain his composure with time and weather being such important factors. "Knock it off! One of us wants to go one way, and the other wants to go the other way. Great. I'll be tiebreaker. Claire, why do you have a good feeling about going through the forest?"
"I dunno, I just do. It's like…my feet just want to go that way. I can't explain it," Claire replied, shaking her cold hands a little as she did so.
"That's not a good reason," Amami countered.
"It's what we were doing with Bakura, wasn't it? We'd wake up, he'd look around and be like 'ah, I think we should go this way today', and we just went with it. What is so different about this?!"
"Wait…that's how you guys really traveled?" Amami asked, blinking in confusion. She turned to D who gave her a quick nod, and then turned back to Claire with a look of sheer incredulity.
"Not at first," Claire conceded. "We followed a map until we just got so lost it didn't really matter much."
"Not really lost," D uttered. Even Claire gawked at him in skepticism at that statement. "Not that we knew that. There were plenty of times I complained that we were lost, but Bakura had this weird way of always going East, even if we didn't have a marker to go by. That's what I mean. It's like he has a place he wants to go to without realizing it." He pressed his lips closed into a thin line, unwilling to divulge more. Sometimes the memory of that night chilled him to the bone, even if the man did not.
"That's kind of scary," Amami said.
"Creepy," Claire agreed, "But I think I get it, and it works with what I'm talking about. I want to go somewhere too, and it's not like I know what's going on that way. It just feels right."
"But can we really trust a feeling?" Amami asked while rubbing at her temples. "What if we never see any of them again because we get so far off of the trail we are supposed to be on just because of a guess?"
"Is that what you are really worried about?"
The girl nodded, tears outlining the red rims of her eyes.
"Don't cry," D said. He hurriedly wiped her tears from her face. "That's not good for you in this kind of weather."
"We have each other," Claire said, wrapping her arms around Amami's shoulders. "We aren't adults, but whatever to that. No matter where we go, we won't split up, okay? Okay?" She rocked the one in her embrace from side to side. "But for real, we have to make a choice. Being wishy washy about anything isn't going to get us anywhere but dead. So, let's review: Is it safe anywhere?"
"No," Amami answered in a whisper. Her shoulders sunk low as the rest of her fight deflated.
"So, what's the difference?"
"I don't want it to hurt when I die."
Those words froze the blood of both of her friends. Hands freezing even through the fabric of bulky gloves clasped D's—they had been hovering over her face during the conversation—and squeezed. The brim of D's hat hid his expression as he tilted his gaze down to the snowy bank beside them. He listened to the mirthful I-told-you-so chiding of his not quite parasitic ally and took it as a sign that he must have shown signs that he had the strength to handle everything once more. Setting the horror in his heart aside, he pressed their clasped hands to his chest. Stared pointedly into her eyes. And said…
"I won't let it."
Ultimately, Amami agreed to go into the woods, which meant they all had to begin the process of finding a route that would allow them to tug Theo around through the underbrush until he could manage on his own. If that ever happened. As of right now he seemed to have fallen back into a half-dozing state with his little companion curled at his side.
D, in his unspoken frustration at how slow their travels had become, ripped much of the smaller offending foliage from the ground and dragged it along with him. The girls just assumed he had been trying to create a path, which was true, but he was also bound and determined to make use of it as some type of shelter. He did not like the way the sky looked, or the sharp scent that stuck to the back of his throat, teasing that more snow would be in their near future. His risky actions (for if that creature found them once more, it no doubt would have been enraged at them) worked out for the best in the end. Their work was sped up and when they accidentally stumbled upon a small alcove between two large rocks, he was able to create a shoddy (by his standards) addition to the meager jut of a roof and set up a place where they could rest for a time.
Another night was spent in the freezing darkness, where Claire murmured to herself with clasped hands at the edge of the lean-to wall, Amami fed their small fire with twigs just barely ready enough to ignite, Etsu kept the delirious Theo company as they ate the allotted rations for the day, and D patrolled from his perch above them all.
The boy listened, watched, and said nothing when he heard the first few hoots of something unknown in the distance. Whatever it was, it was far enough away. No need to find and antagonize it when everyone below deserved a good night's rest. He rested his back against the slick stone of the jagged triangular slab and tapped his heel soundlessly against the point just before it converged with the other rocky outcropping. Soon the soft snores told him he was the only one conscious in the otherwise silent expanse. He nodded to himself, flexed his left hand, and let his own eyes droop and close. Tomorrow would be a long day.