RN: Today is March 11th, the Anniversary of Never Say Goodbye! Yes, two years ago, I first posted this lovely story on as my first ever fanfic. It's remarkably appropriate, since as I said before 20 is the coming of age year in Japan. So by this chapter, by this date, I declare this story officially an adult! I guess that means it'll start getting some adult content in future chapters...
Loki: Adult content? Tsk, tsk, Robin Nightingale, are you forgetting your audience? You imply much with those words alone...
RN:I do NOT mean that, I just mean the plot is going to get a little more mature, that's all! No, NOT like that, just things are going to get...you know, never mind. I'll just let the audience wait and see...
Loki: Well, do as you want. In other matters, I've come to deliver on my promise. I don't know how you managed it with a second-rate novel like this one, but you did manage to garner those 100 reviews as you said you would. So...
*ZAP!*
RN: Ha...Ha! I'm human again! Ha, yes! Good-bye tail, hello hair! Yes, skin! No scales, no lizard tongue...I can blink! I can blink, and I can talk, and I can stand upright, and I can jump, and I can dance, ha ha...
Loki: Yes, congratulations to you. Well, I suppose I might as well leave you all with a disclaimer. See how generous I am...Yugioh is the property of Kazuki Takahashi, Toei Animation, 4kids Entertainment, and all those other lovely corporate people. If Robin Nightingale ever did own anything...well, I'm sure you wouldn't hear of it, as it'd be lost within the hour.
RN:Thanks to BullsWildEye for giving me my 100TH REVIEW! You've given me back my human form, and I am forever in your debt! At least until that debt is paid off, I suppose...
WARNING: For those of you who care, this chapter contains some bad language and implications of prostitution made by a character. It's not too bad, but I'm rating this chapter T just to be safe.
Chapter 20: A Test of Spirit
Control.
Not a tremble in his hand or his legs. Arms relaxed, back strait, eyes clear and confident. Only when they narrowed slightly did he betray the eagerness within.
Focus.
There was a crowd, just like before. Cheering, talking excitedly, pushing one another to take a look at him, but he heard none of this. His attention was all for his opponent, a youth of about fourteen, her Duel Disk already open, body poised for battle. He smirked, cracking his stoic pose at last, and obligingly opened his own Disk, Deck already in place.
Restraint.
Here, the Pharaoh momentarily broke character to mutter an incomprehensible word of vexation. For all he had said before, it still stung that he'd have to hold himself back so much. Grandpa could have at least let him use the Dark Magician…
He suddenly caught his partner's eye. Yugi stood at the end of the crowd, along with Joey, Tristan, and Téa. When their eyes met, they smiled encouragingly, and Yugi gave him a thumbs up.
The Pharaoh grinned softly. That's right…he'd sworn to himself that he'd do all he could to protect Yugi, his friends, and Grandpa, no matter the lengths. He'd promised he wouldn't put his pride over their well-being. This included—though he sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to it—shoving it away completely.
Still, he thought crossly as the holograms began, that doesn't mean I can't complain.
"There's going to be a Duel Monsters showcase in the festival," Yugi told him the day after they'd gone to the museum, when they had finished dinner and the shop had closed. "I'm part of the group that hosts it. We'll have some cards on display, and there will be Dueling matches."
They were in their room, Yugi at the desk and the Pharaoh on his bed. Yugi had brought the chair closer to the bed, his homework spread out and momentarily forgotten on the desk, and the Pharaoh had likewise abandoned the pile of Duel Monsters cards he had been working through to listen to Yugi.
"Like a tournament?" the Pharaoh inquired.
"More of a mock tournament than anything," Yugi replied. "There's no real prize or opponent chart. Anyone can challenge anyone, as long as they have a Deck. We'll be supplying the Disks. Likely we'll have three or four battles going on at once. Grandpa's going to take the opportunity to advertise our shop, and we've got permission from the school to sell some of our cards at the festival. And of course, at the start of it we'll have a demo battle to show how to play."
"You make it sound like nobody's ever heard of the game before," the Pharaoh commented. It might have been a joke if the Pharaoh weren't seriously puzzled; as the most popular game in the city, made even more so by Kaiba's Battle City Tournament only two years ago, it was hard to believe anyone could have lived in Domino City and gone unaware of Duel Monsters.
"I'm not saying they haven't heard of it, but not everyone knows the rules and guidelines. This is just to show those people more of what the game is like."
"Oh? Interesting." The Pharaoh picked up a few cards and held them next to each other, comparing them.
Yugi leaned forward, grinning hopefully. "You know, if you wanted, you could do the demo battle."
The Pharaoh raised an eyebrow wryly. "They told you to ask me, didn't they?"
His brother ducked his head embarrassedly. "Yes," he mumbled.
The Pharaoh chuckled. "Do not worry, aibou. I'd be happy to do it."
"Really?" Yugi raised his head eagerly.
The Pharaoh nodded. "Yes. I just hope I'll have familiarized myself with this Deck by then."
After the happenstance at the city game shop, the three of them had agreed that the Pharaoh get a new Deck that he, as Isashi, would use. This alone was a challenge, for the Pharaoh had only ever been using one Deck ever since he won the God Cards. As they had decided the Pharaoh would not use any of his signature cards, Yugi and Grandpa tried first to scrounge together a Deck with what they had from the shop, but choices there were limited, and nothing they had could be put together into a full Deck. They couldn't very well buy a completely new one; full Decks were expensive, and the Pharaoh refused to financially burden Grandpa in any way. With no other options apparent, he stated his willingness to accept a strung-together Deck, reminding them of his ability to make use of practically any combination of cards he'd come across.
"No, that'd be unfair to you," Grandpa replied. "You deserve a proper Deck. We just have to—oh!"
He suddenly tapped the side of his head with his fist. "This old brain…Why didn't I remember it sooner? Stay here, Isashi, I'll be right back."
The Pharaoh and Yugi watched him go, then exchanged identical looks of bafflement. Not too much later, Grandpa returned with a very dusty tin box, grinning as if he'd discovered some rare treat.
"I completely forgot all about this! I'm so embarrassed…Here, Isashi, take this."
"What is it?" the Pharaoh asked as he accepted the box.
Grandpa folded his arms. "This is one of my old Decks from ten years ago," he declared. "I Dueled with it occasionally when Yugi was just a toddler, and I thought about giving it to him once he was old enough. When that time came around, though, he'd already gotten around to making his own Deck, so I just left it there on the shelf."
The Pharaoh gently pried open the lid. The Deck inside was indeed aged-looking, with frayed ends and deep creases on some of the cards, but otherwise appeared in good condition. He tipped the Deck into his hands and spread out the cards.
He understood right away what sort of Deck this was. Yet far from looking pleased, his brow creased in hesitation.
"Grandpa, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm not very familiar with Spirit cards…"
It was rare of the Pharaoh to express such reluctance in handling cards. In the case of this Deck, however, he had good reason. Using a Spirit Deck was a whole different strategy on its own. Typically the monsters always returned back to the player's hand at the end of the turn, and while this did prove useful in some ways, it was also considerably problematic in others, and the Pharaoh had very little experience in working with monsters of this ability.
"I realize that, but you need a Deck, and that's the best option we can get, short of buying one. Besides, I don't think it'll take you very long to figure out how to use them." Grandpa beamed, apparently under the impression he'd given a great compliment.
Seeing that the Pharaoh was still hesitant, however, Grandpa sobered and added, "On a more practical note, this will be useful for your cover. It's so different from your usual methods, no one will question your identity."
The Pharaoh considered his words. That was true…hardly anyone in Domino City Dueled with Spirit Decks these days, and no one had seen its use during the Battle City Tournament. His own strategy with the God Cards had depended mainly on their ability to stay by his side, and to continue fighting for as long as they could.
"It might be too different, though," Yugi interjected, breaking through his thoughts. "I've never heard of anyone who used a Spirit Deck. What if it ends up holding him back in some way?"
"Then that would only help his cover," Grandpa responded easily. "After all, no matter how could an actor you are, you can't hide your experience. If Isashi pretended to be an amateur, those with a more skilled eye would pick up right away that he was acting."
"But—"
"It's all right, Yugi," the Pharaoh interrupted. He returned the cards to the box, carefully closing the lid. "Grandpa made a fair argument, and I agree this may be our best option."
He smiled at his grandfather. "I'm indebted to you once again. I'll start looking at them right away."
"Oh, no need to rush yourself, I'm just happy they're useful again!" Grandpa laughed. "Just take good care of 'em, they're not as young as they used to be, like me."
It seemed the Pharaoh was making good progress in practicing with the cards. But it had been slow going, and there were times where Yugi could tell that his brother was frustrated with his inability to use the cards he'd bonded with, the ones that currently sat in Yugi's Deck.
"One of these days, we'll go someplace out of the way, and you can use our old Deck," Yugi promised. He glanced at said Deck, sitting silently on his dresser, and gave a distant smile. "I'm sure they miss you too."
The Pharaoh shot him a grateful look, but answered, "Thank you, Yugi, but do not feel so obliged. I'm sure these cards and I will be able to work together just as well."
The Pharaoh cursed when he drew another magic card, adding it to the other three that already sat in his hand. He had only two monsters, and neither was strong enough to eradicate the Knight that faced him opposite the field. He'd hoped he might be able to deal some damage this round, but it seemed under the circumstances simply clearing the battlefield would have to do.
"I play Otohime in defense mode," he announced, laying down the monster, "and activate its special effect! I can change the battle position of one monster you control."
Even as he spoke the Knight was kneeling, crossing its arms in front of itself and spreading its shields.
"Then I'll play another monster, Tsukuyomi!" A shadowed woman materialized on the field, its elegant kimono flowing in a non-existent wind. It raised its fans into a stance.
"Tsukuyomi, attack Gem-Knight Emerald!"
The monster leapt forward at his command, bringing its fans upon the warrior. The Knight cried out as the fans slashed it to shreds, the pieces dissolving into dust immediately.
The girl hardly blinked. The Pharaoh's frown deepened, and he let out a small huff.
"I'll place two cards face down and end my turn," he finished, both monsters already evaporating into mist. As tendrils of gas returned to his hand, he found himself praying the heart of the cards might let him last the next round.
To his discouragement, his opponent grinned. "As a special effect of my Monster, I get to summon a fusion Gem-Knight from my Graveyard," she said back. A card slid from the Graveyard slot, and she immediately played it. "I choose Gem-Knight Amethyst!"
The Knight materialized, its purple armor glinting in the sunlight. It let out a low growl, slicing the air before it with its spear-gun before bringing the point to rest directly at the Pharaoh.
"You should have taken your chances with my other Knight," the girl declared, her smirk mirrored in her Monster. "Gem-Knight Amethyst, attack him directly!"
"You'll be playing against the co-host of the showcase, Miwa Nagihara. She's a third year, like me, and she's been Dueling for about a year now. I've played against her a couple of times. She's very good for her amount of experience."
"Is that so?"
Yugi nodded. "She hasn't managed to beat me yet—she tends to use the same strategy, and though it's a good one, you'll probably be able to see through it—but I promise you'll have a good Duel."
"You know I'll have a good time regardless of whom I go up against."
"True." Yugi gave a secretive smile. "But I think you'll really enjoy this one."
The blade of the spear glowed with energy, the sounds of the charge building up until it fired a beam directly at the Pharaoh. Gritting his teeth, he flipped up his quick-play trap card, Mirror Force. He shielded his eyes from the gust of wind brought about as the attack dispersed harmlessly around him, his jacket flapping in the gale.
The holographic beam rebounded off the half-bubble suddenly formed around the Pharaoh and hit the Knight. It shouted in surprise when the beam struck, and dissolved almost instantaneously.
Miwa's mouth had fallen open in surprise as her Knight's remains trickled away. Giving a smirk of his own, the Pharaoh said, "Perhaps you should have chosen another Knight to waste, Nagihara. Care to give up another?"
Miwa narrowed her eyes, and she matched his challenging smile. "Thanks, but I'm not so amateurish as to rush in after that."
She set one card face down, and placed Gem Knight Tourmalin in defense mode. "Besides, I'm quite content with wearing you down bit by bit."
The spectators laughed, for the irony in her words was obvious in their current score. The Pharaoh had lost only 1000 Life Points since the beginning of the battle, while she was down to 1800. For all the trouble caused by the inconsistency of the Spirit Deck, the Pharaoh had held the upper hand since the second round.
"Bold words considering I'm the one who keeps taking care of all your monsters," he retorted. "I'm sure there's strategy in letting your opponent beat you each turn, but for the life of me, I can't imagine what it could be."
Even as he spoke, he bit back the regret that he had to lie so plainly. He'd long ago guessed her tactic, and even now he hid his excitement, masking it with boldfaced confidence. No doubt each monster he sent to the Graveyard acted as a sacrifice, and a much stronger monster lurked in her Deck, just waiting for the chance to appear. She had begun strong, and shaved off 500 Life Points with the first chance she had to attack. This, he deduced, was the sting to rile up her opponents. Afterwards, she had populated her field with lesser monsters, and though she continued to maintain a steady defense, her moves became significantly less offensive. Immediately suspicious, the Pharaoh soon noticed a pattern; certain, weaker monsters were hidden behind stronger monsters and face-down cards, but were exposed just enough that it would be simple to wipe them out and cause damage. Should the opponent be clever enough to figure it out, they served as an alternative to her much more formidable front. A lesser Duelist wouldn't be able to resist, and would take every chance to pay back her first blow ten times over. It was a beautiful strategy.
And so Pharaoh fought with the regret that he would have to play the lesser Duelist, and though he dearly wished to match the entirety of his wits against hers, he ignored the warning his instinct gave him and attacked as much as he could, sending her Knights to the Graveyard again and again. In a way, her strategy had worked; there was a small gratification in seeing his monster dispatch hers, made all the sweeter in memory of watching those first 500 points drain away. But pleasure was ruined in the knowledge that in the end, his choices would cost him. Badly.
On the other side of the school, a lone visitor approached the entrance to the festival.
A festival flyer fluttered weakly in his fist, as if trying to escape his grasp. Its efforts, though valiant, were in vain when its captor unfolded it once again and scanned over its contents.
Brown eyes laced with venom sought out the reason for bothering to come all the way to this miserable event. The flyer drawings were cheap and ridiculous, and the events seemed dull and childish. But there was a diamond hidden in the coal—in the corner of the paper, in bold black lettering, was the announcement, Duel Monsters Showcase! Come to the south courtyard at 3:00 pm! Demo battle at 3:15, featuring King of Games twin Isashi Takahashi vs Miwa Nagihara!
Pale, bloodless lips curled back in a sneer, and an equally pale fist crumpled the flyer, tossing it to the side in a heap. Running his fingers through messy, white bangs, the Spirit of the Millennium Ring stalked towards the school, his other hand flexing in anticipation.
At the gate, a line of people stretched down the front wall. A lone white table stood at the head of it, at which sat a teenage boy and girl, both dressed in Domino High School uniforms. As the boy stamped the hands of each person who entered, the girl collected their money and tickets, though by this point the overenthusiastic boy had practically taken over her job. Bored, she idly twirled the pen in her hand, her gaze wandering down the street.
She suddenly caught sight of Bakura, and immediately her expression brightened, a hint of a blush reddening her cheeks.
"Bakura-kun!" she exclaimed, nearly knocking the table over when she stood. She ignored her classmate's sound of protest as she made her way out of the table and ran towards him.
Bakura halted, turning to glare at whoever might be interrupting his thoughts. He'd been looking over the line and trying to decide on the best way to slip through without anybody noticing when the girl called, and not for the first time, he cursed his vessel's knack for garnering attention. How such a spineless, sniveling weakling could have become so popular was beyond him…
His gaze narrowed. Then again…perhaps with her…
A crooked smirk crossed his lips for an instant before vanishing into a smooth and friendly smile. He started towards her even as she slowed to greet him, gathering his features into his host's usual polite expression.
"I'm amazed you're here!" the girl exclaimed when they reached each other. "I haven't seen you in months! Are you feeling better? We'd heard you went to the hospital…"
"It was nothing serious," Bakura replied smoothly. "I'm feeling much better now."
"Oh, I'm so glad," the girl sighed, putting a hand over her chest in exaggerated relief. "We were talking about how much we missed you in class. Yuki was especially concerned, I don't think she was able to concentrate at all on classes that first week we were told you were in the hospital. Everyone was really worried about you! So when I saw you, I wanted to check that you were really okay."
"That's very kind of you, I appreciate it." His sugary words barely concealed the disgust roiling beneath. Gods above, does this bitch ever shut up?!
"I thought I'd get out for a bit, come see the festival," Bakura said aloud, before she could launch into another bout of flustered worry. "I've been cooped up inside for so long, I decided I needed some fresh air before I'd go crazy."
He added a chuckle, and the girl tittered along with him, her face steadily growing deeper shade sof red.
"That's great, I'm glad you decided to come. Did you come to see anything in particular or…Wait! Don't tell me…" She winked. "The Duel Monsters Showcase, right?"
Bakura gave a sly smile. "How did you guess?"
"Well, it's only obvious! I'm surprised you came so late, though. The demo match has probably started by now."
Then stop talking and let me through! "Has it? Oh, no!" Bakura's forehead creased in worry, and he heaved a sigh. "I knew I should have been more insistent. But Father wouldn't let me leave the house until just a few minutes ago. I don't blame him, of course, I know he's just worried about me, and I hate to make him upset…"
He passed a regretful gaze over the line of people, still as long as when he first arrived. "But now the line's so long, I don't think I'll be able to get to see the demo battle before it ends. It's really too bad…Everyone's been talking about this Isashi person, and I really wanted to see him in action. Father probably won't let me go back to school for another month, so this was probably my only chance…"
He let the sentence linger on a wistful note and waited for the girl's reaction. Sure enough, her expression had fallen to sympathy and alarm. Now all he had to do was pass through her groans of pity and he'd be as good as through…
What he didn't expect was for her to suddenly grab his arm. He barely managed to resist snatching it back and smacking her with it. He was too slow, however, to prevent a grimace from darkening his features, and upon seeing it the girl withdrew, startled. Damn it, and after all that sickening garbage he'd had to pull up—
"Please, don't look so sad! It's not too late, I can get you there on time!" Unexpectedly, she returned with even more vigor than before, eyes wide with determination. She grasped his arm again, clasping it between her hands in a gesture of condolence. Bakura blinked at her, momentarily taken off guard, but quickly schooled his expression into relief and happiness.
"R-really? That's great, thank you! I thought it'd be hopeless for sure…"
It seemed she'd somehow mistaken his disgust for troubled sorrow. He supposed, if he hadn't renounced the gods long ago, he'd thank Ra that teenage fan girls were so astoundingly ignorant.
"Not at all! Come with me, I'll let you in!" Her hand still latched around his wrist, the girl tugged him back toward the front gate. So doggedly determined were her actions that she failed to see the murderous glint that flashed through his eyes, or his fingers twitching with the urge to snap her arm in half.
They passed the table in front of the line, not even stopping to wait for the other visitors. The boy, still at the table, suddenly noticed them and brandished the stamp, calling, "Wait, Chiriko-chan! What are you—he hasn't paid yet!"
"Don't worry, he's working in one of the booths! I'm just showing him the way!" the girl shouted back easily.
She led him into the thick of the crowds and around a corner, where they stopped between two booths. There, she finally let go of his arm and turned around to face him, her face bright with exhilaration.
"You should be fine now," she said breathlessly. "I think you should be able to catch most of it if you hurry."
"I can't thank you enough," Bakura replied, giving a brief smile. He started to head further behind the booths, towards the west wing of the school.
The girl watched him go for a second, biting her lip, then suddenly called out, "Um, Bakura-kun!"
"Sorry, Chiriko-chan, I've really got to hurry, or I'll miss it!" Bakura sent back a wave and an apologetic grin as he slipped between the booths and disappeared into the crowd.
"Oh…okay…" Chiriko's outstretched hand slowly retracted, the fingers curling into a soft, disappointed fist. For a heartbeat the girl stood there, alone.
Then she pressed her palms to either cheek, suppressing a squeal of delight as a blush colored her face once again. He remembered my name!
Filthy female, Bakura thought furiously, shoving his way through the throngs of people and ignoring those who protested. Making me waste my time…
Drawing upon his host's memory of the school's layout, he finally arrived at the south courtyard. From there, it was easy to pick out the Duel Monsters Showcase. The event was easily the highlight of the entire festival; while most events took place in patches of concrete barely five feet wide, here the Dueling strips took up more than half the courtyard, and a ground-level stage had been set up at the far end, presumably for the demo battle. A large crowd had gathered at the stage's base, and though they hid the Duelists from view, the holograms of the Monsters towered over their heads.
For a moment, Bakura hesitated, confused. Neither side of monsters seemed typical of the Puzzle Spirit to use. Perhaps he'd missed the demo battle after all? If that were the case, he'd find that whore and strip out her soul shred by shred for stalling him for so long—But no, when he checked his host's phone, he found it was only 3:30.
He needed a closer look. Striding to the crowd, he grabbed the person nearest to him upon reaching it—a young man—and shoved him roughly out of the way, taking his place.
The man stumbled and yelled in protest, somehow managing to stay on two feet. When he regained his balance, he marched back angrily. "Hey! What the hell are you—?!"
He cut off at the sight of Bakura's glare, cold and menacing and promising definite punishment if he finished that sentence. Gulping, the man backed up, stammering, "N-never mind, i-it was my fault…"
He bolted, and Bakura returned his gaze to the Duel. Or, more specifically, 'Isashi'.
If the fools were up to something, they were doing a very poor job of covering themselves. This was obviously the hypocrite king, once again possessing his host's body while he Dueled some forgettable scrap. Though why the Pharaoh was holding himself back so much, he couldn't imag—
Bakura nearly choked on his gasp as he did a double take, his eyes widening. For a moment he simply stared, speechless, perhaps for the first time in his life.
Impossible!
It couldn't have been! Where was the Puzzle?! Instead of the golden pyramid, a cheap replica of the Eye of Horus sat against the boy's chest. Without the Pharaoh's soul container, it should have been his host who stood there with—only Set knew why—a Spirit Deck, of all things. Yet it was undeniably the Pharaoh who Dueled!
He knew he wasn't mistaken. Bakura prided himself in the fact that he had keener senses than the mortals he had to share this realm with. He always knew if the Pharaoh were in control or not, and right now he could practically taste the Pharaoh's soul inhabiting that lump of meat. It didn't matter how close the Pharaoh and his host claimed to be. If the boy was not touching the metal, the Pharaoh's soul could not cross the gap into flesh, and he'd be isolated as he had been for the last 3000 years. His soul was bonded to the artifact, and nothing could overcome that. And yet…
The crowd let out a cheer, and he suddenly realized he'd been up against the railing, gripping it as if ready to leap over and rush at the Pharaoh himself. Quickly he retreated, allowing others to file in front of him without obscuring his view. That'd been close…the last thing he needed was to be seen by the wrong people.
What he did need was answers…His gaze darted around, searching for something that might explain this. Was someone controlling him? Perhaps he'd kidnap the boy himself after the Duel when nobody was—
Bakura stilled, dumbstruck, when his eyes landed not ten feet away from him, where next to the fool, the lackey, and the bitch, Yugi—a second Yugi—stood in the crowd.
How…?
He didn't understand. He hated not understanding. He knew secrets the bastard king and his host couldn't even dream of! So how, by all the demons of the Shadow Realm, could those morons accomplish this without his knowledge?!
For an instant, doubt overcame him. A twin sibling…could it be…?
No, that was ridiculous. He'd never heard of the Muto brat having a sibling, and from what he gleaned from his host's memories, Ryou hadn't either. That boy had to be the Pharaoh, no question about it. Maybe it was he who stood in the crowd and not his host…no, that Yugi looked far too pitiful to be his darker half.
But the brat held the Puzzle, and contrary to all reason, the Pharaoh did not.
They can't have bridged the gap. It's not possible!
Unless…
His own words suddenly echoed back in his mind; Nothing could overcome that.
Overcome…Bakura ground his teeth, hardly noticing blood seep into his mouth as he caught his lip between his fangs. Somehow, the damn mortals, they…!
He felt himself relaxing as comprehension settled on him at last. Twin sibling indeed, he sneered. Shall we see, 'Isashi', just how long your façade can last?
Acting to be a different person was one thing, the Spirit knew all too well. Maybe the Pharaoh and his host had the rest of these sheep fooled. But Dueling revealed a person's true natures, and Bakura knew all he had to do was wait for the final moment, when the cheating king would pull off some miraculous move and take victory once again. The Spirit of the Millennium Ring crossed his arms and watched, content to let the Pharaoh bring about his own downfall.
If he was correct, it wouldn't take long.
"Yeah, Isashi's kickin' ass! You got this, bro—ow, Téa! The hell was dat for?!"
Joey yelped when Téa smacked his head a second time. "There are kids here, dummy," Téa hissed. "Language!"
"Geez, get off my back, Ma," Joey muttered crossly.
"Come on, Téa, he's just excited! The Pha—I mean, Isashi's winning! This outta be over in a couple moves!" Tristan raised his hands to cup his mouth. "GO ISASHI! YOU CAN DO IT!"
Téa rolled her eyes, but laughed all the same. When she saw Yugi, however, she stopped and frowned. "Yugi? What's wrong?"
Yugi was the only one not cheering, instead biting his lip in a worried manner as he watched his twin. At Téa's inquiry he looked up, and fumbled to reply.
"Ah…um…just looks to be a close match, that's all."
"Really?" Téa frowned and peered at the two Duelists. "It hasn't looked all that close to me…"
"Course not, Téa, whatt'reya even talkin' about? Isashi's got dis one in the bag!"
As Téa argued over whether she'd doubted the Pharaoh or not, Yugi gave a short, relieved sigh. He really couldn't tell them; he and Grandpa had agreed, for the Pharaoh's sake, that only they three know the plan behind this Duel. At least until the match ended, anyways…
Ah—! Yugi finally caught the Pharaoh's eye, as he'd been hoping to do for the past ten minutes. Before the Pharaoh could look away again, he patted the air in front of him.
The Pharaoh met his gaze fully, and contracted his brow questioningly. The excited smirk he'd been wearing faltered somewhat.
Very subtly, and with a pained expression, Yugi shook his head.
He could tell the Pharaoh got the message right away, for his brother's expression hardened, and he stilled for a full second. Then he blinked, long and slow, and returned to the battle as smoothly as if he'd never broken away.
Yugi sighed shakily, glad he didn't have to continue gesturing. He hated to break the Pharaoh's concentration, especially for a message so harsh, but he had to remind him…
Sorry, Pharaoh, but you're not supposed to win.
The night before…
"Isashi, could I have a word with you?"
The Pharaoh looked up from the living room table, upon which the Spirit Deck was laid out in a Dueling configuration. Yugi was out for the evening, working at a classmate's house to plan for the upcoming festival showcase. For the past few days the Pharaoh had been spending every spare moment he had to practice with the Deck, familiarizing himself with the cards and planning what strategies he might use in the Duel that weekend.
"Of course. Is something the matter?"
"No, not at all. Just, eh...Well, I've been meaning to speak to you about this for a while, but I wanted it to be between just the two of us." Grandpa sat at the table across from him. His demeanor was friendly, but the Pharaoh could sense a serious conversation on the way. Knowing his full attention would be needed, he picked up the cards and stacked them next to where he sat. Grandpa saw this, but instead of objecting and telling the Pharaoh not to bother, like he usually did, he silently waited for the Pharaoh to finish.
It really was going to be serious, then.
When Pharaoh stacked the last of the cards to the side, Grandpa spread his hands across the table, smiling. "So! I hear you're going to be doing a demo battle at the festival this weekend."
"Yes, Yugi asked me if I could."
"I see. Do you know who you're going to be battling against?"
"He told me it will be his classmate, Miwa Nagihara."
Grandpa tilted his head. "So…nobody you know?"
The Pharaoh frowned. "...Does that make a difference?"
Grandpa gave a slow, long hum, crossing his arms and passing his gaze along the table. "I know you won't want to hear this, but I think it would be better if you heard me out," he replied, his tone heavy with concern, yet tentative, as if he expected the Pharaoh to suddenly shout at him.
The Pharaoh looked at him somewhat suspiciously, but folded his hands in his lap and inclined his head for Grandpa to continue. Seeming more at ease at the invitation, Grandpa leaned forward.
"I just wanted to check in on how you plan to approach this match," he began. "How do you intend to go through with this?"
Is that it? The Pharaoh let loose a small grin, and his eyes fell back to his Deck. "Well, it was a little difficult to decide on a good, ambiguous opening strategy, but I think I've decided on—."
"No, I'm not talking about that. I mean, how are you going to act in this Duel?"
The Pharaoh contracted his brow. A small part of him was already growing reluctant to continue this conversation, yet he asked, "What do you mean?"
Grandpa sighed, the wrinkles on his mouth deepening.
"Listen, Pharaoh," he said, his voice low. "This match won't be like when you went up against that shop clerk. At that time, your appearance was a shocking surprise, and most were too distracted by their discovery of you to care about much else. This one, though, will be public. Very public. Public in the sense that you have been seen already, and people will come to see this match with expectations. They'll have been anticipating it for a while, and they'll watch with assumptions about you. Most, if not all of them, will expect you to win."
A sliver of satisfaction pooled in the Pharaoh's chest. "And I won't disappoint them," he stated firmly.
"Actually, I think it would be better if you did."
Immediately the sliver cracked. And ever so slightly, the Pharaoh's gaze chilled.
"I beg your pardon?" he asked softly.
To his credit, Grandpa didn't back down, even though the old man's own Duelist senses were shouting at him to break off the conversation in light of this sudden, powerful new opponent. Keeping his tone gentle, Grandpa explained, "People have heard about you now, Isashi. Maybe not as the Pharaoh or Yugi Muto, but they've heard about you nevertheless. And among those who have heard, there will definitely be people familiar with your Dueling. Most likely people we know, and most likely people we don't want recognizing you."
"I thought that was the point of the Spirit Deck, Grandpa," the Pharaoh replied, his voice dangerously calm. "To…handicap me, so that my Dueling style may be less recognizable to those who would harm us."
Grandpa winced at the word 'handicap'. "Yes, that is one of the main reasons for you using the Deck," he admitted. "And I must tell you how proud I am of you to make such a sacrifice."
"And yet you would ask more of me." Fury leaked through that steely exterior. "When you gave me the Spirit Deck, you made me believe it was sufficient for my cover. I don't understand why you would change your mind so soon."
"It's not that, I'd been thinking about this for some time," Grandpa corrected hastily. "I'm only telling you this now because at first I believed the Spirit Deck would be enough. But it's clear, from how I've watched you practice, that it won't be nearly enough after all."
The spirit stopped bristling somewhat, and narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
Grandpa chose his next words with care. This was the crucial moment, and only the right message would keep the Pharaoh listening. "What you don't understand is that it's very hard to truly handicap you, Pharaoh," he began. "Whatever the challenges, whatever the risks, you manage to overcome them again and again. It's almost scary how well you manage to get yourself out of those tight spots. Whether it's due to the Heart of the Cards, the powers of the Millennium Puzzle, or your own astounding skill, none of us can say for sure, but the one thing that we all acknowledge, both your loved ones and your enemies, is that you are undefeatable."
To his surprise, the Pharaoh grew still, and nearly all of his anger seemed to wash away to be replaced by…mourning. "I would not say the same," the spirit said quietly.
Grandpa sat in confusion for a moment, before suddenly realizing what the Pharaoh meant. He gave a kind smile, and replied, "I don't count the battle between you and Raphael, and neither does Yugi, I'm sure. Raphael must have tricked you into that situation, and with the Stone influencing you, not even you could have gotten out of it. In a fair fight you would have won."
The Pharaoh seemed to listen, but didn't appear to be convinced. If anything, he seemed to grow more annoyed. Before Grandpa could smooth over the subject, however, the Pharaoh said, with the same frustration as before, "That still does not explain why you are asking this of me. You told me before to enjoy myself, and to not let anything prevent that from happening. I would think having to intentionally lose is a great hindrance on my ability to enjoy myself."
"This is only a precaution, Isashi. A way to make sure that your enemies, if they are watching, lose interest in you. After this, you would be free to do as you wish, since I believe you would only have to do this once. But it is necessary. Your enemies will be expecting you to win, especially in a troublesome situation. But knowing you, the one thing they will never believe you'd do is lose."
He was no closer to convincing the Pharaoh, Grandpa knew. Perhaps the only thing keeping the spirit here at all was the fact that Grandpa was speaking, a fact the old man was quite grateful for. But the Pharaoh appeared to be growing less and less willing to listen. If he could not convince the spirit now, he might never get another chance.
"Think of it this way," Grandpa tried. "It is true that you, as the Pharaoh, would never back down from a fight, and you would do everything in your power to achieve victory."
The Pharaoh raised his gaze questioningly. Seizing his chance, Grandpa continued, "The Pharaoh would never lose, and he would never agree to lose. But…Isashi Takahashi could."
The Pharaoh's brow smoothed, and at last it seemed Grandpa's words were getting through. This the Pharaoh appeared to accept, or at least consider. When he spoke, it was with a measure of thoughtfulness.
"I understand what you are trying to tell me, Grandpa. But...a part of it still feels deceptive, at least to myself. I'm not sure I could Duel that way."
"It doesn't have to be that way, just any way that you feel comfortable with, or at least one that you can tolerate," Grandpa replied. "What matters is, the loss won't be real, at least not for you. It will just be another cover, an image to convince those whom we need to see it."
The Pharaoh's scowl deepened. "It is not that simple, Grandpa. You are asking me to deceive everyone and have them believe that I have lost, all the while telling myself that it did not count. Perhaps it is easier to say when you are not the one who has to do it. Despite what you have said before, I do not disregard my battle with Raphael as a simple trick, one to be thought of lightly. Though it is not a hardship I wish to dwell upon, much less repeat, I have chosen never to forget it, for it taught me a valuable lesson, perhaps the greatest one I have ever learned. Right now, you ask much of me. It is to the point where I am starting to believe you take my abilities for granted."
For a moment, Grandpa nearly lost himself and just about told his grandson off then and there for acting so spiteful. But, he had to admit, the Pharaoh was right. He had never taken very well to losing himself when he was younger, and though he'd never had to be told to lose deliberately, the sting of defeat was still strong even when the battle had been fair. Gathering all of his wisdom, and his experience with raising one teenage grandson, he took a deep breath, and laced his fingers together. "I am Yugi's grandfather and yours as well," he replied solemnly. "I am your friend, your trusted companion in your destiny, and right now, your advisor. I realize it has been difficult for you, having to hide yourself in such a manner, and I'm sorry if it seems we ask much of you. I realize I may not have much of a right to ask this of you. But please believe me when I say I could never take you for granted."
He could see the Pharaoh's expression soften somewhat at that, and the young man's gaze slid to the side. He took that moment to breathe, making sure not to show his relief, even though inwardly he wanted nothing more than to take a lie-down.
It was a few minutes before the Pharaoh spoke again, and by that time, it seemed he had finally come to a meeting point with his grandfather. "Even if I were to agree and somehow convince myself to go through with this, I cannot guarantee it would happen, Grandpa. Unless I were to surrender at some point during the battle, I do not think defeat will come easily. No matter what you say, I intend to fight to my fullest—," his tone hardened in defiance, "—and considering how Yugi has spoken of my opponent, I doubt even with the Spirit Deck that she would overcome me so easily."
Only he could boast his skills in such a modest manner, Grandpa thought amusedly. He took that moment to shift his legs from their position to underneath him, groaning all the while as his joints cracked and popped. Oh, how I hate getting old…
"If you want advice on how to surrender intentionally," Grandpa sighed aloud, settling into his new position, " then I suggest you ask Yugi."
The Pharaoh raised his eyebrows. "What are you saying, Grandpa?" There was a challenging note in his voice, as if he had grown offended that Grandpa recommend Yugi, of all people.
Grandpa chuckled. "Do you remember when Yugi Dueled Rebecca Hawkeye for my Blue Eyes White Dragon?"
The Pharaoh thought back to this. As a matter of fact, he did recall such a Duel took place. However, he had not surfaced for much of it; to his surprise, prior to the Duel Yugi had requested he leave his influence out of the Duel, under the pretense that it would not be necessary. Respectfully the spirit had withdrawn, choosing to enter the depths of the Puzzle instead and wait until Yugi had told him the Duel was done.
"Not long after returning from Duelist Kingdom, Yugi met Rebecca Hawkeye. At the time, she'd recently flown in from America, and the one thing she wanted was revenge."
At the Pharaoh's shocked look (for in the spirit's eye, Rebecca, though strong-willed, had never appeared the vengeful type) Grandpa laughed. "Oh, it was nothing too serious. She merely wished to 'retrieve' my Blue Eyes, which was given to me by her father, Arthur. Of course, she didn't know that; she was convinced I had stolen it somehow, and was determined to get it back for her father. Yugi decided to Duel her instead of me, with the winner claiming possession of the card.
"At the time, Yugi's victory was certain. As skilled as Rebecca was, we all knew she was not yet skilled enough to match Yugi. But she was fierce, and determined to win at any cost."
Just like me.
Another jolt ran through the Pharaoh, but he shoved it down. Shut up, he hissed to himself, and forced himself to listen to Grandpa's story.
"Of course, it was this girl's resolution to use any means necessary that saddened Yugi. I'm quite sure it would have saddened you as well, had you been Dueling. He wanted to teach her that Dueling was not about winning—there was more than that. And so, the moment he drew the card that would have won him the battle…he surrendered."
The Pharaoh's eyes widened. "He what?"
"It was necessary," Grandpa explained. "By showing that he would have won, had he chosen to, yet deciding to lose instead, he proved to Rebecca that winning is not the goal of a true Duelist. I'm sure you understand."
The Pharaoh didn't reply right away to that. His mouth pressed into a thin line, and Grandpa waited patiently for him to speak.
"I see why you have told me this, Grandpa, but I cannot treat it the same way. In that Duel, Yugi did what he had to. This situation is different from that."
"But no less necessary." Grandpa folded his arms. "I believe it is the only measure sufficient in this situation, Isashi. Besides," he winked, "it might even be beneficial in the long run in ways other than getting the bad guys off our backs."
A particular thought seemed to strike the Pharaoh at that. Curiously, and with a tinge of concern, Grandpa watched him consider his words, then suddenly come to an understanding. Whatever that understanding was, it gave a much greater effect than Grandpa intended. He had merely wished to imply that the Pharaoh (and indirectly, the shop) would be far less crowded with pestering fans day and night, but it seemed the Pharaoh had reached a different conclusion. It weighed on the Pharaoh's soul like nothing Grandpa had ever seen, for the spirit suddenly seemed a thousand years older.
"I understand, Grandpa," the Pharaoh said finally. "Thank you. I shall speak to Yugi about this."
Pa-chack! "I'm home!"
Grandpa laughed. "Speak of the Duelist," he remarked, and the Pharaoh chuckled.
The old man rose. "Dinner will be ready in an hour. That should give you both enough time to talk."
"Mmm." The Pharaoh retrieved his Spirit Deck and began to shuffle it.
"Oh, and Isashi?" The Pharaoh looked up.
Grandpa winked. "Enjoy yourself at the tournament."
Miwa narrowed her eyes at the gust of wind brought forth by the destruction of yet another Gem Knight. The Life Point counter on her Duel Disk ticked down to 1500.
She tsked, and at the end of Isashi's turn drew a card. Still not it, she thought, frowning. But…
"As an effect of my knight, I get to draw an additional card!" she announced. She placed Gem-Knight Obsidian in her hand, and picked a Spell Card. "Then I play Pot of Greed!"
Placing it into the Graveyard slot, two more cards slid out. She looked at them, and a wide, victorious grin spread over her face. At last!
"Prepare yourself, Isashi!" she crowed. "This round, it's over!"
Isashi narrowed his eyes. With a flourish, Miwa whipped out a Spell Card. "I play Monster Reborn, to bring back my Gem-Knight Tourmaline!"
The bronze Knight reappeared, and let out a battle cry. With a clap of its hands, a ball of electricity sparked between its palms and remained there, sparking menacingly.
"Then I play Gem-Knight Obsidian and Gem-Knight Alexandrite," she declared, and the two Knights appeared in flashes of light. "Then finally, I tribute them to summon…Gem-Knight Master Diamond!"
The three Knights on the field dissolved into pieces of light, which then began to coalesce. A single, larger Knight began to form, brandishing a gigantic sword studded in jewels, the Monster's armor embedded with diamonds that glittered in the sunlight. With one swipe of its blade, a gust of wind whipped up, and the entire crowd was forced to shield themselves.
"As a special effect of my Monster, for every Gem Knight in my Graveyard, Gem-Knight Diamond gains an additional 100 attack points." The attack counter for the Knight, which was already at an impressive 2900, suddenly climbed to 3400, and the size of the sword increased with it.
"That's more than enough to beat you," Miwa said, triumph swelling her chest. "I guess you're only lucky I can't attack this round. No matter what monster you have in your Deck, my Knight will stand against it. And at the end of your turn, with no monsters to defend yourself with, you'll be finished!"
In the crowd, Joey pounded his fist against the railing. "Come on, Isashi," he growled, gripping the metal with both hands. "I know you can do this!"
"That Spirit Deck's been causing him trouble from the start," Téa said worriedly. "I feel like there might not be much he can do at this point."
She looked to Yugi. "Why did your Grandpa give him that Deck, of all things? He should have known it'd slow him down!"
"Come on, Téa, he's faced worse odds before and won," Tristan said assuredly, though he, too, seemed noticeably concerned. "We just gotta wait until he pulls off a miracle winning move, like always!"
"I don't know what you might be talking about, Tristan, considering we only just met him not too long ago," Yugi put in quickly, emphasizing the last words. He gave Tristan a pointed look, and his friend returned with an apologetic expression.
"Oh, right, of course," he chuckled nervously.
Not too far away, Bakura stared intently at Isashi, so focused that he failed to hear what Yugi had said. But it did not matter. To the spirit, there was little doubt Isashi was the bastard king, and now the moment he had been waiting for had come.
Show us, Isashi, he thought hungrily. Show the world your true nature. And when you do…
The Millennium Ring glowed, mimicking the wild light in its owner's eyes.
…I'm coming for you next.
One chance.
He had one chance to turn this around.
This was nothing new. He'd been in moments of slimmer odds, with much more on the line than now. He'd faced the Winged Dragon of Ra in the hands of a deranged psychopath, when it seemed sure he'd perish from the One Turn Kill if he didn't draw the single card that might save him. In those moments, the same thought had always flitted across his mind.
I'm going to lose.
It was always quiet, subtle, and sometimes so quick he nearly missed it. But it always began the same devastating effect; freezing ice spreading through his chest and his head, his fingers trembling ever so slightly so that they slipped among the cards. Then the weight of despair sinking through his body like a stone, dragging him closer downwards until he could barely hold himself up.
It was countered by desperation, that final flame of a last resort surging in response, refilling his limbs with life. It burned away the ice in his chest, and screamed a reply in his mind: I WILL NOT.
In that moment, the Heart of the Cards would throb in answer, and he would know, with his next move,victory would be his.
Such was the instinct that drove him now. He relinquished his hold on his body, and his limbs moved on his own. When his fingertips touched the card, a small jolt ran through him, easing his anxiety and filling him with strength. The card was drawn before he even realized what he was doing, and he stared, half in disbelief, half in triumph, at his winning card.
Soul Release.
The Pharaoh glanced at his friends in the crowd, a tell-tale smile tugging at his mouth, his gaze firm with confidence. At it, his friends cheered even louder.
"I knew it!" Joey shouted, pumping his fist. "He's got this one down! I knew he'd pull through!"
"No mistaking that look, he's holding victory in his hands!" Tristan whooped.
Even Yugi, for all he and his grandfather had spoken before, felt himself swell with elation, and in that moment his heart was with his brother to win.
All of you...I do this for you, the Pharaoh proclaimed silently. He already held Otohime in his hand, as well as a fearsome monster: Yamata Dragon. Once Soul Release had banished the five Gem Knights in Miwa's deck, Otohime would bring the Diamond Knight to defense position, where Yamata Dragon would dispose of it. With that, Yaksha, the Monster he had drawn in the previous round, would easily take care of Miwa's 1500 Life Points.
Sending a smirk across to Miwa, the Pharaoh prepared to enact his move and raised his hand with the Spell Card. But, in that moment, his gaze slid once more to the crowd. The sounds around him faded, as if he were in a bubble, and the echoing, metallic ring of the Millennium Items overtook them. And there, for the first time, he saw Bakura.
His eyes widened. He knew immediately it was the Spirit who watched him. The white-haired Duelist stared at him with an eager, almost ravenous look in his eyes, and a manic smile was raising his lips. Even as the Pharaoh made eye contact, Bakura made no move to conceal himself; rather, he seemed to smile wider because of it.
In that instant, the Pharaoh realized...He suspects me.
Suddenly his entire conversation with Grandpa flooded through his head. Everything he had vowed, everything he had been warned...It was as they feared.
And from this, though his soul begged against it, he lowered his hand. He knew what he had to do.
He looked back to his partner. Yugi...he pleaded silently. He could not do this alone.
Without words, his brother heard, and nodded.
Grandpa, know that whatever transpires here, I will not forget...
"I pass my turn," the Pharaoh said aloud, ignoring the shocked murmurs and gasps from the crowd. "It seems today my luck is unfavorable."
He spread his arms wide, his field bare of any cards before him. "It is your victory, Miwa. Claim it."
At first, Miwa seemed hesitant, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. But, when Isashi smiled wide and raised his head, his gaze that of a man who had accepted defeat, she allowed herself the rush of triumph that had been crashing against her heart from the moment she drew her winning card. "If that's the way you want it," she said back, and thrust out her arm. "Gem-Knight Master Diamond! ATTACK ISASHI DIRECTLY!"
With a growl, the Knight hefted its blade upwards. It twirled it once, twice in the air, the lunged forward and slashed.
The Pharaoh closed his eyes as his Life Points drained away to 0, his chest constricting as the sting of defeat washed over him once again. As he'd suspected, it hadn't lessened since the first time, and for a second he could hardly breathe. It would take time for him to fully get over this. But at least, this time, the situation was much different. This time, he might just accept it.
When he opened his eyes, the crowd at first was silent, stunned. Then they erupted into applause, cheering Miwa's name and sharing incredulous looks. As the holograms faded away, Miwa walked forward with her arm raised for a handshake. Though she held an expression of modest triumph, the Pharaoh could sense the childlike disbelief and exhilaration underneath.
"Too bad," she said as she shook his hand, her expression genuinely sympathetic. "You Dueled well. Perhaps one day you'll even be able to match your brother."
A wry grin threatened to twitch its way onto the Pharaoh's lips, but he fought it down. It was helped by the thorny weight that had begun to settle in his chest, and he barely managed to keep his expression pleasant at Miwa's words.
"Yes, someday," he responded with a smile, his voice far too light and clipped. Amidst the cheering and clapping, however, it went unnoticed.
He needed a place to breathe…He struggled to subdue the pounding in his chest as he walked to the end of the stage. He was heading down the steps and wondering if he would be able to keep from grimacing at anyone in the crowd when he saw Bakura.
The sight of the white-haired Duelist was perhaps the only thing worth the entire situation, and in that instant the Pharaoh forgot the feeling of his loss, instead allowing relief to take its place. Bakura was the only one not cheering among the spectators, his expression instead unsmiling and thoughtful. The hunger was gone from his eyes, replaced with just the vaguest hint of disappointment. When the Pharaoh caught his gaze he gave a polite, but not-altogether pleasant smile, and vanished into the crowd.
A light, relieved chuckle escaped him, and he remarked to himself the irony that Grandpa was right after all. He'd have to apologize to the old man later...
"Isashi!"
The Pharaoh looked up to see Yugi and his friends running over to him. Nearly all of them held similar expressions of concern, so intense that the Pharaoh struggled not to laugh.
"Isashi! What happened, man?" Joey was the first to speak, looking at the Pharaoh as if he had somehow become suddenly ill.
"Something necessary," the Pharaoh replied, looking to Yugi, who smiled.
"Necessary...? You were gonna win fer sure, Isashi, I knew it! We all knew it! We thought you were gonna pull off one of yer miracles, like usual!"
"We've never known you to pass a turn like that, let alone throw the match," Tristan added.
Adopting confusion, the Pharaoh responded, "I didn't throw the match, I lost. Simple as that."
"Don't try to lie to us, Isashi, we could all see it," Téa said back, and the Pharaoh raised an eyebrow at her tone. "We know you were going to win in that one move, we could see it on your face. But at the last minute you changed your mind and decided not to play whatever card you'd drawn. So what happened?"
To their surprise, the Pharaoh chuckled. "You all are sharper than I seem to give you credit for, I'm sorry. Forgive me," he said gently, more directly to Téa, who seemed to forget her anger immediately in a blush. He looked back to Yugi. "Or perhaps I was simply that obvious?"
"I don't think so. It was a bit scary for a moment, but I think you pulled it off all right," his brother answered.
"You two are acting like you know something we don't," Tristan said, a note of irritated suspicion rising up. "What aren't you letting us in on?"
"Don't worry, we'll explain everything at home, I promise. For now, we're sorry we kept you out of it, but please be patient until the festival is over," Yugi said with a smile. As usual, his manner seemed to placate his friends, and the five of them began to head to the side where the booths were, where Yugi quickly dashed back to the stage to make his announcement for the rest of the event.
"All things considered, Isashi, you pulled off some pretty sweet moves," Joey commented as they sat on the benches. "Ya handled that Spirit Deck pretty well."
"Thank you, Joey," the Pharaoh replied. He withdrew the Deck from his Duel Disk and looked at it. "Perhaps I have finally found the final piece to my new life as Isashi Takahashi."
The three friends smiled. "Maybe so," Téa agreed.
"Um, Takahashi-san?"
All four looked up, and gave four different reactions. While Téa reddened angrily and Joey and Tristan shoved each other, whispering in glee, the Pharaoh stood and gave a short, uncertain smile to the five young, pretty, highschool girls currently gathered before him. They giggled and hid behind one another, until the first stepped forward, her shoes tapping the ground in nervousness.
"We, um…We just wanted to say too bad about the match, but you still Dueled really well," she said breathlessly, and the other four behind her nodded eagerly.
"I appreciate your support, thank you," the Pharaoh said politely. He nearly had to take a step back when the girls squealed and pressed forward, pens and paper in hand.
"Haha, what life ain't complete without a few gorgeous fangirls, am I right, Tristan?" Joey high-fived his friend, and they laughed at the Pharaoh's flustered attempts to deal with the girls one at a time.
That is, until Téa's hand found the back of Joey's head once again.
"OW! Téa, why just me?!"
Away from the crowds, away from the Duel, Bakura stormed towards the front gate. He didn't notice nor cared when people stared at him striding by, muttering furiously under his breath.
"Impossible. Impossible! That bastard, they tricked me…A complete and utter waste of time…The bastards…"
He passed by the table at the front gate, where there was noticeably less people than before. Upon seeing him, the girl from before, Chiriko, quickly stamped the hand of the person she was helping and stood from the table, dropping the stamp into the lap of the boy next to her. She ran as he rounded the corner out of sight and, not realizing the foul mood he was in, called out excitedly, "Um, Bakura-kun!"
The Spirit froze, and unseen to Chiriko, straightened his previously hunched shoulders, cracking his knuckles ominously. By the bowels of Ammit…
"What do you want?" he snapped as the girl finally caught up to him.
Though a little put off by the strength in his tone, Chiriko laced her fingers in eager anticipation. "W-well, I didn't get a chance earlier, but I just wanted to ask you…um…"
"I'm feeling rather tired, you know, and Father won't appreciate me returning home so late…" Bakura said, an unheard growl lacing his words.
"I know! But I might not get another chance, so…" When she trailed off into silence, Bakura finally whipped around to look at her.
The girl was so red she might have been sunburned. She refused to meet his gaze, instead staring intently at the ground. At first, he considered sending her soul to Hell right there if she didn't hurry up; but then she began to speak, and he halted.
"Umm…" she began, her voice faint. "Um…I was wondering…Um…If you're not too busy tomorrow…Would you like to go out for a coffee, maybe around lunchtime…?"
Bakura didn't answer right away. When the girl finally looked up, she saw his mouth had fallen open softly in surprise. As she watched, his features fell into a stony mask, and her stomach clenched in trepidation.
Then he smiled, and relief spread through her like a flood. She couldn't help a nervous grin in response to his, and trembled excitedly when he opened his mouth, readying her utmost thanks for when he would say 'Yes'—
"Pathetic."
The girl blinked, and her smile fell. In a small voice, she asked, "What?"
"Coffee? Really? With a loose sow like you?" Bakura chuckled, an icy, callous sound. "Don't make me laugh."
Cold, heavy shock was replacing her excitement now, and she suddenly wanted to get away, but she couldn't move, couldn't even blink.
"How many boys did it take for you to finally get to me, hmm?" he continued. "Two? Three? Maybe seven, one for each day of the last week?"
Her fingers slipped from their hold on one another, and she crossed her hands in front of her chest. If not for his words, he could have been complimenting her. It disturbed her how he could sound so casual, cheery even, while saying such horrible, horrible things…
"Unless, of course, you took them all the same night. Yes, I'd believe that one more." Grinning wider, Bakura took a step forward. Flinching, the girl leaned away, but couldn't move her legs, even as he leaned forward until his face was just an inch from hers.
"Stick to your dollar job at the red-light district, girl," he sneered softly. "Don't hope that anybody's going to take a real interest in you."
He withdrew, chuckling at her stricken expression. Turning on his heel, he strolled down the street and out of sight.
Chiriko fell to her knees. With a gasp, she took her first breath since he'd first spoken. Her hand found her mouth just as her stomach lurched, and she gagged for a few seconds before the heaves turned to sobs. Silently she lay there for twenty minutes, until the boy at the table, concerned at her absence, finally found her and shouted, horrified, for help.
A/N: I feel really, really bad for ending this chapter on such an awful note, but somehow I found it fitting, in a twisted way. Don't worry, if it's really bad I may update it later with something nicer to end on.
This chapter was unbelievably tricky to write, both for the organization of events and for the plot detail. Believe me, I have not just been goofing off this entire time; I worked on it all winter break, and whenever I could these past few months. I got lucky with finding out about Spirit cards and Knight cards, and they allowed me to actually have some material to write for the Duel. I didn't intend to have another Duel in this story at first, but I eventually decided it made the chapter more interesting.
Bakura has an appearance! I've always wanted to write him (Technically I already have—take a look at my other story 'Torture'! Warning: rated M for blood and violence—I was in kind of a sadistic mood…) but I never thought I'd put him in this story. With the way this chapter was turning out, though, I couldn't find anyone more perfect to fill in the plot point, and I'm pretty glad I was able to put him in. I don't think he'll have another major appearance—kind of like in the manga and anime series, he just sort of flickers in when he's needed and then fades into the background again, and unless I have another change of heart he's not really essential to this story. No offence to Bakura fans… In regards to whether or not Yami Bakura is actually able to make an appearance at this time (considering the dark spirit 'disappeared' between the Battle City and Millenium arc) as well as how Ryou could have gotten the Millennium Ring, I'm backing myself up with the manga, during which Ryou actually retrieved the Millennium Ring at the end of the Battle City arc; as everyone is running around the airship trying to find the exit before Seto blows up the island, Ryou wanders into Yugi's room, sees the Millennium Ring on the table, and picks it up.
On a last note, I've been a little concerned about whether I've been able to keep the characters canon. If you notice I've made the characters do or say something you wouldn't imagine them normally doing, please, please let me know, and I'll correct it.
Thank you so, so much for your patience. Now that I've reached my quota of 100 reviews, I won't be demanding them of you all anymore, but I'd be lying if I said they weren't nice to have. And, if I'm to be honest with myself, they're fuel for my writing fire. So do an author a kindness and review, if you could?