Chapter 16: The House of Three Truths

After the helicopter team left to find Kaiba, Duke walked back toward the lounge with Serenity, Tristan, and Mai. Anzu lagged along behind, but her mind was clearly occupied. Not that anyone was talking, anyway. Serenity's disappointment was obvious in the hunched curve of her shoulders and the way she walked delicately, like each footfall would hurt if it was too loud. She'd wanted to go with her brother.

And Duke felt a little terrible for how grateful he was that Yori had gone instead.

They'll be okay, he tried to say, but he couldn't get the words out. After everything that had happened in the tournament so far, it felt ludicrous to claim any certainty about anything. Truthfully, he had no idea what the future would hold, not for Joey trying to rescue Kaiba, not for the rest of them going back to Domino.

Mai broke the silence with her lilting voice. "Pardon, my friends, but I must leave you here for now. We will meet again for dinner, oui?"

She danced her fingers at everyone and then split off down a side passage.

The silence returned awkwardly.

"Well," Tristan finally said, sliding his hands into his pockets. "This has been . . . quite the tournament."

"You can say that again," Duke muttered.

Tristan shot him a crooked half-smile, like he was just glad somebody had engaged. "How long do you think it'll take us to get home?"

"Domino City, you mean? Well, our trip here took roughly twelve hours, but during the semifinal duels, we were traveling at a very low speed, for obvious reasons. Without the danger of anybody falling off the roof, we'll probably go faster. Eight hours maybe?"

Serenity had perked up a little as he spoke. She edged closer to him in the hallway. "They said we're not actually going to Domino."

Because of the monsters. That was the part she didn't say. The insanity left unspoken.

"We're going just down the coast," Duke said. "Probably won't affect the travel time much. If anything, it's a little closer."

"So we'll get there tonight." Tristan cocked his head, his expression pensive. "What do you think it'll look like?"

Nobody responded to that. Perhaps they were all thinking of the beach—of Alister and the gargoyle and the cyborgs.

Finally, Tristan spoke again, more quietly. "I hope my family's okay."

Duke's chest tightened. Selfishly, he'd never been more grateful to live in California, to know that at least his parents were safely removed from all this madness. He glanced at Serenity, but she shook her head. He remembered her saying her mom was staying with her grandparents outside the city, and Joey was . . . well, not in Domino.

"I don't know, man." It felt awful to say, but Duke couldn't offer anything better.

Tristan sighed.

"Do you wish you would have stayed home?" Serenity asked.

Duke wondered if she was asking herself the same question, and the tightness in his chest sank deeper to grip his heart. He couldn't blame her for wanting to skip out on monsters, obviously, but the thought of a world where he'd never met her, where he'd stayed home to go to his high school classes and smile fakely in his father's business meetings like he always did—that thought seemed unbearable now. He couldn't count the number of times he'd driven his convertible down the coast, looking out at the ocean and begging for the fresh air to bring him something new in life, something that finally woke him up.

It had. Her name was Serenity Wheeler. And meeting her was worth a few monsters.

"No," said Duke, even though the question hadn't been for him. Serenity turned, and he met her eyes, holding them with a smile. She bit her lip in the most adorable way.

"Me neither," said Tristan. "Guess that makes me crazy, but as I've said before, we're all mad here."

"What if we make a plan?" Serenity stopped at the entrance to the lounge, standing taller than she had since Joey's departure. "A plan for when we get back to Domino, I mean. I don't want to just sit here, afraid of what will happen or waiting to see what things look like. Tristan, you fought a monster on the beach, and you won."

Tristan puffed up, and Duke shoved away his flash of petty jealousy, made easier by the way Serenity's warm brown eyes sought his, capturing his heart with her earnest light.

"We proved our hypothesis for the science fair," she said, making him smile wryly. "Magic does exist. We've even experimented with it a little, claimed some firsthand knowledge and proven monsters can be beaten. Now it's time for a bigger project. If magic is loose in a city with people we love, what do we do about it?"

"Run and hide," Duke said dryly.

"Punch it in the face," said Tristan.

Serenity rolled her eyes. "Anzu, what—"

When she paused, Duke turned, only to find they'd lost Anzu somewhere along the way. She had a habit of running off like that.

"Well, she's either after Yuugi or Marik." Tristan shook his head. "Either way, let her do what she's gotta do. She knows where to find us. So what do we do about magic? None of us have a Millennium Item, and we don't have Alister's freaky necklace either, so unless Duke's earring can teleport . . ."

Duke fingered the dangling die self-consciously. "The only superpower here is making me look sexy."

Surprisingly, Serenity's cheeks pinked. He lowered his hand slowly, desperately wishing he could read her mind to see if she agreed with his sexy assessment.

But she was all business. "Both, I think. We do both. Hide and fight. The way we all got through this tournament was sticking together, so I think that's our first priority. Once we get to Domino, we need a place we can all be together, somewhere we can bring Tristan's family and Anzu's family and Yuugi's grandpa and my—" She faltered for a moment, swallowing. "My dad. Anyone we need."

"A home base." Tristan grinned. "I like it. One problem—my house certainly can't fit all those people. We've barely got four rooms, and that's counting the bathroom."

Serenity bit her lip again, torturing Duke's heart as he tried to focus on making plans rather than kissing his girlfriend. She said, "My dad and Joey just have a little apartment. I guess there's my grandparents' house, but it's far enough you have to take the train, which seems a little unreliable for gathering everyone."

"Maybe a warehouse?" Tristan winced as he suggested it. "Or maybe we just stay on the blimp, and then we get the bonus of annoying Kaiba."

Neither of them looked at Duke, which made sense, since he lived in California.

They had no idea.

"Or we can use my place," said Duke, enjoying a little satisfaction as their eyebrows shot up. "What? Kaiba's not the only rich businessman around here, remember? I've got a game shop in Domino that's at least halfway to a warehouse. It's got a full basement with an apartment, which means running water and electricity. Most of the space is storage, but we can kick out the inventory if we need."

"That's where you made Yuugi play your stupid dice game," said Tristan, snapping his fingers. "I remember now. You had that huge setup in the basement."

"Yes, thank you, Tristan." Duke winced.

Serenity grabbed his hand in both of hers, shooting heat up his arm. "This is perfect, Duke! Thank you!"

He curled his fingers around hers, squeezing. "I'm happy to help."

And he was happy. Most of his life, he'd felt like he was running on autopilot, following his father's outlined plan for him—grateful for it, too, because most kids didn't get the advantages Duke enjoyed. He'd been successful in school, successful in business, but none of that had really helped anyone but himself. This felt like a chance to do something that mattered, to help people other than himself.

Suddenly, he found himself grinning. "Okay, we've got a place. How about the rest of the plan?"

Serenity nodded toward the lounge interior. "Now we get to figure that out."

Anzu dragged her feet in going to see Marik. After they left the beach, she caught up with her friends—which was understandable, since Yuugi was finally back and Yori was awake and Joey was a champion. There was so much to talk about, and before she knew it, the friendly, familiar atmosphere had swallowed her whole, and when she blinked, she almost thought she was back at the game shop and Grandpa would pop up at any moment, asking if she wanted to stay for dinner.

So she played games and sang karaoke and laughed until Battle City felt like a strange dream she'd just woken from, already fading.

But then the news about Kaiba broke, and Yori left with Joey in a helicopter to find him. Yami, of course, had his attention on Yori, which meant Yuugi was occupied too. Battle City came creeping back in, reminding her of how much had changed in her life over just a few days, how much would never be the same.

And she found herself at Marik's door.

She should have knocked, but she just stood in the hallway, facing an empty gray slate and remembering how many times she'd come to this door since boarding the blimp the first time. She'd come with hope and with fear, and she wasn't sure which of those to feel now.

Just knock, she ordered herself. Stop being a baby.

Huffing, she squared her shoulders. Lifted her hand.

Then she dropped it. She adjusted her sleeveless shirt and her shorts, the bangles on her wrist and the hems of her thigh-high socks. She did not adjust her wrist brace, just tried very hard not to think about the way her skin itched beneath it. She fidgeted with her hair, chasing a strand she was certain had gone awry but couldn't see without a mirror. She looked down at her shoes and wondered if she should have worn a set of pink platforms instead of blue because her bangles were pink and she hadn't matched that to anything else in her outfit, so—

The door slid open.

Anzu let out a yeep! She jumped backward.

Marik scowled at her from the doorway. Her heart thundered in her chest, and despite herself, she searched his pale eyes, trying to see if it was really him inside or if a nightmare had returned. She told herself that was ridiculous—but she searched, just the same.

And she glanced down to be sure he wasn't holding the rod.

"Took you long enough," Marik grumbled. "I was about to hunt you down."

His response surprised her—the way he implied it was a coincidence he'd opened the door to find her lurking. She'd assumed he'd just sensed her in the hallway. But without the rod, he couldn't do that. Without the rod, he was just a normal person.

Wasn't he?

Marik stiffened under her scrutiny. He'd found his old shirt again, the sleeveless, hooded one in pale lavender that matched his eyes. It suited him more than when he'd gone around in just the black muscle shirt beneath. His sandy hair had grown frizzy, no doubt from the ocean humidity, and the Kohl makeup around his eyes had smudged, blurring the wings across his cheeks. He looked tired.

In contrast to the tension contouring his edges, his voice came out soft. Almost frail. "You're afraid of me, aren't you?"

Anzu's gut lurched, pushing her toward a quick denial. But she remembered standing with him in her mind, where the cracks of dishonesty always showed. He'd spoken to her there because he didn't trust her, because life had never given him a reason to trust anyone, and she wanted to change that. She wouldn't change it with lies, however well-intentioned.

"Yes," she said honestly. "You did things that scared me, even before the rod went . . . wacko. And Battle City was, like, one big blur of adrenaline, where everything happened so fast. Honestly, I'm still trying to catch up. And I'm trying to figure out what life looks like on the other side."

Slowly, Marik nodded. He looked like he wanted to speak, but he didn't.

Anzu planted her fists on her hips. "Well? Aren't you going to invite me in for a game? I owe you a lot of rounds of . . . something."

Very subtly, the corner of Marik's mouth twitched, but then the expression vanished, and in a detached, flat way, he said, "If you fear me, I would never expect—"

"—me to get over it without spending more time getting to know the real you. Yes, exactly. Glad we're on the same page." Anzu slid past him through the doorway, made possible as he shied away.

"Anzu—"

Marik's voice cut off abruptly, as if he thought he should call her something more formal. It changed something, to hear her name in his subtle accent, infused with the same warmth that always marked his smile. There was a warmth in Marik, seeping from behind his defenses. She'd known that, and it gave the Battle City dream some solidity to remember and witness it again.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then, very delicately, like he was handling a fledgling bird, Marik said, "Anzu, you owe me nothing."

She should have liked that answer—it spoke to gratitude and earnestness and a lack of manipulation. But it also spoke to no ties between them, and she didn't like that. Because even though she didn't know what life on the other side of Battle City looked like, she wouldn't have come back to Marik's door if she didn't want to find a place for him in it.

"I know, Marik," she said petulantly. Then, with more shyness than she intended, "But can't we pretend I owe you a hundred rounds of something?"

His pale eyes caught a spark, bringing some life back to his expression. His smirk did the rest.

He left his door open, as he had during their first meetings, and he took a wooden game board from where it had been wrapped in a purple cape, setting it on the small circular table and dividing up pieces. Anzu eased herself into a chair, looking around the room.

"Odion isn't here?" She hadn't thought to ask before, but she would have expected the brothers to be together after their heartfelt reunion.

"He was." Marik grunted, catching a spool-shaped piece as it rolled off the table. "The Frenchwoman came by to claim him."

Mai. Anzu smiled. She'd suspected there was a little spark there, and she was definitely going to tease Mai about it later. But just as she relaxed, she noticed something else:

"Your arm!" She half-rose from her chair, catching Marik's wrist.

He'd just started lining pieces up on her side of the table, and it had given her an up-close view of the bloody gash across his arm. He'd shifted one of his golden bands higher up to conceal it, which was why she'd forgotten about it, but movement and sweat had loosened the jewelry, slipping it back down to rest against the others banding his wrist and forearm. In its wake, the band had streaked red blood across his warm brown skin. The wound itself was clearly infected, with angry lines of red extending from it in all directions across his arm. Blood had clotted around the torn skin, but it oozed.

"Ignore it," Marik said, pulling free of her grasp.

"Like you clearly are?" She gaped. "You need a doctor! If that infection keeps spreading, you might lose your arm!"

"I deserve far worse."

Anzu swallowed. He didn't look at her, just continued setting up pieces until there were none left to distribute.

She wanted to smack him. Wanted to twist his ear like she would have done to her brothers. But something buckled inside her, holding her back. Marik had real trauma to deal with, all of it torn open in Battle City, bleeding and infected and far worse than the wound on his arm. Here in this moment, she didn't think rough handling was what he needed.

So she went against her instincts.

She sat back down, and she picked up one of the spool-shaped pieces he'd lined up for her, asking, "What do I do with this?"

He met her eyes again, and he nodded toward the board, where he'd just set one of his cone pieces in the upper-right corner. "Set it next to mine."

Under his instruction, she interspersed her pieces with his, filling the first column of squares. He explained the squares—called houses—and the movement of their pawns, which was directed by a toss of four sticks, depending on how many landed faceup. He showed her six houses on the board painted with hieroglyphs, all requiring special conditions to enter.

"First one with all their pieces in the afterlife wins," he said a bit breathlessly, excitement shining in his eyes.

For his sake, Anzu shoved aside her concern for one game, and she attacked with her most competitive spirit. She tossed sticks fiercely, and she taunted him whenever one of her pieces bumped one of his backwards on the board. Although it was possible to link pieces and form barricades to block her opponent, overall, the game depended more on luck than strategy, which was relaxing. Anzu let the numbers fall where they may, and when Marik had the first piece successfully off the board, she gave him a cry of outrage that left him grinning.

He won in the end, claiming his final piece while Anzu still had one left on the board, trapped in a stupid square that wouldn't let her leave without a roll of three.

"I've been robbed!" she declared in mock offense. "Of course the Egyptian game favors the Egyptian!"

"Hey," Marik protested with a laugh. "This is my first time playing too."

He leaned back in his chair, as much as the rigid seat would allow, holding one of his cone pieces up to the light and studying the swirls that patterned it. His laughter hung in the air, warm and bright, and Anzu thought now had to be the time. Now, while he was relaxed and happy and hopefully feeling okay about life.

"What's this square called again?" She pointed to the one still holding her last piece captive, even though she remembered the name.

Marik's gaze flickered in her direction. "The House of Three Truths."

"So I guess that means I owe you three truths."

He raised an eyebrow, lowering the piece he'd been studying and leaning forward against the table, as if eager to learn her secrets. Something about that shot a thrill through Anzu's spine, leaving her tingling.

She lifted one finger. "First, don't get too cocky, winner-boy, because there's ninety-nine more rounds to come, and I intend to win all of them."

He smirked, his pale eyes sparkling with amusement.

Anzu lifted a second finger to join the first. "Second, I'm taking you to a doctor, and I don't want to hear any protests."

His smirk fled in an instant, and he stiffened as if betrayed, so she rushed on to her third truth.

"Third"—this time, she grasped his hand—"I was here when you got this cut. I don't know if you remember it all, considering . . . the possession. But I remember. I was in danger, and you protected me. You got hurt to keep me safe. So as far as I'm concerned, what you deserve is a thank-you."

Even at the memory, her heart raced, recalling the madness of the other-Marik's expression, the way she couldn't twist out of his grip. The shock of seeing a dagger within the rod, a dagger pointed right at her.

But it didn't touch her. Because the real Marik broke through for just a moment, turning the dagger on himself, telling her to run.

Anzu released his hand, her fingers warmed by his touch. "Thank you, Marik. Now, come on. We're getting you cleaned up."

She stood, trying to wear a face of don't-argue-with-me even while she fully expected him to argue with her.

Maybe he was too tired.

Or maybe he trusted her just a little bit.

Either way, he stood without a word, and he followed her.

Note: I tried to upload this over a week ago and FFN just kept crashing each time I tried, so that was super annoying. I do post this story on AO3 if any of you have accounts there. It tends to be a little more reliable. But I'll keep posting here, even if I have to fight the system.