Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Gin no Umi o Wataru ❯ Chapter 13

Chapter 13

9:04 pm
On the way home to Ryou's House

Ryou stared at the silently fuming Tristan. He squeezed his friend's hand as they pulled into his driveway. Feeling Tristan's hand twitch, Ryou let out his breath exasperated and released him. Firm fingers reached over and curled around his. Surprised, he looked up into dark chestnut eyes. //He's as bad about Seto as you are, my Bakura

//I do not have anything in common with that pointy headed ass.// Bakura growled.

//As you wish, pretty one.//

//RYOU!!!!//

Ryou smiled slightly at his other half exasperated tone, "Tristan, why are you so upset?"

"It... I don't like how this is going. I know... it's just that Kaiba seems to be very relaxed with rearranging everything to suit him. For example, this. He didn't ask if we wanted it, he just assigned it to us. He expects us to come to him beck and call. He... dictates stuff to us and tells us what we will be doing. And we obey. He may have been some high priest 5000 years ago but he isn't now!"

Ryou nodded, trying to open the car door. He stared at the bodyguard who stood next to the door, holding it for them. "No, he's a young man who is loyal, faithful, devoted to his family. A family that until recently consisted of himself and Mokuba. Mokuba, who is a child six years younger than Kaiba. A little brother who is content to listen and do as his brother says. He doesn't really know how to deal with people his age who are his equal. Everyone his age is either less knowledgeable or less organized. Except now, he has to work with us and he doesn't know how. Give him time to learn. He's not perfect and he's not the most knowledge one for once.

Tristan stared at him, half out of the car, "It's amazing."

"What?" Ryou wondered perplexed as he waited for Tristan to catch up.

"That you can be so forgiving... but I think that's one of the things I like most about you. I'm sorry to just rant. Hmmm maybe we should work on the project." Tristan stared at the house door opening. A guard stood there, bowing as he waited for them to enter. Beyond him was a long gold oak varnished table. Three matching straight back chairs sat on each side with one each at head and foot.

Ryou nodded, "Sure, for a little while. My mother was from England. We have tons of books on history and literature during that time. Father collected an extensive library. Mother used to read to me from them every night. I loved it, ancient tales of magic and mystery. Perhaps we can do a part on the literature of the time. If I remember we only have to study the history of our country during the time and there are many clues if you look for them in the stories and legends of the times."

Tristan smiled at him. "Sure thing." Tristan turned to the guard, "Who are you?"

//Who the damn is in our house?!//

"I am Mr. Tinatu. I am one of four guards assigned to young master Ryou. The four guards assigned to you, master Tristan, are on their way over. Since I know you have been at the hospital visiting with Master Joey, I took the liberty to prepare a meal. Please sit down, dinner is on the stove. I will now take my leave. Tinatu walked over to the front door, turning the lock on the knob, he closed the door behind him. A flash of light and two Ryou's stood there.

"Bakura."

"Pointy."

Ryou stared at the two of them and rolled his eyes. Moving his bookbag out of his way, he headed for the kitchen. "Let's eat first. Then Tristan and I will work on our project."

"I bet... where? In your bedroom?" Bakura growled and dropped into one of the chairs around the table.

Ryou came out holding three plates, precariously balanced. Tristan stepped forward and took two of them, eyes staring into warm chocolate brown eyes. "Let me help you, Ryou."

Bakura stared at them. Growling he stood up and reached for plate. His other half turned that sweet smile onto him. "Baku, this one is yours; I've given you more meat."

He took the plate and placed it on the table. Grabbing one of the plates, he held it up asking silently.

"That's Tristan's." Ryou took his plate from his friend and placed it next to Bakura's plate. He pulled out the seat on the other side of him, "Why don't you sit here."

Bakura pushed Tristan's plate towards the foot of the table. "How about here?"

Frowning, Ryou reached over and brought it to the proper seat. "Bakura." //You promised to behave. You said you had no problem with us working on the project, so what's wrong?//

//Why did you bring him back here!//

A light rose mantled Ryou's cheeks. //I didn't want to be alone.//

//I see.// Bakura stood up. "Go home, kelptl!"

//Bakura! I didn't mean it like that. Come back here!// Ryou leaned his head back.

"What's his problem?" Tristan shook his head and kept eating.

"What's your problem with Kaiba? It's all the same thing. You're both jealous. You're jealous of Seto because Joey wants to spend more time with him. Bakura is jealous of you because he thinks you want to spend time with me the way Joey spends time with Seto. And please don't be offended but I'm sick of both of you! Get over it. Joey and Seto are in love! Maybe it's lust, maybe after they have sex for a while they'll get over it. Perhaps you and Bakura should do the same!" Ryou leaned down and grabbed his bookbag. As he walked to the room, he called out, "Use one of the spare rooms."

Tristan stared as one of the two young men of his dreams walked away. Pissed, he takes the plates into the kitchen. Placing the plates in the refrigerator, he headed down the hall. Opening doors, exploring the small house. Soon he came upon the library. It seemed like a small piece of England in a house that was Japanese as anywhere. It was panel all in the same golden oak as the table. Hunter green, claret red, and ebony were present in leather couches and wingback chairs. The desk was ebony dark with a traditional green blotter. Above were two large hanging lights, turned off. In the library were scattered several small table, it was upon one sat a traditional green banker's lamp. It's dark wine green glass shade tilted down so the light was diffuse. It cast what little light it gave onto a claret leather wingback chair, a silver head peeking over the top of it. Silently, he walked up behind the chair and looked over the occupant's shoulder. A book lay opened on Bakura's lap. On it was a photograph of an ancient Egyptian tomb. In vertical lines were written several hieroglyphics. Tristan leaned forward, voice low, "You can read that?"

Bakura turned towards him, "Yes, it's a poem."

"What does it say?"

Bakura shut the book, holding his page with his thumb. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because you seem interested in it. And Ryou suggested that I try to ahhh find some common ground with you. So what are you reading?"

Bakura smirked, "Poetry, Ancient Poetry. Love Poetry. Gay Love Poetry. It's a tomb fragment of a healer in the palace, he was married to one of the clerks. Apparently the healer worked through a plague and saved many people but succumbed to the plague himself."

"Read me some?" Tristan asked quietly.

Bakura stared at him then gave a short nod. "Sit."

"Ntwh gkTh stnel."

Tristan rolled his eyes. "In this language please?"

"Nights I stay awake without hope
Lonely I walk the streets.
In front of your window
I spend my sad hours.

How I long to meet you again,
To find our old joy once more,
To give you my kisses again
So my black sadness will leave me

But there where you are in a strange place,
Who knows where you wander now?
I wonder if you still think of me."

Tristan moved closer. "Wow. Does it say who wrote it?"

"One of palace scribes no doubt. Why? Does it make you..." his tongue flickered out to moisten his pale lips as he leaned closer to the taller boy. "uncomfortable?"

Tristan leaned closer, his lips a breath away from Bakura, "No matter what you think, that's not why I'm so pissed off at Seto. He didn't make Joey gay, Joey always was."

Translucent lids blinked, and blinked again over dark burgundy orbs. Pale rose lips parted. Chuckling, Tristan leaned in to kiss Bakura softly. "He always was. Now me, on the other hand, I'm a very good at camouflage. Do you really want to know what Ryou told me to do?"

//Ryou! What the hell is this baka going on about?// "That pansy probably told you to spread your legs for me. That's in his nature. He's a pretty fuck, and he mews like a kitten!"

//Handle him yourself, Bakura!//

Tristan's hand came up to cup Bakura's cheek as the other flinched. Moving closer, he pressed the pale boy back into the chair. "Actually, he thinks you and I are fighting each other because we both want him. He told me that you and I should just `fuck' and get it over with. One small problem, you're just too cute to fuck and forget so I think you and I will be spending some time together. Maybe even spend some time sharing Ryou. Would you like that? You inside him, taking him hard, while I take you? Is that why Ryou told me to `fuck' you? Are you dreaming of me? Tell me, Baku-chan, how do you want me?" Pale lips met his and gave back as good as they got. Intensity increasing, he opened his mouth, his tongue flicking, tasting, begging entrance. Small sharp teeth bit into the firm flesh of Tristan's bottom lip. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. A cool breeze stung the bite mark as Bakura moved back. A drop of blood trickled it was over the sun darkened chin.

"Back off before I do more than just bite you." Amber feral eyes glared from pale lids. Lashes lost against the flesh.

"But you like my doing that, Bakura. You like it. I've noticed several... bites on Ryou. So I know it's not my exceptional body that makes you shudder. So what is it? Is it my interest in Ryou? Is that it? Ryou is... so pretty. He's delicate and soft; he's like all that is good in a woman with the body of man. Except you don't just want that, do you, Ba-ka-re? You sometimes want the strength, the hardness, the sheer presence of a man who knows he's a man. You want the jock, the wide shoulder, trim waist, muscles, and arrogance of a man. That's me. I can give you all that. This way you can have a soft, sweet, gentle man for you to protect and a strong, reliable man to be your friend and lover. Think about it." Tristan whispered as he licked Bakura's ear.

Bakura turned away, one hand against the other young man's chest. "Thinking is overrated."

A rich laugh drifted up as the taller boy fell backwards. Grinning, he grabbed Bakura's shirt as he fell, pulling him on top. Without a pause, lips met again. Teeth clashed, tongues dueled. Hands clenched and unclenched in hair. Bakura laughed drunkenly as he pulled back. His slim hands pushed Tristan against the plush hunter green carpet that blanketed the floor of the study. "Be a good boy and open those legs."

A smirk twisted on the other young man's face as he bucked up, the mound of his cloth covered cock brushed against the thin tan cloth of Bakura's slacks. Meeting Bakura's hardness with some of his own, he chuckled. "Make me, pretty boy. You're too used to Ryou just letting you take him, if you want me you will have to fight!"

A leg thrust up, twining around a mate, and a quick side thrust of the hip cause the positions to be reversed. Tristan looked down on Bakura, one hand gently caressing. "Tell me, you've no doubt seen Ryou's lips as they wrapped around your cock. His pale pale lips. Almost colorless thin lips, with just a blush of rose. You've seen them get thicker and redder as they sucked on you so sweetly. Your other self, your image. Tell me, is he a good cocksucker? Are you?"

"Many have asked, few actually know. But you want to know don't you? Perhaps you want to taste me? Is that what I'll make you do? I would love to see you on your knees. Ryou would watch, lying prettily on the bed. After you've lubed me up, I'll take him hard while I keep you shackled to the wall. You'd be a nice pet with proper training and a collar."

"If ever we do that, it will by mutual consent, beautiful. Why do you fight me? I'm offering you what you need. A strong lover to be bitten, fucked hard, bruise. You need me... and I need you. Ryou is as beautiful as he is fragile. We would break him in our passion, in our rough behavior. So let us satisfy each other." Tristan leaned down and bit Bakura's neck harshly. Teeth digging in deeper, white teeth being stained pink as oxygen rich red blood welled up. It rolled slowly over the translucent flesh until it changed the color of the pale blue shirt. Tristan growled as the blood dried and became tacky. He slowly shook his head, wiggling the teeth in the wound, breaking the slight bond that would have held them fast.

Creamy fingers held his head down as Bakura surged up. "You marked me, you damn bastard! And you will pay for it, oh yes you will..."

Tanned lips pressed against the flesh, sucking hard to leave a vivid purple mark. Fingers digging into a pale hip. Suddenly something pushed hard into Tristan's stomach, forcing him to lose his breath explosively. As it blew out from between his lips, he rolled off of Bakura. "Damn it."

"I don't appreciate being marked by anyone!" Bakura rolled over and grabbed both of Tristan's hand in his. "Until you can learn to keep your teeth to yourself, I think I'm going to have to tie you up."

The other boy laughed. "Very well, you're right, I should have asked permission. So here, since I am the better man, I'll ask your permission."

"For?"

Tristan laughed, bucking up and pressing his so very hard cock against Bakura's ass. "Not that, I'll ask your permission to get undressed."

"Why? I was thinking of showing you what I did with Noa's clothes." Tossing the ring around to his back, he pulled out his ever present knife, placing the tip against the collar of his captive's shirt. Grinning, he pressed the tip through the material until a well of blood rose up to stain the shirt. "I've also thought about your proposal. I'm not sure you're worth my time, we'll see..." Laughing, he drew the blade down, slicing through the shirt and cutting slightly into the flesh underneath. Then he moved over three inches and cut another line into the cloth. Cutting a third line, he used his teeth and one hand to knot them together. Swiftly he wrapped the strips around Tristan's wrists. "Now just two more for a gag."

"No. Cut me, slap me, bite me, but no gag. Not now, not ever. I'll do anything else for you."

Bakura stared into the young man's eyes, giving a short nod. Standing up, he pulled Tristan to his feet by his bound hands. "Stay. Move and you may lose something necessary."

Tristan stood. His shirt hanging half off his body. With swift sure cuts, Bakura cut up the back of the shirt, the razor sharp knift lightly cutting a thin line up his spine. Two shallow cuts along the sleeves and they dropped off leaving only tiny cuts already dripping slow trails of blood. A growl of tearing denim preceeded a cool draft on the tanned legs. A small drop of blood rolled down the leg to stain the white cotton socks. A leg thrust between Tristan's, almost knocking him off balance. The knife tip pressed in, close to the femoral artery. "I could kill you, so easily, right now. I knick this artery and you'll die before the ambulance can get here. So trust me, you don't want to move. Otherwise I may cut something else you like more."

Tristan shivered at the tone of Bakura's woods and spread his legs wider. As the last shreds of the jeans fell away, Bakura leaned forward. Small sharp teeth clamped into the firm flesh, burning as they penetrated the skin to the left and right of the femoral artery. The tiny canine teeth pricked the muscle beneath the flesh. Above, Tristan whimpered and struggled to stay upright. Soon the pain faded to a thumping dull pulse. Until Bakura opened his mouth wider, stretching the skin around those ivory needles. Pulling them out, he leaned back and stood up, his white shining flesh pressed against the warm brown of the young man who he was claiming. Smiling, teeth stained dark pink, viscous drops of dark red blood rolled over his lips and down his chin.

"Do this and you're mine, do you understand? I don't share."

"Except with Ryou, you'll share with me and Ryou won't you?" Chocolate eyes stared into luminous eyes the color of dried blood.

"What you and that little one do is none of my business as long as it doesn't interferes with my plans and as long as you realize you both belong to me. That means if I ever catch you with anyone else, you will regret it, truly."

"Fine."

Smirking the bat-winged haired young man jerked the other forward by his bound hands. Forced to his knees, Tristan stared up at the devilish one. In his hands, a bronze hilted blade was held before him. The blade itself shone with blue-gray sheen. Along the blade, light wavered over the many folds on the edge. The blade measured a foot and a half. Narrow, it came to a razor sharp point. The handle was simple flat bronze though it seemed to be writing on a small plaque. The starlight haired young man held the blade at a forty five degree angle and placed it before Tristan's lips. Brown eyes stared into maroon eyes, before lips pressed against the blade. A flicker of pink as the lips parted, breath dimming the sheen. The blade moved away, beckoning the lips to follow and follow they did. Pink tongue danced patterns all over the metal, not even losing rhythm when a jar disturbed the blade. A rasp of metal teeth and a slump, rustle of cloth. The blade danced away. Tristan whined.

"No... but don't worry, it's always with me. Right now, I need a little relief and you will give it to me." Thin fingers reached out and grabbed his chin.

Pulling him closer, Tristan noticed that Bakura now wore nothing except his shirt. The shirttail played peekaboo with his eyes. In a silky tangled nest of shimmering hair, dancing with every move he made was a long slim pale column of flesh. Leaning forward, he buried his nose in the almost invisible patch, breathing deeply. Pressure on the crown of his head forced him to go lower, lips dancing and tasting until they reached the leaking tip. His tongue rolled around the head, wiping off the slightly sweet precome that clung to it. The taste exploded in his mouth, eyes closing, he opened his lips and took in as much as he could. The hand on his head clenched, a fist wrenched his hair. A low moan sounded above him; giving a shake of his head, he concentrated on tasting, licking, pleasing Bakura. Laughing slightly as he looked up at the normally cruel face lost in pleasure, he saw his lover's knees bend slightly. Realizing that the laughter caused some very... interesting reactions, he started to hum. He kept sucking, moving back and forth slowly. Suddenly the soft hair at the base of Bakura's cock tickled his nose. Realizing he had all of Bakura in his mouth, he grabbed Bakura's hips. Something was tugging at him. With a cry he let go, whining. Eyes traveled up to meet burning maroon eyes.

"It's wet enough. Now suck my fingers. How wet you get them will determine how much lube you get." Bakura held his hand out before Tristan's lips.

Tristan nodded, lips parting, he took the middle three fingers inside his mouth. Tongue dancing, twisting, twining. Moaning and frantic, he sucked and soaked those fingers.

"By the one who devours the soul, you are very good at this. Are you sure you haven't practiced this, say with... Joey?"

Words muffled slightly by the fingers, he replied, "No one but you. I have dreamed of this but no, I haven't practiced with anyone."

"Then this is all natural talent, one you will not be sharing without anyone else. Enjoy. Now on your hands and knees."

Bakura pulled up on the slim hips and two fingers pressed against the tight ring. Not too gently, they pressed in, moving back and forth, opening the brown haired boy. He smiled as the sable haired young man grunted and whimpered. He struggled to stay upright, his muscles flexing. The pressure reopened the scabbed over cut down his arms. Pressing in the third of the wet fingers in, he pressed hard, seeking a small nut sized lump. Brushing his fingers over it with slight pressure, he felt Tristan jerk forward as his passage clenched the slim fingers hard. "Good boy."

Tristan struggled to keep himself upright on his bound hands. Small trails of blood from the reopened lines crawled down his arm, staining and slicking up the ragged shirt tied around his wrists. He felt the blunt head of Bakura's cock pressing in. He moaned as it filled him, pushing back harder. A low groan whispered in his ear, a hand tightened around his waist, the other hand grasped his hair, pulling his head back. Teeth grazed over his neck. Sinking into his flesh, sharp needle teeth broke through. Blood flowed freely, the thin streams ran down, crossing each other. Tristan relaxed as he grew empty, then full, then empty, full, empty, full, empty, full, empty. Sweat and tears ran down his face as he shook.

Bakura hissed and snapped Tristan's head back forcefully as white haze invaded his sight. The other responded by stiffening, legs and arms rigid, head back, eyes rolling up before he collapsed taking his oh so cruel, oh so wonderful lover down with him. Bakura panted, harshly. Grabbing the hilt of his knife, he stretched up and placed the tip between the flesh and the cloth on one wrist. A flick of a pale pink wrist and the cloth fell away.

"Don't move."

"Will it always be like this?" Tristan shook underneath his Bakura.

"Probably not. Ryou will bitch if it is."

"Hmmmm... thank you."

"Go to sleep." Bakura eyes' closed as he lay on Tristan's back.

"Ok... hey `kura?"

"What?!"

"How come you have a separate body? Not that I mind. You're beautiful."

"Because the ring. I didn't get my soul trapped into an item like the others. The ring `ate' me. It left some part of me. That's what Yami buried."

"Ahhh..." Tristan quieted and his breathing slowed. After a few moments, he twitched. A growl from the young man sleeping on him caused him to smile. "Kura?"

"WHAT?!"

"Tell me another poem."

Bakura sighed and poked Tristan with his knife before moving to whisper to him.

"In the golden light
of the hottest day
I bathe you in asses milk
Your flesh sweetens the taste
Your skin glows
I can not wait to see you
In the light of the full moon."

Tristan smiled, his breathing slowed and he fell asleep.

* * *

Ryou yawned, stretching out over the bed. He turned over to snuggle up to Bakura... except Bakura wasn't there. He probably fell asleep in the library again. Grabbing a blanket, he headed towards the library. Smiling, he pushed the door open silently. Stopping suddenly, he looked at the tableau in front of him. Tables and chairs had been pushed out of the way and over turned. A book of Linear A tomb writings was splayed on the floor and in the middle of all this havoc lay Bakura and Tristan entwined with each other. Bakura had bites and hickeys down his front while Tristan's chest was criss crossed by long scratches long since filled with blood and puffy. Trying not to laugh, he covered the two of them with the blanket and curled up on the couch.

* * *

1:30 pm
Rien, France

A young girl stared through the blue tinted plate glass window. There it was. The brand new Kaiba Corp. VR game, "Legendary Heroes". And her best friend, André was just getting into the pod. She tapped on the window and waved to him. They couldn't believe that Kaiba had broken with tradition and actually let the rest of the world have the game at the same time as he released it in Japan. She shook her head, multicolored braids clicking their rainbow beads. She pulled out her purse and checked her money. Frowning, she looked back forlornly and sighed. André smiled and waved at her to come in. Shrugging she shook her head. No way she could afford it and dinner and the metro home. Why the hell did her parents have to die? Why did she have to get sent to her grandmother in France. If she had stayed with her cousins in Domino, she would have been able to get in on the bottom floor, she could have been a beta tester. But no... a damn drunk had to hit her parents. Mr. Kaiba had been so kind at the funeral, even offering to set her up in a private school if she wanted to, but no! Grandmother didn't like him and now she... one of the greatest gamesmen in the world was stuck in Rien rather than in Domino, working for Kaiba like her parents used to.

With a last sigh, she turned waved for him to go on and took off her oversized sunglasses. Smiling in once more, Kasumi winked one beautiful dark blue eye and walked off.

7:52 pm
A dorm room in upper New York

Téa waved to her friends and pushed open her door. She liked them but she missed her friends in Domino. She flopped onto her bed, and pulled out the thick envelope. The border was striped in red and blue. The address was printed in large block letters but the return address was in graceful kanji and the postmark was from Japan. Smiling she opened it. A pack of bunch of pictures fell out and over the bed. Some even slid to the floor. She picked them up. Several were single or duo shots of the gang but there was one very professional looking picture of all of them, even Kaiba, Mokuba, and Ji-chan. Seto stood a little off to the side, but he was staring at Joey.

Shrugging, she unfolded the letter.

Dear Téa,

We all really miss you but so many things have been happening here. I know you're having fun. I can't wait until your next letter. Let's see... well since Yami and I have decided to talk more, we're even closer. The shop is doing great business, so Ji-chan is thinking of going to China for a conference and leaving us to run the shop.

I think the only thing that's really been odd around here lately is that Joey is remembering dreams from a past life. Unfortunately, an enemy from then may attack us. See it all started when Joey...

//Kaiba and Joey?!What is going on over there!//

* * *

9:35 pm
Tanaka Maeda Rehabilitation Clinic

Wheeler shuddered and let his head fall back to the scratchy pillow. He could feel Iwata's short hair rubbing against his chest. He could feel Iwata's pale thin fingers twisting in his hair. Wheeler stared down at the pale flesh under the dark brown hair. The soft pale flesh glowing at the top of his head. It would be so easy to just drive something through the soft skull. His hand clenched, the muscles in his arms flexing against the thick leather bands.

"You're making a fist." Iwata whispered, his eyes still closed.

"Yes, I... wish I could touch you." Wheeler smiled down at him, willing his eyes to soften.

"As do I. However, those bands have an alarm rigged to them, once I figure out how to disable it without tripping the alarm; I will release you, my angel. I swear it."

"I know... Tell me, have you heard any news about my son?"

"He's awake, however because of the repeated attacks. They are going to move into Kaiba Corp. building downtown. Michael, you will be released soon. Now that your addiction to alcohol is fading, we really have no reason to keep you here. His orders are explicit, that we need to keep you safe. You are important to Joey, therefore you are important to him. He thinks of you as a mere attachment to Joey, and you aren't. You are an angel. My love, I have to leave soon... let me pleasure you once more before I have to go." Iwata lifted himself up, reaching to caress Wheeler's chest.

Michael Wheeler shuddered and grinned slowly as he struggled not to clench the sheets in his fists. //Damn Freak!You Damn Faggot Freak!//

* * *

Time Irrelevant
The Internet

Noa turned around, the warm liquid of the Net surrounding him. He smiled at the lithe young man ahead of him. Laughing silently, he splashed a small wave towards Nkosi. Unfortunately, Nkosi had the idea to turn around and got a face full of warm data. The Egyptian prince sputtered as he went under before bobbing up, eyes twinkling.

"You... brat!" Nkosi tackled his friend.

The two splashed and dunked each other for a while, before the waves they created washed them up onto a rocky shore. Noa lay back on the uneven ground, somehow the rocks not bothering him much. He closes him eyes, feeling strangely happy. Nkosi was lying beside him, arm around his waist, their heads barely touching. For a moment, Noa didn't care if they did anything else, at least not for a little while.

After what seemed like hours, Nkosi moved. "Where are we trying to reach? What are we going to do?"

"Where... look up. See it?" Noa pointed up, without even opening his eyes. Nkosi's eyes followed his finger. Up high, on what looked to be a rocky finger projecting over the sea was a house. An eight sided tradition Japanese paper house. The sloping roof was of unglazed brilliantly red fired clay tiles. "Up there is one home of our enemy. That represents Kaiba Corp. A small part of it. For all of Seto's innovations and improvements, despite moving away from the weapons industry and back to a very Japanese industry. Games, strategy, intruigue. He's very 21st century but he is also very traditional. This is but a small part of Kaiba Corp. This is where the research into the VR Games is located, Legendary Heroes. It takes place in what we called the Mythological Age but this is how we thought japan was back then. With gods and kami all around." Noa held up the crystal orb. "This is the information on Legendary Heroes that Gatchaman collected. Including the master list of the codes. We are going to suffer, and so many will be calling for his blood."

Nkosi frowned, "But I thought you already had that."

Noa shook his head. "No, I was happy that Gatchaman had a copy of the source code. That's the program that tells the VR pod what to do, but I see he also has the master list of codes. Each VR pod is encoded with a 128 numbers/letters combination. They can tell the difference between upper case and lower case. They also include 10 numbers and 30 symbols. All together 92 different things, let's call them keys, can be in each of the 128 spots. And there is no limit to how many times a key can be repeated. Imagine it Nkosi. Imagine a vault locked with 128 eyes. Each key can be in any of 92 forms. Do you realize how long it would take to open such a lock?"

Nkosi's eyes widened, "It would take forever!"

"Not with this list, see each VR pod has its own 128 key lock. So this master list has those listed. Now usually such lists are encoded and kept in different locations in unequal parts but it appears that Gatchaman had already decoded and patched it together for us. We must find him or her and thank them. We can now get into each VR pod. A 128 key lock is not as daunting when you have the pattern of the keys right there! "

Nkosi stared into the teen's eyes and started laughing. "You are so..."

Noa laughed and hugged Nkosi, "Yes, I am." Placing one hand on Nkosi's cheek, he turned his friend's face toward him and kissed him softly. "Perhaps... once we win, we can find a way to... be happy."

"Yes."

* * *

11:39 PM

Seto sat in his chair, leaning back. //Damn Joey!//

//Not truly I believe, for you do love him, do you not?//

//Yes, I *think*I do.//

//Think?//

//Sometimes I can't tell if it's your feelings for Jahi or my feelings for Joey.//

//Ahhh, well then, answer me this since you are so big with questions today. Do you understand that our souls are one? That what I am is the memory of the lifetime that *you*lived? Do you understand that the millennium scales merely sealed this portion of your soul off?//

//Yes, you've belabored that point!//

//Then perhaps we should journey inside to your other lives. Joey has already seen some of them. In each, your soul found his soul, no matter what form it was in. Male, Female. Across colors and genders you have joined with him. For the sake of our love... Jahi crossed oceans to be with me. He said he sailed for years looking for what he needed, and now with me, he had found it. Joey himself relaxes in your arms, despite the evils his father has done to him. He relaxes in your arms. He loves you, even risked his life not understanding that it would hurt you to spare you hurt. You are so seemingly cold, my other self. So cold that Joey honestly thinks you may care for him but Mokuba is much more important to you than he is. So he strove to protect him, now he thinks you believe him to be a fool to risk himself for someone who doesn't care for him! And that scene in the garage... ask yourself why you are so angry at him. Then tell him about it.//

//You are too arrogant.//

//I am you.// Seferet faded out quickly, the sound of a lock locking sounded throlugh is skull.

//Damn ghost!//

Seto frowned and stared at the desk. When the phone rang, he tapped the speaker. "Kisigawa, is there any way for someone to invade, harm, or take over the mind of a person using our VR pods?"

"Mr. Kaiba? No, I don't believe so. We tried to prevent it. Especially after what happened with the Big Five. That particular route is blocked by a revolving 512 key strand. That key exists in only two places. Your private vault has one copy, whole and unbroken. The only other copy is broken into uneven parts and kept by nine others and myself. Each of us secured it in a secret place and we don't tell each other about it. In fact, we called in forty-nine employees at random and gave them each a piece of paper. No records were kept of who was called. Each of them were given slips of paper of odd shapes and neutral colors. I don't even know who has the other parts."

"I see... in any case, Kisigawa, I want you to meet with Dr. Hara at headquarters tomorrow. He may think of something from a medical standpoint that we may not."

"Yes, sir."

"Goodbye." Seto cut off the phone and leaned back. //So ghost, what should I do about Joey?//

* * *

2:17 PM
Inside Legendary Heroes
Rien, France

André sat down on the log and leaned back. The sun felt wonderfully warm. Shrugging out of his shirt, he fell into the leaves. //Damn, I would not mind just being here to relax, never mind to play Duel Monsters!//

A sudden noise and a beautiful dark haired princess ran up to him. Her hair fell in soft bangs over her rich blue eyes. She jerked back when she saw him, then noticed his hero gear. Running up, she hugged him.

//She is gorgeous, almost as beautiful as my best friend, Kasumi. You even have her eyes.//

"Oh brave hero," Her soft cultured voice whispered softly, "Please, I am the Princess Adina and I need help."

"Oh course, mon princess. I will be glad to help you, what must I do?"

"We must stop a war but first we need to make it through the labyrinth. Please... I know the way."

"Then lead on, beautiful one." André smiled and followed her. //Mon Dieu, she looks so much like Kasumi, but not as good a handful!//