Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Lethally Hot ❯ The Outside World ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer and works cited: Toboe LoneWolf doesn't own YGO or the following references:
Draper, Allison S. Ebola. Epidemics: Deadly Diseases Throughout History. New Yor: The Rosen Publishing Group, Inc., 2002.
Peters, C.J. and Mark Olshaker. Virus Hunter: thirty years of battling hot viruses around the world. New York: Doublesday, 1997.
Preston, Richard. The Hot Zone. New York: Anchor Books, 1994.
Stetter, Cornelius. The Secret Medicine of the Pharaohs: Ancient Egyptian Healing. Carol Stream, IL: Edition Q, 1993.
…or any other snippit of stuff LoneWolf quotes from.

//…// is Yami to Yugi, /…/ is Yugi to Yami, <<…>> is Bakura to Ryou, <…> is Ryou to Bakura. (If that happens.) [#] is a footnote. Quotes from the above references will be italicized. Another note: this chapter has Ebola symptoms. If you know anything about Ebola, it is gross and most likely disturbing. This is why this fic is PG-13. Just a warning to you all.

With that done…onto chapter six!

Chapter 6: The Outside World

There was dead silence. No one spoke; each one was still trying to get a hang of what had just happened to them. In that all too brief span of time, they had seen Yami in his past, when he ruled the greatest civilization on earth. They had actually been a part of Yami, read his very thoughts, felt his duty to protect his people...

Tristan, Joey and Tea were either the most affected or the least affected by what they had just been through. Least, because it was just ancient history: dead, old, and forgotten. It was supposed to be distant, supposed to be left behind. But on the other hand, they were the most affected, because they had seen "living" history. Yami’s past was real; and now they couldn’t deny it in the back of their heads.

The past is never dead, not even is it past.

Yugi still had his hand upon the cold iron door. Finally, he had seen Yami’s ancient past. Yugi could actually be his other self, when Yami was at the height of his power and glory. This was his other’s self when he was alive, when Yami was pharaoh. This was the true Yami; the one Yugi had been searching for.

For Ryou, the memory had no adverse effects on him. It didn’t quite disturb him; he knew who Yami had been, and it didn’t really surprise him. Bakura, on the other hand…

Bakura had been back in his homeland. Ancient Egypt, where sands swept, the Nile ran and he was a free tomb robber, free to raid every blinking pharaoh’s tomb around. He had been back home. In his soul room, Bakura had also been a part of Yami’s memories. The thought that this was the pharaoh’s memory, his mortal enemy, revolted him. It was Him that cursed him to be in the Ring. Bakura hated his guts for that. But then again, for that brief moment in time, Bakura had been home. Bakura was split in two; he abhorred being so close to that ruler, detested the very thoughts. But he longed to return, hungered for more, to go back.

Ryou knew that feeling as well. They both did; and both denied that the other knew.

Seto Kaiba, CEO of KaibaCorp, millionaire, a Duel Monsters Champion, and perhaps the most powerful person in Domino City, was brought to his knees by this single memory.

Literally.

For a long time, he had tried to deny what Ishizu had said on that one night, long ago. She had said that he had once been a priest to the pharaoh, and that the pharaoh was Yugi. Or at least, Yugi’s other self. She had used that cursed magic of that Tauk of hers to make him witness a battle long ago.

Afterwards, Kaiba tried to deny it all. It was just a figment of his imagination; he hadn’t really seen all of that. Cheap hocus pocus, all of it. He was not a reincarnation of a priest; he was just Kaiba. Seto Kaiba. And for some time, Kaiba thought it worked. It was just a lie. It wasn’t real.

Human denial is very, very powerful.

But now, with the reality of Yami’s memory in front of him, Kaiba could not deny it any longer. He had seen Yami acknowledge his high priest Seto, had seen his ancient self serve the pharaoh. Kaiba had seen himself in the ancient garments, knowing that the person wearing them was indeed, his past self…

On his knees, Kaiba desperately tried to deny it. He closed his eyes and tried to erase the images of his past self, tried to forget it all. But that face kept coming back, that familiar face, the one that he knew for his own.

Shadi was the only one left in the same state of mind as he was before they experienced Yami’s memory. Still calm, collected, and sane. Still in control. Still understanding.

Joey’s question was still hanging in the air. Just what did happen?

"Each item holds part of the story. Each door holds a part of the memory of the pharaoh. As we search for the seven items, we will be part of the ancient chronicles."

Joey’s mouth was agape. "We gotta go through that again?"

Shadi nodded. "This was only the beginning of the tale."

This was a bit of a shock. Yugi turned around at this, Ryou jerked his head up (a reaction by Bakura), and Kaiba looked up from his, um, "subordinate" position.

Joey noticed this. And he couldn’t help it. "Hey Kaiba, why are you playing doggie?"

Kaiba looked back down at his hands. He didn’t exactly remember falling down into this position. Growling, he stood up and brushed his trench-coat of the dust from the floor. "I was not playing anything, Wheeler. The memory simply made me slip for a second."

"Sure didn’t look like it."

"Can you guys just stop?" Tea wearily asked. The Joey-Kaiba debate was getting tiring.

"We have only about nine and a half hours before it is too late to save the pharaoh."

Everyone turned back towards Shadi.

"So we have to find the other six memories before that?" Joey looked around. Corridors in every direction, doors everywhere, trick entrances – a heck of a maze. "That’s gonna take a looonngg time…"

Tristan looked at his watch. "Are we going to be here the whole time?"

Shadi cocked his head. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I’ve got a research paper to do, chemistry to study, Serenity to call, and sleep to catch. I don’t have time to waste."

Joey growled at the thought of Tristan romancing with his sister.

Shadi answered Tristan’s question. "We will stay here until our task is complete."

"What? What are my parents going to be thinking? I’m gonna be gone for nine hours?!?"

"Yes."

"Wait a second. We are going to be here for the next nine hours? What about the rest of the world? Have we like, disappeared?" Joey interrupted.

"Yes. Your mind, your consciousness is here. Your body, however, is temporarily, shall we say, ‘soulless.’ "

Joey looked at him in shock. "So you are saying that out there," Joey waved his hand, "our bodies are like mindless zombies?"

"That is correct."

Worry flitted across their faces. Somewhere out there, someone was going to find their slumped bodies. They began to worry about just who was going to find their mindless bodies.

Things were definitely going to be very…weird…out there…

* * * * *

"Honey? Tea dear? It’s time to go to bed." Mrs. Gardener peeked into her daughter’s room. "Tea?"

Tea did not respond. She looked as if she were napping on her table. Mrs. Gardener smiled. Fell asleep while doing homework again. She always told Tea to do it beforehand, but Tea wanted to check up on her friends.

"Tea, come on. Go to sleep on the bed, not the table." Mrs. Gardener walked over towards her daughter. "Tea?"

She shook her daughter’s shoulder. Tea’s head then rolled, and Mrs. Gardener saw wide-open, blank, blue, eyes. The eyes of a dead person. But this was her daughter…

Mrs. Gardener screamed.

* * * * *

"Joey?"

Serenity Wheel was a little worried about her big brother. He had come into the house muttering stuff about his friend Yugi and then went straight to his room and began pacing back and forth. She tried to help her brother, but Joey waved her off, saying that he didn’t want her to get involved.

But this was her older brother. She needed to be there for him, just like how he was there for her. Serenity cracked the door open and peeped.

Joey was slumped over on the ground, as if he had been stuck by lightning again. With a cry, Serenity rushed in and kneeled over her brother. His eyes were wide open, but the sparkle of life that Serenity loved about him was gone.

Serenity got down on her knees and cried over her brother. With her head over his chest, she could feel, ever so slightly, his great heart beating.

He was still alive.

* * * * *

"Son? It’s time to go to bed. You need to get a good night’s rest." Mr. Taylor spoke through his son Tristan’s door.

No response.

"Tristan?"

Nothing.

Confused at his son’s lack of reply, Mr. Taylor entered the room. Tristan was crumpled beside the bed, probably from falling off of it. Smiling, Mr. Taylor walked over towards his son to wake him and tell him how to properly sleep in a bed.

"Tristan, the idea of a bed is to—" Mr. Taylor stopped. His son, whose eyes were normally calm brown, were wide with astonishment.

Startled, Mr. Taylor looked down into foreign eyes. No, this couldn’t be. This was not his son…

"GRACE!!!!"

* * * * *

A doorbell buzzed in a quiet apartment. A tired, travel worn man wearing dusty clothing carried his equally worn bags up the stairs. He smiled, thinking that finally he would be able to see his son after five, long months. It had been too long.

He happily opened the door. "Ryou! I’m home!"

There was no rush of open arms. No familiar white head, no quiet smile.

"Ryou?"

He set down his bags and went to his son’s room. Maybe he was sleeping. It was late, after all.

The door was still open. Puzzled, he looked in.

His son was, well, it could have been called sitting. But his arms were hanging to his side, his head lolled over to the right, and body totally limp. Confused, Ryou’s father walked closer and turned to see Ryou’s face.

The Ring that he had given Ryou was glowing. And Ryou’s soft brown eyes were empty and dull.

His father’s own eyes widened. What had happened?…

* * * * *

"Big brother? Are you done yet? Can we play a game of chess? You promised!"

Little Mokuba Kaiba trotted towards his older brother’s office. It was actually past his bed-time, but Seto had promised…

"Seto? Are you done?"

Mokuba punched in the little code in the keypad and opened the door. "Ni-sama?"

His big brother had fallen asleep while working. Again. Mokuba giggled. This was the third time this week…

Mokuba walked towards the desk and poked Seto. Seto just snored, and continued to type a line of zzzzz’s on his laptop.

"Big brother?" Mokuba poked him again, in Seto’s ticklish spot. The one only Mokuba knew about.

No reaction.

Bewildered, Mokuba went over to the other side of the desk, where he could see Seto’s face. When Mokuba looked up into his brother’s face, he didn’t see the closed eyes of a normal person sleep. No, poor Mokuba saw his beloved brother with eyes wide open in shock and total surprise. But the shock didn’t go away; Seto’s eyes kept staring into some other place, never seeing the little boy standing before them.

Then the cry of a lost child split the night.

* * * * *

At Domino Hospital, it was complete and total chaos.

The media had found out about Yugi and the lethal virus that was residing within him. Naturally, they wanted to get a full-blown story to stick on the front page and talk about in the evening news. And the midnight news. And the morning news. News, in general. Big, big, big news.

It was definitely big, big news for everyone in the hospital.

Doctor Seimei, Yugi’s doctor, tried to keep things quiet. To let everyone know in Domino that one of their famous residents had contracted a deadly, lethal virus from an escaped monkey, which was still out on the run, would not assure people that things were in control.

Unfortunately, the media did not care about this.

Television crews barged through the hospital doors and began interviewing clueless people. When those clueless people learned that someone in the hospital was recently diagnosed with a very deadly virus that could kill them all very, very painfully, they freaked out. Mothers dragged their sniffing children right out the doors, stating that they did not want to risk their children. Some mothers ran back to the hospital and grabbed the nearest hospital volunteer, screaming "Where’s my children?" A few visitors turned their heels; not wanting to get close to the room that held the ancient predator. There were traffic jams everywhere, and just when the police had finally fixed the monkey fiasco there was a mass mob driving heading out of Domino. (No donut-break for them, that’s for sure.)

The Domino Post reporters also added to the chaos, asking doctors and nurses on how they felt about this "outbreak." Some doctors didn’t even know that Ebola was lurking within their hospital and stammered out some non-answer. Those that did were very careful not to use scary terms such as extreme amplification, explosive chain of lethal transmission, index case or crash and bleed. Most of the nurses were totally clueless that they were supposedly taking care of an Ebola infected person. And for the few volunteers that still remained – well, they quickly signed out.

The cameramen were recording everything, showing it live. They captured video clips of hysterical patients, bewildered doctors, and general disorder. The concept of a hospital as being an well-ordered institution where everything was under control was fast being eroded. Nurses holding lethally hot containers full of Yugi’s vomit ran around, trying to find where it was legal to put biohazardous material. Gurneys were going astray as everyone got out of their way, treating the nurses as disease carriers. (Which unfortunately, they were.) One patient, having heard what was going on and knew what Ebola stood for, ran out of the hospital with the IV still attached to his arm. As he ran out the doors he was yelling, "Run for your lives!"

All of this, caught on tape.

Each of us has a worst nightmare, the kind of fevered dream that wakes us up in a cold sweat…What if a deadly virus for which we have no treatment or cure explodes into the middle of a major city?

It also didn’t help with frantic family relationships. Family can always make things worse than they already are.

Ms. Motou and Yugi’s Grandpa had come straight to the hospital the moment they had heard that Yugi had gotten hurt. Telling them that their beloved son was now infected with Ebola and would most likely die was not a pleasant experience.

"What do you mean, Yugi’s going to die?"

Doctor Seimei rubbed his head. He was a quiet, tall man with gentle manners and a great amount of patience. "Ms. Motou, there is nothing we can do against the virus. The most up-to-date research on Ebola is being done in the United States, and we have just called them if there was any new experiments going on with Ebola. They have none. The most we can do to help Yugi is to give him supportive therapy."

"I thought Ebola was from Africa. This is Domino City in Japan, for Pete’s sake. How in the world could it have come over here?" Grandpa protested.

"I do not know that, sir. There were, however, cases in the United States and in Asia beforehand." Dr. Seimei kept his voice calm and detached. He was beginning to get a headache, and probably the first of many.

"You can’t do anything? Why can’t you use all of those antibiotics out there? Penicillin? "

Dr. Seimei sighed. "Antibiotics do not work on virus. This is a popular myth; contrary to belief, viruses are unaffected by antibiotics, which destroy bacteria only. Using antibiotics in an attempt to end a viral infection only helps create antibiotic resistant bacteria. This is why tuberculosis incidences are rising; more tuberculosis bacterium are resisting the antibiotics used to fight it. Yugi will not be helped in any way by antibiotics."

"There’s nothing?" Ms. Motou quivered. "Is there any chance he’ll…"

Dr. Seimei valiantly tried to still have hope. A doctor must never, ever, take away hope, however small it may be. "Madam, Ebola Sudan has a mortality rate of sixty percent. Ebola Zaire, ninety percent. And after seeing your son’s condition, the type of Ebola he has is leaning towards the ninety-percentile range. This new strain of Ebola -- Ebola Domino -- if you will, is likely to be very lethal. Symptoms for Ebola Zaire typically occur within three to four days; Yugi began showing symptoms only one day after infection." Dr. Seimei paused. "However, it is possible that he might pull through."

But what were Yugi’s chances? Essentially zero.

There was silence within the small office of Doctor Seimei. Ms. Motou grabbed on hold of that last sentence as if it were the last five centimeters of a lifeline. All mothers do; they never lose hope. But inwardly, Ms. Motou wailed; the cry of a mother, of a child hurt, in pain, almost lost. Grandpa despaired, now he had to lose his only grandson? He was just coming of age, just beginning to become a man, and now – now his life would be cut short?

"Can we see him, doctor? Please?" Ms. Motou begged. "He’s my only son, I want to see him, I have to see him—"

"Doctor Seimei! You’re needed in ER!" Nurse Kusuri burst into the room, her hair already askew, brown bangs flying, gown whirling and with a general sense of hysteria that everyone had caught.

Dr. Seimei rose, running his hand through his hair. "What is it?" He asked wearily, already walking out the door. It was going to be a long day. This was Domino Hospital, after all. Problems always arrive, whether they were needed or not.

"Five cases of unknown cause." Nurse Kusuri answered brusquely. "They are unconscious, unresponsive, but alive. No physical pain, brain activity normal. Doctor Antei and Doctor Keni have both looked at them, but can’t find anything wrong. They want your opinion."

"Alright. I’ll be there." Dr. Seimei turned back towards Ms. Motou and Grandpa. "You are excused." He then made a quick exit, going down the hallway towards ER. Nurse Kusuri promptly followed.

Ms. Motou and Grandpa both looked at each other, and shrugged. Might as well follow them…

They soon reached the doors of ER. Ms. Motou and Grandpa were both shocked to see some familiar faces. Yugi’s mom knew both Mr. and Mrs. Gardener very well, and also Mr. Taylor. To see them all here was shocking. Did their children also get infected with Ebola? Ms. Motou’s spirits fell. All of their children, struck down by this evil disease…

Coming closer, Grandpa also saw the little ones – Serenity Wheeler and Mokuba Kaiba. They were holding each other as two frightened children will do, giving comfort by both being afraid. His heart went out to them, and he moved towards them, hoping to give words of consolation that only an elder can do. But a man can do only so much.

"What’s wrong, little ones?"

Mokuba sobbed into Serenity’s vest. "Big brother’s hurt. He didn’t talk to me and he acted all funny and he didn’t even say anything to me—"

Serenity patted his head and shushed him. "It’s okay, Mokuba. Everything’s going to be alright." She turned her trusting eyes towards Grandpa. "Why are you here, Mr. Motou? Is something wrong with Yugi?"

Grandpa sighed. "Yes." There was no other way to say it. "He is infected with Ebola and will die soon."

"What?" Serenity covered her mouth. "Oh no…Joey never said…"

"But what about you, Serenity? How is Joey?"

"Joey? Oh." Serenity turned towards the closed ER doors. "Joey’s…in there." Both Mokuba and Serenity shook with silent sobs.

* * * * *

Inside the ER room, Dr. Seimei growled with frustration. What the heck was wrong with these people? No physical damage, reflexes were there, pulse was normal. Previous medical history said no sign of strange…whatever-this-was. Breathing, shallow but fine, blood pressure normal; brain activity as if sleeping. In fact, it was as if they really were sleeping, except for the strange unresponsive state they were in.

"You’re the expert on strange cases. First those two possessed teenagers, the woman with a cracked face, the burnt kids, that man in a coma, the kid with Ebola, and now this. So what is it, Seimei? Antei and I can’t find anything." Dr. Keni stared down at the face of Seto Kaiba. "What could possibly have hit them all, at the same time? There’s no connection at all between them, except their current state."

Dr. Antei looked at the monitor again. The little line, signifying the heart beat, was on its duty of beating blood for its master. Beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep… "What is wrong with him? With all of them? The body breathes, the heart beats, but they just won’t respond. It’s not a coma – they’re still responsive to external stimuli. It’s like he’s not even here anymore."

Staring down in the face of Ryou Bakura, Dr. Seimei had a flash of that kid’s grandfather. The one he had spoken to a few minutes before. There was something similar about that man and these five kids. Something…

It just clicked. There’s something about sleep deprivation, high amounts of stress, and danger that makes things just come together.

Dr. Seimei slowly shook his head. "That’s it. It’s as if ‘he’ isn’t here anymore – as if we are working with a mindless body. There’s no one ‘home.’ "

The other two doctors, and the nurses around them, stared at Dr. Seimei.

"Remember Mr. Motou? He was just like this – unresponsive, but alive. His grandson said that his soul had been stolen. Maybe this is the same case."

"Stealing souls?" Dr. Keni scoffed. "Also remember Seimei, that we all agreed that was preposterous and not true." He paused. "However, there are similarities in their symptoms. I propose that we give these five the same therapy as we did to Mr. Motou. Agreed?"

Dr. Antei and Dr. Seimei nodded. Dr. Keni began barking out orders. "Take these to rooms 101 to 105. Basic IV and care, darkened room."

A flurry of activity and the five cases were rushed out of ER and up to the indicated rooms. Before leaving ER to tell the family members what had happened, Dr. Seimei noted that Room 105 was directly overhead ICU 5, where Yugi Motou, the "kid with Ebola," was lying…

* * * * *

Everyone was crowded back in Dr. Seimei’s office again. Dr. Keni and Dr. Antei had to stay in ER since a new case had come in – some family had gotten into a car accident, apparently trying to leave Domino City the fastest way possible.

Dr. Seimei managed to get them back to his office with a minimum of fuss and television coverage, but now the family members were about to burst. Ms. Motou and Yugi’s grandfather also come along, being friends of the family.

"Doctor, is my big brother going to be okay?" The other famous Kaiba brother clutched Dr. Seimei’s leg.

"What about Joey?" Another young girl fearfully asked the man of authority. "Why was he like that? Where is he?"

"My son! My son Tristan!" A man, presumably the father to one of the cases, came right in front of Dr. Seimei. "What happened to him? Is he going to be all right?"

"What about my daughter? What happened to her?" Another two parents also asked.

"What happened to my son?" A fatigued, travel-weary man leaned against the white walls. Apparently, he had been traveling, only to see his son in this condition.

Dr. Seimei stifled the urge to rub his head. "Please, calm down. I will explain everything to you." He looked pointedly at some chairs. "Once you all sit down."

A little jumbling around, and everyone was seated and hanging onto Dr. Seimei’s next words. Dr. Seimei thought it was best to say that their children were simply in a coma, instead of their souls being stolen. Soul stealing is not a good subject to bring up about your children…

"Your children are all physically fine. However, we suspect they are in a coma."

"A coma?" Mr. Taylor repeated.

"Yes. I do not know how long they will be in that state, but I do not think that they’ll stay this way for very long. Two, three days."

"Just two or three days." The man in the brown clothing said again. He held onto that information. In three days, he’d be able to speak to his son. The one he hadn’t spoke to, talked to, been with for five long months…

"Doctor, can we see our daughter? Please?"

"Yes, please? I want to see my son, coma or no coma."

"I wanna see my big brother!"

"I need to see Joey. I just have to."

"Please, sir."

Dr. Seimei nodded to them all. "Yes, yes, you can all see your family. They’re in rooms 101 to 105, first floor."

"What about my son? I have to see him too!" Ms. Motou wailed.

"Miss Motou, we cannot allow you to put yourself at risk. This strain of Ebola may very well be airborne and can easily spread simply by breathing it in. If you somehow get infected with it, you too will die. We already have too many people at risk, simply by tending for your son. To let you in, if this strain is airborne, would be signing a death sentence."

He wondered if he was seeing a mutant form of Ebola – a kind of airborne Ebola flu. He shrank from the idea and tried to turn his mind away from it, for it was too awful to contemplate. You could no more imagine a season of Ebola flu than you could imagine a nuclear war.

"He’s my son! I can’t just leave him!"

"Can’t we just look through the windows or something?" Grandpa pleaded.

Dr. Seimei shook his head. "No glass at all in ICU. Too breakable." He walked towards the door and called out, "Nurse Kusuri?"

She poke her head through the doorway. "Yes?"

"Please take these people to rooms 101 to 105. They want to see the patients."

"Yes sir." Seven people stood up to leave the office. Two stoutly remained sitting in their seats, glaring at Dr. Seimei.

"Why can’t we see our son?" Ms. Motou argued. "You’re letting nurses take care of him; why can’t I?"

Dr. Seimei folded his hands. "Your son is infected with a lethal and highly infective virus. By hospital regulation, we cannot allow you to be put at risk. The personnel who are attending to your son know the dangers. They are trained to do it; it is their job, their calling. Already they are at more risk than I would like, because we do not have biological field suits to protect ourselves. We must make do with respirators, gowns and gloves.

Once there is an index case in a clinic, hospital, or even spare room of a private home, everyone in that area becomes a potential victim. Such tasks as feeding, tending to wounds, wiping up saliva or mucous, and emptying bedpans put caretakers at increased risk.

"But they are trained professionals, who know what they are doing. The only possible way I could allow you to meet with your son is if you were wearing a biological field suit. Since we do not store those, I cannot possibly allow you to—"

"Sir, in fact we do have biological field suits." Nurse Kusuri interrupted. "We just found them in our storage."

Dr. Seimei was startled. "What? How did we get them?"

"Apparently they are field biological field suits meant for the military, made by KaibaCorp when it was under Mr. Gozaboro Kaiba. After Mr. Seto Kaiba took over KaibaCorp, he did some major restructuring. Instead of focusing on the military, he turned towards the gaming industry. Military articles were given away. The biological field suits, meant for biochemical warfare, were given to us."

"I see." Everyone stared at Dr. Seimei. "How many suits do we have?"

"Seven, sir."

Complete silence. The focus of attention and judgement rested on Dr. Seimei. To be, or not to be…

"Fine. Mr. and Ms. Motou, I will allow you to see your son, given that you are properly suited up and are in there for no more than thirty minutes. I will accompany you in the room and instruct you on how to put on your suits."

Dr. Seimei rose and Ms Motou grabbed onto his hand. "Thank you Doctor Seimei! I can’t say how much this means to me, but thank you, thank you, thank you!" Dr. Seimei nodded as the mother wept with happiness.

Dr. Seimei looked down at his hand, which Ms. Motou still clasped. "If we may all go…"

* * * * *

Ms. Motou and Grandpa stood before the door of ICU 5. They were both suited up in bright orange biological field suits. The suit was made of thick rubber and had a clear, soft helmet, but still thin enough to hear each other if they spoke. Their hands were encased in more rubber, and they all wore bright yellow rubber boots. And even then every possible opening had been taped shut with very liberal amounts of brown sticky tape. Dr. Seimei was taking no chances. Their entire bodies were covered to make sure that no airborne hot agent got through. It was complete isolation from the outside world of microbes.

If a television cameraman had managed to get past security, nurses, and frightened patients, he probably would have caught a strange sight. There was a tall man opening the door of ICU 5, in what looked like a space suit that had been painted orange. Beside him was a woman whose face was both apprehensive and terrified. A shorter, older man was also in a space suit, but because of size differences, the suit sagged and hung off his body. But his weathered face was determined to face whatever it was that lurked within ICU 5. In a strange way, it looked as if there was a high profile military operation going on, with three brave souls daring to enter the mission.

Ms. Motou and Solomon entered the hot zone of ICU 5. It was deceptively calm, and quiet. The only sounds were Yami’s labored breathing and the radio softly playing some music. On the table was a forgotten tray of hospital food. Typical stuff – some mushy vegetables, a squishy sandwich, and some very disturbing tator tots shaped into a smiley face, as if trying to cheer the dying patient up. An IV was hooked up to a small human body lying silently on the hospital bed, looking as if he were laid out for a funeral. He did not notice that he had visitors.

"Yugi!" Ms. Motou cried out, and ran towards her son. He did not respond.

Dr. Seimei stood next to the door, not wanting to intrude. Grandpa slowly walked over. "Mary…be careful. He’s sick."

Yami could hear something. There were people here. But he was so tired, and the pain hurt so much. He was simultaneously burning up and freezing. With each beat of his failing heart, his poor head throbbed with black agony. Reality came and went, and he wasn’t sure of what was real and what were hallucinations.

"Yugi?"

Wait a second, that was his aibou’s name…was his hikari calling him?…No…

"Are you okay?"

No, he wasn’t…of course he wasn’t…he wanted to go to sleep, where it didn’t hurt…

"Let me try, Mary."

That voice was familiar too…he knew that voice…at least, he thought he did…

When Grandpa saw the person laying on the hospital bed, he knew that it was not truly Yugi. Grandpa knew that his grandson had another self, a pharaoh of Egypt. He was the one who had saved him so long ago. And just how that mysterious being saved Solomon, the same being protected and guided Solomon’s grandson. As his grandson grew up and learned about his other self, Grandpa could see his grandson emerge as the King of Games, as rightfully so. Even now, that mysterious other being was protecting Yugi by facing this tiny virus by himself. But the Pharaoh cannot do it alone. He must know that he had support in all ventures…

Bending down, Grandpa spoke into Yami’s ear. "Pharaoh, arise. You are not alone."

Someone was calling him…it was Simon…his faithful servant…he had come back…after all these years…

Yami’s eyes fluttered and slowly opened. He looked up into the face of Yugi’s worried mother…and Simon.

"Shimon…you’re back…"

"Yugi!"

That name recalled Yami back to the present. No, the voice hadn’t been Simon. It had been Yugi’s grandfather. And the woman looking down at him, with great care and concern, was Yugi’s mother. Yami felt a bit uncomfortable. She wasn’t his real mother; she was Yugi’s. Yami never did understand maternal instinct, even back in Egypt. His real mother had died when he had been a child. This was Yugi’s mother, looking down at him as if he really were her son. But he wasn’t.

"Mother…" Yami tried to lift up a hand up towards hers, but was too weak. He shivered, and coughed. Blood dribbled out of his mouth. Ms. Motou reached over to pat his head, when Yami rolled over and threw up into the biohazard container conveniently placed on the side of the bed. What came out was black, bloody, and contained bits of flesh. His tongue was bright red and bloody, and little pieces of the tongue were coming off.

The surface of the tongue turns brilliant red and then sloughs off, and is swallowed or spat out. It is said to be extraordinarily painful to lose the surface of one’s tongue. The tongue’s skin may be torn off during rushes of the black vomit. The back of the throat and the lining of the windpipe may also slough off, and the dead tissue slides down the windpipe into the lungs or is coughed up with sputum.

Yami rolled back onto the bed and closed his bloodshot eyes again. Simply doing that had taken more energy than he had to give. He had to concentrate simply on breathing. Every time he took a breath or made a tiny movement, he was lanced with red fire. His muscles spontaneously contracted and cramped, burning with pain. It wasn't like it was just his arm, or his leg, or his back. This was all over, like waves of pain, rolling and crashing, to wash over his body. It was as if he had a million tiny red-hot daggers were sticking into him. Even when he played shadow games, when pain was usually a part of the game, the pain was usually short and quick, like bolt of lightning. This pain was enduring and overwhelming, like a flood. The virus left nothing out, leaving no part of the body spared from torture. Yami screamed a mute cry for help, for release of the pain.

Seeing the blood trail down his cheek and onto the bed shocked Mary out of her denial. In her mind, she knew that Ebola was going to be painful. She knew that Yugi would probably going to be in a lot of pain. But she thought that Ebola was just like a really, really bad flu. Maybe a high fever, or a hacking cough, but nothing so…destructive, nothing that caused this amount of pain.

With the flu you’re miserable for a week and then you get better. But we were dealing with Ebola. With Ebola you’re miserable, then you’re worse, and then, oftentimes, you die.

He had to protect his aibou’s relatives. They couldn’t catch this; Yugi would die of depression if he knew that his mother was also infected. With his eyes still closed, Yami gasped out, "Stay…away. You…don’t…want to…get this." Every word took effort and pain, and tears of blood ran down his cheeks.

It was as if a boulder had been dropped into a child’s swimming pool. No mother ever wants to hear from their child, "stay away." Even less so if it was true…and this time, it was.

A mute cry of sorrow came from Mary’s lips. Tears ran down her face, where they collected at the bottom of her helmet. This was her nightmare coming to life. Her only child, dying in front of her eyes. She slipped one large, gloved, rubber hand into Yami’s. He could barely feel it; a small bit of comfort, even if it was meant for Yugi and not for him.

His hand was so limp and helpless, the skin white and pale, red spots growing and streaking along his face and arms, and everywhere else on his body. The person that lay in the hospital bed was not the Yugi she knew…the Yugi she knew and loved was always cheerful with a ready smile. This Yugi had a grimace on his face and vainly tried to withstand pain that she could not feel, nor ever understand.

They could not comprehend his suffering or reach him to give him comfort. … They didn’t know if he could see them, and they couldn’t tell what he saw or thought or felt behind the open eyes.

Yami flinched at her touch, and she quickly withdrew her hand. Looking down, a red bruise of where her glove had touched his hand was imprinted in blood. The slightest touch caused Yami pain.

Ebola attacks connective tissue with particular ferocity; it multiples in collagen, the chief constituent protein of the tissue that holds the organs together. (The seven Ebola proteins somehow chew up the body’s structural proteins.) In this way, collagen in the body turns to mush, and the underlying layers of skin die and liquefy. The skin bubbles up into a sea of white blisters mixed with red spots known as maculopapular rash. This rash has been liked to as tapioca pudding. … The red spots on the skin grow and spread and merge to become huge, spontaneous bruises, and the skin goes all soft and pulpy, and can tear off if it is touched with any kind of pressure.

She could not even touch her own son. She could not stroke his fevered forehead, could not kiss him goodnight, could not make the pain go away. Mary was helpless against the hungry predator.

Where everyone upstairs in Room 101 to 105 could lean over the hospital bed and stroke their relative’s head or hold their hand, she could not. The space suit, while preventing Ebola from getting in, was also leaving Mary out. To save herself from Ebola, she must avoid contact from the very son she wanted to touch. She could not give her dying son comfort; she could not help him along; could not do all of the things that mothers do.

She turned her helmeted face away. The tray of hospital food was still here, the disturbing tator tots lying there. Now they looked like little aliens, eyes slanted and mouth wryly grinning, as if laughing at her anguish.

Grandpa simply stood there, not knowing what to do. What could he do? Dreams of seeing his grandson grow and marry, get a job, have kids, were fading away. Solomon felt old, too old for his time. Burdened with years of waiting and hoping, and now his hopes were dashed to pieces. The only thing he could do was whisper, "Don’t give up, my Pharaoh. Never give in. Don’t let Yugi die."

Dr. Seimei, almost forgotten in the family drama, was standing in the corner, wishing that all would be well. The teenager that lay on the bed hadn’t even really lived yet; there was so much more ahead of him, so much more to do. He hated when a child was going to die, and he could do nothing to stop it. For all of his modern medical knowledge, he was powerless against this enemy. Four years in college, another four in medical school, five years of experience at this hospital, and yet he had nothing.

On the radio, a song was mournfully singing.

"Facing an endless tide
"Constantly pulled away from shore
"Feels like it’s sink or swim
"And I can’t fight anymore

Please, someone, help me, Yami asked within his mind. The pain is too much; by Ra it hurts. I can’t take this much longer, can only hold back the flood for so long. Aibou, please hurry; I cannot withstand the fire.

"Carry me
"Over the water
"Carry me
"Through the darkest night

Another tear found its way onto Mary’s cheek. She would if she could. She would take on her son’s pain, share his agony if it were possible to do so. But she couldn’t carry her son over the dangerous waters he was in. She had to stand on the shore and hold a small lantern in the darkness, hoping that he would come back to the land of the living.

"Carry me
"Over the water
"Safe to the other side."

Yami fell back into the world of his subconscious. There the pain could not find him, and he could rest in peace. There he could wallow in his past of ancient Egypt. Sometimes flashes of memory came by, when he ruled as pharaoh. He was strong then, ready to take on all challenges. This particular one was interesting. It was about the sickness…

Back in the real world, a little monitor beeped. Mary shook out of her misery.

"What was that?"

Dr. Seimei strode across the room and looked at the monitor. "Yugi is becoming dehydrated. A single IV is not enough. I’ll need to insert another one."

Going across the room, he opened up one of the cabinets and took out the necessary equipment. He walked over towards the very sick boy and attached the second IV onto the stand. Frowning, he inserted the needle into Yugi’s arm. Some blood seeped out around the needle, and oozed down Yugi’s arm. Blood is not supposed to come back out when an IV is inserted. This indicates a severe blood-clotting problem. Dr. Seimei stared down at the red trail. A trail leading back to the prey, and the hunter within.

"This is not good. Ebola is attacking fiercer than I thought."

"What?"

"Yugi should not begin hemorrhaging so soon. He is beginning to bleed…"

The illness is moving toward a state of general hemorrhage, or uncontrollable bleeding, which results in nosebleeds, bloodshot eyes, and sometimes even bleeding through the skin’s pores.

* * * * *

The bleeding has begun.

The clock is ticking, closer and closer.

Tick. Tock. Tick.

Drip. Drop. Drip.

Footnotes:

[1] = "The past is never dead, not even is it past." This was said by Rameses II himself. Very cool, considering that Yami was Egyptian and all. Kaiba should get a kick outta that…

[2] = ^^ Some of my favorite words. Extreme amplification – pretty much explained in chapter three. In essence, the virus is multiplying at a very, very fast rate. Explosive chain of lethal transmission – when a virus spreads, it’s like another link in the chain. The "explosive" part of it is because the virus spreads so fast it’s like a biological meltdown, killing a lot of people. ^^ What fun. ^^ Aka burning. Index case – the first link of the chain, the one who starts the explosive burning through the population. Yugi is the index case in this fic because he’s first one to get Ebola. (Not that he’ll intentionally kill anyone…Yugi would never do that…) Crash and bleed – military slang, where the person dies of shock with profuse hemorrhages. Or more plainly, the human virus bomb explodes. Quite literally. ^^ More fun. (Djanil: You’re just sick. Toboe LoneWolf: ^^ I am, aren’t I? But this is my other side.)

[3] = A coma is defined as a state of deep unconsciousness in which an individual is incapable of sensing or responding to external stimuli. Since the five cases had reflexes, they’re not in a coma. But they sure look like it…

[4] = Okay, just to lighten up your day before you read (or have already read) the next section. The biohazard container that Yami just threw up in is also, in the military, called an ice-cream container. I kid you not. It is also called a hatbox. I don’t know about you, but comparing vomit to ice cream is a little weird, don’t ya think?

(5) Um, I have absolutely no clue on how hospitals operate in Japan or even hospitals in general. Everything was based on books I’ve read, stuff I heard (heard, mind you, TV is practically foreign to me) and Encarta Reference.

(6) Hope I got the Japanese right. I don’t know if I spelled things correctly, I’m just taking them out of the English-Japanese dictionary I borrowed from the library. And the particular dictionary says that "dark" is "kurai," and "hikari" is "sunlight." I know like absolute zilch on Japanese. I don’t even know what "chibi" literally means. *sweatdrop* What does it mean, anyway?

(7) The song is called Carry Me by Scott Krippane. If anyone’s heard it. *sweatdrop*

Author's Endnotes:

Toboe LoneWolf: O.O That was one pain-filled chapter. Almost angsty, in a way. ^^ That was fun.

Yami: *twitch, twitch* Do you just like torturing me?!?

Toboe LoneWolf: ^^ I just love Ebola in general. Besides, usually it’s you who’s the hero and all that. Yugi usually gets shoved to the sidelines, or both of you do it together. But now Yugi gets to be the hero all by himself!

Yami: *twitch* Just great…

Djanil: Don’t mind her. If she had her way, she would infect the entire YGO cast.

Yami: O.O Crazy authoress…

Toboe LoneWolf: ^^ Aww, don’t feel too bad. Things just go downhill from here.

*winces* Either this was a really bad chapter I wrote, full of cliches and monotone happenings, or this was a really good chapter. I sure hope it was the former.

Yeah, so Yami really hurts in this chapter. ^^ Please don’t dump this fic because I’m hurting Yami a little too much. I’m just doing it a new way. *counts off fingers* Let’s see, I’ve seen him crippled, teased, have mental anguish, disappeared, die (usually quickly), and cursed…a few battles here and there, but nothing like Ebola. ^^ I’m so original…

Yami: I’m gonna die…

Toboe LoneWolf: Not yet you won’t. I’ve still got plans. Ebola isn’t finished with you yet. ^^ What fun I’m going to have…

Yami: *groans*

Toboe LoneWolf: So anyway. Chapter seven will return back to Yugi and Co in Yami’s soulroom. More sub-plot!!!

Oh, major half-give away here. From my research, there are three theories on how Ebola originated.

1. (From The Hot Zone) – Ebola is a new emerging virus from the rainforest. It is taking "revenge" on humans because we’ve been destroying the environment. Kind of like Mother Nature’s reaction.
2. (From Emerging Viruses: AIDS and Ebola) – Ebola is a man-created virus created by the government for biochemical warfare.
3. (From Ancient Medicine: Sorcery to Surgery and other resources) – Ebola is an ancient, natural disease.

So, with those three theories, what do you all think? I have my own theory, but I wanna know what’s yours are. My theory, at least for this fic, will show up next chapter. So what do you think it is – revenge, creation, or the past coming the haunt us?

Toboe LoneWolf: So till next time, everyone! Ebola will attack another one sometime soon!