Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Psyche ❯ Losses ( Chapter 7 )

Disclaimer: Yugi-oh is the property of Kazuki Takahashi, who is a genius. Everything that isn't his or someone else's is mine.

 

Author's Note: This part is more than a bit Yuai centered. I do apologize, but I need my OC to get into place so that she can do her job at helping the plot along. I promise, she is not going to become a obnoxious Mary Sue! She is not going to take over the story! She has a part to play and for this section, she's got to take center stage so she can perform her role. She will then retire from center stage and just enable certain things that have to happen to happen. (I do admit however that the part about her looks is me giggling at Mary Sues in general. I couldn't resist. The temptation was too much…had to poke fun at it…I just had to!) Gomen, gomen. *authoress points* But I gave you a really neat Bakura moment! *slinks off apologizing and muttering about pushy OCs*

 

This is the third part of the Chrysalis series. You will enjoy this more if you read Chrysalis and Emergence first. You will get lost!

 

Psyche

Chapter Seven: Losses

~*~*~*

Yuai

~*~*~*

“Good morning Sunshine.” A snarly, grumpy voice growled next to her. Yuai jumped, only to find that she was weighed down by what seemed to be a couple hundred yards of poofy white cloth. She swam up through the many layers of delicate as a cloud, white veils; exquisitely beautiful shawls of immaculate, pristine whiteness; and whisper soft, pure, floatingly light as down fripperies. To her horror she found that most of these items where now attached to her in the form of a fairytale like dress of nearly blinding radiance. It took awhile but she managed to finally sit.

 

“Who the hell put me in this?!” It took effort, but she managed to wave her hand at the cascades of dreamily soft, jewel encrusted silks that still pinned her firmly down to the bed she was laying on.

 

The grumpy voice gave a snort of laughter, “Courtiers. With you taking a long vacation, they decided to play dress up. Guess who got voted in as their dolly?”

 

Yuai tugged, pulled and hauled the dress so she could sit on the side of the bed and look around, irritably batting away breezy white veils that spilled around her like sparkling mist. The room was, like the dress, a creation of white and light. The room was basically the size of the gymnasium at school, with white marble walls, and delicate columns that spiraled upwards a dizzying height to a ceiling of cerulean blue. Across the white marble floor an entire wall was made of floor to ceiling windows made up of hundreds of squares of crystal that seemed determined to pour as much light in the room as their little crystalline selves could manage. She was sitting in the center of the room on a raised bed that had an eerie resemblance to a funeral platform. The kind they put dead dignitaries on so that the masses could solemnly file by, nodding their heads and saying trite things. The only dark spot in the sea of light and pristine loveliness, was sitting on the only other piece of furniture in the room.

 

He was smiling sarcastically at her, “Have a good trip?”

 

“Excuse me. Where the hell am I? I was sitting in the park with Mr. Kallon and now I'm…” She wanted to gesture to the overpoweringly lovely room, but the gems, peals and stitching that weighed down the cuffs of her dress made the movement prohibitively difficult. “…in Heaven with a surly ….” She eyed him a little more closely. “Magician of Black Chaos?”

 

He nodded sagely, though still managing to lace in a great deal of snide mockery, “Your brains are scrambled. Must be having to spend the last five thousand years in the stimulating company of humans.”

 

She eyed his smug expression, “This isn't how I pictured my afterlife.”

“Well dearest, you aren't precisely dead.” Mr. Kallon walked into the room, shrugging into a long grey purple cassock like garment. “You just aren't living the life you were living a few moments ago.”

 

“Masochist.” The Magician of Black Chaos nodded his head to him in greeting. “You should have stayed there for at least a century till she calms down.”

 

Mr. Kallon smiled serenely. “I'm sure she'll be more than happy, just as soon as we release her from that dress and she gets her memory back.”

 

“Don't count on it Mr-This-Won't-Hurt-A-Bit.” Yuai hauled at the volumously ethereal skirts and trains of her dress, trying not to cut herself on the bright diamonds that encrusted the eye blindingly white overdress. It took her a few tries, but she managed to stand up. “That hurt!”

 

He looked away, “Well, yes. I am truly sorry about that dearest, but it was necessary. Would you have used the Shadow Knife if you had known it would hurt like that?”

 

“Just wait till I get out of this dress and I'll give you my answer.” Yuai, pulling, hauling and tugging for all her worth managed to take a small step forward.

 

“Just remember, when your done killing him.” The Magician of Black Chaos smiled nastily, “it's your turn to hold court.”

 

~*~*~*

Kaiba, Mokuba, Yami, Yugi, Honda, etc.

~*~*~*

 

The sky was now pitch dark outside the car window. The mountain's vistas now hidden behind night's black cloak. It would take at least five more hours to reach the convention center and three hours after that to wind through the back roads into the remote place Jo was being held.

 

The information that Kado had obtained indicated that the man who had Jo was the caretaker of a summer camp, nearly a hundred and thirty miles from the convention center that Jonouchi disappeared out of, so Kaiba found himself stuck in a limo with a group of bouncy, excited…acquaintances for the next eight hours. Okay, maybe he could say… close acquaintances. Close as in nearly sitting on top of him. Close as in, if they got any closer he'd be having sex with them. Close as in he was now intimately familiar with the fact that Honda had eaten a cheeseburger with onions before getting into the limo. Close as in if he didn't get out of this limo soon, Jo wouldn't have any friends to return to. Close as in he was going to disinherit Mokuba if he didn't stop yelling in his ear like that. Close as in he wondered if there was some kind of shadow spell that he could cast to silence the lot of them permanently.

 

“None that work well.” Yami's voice murmured next to him.

 

Kaiba arched an eyebrow questioningly at him.

 

“I've considered it and it wouldn't work. The space is too confined.” Yami held a hand out towards him, holding something in it.

 

Kaiba extended his hand and found himself the possessor of a set of earplugs. He looked back at Yami, who smiled at him.

 

“How do you think I do it?” The pharaoh smiled serenely and cuddled back into the plush leather upholstery closing his eyes.

 

~*~*~*

Bakura

~*~*~*

 

Bakura trudged, head down, shoulders drooping, into the bar. It couldn't even be called a nightclub. It was small, dingy, dirty and depressing. It also happened to be one of the hotspots in the city for suicidal losers who were just about to pitch themselves off a conveniently located bridge. The bartender, who looked like Boris Karloff pitch hitting for Bela Lugossi, loomed behind a gloomy bar.

 

Eyeing the dead roach on the bar stool he was just about to sit on, he considered just going home to his light. With any luck, he could convince his beautiful tenshi to cook him some dinner. He could then spend the rest of this miserable evening cuddled on the sofa with Ryou, sipping a beer, eating candy coated peanuts and watching taped episodes of Captive Passions. He was at least a week behind with all the excitement and running around. Sighing in resignation, he flicked the bug off and plunked himself on the stool.

 

“So this chick says, “Where are you going?” The gloomy lowlife that drooped forlornly on his barstool next to him was leaning listlessly on the bar talking to Boris.

 

“Should have run.” The bartender wiped out a glass with a dingy grey cloth and set it on the counter.

 

“Well, I backed up and got out the door and she's leaning there, all weird and everything, yelling “Come back, don't ya wanna fuck me.” It was scary man, scary.” The drooping lowlife shivered in horror, flicked another roach out of his drink and downed the whole glass.

 

“Should be careful of those online date girls.” The bartender tossed his cloth under the counter and turned to Bakura. “What can I get you?”

 

“Vodka, hold the roaches.” Noticing a small dish, the yami pulled it over. A small flock of flies rose from it, so he shoved it back before he could get a look at the contents.

 

“Yeah. I answered one. The chick said she was slightly overweight.” The lowlife drooped farther, nearly hiding under the bar. “She was five hundred, if she was a pound.”

 

“Better doing it the old fashion way.” A semi-clear glass of liquid that could have been vodka in another life, appeared in front of Bakura.

 

He took it and, gathering his courage, took a sip. Drain cleaner. Bakura shrugged and downed the rest of it. He really needed to get into this being depressed thing more. Compared to the people he was now associating with, he was far too cheery. As he watched the two not so gleeful people discuss the barren wasteland of their lives, he contemplated what he wanted to be moody about. Five thousand years stuck in a metal object? I want depressed, not suicidal… Spending eternity with the pharaoh? That's worse, at least with the ring I could pretend I could kill myself…Having to deal with the Ryou's friends? Not bad, but thinking about that leads to periods of lost time and waking up with Ryou asking what I'm doing with a bloody weapon, which of course leads to no sex, which does in a way lead to me being depressed. I'll use it as a back up. How about gaining a body and finding out I'm a copy of my hikari? Now, that will do. I had such a great body, tall, muscular, great scar on my cheek, tall, athletic, muscular, agile , tall, elegant, muscular, tan, tall, had great blue eyes, have I mentioned being tall and having muscles? I miss those… With a morose sigh he waved his glass at the bartender, “Another, and this time, who cares about the roaches..”

 

The bartender nodded and poured another.

 

“Women, who can figure them.” The lowlife drooped even more, nearly laying on the floor, waving his glass in the air as he talked. “One minute everything's just fine, the next you've got a court restraining order on you and you can't be within a mile's radius of a school.”

 

Bakura tried the drooping and propped his chin on his hand. He could see his old body. It had been great. He used to be able to dodge and turn through the market, with a pack of guards on his heels, for hours and not break a sweat. Now look at him, stuck in a little, fragile body that got winded if he jogged down the street.

 

“Women, they're evil. Pure evil.” The bartender leaned over the bar and poured some liquid into the lowlife's wavering glass.

 

Bakura shifted uncomfortably on the stool as his leather pants pinched in a unpleasant place. He'd been tall too, all elegant muscles and long limbs. He hadn't been one of those idiots that loomed like hippos at the edge of the market, with their over developed muscles and shaved heads. No, he'd had long legs and arms with smooth cords of muscle under tanned skin. He defiantly hadn't looked like a girly teenage boy with soft round limbs and not enough height to intimidate even the most stunted of bullies.

 

“Maybe I should just go up to some pretty girl and ask her out…” The man wailed hopelessly from the floor.

 

Bakura twitched again, trying to not look like he was pulling at the crotch of his pants, but damn the things were chaffing and pinching. Should have just worn a pair of black jeans, in this light no one would notice the difference… unless they started feeling me up…Oh, great why did I have to think of that… He contemplated his old body again. The scar, how he had loved the scar. He hadn't loved getting it, but once it had healed over, it'd been great. Instead of having a pretty boy face, he'd had character. Oh, then his eyes… blue eyes. They were his father's eyes, but while his father had been a gentle smiling man, with clear, smiling eyes, his eyes had been dark as the sky just before evening, dark and dangerous as the Nile during the flood time.

 

The lowlife on the floor wailed, “I should just be a monk. A MONK!” He thrashed around and kicked Bakura's barstool.

 

Bakura, drooping, and trying his best to be depressed, wasn't ready for the sudden feeling of his chair being knocked out from under him and fell backward. His drink, with it's pickled roach, smacking him in the face, the vodka burning into his eyes. “Aaahhhhgggg.”

 

“Oh shit, sorry man, sorry.” He heard the lowlife babble.

 

“I am going to gut you!” Bakura thrashed around, blinded by the vodka. “Shit! Fucking shithead!”

 

A hand touched his shoulder and he swung on it, feeling a satisfying thud of flesh meeting flesh at a good clip.

 

“Ooohhhfff. Hey, just trying to help here.” The bartender's melancholy voice sounded a bit stunned.

 

“I've got the fucking shit in my eyes.” Bakura wiped at them frantically, vodka and tears streaming down his face.

 

“Okay, hold still. It's just me. I've got a towel with some water.” A damp cloth was pressed into his hand.

 

“Shit. Fuck this hurts.” Bakura slapped the cloth over his eyes. There was a scuffle of feet and a pair of hands touched him.

 

“Stop whining and let's get you up.” The bartender pulled him to his feet and guided him, one shuffling step at a time to a chair. The vinyl creaked wretchedly under his weight and his pants chose that moment to return to their new hobby of trying to geld him.

 

“Fuck this, I'm going home.” Bakura tried to stumble to his feet, but the Boris Karloff reject held him still.

 

“You have any friends to pick you up?” The man pulled the cloth away and handed him another.

 

Bakura tried to blink his eyes clear, but things remained blurry. He wiped his eyes carefully, then stopped. Blinking he looked at his own hand, then wiped his eyes again and looked again. Slender, calloused, tan fingers were where his pale, Ryou-like one's had been a few moments ago. Blinking and wiping his eyes he looked down at himself. His leather pants were straining around the seams, trying to encompass his now longer, far more buff body. Tan ankles showed clearly beneath the cuff of the pants and his feet were now giving him hell about being in too small leather boots. He touched his cheek, feeling the long missed ridges of scar tissue.

 

“Oh shit… I'm me again.”

 

~*~*~*

Yuai

~*~*~*

 

“This is just so wrong.” Yuai looked at herself in a mirror. Mr. Kallon had, with the help of a rather sharp knife, freed her of the beautiful dress from hell, much to the side splitting amusement of the Magician of Black Chaos, who appeared to be either named Asshole, or Ledowr, and had led her to a equally lovely room that had real furniture in it.

 

It also had real clothes in it, or, semi-real clothes. She glowered at the delicate ensemble of jewels, silk, gold embroidery and delicate underskirts of light as a breath silk tulle. It wasn't, if she was going to be honest with herself, the clothes that annoyed her. They were a poor girl's fantasy come true. Underneath all the denials; scabby, bruised knees; sloppy mismatched socks; and dirty, frumpy, poorly fitting outfits; she had dreamily wished that one day she would be petted, pampered, loved and dressed like a princess. Well, she got the dressed like a princess part, at least.

 

It was the reflection that stared back at her from the mirror that set her teeth a-grinding. “I look like a freak of nature!”

 

“Dearest, I don't see any problem with how you look.” Mr. Kallon soothed as he whisked the remnants of her previous dress aside. “You are lovely.”

 

The Yuai in the mirror, indeed was lovely, with her slender bones, fair as cream complexion, lustrously beautiful blue eyes that were set in a exquisitely perfect face, trim curvy waist, and a pair of swan down pale, I-can't-believe-I -can-still-walk-upright breasts. But the hair! She glowered at it with her now heart-stoppingly lovely eyes, “I have gold hair! I'm not talking blond. The stuff's gold.” She pulled a long silken tress irritably. “This is just not right!”

 

“Dearest, that's how you've always looked.” Mr. Kallon gently shooed her away from the mirror and toward the door. “Just as soon as your memory comes back, you'll realize that …”

 

“I'm a freak of nature.” Yuai grumped, pouting with rosebud soft lips. “I always wondered what it would be like to be a super model, but this is …wrong. Deeply wrong.”

 

“Well let it be wrong.” Asshole, or Ledowr snapped from the nearby doorway. “Court starts in a couple hours and,” he pointed to himself, “I am not going to sit there and listen to one more twit whine about how unfair their life is.”

 

Mr. Kallon shooed him out too and bustled them down the hall. “That's fine Ledowr. I'm sure that after five thousand years of your scintillating presence, they'll be relieved with the change.”

 

People whisked by them as they were hurried down the hall, many doing double takes and a few stumbling as they missed steps as they noted Yuai. Little whispers echoed unintelligibly from behind them, full of surprise.

 

Probably wondering who the moron with the gold hair is. There had better be a beauty salon someplace with lots and lots of hair dye. Yuai tried to slink as unobtrusively as possible in Mr. Kallon's wake, well as unobtrusively as possible in a nearly glowing white dress with hundreds, if not thousands of sparkling diamonds. Yugi, where are you when I really need you! Find me! Bring clothes! Help!! I promise I will even wear the Millennium Necklace! I won't hide it in the gardener's shed. If you bring hair dye, I'll even wear it to bed at night!

 

Suddenly, she stopped. It wasn't funny. She wouldn't be going home. She wouldn't be seeing Yugi again. There wouldn't be pizza at Pizza heaven. She wouldn't be there when Jo got home, to welcome him with ice cream. Mokuba would run around meditating and forgetting his pencil case in the morning without her there to nudge him aware and hand him his crumpled homework. She wouldn't be going back to class. She would never eat another meal in the cafeteria while Honda and Yugi placed bets on what it was. She would never pass high school. Never get a diploma, make plans for college, move out of the Kaiba estate, get married, have kids, wave at Mokuba as he graduated college, watch Jo go bald and get a middle age pot belly.

 

“I want to go home.” She looked wildly around. If there was a way into this place, there had to be a way out.

 

“Dearest, you are home.” Mr. Kallon, nudged her along. “You've been away for awhile, but this is your home.”

 

“No, all my friends…” Yuai shook her head.

 

“You can see them all you like.” Mr. Kallon placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Would you like to see them now?”

 

“Oh, stop it with the kind nurse routine.” Ledowr grabbed Yuai and shoved her toward a window. She wiggled desperately to get free. “Look out there.”

 

She appeared to be in a rather large stone building set atop a cliff. Tall pale stone walls marched around the building, like castle walls, enclosing a miniature city of parks, buildings, paths and ponds. Gaily colored banners waved from poles. Men dressed in the same bright colors with swords, lances and other medieval type weapons walked with military precision across the walls. Below, a much, much larger city sprawled in brown stone and green trees like a carpet around the base of the cliff.

 

“This is your home. You were born here.” He held her still as he pointed out the window. “This is where you belong. You don't belong in the mortal realm, wiping snot from some rich kids face. You don't belong in some moronic school learning the fine art of sleeping with your eyes open. You defiantly don't belong in some mortal ass' bed.” He let her go. “You belong here. This is the Shadow Realm princess, and it's your responsibility. You've goofed off for five millennia, so get back to work!”

 

She was abruptly yanked out of Ledowr's hands and found herself in Mr. Kallon's protective embrace. “You don't have to be unpleasant. Soon as she calms down, she'll get her memories back.” He smiled gently down at her. “Would you like to see your friends? You may not be able to speak with them right now, but would it make you feel better if you see them?”

 

“Yes, please.” Yuai nodded meekly.

 

“Good girl. Now, what I am about to show you is really something special.” He steered her back down the hall, leaving Ledowr glowering in their wake.

 

 

They walked down more halls, leaving more stunned whispers behind them like bread crumbs. Rich tapestries, glowing candles, soft carpets woven in complicated patterns and rich, polished furniture lined the walls. The occasional rooms, they went through, were all light, bright with carved wood and delicate, intricately carved furnishings. The inside walls all seemed to be made of differing colors of marble. The rooms she had first found herself in had been white and gold. The other rooms seemed a mix of grey with white or green with black marble.

 

Mr. Kallon still striding along with one arm around Yuai's shoulders and occasionally sending the trailing Ledowr a admonishing look, finally pushed open a carved wooden door and waved Yuai inside. In the center of the room, what looked to be a rather large stone basin on a pedestal stood. Along the sides of the room, a line of plush, upholstered chairs waited. Ledowr flung himself into one with a bored sigh.

 

Mr. Kallon took a slender silver pitcher from a nearby table and handed it to Yuai. “Pour this into the Mirror and think of your friends.”

 

Yuai looked around. There were some nice windows on one side of the room, but nothing else that was even somewhat mirror like. “What mirror?”

 

Ledowr snickered and pointed to the stone pedestal with it's basin. “That thing there.”

 

Mr. Kallon looked offended. “The Mirror is a piece of artwork that has been handed down for thousands of years, from master to pupil. I'll have you know it was once owned by an elven queen.”

 

Yuai stepped up to it, looking at it suspiciously. “It's a bird bath.”

 

“Mirror.” Mr. Kallon frowned at her, as Ledowr snickered even more evilly then before. “Do you want to see your friends or not.”

 

Yuai, feeling silly, poured the water into the bird…mirror.. thing. It swirled around for a moment then clouded up. She smiled as the image of Yami with Yugi curled in his lap appeared. They seemed to be in a limo. Kaiba with a sleeping Mokuba cuddled next to him sat nearby with a the rest of her friends sprawled in various poses of sleep across the upholstery. She smiled relieved to see them. A warm comforted feeling wrapped around her. Life couldn't be that bad if her friends were all there. “They're on their way to pick up Jonouchi.”

 

As she said that, the image in the mirror changed. With a cry of horror she stepped back. The mirror now showed Jonouchi.

 

~*~*~*

Jonouchi

~*~*~*

 

It didn't bother him that much anymore. He knew he wasn't getting out of here and, while he'd been scared and frantic at first, a blissful, numb feeling had taken it's place. Now, he just wanted it over. He was tired, he hurt and he just wanted this over. He lay on the same bloody, stinking mattress, that he couldn't even smell anymore, probably, he thought, because I stink more, and listened to the man shriek to himself outside the door.

 

The shrieking was about the only thing he could consider normal in this place. The man shrieked most of the time. Sometimes, he'd just yell at the TV, or at him, or at the wreck of a car that was parked in the front of the cabin. Most often though, he'd shriek, long, high pitched screams, as if someone was tearing him apart from the inside out. He babbled sometimes when he was in one of his shrieking fits, screaming at someone, telling them to leave him alone, pleading, begging, threatening, sobbing. Not that it mattered, but it was getting familiar, almost comfortable.

 

He closed his eyes, waiting. After the shrieking, the man would come in here and either beat the hell out of him again or rape him. Again, not that it mattered anymore. His body was broken in too many places, too many cuts, bruises and wounds that hadn't been tended and had become infected, had shut down too much of his body to really feel what happened to it anymore. He just hoped that this time the man would get carried away and kill him. He wanted to sleep.

 

In a distant way, he was a bit sad. He would have liked to see Kaiba again. From what the man shrieked at times, and the rotting infection in his hand from where one finger had been cut off with a pair of garden sheers, he knew this whole thing had been aimed at his lover. He knew Kaiba and his overgrown sense of responsibility. He would have like to tell him it wasn't his fault, that he still loved him and not to be too sad. He'd wait. Whatever there was in the afterlife, he'd wait there for Kaiba, to great him with smiles and kisses and what kept yous.

 

“They can't do this! I had plans!” The man slammed into the room, glaring down at the skeletally thin figure that was curled in a fetal position on the stained mattress. He kicked the figure and watched in roll limply over. “Get up slut!”

 

The figure didn't move. It really hadn't moved much for over a week, but he kicked it again. “Get up. We're leaving. They ain't taking you away from me that easy.”

 

He bent down and grabbed one bone thin arm. He'd have grabbed it's hair, if it still had any, but he'd shaved it off a few weeks ago when he realized it had lice. He hauled it out the door, dragging it behind him, not bothered by the fact that it wasn't even making an attempt at walking.

 

“Fucking bastard, you think your just going to waltz in here Kaiba and take your fuck toy back.” The man ranted as he hauled the figure out the door, not really noticing or caring that a trail of blood smeared across the floor, down the steps and across the grass after him. “Well, you ain't Kaiba.”

 

Jo, for the fist time in weeks, smelled fresh air, the crisp scent of pine, the crushed, green smell of grass, the cool, wet breeze from the mountain canyons. Faintly, from a distance he could hear the sound of water, rushing bright, fast and clear through the forest. If he could still have done it, he would have smiled. What a nice way to leave. A few last moments of pretty sounds and smells before he went to sleep. He opened his eyes, wondering if he could see anything. It was still very early in the morning, the sun had barely begun to rise above the tree line, but a few things appeared. Over to one side, there were pines with soft bushes nestled between their roots. A carpet of pine needles and tiny branches scattered here and there in the pre-dawn gloom.

 

“I was going to do you good.” The man snarled, still dragging the unresponsive body along behind him. “Burn you, or tear you apart. Got some chains and was going to tie you to a tree and the bumper and let'r rip.”

 

Jo didn't pay attention. The sun was rising a bit more and he could see the soft pink flowers that peeked shyly from the bushes. Someplace a squirrel started chattering as the birds woke from their sleep and greeted the morning with curious warbles.

 

“Fuck you Kaiba.” The man screamed turning to look back over his shoulder.

 

The low purr of a motor could be heard below the chatter of the birds. Jo wished he could still move enough to look. It would be nice to see Kaiba again, even for a moment, but the man started moving again.

 

“I could still do ya.” The man panted, he was coming to a rise in the terrain. “Just have to think of how.” He looked around as he rushed up the slope. “Too late to burn ya. Left the damn knife at the house or I could gut ya and wrap your insides around a bush. Read about that once. Seemed kinda painful.” He came to a flat space and paused to look back. “Still got the gun, but, fuck it, that's too quick.”

 

A group of voices came from back at the cabin. Jo could faintly make out the tones. Yami was there, so Yugi was probably nearby. Honda's voice called something back, causing a faint smile to tug at his cracked, tattered lips. Then Kaiba's voice, low pitched and commanding. He closed his eyes to focus on that voice, letting it flow into him. Just one minute, is that too much to ask? I just want to see him for one minute.

 

“The river. Damn it, came the wrong way. If I'm going to drown ya, I should have taken the other path. Fuck it.” He yanked the limp figure after him as he raced across the rocky, flat expanse and dove into the forest. “I ain't lettin' Kaiba win. I ain't. He destroyed my life. He took everythin'. My little girl, my wife, even my fuckin' dog.” The man sobbed. “They were everythin', EVERYTHIN' and he took them!”

 

The voices were calling to each other. They seemed to be getting closer. The man threw Jonouchi against a tree near the edge of a long drop into the raging river that raced below them. He glared at the pitiful, broken thing that had once been a person. “But he ain't gettin' you.” He pulled out a gun and aimed it.

 

~*~*~*

Kaiba

~*~*~*

 

The trail of blood led upwards toward a plateau. Kaiba, with Yami and Honda at his heals raced upwards. The blood was fresh and bright, it couldn't be more then a few minutes old. Behind him, he could hear Mokuba herding the other's into the limo to wait for Kado and his men. It was bad enough that Mokuba had seen that…den, he didn't need his little brother to see anything else, and from the look on Yami's face, he didn't want him to see what Yami was planning to do when he found the man responsible for that room they had walk into. He didn't mind seeing. Hell, just as long as the pharaoh let him have his…say… first, he could do whatever he wanted to whatever was left.

 

At the top of the plateau, the trail took a sharp right, heading for a stand of trees. Kaiba nearly bolted into the clearing, only to be hauled back by Yami.

 

“Ambush.” The shorter one nodded to the edge of the clearing. “Stay covered and get moving.”

 

He nodded. No point getting killed before he introduced himself to the man who had Jo. He raced through the bushes, not noticing the cuts and slashes from the branches. They picked up the trail again. It headed back towards a drop off. Below them, the sound of water rushing through a narrow pass in a valley echoed up to them.

 

“Where the fuck are they?” Honda panted, whispering and looking around.

 

“Up.” Yami whispered back, nodding toward a slight incline. He stopped, stumbling as a huge explosion of Shadow Magic thundered around him. It sent invisible shock waves down the mountain staggering him. “Jo!”

 

“Shut up.” Kaiba took another look at the trail, and started forward, feeling something dark wash through him for a moment, then it was gone, leaving a frantic, lost feeling in it's wake.

 

A single shot rang through the clear air.

 

~*~*~*

Yuai

~*~*~*

 

“Do something!” She yanked at Mr. Kallon, screaming and pointing to the mirror, that showed Jonouchi being thrown against a tree. “I don't care what, but do something.”

 

Ledowr lazed over and looked, “It looks like the kid's about dead, probably better off if the guy put him out of his…”

 

Yuai whipped around snarling, “When he dies, so do you.”

 

Ledowr stepped back. He admitted, in the last few millennia, he'd forgotten a few things. Things like Yuai's loyalty to her friends, even the one's that didn't deserve it. Things like her temper, the fact that it curled in soft peaceful waves till roused, then it shattered down like a tidal wave. Things like the vast amount of sheer power she was now radiating, making her blue eyes glow eerily and her golden hair whip around her as if she stood in the middle of a wind storm. He truly had forgotten why the little slip of fluff was the Lady of the Realm. He shouldn't have, after all, he voted her in.

 

“Dearest…” Mr. Kallon, reached out a hand to sooth her, the look in his eyes betraying to Ledowr that he too had forgotten why they'd shanghaied the girl into dealing with all the assorted craziness that passed for their Realm.

 

“Save him!” Yuai slapped his hand away. “You got me here. Bring him too! Anything! Do something!”

 

The man was aiming now, grinning as he heard Kaiba's, Yami's and Honda's frantic steps.

 

“You might not like…” Ledowr, edged uneasily, trying to keep the Mirror between himself and the volatile piece of fluff.

 

The fluff snarled. He wondered if she realized she had fangs now. Pointy ones too, he noted absently, and they looked rather sharp.

 

“Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you….”

 

~*~*~*

Kaiba

~*~*~*

 

The man was dead. He lay next to the long drop off down to the churning, swift river below. A handgun lay next to his hand and a small trickle of blood oozed slowly from his right temple. The grass around him was crushed, and against a tree, right at the very edge of the chasm, was a bright patch of blood. But no Jo. He stood there blinking and looking around. Where was Jo?

 

Yami stepped forward, looking carefully at the dead man. “He isn't hurt, except for the gunshot.” He looked towards the tree, then stepped to the edge and looked down.

 

Honda shook his head and called, “Hey Jo! It's me Honda, where are you man?” He looked at Kaiba and Yami, who were both staring at the river below them. “He's got to be someplace.” He looked around the small clearing, then jogged into the trees calling. “Jo. Come on man. It's me. Just call to me.”

 

“Too much blood.” Yami whispered, looking down. “The man didn't leave it. He's barely scratched and Jo couldn't have walked away, not bleeding like that.”

 

Kaiba nodded, watching the water rush in a white foam through the pass. He could hear Honda still calling, but it seemed distant. “I thought, just for a … that it would be…”

 

Yami nodded, “It's over now. No one can hurt him anymore.”

 

“Not comforted pharaoh.” Kaiba wondered what would happen if he took one more step. The river would probably pound the life out of him before he got a chance to drown. He wavered at the edge.

 

“Mokuba.”

 

Kaiba looked over at the ancient spirit, who was looking sadly back. “What?”

 

“If you step, Mokuba will be the one to pay.” Yami shook his head. “Do you really want to leave him?”

 

“No.” He stepped back, putting distance between himself and the lure of joining Jo. He looked one more time around the area, then turned and walked away.

 

“Jo, come on man, if you can hear me, yell or something.” Honda's voice was getting fainter in the distance.

 

Yami looked around, trying to figure out where the blast of magic had come from. The dead man reeked of magic, an old, dank, corrupt smell, but the magic he'd been nearly flattened by had felt different, darker yet cleaner. He prowled around, hoping to find some clue, but nothing seemed out of place. He looked back over to the cliff, hearing Honda still calling desperately, then shook his head and followed Kaiba. First he had to deal with his hikari. Yugi would be devastated. His little light had been so excited about finding his friend, to see Kaiba's face as he walked back without Jonouchi, would destroy the fragile hope he'd been holding onto. Only after he was sure Yugi would be able to cope without him, he, Bakura and Marik would need to come back here and see what had really happened.

 

~*~*~*

Jonouchi

~*~*~*

 

He really was a bit disappointed. He'd expected that the afterlife would be a lot less painful. Instead of peace, love and various dead relatives, he had blurred glimpses of the Magician of Black Chaos looking ticked; the Dark Sage looking like a startled hen who's chicks had just rebelled; an infuriated angel that looked vaguely like Yuai; a Mystic Elf that looked harried and three white haired arch-angels, who seemed bent on glowering at everything in sight. He closed his eyes as a small, slender red eyed, black haired…devil?.. slipped into the room and whispered to one of the arch-angels. “When did master get here and who the fuck beat the shit out of him?”

 

Heaven, it appeared, needed a bit of work.

 

~*~*~*

 

Okay, I made it extra long to make up for it being late. Forgiven??? How about if I promise no more Jonouchi torture??????

 

dragonlady222: See, one curse all broken and everything. Bet you didn't see this coming did you. Thanks for your support for my little OC. Poor Kaiba, just a bit too late, but if it helps, the period of Kaiba torture is nearly over. *characters break into a dance of joy*

 

Sorceress Sarrkh: He lied. He's sorry he lied, but he did lie. Just not about what you thought he lied about. And yes, poor Kaiba is going to have his delightful little nose rubbed in more magic before the story is over.