Yu-Gi-Oh!, October, part 12
Title: October
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Pairings: implied YnMarik & YnBakura, YnMarik & Ryou, YnYuugi & YnBakura, established Jounouchi & Mai, Yugi & Anzu, forthcoming YnMarik & YnBakura & YnYuugi
Warnings: foul language, violence, shounen ai
Genre: AU, sci-fi
Summary: They’re not from this world, and have lived through time, space and universes to fulfill their goals- the ones called Shadow Born, Thief King, and Pharaoh. With their own reasons and motives, what happens to the ones they inevitable drag into their lives?
Author’s notes: Everybody is around 18-20 of age, except YnMarik, YnBakura and YnYuugi. Gratuitous use of artistic license and a whole lot of made up crap. Feedback greatly appreciated.
Key: --------- = scene change
Yuugi tried to be as silent as possible when he snuck into the kitchen. Making breakfast wasn’t one of his household chores, but he liked rummaging with pots and pans, even if it was early in the morning. Some scrambled eggs, a few slices of toast… nothing too difficult, yet yummy and nutritious enough to start the day. He walked on tiptoe to avoid waking anyone in the house up, but he was stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his grandfather behind the stove.
“Jii-chan..? You’re up awfully early.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” the elderly man answered. He turned around to face his grandson. “I was worried, Yuugi.”
“Worried about what? Jii-chan, if something is wrong…”
“I was worried that you were mad at me, Yuugi. Are you mad at me?”
“Mad?” Yuugi was flabbergasted. “Jii-chan… I don’t understand at all!”
Solomon Mutou swirled the pan around, coating the bottom with the vegetable oil. Next to him was a bowl with beaten eggs and both the pepper and salt grinder. “For taking in a guest, so unexpectedly.”
“We couldn’t let him wander the streets alone at that hour,” Yuugi protested. “Besides, there was no guarantee there was a room free at the nearest hotel…”
“True. However, there’s a hotel nearby the spaceport, and as our little planet isn’t that well-visited, I think they’d have more than enough vacancies.”
“Jii-chan, you always say that it’s important to show some old-fashioned, Earthly hospitality.”
“Yes, you’re right.” The eggs went into the sizzling hot pan. “If Atemu-san hadn’t declined, he would’ve been welcome to stay for the night here as well.”
“I know, jii-chan. I don’t mind that Bakura-san is here.”
“I’m an old man, Yuugi, and I have the feeling something terrible is about to happen. Something ominous, and it started when you brought Atemu-san home. I’m not blaming you for anything, but I wish from the bottom of my heart that your kindness didn’t prevail that evening.”
“I’m sorry.” Yuugi tried to ignore the slight anger welling up in him, as usual when something negative about Atemu was said. He wanted to defend him, even if he didn’t know why. His grandfather was right, it wasn’t normal to take a complete stranger home with you, but what if it felt so right to do so? “I didn’t want to cause any trouble.”
Solomon stared at the eggs in the pan, using the spatula to move the mixture around. “It’s no trouble at all, Yuugi,” he sighed. “Just chalk it up to old age. I’m going crazy.”
“Jii-chan, please, don’t say such things.” Yuugi opened the fridge and took out a plastic container with leftover vegetables. He handed it to his grandfather, who opened the container and added the chopped greens to the cooking eggs. “You’re not going crazy. I’m really sorry.”
Solomon refrained from heaving a sigh. The last thing he wanted to do, was to make his grandson feel bad. But the moment Atemu had stepped through the door, with that silver cartouche around his neck and not knowing his name, had made his stomach turn itself into knots. He couldn’t shake that ominous feeling. Solomon decided to change the topic, as to not upset Yuugi any further.
“Is Anzu coming over today?”
“I know she has class this afternoon. I’m sure she’ll swing by once she’s finished.”
“That’s fine by me, Yuugi. That leaves you this morning to take Bakura-san to go to the spaceport, right?”
“Yes, jii-chan. Do you want to come along?”
“No, thank you. Someone has to keep the shop open.” He took the pan from the burner and shook it a little. “Ah, they’re just perfect! Is our guest awake yet?”
As if on cue, Ryou stepped into the kitchen, slightly flustered. He had taken a brief shower and, knowing that utilities like electricity and water were limited on Vertregg 12, he had made sure that Yuugi and his grandfather didn’t run out of water for the rest of the day.
“Good morning everyone,” he said, his voice soft and polite.
“Good morning Bakura-san, sit down, please.” Solomon divided the scrambled eggs over three plates. Yuugi poured orange juice and took the slices of toast, piling them up next to the eggs.
“Did you sleep well, Bakura-san?” he asked.
“Yes, I did,” Ryou answered. “Thank you for allowing me to spend the night here, Mutou-san.”
“Yuugi,” Yuugi corrected him gently, pleased that Ryou adopted the use of honorifics so quickly and easily. In turn, Ryou was pleased that Yuugi allowed him to call him by his first name. His head was spinning with the information he had picked up; he was going to be so far ahead of his fellow students, and he hadn’t even started officially yet!
“Yuugi-kun,” Ryou said and Yuugi nodded. “This tastes wonderful. I never thought of mixing vegetables in with scrambled eggs.”
“It’s my grandfather’s secret recipe to make me eat greens,” Yuugi said, chuckling. “I used to really dislike them when I was younger, and threw a hissy fit every time I found a speck of green on my plate. Jii-chan discovered quickly enough that adding them to my scrambled eggs, all chopped up, made me eat them without kicking up the slightest fuss.”
“How smart.” Ryou was amused. Then he continued, softly: “I don’t want to cause any trouble with your food supplies… I already took a shower this morning. I can pay…”
“I don’t want to hear one more word about it, Bakura-san.” Solomon could raise his voice to an impressive, stern tone if he wanted to. “Enjoy your breakfast and some genuine Earthly hospitality, before you go back to your plastic and steel of your KaibaCorp.”
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Vertregg 12’s spaceport was easy accessible by hover bus and as a KaibaCorp. employee, Ryou’s ride was free of charge. He paid for Yuugi’s ticket before the other could protest.
“I’m sorry if I caused any friction between you and your grandfather,” he said as soon as they sat down. Yuugi told him not to worry, and to stop apologizing. He couldn’t stay angry or frustrated with Ryou; he was a kind and caring person.
“How come you’re so interested in that... how did you call it, that Ceremonial Tablet? And working for Kaiba to boot? He doesn’t seem the type to be interested in ancient artifacts to me.”
“I was rather surprised myself,” Ryou answered. “When I pointed out the similarities between him and the Priest on the stone tablet, he showed very much interest, and before I knew it, I was a KaibaCorp. employee with a research funds that went up and above my greatest expectations. As for my interest in the Ceremonial Tablet… I’m just trying to follow in my father’s footsteps. He took a great interest in history, and he passed that love onto me.”
“That’s great! I had general education, but unfortunately, not much time was spend on history.”
“Have you ever considered going to college?”
“Vertregg 12 doesn’t have colleges,” Yuugi said, “and I didn’t want to leave my grandfather alone, with the Gameshop and all, while I was off studying on some other planet. I may have a simple life, but I’m okay with it.” Until a stranger came along… “This is our stop,” he added lamely when the bus came to a halt. Ryou didn’t ask any further, and stepped out of the bus along with Yuugi. The space port, the hub for all space travel from and to Vertregg 12, was right in front of them. It was just a tall, grey building that mirrored the defeatist, sullen demeanor of the entire planet.
Yuugi knew exactly the docking station of the Datura, so he went ahead. Ryou followed him, checking quickly his PMA for full power. He couldn’t return to Altana without all these treasures of information. Leaving the commercial cargo ships behind them, they entered the docks for private and luxury travel. The LAV stood out, an elegant sight between all the graceless, bulky ships that were docked next to it. Yuugi increased his pace in his enthusiasm and Ryou had to hurry to keep up with him. The side door to the Datura was open and Yuugi tapped on the steel ladder underneath it, the sound resonating through the ship.
“Atemu-kun? Good morning! Are you there?”
Ryou was slightly taken aback by the honorific Yuugi used. It sounded almost too… intimate in this context. Would a Pharaoh really allow others to call him like this, with his first name?
“Yuugi? Come on board!” The voice held more authority than Ryou had ever heard, matching… no, surpassing Kaiba’s even. It was hard to imagine that someone could overpower Kaiba Seto. Adrenaline rushed through him, butterflies whirling around in his stomach.
“No, no, can you come outside, please, Atemu-kun? I have someone with me who would like to meet you.”
Silence. For a moment, Ryou was afraid that the Datura would suddenly take off and speed away. But after a few minutes of ghastly silence, he heard rummaging and other indefinable sounds, before Atemu appeared in the door opening. Ryou gasped from the sheer and utter shock. This was the Pharaoh from the Ceremonial Tablet, no doubt about it. The way he stood there, towering over him, carrying himself like an authority, a god-like creature with a wisdom of ages and centuries, his crimson red eyes bored immediately into Ryou’s, examining his mind, his soul, his very core. He was about to take a step back from the sheer pressure of the first impression, when he noticed something else about the other, just for a second - Atemu’s eyes widened as well.
“Bakura,” he said, his voice grave. “You have found me sooner than I anticipated. You are causing trouble, whenever you arrive.”
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“Jesus fuck.” Malik touched the damaged outer hull of the October almost reverently, his fingers sliding over the jagged edges of the torn alloy. It was like someone had taken a giant can opener and just pulled it along the ship’s side. Tilting his head, he could hear Marik scream all the way over here from the main office of the spaceport; he hadn’t taken kindly to Billun’s old docking system which had caused the damage in the first place. For once, Malik wasn’t on the receiving end of Marik’s wrath, and that suited him just fine. He was getting tired of all that hatred and anger all the time, yet he didn’t know any better. Anger had determined his entire life, and hatred was so omnipresent in his life, that he simply didn’t know what to do without it. Malik straightened himself, and dusted his hands off on his cargo pants. He’d been tasked to assess the damage, and so far it didn’t seem too complicated. No hull breach, no vital engines or parts were broken or destroyed. It was going to be a bitch to repair the plate work though, and Billun didn’t have the capacity for spaceship repair.
He stretched. Other pilots had commented on the obvious damage, but after one look at either Malik’s or Marik’s face, everyone went silent, excusing themselves quickly. Malik always had to keep from snorting out loud. Marik had built the October with his own hands, nobody needed to tell him how to repair his own goddamn ship. He patted his belly. It was getting close to noon, and Marik had been cussing out the spaceport operator all morning. He didn’t need to wait for Marik to have lunch, the other didn’t eat anyway. They had taken in a bunch of excellent supplies while at Wremmoor: cans of delicious soup that only needed to be heated up. Maybe there was a cafeteria around where he could buy himself a loaf of bread to go with the soup. He dug with his hand in his pants pocket, trying to find some genz. He noticed people looking at him and he was about to scowl, until he realized that they were looking at the October. He shook his head. He really had to stop being so tense and worked up all the time. He didn’t even know what ‘relaxing’ was anymore, yet he would love to have some rest in his life. Constant running, hiding and traveling… and it might’ve been different if it weren’t for Marik’s presence. But he couldn’t get away from him, not now, not ever. Marik was tied to his life, and that was bad enough. Suddenly, he got a nasty vibe from staying outside and he went back into the ship, looking for something to eat.
“Fucker!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Not you.” Marik was impatient, as always. “That idiot of a spaceport operator! He claims that there’s nothing wrong with the docking slots and that it was my misjudgment that caused the damage. The nerve of that fucker! My misjudgment! What the fuck are you doing?”
“Unlike you, I have to eat,” Malik answered. “And I’m in the mood for soup.” He looked over at Marik, for once not carrying weapons on display. As a rare occasion, he could see Marik’s synthfuser in plain sight, attached to his belt.
Marik crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Fine, eat your fucking food,” he said. “What about the damage?”
“Just the outer layer, it’s torn. I’ll look at the reports soon.”
“I can’t believe that asshole,” Marik said, still fuming. “Who the fuck operates such outdated technology? We have to go somewhere to get the repairs done.”
“Sure.” Malik took the hot soup out of the heater and blew at the hot liquid. The kitchenette was cramped with two people in it. “When do you want to leave?”
“As soon as you’ve looked over the reports.”
Without another word, Malik took the bowl of soup to his station. He felt Marik’s eyes burning in his back. It was a little moment of defiance, as Marik really hated it when he was eating at his station, but for once, he delivered no comment. Malik sat down and gave the computer the necessary commands to show the internal damage reports. It was only then, that he noticed the small, red light flickering, as well as a warning message on another screen. Marik made him keep track of so many things, that it was almost a two-man job to gather and process all the information from the massive control panels. He read the warning message, and frowned in both surprise and amazement.
“That’s odd. It says here that Bakura’s synthfuser is offline.”
Marik turned his head sharply towards him. “What’s that?”
“Bakura’s synthfuser is offline,” Malik repeated. “How’s that even possible?”
Marik’s brusque shrug wasn’t an uninterested pose as he pretended it to be. “He probably got himself in some kind of godawful mess again. I considered pulling the plug on him so many times.”
“You can restart it from here, can’t you?”
“Yeah, but why would I want to do that?”
“Well, he’s important… and the Pharaoh…”
“Shut your fucking yap about the Pharaoh!” Marik exploded and shook his fist at the other. “He’s not going to tell me whether to jumpstart a synthfuser or not! Let them both rot!”
Malik had all forgotten about his soup. His eyes went quickly over the damage report, which showed the moment of short-circuiting when the October failed to connect with the docking slots, causing the electricity circuit to be interrupted for just five, ten seconds. And in that time, however short it was, every lock to every door of the ship had been open… and the flashing red light indicated that a certain compartment had been opened. Malik started to sweat profusely. He knew how important that compartment was.
“You’re… not going to like this,” he said. His heart started to beat faster from the increasing adrenaline. If he was lucky, the one thing that he feared, hadn’t happened. Five to ten seconds was such a small window of time… but then again, Bakura had been around. It had to be Bakura.
“What’s the matter?” Marik leaned into the console and stared at the screen. “What?”
“This…” Malik pointed at the flashing light. “It has been opened in the split second we lost electricity.”
“What the fu…” Marik’s eyes widened creepily, bulging out of their sockets, and his lips drew into a monstrous snarl. Without another word, he stormed out of the cockpit. Malik got out of his seat and ran after him, through the large hallways of the October. Marik reached the compartment first and frantically entered his code on the touchpad next to the door. It slid open and both men ran inside, and Marik halted so abruptly that Malik slammed into him.
In the exact center of the small room stood a black pillar, supporting a glass display case. Empty. The force field that was supposed to surround the display case, to protect it, was down. In the five seconds for the entire system to short-circuit, the force field had been disabled and failed to reinstate itself after the electricity came back on. Malik felt his knees turning into weak, wobbly goo and he grabbed the doorpost to keep himself from falling over. The most important thing was gone. The most important thing they had been carrying, had been stolen. Bakura. Now he felt like pulling the plug on the thief himself, if someone else hadn’t done so already. Marik stared with such heated intensity at the empty display case that it was frightening. The amount of pure hatred radiating off of him was staggering.
“He took it,” he said. “He took it, that motherfucking whoring son of a bitch!” He balled his hands into fist, and let out an overwhelming, raging, harrowing scream. “Where is he?” he roared.
“I don’t know,” Malik answered, still staring at the display case. Marik grabbed him at the collar and shook him back and forth.
“Bakura! Where is he! Where is that son of a bitch!”
“I don’t know!” Malik repeated, and he got backhanded, Marik’s flat hand slapping him across the face, not holding back. He wanted to howl in pain, but knowing how much that would please Marik, he bit his tongue to keep from screaming. “His ship is still docked at Wremmoor. It has never moved! Now that his synthfuser is disengaged, I can’t keep track of him!”
“His Other,” Marik hissed at him, still shaking. “Where did you say his Other was?”
“Bakura… Ryou?” It was hard to think when being forcefully manhandled like this. “Altana… Planet Kaiba!” Marik let go of him and he fell to the floor, dizzy.
“We’re leaving, immediately!”
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“Jounouchi, this is taking it too far, even for you.” Honda Hiroto looked on nervously while Jounouchi strapped the gurney to the floor of the Time Wizard. “This ship isn’t suited for four people in the cockpit, and it’s dangerous…”
“Just shut up, Honda.” Jounouchi secured the gurney, refusing to look at the young man lying on it. Bakura’s breathing was so slow that it was barely audible.
“I have to agree with Honda,” Otogi said, albeit hesitant. “This man needs medical help. We just can’t take him to Kaiba like this, Jounouchi. This can’t be good.”
“I know that your feathers have been ruffled,” Honda said, only to interrupt his own talking when Jounouchi looked at him, angrily.
“Oh, I’ll show you how much my feathers have been ruffled,” he said. “I’m going to take the problem straight to Kaiba, just like he wants it. I don’t care what you two think.”
“Hey man, I’m sorry security called me first,” Honda said. “And it’s shitty how Kaiba treats you, yes. But you’re putting all our jobs on the line with this stunt of yours.”
“Are you really afraid that Kaiba’s going to fire you?” Jounouchi arched an eyebrow. “The commercial bounty hunting business is booming, you know.” He waited Honda’s answer, but it didn’t come. He laughed humorlessly. “So you really are a Kaiba fanboy?”
“Well, the employee benefits are good,” Honda muttered. Then he stomped Jounouchi against the shoulder. “Moron!”
“I love you too,” Jounouchi said. “I’m going to Yllsen Volta V, guys. If you want to get out of this mess, just get out. I’ll pick you up on the way later.”
“Are you insane?” Honda’s eyes bulged. “I never back out of a trip, no matter how crazy it is!”
Otogi heaved a sigh. “Fine. But if we get into trouble, it’s on your head.”
Jounouchi couldn’t help but grin. They were friends and colleagues, and he appreciated their support. Honda was right - the Time Wizard was too small for four people in the cockpit, let alone a gurney. It was dangerous, because Bakura wasn’t strapped into a seat, he wasn’t buckled down according to general rules and regulations. Jounouchi didn’t want to wait for all the paperwork to be filled out, or apply for a different ship. The Time Wizard was his, and he wasn’t going to abandon it. He wasn’t really sure if he was doing the right thing, though. He was dependent on Kaiba though, for Shizuka’s sake... and Mai’s sake. The two most important women in his life were his responsibility, no matter how much more humiliation he had to suffer. But this… Bakura person, this was different. He was different. Jounouchi never listened to his own intuition; he was more of a gambler, he looked at his chances and decided which one to take. But now… something told him that he had to bring Bakura to Kaiba, even if he didn’t know why. Jounouchi Katsuya never shied away from a bet or a gamble, that was for sure, and going after Kaiba was a big gamble. He was glad that Honda and Otogi got his back. His hand went to the small, rectangular black device that Otogi had pulled from Bakura, after he had collapsed. This thing had been attached to his body, weirdly enough, and it was some kind of technology Jounouchi didn’t recognize - another reason to get Bakura as soon as possible to Kaiba. This Bakura was tied to Malik and the five million genz bounty, and he, Jounouchi, was going to get to the bottom of this.
“Honda,” he said, “plot the course already, will you?” He didn’t await the other’s answer. Jounouchi put the small device back where he found it, and he straightened himself. “We have no time to lose.”
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Previous chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |
This entry was originally posted at http://the-goldenpath.dreamwidth.org/42310.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Pairings: implied YnMarik & YnBakura, YnMarik & Ryou, YnYuugi & YnBakura, established Jounouchi & Mai, Yugi & Anzu, forthcoming YnMarik & YnBakura & YnYuugi
Warnings: foul language, violence, shounen ai
Genre: AU, sci-fi
Summary: They’re not from this world, and have lived through time, space and universes to fulfill their goals- the ones called Shadow Born, Thief King, and Pharaoh. With their own reasons and motives, what happens to the ones they inevitable drag into their lives?
Author’s notes: Everybody is around 18-20 of age, except YnMarik, YnBakura and YnYuugi. Gratuitous use of artistic license and a whole lot of made up crap. Feedback greatly appreciated.
Key: --------- = scene change
Yuugi tried to be as silent as possible when he snuck into the kitchen. Making breakfast wasn’t one of his household chores, but he liked rummaging with pots and pans, even if it was early in the morning. Some scrambled eggs, a few slices of toast… nothing too difficult, yet yummy and nutritious enough to start the day. He walked on tiptoe to avoid waking anyone in the house up, but he was stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his grandfather behind the stove.
“Jii-chan..? You’re up awfully early.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” the elderly man answered. He turned around to face his grandson. “I was worried, Yuugi.”
“Worried about what? Jii-chan, if something is wrong…”
“I was worried that you were mad at me, Yuugi. Are you mad at me?”
“Mad?” Yuugi was flabbergasted. “Jii-chan… I don’t understand at all!”
Solomon Mutou swirled the pan around, coating the bottom with the vegetable oil. Next to him was a bowl with beaten eggs and both the pepper and salt grinder. “For taking in a guest, so unexpectedly.”
“We couldn’t let him wander the streets alone at that hour,” Yuugi protested. “Besides, there was no guarantee there was a room free at the nearest hotel…”
“True. However, there’s a hotel nearby the spaceport, and as our little planet isn’t that well-visited, I think they’d have more than enough vacancies.”
“Jii-chan, you always say that it’s important to show some old-fashioned, Earthly hospitality.”
“Yes, you’re right.” The eggs went into the sizzling hot pan. “If Atemu-san hadn’t declined, he would’ve been welcome to stay for the night here as well.”
“I know, jii-chan. I don’t mind that Bakura-san is here.”
“I’m an old man, Yuugi, and I have the feeling something terrible is about to happen. Something ominous, and it started when you brought Atemu-san home. I’m not blaming you for anything, but I wish from the bottom of my heart that your kindness didn’t prevail that evening.”
“I’m sorry.” Yuugi tried to ignore the slight anger welling up in him, as usual when something negative about Atemu was said. He wanted to defend him, even if he didn’t know why. His grandfather was right, it wasn’t normal to take a complete stranger home with you, but what if it felt so right to do so? “I didn’t want to cause any trouble.”
Solomon stared at the eggs in the pan, using the spatula to move the mixture around. “It’s no trouble at all, Yuugi,” he sighed. “Just chalk it up to old age. I’m going crazy.”
“Jii-chan, please, don’t say such things.” Yuugi opened the fridge and took out a plastic container with leftover vegetables. He handed it to his grandfather, who opened the container and added the chopped greens to the cooking eggs. “You’re not going crazy. I’m really sorry.”
Solomon refrained from heaving a sigh. The last thing he wanted to do, was to make his grandson feel bad. But the moment Atemu had stepped through the door, with that silver cartouche around his neck and not knowing his name, had made his stomach turn itself into knots. He couldn’t shake that ominous feeling. Solomon decided to change the topic, as to not upset Yuugi any further.
“Is Anzu coming over today?”
“I know she has class this afternoon. I’m sure she’ll swing by once she’s finished.”
“That’s fine by me, Yuugi. That leaves you this morning to take Bakura-san to go to the spaceport, right?”
“Yes, jii-chan. Do you want to come along?”
“No, thank you. Someone has to keep the shop open.” He took the pan from the burner and shook it a little. “Ah, they’re just perfect! Is our guest awake yet?”
As if on cue, Ryou stepped into the kitchen, slightly flustered. He had taken a brief shower and, knowing that utilities like electricity and water were limited on Vertregg 12, he had made sure that Yuugi and his grandfather didn’t run out of water for the rest of the day.
“Good morning everyone,” he said, his voice soft and polite.
“Good morning Bakura-san, sit down, please.” Solomon divided the scrambled eggs over three plates. Yuugi poured orange juice and took the slices of toast, piling them up next to the eggs.
“Did you sleep well, Bakura-san?” he asked.
“Yes, I did,” Ryou answered. “Thank you for allowing me to spend the night here, Mutou-san.”
“Yuugi,” Yuugi corrected him gently, pleased that Ryou adopted the use of honorifics so quickly and easily. In turn, Ryou was pleased that Yuugi allowed him to call him by his first name. His head was spinning with the information he had picked up; he was going to be so far ahead of his fellow students, and he hadn’t even started officially yet!
“Yuugi-kun,” Ryou said and Yuugi nodded. “This tastes wonderful. I never thought of mixing vegetables in with scrambled eggs.”
“It’s my grandfather’s secret recipe to make me eat greens,” Yuugi said, chuckling. “I used to really dislike them when I was younger, and threw a hissy fit every time I found a speck of green on my plate. Jii-chan discovered quickly enough that adding them to my scrambled eggs, all chopped up, made me eat them without kicking up the slightest fuss.”
“How smart.” Ryou was amused. Then he continued, softly: “I don’t want to cause any trouble with your food supplies… I already took a shower this morning. I can pay…”
“I don’t want to hear one more word about it, Bakura-san.” Solomon could raise his voice to an impressive, stern tone if he wanted to. “Enjoy your breakfast and some genuine Earthly hospitality, before you go back to your plastic and steel of your KaibaCorp.”
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Vertregg 12’s spaceport was easy accessible by hover bus and as a KaibaCorp. employee, Ryou’s ride was free of charge. He paid for Yuugi’s ticket before the other could protest.
“I’m sorry if I caused any friction between you and your grandfather,” he said as soon as they sat down. Yuugi told him not to worry, and to stop apologizing. He couldn’t stay angry or frustrated with Ryou; he was a kind and caring person.
“How come you’re so interested in that... how did you call it, that Ceremonial Tablet? And working for Kaiba to boot? He doesn’t seem the type to be interested in ancient artifacts to me.”
“I was rather surprised myself,” Ryou answered. “When I pointed out the similarities between him and the Priest on the stone tablet, he showed very much interest, and before I knew it, I was a KaibaCorp. employee with a research funds that went up and above my greatest expectations. As for my interest in the Ceremonial Tablet… I’m just trying to follow in my father’s footsteps. He took a great interest in history, and he passed that love onto me.”
“That’s great! I had general education, but unfortunately, not much time was spend on history.”
“Have you ever considered going to college?”
“Vertregg 12 doesn’t have colleges,” Yuugi said, “and I didn’t want to leave my grandfather alone, with the Gameshop and all, while I was off studying on some other planet. I may have a simple life, but I’m okay with it.” Until a stranger came along… “This is our stop,” he added lamely when the bus came to a halt. Ryou didn’t ask any further, and stepped out of the bus along with Yuugi. The space port, the hub for all space travel from and to Vertregg 12, was right in front of them. It was just a tall, grey building that mirrored the defeatist, sullen demeanor of the entire planet.
Yuugi knew exactly the docking station of the Datura, so he went ahead. Ryou followed him, checking quickly his PMA for full power. He couldn’t return to Altana without all these treasures of information. Leaving the commercial cargo ships behind them, they entered the docks for private and luxury travel. The LAV stood out, an elegant sight between all the graceless, bulky ships that were docked next to it. Yuugi increased his pace in his enthusiasm and Ryou had to hurry to keep up with him. The side door to the Datura was open and Yuugi tapped on the steel ladder underneath it, the sound resonating through the ship.
“Atemu-kun? Good morning! Are you there?”
Ryou was slightly taken aback by the honorific Yuugi used. It sounded almost too… intimate in this context. Would a Pharaoh really allow others to call him like this, with his first name?
“Yuugi? Come on board!” The voice held more authority than Ryou had ever heard, matching… no, surpassing Kaiba’s even. It was hard to imagine that someone could overpower Kaiba Seto. Adrenaline rushed through him, butterflies whirling around in his stomach.
“No, no, can you come outside, please, Atemu-kun? I have someone with me who would like to meet you.”
Silence. For a moment, Ryou was afraid that the Datura would suddenly take off and speed away. But after a few minutes of ghastly silence, he heard rummaging and other indefinable sounds, before Atemu appeared in the door opening. Ryou gasped from the sheer and utter shock. This was the Pharaoh from the Ceremonial Tablet, no doubt about it. The way he stood there, towering over him, carrying himself like an authority, a god-like creature with a wisdom of ages and centuries, his crimson red eyes bored immediately into Ryou’s, examining his mind, his soul, his very core. He was about to take a step back from the sheer pressure of the first impression, when he noticed something else about the other, just for a second - Atemu’s eyes widened as well.
“Bakura,” he said, his voice grave. “You have found me sooner than I anticipated. You are causing trouble, whenever you arrive.”
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“Jesus fuck.” Malik touched the damaged outer hull of the October almost reverently, his fingers sliding over the jagged edges of the torn alloy. It was like someone had taken a giant can opener and just pulled it along the ship’s side. Tilting his head, he could hear Marik scream all the way over here from the main office of the spaceport; he hadn’t taken kindly to Billun’s old docking system which had caused the damage in the first place. For once, Malik wasn’t on the receiving end of Marik’s wrath, and that suited him just fine. He was getting tired of all that hatred and anger all the time, yet he didn’t know any better. Anger had determined his entire life, and hatred was so omnipresent in his life, that he simply didn’t know what to do without it. Malik straightened himself, and dusted his hands off on his cargo pants. He’d been tasked to assess the damage, and so far it didn’t seem too complicated. No hull breach, no vital engines or parts were broken or destroyed. It was going to be a bitch to repair the plate work though, and Billun didn’t have the capacity for spaceship repair.
He stretched. Other pilots had commented on the obvious damage, but after one look at either Malik’s or Marik’s face, everyone went silent, excusing themselves quickly. Malik always had to keep from snorting out loud. Marik had built the October with his own hands, nobody needed to tell him how to repair his own goddamn ship. He patted his belly. It was getting close to noon, and Marik had been cussing out the spaceport operator all morning. He didn’t need to wait for Marik to have lunch, the other didn’t eat anyway. They had taken in a bunch of excellent supplies while at Wremmoor: cans of delicious soup that only needed to be heated up. Maybe there was a cafeteria around where he could buy himself a loaf of bread to go with the soup. He dug with his hand in his pants pocket, trying to find some genz. He noticed people looking at him and he was about to scowl, until he realized that they were looking at the October. He shook his head. He really had to stop being so tense and worked up all the time. He didn’t even know what ‘relaxing’ was anymore, yet he would love to have some rest in his life. Constant running, hiding and traveling… and it might’ve been different if it weren’t for Marik’s presence. But he couldn’t get away from him, not now, not ever. Marik was tied to his life, and that was bad enough. Suddenly, he got a nasty vibe from staying outside and he went back into the ship, looking for something to eat.
“Fucker!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Not you.” Marik was impatient, as always. “That idiot of a spaceport operator! He claims that there’s nothing wrong with the docking slots and that it was my misjudgment that caused the damage. The nerve of that fucker! My misjudgment! What the fuck are you doing?”
“Unlike you, I have to eat,” Malik answered. “And I’m in the mood for soup.” He looked over at Marik, for once not carrying weapons on display. As a rare occasion, he could see Marik’s synthfuser in plain sight, attached to his belt.
Marik crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Fine, eat your fucking food,” he said. “What about the damage?”
“Just the outer layer, it’s torn. I’ll look at the reports soon.”
“I can’t believe that asshole,” Marik said, still fuming. “Who the fuck operates such outdated technology? We have to go somewhere to get the repairs done.”
“Sure.” Malik took the hot soup out of the heater and blew at the hot liquid. The kitchenette was cramped with two people in it. “When do you want to leave?”
“As soon as you’ve looked over the reports.”
Without another word, Malik took the bowl of soup to his station. He felt Marik’s eyes burning in his back. It was a little moment of defiance, as Marik really hated it when he was eating at his station, but for once, he delivered no comment. Malik sat down and gave the computer the necessary commands to show the internal damage reports. It was only then, that he noticed the small, red light flickering, as well as a warning message on another screen. Marik made him keep track of so many things, that it was almost a two-man job to gather and process all the information from the massive control panels. He read the warning message, and frowned in both surprise and amazement.
“That’s odd. It says here that Bakura’s synthfuser is offline.”
Marik turned his head sharply towards him. “What’s that?”
“Bakura’s synthfuser is offline,” Malik repeated. “How’s that even possible?”
Marik’s brusque shrug wasn’t an uninterested pose as he pretended it to be. “He probably got himself in some kind of godawful mess again. I considered pulling the plug on him so many times.”
“You can restart it from here, can’t you?”
“Yeah, but why would I want to do that?”
“Well, he’s important… and the Pharaoh…”
“Shut your fucking yap about the Pharaoh!” Marik exploded and shook his fist at the other. “He’s not going to tell me whether to jumpstart a synthfuser or not! Let them both rot!”
Malik had all forgotten about his soup. His eyes went quickly over the damage report, which showed the moment of short-circuiting when the October failed to connect with the docking slots, causing the electricity circuit to be interrupted for just five, ten seconds. And in that time, however short it was, every lock to every door of the ship had been open… and the flashing red light indicated that a certain compartment had been opened. Malik started to sweat profusely. He knew how important that compartment was.
“You’re… not going to like this,” he said. His heart started to beat faster from the increasing adrenaline. If he was lucky, the one thing that he feared, hadn’t happened. Five to ten seconds was such a small window of time… but then again, Bakura had been around. It had to be Bakura.
“What’s the matter?” Marik leaned into the console and stared at the screen. “What?”
“This…” Malik pointed at the flashing light. “It has been opened in the split second we lost electricity.”
“What the fu…” Marik’s eyes widened creepily, bulging out of their sockets, and his lips drew into a monstrous snarl. Without another word, he stormed out of the cockpit. Malik got out of his seat and ran after him, through the large hallways of the October. Marik reached the compartment first and frantically entered his code on the touchpad next to the door. It slid open and both men ran inside, and Marik halted so abruptly that Malik slammed into him.
In the exact center of the small room stood a black pillar, supporting a glass display case. Empty. The force field that was supposed to surround the display case, to protect it, was down. In the five seconds for the entire system to short-circuit, the force field had been disabled and failed to reinstate itself after the electricity came back on. Malik felt his knees turning into weak, wobbly goo and he grabbed the doorpost to keep himself from falling over. The most important thing was gone. The most important thing they had been carrying, had been stolen. Bakura. Now he felt like pulling the plug on the thief himself, if someone else hadn’t done so already. Marik stared with such heated intensity at the empty display case that it was frightening. The amount of pure hatred radiating off of him was staggering.
“He took it,” he said. “He took it, that motherfucking whoring son of a bitch!” He balled his hands into fist, and let out an overwhelming, raging, harrowing scream. “Where is he?” he roared.
“I don’t know,” Malik answered, still staring at the display case. Marik grabbed him at the collar and shook him back and forth.
“Bakura! Where is he! Where is that son of a bitch!”
“I don’t know!” Malik repeated, and he got backhanded, Marik’s flat hand slapping him across the face, not holding back. He wanted to howl in pain, but knowing how much that would please Marik, he bit his tongue to keep from screaming. “His ship is still docked at Wremmoor. It has never moved! Now that his synthfuser is disengaged, I can’t keep track of him!”
“His Other,” Marik hissed at him, still shaking. “Where did you say his Other was?”
“Bakura… Ryou?” It was hard to think when being forcefully manhandled like this. “Altana… Planet Kaiba!” Marik let go of him and he fell to the floor, dizzy.
“We’re leaving, immediately!”
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“Jounouchi, this is taking it too far, even for you.” Honda Hiroto looked on nervously while Jounouchi strapped the gurney to the floor of the Time Wizard. “This ship isn’t suited for four people in the cockpit, and it’s dangerous…”
“Just shut up, Honda.” Jounouchi secured the gurney, refusing to look at the young man lying on it. Bakura’s breathing was so slow that it was barely audible.
“I have to agree with Honda,” Otogi said, albeit hesitant. “This man needs medical help. We just can’t take him to Kaiba like this, Jounouchi. This can’t be good.”
“I know that your feathers have been ruffled,” Honda said, only to interrupt his own talking when Jounouchi looked at him, angrily.
“Oh, I’ll show you how much my feathers have been ruffled,” he said. “I’m going to take the problem straight to Kaiba, just like he wants it. I don’t care what you two think.”
“Hey man, I’m sorry security called me first,” Honda said. “And it’s shitty how Kaiba treats you, yes. But you’re putting all our jobs on the line with this stunt of yours.”
“Are you really afraid that Kaiba’s going to fire you?” Jounouchi arched an eyebrow. “The commercial bounty hunting business is booming, you know.” He waited Honda’s answer, but it didn’t come. He laughed humorlessly. “So you really are a Kaiba fanboy?”
“Well, the employee benefits are good,” Honda muttered. Then he stomped Jounouchi against the shoulder. “Moron!”
“I love you too,” Jounouchi said. “I’m going to Yllsen Volta V, guys. If you want to get out of this mess, just get out. I’ll pick you up on the way later.”
“Are you insane?” Honda’s eyes bulged. “I never back out of a trip, no matter how crazy it is!”
Otogi heaved a sigh. “Fine. But if we get into trouble, it’s on your head.”
Jounouchi couldn’t help but grin. They were friends and colleagues, and he appreciated their support. Honda was right - the Time Wizard was too small for four people in the cockpit, let alone a gurney. It was dangerous, because Bakura wasn’t strapped into a seat, he wasn’t buckled down according to general rules and regulations. Jounouchi didn’t want to wait for all the paperwork to be filled out, or apply for a different ship. The Time Wizard was his, and he wasn’t going to abandon it. He wasn’t really sure if he was doing the right thing, though. He was dependent on Kaiba though, for Shizuka’s sake... and Mai’s sake. The two most important women in his life were his responsibility, no matter how much more humiliation he had to suffer. But this… Bakura person, this was different. He was different. Jounouchi never listened to his own intuition; he was more of a gambler, he looked at his chances and decided which one to take. But now… something told him that he had to bring Bakura to Kaiba, even if he didn’t know why. Jounouchi Katsuya never shied away from a bet or a gamble, that was for sure, and going after Kaiba was a big gamble. He was glad that Honda and Otogi got his back. His hand went to the small, rectangular black device that Otogi had pulled from Bakura, after he had collapsed. This thing had been attached to his body, weirdly enough, and it was some kind of technology Jounouchi didn’t recognize - another reason to get Bakura as soon as possible to Kaiba. This Bakura was tied to Malik and the five million genz bounty, and he, Jounouchi, was going to get to the bottom of this.
“Honda,” he said, “plot the course already, will you?” He didn’t await the other’s answer. Jounouchi put the small device back where he found it, and he straightened himself. “We have no time to lose.”
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