Chapter Text
XIII
Consciousness came agonizingly slow to Masumi.
The first of it that she registered was the faint, slightly pinkish-orange light that often comes from looking at the sun through closed eyes. She could not move a single muscle in her body—every inch of her body was numb, even her eyelids; they remained closed as her other senses slowly began to interpret her surroundings.
A pressing sensation enveloped her body, from the back of her neck, both sides of her skull, and all the way down to the heels of her feet. It was the softest kind of firm—or the firmest kind of soft?—telling her straightaway that she wasn't lying on the hard floor of Fuyu's planetarium anymore. Within the all-consuming numbness, Masumi could feel a slight pinching sensation in various points around her chest, along with both wrists and the crook of her right elbow; they almost felt as though something was itching at the skin from the inside.
Had someone taken her home, then? If so, it didn't smell like any home she'd visited—and certainly not her own; the air smelled of far too much disinfectant and rubbing alcohol. No … it was too sterile for anyone to want to live here—not unless they went to insane lengths to keep any germs out of—
And then she heard the faint noise in her right ear, just now coming into sharper detail. Masumi had watched too many medical dramas not to know what it was—or for that matter, where she was right now.
Hospital … she realized.
The heart monitor next to her continued its steady, unrelenting beep-beep-beep, and for the longest time it was all that Masumi chose to hear; the single monotonous sound was causing a flood of images to rage in her mind. They raced at her, jumbled, out of order—the Duel—the city—æmæth—Dr. Grimm—Shaddolls—Hokuto—
The beeping was getting quicker.
Then … it was real, a small voice was beginning to say in Masumi's head. That wasn't a dream … that really happened …
Her eyes snapped open almost without her awareness of the fact; it took her several moments to register the square-tiled plaster ceiling above her, just as sterilized as the rest of the room around her. With great effort, Masumi managed to swivel her eyes enough for her to get a wider view of where exactly she was.
It was definitely a hospital, she now knew; the layout of the space could mean nothing else but that. Beds lay on either side of her, and the size of the room suggested there were more across from her—enough space, she guessed, for half a dozen beds. Each of them had the same stiff mattresses, the same off-white, over-starched sheets—even the same pale blue blankets. There was no sign of either doctors or nurses—they must all be elsewhere, some part of her thought—and if there was a clock, it was out of her field of vision; she had no idea what time it might be, and the blinds had been drawn on the windows, preventing her from seeing any light on the outside world.
Nestled inside each of the pale blue blankets was a person—or at least, the one on Masumi's right. She could only assume the others across the room were occupied as well—for laying next to that bed was the telltale bamboo shinai of Yaiba; the spiky brown hair of its owner stuck outward in all directions. He lay face-up, his eyes closed and unmoving—but Masumi's eyes immediately flicked to the heart monitor above his bed; it, too, was beeping gently.
She sagged in her bed, relieved. He's made it, then … they all made it … She wanted desperately to cheer, to smile, but her body was still unwilling to move …
A few long moments passed before Masumi discovered that some of the numbness in her body was beginning to disappear. She could gradually feel the needles that she now knew had been stuck inside her wrists and her elbow, intravenously injecting fluids into her via the drip chamber next to her bed, and which she could see next to Yaiba's supine form. Moments after that, after taking a deep breath of the sterilized, filtered, processed air of the room, Masumi was aware of the suction cups planted on her chest and stomach, each one fitted with wires that she presumed ran to the heart monitor that was measuring her vitals.
Now what's this? Her restored sense of touch had discovered something most unusual in her left hand—and then only because she had unconsciously flexed her fingers, allowing her to feel the object that had been placed in them. Unable to turn or raise her arm, Masumi—through another herculean effort—managed to feel enough of the object with her fingertips to make an educated guess.
A button?
She pressed it; it made a soft click that nevertheless felt loud in her ear.
Nothing happened.
Masumi waited for a few moments, then pressed it again, then several more times in quick succession—but still nothing happened. She could not fathom what its purpose was, and so, unable to do anything else, Masumi felt she had little choice but to lie back on her stiff mattress and soft-firm pillow to try to put her mind at ease.
That feeling lasted all of sixty seconds before the door to the room burst open with an almighty BANG—and what lay behind it gave a suddenly wide-awake Masumi the biggest shock of her life.
Masumi's father acted almost without thinking.
When he looked back on it later, he still couldn't say for himself whether the total lack of sleep he'd suffered tonight might have had anything to do with what he did. But between the constant fretting, the looming possibility that he might never be able to speak to his daughter again, and the call he'd placed to his wife while she was on night shift, the idea had literally come to him only a few seconds ago. He'd been so distraught that even if he knew it would end up doing more harm than good, he no longer cared—so when a voice from above had literally told him where Masumi was, he'd seized his chance, and leapt out from his seat like a madman.
I just want to see her, he'd kept on saying to himself, over and over again, as he dodged the doctors, nurses, and orderlies that pursued him throughout the hallway, towards the room where he'd heard in passing his only child was staying—ward one thirty-nine, he'd heard the PA system say, paging Doctor Yayoi, ward one-thirty nine—
The sterile walls of the hallway flowed past him as he sprinted past stunned onlookers, doctors and patients alike. His eyes flitted here and there, looking for the room number …
121 … 133 … 139!
His shoes skidded on the waxed tile, and he almost fell over himself as his fumbling hand twisted the doorknob. The instant of his loss of balance had cost him; the door sprang open, kicked open by his stumbling foot, at the exact moment that a pair of the orderlies had caught up to him. Before he knew what was happening, his arms had been pinned behind his back, and he was forced to his knees, which hit the tiled floor hard enough to make him wince—
But just as they'd restrained him, Masumi's father felt their grip slackening—not nearly enough to get free, but enough that it didn't feel nearly so painful when he struggled to get free.
He resisted for a few moments longer before it occurred to him that there had to be a reason why these orderlies weren't fighting back. An instant later, when he looked up at their faces, he noticed their eyes were trained on something directly ahead of them. He followed their gaze—and saw—
" … Father?"
Masumi didn't remember too much about what happened next—only that her father seemed to cross the distance between them in a blur—somehow managing in the process to escape the orderlies' grip in that feat of strength only parents are capable of under extreme periods of stress—and sink to his knees beside her, eyes shining with tears.
"Oh, thank heavens you're awake." He could barely be heard over his sobbing. "When I heard what had happened to you—oh, I was so worried!"
And ignoring all else, he sank his face into Masumi's shoulder—beyond all speech, beyond all control, inconsolable with tearful laughter at the sight of his only child … awake, alive, and armed with a smile as bright as the sun.
Slowly, gently, Masumi raised her arms to the best of her ability, and embraced her bawling father. She refused to let go for a full minute, so happy was she to see him—and so she remained unaware of the growing scene that was unfolding in this increasingly tiny ward as more people streamed in.
One of those people bustled straight for Masumi—a motherly-looking woman in her late thirties that she took to be the doctor in charge of the room. "I don't believe it," she'd managed to gasp out upon seeing her; she, too, looked torn between shock and relieved laughter. "I came in here thinking I'd need to have a nurse replace the batteries in another call button again—but it turns out it was working fine all along!"
Call button … Masumi felt the device she'd been holding in her hand. So something had happened when she'd pressed it after all. It had sent a signal to this doctor, and alerted her to come here—Father must have followed them, she thought, he must have known where I was—
" … How long?" she managed to say. Her throat felt very dry.
"Seven, maybe eight hours," the doctor said, inspecting the drip chamber whose fluids were being introduced into Masumi's body. "The parents of that boy over there called an ambulance to their house last night when they found you unresponsive. All five of you, actually," she added, glancing around the room. "I've never had an emergency where five healthy children fall into a coma for no apparent reason … "
"What's going on here?"
Masumi's head whipped around so quickly that her neck cricked, and the shot of pain that flared up instantly after proved a quick reminder to never move so quickly after having woken up from a coma.
But the sight of a stirring Toudou Yaiba had made Masumi forget about all the pain. "Where are we?" croaked the Synchro user, blinking his bleary eyes, but otherwise apparently unable to move.
A diamond-bright smile plastered itself on the doctor's face. "Oh, wonderful—so you're awake too!" she beamed, immediately crossing over to Yaiba and checking his own vitals, while several white-clad nurses saw to Masumi. "You're in the Maiami City Medical Center—you've been unconscious for the past seven hours or so … "
Her words faded into fog as Masumi gradually began to sit up in her bed, with aid from the nurses. Across the room, she saw Hotene, Shen, and Fuyu—each of them lying face-up in a bed just like her, with IV drips in their arms just like hers. Alone of them, Shen appeared to be showing signs of life; several nurses had seen, and were tending to him now. Hotene and Fuyu, meanwhile, remained lying where they were, completely still—their signs of survival only indicated by the regular pinging noise of their own respective heart monitors.
She slumped in her bed again. They're all okay … she repeated. It had only been seven hours since they'd first fallen asleep—not a terribly long time to be in a coma, but long enough that there might have been—
A sudden jolt coursed through her spine. "Phone," she croaked out. No one appeared to have heard. "I need a phone!" she said more loudly. "Please—it's very important!"
Her father quickly produced his mobile, fingers ready to dial. "Who do you want me to call?"
"Thank you for calling the Leo Duel School," said a cool female voice on the other end of the line. "How can I help you?"
"This is Koutsu Masumi. Could you put me through to Dr. Grimm's office? The number I have isn't working." Masumi had indeed tried the number Wendy had left her two days prior, but had only gotten a dial tone—followed by an unapologetic message stating that the number was no longer in service. That had forced her to call the front office of LDS—which, hopefully, would bear more success.
"Please hold while I transfer your call," said the woman at the reception desk. Masumi, having no other choice, was forced to settle down and listen to the static-laced music that filtered through the speaker of her father's phone.
After the longest sixty seconds she'd ever lived through, she finally heard the line reconnect—but the voice on the other end of the line was not Wendy.
"Masumi … did you not hear the news?" The woman at the reception desk was speaking to her instead, though in a much quieter voice than before—and was Masumi hearing things, or did she sound terrified?
"What do you mean?" An unpleasant sensation began to grow in Masumi's insides.
There was an audible swallow. "Wendy's gone," said the receptionist in a bare whisper. "No one can find her—nobody's even seen her since the night shift late last night. It's like she just vanished from the whole city."
Masumi's jaw dropped. "What?!"
"I don't blame you for being shocked," the receptionist said sympathetically. "You know the chairwoman tried to pay her a visit this morning? Himika-san was in there for only about five seconds, but she did not look happy when she came out. We've been hearing rumors of a police investigation all morning. I think she's suspecting foul play."
Masumi grit her teeth, feeling the sensation in her stomach fester briefly before finally receding. "That sounds about right," she grunted under her breath.
"What was that?"
Masumi thought briefly about telling her what she knew, but a part of her knew that a lowly receptionist, however understanding of her plight she might be, would never believe her; at any rate, if Himika had been to Dr. Grimm's quarters, then it was likely that she'd found something in there, and would probably address the LDS staff and students at any rate later on.
"Never mind," Masumi eventually sighed. She was about to hang up when a thought occurred to her—classes were due to resume tomorrow! There was no way she'd be able to make it back in time after a seven-hour coma!
"Listen," she said, "I'm in hospital right now, and—"
"There's no need to worry," the receptionist said kindly. "They called ahead and filled us in on your situation. We're all glad to hear you're okay, Masumi. Everyone's hoping you all feel better soon."
Masumi couldn't help but smile at that. It felt as though a warm balloon was inflating inside her.
"All right, I should get back to reception before my boss thinks I've taken an early break," the woman said. "I heard Himika-san might want to see you later on in the week."
The balloon suddenly deflated as soon as it had appeared. I thought she might, a suddenly sour Masumi thought. "Thanks for letting me know," she said, managing to sound as carefully neutral as her condition would allow her.
"Of course. Good luck to you!"
"You, too," Masumi murmured. "Bye." And she hung up, returning the mobile to her father with hands that felt as heavy as lead.
"What was that about?" her father asked, looking puzzled.
Masumi didn't know how to answer him. She settled back into her bed, suddenly feeling more tired than when she'd woken up in this room. They were all safe, she knew. Yaiba and Shen, Hotene and Fuyu—they'd Dueled for their lives over the course of this whole night, and had come out the stronger for it.
But Dr. Grimm was still out there, she knew. Someone like her couldn't just vanish. Masumi set her jaw; yes, she thought, as her suddenly heavy eyelids began to close without her meaning to, she's still out there … somewhere …
There wasn't much more Masumi could do after that; she could only wait for her body and mind to return to its full strength. Being in a coma for any length of time, even a matter of hours, carried risks to the victim's body and mind—risks that were further compounded by the strange circumstances that had accompanied them. Fortunately, those same circumstances had been able to help them recover more quickly than anyone had anticipated; indeed, by that afternoon, the doctor in charge of the ward had announced that Masumi and the others were officially out of any further medical danger—though they would still have to remain in hospital until the doctor judged them healthy enough to leave under their own power.
After Masumi had contacted LDS, her father had excused herself from the room after apologizing profusely to the orderlies for causing the scene he had. From there, he'd presumably gone to call everyone else's parents to tell them the good news, because he'd returned five minutes later with Fuyu's parents, Yaiba's parents, and three other people she didn't know, but quickly assumed were Hotene's parents—from how they'd made a beeline for her bed, holding each other tightly as they stared at the still-supine form of their daughter—and Shen's sifu, who'd exchanged a brief, muted conversation in rapid Chinese with his student (in which the Synchro user had glanced at Masumi several times) before briefly embracing him and departing without a word. On his way out, he'd looked at Masumi for a few seconds, nodded in apparent approval, and disappeared out the door before Masumi could say goodbye.
The rest of the day passed by in a blur for Masumi. Not that they didn't go by quickly; it was only that so little happened while she continued to recover that there was little else worth remembering.
Yaiba, who had suffered the effects of Dr. Grimm's psychic powers the least out of the five Duelists, had been the first to be discharged. He'd collected his things on the evening of the day Masumi had first woken up, and stayed just long enough to promise her that he'd visit her after school, before his parents escorted him out of the ward.
As the digital clock near Masumi's bed flicked to 3:00 the next day, Yaiba entered the ward, true to his word—though minus his bamboo shinai. He was walking with a distinctly reduced swagger that made him look vastly different from the cocky Synchro Duelist Masumi had once known.
He sat down beside Masumi, and for a long time neither of them said anything. Finally, Yaiba spoke. "How do you feel?" Something in his voice made Masumi think he wasn't asking about the state of her body.
She slowly sat up; her muscles didn't feel quite so achy—she could move under her own power, but wasn't quite comfortable with taking any steps around the ward unassisted yet. "I … don't know," the Fusion user managed. "I'm glad it's over, but … I'm not really sure."
Yaiba produced a card from his pocket. Inside it was the signatures of what looked like every person in the Fusion circuit—and quite a few from elsewhere as well. "Thanks," Masumi could only say, smiling at the sight of so many names wishing her to get well soon.
She stuck the card on the tiny table next to her bed. "I'm glad you're back on your feet," she said to Yaiba.
The Synchro Duelist sighed. "We were lucky," he muttered—and again, Masumi got the idea that he wasn't just talking about anyone's physical health. "I heard Shen got discharged an hour ago," he said suddenly, nodding to the empty bed that his training partner had occupied until just recently, "and that Fuyu's parents might take him home later today if they give him a clean bill of health."
His eyes lingered upon the sleeping Xyz Duelist for a brief moment before they flicked to another empty bed, in the other corner the room. "They'll have to keep Hotene here for a little longer, though," he said quietly. The tiny Duelist had been transferred to a different room not long after Yaiba had left—Masumi had heard something about Hotene's young age being a factor in recovering from the coma she'd been placed in, to say nothing of the mental torture Dr. Grimm had put her through.
"She'll recover," Yaiba was saying in the meantime, "but after what she got put through, I doubt she'll be going to any trampoline parks for a while. For this to happen, when she was so young … " His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, as if working up the courage to say something—before he sighed. "We were lucky," he said again.
Masumi agreed with him. Watching Hotene being carried out of her bed and onto a gurney like a wet sack of grain had been a disheartening sight—even though she'd known at that point that Hotene wasn't in danger anymore.
"I should never have dragged you guys into this," she said softly, clutching her sides tightly and bowing her head. "This was all my fault."
Yaiba immediately lay a hand on her shoulder. "You never dragged anyone, Masumi," he soothed. "We all wanted to help you. Don't blame yourself for any of this."
He smiled at her—a genuine smile, not his usual devil-may-care smirk—and for some reason, seeing that made Masumi feel a little better about herself. But just as suddenly, though, that dark pit in her stomach had opened again; an image of Dr. Grimm had appeared in her mind—a puppet with green hair, burning with dark fire—as if to taunt her, and remind her yet again that she was still out there, somewhere.
Possibly Yaiba had noticed, because after a long moment of silence, he suddenly spoke up again, "You know … I was thinking, in class today, before I came to see you. Do you remember what the Chairwoman said, Masumi—at the end of the Maiami Championship? 'The next Lancer may be one of you'?"
Masumi thought back to the address Himika had made upon cancelling the tournament—it hadn't even been two weeks since that day, a part of her thought, yet with everything that happened, it felt like two years.
"Yeah," she said. "I remember."
She sat there for a moment longer before the rest of Yaiba's words suddenly sank in. "Wait," she said abruptly. "You're not suggesting we—"
Yaiba held up his hands defensively. "All I'm saying is that someone's got to protect this city when the Lancers aren't around," he said. "We just took out a Duelist with psychic powers from another dimension. I think we could be those protectors. You and me … even Hokuto, if he comes back …
"When he comes back." Masumi's voice was suddenly hard as steel. She didn't know what had come over her—but the events of the dream were still fresh in her mind … as was her memory of Hokuto. More than that, however, Yaiba's suggestion seemed to have lit a fire under her mind; entire new vistas of possibility had suddenly begun to open up before Masumi—glimpses and flashes, like she was viewing the world through the facets of a diamond … a new fighting force against the invaders of Academia … a chance to fight Dr. Grimm once more for revenge …
"He will be back," the Fusion user said resolutely. "We'll see him again, no matter what." She looked Yaiba right in the eye, and the glint she saw in that amber gaze told her everything.
"I'll ask Himika about it as soon as I'm well enough to go back to class," Masumi told him, before adding, "I've got a few things I need to talk to her about anyway," softly enough that Yaiba either didn't hear her or chose not to press the issue. "Yeah," she said more clearly, "we could be her new group of Lancers … "
Yaiba grinned. "Now that sounds like the Masumi I know," he chuckled, before finally standing up. "I'm going to head over to Shen's and practice. I was lucky that I didn't miss any school—but I don't want to get left in the dust. Want me to pick up your homework?" he asked.
Masumi nodded. "I'd like that. See you around," she said, waving at Yaiba, who returned the gesture along with a jaunty salute. He stepped through the door, and was gone.
The thought that Masumi had the potential to become a Lancer sustained her for the next two days of her recovery, as she lay alone in ward one thirty-nine. Almost overnight, it had risen to the forefront of her mind; it had become the one force that drove her every waking moment. Even as she completed her online homework on a computer helpfully supplied by the hospital staff, Masumi found that she could think of nothing else but whether or not she had it in her to become another of Akaba Reiji's elite soldiers.
She'd talked about the subject with Fuyu the previous evening, shortly after he'd been given his own clean bill of health, and before his parents had arrived to take him home. "I don't know if I could do that," he'd rasped to Masumi, his blue eyes so wide that they'd been in danger of falling out of their sockets. "Being a soldier … that's a lot to ask for someone as young as us … "
"Are you worried you won't have what it takes?" Masumi had asked him. "I think Hokuto would—"
But the Xyz Duelist had shaken his head. "I'm more worried about what it'll take out of me," had been his reply—though he'd smiled briefly at the mention of Hokuto's name. "It's just … I can't ever see myself becoming … well, someone like Kurosaki … "
Even now, his words continued to strike a chord with Masumi, knowing what she knew about that battle-hardened Duelist. Since then, she hadn't stopped thinking about Kurosaki's Duel with Shiun'in Sora, and the damage the two Duelists had caused to the Action Field. Perhaps it was true, then, that Sora was another soldier—but what about Kurosaki? Had he been forced to become a soldier as well, in order to fight off other Fusion Duelists like Dr. Grimm? Was this, then, why he'd looked so reluctant to be a part of LDS, in the days leading up to the Maiami Championship—had Reiji press-ganged him into the Lancers after seeing the destruction he was capable of?
As it happened, she didn't have to wait long to find out.
The door to the ward opened presently, admitting a pair of nurses. "Hi there, Masumi!" one of them greeted her. "Good news for you—Dr. Yayoi's given you a clean bill of health!"
Masumi's heart rose. "That's wonderful," she smiled. "Does my father know?"
"We called him shortly before we came up to the ward," the other nurse said, disconnecting Masumi from the drip chamber before gently removing the needles from her arms. "He's at work right now, but he told us it was okay to drop you off at his shop and take you home from there. Is that all right with you?"
"Of course," Masumi replied once the gauze had been bandaged to her skin. She winced as she flexed her arms experimentally, feeling the stings of the needles slowly fading from her skin.
"That's excellent," beamed the nurse. "Just let us know whenever you're ready to leave—we'll have one of the patient transport drivers take you there."
She made a silent "oh!" "By the way," she added, "you have a visitor."
Masumi, however, did not need to know that—she'd come to that same conclusion as soon as she'd locked eyes with the person who'd just appeared on the threshold of the door.
The ice-blue stare of Akaba Himika was as frosty as ever, but today something else lurked inside them besides their cold fire. The iciness of her gaze seemed … softer, now—almost contrite, Masumi wanted to think—but it was the last thing on her mind right now.
The nurses, noticing Masumi's sudden silence, turned to see who she was looking at, and promptly jumped. "H-Himika-san!" one of them managed to stammer out. "We … assumed you'd be waiting for Masumi in the visitor's area!"
"It's a bit too noisy out there for my liking," the Chairwoman of LDS said coolly. Her eyes did not move a millimeter from Masumi's own. "I'm not exactly here on a social call, and I'd been hoping to speak to Masumi in some degree of privacy." Her stare briefly flickered to the nurses. "If you would excuse us, please?"
The nurses exchanged nervous glances with one another before nodding. "We'll wait outside the ward," the senior of the pair said. "We'll put a privacy filter around the door."
"Thank you," Himika said, nodding once to the two nurses before they disappeared out the door—leaving Masumi alone with the most powerful woman in all of Maiami City.
Neither of them spoke for what felt like a long time. Masumi was wrestling with a full dozen different questions in her mind, unsure as to which one she ought to ask first. Yet Himika, too—much to her surprise—seemed as though she was also holding something back; she was chewing her tongue, and her brow kept furrowing and unfurrowing every few seconds.
It was Himika, eventually, who decided to speak first. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better," she said. "I spoke with the front desk after you first contacted them three days ago. I imagine you heard the news from them?"
Masumi nodded. "Dr. Grimm was behind the alterations to the database, then?" she asked.
"System security was able to trace the IP address behind the changes to a personal laptop computer in her lodgings on the third floor," replied Himika. "This was not some spur-of-the-moment decision—she planned this out carefully. She didn't use a computer registered to LDS, and she wiped her tracks very thoroughly. In fact," she added grimly, "I think the only reason Dr. Grimm didn't get away with it was that she was using the building network to make the changes. Once she realized we'd driven her into a corner, she had no choice but to flee."
Masumi had been biting her tongue for the longest time—she had to say her piece. "She didn't flee because of that."
Himika looked up sharply. "What do you mean by that? Are you saying you know something about Wendy Grimm that I don't?"
The Fusion user bit her lip. "Before I tell you, there's something I'd like you to tell me." She looked Himika in the eye. "I think I deserve to know."
The chairwoman of LDS stared back at her without so much as flinching, and for a dangerous few seconds Masumi worried that she might chew her out for her backtalk.
But surprisingly, Himika relented. "I suppose you do," she said. "Go ahead, then. I won't hold anything back."
Masumi got to her feet, still staring at her headmistress. "Tell me everything you know … about Kurosaki Shun."
Over the course of the next half hour, that was exactly what Himika did—and true to her word, she did not hold anything back. In those thirty minutes, Masumi learned more than she'd ever wanted to learn about Kurosaki Shun, Shiun'in Sora … and too many other things to name. She learned of the four parallel dimensions—the Standard, where she lived, along with three others, each devoted to a specific type of Extra Deck monster: Fusion, Synchro … and Xyz, which Masumi now knew to be the ravaged home of Kurosaki. She learned how Academia ruled over the Fusion Dimension with an iron fist, and that others like Gwendolyn Grimm sought to unite these dimensions for reasons as unclear as whatever means might be necessary to achieve such a goal. And finally, Masumi learned that Himika's son, along with the Lancers he commanded, were currently in the Synchro Dimension, presumably to find a way to fight off the threat of Academia.
When at last Himika finished speaking, Masumi found herself with a massive headache. All this had been too much to take in. She'd had to steady herself simply to keep from falling off the bed in shock. It had been enough that Kurosaki, the same Duelist who had defeated the best of LDS in one fell swoop, had later become their ally—and all it had cost Reiji and Himika was the precious memories of the three top Duelists in their school.
She had pointed this out to Himika in barely-restrained anger; the chairwoman had barely flinched at all but for a tired sigh. "My son was … well aware of the destruction that Kurosaki was capable of causing," she said. "Your memories of him were erased because he had left us with no other choice. Considering the Duel he put on against you, Yaiba, and Hokuto, you would no longer have seen him as your friend—and Kurosaki has been through too much to be able to distinguish the subtle gradations between friends and enemies."
"So which ones are we, then?" Masumi said, before she could stop herself. "You took away our memories! You made us live a lie! What kinds of friends do that to one another—what kind of friends let that happen?!"
Himika did not blink. "As I said, there are subtle gradations. Given what has happened in the time since, I am … willing to acknowledge, in hindsight, that altering your memories of Kurosaki was not necessary, since he ultimately proved himself loyal to our cause. Think of me what you will—but." Her eyes narrowed, and her voice gained an edge that fell just short of openly hostile. "I remain your headmistress. You would do well to remember that."
She exhaled. "That is twice I have helped you, now. You have already helped me once, however inadvertently, by alerting me to the underhanded tactics of Gwendolyn Grimm. I will make sure that you are commended for this, if you wish it. But if you want to move one step closer to being a … friend with me, then you must help me once more, and tell me everything you know about her."
And so it was Masumi's turn to talk, now; the words spilled from her mouth in an unending torrent, from her first moments of the dream that haunted her and the Shaddoll monsters that she faced inside them, to her sessions with Wendy, her encounters with Hotene, Shen, and Fuyu—and last but by no means least, the final Duel in which Masumi had finally broken her hold over Dr. Grimm and her psychic powers.
By the time Masumi was done talking, her throat was quite dry, and Himika took the opportunity to get in edgewise when she reached for a glass of water on her bedside table. "Masumi," she said slowly, "what you and your friends have had to face over these past few days is far beyond what most Duelists could handle in their entire careers. For that, you have my admiration—and if I say so myself, I think if Reiji was here to listen to everything you just told me, he would have recommended all of you for the Lancers in a heartbeat."
Only the knowledge of who she was talking to kept Masumi from spitting out her water in shock. "T-the Lancers?" she spluttered. "I mean … I remember what you said after you cancelled the tournament—'the next Lancer may be one of you'. Yaiba and I talked about that a couple days ago, even." She wiped her mouth. "Do you think I'm—?"
"I'm not making any promises," Himika said to her, "but the Lancers are the Lancers because they faced a challenge above and beyond what was expected of them. They were given the chance to participate in a tournament—instead, they had the honor of saving our city from invasion. You, Masumi, put together a counterstrategy to fight against a Deck you'd never seen in your life, recruited Duelists you'd never known in your life to make said counterstrategy work—and fought powers you'd never before known were possible." She leaned in close. "And you won."
Masumi had no idea what to say.
"Obviously, I can't speak for you or Reiji," Himika said, "but I think the Lancers would be impressed by that."
Masumi still had no idea what to say.
At length, Himika stood up, perhaps sensing the Fusion user's total loss for words. "On that note, I think I should be off, now," she said. "My offer remains on the table, Masumi. Take it at your leisure—discuss it with your friends, if you feel the need. And"—a strangely serene smile appeared on her face—"if a time ever comes when you should decide to prove your worth to me, stop by my office, and we'll discuss your … career opportunities from there."
She rose from her seat. "Until then," she said, the smile having vanished as quickly as it had appeared, "I expect to see you back in class tomorrow morning, Masumi." She inclined her head. "Good day."
The chairwoman of LDS turned on her heel, and swept out of the door before Masumi had a chance to collect her very confused thoughts.
Ten minutes later, having changed out of her hospital nightgown and back into her regular clothes, Masumi left closed ward one thirty-nine with a slightly springier step than she'd remembered having in a while. Maybe there had been a time where she'd felt this way once—maybe before the Maiami Championship, or even before her visit to You Show, where everything had started—but it seemed so long ago now that Masumi could no longer say for certain.
Himika's words were still ringing through her head as she told the nurses she'd be ready to leave momentarily—although not without making one last stop. Masumi knew that, with her fifteenth birthday coming closer and closer by the day, that she would have to make a choice in her life—seek a peaceful life in the city under the tutelage of her father … or fight for the chance to live that life so that no invader would dare disrupt it again.
For now, though, she would take the chairwoman's offer under advisement—and her first source of advice was on the other side of the door that the nurses were leading her into.
"Hiya, Masu-chan!"
Masumi couldn't help but crack a grin; even after everything Menoko Hotene had been through—after being tortured to near-insanity, conditioned into the slave of a psychopath, and resuscitated from a coma, all at nine years old—the tiny Duelist was still smiling.
"I'm glad to see you're doing okay," Masumi said gently, perching herself on the chair next to Hotene's bed—or rather, the mass of stuffed animals that littered the bed; Hotene's perpetual grin was barely visible between a sleek otter and a chibi-style pig. "I was worried about you when they had you moved to a different ward—I don't think there's any denying that out of all of us, you got hurt the worst from Dr. Grimm."
"Mm," Hotene shrugged nonchalantly, unable to say much more owing to the huge scoop of ice cream she'd just shoveled into her wide mouth. "You made it all better, though, dincha? She won't hurt us, 'cause you beat her."
"I suppose she won't," Masumi said, rather softer than she'd intended, "and I suppose I did." But something was telling her otherwise; Dr. Grimm had made sure that none of their lives would ever be the same from here on out. For good or for ill, this was only the beginning of a long road ahead—no matter how much anyone tried to hide it.
Hotene tore her gaze from the tufted ears of a stuffed kitten she'd been examining. "You okay, Masu-chan? You don't sound too good."
"Don't worry, I'm fine," Masumi lied. Then, a moment later, "Hotene … can I ask you something?"
"You just did," giggled the tiny Duelist, earning a tinkling laugh from Masumi as she realized the joke. "So what's up?"
"Well," Masumi said, wondering how best to explain her predicament to a nine-year-old girl, "imagine that you've got a pretty happy life. You're doing great at school, you've got great friends to spend time with, and you've got a great future ahead of you. But then something happens to you that makes you wonder if you're happy with your life as things are right now—or if you want to look at something new for a change … to find out if it makes you even happier than you are today."
Hotene wolfed down another mountain of ice cream before she finally spoke. "Trying new things is good," she said. "The nurse lady said I could have all the ice cream I wanted while they made me better—but she said this was the only kind they had, an' I never had it before. So I tried it, an' I liked it!" She extricated the remains of her bowl from the nest of stuffed animals. "Want some? I bet you never tried it either!"
Masumi raised her eyebrow as she accepted the bowl. "They let you have ice cream after what just happened to you?" she asked. "That … doesn't seem safe." I hope they at least had the sense to make sure it was sugar-free, she thought.
"The nurse lady said it was a lot safer than jumping on the bed, too," Hotene said, pouting as Masumi did a double take. "I miss Trampo-Land," she said. "I wish I didn't have to stay here, so I could go back there."
"That could be a while, Hotene," Masumi said. "That coma took a lot out of you—and you're younger than any of us. It could be weeks before you're ready to go back to that place."
Suddenly, her face split in a grin. "But when you do, I'll be waiting for you—and next time, I'm going to be ready to beat you!"
It was Hotene's turn to do a double take. Her wide blue eyes bugged as she took in the challenging look on Masumi's face—before she broke out into another fit of the giggles.
"You're so funny, Masu-chan!" she gasped out. "Still thinking you can beat me in a Duel!"
Masumi rolled her eyes, not even bothering to hide her smile.
Idly, she took a bite of the ice cream Hotene had been eating, not really bothering to look at what flavor it might have been—and was pleasantly surprised to taste vanilla with a hint of pineapple. Whether it was sugar-free or not, she couldn't tell, but the taste had been unexpected. Not in a bad way, though.
"I think I could get used to this," she muttered as she took another bite.
It wasn't until later, when Masumi was about to say good-bye to Hotene, that she began to wonder if she might have been talking about more than just the ice cream. She would indeed have to make a choice in her life—about whether to accept Himika's offer and become a Lancer, or to continue her life as a student and a jeweler-in-training.
Granted, the choice wouldn't be nearly as easy as trying out a different food or flavor, as Hotene had said, but it was still a choice all the same. Choices came with change, and change would never come easy. The best she could do was to make her choice when the time came, and adapt to the changes that came with it—and perhaps, Masumi thought, the choice she ended up making would change her life for the better. Regardless of what choice she picked, though, she knew that she would never know until she tried.
… But, she thought, after seeing the cloudless sky on the other side of Hotene's window, she didn't have to try today, either.
"I'm going to head out now, Hotene," Masumi said, embracing what little of the tiny Duelist she could through all the stuffed animals. "I'll meet my father at work, and see if I can't get him to take the rest of the day off. I want to enjoy this nice day before I have to go back to class"—before I have to think about where to go from here, she added in her head. "Maybe I'll go to Trampo-Land myself, so I can practice for Dueling you again, huh?"
"You can practice all you want, Masu-chan!" Hotene retorted, giggling madly. "I'm still gonna beat you, an' I'm still gonna be the best Fusion Duelist in LDS!"
It was Masumi's turn to giggle. "Didn't you hear me last night, Hotene?" she smiled at her. "I'm the best Fusion Duelist who's ever walked through LDS—and the next time I Duel you, I'm going to show you why."
"And that"—she winked, before disappearing out of Hotene's room—before stepping out of the hospital, into Maiami City, and into whatever new life awaited her in the future—"is the truth."
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In another section of the city, deep below its most recognizable structure, someone was placing a call. Once the dial tone sounded, then twice, and finally three times before the call connected.
"It's me." The two words of the speaker conveyed a tone of simultaneous influence and urgency—the archetypal chief executive who reported to superiors of their own, somewhere in the shadows.
"This connection is not secure." This particular superior, though his voice was much softer than that of the person who was contacting him, managed to radiate even more power. "Talk quickly, or you may be discovered."
"I'm sorry I couldn't get back to you earlier." There was a single second of hesitation—just one—but enough for him to choose his words carefully. "Agent 139 has been compromised."
"Recalled without further incident," corrected the voice on the other end of the line. "Her injuries were extensive—a complete neural reconstruction may be impossible—but she was able to deliver her final report without any further complications." A pause. "Do they still believe she acted alone?"
"They are certain of her connection to Academia," the speaker said. There was a touch of smugness to his voice. "But they have no reason to consider the possibility that she had help. Thanks to her, phase one is now complete."
"That is a risk we cannot take," his superior said solemnly. "My sources say that complications have arisen in the City." He could practically hear the capital letter emphasized in the single word. "You must be prepared to act at a moment's notice—and be prepared for a quick getaway when you do. I'm counting on you to give us the results we need, Agent 322."
Agent 322 snuck a sidelong glance behind him before he next spoke. "Understood … Professor. I'll begin testing immediately." Less than a second later, the call disconnected, leaving behind nothing of the Professor's orders but echoes in his mind, which had already committed them to heart.
There being no further use for them, the privacy screens that surrounded the room were deactivated. Smoky black glass evaporated into its normal clear panes, while the sonic masks and electronic interference that had muffled any words a curious observer might have wanted to overhear switched themselves off at the press of a button.
Agent 322 now rose from his seat, staring out of his darkened office into the gigantic testing chamber on the other side of the glass wall. He admired the many personnel going about their business, along with all the machines and technology that the Leo Corporation had yet to release to the world at large.
It was one such machine, however, that demanded the most of his attention: a seemingly unassuming slab of black glass, exactly nine feet tall, another four wide, and precisely twelve inches deep, situated in the exact center of this enormous technological cave. A single bright light began to shimmer from within the exact center of this machine, shining with all known colors on the spectrum, yet none at all, to rousing cheers from the technicians working on it.
Hours seemed to pass by before Agent 322 finally tore his eyes from the sight, and turned his attention to the pair of cards in his pocket—cards that he himself had had a hand in designing.
The Golem may have been more subtle in her work, he thought to himself, as he stroked the green-and-yellow edges of those cards, but I am much more efficient in mine.
What she nearly did to five children with sixty cards … I can do to five continents with two …
List of fic-exclusive cards (chapter of debut appearance in parentheses):
Extra Onslaught – Action Card (VI)
Each time you Special Summon a monster(s) from the Extra Deck: Draw 1 card. During the End Phase of the turn this card was activated: Take 500 damage for each monster you Special Summoned from the Extra Deck this turn.
Tranquility – Action Card (VI)
Target 1 monster your opponent controls; its original ATK is halved until the End Phase of the turn.
Cosmo Salvo – Action Card (VII)
Inflict 500 damage to your opponent for each Spell Card activated this turn (including this card).
Shaddoll Snake (DARK/Spellcaster-Type/Level 2/ATK 900/DEF 100) (X)
FLIP: You can target 1 Shaddoll card in your Graveyard; shuffle it into the Deck.
If this card is sent to the Graveyard by a card effect: You can add it to your hand, but banish it during the End Phase if it was used as Fusion Material for a Summon. You must have a Shaddoll monster in your Graveyard to activate and to resolve this effect. You can only use 1 Shaddoll Snake effect per turn, and only once that turn.
Skill Fusion – Normal Trap Card (X)
If you control 2 or more Fusion Monsters, you can activate this card from your hand. Fusion Summon 1 Fusion Monster from your Extra Deck, by using monsters from the field or your hand as Fusion Materials. During either player's turn: You can banish this card from your Graveyard; Fusion Summon 1 Fusion Monster from your Extra Deck, by banishing monsters from the field or your Graveyard as Fusion Materials. You can only use each effect of Skill Fusion once per turn.
Shadow of Fusion – Normal Trap Card (X, XI)
During the turn this card is activated: You can make any attacks made by Fusion Monsters you control become direct attacks. During your Main Phase: You can banish this card from your Graveyard; this turn, any attacks made by Fusion Monsters you control become direct attacks. You can only use 1 effect of Shadow of Fusion per turn, and only once that turn.
Saber Deflect – Normal Trap (XII)
When an opponent's monster declares an attack, if you control an X-Saber monster: You can target 1 monster your opponent controls, except the attacking monster; the attacking monster attacks it instead, and you proceed to damage calculation. Cards and effects cannot be activated in response to this card's activation. During the End Phase that this card was activated: Shuffle 1 X-Saber monster you control into the Deck.
Sacred Burst – Quick-Play Spell (XII)
Banish up to 3 Sacred monsters from your Graveyard, then target an equal number of face-up cards your opponent controls; negate their effects until the end of the turn.