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"You know what would be funny? If DSoD happened post-Aather. That'd be pretty funny."
JOKE'S ON ME, I WROTE 1600 WORDS
“Oh, please. You knew! Don’t pretend that you didn’t! Why are you getting so upset about this now?”
They didn’t fight like this very much anymore, and frankly, Shes was finding that he hadn’t missed it. He also hadn’t missed existing in a nebulous space between planes of reality that seemed to contain nothing but sand and darkness, but that was less important in the long run. These things happened. Getting into a screaming argument with his former host… didn’t. Generally. Not since he’d come back.
But here they are.
Ryou’s eyes are red and his cheeks were wet, but his expression is pure fury. He’d always been an angry crier. “I didn’t know, I assumed!”
“And that’s different how?”
“I didn’t know he had a family!”
They both freeze. The words had burst from Ryou seemingly all at once, and from his startled look, he wasn’t expecting them any more than Shes was. He had a fucking family? Ah, Shes thinks, distantly, there’s the rage. He can feel it bubbling up inside him, familiar and choking. There’s a million things that hang heavy in the air between them, all unsaid. For a long moment they just stare at each other.
“I didn’t—“ Ryou begins, but Shes is already in his face, stepping forward with teeth bared.
“Let me tell you a secret,” he hisses, low and dangerous. “Turns out there’s nobody in the entire fucking universe who doesn’t have some sort of bond with anyone else. Oh, wait, you already know that one, too! Wow, it’s almost like you’re having memory issues today, what’s with that?”
Ryou sands his ground, expression hardening. “Don’t be petty.”
“Oh, I’m being petty?”
“I think I’m allowed to be upset if I find out new information about the murder of a man when— when I was the murder weapon!”
At that, Shes laughs. It’s an ugly sound, and he hates it, recognizing how he’s falling into old habits but unable — unwilling? — to stop. He takes a step back and spreads his arms wide. “Is that it? You want to know more about what I did in your body? Fine. Did I ever tell you what it felt like to shove my fingers into Pegasus’ eye socket? It was difficult, see, because the Eye can’t quite squish like a normal one would, and—“
Ryou doesn’t slap him. He hadn’t even realized he’d been waiting for it until it failed to happen. Instead, Ryou just stands there, his mouth pressed into a thin line and his hands curled into fists at his sides. And suddenly Shes doesn’t know what to do.
“Are you done?” Ryou asks. His voice is quiet, a stark contrast to the shouting they’d both been engaging in.
Shes mentally tries out several replies and forces himself to discard each one in turn. Finally, he finds one that sounds right on his tongue. “I don’t regret it. I’m never going to regret it. So I don’t get why you’re apologizing to some asshole who attacked you when it’s not even your fault.” It comes out sounding sulkier than he’d like.
Ryou sighs and scrubs his sleeve over his face. When he drops his arm, his face is still all blotchy, but the tears are more or less gone. “How would you have felt if Atem had apologized?”
And that’s worse than a slap, it really is. “That’s a shitty comparison,” he manages.
“Yup. But I think it makes my point pretty well.”
Silence falls again. Shes stares at the roiling darkness surrounding them on all sides. Ryou scuffs the toe of his shoe in the sand, seemingly fixated on the movement of each individual grain. I hate this, Shes thinks, much to his own surprise. He’s still thrown, sometimes, by his own emotional reactions to things. It makes him realize how much he didn’t feel before, and that’s a train of thought he doesn’t need right now. Or, if he has his way, ever.
Ryou’s the one who eventually breaks the silence, because of course he is. “This is stupid. Argument suspended until after we deal with, um.” He gestures vaguely at their surroundings. “All this. Truce?”
“Truce,” Shes agrees. He hopes it sounds more grudging than relieved, but he’s not sure he succeeds.
—
“I can’t believe that guy used the Ring against me. How is that even allowed? How the hell is it possible that he even had it in the first place? This doesn’t make any fucking sense.”
“Mm, I’m more concerned about the cube that Aigami was using. It almost felt like—“
“No.”
“It did, though.”
“If there was an eighth Millennium Item, I would fucking know, all right?”
—
In the end, they’re saved by Yuugi, which is pretty humiliating. And then they’re saved again by Atem, and holy shit, that’s so much worse.
“I didn’t even get to punch him,” Shes groans, flopping onto the couch dramatically and draping an arm over his eyes.
Malik, who’s sitting on the other end of the couch, scoffs without even looking at him. “Like you failing at something where the Pharaoh’s concerned is news. Shut up and let us grownups talk.”
Shes sits up and flips him off.
Across from them, two pairs of eyes flick back and forth between them. Sara looks apprehensive but considering, which is better than Diva, who mostly just seems to be torn between making a run for the nearest exit and launching himself at Shes in an attempt to strangle him with his bare hands. Personally, Shes hopes he tries the latter.
There’s a polite cough from the video chat screen being projected from the tablet on the table. “As I was saying,” Ishizu continues smoothly, “of the items, only the Puzzle seems to still be missing. I have my suspicions as to its whereabouts—“
Malik coughs something that sounds suspiciously like “Kaiba” into his fist.
“—but nothing’s been confirmed yet. I suggest that we move on to the subject of this ‘Dimensional Cube.’”
Diva sits up a little straighter at that, and exchanges an unreadable glance with his sister. It’s Sara who speaks. “The Prana is willing to answer whatever questions we can. However, our knowledge is limited to what Master Shin was able to pass on to us before…” She hesitates.
“Before he was murdered,” Diva finishes, his gaze fixed on Shes.
Malik leans forwards, elbows resting on his knees and chin propped up on his interlaced fingers. His smile is sweet and knife-sharp. “I’m very interested in your claim that Shadi was keeping an eighth Millennium Item hidden from the rest of the clan.”
And that’s it, any amusement Shes could wring out of this situation is gone. “There isn’t an eighth Item,” he says flatly. Malik’s eyes flick to him, but he doesn’t say anything, tacit permission for Shes to continue. “The ritual was for seven. I would know.” He hesitates, because what the fuck is he supposed to say? That his certainty has the weight of Zorc Necrophades behind it? That he’d personally bled out on top of the sarcophagus with seven goddamn slots? The same one that Shadi and a bunch of kids would sit around three thousand years later while he seethed in his golden prison?
In the end, he just repeats himself: “I would know.”
“Are you calling Master Shin a liar?” Diva demands, halfway jumping out of his seat before Sara’s concerned gaze and hand on his arm causes him to freeze. He looks like a hunting dog tugging at its leash, lips pulled back in a snarl.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Malik murmurs, and Shes has a moment where he wonders if these kids know, really know who they’re talking to. The current and final leader of the Tombkeepers, the one who had witnessed the Pharaoh’s departure to the afterlife at long last, certainly. But the mastermind behind the Ghouls, a man with so much rage that he tore himself in half, who’d fought tooth and nail against his destiny because it wasn’t fucking fair? Who very nearly succeeded at killing that same Pharaoh and destroying himself in the process because of Shadi-motherfucking-Shin’s manipulations?
Probably not, Shes decides, and squashes the sudden urge to kiss Malik. Instead, he grins at Diva, showing plenty of teeth. Hunting dog, meet jackal. “Lying? Perish the fucking thought,” he drawls, leaning against the arm of the couch and drawing on every ounce of Kunzite in his being. “I’m just saying that the Cube didn’t come from Kul Elna.”
Oh, Ishizu knows where he going with this, and she doesn’t look happy. They both know it’s more likely that whatever the Cube is, it isn’t a true Millennium Item, but Shes isn’t going to let that stop him as he plows onwards.
“Which begs a very important question: which, oh, what would it be, fourteen and a half people? Which fourteen and a half people did he use as living sacrifices to the darkness to make the damn thing?”
There’s a moment of absolute silence.
Shes goes in for the kill. He pitches his voice like fucking honey as he looks Diva straight in the eye. “How many kids did he take in before you?”
He’s going to have hell to pay later, but for a single moment, all the shit this whole Cube incident caused is completely worth it just to see the look on Diva's face.
JOKE'S ON ME, I WROTE 1600 WORDS
“Oh, please. You knew! Don’t pretend that you didn’t! Why are you getting so upset about this now?”
They didn’t fight like this very much anymore, and frankly, Shes was finding that he hadn’t missed it. He also hadn’t missed existing in a nebulous space between planes of reality that seemed to contain nothing but sand and darkness, but that was less important in the long run. These things happened. Getting into a screaming argument with his former host… didn’t. Generally. Not since he’d come back.
But here they are.
Ryou’s eyes are red and his cheeks were wet, but his expression is pure fury. He’d always been an angry crier. “I didn’t know, I assumed!”
“And that’s different how?”
“I didn’t know he had a family!”
They both freeze. The words had burst from Ryou seemingly all at once, and from his startled look, he wasn’t expecting them any more than Shes was. He had a fucking family? Ah, Shes thinks, distantly, there’s the rage. He can feel it bubbling up inside him, familiar and choking. There’s a million things that hang heavy in the air between them, all unsaid. For a long moment they just stare at each other.
“I didn’t—“ Ryou begins, but Shes is already in his face, stepping forward with teeth bared.
“Let me tell you a secret,” he hisses, low and dangerous. “Turns out there’s nobody in the entire fucking universe who doesn’t have some sort of bond with anyone else. Oh, wait, you already know that one, too! Wow, it’s almost like you’re having memory issues today, what’s with that?”
Ryou sands his ground, expression hardening. “Don’t be petty.”
“Oh, I’m being petty?”
“I think I’m allowed to be upset if I find out new information about the murder of a man when— when I was the murder weapon!”
At that, Shes laughs. It’s an ugly sound, and he hates it, recognizing how he’s falling into old habits but unable — unwilling? — to stop. He takes a step back and spreads his arms wide. “Is that it? You want to know more about what I did in your body? Fine. Did I ever tell you what it felt like to shove my fingers into Pegasus’ eye socket? It was difficult, see, because the Eye can’t quite squish like a normal one would, and—“
Ryou doesn’t slap him. He hadn’t even realized he’d been waiting for it until it failed to happen. Instead, Ryou just stands there, his mouth pressed into a thin line and his hands curled into fists at his sides. And suddenly Shes doesn’t know what to do.
“Are you done?” Ryou asks. His voice is quiet, a stark contrast to the shouting they’d both been engaging in.
Shes mentally tries out several replies and forces himself to discard each one in turn. Finally, he finds one that sounds right on his tongue. “I don’t regret it. I’m never going to regret it. So I don’t get why you’re apologizing to some asshole who attacked you when it’s not even your fault.” It comes out sounding sulkier than he’d like.
Ryou sighs and scrubs his sleeve over his face. When he drops his arm, his face is still all blotchy, but the tears are more or less gone. “How would you have felt if Atem had apologized?”
And that’s worse than a slap, it really is. “That’s a shitty comparison,” he manages.
“Yup. But I think it makes my point pretty well.”
Silence falls again. Shes stares at the roiling darkness surrounding them on all sides. Ryou scuffs the toe of his shoe in the sand, seemingly fixated on the movement of each individual grain. I hate this, Shes thinks, much to his own surprise. He’s still thrown, sometimes, by his own emotional reactions to things. It makes him realize how much he didn’t feel before, and that’s a train of thought he doesn’t need right now. Or, if he has his way, ever.
Ryou’s the one who eventually breaks the silence, because of course he is. “This is stupid. Argument suspended until after we deal with, um.” He gestures vaguely at their surroundings. “All this. Truce?”
“Truce,” Shes agrees. He hopes it sounds more grudging than relieved, but he’s not sure he succeeds.
—
“I can’t believe that guy used the Ring against me. How is that even allowed? How the hell is it possible that he even had it in the first place? This doesn’t make any fucking sense.”
“Mm, I’m more concerned about the cube that Aigami was using. It almost felt like—“
“No.”
“It did, though.”
“If there was an eighth Millennium Item, I would fucking know, all right?”
—
In the end, they’re saved by Yuugi, which is pretty humiliating. And then they’re saved again by Atem, and holy shit, that’s so much worse.
“I didn’t even get to punch him,” Shes groans, flopping onto the couch dramatically and draping an arm over his eyes.
Malik, who’s sitting on the other end of the couch, scoffs without even looking at him. “Like you failing at something where the Pharaoh’s concerned is news. Shut up and let us grownups talk.”
Shes sits up and flips him off.
Across from them, two pairs of eyes flick back and forth between them. Sara looks apprehensive but considering, which is better than Diva, who mostly just seems to be torn between making a run for the nearest exit and launching himself at Shes in an attempt to strangle him with his bare hands. Personally, Shes hopes he tries the latter.
There’s a polite cough from the video chat screen being projected from the tablet on the table. “As I was saying,” Ishizu continues smoothly, “of the items, only the Puzzle seems to still be missing. I have my suspicions as to its whereabouts—“
Malik coughs something that sounds suspiciously like “Kaiba” into his fist.
“—but nothing’s been confirmed yet. I suggest that we move on to the subject of this ‘Dimensional Cube.’”
Diva sits up a little straighter at that, and exchanges an unreadable glance with his sister. It’s Sara who speaks. “The Prana is willing to answer whatever questions we can. However, our knowledge is limited to what Master Shin was able to pass on to us before…” She hesitates.
“Before he was murdered,” Diva finishes, his gaze fixed on Shes.
Malik leans forwards, elbows resting on his knees and chin propped up on his interlaced fingers. His smile is sweet and knife-sharp. “I’m very interested in your claim that Shadi was keeping an eighth Millennium Item hidden from the rest of the clan.”
And that’s it, any amusement Shes could wring out of this situation is gone. “There isn’t an eighth Item,” he says flatly. Malik’s eyes flick to him, but he doesn’t say anything, tacit permission for Shes to continue. “The ritual was for seven. I would know.” He hesitates, because what the fuck is he supposed to say? That his certainty has the weight of Zorc Necrophades behind it? That he’d personally bled out on top of the sarcophagus with seven goddamn slots? The same one that Shadi and a bunch of kids would sit around three thousand years later while he seethed in his golden prison?
In the end, he just repeats himself: “I would know.”
“Are you calling Master Shin a liar?” Diva demands, halfway jumping out of his seat before Sara’s concerned gaze and hand on his arm causes him to freeze. He looks like a hunting dog tugging at its leash, lips pulled back in a snarl.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Malik murmurs, and Shes has a moment where he wonders if these kids know, really know who they’re talking to. The current and final leader of the Tombkeepers, the one who had witnessed the Pharaoh’s departure to the afterlife at long last, certainly. But the mastermind behind the Ghouls, a man with so much rage that he tore himself in half, who’d fought tooth and nail against his destiny because it wasn’t fucking fair? Who very nearly succeeded at killing that same Pharaoh and destroying himself in the process because of Shadi-motherfucking-Shin’s manipulations?
Probably not, Shes decides, and squashes the sudden urge to kiss Malik. Instead, he grins at Diva, showing plenty of teeth. Hunting dog, meet jackal. “Lying? Perish the fucking thought,” he drawls, leaning against the arm of the couch and drawing on every ounce of Kunzite in his being. “I’m just saying that the Cube didn’t come from Kul Elna.”
Oh, Ishizu knows where he going with this, and she doesn’t look happy. They both know it’s more likely that whatever the Cube is, it isn’t a true Millennium Item, but Shes isn’t going to let that stop him as he plows onwards.
“Which begs a very important question: which, oh, what would it be, fourteen and a half people? Which fourteen and a half people did he use as living sacrifices to the darkness to make the damn thing?”
There’s a moment of absolute silence.
Shes goes in for the kill. He pitches his voice like fucking honey as he looks Diva straight in the eye. “How many kids did he take in before you?”
He’s going to have hell to pay later, but for a single moment, all the shit this whole Cube incident caused is completely worth it just to see the look on Diva's face.