Don't shoot the messenger

The gold glint of the city in the afternoon sun is almost the exact shade of gilded gold that embellishes the summons in Saiou's hands. Saiou places the summons back in his satchel as he takes in the sights before him.

The capital is so much more grand that the descriptions are able to convey, and the decorations ornamenting the already beautiful scenery add to the grand atmosphere in every step that Saiou takes, and it seems that people from every corner of the Grand Empire have arrived for the upcoming celebrations.

The Pharaoh's birthday is always a grand event, with a week dedicated to celebrations and delegates visiting from all corners of the world to pay their respects to the Pharaoh.

Saiou has arrived earlier than the travel master expected and so his supplies will be sent to his lodgings when the cargo arrives. And exactly as Mizuchi had predicted, the winds were in his favour today. Saiou takes this as a sign of auspiciousness.

It is considered common courtesy to arrive at the palace as early as possible before the stipulated time, and depending on your status you would have to wait for hours after the appointed time to be graced by the presence of the Imperial Family.

[Mizuchi refers to this aggravating habit of the Imperial Family as "disrespecting the very Gods they claim to descend from."

Edo is more succinct with referring to it as "fucking bullshit."]

But the House of the Pharaoh does not follow the habits of the Imperial Family.

Mizuchi tells him as such while she combs his hair, parting it horizontal as she separates the top half with a claw-clip to braid later.

"Where the Imperial Family sees people waiting for their presence as a sign of power, the House of the Pharaoh only sees potential threats. They do not take kindly to any kind of loitering."

Saiou almost nods in reply but cannot from the force in which his hair is being held back. It is far more safer to verbalize his understanding instead.

"They have recently relaxed the timings so you can arrive at the palace fifteen minutes before the appointment." Saiou feels his hair being released from the claw-clip as Mizuchi parts them further and braids it by the sections, leaving aside some hair to be looped back into the finished hairstyle.

"Only fifteen minutes?" Elsewhere this would have been seen as arrogant, and Saiou sets this thought aside as he chances a glance at Edo, who watches Saiou's hair dance into meticulous braids and leaves his self-appointed task of folding Saiou's clothes to watch the braided locks of hair twist into an elegant updo.

"You would think that the ruler over half the world would enjoy people waiting for him outside his door." While Edo's words sounds biting, his tone is questioning, almost curious.

Out the corner of his eye, Saiou sees Edo's face flush as Mizuchi fastens his hair with his kanzashi and as Saiou smiles at him, Edo turns away in a panic, the realization that Saiou must have caught him staring for a while and chose not to say anything about it filling him with a single minded determination to complete his task of folding clothes and placing them in the suitcase with great haste.

Before Saiou leaves to the airport Mizuchi gives him a hug. Hugs from her while surprising are not rare, but the way her hands shake is. "Please be safe." Her worry is not unfounded. This is the first time the Pharaoh has requested for a divinator by name, and for those who delve in the study of divination, an occurrence without precedence is an event to be feared.

Saiou does not tell her that he will be alright but he hugs her back as tightly as he can, and for Mizuchi who dips herself into the ocean of future possibilities as often as she can, Saiou hopes that the comfort of the present is just a strong enough anchor to keep her steady as she goes to wade back into those vast waters.

Saiou arrives exactly fifteen minutes early and is immediately taken to a parlor that is tucked in a corner at the end of a narrow passage, the passage itself one amid a myriad of hallways. As Saiou takes the last step out of that maze, the guard who took him to the exist disappears within the shadows of the maze.

Placing one voluntary step after another, Saiou considers the Pharaoh's intent of seeing him in a room that could be considered an enclave with how isolated it is from the rest of the palace. Though he strains his ears, the only things Saiou can hear are the beating of his heat and the way that the metal strips of his kanzashi chime in time with his steps. The bustle of daily life in the palace does not reach this lone corner.

the public nature of the reception of the Pharaoh's announcement on meeting with a divinator would be a strong point to the idea that Saiou is not walking into a trap, if not for the fact that the person who asked to see him is a despot of an immortal nature.

As Saiou enters the room, he is greeted with sunlight and the smell of freshly prepared tea and Saiou finds himself drawn to the large open window that the sunlight pours from. Despite being in the furthers corner of the palace, the view of the land before him is breathtaking.

"The view is beautiful, is it not?" The distinctive of sound of fine porcelain tapping against wood pricks his ears as he turns to the voice behind him.

A young man sits before a tea set of finely decorated porcelain, a set that must have been given my an Imperial dignitary once upon a time, for Saiou cannot remember seeing that kind of porcelain art outside ancient heirlooms.

The headdress the young man wears has lappets that drape the front of his shoulders and it covers the nape of his neck. An amused, almost warm smile that does not reach kohl covered eyes greets Saiou in an interested politeness, and gold bangles chime against each other as the young man gestures Saiou to sit and have tea with him. He seems to be a young lord of a sort who must be well trusted by the House of the Pharaoh.

The tea itself is bitter and heavily sweetened and the strong flavour is a shock to Saiou's taste-buds but it is something that Edo would quite enjoy. The man pours him another cup.

Saiou has been interrogated and his abilities tested by nobility and royalty alike, though he has never attended an interrogation like this before.

"I like your hairpiece." The man places his cup on its saucer and leans forward. "May I have a look?" Saiou can only place his cup down in acquiesce.

The man leans forward and taps the end of the kanzashi, which causes the metal strips to hit each other in broken chimes. Saiou sits perfectly still, but his hands tremble inside his sleeves.

The man sits back and Saiou's hands have calmed down enough to pick up the cup without spilling anything. "Where did you get it from?" His interest is curious, especially when they are both here to not make small talk.

"It is a gift, my lord." It is a gift of a vow lacquered box, and now when Saiou has to face something he will not be alone. It is a piece of Edo given to Saiou to hold and to keep, wherever they may be.

"From someone dear to you?"

"Yes, my lord."

The man smiles, a melancholic ghost of remembrance. It dissipates to impassiveness, but it was the first genuine smile that Saiou has seen on the man's face.

"This room belonged to someone who hailed from your land."

Saiou looks around the room with fresh eyes, and now it has been pointed out, he cannot ignore the embroidery of orchids on the chiffon curtains on the bed. He is not sure if having curtained beds is traditional in the Capital or if it was custom-made for the person who lived here. The wood that the furniture is made of is also imported, the kind of wood that is only used by the Imperial Place and those with the privilege to spend more than what another would make in a lifetime. Saiou initially thought that the furniture was made to show off to guests but it seems that a gift is a more likely explanation.

"I am told that you can find objects that refuse to be found," Impassive eyes do not leave Saiou's face as the man pours another cup of tea for the both of them. "that you are the best at it." Saiou is handed his cup, the tea still warm from the pot. "Is that true, Takuma Saiou?"

"Yes it is." Saiou's knuckles are as white as the porcelain he is holding

"I expect nothing less than complete success from you." The words are dagger sharp in their sincerity, and in the threat that they carry.

Saiou cannot refuse.

Satisfied with Saiou's consent, the young man walks to the door and as Saiou goes to get up himself, he is told to sit and enjoy the rest of the tea.

"Various schedules had to have been moved around so that we could have this appointment. A representative was supposed to have met you instead of me, you see" The young man puts on a opaque mask and Saiou's blood runs cold. "But I had to see you for myself." Saiou meets the eyes of Pharaoh Abidos the Third through the impassive gold of the mask.

The Pharaoh opens the door to two guards standing at the entrance and leaves with an incline of his head. "Do enjoy your stay."

The strong flavour of the tea is just enough to drown the tang of blood in Saiou's mouth.

As Saiou closes the door behind him and follows the guard into the darkness of the maze, he cannot stop thinking about that room. To blend the architecture of two very distinct cultures in such a seamless manner must have taken a lot of deliberation. The person the room was made for must have been very loved, but to leave the room everyday must have been very difficult, with the dark winded halls of infinite turns turns and branches.

Unless it was designed to ensure that the person cannot leave.

The thought is a harrowing one. But it easily can be a result of drastic renovations to the palace in which the Pharaoh wanted to preserve the room as it always was.

The room does not leave Saiou's mind as he roams around the stalls, looking for knickknacks to bring back as souvenirs or as he returns to the palace for the banquet dedicated to the Pharaoh's honoured guest. He thinks about the room as he watches the Pharaoh not eat even a morsel throughout the banquet and does not stop thinking about it as he receives directions to the temple of the Red Eyes Black Dragon the next day and is told that the Champion of the temple will be able to guide him to what he has to find.

Edo had given Saiou an umbrella. It is blue with pink roses dotted over it and is a blessing as Saiou walks under the noon sun. The temple of the Red Eyes Black Dragon is as imposing as the deity it is dedicated to, towering over the smaller buildings in the area.

The temple of the Red Eyes Black Dragon is one of, if not the oldest temple dedicated to the honour of a spirit. It is one of the few temples whose establishment can be traced back to the Old Tales. Saiou wonders what the Champion of such a legacy must be like.

The person who greets him at the gate is a cherry brunette with a smile that can rival the sun above them in its sheer brightness.

"Are you Takuma Saiou?" The dark circles that seem to sink the other man's eyes in belies how enthusiastic he carries himself, and Saiou finds himself returning the positive energy he is greeted with a smile.

"Yes I am." Saiou moves his umbrella so that it shields the brunette from the hot sun, though the other man does not seem bothered by the heat. "And what is your name?"

"The name is Fubuki!" He beams and takes the suitcase despite Saiou's insistence that he is not so tired. "Come on, lets get you settled in and then get something to eat."

They eat freshly made shawarma outside a local eatery and it might be the best thing Saiou has ever eaten in his life. The meat has crisp outer skin and juicy insides that are heightened by the brined vegetables and mayonnaise. The soul-stirring flavour is hugged by the warm and very soft flatbread. Edo would love this and Mizuchi would ask for seconds.

"It's so good right?" Fubuki smiles as he bites into his own shawarma.

Saiou would reply if he was not too busy relishing every bite he took. His is sad despite himself when he finishes his shawarma.

Saiou watches Fubuki getting his cheeks pinched by well-meaning aunties as they walk back to the temple. Whenever Fubuki would gesture towards Saiou as he talked to them, Saiou would smile and politely bow to the aunties who would then speak amongst each other with more excitement and Fubuki talks between laughter as he waves his hands with emphasis. Saiou wonders what they are talking about.

"They were very curious about you," Fubuki says as they walk past the gates of the temple. "They said that you were very pretty and wondered if you were single. I said you were taken but now I'm curious if you are actually dating someone."

Saiou feels his ears heat up as he nods. "I am." He does not meet Fubuki's eyes and almost trips as they walk past the threshold of the temple.

"I figured." Fubuki shrugs. "Not one as pretty as you can be single." Fubuki pauses at this, seemingly taken away back his own words. "Not that everyone who is pretty should be dating of course, I am a perfect example of the same, and if it makes you feel better the junior priest is also pretty but he is technically not dating anyone but I feel like that part is more semantics, you know?"

Saiou does not know Fubuki is talking about, he got lost somewhere between Fubuki saying that he is a good example, and goes to politely inquire about it when he feels a presence behind him, a presence unlike anything he has ever encountered. It feels like Death itself is breathing down his throat.

Death has eyes that glint gold in the evening sun and the shadows around him warp the rest of his features to obscurity. His very presence is oppressive to Saiou's mind and his body locks in place and can only watch as Death walks down the stairs.

As Death enters the temple proper the oppressive energy dissipates completely and the sudden difference in pressure makes Saiou's ears pop and he is struck with a sudden wave of nausea..

"We got you something." Fubuki tosses a wrapped shawarma that the person before them almost drops from his excitement.

"Thanks!" Saiou looks into those copper eyes and is struck by how full of life they are, so very different from his impression of death he had embodied earlier. What might be Death looks at what Saiou is currently wearing; flowy clothing that is a blessing in this hot weather but very foreign in design. "And what's he here for?"

"This is Takuma Saiou!" Saiou gives a small bow. "He just arrived from the capital and will be staying here."

"From the capital?" What might be Death has eyes that sparkle at Saiou in excitement. "Are you going to help Fubuki with that research he's been working on?"

""Yep!" Fubuki wraps an arm around his shoulder and lightly shakes him. "Between the two of us, we're going to crack this!"

"Gotcha!" What might be Death gives what might be a two fingered salute. "My name is Judai, nice to meetcha!"

Death—Judai is an excitable individual and it is only when Fubuki insinuates that Judai will be late meeting someone does he set off in a hurried panic, shouting rushed goodbyes as he does so.

Judai is a bright soul with copper eyes and such liveliness that Saiou almost questions if he had imagined what happened earlier. The sharp sting of bile in the back of his throat reminds him that he did not.

Fubuki serves dinner late at night, not long after the evening prayers end. The night air has a sharp chill that makes Saiou shiver despite himself.

Fubuki puts his jacket on Saiou and says that he is not as bothered by the chill in the air as Saiou is.

"You don't look like you have a lot of body heat." Edo would wholeheartedly agree with that observation before wrapping Saiou up with every warm article of clothing he has in reach.

"And you do?" Saiou swirls his cup and watches the water sway.

"Nah, I'm just used to the climate." Fubuki says between bites. "Now Judai on the other hand, that guy is a human furnace. Never seen him even shiver in the cold."

"Not even once?" The sky is so clear he can count the stars on the surface of the water.

"One time I found him sleeping outside while shirtless." Fubuki shrugs. "Honestly, really surprised he did not get sick from that."

"Well it is quite hot here." Calling the weather 'hot' is akin to calling an oven 'warm': a huge understatement.

"The December nights are not." Fubuki scoffs, "The air feels like you're breathing in ice."

Already the chill of the night bites into Saiou's skin. He cannot imagine how he will fare in the winter months and he preemptively shivers at the very thought of dealing with it.

As Saiou helps Fubuki dry the dishes, he asks the question that has been brewing in his mind since Judai asked about Saiou's purpose here. "So are you the Champion—"

Fubuki cuts him off with a plaster smile. "I'm just a custodian."

Saiou has been around Champions both in a personal and professional capacity. He knows more than most how Champions carry themselves in a crowd and how they remove their veneer of presence when they are not putting on show. Champions carry an energy that cannot be replicated, it is an aura that magnetizes everything around it, turning a dismal atmosphere into something electrifying.

Saiou is confident that the person in front of him must be a Champion of some sort, despite what he says otherwise. "I was instructed to meet the Champion, do you know where they are?"

"This temple does not have a champion," Fubuki does not snatch the plate from Saiou's hands but it is a near thing. "The palace must have made a mistake."

Saiou remembers the room in the end of the labyrinth and the threat in the Pharaoh's smile. He does not think people like the Pharaoh make mistakes but he drops the topic and helps Fubuki with the rest of the chores.

"Fubuki is the Champion of the Red Eyes temple." Judai is guileless in his surprise. "Isn't that why you're here?"

It has been two days and Saiou still does not know why he is here. The Pharaoh told him to search for something but he cannot search for something if he does not know what that something is. Between this and Fubuki's surprising standoffish nature regarding his actual position Saiou is about ready to ask Mizuchi to read his fortune; it feels like destiny itself is against this happening. "How is Fubuki-san as a duellist?"

Judai's eyes light up, just like Edo's when Saiou asks about the new comic he is reading. "Fubuki is amazing!" Judai gushes, almost dropping the golden trays he is holding. "He is on the same level as the Champion of the Blue-Eyes, at the very least! He does not really duel anymore, but when he does make an appearance, its awesome!!" The dainty goblets on the trays are trembling from the way Judai moves as he speaks.

Saiou gently takes the trays from Judai's hand so that he can express himself unimpeded. "Why does he not duel anymore?"

"Don't really know actually," Judai's body language quiets down as his brows furrow in thought. "It happened before I came here and no one else really wants to talk about it. Asuka won't unless you catch her in a mood so..." Judai trails off and the tips of his fingers shift from pink to bone white from the force he presses them against each other with. "I'm sorry, that's really all I got."

There is something about how Judai looks so much like a small kitten that tugs Saiou's heartstrings. "I'm sorry for asking you something like this." Saiou hates that he is the reason that Judai looks so sad right now. "Would you like me to help you put these where you need to?"

This seems to brighten up Judai's mood. "Nah, you have your work cut out for yourself here and I promised Amnael-mualim that I would help him so it would be very busy." He takes the trays back. "But can we get something later?" Judai's energy is all tentative excitement, and Saiou can almost see a phantom puppy tail wagging as he asks.

Saiou does not hesitate. "Of course!"

"It's a date!" Judai waves gleefully as he runs to where he has to go.

Saiou waves back as the words settle down in his mind. "A date?!"

"Not even a full day and Judai already got you?" Fubuki, sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by old papers, does not even bother trying to hide how amused he is.

Saiou feels his cheeks heat up. "I—" He has no way of defending himself from this. He thinks about foregoing the assignment to hide under a pillow for the rest of his days.

"I should really put that sign up." Fubuki murmurs to himself as he stretches his arms and carefully maneuvers himself from the circle of parchment and books to stand before Saiou. "So what's the time?"

Saiou looks at his watch, the second hand is stuck but the hour and minute hands work just fine. "It is noon." He should really get the watch checked sometime. Maybe sometime soon.

Fubuki rubs his palms together. "Then lets eat!"

As they eat lunch outside, Saiou asks about the sign Fubuki was talking about.

"Oh that? I meant it as a joke but now I'm feeling like I should actually start hanging it outside." Fubuki raises his hands upward like he is visualizing the sign in front of him. "No Kissing The Assistant Priest"

"Judai is your assistant priest?" Judai does not seem like an assistant priest at first glance. He does not have Mizuchi's poise and calmness, however it is quite narrow minded for him to make such an assumption and now he feels quite bad for doing so.

"Not my assistant priest, the assistant priest. As in he does the rituals for all the temples in th—" Fubuki abruptly stops talking and his gaze is locked at something that is behind Saiou. Saiou turns back but cannot see anything that might spook Fubuki like this, just people milling about the area. "Distract them."

Before Saiou can ask who he needs to distract and why, he senses the presence of multiple people behind him. There are a group of young women who talk to him in rapid tones and Saiou does not understand what they are saying. He confusion must show, because one of them quietens her friends down before speaking to him in Pidgin. She has a thick accent but her enunciation is very clear.

"Where is Fubuki?"

Saiou points at a random direction and the group takes off in rapid speed, talking loudly amongst themselves. There is a fat cat sleeping on the wall adjacent to where the group is running, an adorable thing with brown fur and deeper stripes.

As soon as they cannot be seen, Fubuki pops back from..somewhere, Saiou is not exactly sure where he went. "Are you alright? Why were they after you?"

"Fans." Fubuki looks around before sitting next to Saiou again. "They are very persistent. You learn how their patterns work with experience. Anyway, where was I?" He takes a bite of food before continuing. "Right, so Judai does them because he knows the prayers in the old language and that's pretty nuts actually."

This piques Saiou's curiosity. "Why so?"

"For one, the old language has not been properly spoken for the last two thousand-ish to one thousand fifty-ish years, the history of the early modern times is iffy at best." Fubuki shrugs, a what-have-you tiredness weighing his posture, before lifting them up as he continues on. "Okay so that aside, its gotten to the point where no one is really confident on how the more intricate rituals are spoken, purely because they have never really been used since the Pharaoh ascended."

Saiou leans closer, "And then?"

"This guy with no memory except his first name shows up and somehow he knows how the more intricate rituals work so we hired him."

"You are talking about Judai?"

"The one and only."

"He also spends his time obliviously seducing every single person he has prolonged eye contact with." Fubuki gives a fond sigh. "Its very cute but it keeps on happening in temple grounds which is pissing off a lot of the old-schoolers but I don't really see what the issue is." Fubuki waves his hand. "Those guys need to be upset at something otherwise they won't be able to function properly."

"Did I—where Judai and I were talking, was that part of the temple grounds?" Saiou does not think he can go about his day normally if he did disrespect holy ground that way.

Saiou can hear Fubuki's ringing laughter as he buries his head in his hands. Mizuchi will rip him a new one if she ever finds out.

Saiou cannot stop feeling guilty and horrible for his disrespect and he really is bad at impassivity because Fubuki refuses to tell Saiou about what he supposed to be searching for and pushes him to spend sometime out Judai until he feels better.

And that is how Saiou finds himself accompanying Judai as they both walk to the kitchen with a bunch of items. Saiou finds himself two bowls while Judai is carrying a metal pot with a lid.

If Saiou thought the outside was like stepping close to a fire, entering the kitchen feels like closing yourself in an oven. Saiou feels suffocated and seats himself on the lone stool while Judai flitters around, unbothered the strangling humid heat.

Saiou accounts his growing headache from the sudden increase in temperature, and watches Judai place the pot on the small stove and lights the flame with a matchstick. "What are you making?"

"Caramel popcorn." Judai unloads a bag of corn kernels into the pot and starts stirring it. "Both Asuka and Red-Eyes like caramel popcorn so I thought I can make an extra large batch and give it to them."

Despite how badly Saiou's mind wants to crack his skull open, he finds himself buoyant at the thought of such a grand spirit enjoying caramel popcorn. But the other name scratches a memory in his aching head.

"Asuka?"

"Yeah, Asuka. She is the current Head of the Steel Temple Faction." Judai places the lid on the pot. "And she likes caramel popcorn."

Current head of the Steel Temple? "Are you referring to the Kaiser's protégé?" After the Kaiser's disappearance, his protégé has taken the mantle as the Champion of the faction.

The only thing Edo would say on the matter was that Tenjoin is a talented duellist but that it would be far better for her to reforge the Kaiser's armour than to go to battle wearing something so ill-fitting.

"Yeah!" Judai takes a rag and seems to be psyching himself up as he takes hold of the lid and opens it. He looks into the pot and closes it. "She has been really stressed lately so I thought that something nice will make her feel better."

Judai is a kind soul. "That is very sweet of you." Edo might even call him heroic.

"She is my friend." Judai shrugs. "She would do it for me too."

"I see." there is a small smile on Saiou's lips as his mind continues to drum at the gaps in his skull. He leans against the wall in a effort to find a place to rest his head against when he feels a sudden cool sensation against his forehead. He jumps in shock and as the coolness dissipates, his brain starts ramming into his skull again.

This time Saiou can feel an energy flittering about right in front of him. He is not sure what makes him stay still, it might be how the restless movement of this energy is almost identical to how Judai moves about in an enclosed space. Or maybe the headache is affecting Saiou's cognition more than he initially thought. But he stays still and is rewarded by the cool sensation returning. It feels like lying on a pile of downy feathers.

It takes a moment to realize that while Judai is looking at Saiou, his focus is on Saiou's forehead and the way Saiou does not move unless the energy shifts their position. Judai beams in excitement.

"You can see duel spirits too!" Judai does not shout, but in the small kitchen his voice is almost deafening.

"Not exactly." Saiou whispers back. He does not want to startle Judai's friend. "I can feel energies."

Judai does not seem to care for how Saiou can sense Judai's friend, just that he can. "Winged-Kuriboh likes you."

That must be the name of Judai's friend, and being winged does explain the feeling of feathers that tickle his temples. "I am honoured."

"Do you want some popcorn?" Saiou does not registered the smell of warm sweetness until Judai asks.

"No but thank you."

"Then you both can chill here while I give these out." Judai gives a small wave that Saiou returns with a fluttery wave of his own. "Amnael-mualim wants me back soon so if you want to stay here for a while you should totally do it. Aibou here will take care of you!"

The sensation of the spirit wiggling about is quite ticklish.

The heat and humidity of the room do not change as Judai leaves but the suffocating atmosphere of the room disappears.

As Saiou leaves the kitchen, following where Winged-Kuriboh leads him, he rethinks to what exactly he felt when he first felt Judai's presence. Was it the oppressive energy of Death? Or was it the gravity of Existence itself that was pulsating from him? Is it any different from the suffocating sensation that he had felt in the kitchen?

If there is any difference between the two, Saiou cannot tell. One feels just as abominable as the other.

["Do you mind if I ask you a question Fubuki-san?"

"Didn't I tell you to just call me Fubuki? But yeah, shoot."

"I have not seen the Champion of this temple yet."

"That is not a question Takuma, but yeah we don't have a Champion yet."

"Yet?"

"Yeah, hopefully Red-Eyes will pick Judai as the new Champion any day now and put me out of my misery."

"Is there no ceremony of choosing?"

"Nah, Red-Eyes is more vibe based than opulent. That is more Blue-Eyes' department."

Saiou does not mention that since Red Eyes Black Dragon still regards Fubuki as the Champion, Judai will never be picked, regardless of how eligible he is.]

Winged-Kuriboh leads Saiou back to the temple and with a affectionate nuzzle, the spirit disappears from Saiou's cognition. Saiou looks for Fubuki and finds him where he had found him before lunch: cross legged around a circle of old papers and books. He has a laptop on his lap.

"I thought that there was no internet here." At least that was what Saiou was told in the capital, and since he had arrived there had been no reasons for him to assume otherwise.

"I'm using WordPad." Fubuki beckons him over. "Can you plug this in?" He hands Saiou a cable and points to an old outlet embedded in the wall. The outlet sparks as he plugs it in but luckily nothing catches on fire.

"So do you feel better now?"

Saiou thinks on it. Does he feel better now? He feel far more relaxed then he was before, but he still feels as guilty as he did before and is more confused than he was before. Saiou shrugs, which seems to be a good enough answer for Fubuki.

"When will Judai be coming back?" Fubuki pats the patch of floor right next to him.

"I am not sure." Saiou manoeuvers himself to the inside of the circle and sits right next to Fubuki. "He said that he has to see someone."

Fubuki puts his laptop down and turns to Saiou with a mischievous grin. "Is it Anderson?" Saiou does not know who Anderson is, but Fubuki has already gone to the next option "Or is the guy with the guns?" Fubuki snaps his fingers. "That guy's name is O'Barry! Or something like that, I mean how many people with O in their name are we going to find here anyway?"

"He said that he was going to see someone called Amnael-mualim." Fubuki visibly deflates at this.

"So no juicy gossip?" Fubuki groans as his head hits the wall behind him. "Can't they just ask him out alre—" He sits back up and pulls Saiou closer by the lapels. "Are you sure that he said Amnael-mualim?"

Saiou nods, more unnerved by the sudden swerve in Fubuki's easy-going attitude than how he was suddenly grabbed by the lapels.

Saiou can feel the tremors from Fubuki's shaking hands before they even out. "Huh." Fubuki lets go of Saiou's lapels with an apologetic pat to his shoulders. His smile is suppressed mania.

Saiou can tell that Fubuki is not doing well but he is not how he can help in this situation. But he tries asking regardless. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." The uneasy steady of his shoulders evens out as he takes in a deep breath. "Honestly, this isn't even the weirdest thing Judai has done. I should have known he can talk to the dead."

But the way Judai talks about Amnael-mualim, it felt like he was a neighbour that Judai could pop in for a visit as he runs errands. "Amnael-mualim is dead?" Saiou can still taste bile in the back of his throat.

"For the past three years."

It appears to be that Fubuki does not like Amnael-mualim and his next sentence cements that fact.

"And good riddance to that prick." Fubuki snarks and Saiou watches as he pushes his laptop aside and tugs Saiou to sit right in front of him. "So you said that he is talking to Judai now?"

"Yes." Saiou is not sure what to make of the puzzle that he has been given random pieces off, but maybe asking more might provide some clarity. "Will he be alright?"

""Yeah, he'll be fine." Fubuki waves away Saiou's concern. "Knowing Amnael-mualim, that guy is having the time of his dead existence confusing Judai with complicated concepts." Fubuki closes the laptop and gives Saiou his complete attention. "How about we talk about something else?"

Something else? Saiou wracks his brain trying to think about a casual topic to talk about before he remembers a curious thing Fubuki had said earlier. "So what is the weirdest thing Judai has done?"

"Well, Judai didn't 'do' this per se, but it happened when I found him sleeping outside that night." Fubuki is searching among the stacks of paper beside him as he speaks. "He was on his stomach on the sand which is a pretty stupid thing for him to do, so I went to wake him up and then—hold on," Fubuki pulls of a singular sheet of paper and places it between them and Saiou feels nauseous all over again. "On his back was this eye, and it wasn't even like a hyper-realistic tattoo or anything like it. It was an actual moving eye. And it was huge." Saiou can see that. The drawing on the paper shows a vertical eye lying on a stick figure, a crude approximation of what Fubuki might have seen that night. "And as I was walking to him. it was staring at me and I— I can't look at this anymore." Fubuki aggressively puts the paper back into the stash and Saiou can breathe properly again. "Do you want some lime soda?"

Saiou never had lime soda but the fizziness of the carbonated water and the sharp sourness of the lime tempered by the blend of sugar and salt does wonders for his nausea. Fubuki drinks half of his in one sitting.

"You felt it too?"

Saiou assumes that by 'it' Fubuki was referring to the overbearing sense of nausea and replies accordingly.

"So it was like that but ten-times worse." Fubuki shudders. "Even looking at that drawing is bad enough."

"Did you do anything after that?"

"Nothing much I guess. I tried not to think about it but I then I couldn't stop so then I tried drawing what I saw just to see if I was being dumb, but then I got the worst headache ever and then I popped five Advils and I slept everything off." Fubuki finishes the rest of his glass. "Do you want some more?"

Saiou is still reeling from the amount of information given to him in such a short amount of time. And this is all without knowing what he has been sent here to locate.

"Yes please." But first more lime soda.

Saiou sees Judai walking in a desert and a winged shadow following him around. The desert spans for infinity and the winged shadow floats above him, a independent entity of its own right. Saiou's skin pricks as the shadow starts shifting in its form and he runs and runs and enters a room.

The room he met the Pharaoh is as beautiful as the last time he has been here. There are window shutters blocking any light from outside from entering the room. Saiou can blown away by the level of realism the orchids illustrated in the inside of the shutters have, it almost feels like he can reach out and caress the petals. But even so, the shut window leaves Saiou feeling almost claustrophobic.

He needs to leave right now.

Before the shadow finds him.

The door is locked. Saiou looks around for something to break the door down before remembering that the realm of the mind does not beholden itself to static laws and phases through the door after a polite knock.

Unlike its counterpart elsewhere, this room is surrounded by a void save for a singular pathway. It must be a trap.

Saiou goes anyway.

The passage leads him to a tunnel with takes him down a bend which leads him to another. And so it goes.

Just when he thinks he can escape, he sees a large eye charge towards him and he runs the other away as fast as he can but he cannot outrun a God.

How do you escape a God?

The wooden panels are damp with sweat and Saiou does not remember falling from his cot. His fingers are jittery and his legs shake as he pulls himself up.

He needs answers and he wants them now.

Saiou finds Fubuki in the middle of his circle, laptop nowhere to be seen. He is whistling a merry tune as he flips a page of a small book with a relaxed air about him.

To this day Saiou is not sure why he was so aggressive when asking Fubuki to just tell him why is it he was sent here —it was mostly the stress I think—. He would like to immediately get started so that he can leave this place as fast as he can. Saiou does not think he can survive another encounter with that being, whatever it may be.

Despite it being three in the morning, Fubuki does not seem to be perturbed by Saiou's outburst —that was not an outburst, it was polite panic at best— and gently coaxes him to sit down on the floor.

"Hey, for what its worth I'm so sorry for pushing you to this point." He nudges a cup of water that Saiou takes small sips from as Fubuki continues talking. "But to be honest, I have no clue what you are supposed to be searching for."

Saiou only registers water seeping into his clothes, the cup lying on the floor.

"You are here to find something, don't get me wrong." As Fubuki runs his fingers through his hair, Saiou registers how much more prominent Fubuki's dark circles have become since Saiou has first seen him. "It's just that I have not found what it is yet."

"Is that what the circle is for?" It feels like a dumb question to ask but Saiou feels too unbalanced to care all that much.

"Yeah. Believe me I've been trying, but I really don't know how I'm supposed to be going about this." Fubuki fiddles with the cup as he carries on. "The only hint I got was that Jonouchi-sama's story would be a good—"

Saiou usually does not interrupt but, "Jonouchi-sama?"

Fubuki looks at Saiou quizzically before realizing why Saiou interjected with such confusion. "Oh right, I don't know if you know this but Jonouchi-sama is the first Champion of the Red Eyes Black Dragon."

"I figured that out." It was not really difficult when there is a statue dedicated to him. "But 'Jonouchi-sama'?" Hearing such an honorific in a land five oceans away is confusing Saiou's tired brain more than he would have expected.

"Oh yeah that, so Jonouchi-sama was from the Land Beyond the Five Waters and Red Eyes loved his honourable nature and his golden retriever vibes so much that it gave bestowed upon him the honour of being the First Champion, quite literally, because he was the first Champion ever recorded. He is the Overseer of honour, fights and loyalty. " Fubuki puffs up in pride. "Isn't he the coolest?"

Saiou nods. Jonouchi-sama sounds really cool and Edo would adore a deity that oversees fights and loyalty alike.

"So there is this other guy." Fubuki gives him the book he has been holding. "He is only mentioned in other texts but he is very central to Jonouchi-sama." The book has names of what appear to be different deities: Jonouchi Katsuya, Anzu Mazaki, Ryou Bakura, Seto Kaiba and quite a few others but the one that caught Saiou's attention was a single world encircled and underlined multiple times. He sees the word scribbled next to it in messy Pidgin: Game.

"Is his name really Game?"

"I'm not sure how exactly to pronounce it because the same lettering is also used for the word 'spouse' so I left it like that. And speaking of that guy, the word 'game' seems to be a variation of his name. I think he might be the Overseer of Games."

"Sounds pretty obvious to me."

"Not in academia." Fubuki scoffs. "Those suckers want proof for every single assumption, not matter how obvious it is."

"I see. And how is the word 'spouse' connected to the God of Games?"

"Oh, that's because he was everyone's spouse." Fubuki shrugs.

Saiou was not sure what other answer he was expecting but he is still taken aback. He has a feeling that Fubuki might be pulling his leg.

"I'm not joking." Fubuki slams over a giant book. "Look."

The page has two rows and multiple columns. In the second row there is one word that is repeated in every column: Game.

"This is a list of recorded spouses for each Overseer." Fubuki points to the heading. "And look whose name shows up for each of them." Fubuki nods solemnly. "You could say he has good game."

Saiou cannot hold back his laughter. The pun was horrible.

"You know I'm right." Fubuki grins. "But yeah, other than this list there is very little we know about this guy because of that fucking prick."

"Who is that?"

"Who do you think? Seto Kaiba." Fubuki rolls his eyes. "That bastard."

"You mean Kaiba of the Blue Eyes White Dragon?" Saiou is not sure if the Overseer of Victory and Potential would take kindly to Fubuki's attitude.

"The King of the Universe himself." Saiou is sure that holding a deity's name, let alone such a powerful one with such scorn will invite divine retribution, but Fubuki does not seem to care about that. "So what happened is that Game got pregnant with Kaiba's child and went into hiding so that Kaiba doesn't find out. But Kaiba did find out and so he goes ballistic trying to find where Game has been hiding, and in the process he burnt down all of Game's temples and destroyed all records of him in the process, but even after that he has not been able to find Game." Fubuki raises his hands in exasperation. "You can only find this story in Jonouchi-sama's archives and nowhere else, so those Blue-Eyes pricks completely reject this incident from their canon."

"So does this deity connected with what the Pharaoh wants us to find?"

"Honestly, I have no clue." Fubuki shrugs. "But get this: in Anzu-sama's archive he has been mentioned as the Overseer of Sacrificial Love." Fubuki's voice drops to a whisper. "And there are rumours that the Pharaoh once had a lover who died long ago, so I think that the Pharaoh wants to resurrect his lover through the intersession of this Overseer."

Saiou thinks back to the room at the end of the labyrinth, a cage crafted with great love from which the inhabitant cannot escape and has no doubt about the truthfulness of this rumour. The only question is, why now? But Saiou has a feeling that it will not be answered that easily.

"Has the palace been renovated in the past decade or so?" The sudden change in topic is quite sudden but Saiou has to know.

"No." Fubuki's reply is immediate. "That palace has not been renovated in the last two millennia, I can tell you that much. Any reason why you asked?"

"Just wondering." Saiou dismisses the implications of this from his mind as fast as he can. "But what does this mean for what we are supposed to be finding?"

"My best guess is that we are supposed to be finding a temple." Fubuki raises his hands in defeat. "But I don't know how that prick is expecting us to find a building when we—Fucking Ow!" Fubuki clutches his leg as he hunches in pain.

Even through his clothes, Saiou can see a green glow seep through the shadows of Fubuki's fingers. "Are you alright?"

The glow is reminiscent of a certain practice that the Imperial Family has banned on the grounds of being 'inhumane' and 'barbaric'. It seems that the House of the Pharaoh has no such qualms.

"Don't worry about it," Fubuki waves away Saiou's concern. "But yeah, how do we even find a building? You're a prophet right, do you have a plan?"

"I am a seer, not a prophet." Saiou points out. "But I can maybe try dowsing?" 'Maybe' being the keyword, Saiou is not sure if dowsing is applicable here.

"Like using rods to find lost objects?"

"Yes."

"I—," Fubuki's confusion is visible in the way he goes to speak more but stops himself. "A hidden temple can count as a lost object, right?"

"I suppose it depends if the temple was lost or not." Saiou feels just as lost asFubuki sounds. "How does one lose a temple?"

"You forget to cherish it." Fubuki nods in a solemn tone before shrugging. "Or I guess when you are an idiot you ca—OW!" Fubuki's body twitches in pain but his eyes are clear in their anger. Ignoring Saiou's worry Fubuki continues on. "I don't know if we can even narrow down a location with just using rods. For one, you will faint in less than a hour." Saiou cannot refute that.

"I had a vision." Saiou laces his slightly shaky fingers together. "I saw a winged shadow. Do you think that can help with narrowing it down?"

"It depends." Fubuki purses his lips in thought. "What kind of wings are we talking about here? Are they feathers or like bats?"

"Dragon wings."

"Do you know little that narrows it down?" Fubuki throws his hands to the sky. "Every other temple is dedicated to a dragon! And its not like there is an independent—Wait." Fubuki interrupts himself as he opens the giant book and flips to a page. "Yes, there is an unaffiliated dragon spirit! Its uh, Gandora the Dragon of Destruction." Fubuki holds Saiou's hands in excitement. "I think we got it!"

Saiou has a bad feeling that they are completely off course. "Does Gandora have three eyes?"

"Three eyes?" Fubuki's excitement dies abruptly. "What did you see in that vision?" He squeezes Saiou's hands almost painfully.

"Might be the same thing you are thinking about." While Saiou is not clairvoyant, his intuition is second to none, and Fubuki's finch confirms what he has already suspected.

The eye that Saiou saw in the vision has a bigger role to play than they will be expecting.

"Okay, so I don't know of any dragons with three eyes." Fubuki opens a new page in his book and scribbles a heading. "How about we think of things with three eyes and go on from there."

Oh. "Would that eye in the drawing of yours count as a third eye?"

Fubuki's pen clatters to the floor. "What are you trying to say?"

"Judai has two eyes." Just thinking about that stick figure drawing is making him feel ill. "And so that eye on his back could count as a third eye."

"No." Fubuki tone books for no arguments. "Judai showed up a while before the Pharaoh forced me to take this up, so how about we not drag him into this based on nothing but a picture?"

Putting aside the revelation that Fubuki must have been threatened as well, Saiou finds himself almost tempted to concede to Fubuki's argument. He knows the feeling of being accused for something on the flimsiest assumptions. "But you cannot deny the correlation."

Fubuki sighs. "What are you trying to imply here exactly? That Judai is some kind of entity of destruction?"

Yes. No. I do not know. "We do not know how Judai is connected to all of this." Saiou does not want to accuse the Judai with the bright soul and sweet smiles, but he would like to demand answers from the Judai that wears the miasma of death and the gravity of existence like heavy perfume. "But it cannot be a coincidence that we have met under these circumstances." Saiou takes in Fubuki's frazzled state, with his deep dark circles, frizzy hair and sharp eyes. People like us would know that better than most, would we not?"

"What do you mean by 'people like us'?" Fubuki gestures him to stop. "We are not that similar." Fubuki's words say one thing but his eyes say otherwise.

Eyes are often referred to as the windows to the soul because your eyes reflect the depths of what you truly feel. Fubuki has the alert eyes of someone who is clinging onto his sense of cognizance with his very soul. Saiou sees those same eyes every time he is in front of a mirror.

"It is heartening to see another who has survived possession." Saiou gives a soft smile. "That was all I meant to imply, do not think much of it."

"Wait—!"

"It is quite late Fubuki-san." Saiou cuts Fubuki as he gets up from the floor and walks back to his room. "How about we talk in the morning?"

Fubuki does not like thinking about what happened before because there is nothing good that comes from remembering. But to think that Takuma was possessed as well—

It is better to think of other things instead, less important and less relevant things. Like that silly prophecy about a dragon that will end the Pharaoh's reign. Fubuki may be devoted to Jonouchi-sama and Red Eyes Black Dragon with his very soul but even he knows that no duel spirit, even dragon ones can harm the royal family. The Pharaoh made sure of that.

But what if the 'dragon' mentioned in the prophecy was more metaphorical? Like a title or a nickname? Or it could be someone who is part dragon. Fubuki shakes his head in dismissal. The only idea sillier than someone being part dragon is someone being part dinosaur.

Ignoring the throbbing near his ankle, Fubuki thinks about how Judai could metaphorically play into all this.

"So there is nothing suspicious about a boy with no memories yet has substantial knowledge of rituals long forgotten? And he knows how to speak the old language, does he not?"

Fubuki could wear that he has a sixth sense for whenever Fubuki does not want to talk about anything.

"You are not even here Ryo so shut up."

"What does it say about you that you are arguing with a figment of your own mind?" If it were anyone else Fubuki would take it as an insult but Ryo says this with complete earnestness.

"It says nothing."

"If you say so." Ryo hums. "But you cannot deny that it is suspicious how the old language is the only language he could speak in before you taught him Pidgin."

"Memory loss makes people do weird things."

"You would know that the best." Ryo concedes. "But we both know that Judai is not just a person who has lost his memories."

"Are you trying to say that Judai is actually the prophesied dragon of destruction that will end the universe?" Fubuki does not know why the idea Judai being the dragon pf prophecy will not leave him alone, especially when the 'prophecy' in question is nothing but squiggles carved on stone, but the mind does weird things and sometimes you just have to roll with it.

"Rolling your eyes is rude Fubuki." Ryo tuts. "I'm only saying that Amnael-mualim would not be so invested in teaching Judai without a reason."

"You're telling me." A sharp exhale. "And Amnael-mualim is not driving Judai to madness or has even tried trapping him in another dimension! He is doing actual regular teaching! I mean, how is he even doing this? He died three years ago!"

"Didn't you say that Judai could see spirits?" Ryo asks. "I don't see why this is so surprising to you?"

"Yeah, he can see duel spirits not human spirits."

"We all share the same Ka." Ryo shrugs. "It stands to reason that a person who can see duel spirits can may as well see human ones as well."

"Or Amnael-mualim is not human."

Ryo laughs at Fubuki's petulant reply. "That he may be so."

They sit in silence before Ryo speaks up again. "What prophecy are you talking about?"

"Just an unfulfilled one sitting in the store room. That's all that it says so don't ask me what that's about."

"I see." The tone that Ryo uses would imply otherwise but Fubuki is not going to push him about this, his loss really. "And what is this about Kaiba siring a child? I've never heard of that story before."

"Oh right, the Cyber Steel is a subdivision of the Blue-Eyes so you guys wouldn't know about this. So basically Kaiba got a guy pregnant and threw a tantrum when the guy went to hiding, which is pretty reasonable of him because Kaiba is a horrible guy and I don't even know who would even want to be with him in any capacity b—"

"Fubuki, you going on a tangent again."

"Oh right, my bad. So Kaiba gets pissed right, and then threatens the baby mamma that he will destroy all his temples and statues and will never be remembered if he does not appear in front of him in two days, which I'm not really sure how Kaiba expected the guy to get the message when he is in hiding but such are the mysterious ways of Se—"

"And then what happened?"

"What else? He did not showed up so Kaiba destroyed everything, and that's pretty much it. Did I miss anything?"

"What about the child?"

"No one knows. The real focus was on Kaiba being a jerk and destroying everything so that's really all that we get about the kid."

"Who did Kaiba have the child with?"

"The term we all thought was a placeholder for the word spouse is actually a whole Overseer, I think he might be overseeing games but honestly we don't really know."

Ryo stays silent for so long that Fubuki thinks that he is gone before he asks something else.

"Do we know why this Overseer did not want Kaiba to find out he was with child?"

"...what do you mean?"

"In most mythologies, a father would often want to kill off his child if there was a prophecy involved." Ryo takes in a deep breath. "A prophecy that the child would either usurp him or destroy what he holds dear."

"....I'm not following." Lies.

"What is Kaiba's title?"

"The King of the Universe."

Ryo hums with interest. "And does this elusive Overseer have any title of sorts?"

"Overseer of Sacrificial Lo—fucking hell."

There are very few things that are more sacrificial in nature than risking your existence for the sake of your unborn child, even at the cost of being non-existent from the public consciousness. For a being who draws their power from believers and worshippers, it is a fate worse than death.

"That's probably where that Overseer is." Ryo muses aloud, either uncaring or oblivious to Fubuki's mental breakdown. Probably the former because Ryo can be an absolute shit when he thinks he can get away with it.

"....do we even have a hell? I'll just ask Amnael-mualim later, he definitely would know."

"With an Ouija board?" Ryo's curiosity is genuine.

"No! Why would I do that when I can ask Judai to ask him? I don't want to talk to that guy any more than I have to."

"Understandable." Ryo verbally shrugs.

"Tell me if I'm getting this right: so you think that Judai is Kaiba's kid that he tried to kill but couldn't because the baby mama sacrificed himself, thank you baby mama because Judai is a joy and a delight, but now the kid is back in the modern era without his memories, and he does not know why he is here."

"I'm not thinking that, you are." Ryo arches his brow. "But essentially yes."

"Why are we even thinking this?!" Fubuki rubs his temples in an attempt to stave off his incoming headache. "This does not even make any sense!!" It does not work but it was a great attempt regardless.

"Judai does have brown hair." Like Kaiba, Ryo does not say but from Fubuki's muffled screaming it seems he understood.

"Yeah, I mean—sure. Why not?" Fubuki slumps to the ground in disbelief. "I mean, this isn't the most weirdest thing Judai has done."

"Oh?" Ryo sounds intrigued. "What is the weirdest thing he's done?"

"He has a huge living eye embedded on his back. It's vertical."

"...come again?"

"Asked him about it afterwards and he looked very confused and said there is nothing on his back. And there really wasn't when I checked so I don't think he knows its there and it appears when he is not aware of it."

"Weird....is one way to describe it."

"You don't sound like you believe it."

"No, I really don't."

"But you are me and I definitely believe it."

"I am not Ryo and I am definitely not you" The apparition bares it's teeth and it almost looks like a smile. "How long will you keep lying to yourself for?"

Saiou is sitting in the kitchen barely keeping his eyes open. Fubuki is making something on the stove. It smells good but Saiou is too exhausted to appreciate it. Not even the sun is awake yet.

The din of the stove and the balmy atmosphere almost makes Saiou miss the moment Fubuki starts talking.

"Remember when you asked about the Champion when you first got here and I said that the temple does not have any."

"I remember." Saiou tries to blink out the drowsiness from his eyes and is losing. "You said that you are waiting for Red Eyes Black Dragon-sama to pick Judai."

"I am the Champion." Saiou finds himself fully awake now. "I still don't know why I'm still the Champion to be honest." Fubuki winces as he speaks and it breaks Saiou's heart.

"You do not have to talk about it."

"I have to stop lying to myself. And you said that you know what it's like." Fubuki turns the stove off and in the silence his voice reverbs like a gong in the small kitchen. "To be possessed."

"I do." Saiou helps Fubuki carry the food and plates to the dining area.

Their food becomes cold in the crisp morning air as Saiou listens to Fubuki talk though the dawning hours. New chapters have the same bite as cold food and new friendships have the familiar care and warmth that reheated food is made with.

Saiou lazes around in the inside of the temple, in that state of mind that lies exactly halfway between wakefulness and slumber, when he sees Him. A figure clad in white linen, so white it seemed to made with snow-white magnolias, sits next to him. His hair resembles a sakura flower with its five petals, though his hair is more orchid pink and chrysanthemum yellow. He has kind eyes, and Saiou has a odd sense of déjà vu, like he has seen those eyes before.

"Hey Takuma?"

He can see Him move his lips.

"Takuma?"

the words themselves take a little longer to sink in, but when they do Saiou can feeling himself waking up.

"Takuma!"

He waves goodbye. Saiou tries to return it.

"Hey Takuma." Judai waves and Saiou could swear that for a moment Judai's face was superimposed by someone else's. "You okay?"

"I am just a bit sleepy I suppose." There is no trace of tiredness in Saiou's voice but Judai seems content enough to take the words in face value.

"Oh man, we did not mean to wake you up" Judai sounds guilty. "You can go back to sleep."

We? Saiou just notices a smaller ball of soft energy bouncing in place right next to Judai, Winged-Kuriboh.

"I feel quite awake now." Saiou does feel an unexpected lightness to his shoulders and there is a noticeable pep in his step as he runs past Judai. "The last one has to pay!"

"Hey! That's cheating!"

Saiou picks up his pace as he faintly hears Judai telling Winged-Kuriboh to run as fast as possible. Saiou can hear another's voice in the wind. It is a faint whisper but it is akin to a thunderclap in Saiou's mind.

"Thank you for caring for my child."