Spectre Love Posting Account

   He was a famous man. He’d had his ups and downs in the public eye. It was only natural that he would attract weirdos. He kept his details top secret: or as much as he could. He didn’t need fans hovering like flies around where he lived or trained, like out here. His own personal gym fashioned out of a hand-me-down warehouse. Surrounded by identical buildings with only numbers and rust to differentiate them, where the sea salt blew in. Out by the docks were basically the boonies for this part of Den City. 

   “I have something. For you, from someone important.” the Stranger continued.

   That piqued Go’s interest but he couldn’t recall ordering anything online. This’d be the world’s rude delivery man if that was the case anyway. Maybe a connection through his handler? At the very least, his eyebrow drew up as his hand went down. His grip was getting better by the day, back towards his peak.

   “From who?” Go asked.

   “Oh, you know. No one special. Just Playmaker.”

   Go couldn’t have whipped around quicker than if he tried. His weight clattered and clanged on the collection by his side as he hastily put it back in place. He reefed himself from the corner of the boxing ring that he’d made his seat. Sweat flew off him as he turned around and he saw.

   A guy.

   A regular old guy in a shabby hoodie and jeans. His face was obscured by his clothing. His demeanour was small, his frame skinny. He looked like he could do with putting away some hot dogs or something else fatty and full of protein. 

   “And how do you know Playmaker?” Go asked.

   “I know him because I am him.” He pulled back his hoodie and Go saw it, if he squinted, a likeness. Sharp chin, sharper green eyes, coiffed, multi-coloured hair. Not quite the same but close enough. “Fujiki Yusaku. It’s good to make your acquaintance in the flesh.”

   This guy, Yusaku, took his hand out of the pocket of his jumper and extended it forth. He walked towards Go, too, into the dim of his gym with its industrial but not very heavy duty lighting. Go was wary but he had an extensively developed opinion of Playmaker so he trusted that he would discern the truth of if this guy was who he said he was.

   Now Go and Playmaker had had a tumultuous relationship in the not so distant past. Jealousy. Vengeance. Spite. Go put Playmaker through a needless wringer because he couldn’t cope with the idea of sharing a spotlight with someone who didn’t even want it. He’d grown up so rough, on the streets and in and out of that orphanage, he’d had to work so hard, day and night, to even get the time of day. Let alone a stage to duel on or a ring to box on. Then all of a sudden, someone achieves the success that he’d dreamt of since he was child… Completely by accident?

   It pissed Go off.

   It shouldn’t have but it did. 

   To that end, Go went to some dark places. Mentally and physically. But now he was on the up and up. His body was going strong again after all he had done to it with the Neuron Link and such. He wasn’t sure his image would ever be the same but as he once more donned the costume of the heel beloved by children, Go felt that he could be back and bigger than ever.

   He wasn’t just looking to fill his old shoes but Playmaker’s as well. They had a kinship. Go knew when someone was having fun and he knew that Playmaker had fun in that duel. Hence why he dogged his man in the sky’s instruction to divert and get out. It was for that reason, and many more as Go heard how Playmaker’s voice went raw as he told him to cut it out, to abandon his mission of hunting the Ignis for SOL Tech during those duels that he meant well. That he cared for Go’s wellbeing as an ally.

   That kind of person who was shielded but caring underneath made Go think that Playmaker, who was MIA by the way, would pull a stunt like this. Sure, turning up out of the blue with no warning had his fingerprints all over it but in meat space? Surely not. He didn’t encourage fan behaviour of any sort, positive or negative, so this probably wasn’t a random pulling a prank either. Honestly, in all honesty, Go was willing to believe that this was Playmaker and when they shook on it. That belief turned to fact.

   The connection between them was like lighting. The same sensation Go got during their duel. So, he gripped Yusaku’s hand hard and met his eyes with a grin: satisfied that Playmaker’s IRL identity had been verified.

   At such a gesture, as he shook back, Yusaku didn’t smile but something like fondness tugged on his lips, “It’s good to see you again, old friend.” He let go first.

   “Dunno if I’d go that far.” Go replied dryly.

   “I’d like to.” Yusaku admitted. He slipped his hand back into the hoodie’s joey pouch.

   If Go had to guess, given that he didn’t have a package or similar on his person, that was probably where he was keeping this mystery gift. Another thing Go thought about Playmaker was that if he had something for him, it’d be a material object. It wouldn’t just be warm fuzzies and feelings. 

   “Because I’ve been thinking.” Yusaku continued since Go didn’t put a word in after his initial admittance. “You were the first person to make me enjoy dueling for the first time in a long time. I wanted to honour that. I took some time to myself, to think deeply, to pursue what I wanted.”

   Go guffawed. If this was Yusaku’s explanation as to why Playmaker had been missing in action, it wasn’t a very good one. The buzz of realisation that he was gone with no known reason caused a media frenzy. Speculation and theories kept two bit reporter’s lights on for weeks. Go didn’t put any stock in what he heard, it was all greedy gobbledygook as far as he was concerned. He didn’t have any insider knowledge, since he didn’t know the real life identities of Playmaker’s allies but still.

   He knew better than anyone that cutting everyone off and putting oneself into an isolation chamber to overthink wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing but he’d let Yusaku air his thoughts. After all, maybe he had actually done something productive with that time but Go had his doubts. His face reflected as much as he listened to Yusaku’s story with a stern, unmoving expression.

   A lot of it put into context what Go had understood from briefings and meetings at SOL Tech. It was all on a need to know basis and for a bounty hunter like him and a figurehead like Queen, most of it was not given to Go. So, what he heard made his stomach turn. He lost any resemblance of neutral composure after that. It was all disgust and anger. Including some turned towards himself but Yusaku spoke on, unaffected.

   The Lost Incident… Scary didn’t begin to cover it. It was horrifying, it was sick and evil.

   But Yusaku had lived to tell the tale, and everything else, too, how he scratched and clawed his way to doing the unbelievable: he brought a dead Ignis back to life. 

   Go couldn’t believe it but he could believe it. Playmaker was one determined son of a gun, a shining hero who hated being called a hero and preferred the shadows to the spotlight, who pulled tricks not out of a hat but a Data Storm but Yusaku… Yusaku seemed like a different character entirely. 

   “And what I wanted was… To connect my bonds. So here. Proof of that.” Yusaku said.

   He took his other hand out of his hoodie’s pouch but whatever he had, it was enclosed in his fist. Go put his hand out, underneath Yusaku’s and Yusaku nodded. He uncurled his fingers from his palm and a small, plastic object dropped into Go’s hand.

   “Here you go.” Yusaku said. “I little birdie told me you like handmade things so I 3D printed this for you.”

   Yusaku glanced at the far wall as he spoke. That didn’t miss Go’s notice. He also implicitly knew what had caught Yusaku’s attention all of a sudden: the handmade championship belt. It was shaped like a lion and made from paper mache. The children of the orphanage that he raised money for were the ones who made it. With some help from their teachers, too, of course.

   “3D printed, huh?” Go said. He pulled his hand back and manoeuvred the object to his fingers. “A bit fancy to call it handmade, don’t you think?”

   Yusaku shrugged.

   Go inspected the Tinkercad project and his brows upturned in playful surprise, “Oi, oi, what’s this?”

   “A championship ring.” Yusaku said. “I’m not well versed with sports prizes but I did some looking online. It seems that these aren’t uncommon. I estimated your ring size based on your Link VRAINS avatar.”

   “A bit homoerotic to gift a man a ring, don’t you think?” Go mused. He, himself, wasn’t even sure what the intention of that statement was. A complaint? Admiration? It mattered not. “It doesn’t even look like it’ll fit me. Some keyboard bro you are.”

   Yusaku clarified with a neutral voice, “Because it's not meant to go on that finger. It's a pinkie ring. Therefore, it should fit your pinkie but if not, I’m sure you can find somewhere special to keep it. After all, it can’t be resized as its costume jewellery.” Yusaku explained.

   Go cracked a smile. The ring was emblazoned with a lion motif as well: carved into the plastic. It was solid blue in colour but had been handpainted here and there to add definition: black ink for eyes, yellow for the fur. If he squinted, it kind of reminded him of one of his Gouki cards. So, all in all, Go appreciated the effort, he liked in particular how rough around the edges it was. This was, genuinely, something someone with little expertise would create and the way the plastic was flecked implied that’s where it had been broken free from the cocoon it was printed from.

   The least he could do was try it on. Yusaku watched silently, his green eyes enormous, for the moment of truth.

   Go turned his hand inwards. He extended his pinkie finger and it slid on like magic.

   “Well done.” Go complimented him.

   “Thank you.” Yusaku said. “I thought it would suit you. Or, perhaps hoped is more accurate. I thought a pinkie ring would complement my intentions with you.”

   He lifted his hand. His pinkie finger extended.

   “I don’t remember much of my childhood because of the Incident, but I know this: when children mean something, they pinkie promise on it.” Yusaku said. “I know you cherish the innocence of childhood, that you would do anything to protect the innocence of your charges at the orphanage. They look up to you. As do many others… Including me. I want a pinkie promise with you.”

   “And what exactly would we be making a pinkie promise for?” Go said.

   “That we will keep having fun duels together.” Yusaku said. “I want to enjoy our bond: you are the first man, no, first person, to ever make me feel this way so promise me. We’ll put the past behind us and enjoy the future.”

   Go smirked. Talk about putting the cart before the horse. The ring should come after the confession but so be it. Yusaku knew how to play on his heartstrings. But he felt the same way. He wanted the past behind him just as badly, for different reasons but just as badly nevertheless.

   Go nodded. He couldn’t leave Yusaku hanging a moment longer with those words out there, in his head and his heart. So, he raised his hand and he extended forth his pinkie finger, adorned with the ring Yusaku had gifted him, and their fingers wrapped around one another. 

   “Cross my heart and hope to die.” Go said. 

   “Stick a needle in my eye.” Yusaku unsurely finished the verse.