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Post by Scribbler on Jan 13, 2012 20:16:49 GMT -5
Throughout history, there have always been those who believe in the unknown. They’re the ones who say magic exists. In olden times they were taken seriously, even revered, but that ceased centuries ago. Despite belief in magic falling out of fashion, there have always been those who claim to have magical powers. They have paraded themselves in public and hidden in shadows; sold their skills or hoarded them like secrets. They have called themselves different names – magician, sorcerer, wizard, witch, shaman – but the basic assertion has remained the same: magic is real.
Except that everyone knows magic doesn’t exist.
Just like those who claim magic is real, there have always been those who claim the opposite. These are the ones who set out to prove magic doesn’t exist and reveal fakers for who and what they are. These are the sceptics, the scientists, the cynics and non-believers. Since fakers have always outnumbered the genuine article in humanity’s long and complicated history, these are the voices that became loudest in the modern age. Magic was reduced to parlour tricks and entertainment a children’s birthday parties. Those who claimed to have ‘real’ powers were laughed at and ridiculed. After all, magic doesn’t really exist.
Right?
….
They were called the Gifted. That was what several news reporters dubbed them, anyway, and because it was easier to remember than the official ‘psychosomatic anomalies’, less likely to be laughed at than ‘psychics’ and shorter than ‘freaky kids who can do freaky stuff science can’t explain however hard it tries’, the nickname stuck.
At first, the Gifted were so few and far between, they went unnoticed. People who want it badly enough can rationalise away anything: a boy who starts fires with his mind becomes a plain old pyromaniac with a good arm for throwing away his lighter when he’s about to get caught; a girl who can read the history of any object just by touching it is called a good observer and earmarked as a prodigy for CSI; a child who can rupture veins and arteries while they’re still inside the body is locked away where nobody has to think about what he can do. However, when more and more teenagers began developing powers, the rest of the world had to sit up and take notice. The teenage years are notoriously tough anyway, but throw in magical powers that appear around the time your hormones start going crazy and you have a recipe for disaster.
Nobody knew what had suddenly caused the Gifted to appear, and that had as many widespread consequences as the Gifted and their gifts themselves.
The situation started ugly and got worse. The Gifted were subjects of study. They were ‘invited’ to scientific and government-run institutions where they were poked and prodded to see what made them tick. They had tests run on them and performed tricks like monkeys in a circus to prove what they could do. Some were considered dangerous and so they were incarcerated ‘for the good of all normal people’. Some went into hiding when they realised the disturbing trends on the news and being reported on Internet message boards. The world was nervous of them and so reacted the way it always does when something new and scary turns up: badly.
After years of growing persecution, those Gifted who had survived outside the institutions and ‘designated custodial centres’ (which were just prisons with another name) tried to make provisions for the next generation. It’s in one of these establishments that we start our story.
Welcome to Pegasus Academy. We hope you enjoy your stay.
Or at least survive it.
….
The crowd around the front gate had placards and bullhorns. Yuugi had always thought that kind of thing was just in movies and bad TV specials. The limo nosed forward slowly, trying not to hit any of the protestors. They responded by clustering around the sides and bonnet, thumping their hands on the paintwork and making the driver curse.
“Go home!” yelled one woman. A thin sheet of glass was all that separated her from Yuugi. The glass was tinted, which cast her scowling face in even uglier shadows. “Quit importing yourselves into our city!”
“Domino doesn’t want you!” a man in a pristine business suit shouted. He looked out of place amongst the abundance of jeans and string vests. Maybe he had just stopped in on his way to work. A number of protestors were wearing custom-made tee-shirts with pretty much the same comments printed on them that they were spewing at the car.
Yuugi sank back. He was from this city, but didn’t think that would make much difference to them. The news last night had been full of the story of a young wind-magic user, newly into his powers, who had lured his bullies onto the roof of his school so he could reveal he was Gifted and blow them over the edge. While Gifted kids usually had only one power at first, and could develop more later as they refined their hold over their magic, when they first came into their magic it was wild and uncontrollable. That was why places like Pegasus Academy had been set up – and why that little bullied wind-user had also blown himself off the roof by mistake and died along with his tormenters. People had reacted not with sympathy, but with contempt. There were always a few protestors outside the Academy, but today they had come out in full force as a reaction to the news story. It was just unfortunate this was also the day Yuugi arrived at his new home.
“Don’t worry, kid,” the driver said through the lowered partition. “They’re a bunch of nut-jobs, but they know better than to cross into the property itself. Mr. Pegasus would slap them with a lawsuit so fast, they’d have whiplash.”
Yuugi made a noise of assent. He was terrified. Partly it was the cartoonish protestors, but mostly it was the prospect of what was happening to him. He could still see his Grandpa’s face as he waved the car off, and remembered the way he had looked out the back window of the car to see the old man bend double and wipe tears from his eyes. They were the only family each other had and now they had been separated.
It was for the best, he told himself. I need to learn how to deal with this and I can’t risk hurting him while I do it. He said he’d visit as soon as it was okay. Yuugi clenched his fists on his lap. I have to learn fast so I can see him again as soon as possible.
The ornate metal gates closed behind the car and it swept up the long driveway at a much faster clip. When it pulled up in front of the school a figure rushed out. She wore the distinctive girls’ uniform of a pink blazer and pleated blue skirt, which made it easier for the driver to spot her and swerve so he didn’t hit her when she rushed out.
“Sorry!” she mouthed before wrenching open the door. “Yuugi!”
“Anzu!” he said with delight. He had been hoping he would see her, but was surprised she was the one to greet him. She had been here six months already and he had only seen her via computer in all that time. She practically dragged him out and hugged him so tight that breathing became an issue. “An … zu …”
“Whoops. Sorry.” She released him. “I’m just so pleased to see you.” The brightness of her smile could have powered an entire avenue of streetlights for a week. “I can’t believe you’re actually here!”
Yuugi wasn’t quite so pleased at the reason, but Anzu’s happiness was infectious.
“Sorry, but I just have to hug you again.”
“Um, okay – ack!”
“Miss Mazaki,” drawled a new voice. “If you could kindly refrain from crushing our newest student before he has even set foot inside, I’m sure both of us would be very grateful.”
Anzu unclasped herself and turned around. “Sorry, Mr. Pegasus.” She didn’t sound sorry. She still sounded like she was grinning and it was starting to hurt her cheeks.
An opulent looking man in a red suit advanced towards them. He had long silver hair, straight enough to look like he had ironed it that morning, which he kept swept in front of one half of his face. He held out a hand for Yuugi to shake. When Yuugi took it, the handshake was firm but not especially powerful. On first impression the owner, maintainer, headmaster and namesake of Pegasus Academy seemed quite effeminate. It was only when you caught his one visible eye, which flashed with intelligence and the casual thoughtlessness of the very rich, that you realised there was more to him.
“Welcome to the Academy, Yuugi Mutou,” Pegasus said. “We’re always happy to receive another Gifted to our roll. We may be a small school, but we’re a growing one. I’m sure you find all you need and more here.”
Yuugi dropped his eyes, thinking of the magic inside him that he now needed to learn how to control, and murmured, “Yeah. Thank you.”
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Post by cypsiman2 on Jan 13, 2012 23:46:44 GMT -5
"So, Yuugi, you ready to get to your room and start unpacking?" Anzu turned back to Yuugi after Mr. Pegasus departed, her smile much reduced from the exuberant grin it had once been. Her cheeks really had gotten sore.
"Umm, sure, but it's not like I've got all that much with me." Yuugi had a small suitcase in each arm, nothing compared to what Anzu had brought with her.
"That's okay, that just gives me more time to show you around." It was like a nuclear missile would have just bounced off Anzu's good cheer. The truth of the matter was that having to spend six months at the Pegasus Academy, away from Yuugi save for over the computer, it made her realize just how important he was to her and how much she never wanted to be apart from him for even half that long ever again. Naturally, her new friends had ribbed and teased her over it, but it was good natured, all in good fun, and of course, considering the turmoil Yuugi was dealing with right now, there was no way Anzu was going to freak him out. At least, not anymore than she already had with hugging him so tightly, twice.
"That sounds good Anzu." His smile reinvigorated Anzu, and as she took him down the hall to his room, which was of course on the opposite end from hers, there were moments when she just couldn't keep the skip out of her step.
"Hi hi, Anzu!" An almost unbearably chipper voice broke the silence.
"Miho, what are you doing at this end?" Anzu asked her new friend.
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Post by Scribbler on Jan 14, 2012 15:38:11 GMT -5
Miho tipped her head to one side and smiled. Her eyes crinkled and her whole body inclined to one side in a manner that, combined with her childish ponytail, yellow ribbon and minimal make-up, could only be described as ‘cute’. “Miho wanted to meet the new boy,” she said. “Anzu talked about him so much that Miho couldn’t wait any longer.”
Anzu cast a look at Yuugi, who had stopped staring at their sumptuous surroundings to stare at Miho. She had to admit, for those who hadn’t been forewarned, Miho could be something of a shock. Her habit of referring to herself in the third person and her determined commitment to all things cute could be a little overwhelming.
True to form, Miho wiggled her fists under her chin and squealed, “He’s so cuuuuuuute!”
“Yuugi.” Anzu surreptitiously stepped between them. “This is Miho Nosaka. She’s my friend here at the Academy.”
“Miho adopted Anzu from Day One!” Miho nodded vigorously. “She had the cutest stationary – all covered in little peaches.”
Yuugi looked up at Anzu. The stationary had been his gift to her when she left Domino High. The morning her own limo came to pick her up and bring her to Pegasus Academy, she had made them stop outside the Game Store, knowing Yuugi would already be at school, and had left a pencil with a fuzzy topper she had painstakingly pulled out of other toppers and glued together so it looked like his hair. She had meant to give it to him in person the night before, but lost her nerve. She hadn’t wanted him to see how scared she was, or start crying on him, and couldn’t promise herself she wouldn’t, so instead she had taken the coward’s way out and given it to his grandfather to pass along.
Anzu cleared her throat. “I was just showing Yuugi to his room.” She turned to Yuugi, business-like. “There are few enough students here that we all get our own rooms – though Mr. Pegasus says that if our roll increases we may have to start doubling up. The girls’ rooms are upstairs in the East Wing, the boys’ are in the West Wing and the faculty have rooms scattered through the South and North. You’ll meet the teachers and other staff later, I expect. For now, you’re supposed to leave your bags here and I’m to take you to get fitted for your uniform.”
Yuugi eyed the pink blazer, making her laugh.
“Don’t worry, boys wear blue.”
“Although they’d look so pretty in pink,” Miho chimed in.
“It says here my room is number 16.” Yuugi consulted the letter he had been sent in preparation for today. Anzu recognised it as a standard template like she and Miho had both gotten when their powers emerged and their parents opted for Pegasus Academy.
There was no law that said Gifted kids had to go to a special school, but it was risky to stay in a mainstream one. Aside from people acting like the mob outside the gate, Gifted had to learn about their magic and how to use it or they became a danger to themselves and others. Thankfully, unlike Pegasus’s generation, kids today had the benefit of adults who had already learned those skills and were happy to pass them on. Pegasus Academy was small compared to places like the Kaiba Institute, which sat just outside town and was rumoured to be more like a boot camp than a school. Gozaburo Kaiba was often quoted in newspapers saying terrible things about Pegasus Academy, but Anzu knew she would rather be here than there. Actually, she would rather be anywhere than there and was glad Yuugi’s grandpa had enough sense to send him here, where she was. Anzu may have only been learning to control her magic for six months, but she intended to help Yuugi as much as she could – as soon as he told her what his powers actually were. He had been very cagey on the subject and she hadn’t wanted to pry if he wasn’t ready to share. Nearly everyone here had horror stories of when their powers first appeared – collateral damage, destruction of property, injuring their loved ones and causing psychological damage to themselves from fear and frustration. Anzu shuddered.
“Is Anzu cold?” Miho asked.
“No,” Anzu replied. “Room 16, was that?” Anzu stepped along two doors and tapped the gold plate bearing the number. “Here we are. There are no locks on the doors, I’m afraid.”
“Mr. Pegasus and the teachers are afraid students would hurt themselves and nobody would be able to save them without breaking down the doors.”
“Thank you, Miho,” Anzu said, a trifle sharply. Yuugi’s eyes had gone wide, so she hastily explained, “A couple of the earlier students here were … well, it had been a while and nobody had taught them anything about their powers, so they’d been coping alone, and one kind of … snapped. He’d been living on the streets, so he wasn’t used to people helping him. He was so suspicious that he convinced himself Mr. Pegasus and the teachers were keeping him here to experiment on him, so he … uh …” How to put it delicately?
Miho pulled a face. “He could turn water into ice. He locked himself in and cut his own wrists with just a bottle of water. It was icky. Miho wasn’t here then, but she heard all about it.” She shivered theatrically.
“THANK you, Miho.”
“You’re welcome.” Miho totally didn’t get sarcasm.
Anzu sighed and opened the door, ushering Yuugi inside. The room was simple but plush. Deep pile carpet shushed beneath their feet and all the furniture was made of dark wood. The window didn’t have bars, but it was made from reinforced glass and the part that opened was tiny and near the top, the better to prevent people who couldn’t fly from jumping out – although Anzu knew for a fact that kids who COULD fly circumvented this by just going up to the roof and jumped from there.
“It’s … nice,” Yuugi said in surprise.
“You thought it wouldn’t be?” said Anzu.
“I don’t know what I thought.” Yuugi hesitated before putting his suitcases down. He glanced at the digital clock on the bedside cabinet, eyes briefly straying to the desk, wardrobe, chest of drawers and flat-screen TV on the wall.
“The bathroom is down the hall,” Anzu explained. “All the boys share the one in this wing. We have our own in the girls’ wing. Do you need to freshen up?”
“No,” Yuugi said softly. “I’m good.” He looked so sad that Anzu wanted to hug him again and tell him it would all be okay, but sensed this would not be the best course of action. Instead she briskly turned on her heel and marched back out into the corridor. “C’mon, let’s get you outfitted. Mr. Pegasus let us all off classes this morning in honour of your arrival.”
“He did?” Yuugi blinked. “The whole school?”
“It’s a small school,” Anzu shrugged. “I better warn you, he loves ceremony and showing off. There’s an assembly right before lunch where you get introduced to everyone.”
“What?” Yuugi looked positively panic-stricken.
“So cuuuute!” Miho squealed under her breath. “Like a little puppy dog!”
“It’ll be fine,” Anzu promised. “Now hurry up. You can unpack later. Miss Kujaku will be waiting to take your measurements.”
“Miss Kujaku?” Yuugi echoed.
“A teacher,” said Anzu.
“Not just a teacher!” Miho said indignantly. “The most beautiful, well-dressed, gorgeous, CUTE teacher in the WHOLE school! Miho wants to be just like her when she grows up.”
“Uh …” Yuugi looked uncertain.
Anzu shook her head. “She’s pretty cool. C’mon, let’s go before Miho starts talking about how great her clothes are too.”
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Post by cypsiman2 on Jan 14, 2012 17:14:09 GMT -5
Upon entering Miss Kujaku's office, Yuugi was paralyzed with both eyes stuck wide open; Despite his feelings for Anzu, despite the fact that he wasn't an ordinary boy, the fact was that he was a boy, and women like Miss Kujaku had that effect on boys like him. Then he heard Anzu clear her throat, and saw the glare in her eye, more then enough to break the spell.
"Oh, don't be mad at him Anzu." Miss Kujaku said with an amused tone and a smirk on her face, accenting her beauty mark. "You know I can't help making a striking first impression." Suddenly the beauty mark vanished, and the whole room seemed to get dimmer. Yuugi realized that Miss Kujaku had been shining with her own inner light, her power. At least, one expression of her power. "Now, let me take a look at you, Mr. Mutou." Despite the toned-down, more human level of beauty that she'd assumed, Yuugi still found it difficult to keep composed as she walked up to him. She walked around Yuugi, humming every so often as though in appraisal. "You better be careful Mr. Mutou, there are more than a few girls here who'd gobble you right up given half a chance."
"Heh heh, thanks?" Yuugi recalled Miho's squealing and blanched.
"Miss Kujaku." Anzu spoke firmly. "Didn't you say you needed his measurements?"
"Fine, I'll get to work." With that all humor was leeched out from her demeanor, transforming Miss Kujaku into a pure professional as she got out the measuring tape. "Mr. Mutou, hold still and move only when I tell you, understand?" He nodded and braced as she measured his arms, his chest, his legs, and particularly the inseam. "Right, everything's in order, just one last detail to take care of; Mr. Mutou, do your powers involve any sort of personal physical transformation?"
"Ummm, no, they don't." Yuugi was thankful that Miss Kujaku's question was as precise as it was, for while it wasn't physical, his powers did change him into something...not himself. He still had trouble remembering just what he was like in that state, and from what his Grandpa had told him, it wasn't anything good.
"All right then. I'll get started on the uniform, it should be ready for you tomorrow, in time for your first class here." Miss Kujaku checked her watch. "Well, looks like you've got a little time before the assembly, why don't you go ahead and show your friend the library, Anzu?"
"Sure thing." Anzu grabbed Yuugi's hand and was a little quick to pull him out of Miss Kujaku's office, giving him only a moment to notice the smirk of amusement on the teacher's face.
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Post by Scribbler on Jan 16, 2012 10:16:19 GMT -5
“What was that?” Yuugi asked when they were a suitable distance from the office.
“That,” Anzu sighed, “was Miss Mai Kujaku. She’s actually not that much older than us – she was one of Mr. Pegasus’s first students here. She stayed on to help afterwards. She’s also a languages teacher – we all study at least one foreign language as part of the curriculum here. When she was younger, Miss Kujaku’s family were really rich and she spent a lot of vacations in Europe, so she’s fluent in, like, a bazillion languages. When her magic appeared her family went ape and disowned her. She worked underage as a bunny girl on cruise ships until Mr. Pegasus found her and brought her here. She was so grateful that when she should have graduated and moved on, she went to night school and got a teacher qualification so she could stay here instead.”
“That’s really interesting, but I actually meant what was all … THAT.” Yuugi waved a hand on front of his face, indicating the wash of power that had transformed Miss Kujaku from beautiful to inhumanly gorgeous and back again.
“Oh!” Anzu laughed. “Sorry. I can’t help running off at the mouth, I guess. That was Miss Kujaku’s magic. She’s empathic, which means she can sense people’s emotions, and she can make herself seem more attractive according to what they want to see. She can manipulate people’s emotions and thoughts too, but she doesn’t do that anymore.”
“Anymore?”
Anzu nodded. “She’s really open about how she used to misuse her powers; I guess so we don’t do the same. On the cruise ships, she would pick out old rich guys and manipulate them into giving her wads of cash as tips, or fur coats and jewellery they’d bought for their wives and mistresses. That’s actually how she met Mr. Pegasus – she tried to use her magic on him but it didn’t work. He sensed what she was doing and what she was, so he offered her a place at the school.”
“Mr. Pegasus sounds like a great guy.”
“I guess.” Anzu shrugged. “He’s a little eccentric, which puts a lot of people off. By the way, if you get sent to his office and the inner door at the back of the room is shut, don’t knock on it. Not even if another teacher sent you.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know exactly what’s back there, but he gets really mad if anyone disturbs him while he’s in there. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen him get truly angry. The rest of the time he’s fine – but, like I said, eccentric.”
Yuugi wondered what she meant by ‘eccentric’, but they had arrived at a set of ornate wooden doors labelled ‘Library’. Anzu pushed them open and gestured him inside.
“We keep the computers in here too,” she explained. “Obviously there are all sorts of safeguarding locks on the system, so a bunch of webpages don’t load because they come under the ‘forbidden for underage reasons’ heading, but the technology is all up-to-date and we have Wi-Fi in our rooms if we want. The school doesn’t provide laptops for students, but we each get a stipend per semester that we can choose to spend how we like. It’s kind of like getting an allowance, only we can only spend it on campus or if there’s a supervised visit off campus – and since the last time one of those happened, things didn’t go well …” She trailed off and shook her head. “Never mind. That’s not important. We’re encouraged to read, but you can probably guess that not many do.”
Yuugi wanted to know what had happened on the last fieldtrip, but he could see the topic made Anzu uncomfortable, so instead he said, “Just like regular school.” He thought of the practically unused Domino High library, where if books were taken out it was just so kids could wet the pages and throw them at the bathroom ceilings. Or at him.
Even before he learned he was Gifted, he had been bullied for the crimes of being small, slight and for his love of games. If you weren’t built like a line-backer and hiding girly magazines in your desk, you lived each day in fear of wedgies, swirlies and just plain getting punched. While Anzu had been there, he had at least had one friend, but when she left he had been forced into a survival mode not unlike a mouse in a cattery.
“We have textbooks in that section.” Anzu swiped a hand at rows and rows of tall, tightly packed shelves around in a circle, the end of each row pointed outward so you could slip between them to the centre of the room. “Fiction books in this section.” Another gesture at slightly lower shelves beyond those – although they all still towered over Yuugi. “And periodicals and newspapers and stuff in this – oh!” She stopped short. Yuugi nearly ran into her and had to peer around the side of her body to see what had provoked her reaction.
A girl sat at one of the tables in the centre of the shelf carousel. She was absolutely tiny and wore her blonde hair in pigtails, which made her look even younger. When she looked up, Yuugi saw a spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks, some enlarged by the thick lenses in her glasses. She stared expressionlessly at Anzu, as if still emerging from whatever she had been reading in the huge book propped on the table in front of her by several other, smaller books. When she stood up, Yuugi could see she was wearing a blue suit that had to have been custom made. Nobody sold office wear in such a small size.
“Mazaki,” she said.
“Hello, Rebecca,” Anzu said stiffly.
“Miss Hopkins,” the girl corrected. She nodded at Yuugi. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Yuugi Mutou.”
“The new student?” The girl’s large blue-green eyes widened. “I thought you said he was your age?”
“He is!”
She didn’t look convinced.
“I’m sixteen,” Yuugi said, hoping to dispel the tension he could feel gathering like storm clouds.
His own feelings dipped back into lost. He was aware of how out of place he was in this world. Anzu had built a life for herself with these new people, her new powers and her new future. He, by contrast, had muddled along in the one she left behind and was now expected to slot in here like a missing jigsaw piece when he had no idea what he was doing. He barely even understood the nature of his own magic, just the kind of situation that would set it off. He supposed he was lucky: at least his powers seemed designed to save his life rather than endanger it, the way others’ were.
Abruptly the girl – Rebecca or Miss Hopkins, Yuugi wasn’t sure what to refer to her by – widened her eyes and said slightly breathlessly, “Has your magic restricted your growth?”
“Uh, no,” Yuugi admitted. “I was sick a lot when I was really little. The doctors said it stunted me a bit.”
She looked disappointed. “Oh.” Drawing herself up, she asked Anzu, “Did you want something in particular?”
“I was just showing Yuugi around, giving him the whistle stop tour before the assembly,” Anzu explained. She consulted her watch. “We still have nearly an hour before we have to go down to the auditorium.”
“Well … feel free to explore, I guess.” The ‘I guess’ made her sound younger than she obviously wanted. She folded her arms and shook back her hair, which also didn’t help if she was trying to seem older. She couldn’t be more than nine or ten. “If you have any questions, Yuugi, feel free to ask me.”
“Uh, sure … Miss Hopkins?”
She smiled. “I teach ICT here,” she said triumphantly, shocking Yuugi.
“You … do?”
Anzu rolled her eyes but said nothing.
“Yes,” said Miss Hopkins. “I do. Everyone takes the class here in the library, so I’ll be seeing you around.”
“C’mon, Yuugi,” Anzu muttered. “You’ve seen the library. Book, books computers, books, table, ceiling, chairs, windows, weird stain where some bozo loosed a fireball and nearly barbequed the whole building – aaaand we’re done.” She opened the double doors and shoved him out the exit.
“Whoa!” Yuugi nearly tripped over his own feet. “Watch out!”
“Sorry.” Anzu sighed with relief when the door shut behind them. “But she makes me so mad. You know she’s only ten years old? She was some child prodigy way before she found out she was Gifted – AND she’s a prodigy for that, too. Usually powers don’t kick in until you’re around fifteen or sixteen, but OF COURSE Rebecca’s came early. She likes to make out that she’s already a teacher, but the truth is Mr. Pegasus gave her the ICT class because she’s a complete tech-head and better at it than anyone else. She still takes regular classes as well, but she insists on wearing that stupid suit instead of her uniform when she’s not playing the part of the regular-but-not-really-beause-she’s-SO-great-and-wonderful-and-blech student.” Anzu stopped, breathing hard from her outburst.
Yuugi stared at her. “I’m guessing you and she don’t get on.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Just a smidge.”
Anzu grinned. “Oh, Yuugi, I’ve missed having you around to talk to. Miho’s great, but she doesn’t get me the way you do. You’re my best friend and I’m really glad we’re going to be in school together again.”
Yuugi felt his cheeks start to burn, even as his stomach sank at the word ‘friend’. “I’ve, uh, missed you too, Anzu.” He decided to change the subject before his whole face turned red. “So what are, um, Miss Hopkins’s –“
“Rebecca.”
“What are Rebecca’s powers?”
“Clairvoyance. Oh and a Third Eye.”
“Huh?”
“Clairvoyance means she can see things from far away.”
“Can’t everyone do that?”
Anzu laughed. “I guess I walked into that one. I’m not very good at explaining this stuff. It’ll be easier when you get categorised and have your personal tutor assigned.”
“What?” Yuugi was thoroughly confused. “I thought this was just like a regular school but with extra classes in, uh, magic control and stuff.”
“It is, but every Gifted has a different inclination in their power.” At his expression, Anzu went on, “The way I understand it is this: we all have this bundle of magic inside us, which is raw energy. That’s the thing that makes us Gifted in the first place; but every Gifted kid has a talent that their energy channels into. That’s their power. It’s like, everyone in the world is naturally talented at something. Having ‘talent’ is basic, but what we’re talented at differs from person to person. It’s the same with magic: we’re all Gifted, but we’re Gifted in different ways. Like Miss Kujaku is empathic and telepathic. She’s personal tutor to kids with mental or emotional powers. It means once or twice a week she has counselling sessions with them and gives them extra tuition in their particular type of magic that they wouldn’t get out of regular classes about how to control magic.”
“Like … art classes teach you about all types of painting, but oil painting classes teach you how to be better at just oils?” Yuugi tried, reaching for an allegory that made sense.
“Exactly!” Anzu looked relived that he understood her explanation. “Mr. Pegasus and some other faculty members will give you some tests and examine you to see which personal tutor would best suit you.” She looked sidelong at him. “Of course, you’ll have to tell them all about your powers and how they first appeared for that.”
Yuugi ducked his head. He wasn’t ready to tell Anzu about that. He still had nebulous nightmares, made of the half-clear memories of what had happened … He shook his head to make the thoughts go away. “So who’s Rebecca’s personal tutor?”
“Miss Kujaku. Clairvoyance means Rebecca can see things when she’s nowhere near them. She has what’s called a Third Eye, which means she can separate part of herself off from her body and send it out to look at stuff. I hear she can also look into people’s dreams, but Miss Kujaku is really strict about privacy with her students – theirs and everyone else’s. If your power is mental or emotional, you better get used to lectures about keeping your nose out of other people’s business.”
Yuugi sighed. It all seemed so complicated.
“Cheer up, Yuugi.” Anzu leaned down so she could bump shoulders with him, the way she always used to. It was a comforting move that he appreciated. “C’mon, I’ll show you the gym and the sports fields outside.”
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Post by cypsiman2 on Jan 16, 2012 14:55:33 GMT -5
"Yo, Anzu, check this out!" A brash male voice yelled out the moment Anzu and he'd stepped into the gym, and Yuugi gaped at the source; he was tall, or at least taller than Anzu, with messy blond hair hanging over his face and in his hands he held what looked like a cartoonishly oversized weight like something out of a Tom and Jerry cartoon. "A full kilo-ton, my best yet! You gotta admit, that's pretty damn impressive." The boy put the weight back down on the ground, and the sound of its impact was more than enough to assure Yuugi of its reality, that it wasn't hollowed out or a set of balloons or something like that.
"Jounouchi, if I could be impressed by something like that, don't you think I would have been back when it was only half-a-ton?" Anzu spoke like she had something sticky and yucky in her mouth. This put Yuugi on the defensive. "Where's Honda anyway?"
"Him?" Jounouchi spoke as he walked up to them. "He's out running the track, been at it all morning. And let me guess, this is the new guy?" He now stood right in front of them. "So what, his power is shrinking himself?"
"No, it isn't." Anzu spoke firmly, just a hint of edge to her voice. Jounouchi flinched a bit, making Yuugi wonder just what Anzu's power was. "This is my friend Yuugi, and you know what 'll happen to you if you mess with him, right?"
"Woah, easy there Anzu, you know we're not supposed to use our powers on one another, right?" Jounouchi took another nervous step back. "Besides, why would I mess with the little dweeb...guh!" Jounouchi only realized his poor choice of words in the aftermath of speaking them. He tried to move away, only to suddenly stop as though he'd hit an invisible wall. "Come on Anzu, take it easy on me, I didn't mean nothing by it, honest!"
"You know I didn't put up with bullies on the outside, and I don't put up with them here, got that?"
"Umm, Anzu?" Yuugi cleared his throat. "Don't you think you're overreacting a bit? I mean, I, I am kind of a dweeb."
"Yuugi, don't you ever say that about yourself!" Her focus re-directed, the invisible wall she'd created vanished, causing Jounouchi to fall flat on his back. As he ran off to the track, he flashed a quick thumbs-up to Yuugi that he only barely caught sight of, and Anzu not at all.
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Post by Scribbler on Jan 18, 2012 21:55:06 GMT -5
“Yuugi!” Anzu said insistently.
“Um …” Yuugi felt distinctly uncomfortable. He wanted to ask about the invisible force that had prevented Jounouchi leaving, but could tell from Anzu’s eyes that she was not going to let this go. “But I am. I’m not insulted or anything. I accepted what I am a long time ago.”
She frowned. “There’s a difference between accepting yourself and belittling yourself.”
“Only if you let words mean more than they do.” He offered her a reassuring smile. “Sticks and stones, right?”
Her expression faltered.
At that moment, a cry went up from outside. Both their heads snapped around. It had come from the door through which Jounouchi had made his exit.
“What was that?” Yuugi asked nervously. In the outside world that sort of noise meant either a mugging or that a pack of bullies had caught up with some poor kid. In this place … he honestly had no idea. For all he knew, a flock of pink and purple polka-dotted polar bears were pirouetting across the track and had trodden on someone’s toe on their way past. Given what he had seen and learned so far, Yuugi wasn’t totally able to discount the possibility.
In reply, Anzu headed towards the noise. Yuugi scurried after her, but stopped when she did.
“Oh brother,” Anzu said with disgust. “Not these guys.”
“Get back here, you little twerps, so I can rip you a new one!” Jounouchi sprinted towards them, his face thunderous and coated in what looked like the canned silly string Yuugi’s grandpa always bought at New Year. It was in Jounouchi’s hair and dripped stickily onto his neck and tee-shirt bearing the Academy logo: a stylised eye surrounded by a circle. “I said get BACK here!”
“As if!” Two little kids scampered ahead of him. They were even smaller than Yuugi, which shocked him when they pulled up and he could see their faces. They weren’t little kids at all. In fact, they could only be a shade younger than him, if they had grown into their magic and ended up in this school.
“Hold it!” Anzu thrust out a palm like a traffic warden.
“Aw, nuts,” said the kid with the unfortunate haircut. It looked like someone had plonked a mixing bowl over his head and cut around it with a pair of blunt scissors. He shoved a pair of thick-framed glasses up his nose and treated Anzu to the same look of disgust she had levelled at him. “It’s Nut-Buster.”
The other boy glanced over his shoulder at the approaching Jounouchi. His most distinguishing feature was a red beanie pulled over wild brown hair that tufted purple at the front and clashed terribly with his blue uniform. “Crap,” he hissed. “Why the hell did you have to slime him?”
“He was asking for it.”
“Well now he’s going to macramé your face – and probably mine too!”
“You!” Jounouchi towered over them. He wiped gunge from his eyes and tried to flick it onto the ground, but it stuck to his fingers like gobbets of off-white glue. Yuugi could have sworn he heard teeth start to crack from being clenched so hard. “What. The. Hell?”
“He did it!” Beanie Boy pointed at his companion.
“Traitor!” Glasses hissed back. He squared his chin and shoulders. Rather than make him seem like David to Jounouchi’s Goliath, he just looked ridiculous; like a bug squaring up to a giraffe. “That was for giving me a wedgie yesterday, numb-nuts.”
Jounouchi’s eyebrows rose in fury. “That wedgie was payback for the goop you left in my shoes!”
“Well the goop in your shoes was payback for shoving my head in the toilet.”
“That swirly was payback for you putting your disgusting mitts on my little sister!”
“She was begging for it!”
“Why you little –” Jounouchi lunged for him.
With the surrealism of a dream, Glasses stepped sideways and twisted, allowing Jounouchi to cannon past him. His eyes boggled a moment before he realised his mistake and crashed into Anzu. She, in turn, flew backwards into Yuugi and the three of them ended up in a tangled heap on the floor.
Glasses laughed mockingly. “No wonder your sister turned to me, butt-munch. She was sick of you and YOUR clumsy moves.” Continuing the surrealism, he turned and his entire back seemed to shimmer for a moment, unfolding into gossamer wings that flashed in the sunlight. Yuugi couldn’t be sure if they were real or some sort of magical energy. For such an obnoxious kid, the wings were achingly beautiful. They buzzed and he lifted off the ground. “Later, losers.”
“Haga!” Beanie Boy called out, backing away from the tangled trio as if afraid he would become Jounouchi’s target in lieu of his friend. “Wait for me!”
“Sorry, pal. Every man for himself, y’know?” Glasses rammed his arms straight at his sides and shot off like a bullet – only to be whipped out of the air a moment later. He let out a yelp as he thumped to the ground on his belly, pinned by a weight that hadn’t been there before. “Get off me! Get off, or I swear, I’ll spew all over you!”
“Hey, Jounouchi, when are you gonna start cleaning up your own messes instead of relying on me to help you?”
“Hold onto him!” Jounouchi replied, extricating himself as fast as he could. “That little cretin has a date with my fist.”
“No!” Glasses struggled. “He’ll kill me! Ryuzaki, help!”
Beanie Boy shook his head derisively. “Sorry, pal. Every man for himself, y’know?”
“The deep and meaningful friendship between you two is touching,” said the tall boy still pinning Glasses. “Truly.”
Glasses stared up at Jounouchi, fear etching his features. “Heeeeelp!” Abruptly his face turned red in exertion and his mouth formed into an ‘o’. More sticky goo shot out, splattering against Jounouchi’s shoes.
He halted, yanking each leg, but they were stuck firmly to the ground. “Son of a –”
“Mazakiiii! Don’t let him hurt meeee!” High pitched as a cricket, Glasses yelled for Anzu to help him. “You’re all anti-bullying and junk, right? Well I’m being bullied! I’m a victim! You gotta save meeeee!”
Anzu muttered a curse. The sound of it vibrated through Yuugi’s chest, since Jounouchi had flipped her on top of him when he ran off. Anzu lay sprawled sideways, struggling to get up, while Yuugi lay frozen at the parts of her anatomy pressing against him. His face started to flame – not that she noticed as she got to her feet and dashed across.
“Jounouchi! Honda! Let him up right this second!”
“You’re kidding, right?” The boy pinning Glasses raised both eyebrows until they nearly touched his hairline. “I saw what he did. Jounouchi was just jogging when these two freaks jumped down from the tree and slimed him.”
“Uh, technically, I didn’t slime anybody,” Beanie pointed out.
“Traitor!” said Glasses.
“This stuff NEVER comes off,” said Jounouchi. “I just lost a perfectly good pair of sneakers. Plus, Rishid’s gonna totally spazz when he finds out I wrecked another PE kit. He nearly didn't let me back in the weight room when I shredded my last tee-shirt.”
“Rishid never spazzes over anything,” Anzu replied. “He couldn’t spazz if his life depended on it. The most he’d do would be to meditate extra hard to get you to clean up your act.” She wrinkled her nose. “And speaking of cleaning up…”
“Yeah, now I reek of Haga’s slime!” Jounouchi threw up his hands. “Just let me punch him. Just one, I swear. He deserves it.”
“No.” Anzu was firm. “What did I tell you, like, only five minutes ago?”
"That you didn't put up with bullies on the outside, and you don't put up with them here,” Jounouchi said sullenly.
“And what did you tell me about using our powers?”
“That we’re not supposed to use them on each other.”
“Especially since we’re not great at controlling them yet. What do you think would happen if you lost control and used your strength when you punched Haga?”
“He’d cave in my skull!” the boy cried. “He’d turn my brains into paté!”
“But he used his disgusting powers on me,” Jounouchi whined. “Twice!”
“And Honda used his to avenge you,” Anzu said, sarcasm dripping from her tone. “Don’t think I didn’t see you jump over here from the other side of the track, Honda.”
Jounouchi’s friend looked sheepish. “It was a good jump, though. My goal is to try leaping the school in a single bound by the end of the semester.”
“Are you gonna save me or what, bitch?” Glass demanded. “This guy’s so heavy he’s crushing my ribcage! My wings are totally ruined!”
“I’m barely touching you,” Jounouchi’s friend sniffed. “Baby.”
Anzu’s expression tightened. “Honda, get off him. Now.”
Grudgingly, he lifted himself off and released the smaller boy.
“Yeah!” Glasses leaped to his feet. His wings buzzed angrily, proving they weren’t ruined at all. “Take that! You guys are SO pussy-whipped.”
Jounouchi’s fists clenched. He growled. “Just one punch –”
“No,” Anzu said flatly. She walked over to Glasses and, to everyone’s surprise, picked him up by his shirtfront. “Let’s get one thing straight, Haga. I’m anti-bullying. This is a well-known fact. I will always stand up for victims of bullying. But if you ever, EVER call me a bitch again, you will be nothing more than a greasy stain on the floor. Do you understand?”
He gulped. “Yes.”
“Good.” She dropped him. “Now scram.”
He scrambled to his feet and scrammed as fast as he could.
Beanie Boy looked at the assembled faces. “You guys know none of that was my idea, right?” At their expressions, he nodded and back away. “Cool. Uh … later.” He also made his exit, not once bothering to ask who Yuugi was.
Anzu sighed. “Those two …” Apparently she couldn’t think how to end the sentence.
Jounouchi helped her out. “Are in serious need of a knuckle sandwich.” He raised his hands, palm outward, at her look. “But not from me. I’m talking a great big cosmic knuckle sandwich. From the sky. Like, karma. A karma sandwich. Yeah. Uh … hey, I think I hear Shizuka calling me.”
Yuugi picked himself up and limped over to them. “What was that all about?”
“That was Insector Haga and Dinosaur Ryuzaki.” Anzu sighed. “Most of the students here are nice, but those two make it their life’s purpose to be as annoying and obnoxious as possible.”
“Yeah, you better watch out for them, or Haga will slime your shoes and put cockroaches inside your pillowcase,” Jounouchi warned.
“Or spiders in your cereal and worms in your noodles. You might have noticed the insect theme.” His friend stood and offered a hand to Yuugi. “Hi. I’m Honda.”
“Yuugi Mutou.” Yuugi tried not to wince at the firmness of his grip. It wasn’t super-strong, as he imagined Jounouchi’s would be, but Honda seemed the kind of guy who judged you by your handshake and how well you met his clear-eyed stare.
Evidently Yuugi passed, because he nodded and folded his arms. “So you’re the new guy, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll get used to this place after a while. Mostly we’re all pretty nice, even harmless.”
“Except for the dork patrol.” Jounouchi went back to ineffectively trying to clean his short. He slipped his feet out of his sneakers, leaving them welded to the ground like a piece of modern art. “Yuck.”
Honda shrugged. “You can handle yourself against them, right Yuugi?”
“Uh … sure,” Yuugi said. Insector Haga seemed well-named, given what Yuugi had seen of his powers. He wondered what someone called ‘Dinosaur Ryuzaki’ could do.
“Yoo-hoo!” trilled a voice from high above them.
As one, they all looked up to see a figure literally flying through the air towards them. Yuugi gaped. He had heard stories, but he had never actually seen anyone flying unaided before. With a puff of air that scattered dirt and leaves at her feet, Miho landed amongst them.
“Miho has been sent to tell you that you need to all wash up and come to the auditorium,” she said brightly. “Mr. Pegasus is going to be starting the assembly soon, and he can’t do that without the guest of honour.” She beamed at Yuugi. “It’s time for you to be introduced to the student body, sweet little Yuugi-friend-of-Anzu.”
Yuugi blinked. He still wasn’t used to the way Miho talked – and especially the way she talked about him.
“I think he’s met most of them already,” Anzu muttered. “Seriously, Yuugi, there aren’t all that many people left to meet. I wasn’t kidding when I said this is a small school. We have about fifty kids on roll, if that.”
“We’re exclusive,” Miho said proudly.
“We’re endangered,” Jounouchi corrected darkly.
“We’re going to be late,” said Anzu. She gripped Yuugi by his shoulders from behind and steered him away from the group. “Tell Mr. Pegasus we won’t be late, Miho.”
“Miho will tell him!” She closed her eyes for a moment, her forehead bunching in concentration. Slowly she rose a few inches off the ground, faltered as if she was going to fall, and then rose steadily into the air. Like riding a bike, the momentum allowed her to fly more securely the longer she was airborne.
“Miho, wait!” Honda said in a slightly strangled voice.
She paused, hovering. “Yes, Honda?”
“You, uh … you look really nice today.”
Miho’s face erupted into a Cheshire Cat smile. “Honda is so kind! He always says such lovely things to Miho.”
Honda’s cheeks reddened. “Well, uh, you do. Look nice, that is. Better than nice, even. You look … good.”
Miho turned a little pirouette in mid-air. “Honda has brightened Miho’s day once again! Miho always feels so much better after she sees her friend Honda.”
Honda’s mouth twitched down for a moment. “Yeah. Uh, cool.”
“But sadly, Miho has to go now. She must deliver her friend Anzu’s very important message to Mr. Pegasus.” She rose higher, waving like she was about to take a three month trip abroad and this was their last goodbye. “Miho will see you all at the assembly!”
“Dude,” Jounouchi murmured as she flew off. “Panty shot. I love these school uniforms sometimes.”
Honda, who up to that moment had worn a dopey expression, rounded on his friend. “Don’t talk about her like that!”
“All right, all right.” Jounouchi shrugged. “Whatever, dude. Look, I gotta go see if I can quite stinking like the inside of a roach motel after all the bugs die. See you later.”
“I guess I better go shower too,” Honda admitted, also excusing himself. “It was nice meeting you, Yuugi.”
“Uh, yeah,” Yuugi said, “Sure.” He watched the two tall boys leave with mixed feelings. Today was turning out to be far more eventful than he had ever expected. He took a breath and turned to Anzu. “So what now?”
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Post by cypsiman2 on Jan 18, 2012 23:59:38 GMT -5
"Like Miho said, we need to get to the auditorium for Mr. Pegasus's assembly."
"Ah, right." Yuugi was disoriented by the displays of powers and the people behind them. "I guess I'll just follow your lead." They walked together for a short time down the hall before Yuugi spoke up again. "So, um, you can make invisible walls?"
"That?" Anzu's cheeks picked up a bit of pink. "That was just the first trick I learned to control my telekinesis, moving things with my mind. Really, it's more like I imagine a pair of hands, only back there they were really big hands, and no fingers or thumbs, and now I've gone and ruined the metaphor, but you get what I mean, right Yuugi?"
"Uh huh, yeah." Anzu's powers were straightforward and simple next to his own and however far their reach extended. "So, does that mean that Miss Kujaku is your personal tutor?"
"Nah, she sticks with telepathy and clairvoyance and that sort of thing, mind-to-mind stuff. The mind-over-matter stuff, that's Shadi's thing. He's a lot like Rishid, but even quieter and harder to read. And since you haven't met Rishid yet, that doesn't mean anything to you, so, bleh." Yuugi had to admit, he didn't remember Anzu being quite so talkative before she was sent here; apparently when she'd said she missed talking to him, she'd meant it.
"Rishid...Shadi...those are both Egyptian names, aren't they?"
"Yeah, Shadi and Rishid were members of a secret group over in Egypt years ago, and then they met Pegasus. Don't ask for details of course, only those three know and they're not telling a soul."
"That is a discretion you will have to learn, Anzu." Yuugi had lost track of the time as he and Anzu spoke, and now he saw they were right there at the auditorium. Standing before them were Mr. Pegasus and a pair of dark skinned men; one had an elaborate set of tattoos over the left side of his face, while the other had a heavy layer of kohl around his eyes.
"Mr. Shadi." Anzu quickly bowed to the Kohl-eyed man. "Mr. Rishid." Now the tattooed man.
"Anzu, you don't need to engage in such formalities, not after the service you've done for the school." Then Pegasus turned his attention to Yuugi. "All right, you get behind the curtain on stage, and when everyone gets here, we'll present you to all your future friends. Doesn't that sound like it'll be fun?"
"Yeah." Yuugi said this, even though only the tiniest part of his heart was in it. Still, he looked to Anzu, nodded, and did as Mr. Pegasus said.
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Post by Scribbler on Jan 20, 2012 19:54:08 GMT -5
[Just a quick note: could you please leave the reveal of Yuugi's powers for me to write? Pretty please? I have a fabbo idea based on something you wrote earlier, but it would fit best in the scene where he gets assigned a personal tutor, and given the length of this post I think I've monopolised this fic enough as it is.]
....
….
Isis opened her eyes, allowing them a moment to adjust to the relative brightness of her room. Anyone else would have found it impossible to see by the dim light, but she preferred it this way. It was soothing. She habitually kept her room cool and dark, with shades drawn and lighting low; an old habit she found difficult to break, even though she no longer had to keep the desert heat from making her rooms insufferably hot.
In the Egyptian safe-house she had shared with her brothers, the only noise and movement had been their own. Here she was constantly surrounded by other people. It could get a little overwhelming, forcing her to retreat to her room and meditate her way back to tranquillity. She wasn’t antisocial, only very sensitive.
She unfolded herself from her position in the middle of her bed and went to the French windows, drawing back the venetian blind and blinking in the daylight that streamed in. Her room overlooked the quad, which gave her an excellent position to observe the last students hurrying to the auditorium. It was somewhat ironic that she, a faculty member, would be late while they would not. She wondered whether Miss Hopkins would attempt to give her a tardy slip, then realised the little protégé would be sitting with the other students on this occasion.
Isis had sensed the arrival of the new boy long before he actually manifested. As with all her predictions, it had started as nothing more than a niggle in the back of her mind, like a half-remembered dream she couldn’t quite picture, and steadily grown into something more. When she had more details she had reported the news to Pegasus with absolutely certainty that they would be getting a new student, he would be male, and he would be local.
Of course, as he always did, Pegasus had asked what form the boy’s magic would take, but Isis had shaken her head.
“It is unclear to me.”
“Not even a little hint? What if I said please? With sugar on top? And a cherry?” Grinning wickedly, he had purred, “I’ll let you have my cherry if you tell me.”
“You know my powers do not work that way,” she had replied disapprovingly.
Pegasus had sighed melodramatically, as was his wont. “I know, but it never hurts to ask. So what DID you see?”
“Great pain. Fear. His magic will reveal itself when he is vulnerable. It will not be pleasant.”
As she spoke, memories of Katsuya Jounouchi had chased each other across her mind. She had predicted his powers manifesting this time last year, also with the advent of fear and pain. Later, she would discover that his drunken father had been routinely using him as a punching bag, but out of respect for the man he used to be, Jounouchi would never fight back. In frustration over a beating and his own feelings of helplessness, Jounouchi had hit the wall of their apartment and smashed it to smithereens.
The very moment his fist connected, on the other side of the city Isis had known with absolute certainty that events would now converge to lead him to the corner of Luck Street three days later, and that Pegasus should dispatch someone to meet him there with the promise of food, shelter and medical care – for while he possessed great strength, his magic did not run to invulnerability, and in three days his lacerated hand would be infected – or he would run and one of several unfavourable futures would happen instead. Visions of him dying of blood poisoning, being hit by a truck, fainting by the canal and drowning in its waters and several dozen other deaths had left her feeling sick to her stomach. Pegasus had planned to send Rishid, since he was so dependable. Only on the third day after her prediction did she go to Pegasus to say he should NOT send Rishid, but the outspoken Mai Kujaku instead.
Isis worked in nebulous vagaries and was totally beholden to what her powers chose to show her, which she knew irritated other people. With meditation she could focus her mind on certain individuals and places, trying to divine their future, but it was indiscriminate and couldn’t be counted on to show her anything of value. She often found it easier to say nothing at all, creating an air of mystery that was actually a by-product of fear over saying the wrong thing. Her past chased her with every word out of her mouth and she was painfully aware of that fact.
On television and in film, predicting the future was a linear act – a psychic saw a sequence of events with clear faces and voices at just the right volume for microphones to pick up. In reality precognition meant thousands of random chances passing through Isis’s thoughts every hour of every day. The future was a wealth of possibilities that changed with each decision people made. Unlike popular theory, not every decision created a parallel universe in which you chose differently, but they all changed the future of this universe. Isis witnessed these changes as they happened, one future morphing into another, and then another, and then another in her head. It made her circumspect to tell anyone her predictions until several possibilities converged into one very likely outcome. If she voiced a prediction too soon, she could inadvertently alter its outcome because whoever she had told made a different decision based on her words. When things changed and didn’t turn out like she had said, those she had told could react badly, as had happened in Egypt.
Without consciously thinking, she brushed her fingertips over her headband. She used it to cover her scars. Sometimes she still woke in the middle of the night, bathed with sweat and reeling from the memory of a man raising a bloody rock to hit her again. If Rishid and Malik hadn’t found her … but that led to other bad thoughts. Worse thoughts. The worst of them all, in fact.
Malik …
Her baby brother had been so enraged to see her fiancé hurting her after her prediction about who their father would name heir proved false. Her fiancé had blamed her for Malik taking what he saw was his rightful place. He had thought she had influenced her father’s decision, when in actual fact his arrogance had done that. So convinced he would inherit leadership by marrying her, he had disrespected the wrong people and her father had opted for his blood-son instead of his son-in-law. Rishid had never even been an option for their father, though her adoptive brother had acted more like family to Isis than anyone else ever had.
Anyone except Malik, that is.
Malik’s scream as his magic manifested before its time would stay with Isis forever, just like her scars. She would never forget the smell of burned flesh, or seeing her fiancé melt into a puddle of scorched gristle and fat before her eyes. She would never forget Malik’s wide and staring eyes, or the sound of him sucking down air. And she would never forget the fear as Rishid made the decision to spirit his siblings away into the night, away from retribution but also away from the only family they had ever known.
That was before Shadi found them, and Pegasus after that. That was before they came to Japan. That was before Rishid, too, manifested as one of the Gifted, cementing himself as an Ishtar and all the name entailed: outcast, freak, outsider.
The backs of Isis’s eyeballs burned. She closed her eyes. She was older now, but thinking of Malik still hurt. She wished she could go visit him, but her power was neither offensive nor defensive. Pegasus had set guards for Malik’s own good, and the good of those around him. The last time he got out, he had nearly killed someone and laughed while he did it. He had kept laughing hysterically as he was restrained and bundled back to the secure facility where he saw neither light nor the company of anyone who couldn’t hold their own against his immense power.
Isis had sworn never to let any other young person suffer like her brother. She would do all she could to make the transition from normal life to Gifted a smooth one for the Katsuya Jounouchis and Yuugi Mutous of this world.
Replacing the blinds, she exited her room and made the circuitous route to the auditorium.
….
Mokuba tried to turn invisible. Failing that, he tried to at least blend into the background enough that his adoptive father didn’t notice he was there. Since he wasn’t Gifted, just a normal human, this was harder said than done; but since Gozaburo Kaiba was focussed on the testing ground, he wasn’t paying any attention to one small boy peering down from the service door on the mezzanine above his glassed off observation room.
Gozaburo leaned close to the microphone on the tech-desk. Mokuba had no idea what all the dials and displays were for, but they were at rest now. No doubt they would light up and whizz around when things started to happen magically. “All right, time to show me your progress. Keith, you’re first.”
Far below, a selection of figures ranged behind protective Plexiglas across the end of the room. They were a motley collection, some short, some tall, some skinny, some broad-chested. The most heavily built looked up.
“Why do I gotta show you?” he demanded. “You ain’t the boss of me.”
Gozaburo wasn’t a man to mince words. “I AM the boss of you as long as you enjoy my protection and money. This isn’t a free ride. You have been set targets that you will meet or you will forfeit your place here at the Institute. Those who don’t progress to my satisfaction won’t enjoy it for much longer.” His voice lowered. Mokuba imagined him smiling, but was too focussed on one of the other figures to watch. Gozaburo’s smiles were never pleasant anyway. “Meet your targets or get out and fend for yourselves. I’m sure you’ll be fine on your own. People are just climbing all over themselves to help you Gifted, aren’t they?”
The man, who was wearing sunglasses despite being indoors, harrumphed and folded his arms. Mokuba recognised him as a known troublemaker and, at twenty-six, the oldest student on roll. Technically he had already learned how to use his powers, but had jumped at the chance to increase his control in exchange for a life entirely paid for by someone else. Unlike other Gifted schools, the Kaiba Institute for Gifted Research and Education had no age limit. Anyone could be counted as a ‘student’ if Gozaburo thought they were worth bending the rules for: which meant, if he thought they could be useful to him somehow.
The name of this place was a joke: Gozaburo was only interested in researching what the Gifted could do for him: and that usually translated to ‘make money’. People like Keith were apt to butt heads with anyone in authority, but Mokuba knew first-hand that Gozaburo would make him regret it if he didn’t toe the line.
One of the other figures tapped Keith on his shoulder. He had to reach up to do so. The smaller boy had shaved every bit of hair off his head, including his eyebrows, but his eyes were ringed with black. The effect was jarring, as if it had been weeks since he last slept. Maybe it had. More distressing was the range of painful looking piercings scattered across his face and strangely pointy ears. He also had a livid scar on his neck, as if someone had tried to cut his throat and the wound had healed. The wound may have accounted for the dark rings, and definitely accounted for why he said nothing, only signed with his hands.
“You know I don’t understand that sign language crap, Strings,” Keith said irritably.
The bald boy’s expression didn’t alter one iota, but his hands moved faster.
“He’s telling you to get on with it, idiot,” sniped a much smaller boy; the smaller one there, in fact, though you wouldn’t know it by the way he carried himself. His posture bespoke confidence and self-importance in spades, as if the qualities had been concentrated and made more potent by being crammed into such a small body.
Strings nodded.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Keith snapped. “Just because you’re a little daddy’s boy doesn’t mean you can get away with giving me orders.”
The smallest boy’s eyes narrowed, but his mouth thinned into a tight smile. “Just do your test, Keith, before we all die of old age.”
“I’m waiting,” Gozaburo said.
Grumbling, Keith headed for what looked like an elaborate archery bulls eye on the other side of the Plexiglas. He lined himself up with a mark on the floor. “Ten feet okay with you, boss?” he called.
“Twenty,” Gozaburo replied without comment on the insolence. Mokuba wondered how he would punish Keith. Gozaburo hated to be slighted, especially in public.
“What?” Keith exclaimed.
“Twenty,” Gozaburo said implacably.
“But that’s –”
“Twenty.”
Grumbling louder, Keith backed up to the twenty feet mark. He hunched forward for a moment, his entire body trembling as he tapped into his magic and summoned it up from deep inside. With a roar, he reared back, flinging his arms out like he was trying to fly. Each of his palms glowed bright orange. He slammed his arms together in front of him, combining the pooled energy into one concussive blast that shot forward and hit the target. It hit the third ring from the centre and burned a deep groove.
Keith straightened and adjusted his sunglasses. “Not bad, huh?”
“Bordering on pathetic,” Gozaburo replied. “Noa, show him how it’s done.”
“With pleasure.” The smallest boy bounded forward to shove Keith aside. “Out of the way, peasant.”
He stretched out his left arm, flattening his hand with palm upward. He closed his eyes for a moment in concentration. A pinprick of light appeared in the centre of his palm, growing steadily until it was the size of a tennis ball. Noa tossed the glowing sphere into the air, scattering deceptively beautiful sparkles like pixie dust.
“Your problem, Keith, is that you have no fine control. You think it’s all about how big your show it, when in actual fact it’s not about size.” He threw the glowing sphere at the target with apparently no effort, but it sailed through the air and sizzled a hole right through the centre. “It’s how you use it.”
Behind them, Strings pressed his hands and face close to the Plexiglas, drinking in the display. There was a hungry look in his eyes as he watched Noa stretch out his hand and summon a pinprick of energy to the tip of each finger, then flick them in rapid succession at the target.
“You need finesse, not just brute strength. Size doesn’t matter.”
On the target, a perfect star shape still smoked with Noa’s first bull’s-eye at its heart.
“Of course,” Noa added nonchalantly, “size does help too.” With that, he cupped both hands and whipped them forward like a volleyball player. A much bigger sphere reduced the entire target to a smoking wreck. “But it helps to be able to back up any promises you make.”
Keith scowled. His eyebrows completely disappeared behind his glasses. “Little punk.”
“Very good, Noa,” Gozaburo interrupted without inflection. “Precise and powerful. You could learn a lot from him, Keith. Now, since you two have destroyed that target, we will have to use another test the others.”
A bevy of subordinates busied themselves replacing it. Noa linked his hands behind his head and sauntered back to his place, Keith trailing behind like a scolded schoolchild; which he was, much to his chagrin.
Mokuba watched as the other students destroyed target after target. Knowing this was just the class for those whose magic could create destructive projectiles didn’t make him feel any better. Gozaburo had divided his students into classes, not according to the nature of their magic, but according to what they could do with it. Telepaths rubbed shoulders with kids who could call down lightning and make earthquakes, all united in a common theme.
All the students Gozaburo had accepted had one thing in common: they were dangerous. Amongst those not here, Espa Roba, a group of five brothers who shared one consciousness, could reduce a person to a gibbering wreck with telepathy. ‘Ghost’ Kotsuzuka could reanimate dead things into macabre puppets. So far he was only able to tackle things the size of road kill, but the implications, given enough of Gozaburo’s rigorous training, were awful. If Gozaburo’s primary objective was using his students to make money, someday Ghost’s powers could be used to devastating effect by armies who paid to keep their soldiers fighting even after they died.
Mokuba didn’t even like to think about Ryou Bakura. Finding him had been a real coup, since Gozaburo effectively got three students for the price of one, each with an individual power. Ryou’s primary personality was a nervous, self-effacing boy with the ability to turn invisible at will. Mokuba liked him and wished he could be in control all the time, but Gozaburo much preferred the secondary one: a vindictive, powerful personality who enjoyed causing pain. Most unpredictable and powerful was Ryou’s last personality, but since he had only appeared once and nearly killed Noa when he did, Gozaburo had employed a pair of adult telepaths called the Meikyu Brothers to work on keeping him permanently contained deep inside Ryou’s psyche.
Ryou Bakura scared Mokuba because he represented everything that was wrong with the Kaiba Institute. It didn’t exist to help Gifted kids learn to understand their magic, or help them learn how to someday reintegrate into society; it was a place where they learned to be what Gozaburo wanted them to be, even if it damaged them irrevocably in the process. They were just tools to him, which few of them seemed to realise and even fewer seemed inclined to do anything about it. They had all been mistreated by the outside world and Gozaburo had promised them that they would never again have to feel so helpless, as long as they did exactly as he said.
And then there was Seto.
As if on cue, the tallest member of the group stepped out from behind the Plexiglas. Seto’s face remained blank as he approached the brand new target. A hush fell over the room. Subordinates fled for the exits. Everyone waited with bated breath.
“What’s the matter, rich boy?” Keith sneered when nothing happened. “Got stage fright?”
Seto didn’t respond. He didn’t bother to raise his hands or make a show. He just narrowed his eyes a little at the target. Instantly, a wave of cold air washed outwards. It collected every scrap of moisture from the air and drew it down. Elaborate ice formations erupted around Seto’s feet and rushed in a straight line at the target, covering it and carrying on far beyond, up the wall and onto the ceiling. People leaped back as it fanned out and headed their way, but such was Seto’s fine control that the spreading ice left tiny circles around their feet instead of freezing them too. It arced towards the observation room and was about to cover the glass when Gozaburo spoke softly.
“That’s enough, Seto.”
Promptly the ice stopped. Seto turned his head towards Gozaburo’s voice. “Can I go now?”
“You’re not finished yet.”
Seto stared at him. He didn’t break eye-contact as around him, the delicate ice crystals grew and sharpened into razor sharp protrusions. Keith yelped as they jabbed at his lower legs so he couldn’t get away. Noa refused to react as what looked like a grasping hand made from ice curved towards him. All the students found themselves suddenly confronted with elaborate pincers poised to stab them if they moved.
“Now?” Seto’s voice was barely a murmur.
“Finish it,” Gozaburo ordered.
Seto stared at him for a moment longer. Whirling, he formed a fist, from which burst an icicle that grew and reshaped into an ice sword, which he flung at the target. Then he waved a dismissive hand. Every single deadly sculpture cracked and shattered into dust, allowing his classmates to move again. He didn’t even bother to check whether he had hit the target, which was left in ruins, as if it had been pushed several times through a wood-chipper.
“Good,” Gozaburo purred. Mokuba shivered. Why did he always talk to Seto like that? It was so creepy. “You may go, my boy.”
Without a word, Seto left.
“Hey, how come he gets to go early?” Keith demanded.
“Look around you, idiot.” Noa’s voice was tight; his confidence evaporated into disdain and barely controlled fury. “Do you think anyone is going to top that today? He destroyed the testing ground.”
“Oh.” Keith looked at the devastation. “Right.”
“Precise and powerful,” Gozaburo said, echoing his earlier compliment to Noa and making the boy’s scowl deepen. “None of you come close to matching him. None of you.”
Mokuba shivered. There was something so possessive in Gozaburo’s voice. Seto was powerful enough to destroy their adoptive father with a thought. Knowing that he was the bargaining chip by which Gozaburo maintained control of his brother made Mokuba feel like a worm.
Several years earlier, Gozaburo had promised he would not only give Mokuba a home, but legally adopt him to make sure he was never destitute again, as he had been when Seto’s powers manifested and he destroyed the orphanage where they had been living. Nowhere else would take them, and two little kids had little chance of survival when one of them was a Gifted boy whose face and story had been splashed all over the news. Twenty-five killed, frozen to death in poses of running away. It was the kind of story that lingered long after the ice itself had melted and the bodies been cleared away.
Gozaburo had snapped Seto up before the Kaiba Institute was even an idea. Originally Seto had been meant as a foil for Noa. Gozaburo had wanted to pit them against each other to sharpen Noa’s instincts and make him better qualified to inherit the Kaiba family name and company. Gozaburo had taken on Mokuba to ensure Seto stayed cooperative in that kind of situation, and used him once again when he realised just how powerful Seto was, and what an asset he could be to Kaiba Corp is handled correctly.
If only they had known then what they knew now, Mokuba thought. He hadn’t seen his brother use his magic in years. Seto was so much better at controlling it now, but he had become as cold as his powers and that scared Mokuba.
Having no need to stay now Seto had left, Mokuba edged his way back through the service door and fled back to his room to pretend he had been there all day.
….
Kisara jumped when the door slid open and Seto marched out. She followed him down the corridor, hurrying to keep up with his long-legged stride.
“Seto, wait!”
He didn’t.
“Seto!” she tried again, in case he hadn’t heard her. He looked preoccupied. She wondered what had happened in class today.
He still didn’t turn, but he did reply with a curt, “What do you want?”
“I wanted to see … um, to ask … how class went. Today. For you.” She fumbled for the right words. Why did being around him always make her so tongue-tied? “I, uh, checked out of the Infirmary early so I, uh –”
“So you came back to class?” Seto’s voice oozed disgust.
She had come to see him, but she was too nervous to say so. She was always too nervous to say so. Instead, she hemmed and hawed, wishing he was more approachable. If she hadn’t seen the way he was with his little brother, she would have thought him incapable of civility. Actually, if he hadn’t rescued her from the angry mob of football about to tear her to pieces when she first manifested, she would have thought that. Seeing him with Mokuba only compounded her belief that Seto Kaiba wasn’t nearly as cruel and cold as he liked people to think.
“Please wait,” she wheezed.
He stopped abruptly by the elevator doors. “You shouldn’t have been let out if you can’t even cope with this much exercise.”
“I can manage.” She straightened up. She had always been frail, which made her gift all the more incongruous. Or maybe it was fate paying her back for a lifetime of no friends and days spent looking out of hospital windows as doctors tried to figure out why she kept getting sick. The price she paid for her magic was a steep one, and she had been paying it long before her power actually manifested.
“If you can manage, you should have gone back to your own class with the other shapeshifters.”
“Uh…” She had no answer to that. Instead she asked a question of her own to distract him. “How did you do?”
“How do you think?” The doors pinged open and Seto stepped inside, holding out a hand to stop her following. “Go get some rest, Kisara. You’re no use to anyone if you collapse.”
“I won’t –”
“Just do it.” He jabbed the button to close the doors. “Don’t make me regret saving you by throwing your life away out of vanity. You don’t need to compete with anyone to prove how strong you are.”
“But I wasn’t –” The doors shut in her face. “– trying to prove anything.”
She stood there, one hand pressed to her chest to steady her breathing. Vanity? Was that really what he thought? Did he really think she kept going in this place because she was trying to prove something? She knew she was as powerful in her shifted state as she was weak in her human one; the facts on that were indisputable. She had nothing to prove and nobody to prove it to. All she really wanted was to stop feeling ill all the time, and that feeling fell away whenever she transformed. If it weren’t for Seto, she sometimes thought she would never turn back into a girl again.
Slowly and sadly, she turned and headed back towards for the Infirmary.
….
Yuugi loitered in the wings of the stage. Peering around the edge of the curtain, the auditorium buzzed with chatter, though not even half the seats were filled. Anzu had been right; no more than fifty students in pink and blue uniforms chatted to each other as they waited for the assembly to start.
Yuugi spotted Jounouchi and Honda in the front row. They had washed up and dashed down to get good seats. He wondered whether Jounouchi had used his super-strength to lift the competition out of the way, or whether Honda had used his preternatural agility to vault over everyone else and secure them a primo spot. Next to Jounouchi sat a petite girl with brown hair. The middle portion of her face and head had been wrapped in bandages, completely covering her eyes, but she smiled and touched Jounouchi’s hand in a very familiar way when he slung an arm around her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. Yuugi wondered whether this was the sister he had mentioned before. There was some resemblance between them, though it was difficult to tell with half her face concealed.
Miho had kept the seat next to her free and waved furiously as someone coming down the aisle. As he watched, Anzu sat down and shot him a small thumbs-up. On Miho’s other side, Honda attempted to sling his arm around her shoulders in a mirror image of Jounouchi, only to draw it sharply back when she turned and he lost his nerve.
The students all fell quiet when Mr. Pegasus stepped out onto the stage. Yuugi gulped.
Showtime.
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Post by cypsiman2 on Jan 20, 2012 21:26:13 GMT -5
[Sure, no problem! And I would complain about you monopolizing the fic if not for two factors; 1, I don't have it in me to write nearly as much as you in one go, and two, you're a really good writer. XD]
"Ladies and Gentlemen." Mr. Pegasus spoke with a drawl as he swept his arms out. He didn't use a microphone, nor did he need one, his projection more than sufficient to reach every member of the small but hopefully still growing student body. "Today is a day you've all known and will now experience from a new point of view, for today a new student has joined us. Undoubtedly some of you have already run into him as his escort showed him around the school and explained some of the basics of our institution, but now is the time for us all to become formally acquainted with one another. Yuugi-boy, would you please come out and introduce yourself to your friends?"
Yuugi gulped again, just for good measure, as he emerged from behind the curtain. Fifty people may not have been a lot, but for someone who was as much a wallflower as Yuugi, fifty was more than enough to keep him on edge. All of them subjected him to appraising looks, each one evaluating him on something different from one another. "Hi, everyone. I, I'm Yuugi Mutou. I like games and I hope we can all get along." He bowed nervously, unsure of just what was expected of him. Mr. Pegasus was giving no clue either, and in fact seemed to take mild amusement in the whole situation.
"Question!" A peppy, dark-skinned girl raised her hand, her eyes practically shining. She looked to have the same skin-tone as Shadi and Rishid, maybe a bit lighter. "Can I squeeze you?" Laughter erupted, and the girl in question seemed to be utterly unembarrassed while Yuugi was blushing like mad. Neither saw the quick glare that Anzu had shot at the girl.
"Perhaps another time, Mana-girl, but right now Yuugi-boy needs to be available to answer everyone's questions. Yes, Ryota-boy?"
Unlike Mana, his skin was plainly the product of a tan from years of working outside under the sun. "Yeah, Yuugi? The environment, big deal or waste of time?" He used a careful, even tone. Yuugi realized Ryota wanted an honest answer and so gave no hint of what answer he wanted.
"Well, I haven't thought about it much, but if I saw something real bad happening, I'd try to do something about it." Like write a stern letter, only not even that stern; even when it was just words with no faces involved confrontation just didn't come easy.
"That's okay, we can build on that." Ryota had a smirk on his face, and Yuugi wanted to wipe away the sweat from his brow. Then he remembered this was real life and not a cartoon.
"All right, who wants to go next...ah! You, Mahado-boy!" Yuugi was mildly surprised; not so much by the fact that he was the fourth Egyptian person he'd seen at the school so far, but he looked so much older and more mature than everyone else, he would have figured him for one of the tutors or teachers instead. Then again, just like he looked so much younger than he was, the converse would be true for others.
"How dangerous is your power?" Yuugi froze up as he looked Mahado in his eyes, and saw a knowing presence behind them; did he pry, or was his power that obvious to him that he couldn't help noticing?
"Mahado!" Mana, who was seated right next to him, stood up in her seat and glared angrily down at him. "This is not the time or the place of THAT sort of question!" Yuugi could only wonder where all the pep and good cheer went away. Yuugi glanced back at Mr. Pegasus, who seemed unpurturbed by it all. In fact, he wasn't even looking at Mahado or the rest of the audience at all, but at someone approaching the stage.
"Ah, Miss Isis, I'm glad that you're here. I would have delayed for you, but time waits for no one." There was a hint of edge to the man's voice that Yuugi half-thought he'd imagined, aided by the Egyptian woman's composed response.
"That would have been most unwarranted, it is my responsibility to fulfill my duties." Once she came into clear view, Yuugi couldn't help gaping at her; she was different from Anzu, the girl he'd known and admired for years, different from Mai who was aggressive in her beauty, Miss Isis was...regal, that was the only word Yuugi could come up with to describe her. The length of her neck, her hair draped over her shoulders, her bearing, she was like a queen of old in his mind's eye. "Mr. Mutou, I shall do everything in my power to make sure your time here is as peaceful as possible."
"Wonderful!" Mr. Pegasus said as he welcomed Miss Isis onto the stage, taking her hands in his and releasing them just as quickly. Then he turned back to Yuugi. "That concludes the spontaneous portion of the assembly." Now back to the audience. "Everyone, line up single file and proceed on stage to greet Yuugi-boy and shake his hand. And remember, no funny business!" He then took a nearby seat and pulled out an American gag comic, laughing uproariously every other page. "Oh Funny Bunny, will your escapades never cease?" Despite this, the student body did as instructed, and it looked like the first one who'd take his hand was Jounouchi.
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Post by Scribbler on Jan 23, 2012 11:49:16 GMT -5
Yuugi stared at the headmaster. Well, Anzu did say he was eccentric.
Despite this eccentricity, the student body did as instructed, and it looked like the first one who would take Yuugi’s hand was Jounouchi. He cleared a path to the stage, other students backing away from him like they were scared he might punt them through the window if they didn’t move. Yuugi expected the much taller boy to approach first, but instead he ushered up the girl he had been sitting next to. She felt her way up each step tentatively, nudging with her foot until she was sure she wouldn’t trip and fall on her face. With uncharacteristic gentleness, Jounouchi talked her through the ascent.
“Yo.” Jounouchi brought her forward, hands on her shoulder from behind. “Yuugi, this is my sister, Shizuka.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Yuugi.” Shizuka’s voice was soft and breathy as a summer breeze. She offered a hand, which hovered above Yuugi’s head. He reached up to shake it, bringing her arm down to his level. Her mouth formed an ‘o’ of surprise. “I’m sorry, you’re just … your hand is lower than I expected.”
“Because he’s a real shorty,” Jounouchi said. “Seriously, he’s like a little kid.”
“Katsuya!”
Yuugi blinked. Who was Katsuya? Jounouchi spotted his expression and made a face.
“Jounouchi is my family name,” he admitted. “I just hate being called Katsuya.”
Deciding not to comment on that, Yuugi instead said to Shizuka, “I’m pleased to meet you too, Shizuka. Are you Jounouchi’s younger sister?” It was difficult to tell with the bandages, but she was substantially shorter than him and had a delicate air to her, as if a strong puff of wind might blow her over and shatter all her bones.
“Yes,” she replied. “I’m fourteen. I only came into my gift recently. I …” She stopped. “I haven’t really learned how to handle it yet. You might have noticed.” She touched the bandages. “Most people are dying to know why I wear these, but too polite to ask.”
“Uh, hey, Shizuka, let’s let the others have a crack at the little guy.” Jounouchi hastily moved her along to the other side of the stage and the bookend staircase leading back down to the rows of chairs. He shot Yuugi a look over his shoulder; not threatening, exactly, but there was definitely a warning in it. Yuugi swallowed. Jounouchi seemed like an okay guy, but he was obviously very protective of his sister and didn’t want Yuugi to know the details of her as-yet uncontrolled magic.
Whatever it is, Yuugi thought, it can’t compare with mine.
As if on cue, he caught the eye of Mahaad, the serious-looking boy who had asked directly about his power. Mahaad was some way down the line, arms folded but gaze fastened on Yuugi. When he met Yuugi’s gaze his own gave nothing away. Yuugi suppressed a shiver and instead concentrated on the next person grabbing his hand.
“Hey, man.” Honda pumped his arm up and down enthusiastically. “Don’t mind Jounouchi. He can be an idiot, but he’s just looking out for Shizuka.”
“Yeah,” Yuugi replied. “I got that.”
The next few handshakes passed without incident. Faces started to blur after a while, as did voices and enthusiastic greetings. Everyone seemed so pleased to meet him; and they all seemed to mean it, too, which was all sorts of disconcerting. Yuugi was so used to passing under the radar that becoming the centre of attention left him feeling exhausted. So when Mana’s smiling face appeared scant millimetres from his own he tried to jump back but stumbled over his own feet.
“Whoa there!” Instantly she was behind him, her grin fixed in place. “You have to be more careful.”
“What … how did you …?” Yuugi looked between her and the slightly smoking spot on the stage in front of him. “Huh?”
“Mana!” Suddenly Mahaad was there too, and his expression wasn’t empty anymore. He frowned at Mana with irritation. “What did I tell you just this morning about being careful where you teleport? You keep causing property damage!”
She stuck out her tongue. “You can hardly notice it.”
“You burned the floorboards!”
“Shush!” She held a finger to her lips. “If you don’t raise your voice, maybe nobody will notice.”
Since the line of students watching from the audience and the one snaking down the stage were all looking in their direction, there was no chance of that. Mahaad pinched a spot between his eyes, a very adult gesture; but now he was up close Yuugi could see that he wasn’t actually very old at all. Mahaad was probably in his late teens, his body lean and wiry but not yet grown into a man’s physique. Yuugi had mistaken his age because of the way he carried himself; Mahaad seemed far older than his years, as if he had seen more than anyone in the room far younger than he should have. When he shook Yuugi’s hand, Yuugi noticed the fine scars crisscrossing his knuckles and several strange, angry welts on his palms, as if he had once grabbed something incredibly hot and held on too long. Mahaad noticed him looking, but said nothing.
“I hope you will be happy here and find what you need.” It was the first time someone had not said they were happy to meet him. Apparently Mahaad still reserved judgment about whether or not Yuugi’s arrival was a good or bad thing. On that matter, he was probably the most sensible of the bunch.
“Thank you.”
“Mahaad, you are a complete party-pooper.” Mana planted herself in front of Yuugi and hugged him tight, forgoing a handshake entirely. “As you probably figured out from everyone calling me by it, my name’s Mana, and I teleport. It’s really cool. Want to see?”
“Mana, no!” Mahaad reached out to grip her upper arm. “Come, we shall return to our seats.”
“Party pooper!” she wailed.
By the time the parade of students was finished, Yuugi’s shoulder ached, his hand felt somewhat crushed and his mind was a whirl of names. The student body resettled themselves with much noise, as no teacher came forward to mark the end of the activity. Yuugi watched as Miss Kujaku, seated behind Mr. Pegasus, leaned forward to poke him in the ribs.
“Ooh!” he shrieked. “That tickles!”
The students all laughed.
Miss Kujaku indicated Yuugi standing by himself in the middle of the stage. Mr. Pegasus folded what he was reading, tucked it under one arm and ambled up the steps to stand beside him. At once, the room quieted. Regardless of his unconventionality, Mr. Pegasus commanded enough respect in this room that he didn’t have to shout to get everyone’s attention.
“All right then, boys and girls. If my stomach is anything to go by, I do believe it’s time for lunch. Line up in single file and Miss Kujaku and Miss Wong will lead you all to the cafeteria.” He turned to Yuugi and, still smiling, said in a softer voice, “Yuugi, after lunch I’ll need you to come to my office so we can get you sorted with a personal tutor. I assume Miss Mazaki already explained about tutors?”
Yuugi nodded.
“Marvellous. Make sure you eat good, balanced meal, and don’t overdo it on the sweets.” With that, Mr. Pegasus left via a side-door in the wings.
Yuugi looked around, wondering if he should follow the other students. They were peeling away in two packs, apparently without needing to be told which teacher to follow. In his own clothes instead of a uniform, Yuugi stood out like a sore thumb. Seeing his dilemma, Miss Kujaku took pity and sauntered over.
“C’mon down and get something to eat, Yuugi. You can walk with my bunch.” She thumbed over her shoulder to where Anzu was waiting. “Miss Wong might be a little too traumatic for you after all that.”
“Uh, thanks.” Yuugi climbed gratefully down and scurried over to Anzu. “That was awful. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.”
“Why? Everybody loved you. I knew they would.”
He flushed a little. “I hate being the centre of attention.”
She smiled kindly at him. They made small-talk, Yuugi occasionally answering questions the students in front and behind them chipped in. The cafeteria was identifiable by the large stained-glass doors emblazoned with images of sushi, chicken drumsticks, a loaf of bread and what appeared to be a milkshake in a fast food style cup. Parts of this school seemed just as odd as its headmaster, Yuugi reflected, although since it was a school for the Gifted, he supposed it could have been even odder.
Anzu stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh my gosh, I forgot to warn you.”
“Warn me about what?” Yuugi asked.
A dark shadow fell over them. Yuugi had a flash of a white apron and chef’s hat as Anzu replied.
“Bobasa, the school cook.”
….
“Why are you so grumpy, Mahaad?” Mana danced around him, covering twice the distance he did as they made their way to the cafeteria.
Miss Wong took them out the opposite door to Miss Kujaku, their legendary rivalry dictating that she not take the same route. The beautiful Chinese woman chivvied them to along, apparently so they could fill their empty bellies faster, but they all knew it was so their group got there first. The two women were constantly scoring tiny victories over each other, sometimes to the chagrin of those who got caught up in their competitions.
“Mahaad!” Mana insisted. “Why. Are. You. So. Grumpy?” She punctuated each word with a burst of magic, teleporting herself around him and leaving burnt spots on the cobbles.
“I thought I told you to stop doing that.”
“You did.”
“Then why haven’t you stopped?”
“Because I don’t mind. Mr. Pegasus doesn’t care about a few sooty places. If it rains, it’ll soon wash away.”
“Yes, and until then it’s an eyesore. Honestly, Mana, someday you’re going to teleport in the wrong place and start a fire.”
She shrugged. “I’m careful.”
He snorted. Few people could make him demonstrative the way Mana did. Usually he was able to maintain a cool façade, which unnerved people but allowed him to take their measure without them realising what he was thinking. He had grown up knowing that if you showed weakness, you died. His bond with Mana, however, was ingrained enough that she could get around his defences; their shared history forming a bond stronger than if they really were family. He treated her like a little sister he had to watch out for and she, in return, treated him like an older brother whose sole purpose in life seemed to be spoiling her fun.
Many people mistook them for siblings until they learned their surnames were different, and even then their closeness fooled people. It was understandable, since their fellow students, Katsuya Jounouchi and Shizuka Kawaii, had different names because their parents had divorced and their mother legally changed Shizuka’s back to her maiden name. Until fairly recently they hadn’t seen each other in years and hadn’t lived together in even longer. Jounouchi was more overtly defensive of Shizuka than Mahaad was of Mana, but both boys radiated the same protectiveness.
Mahaad Hakim and Mana Nejem had met in a war-torn middle-eastern wilderness when they were children and grown up on the streets, fighting for survival with nobody to count on but each other. Any friends they met fell to disease, poverty and the ever-present conflict. Mahaad had nursed ten-year-old Mana when she also became ill from drinking unclean water. He had carried her on his back to the nearest hospital, only to be turned away because she was a girl and a street urchin. There were barely any resources for the brave but harried doctors and nurses to utilise as it was, without wasting them on a child nobody would miss or mourn.
Except that Mahaad would have missed her. He would have mourned her until his heart broke and killed him too. For so long, she was the only constant in his life, and the only joy. He had trekked across open country to a missionary settlement, where she had received the treatment she needed. He still had scars on his feet from where he had walked them raw, and more on his knuckles from many fights to protect what little shelter they had carved out during the worst of the conflict.
“Mahaaaaad!” Mana appeared above him in a puff of glittering smoke. She fell with arms and legs outstretched, obviously intending to tackle him out of his mood. It was typical Mana thinking.
Since it was also a tactic she had used before, he reacted without thinking. His whole body glowed faintly green and a circle of shifting emerald light spread out from his feet. Mana bounced off the solid dome of light and landed on her backside.
“No fair!” she cried.
He stood still, though after training with Rishid he could easily move and take his protective circle with him. Once upon a time, he could only produce one by drawing an actual circle around himself. Something about the act of sealing the unbroken line made the magic stronger. After reading up on wards and protective magic, Mahaad thought this was because the circle provided a focus. According to lots of theorists and stories from the time before the Gifted, when magic was still the stuff of myth and legend, many magicians and spellcasters used objects to focus raw magic and stop it bleeding off from what they wanted it to do. Nowadays Mahaad’s control allowed him to create an instant protective circle around himself, though he still had to draw a circle if he wanted to protect himself and someone else, or if he wanted to protect something he wasn’t standing directly next to. For obviously reasons, any wards he cast that way were static, so his next goal was to find a way to replicate the progress he had made on himself onto bigger targets. Since Mana’s Gift allowed her to move around in three dimensions at intervals of only a few seconds, and she was the thing he was most likely to want to protect, he was determined to do all he could to master this skill.
“It’s entirely fair,” he said to her now. “No are you going to stop acting so foolish?”
“My butt hurts.” She stood up and rubbed it theatrically. “I think you broke my butt-bone!”
He sighed. That answered that question. “Come along, Mana. Aren’t you hungry?”
Her eyes lit up. “Starving!” She was fifteen now, but her belly remembered what it was to be so hungry you cried with pain. Neither she nor he ever passed up a meal.
When they arrived at the cafeteria, however, it was to find Miss Kujaku’s group had already arrived.
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Post by cypsiman2 on Jan 23, 2012 13:07:29 GMT -5
[Oh yeah, there's a lot of people to juggle here, even if fifty is small for a school. Good choice on the surnames, and I think I have a suspicion on what powers you'd give over to Rishid and Shadi, but I shall not presume to guess. And again, you are an amazing writer, the wait is always worth it with you.]
"Greetings, young one, and what would you like to eat?" Yuugi knew how rude it was, but he couldn't help staring at the cook Anzu had called Bobasa, yet another Egyptian by the looks of him. "Oh, don't worry, I always get that look, slides right off me, ho ho ho!" Well, he seemed jovial enough, but even so, he was a huge, almost balloon shaped man with a huge round belly. Yuugi honestly had no idea what to say or think without making some sort of horrible mistake.
"Yuugi would like a hamburger, Mr. Bobasa."
"Certainly, Miss Anzu." He then put his hand on his stomach and pulled, and then something impossible happened; it was like he was opening a drawer or a cabinet or something, but this was his own body! And yet, there was nothing inside, nothing that Yuugi could see at any rate, but when Bobasa reached in, he produced a plate with a fresh grilled burger on it. "I certainly hope you enjoy your meal young man." Yuugi stared down at his food as he moved on, unsure about this whole thing.
"Again, sorry to warn you." Anzu was alongside him, carrying a chicken salad in her hands. "As you might imagine, he's been through more than most, even in this crowd; I'm not sure even Mr. Pegasus knows the whole story." They sat down together, there was still more than enough space for people to sat where they want and who they wanted with. "Go ahead, eat, it really is quite good." Anzu took her fork and speared up chunk of lettuce and chicken and brought it into her mouth. "Hmm, that hits the spot!" She said after a period chewing that went on longer than necessary.
Yuugi then took a tentative bite of his burger, and started digging in almost ferociously, stopping only when Anzu started laughing. "It, it really is good, Anzu."
"Yeah, no idea how it works, but Bobasa's power always makes the best food no matter what kind you ask for." So good in fact that they spent the rest of their lunch together just eating and enjoying the moment.
"All right Yuugi." Miss Kujaku said, suddenly standing right behind the boy. "Now's the time for your meeting with Mr. Pegasus to figure out your tutor."
"Well Yuugi, see you later." She smiled a bit sadly as Yuugi walked away, and Yuugi returned the expression.
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Post by Scribbler on Jan 30, 2012 18:20:18 GMT -5
Mahaad watched the new boy depart without altering his expression; at least until Mana ruffled his hair from behind. He flashed her a stern look, which she paid about as much attention to as she ever did. “You haven’t smiled once all lunch.” She followed the line of his gaze. “What is it about the new boy that bothers you so much?” “I don’t know,” Mahaad admitted. “I just have a feeling.” “It might just be gas. You did ask for lentils in your Ful Nabed.” She indicated the steaming bowl of bean and vegetable soup Bobasa had produced for each of them. Mana had requested western style bread to mop up hers. Her blazer had crumbs down the front where she had broken the soft rolls into pieces to dip them. Mahaad reached absently to brush them off, but she smacked his hands away. “I’m not a little kid, Mahaad. You don’t need to baby me.” He sighed, but didn’t bother arguing with her. His stomach was full, but still cramping with unease over Yuugi Mutou. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it bothered Mahaad that Yuugi hadn’t named his power, or even given any hint of the form his magic took. Mana’s outburst and Miss Ishtar’s arrival in the assembly had precluded him having to explain how dangerous he was. “Mr. Pegasus says we can have the afternoon off too,” Mana said. “I think I’ll go swimming.” The school had an Olympic size pool and it was a nice enough day to merit a swim, but Mahaad suspected that wasn’t why Mana had suggested it. If they had been given free time, Ryota Kajiki would no doubt spend it at the pool. Born and raised a fisherman, Ryota had come into his magic during a freak storm that sank his father’s tiny boat and tossed both father and son into the waves. Ryota’s father had drowned and Ryota would have too if his power over water had not emerged in response to his situation. Barely conscious, he had conjured a wave that carried him back to shore and threw him over the beach and onto the main street of his tiny village. He had suffered broken bones, but miraculously survived. Those who had seen the magical wave, however, knew he was Gifted. While they could have reacted badly, as was the case in so many stories of Gifted children, the villagers had known Ryota all his life and instead banded around him. He was absorbed into the home of a neighbour and nursed back to health. Since he and his father had been so close, it was a good thing he had many shoulders to cry on – not that super-macho Ryota would ever cry over anything. At all. Ever. He was famous for the shark-tooth necklace he wore over his school uniform, not because it was against school regulation, but because he had killed the shark himself when it leaped out of the ocean, over his father’s boat and knocked Ryota into the water on its way past. Ryota claimed to have punched it on its nose and wrestled the dazed thing into submission before his father pulled them both back on board. That was just one of hundreds of stories he liked to tell to whoever would listen. Usually, that was Mana. She would listen, starry-eyed, to every single one of his tales, drinking in his heroism like it was water and she had been trekking the desert all day with an empty canteen. Ryota had a willing audience in her, though he seemed genuinely unaware of her crush on him. Mahaad wondered how he was supposed to advise her on the whole situation, having never had a crush on anyone himself. Should he discourage her feelings? Encourage them? Tell Ryota so he knew the extent of the situation? Say nothing at all since Ryota had told them he was heading back to his village after he graduated from the Academy? Mahaad sighed. Life in Japan was supposed to be less complicated, but it was just as complicated as before Pegasus Academy; the complications were just of a different kind. He supposed it was better that Mana’s primary concerns now were schoolwork, magic training and romance, rather than basic survival. His eyes dragged back to where he had last seen Yuugi Mutou, wondering whether he would be yet another complication in their lives. …. Yuugi wasn’t sure what he expected of Mr. Pegasus’s office. Something like Dumbledore’s maybe; walls lined with books, arch windows and a stone fireplace. The idea of a school for magical students had been ridiculed by the media for its Harry Potter associations, and the comments had never stopped even as the idea took root and became more accepted. Yuugi didn’t know enough about Mr. Pegasus to guess at his décor before seeing it. It turned out to be lots and lots of dark wood furniture in an airy room with huge windows at one end. Mr. Pegasus’s office was on the ground floor of the school, backing onto a sports field with a beautiful view of Domino City. The school sat on a ridge outside the city limits, close enough to see the buildings but far enough away that most people felt safe about it being there. The walls of the office were cream, the accents red velvet and gold tassels, and the desk in the corner was polished to such a shine that the light bouncing off it dazzled Yuugi. “Come in, come in,” Mr. Pegasus trilled. He was reclining on a cream couch, one leg crossed over the other, both hands around the top knee. He looked like he was posing for one of those plush magazines where celebrities tried to convince you they always emptied the dishwasher in a ball-gown and full make-up. “Thank you, Miss Kujaku, for delivering him safe and sound.” “Sure,” Miss Kujaku said, folding her arms and leaning her hip against the doorframe. She was evidently sticking around for this. Standing beside the couch were the two men Anzu had called Mr. Ishtar and Shadi. They wore blank expressions that bordered on severe and weren’t at all encouraging. By contrast, Mr. Pegasus beamed and gestured for Yuugi to sit in the armchair. “Now then,” he said, leaning forward. “Miss Mazaki explained to you how this works, yes?” “A little,” Yuugi replied. “She said personal tutors give specialised help to students according to their magic.” “Indeed they do. We have day-staff who come in to teach regular subjects not covered by live-in faculty members like Miss Kujaku. They aren’t here today, since I’d decided to give the students the day off in honour of your arrival. We’ll draw up a timetable for you to follow tomorrow, once we know who will be your personal tutor. There are designated tutor sessions, but they fall in different places throughout the day depending on who you’ve been assigned to. The rest of the time you will study a comprehensive education, just the same as any other high school student, with the exception of General Magic, which gives a grounding in the principles behind what it is to be Gifted. There you’ll learn to understand your Gift, plus magic in general. Personal tutor sessions are for learning self-control and self-discipline. You’ll take exams in regular subjects, but not in General Magic, and your tutor may choose to test you whenever they see fit according to your progress.” Yuugi swallowed but nodded. So far it all made sense. “Don’t worry, kiddo,” said Miss Kujaku. “You look like you’re about to cough up a hairball.” “I’m fine,” he squeaked. “Glad to hear it,” said Mr. Pegasus. “Now, regarding the tutors themselves, we have five live-in Gifted faculty who function as personal tutors, each of whom specialises in a different type of Gift. Miss Kujaku looks after students for whom mental powers are prominent. Mr. Ishtar varies from her in that he trains students whose mental powers can affect the physical world directly, such as your friend Anzu’s telekinesis. Miss Wong is our physical transformation tutor, and Shadi here deals with anyone requiring a magical focus. I can see you have a question, Yuugi-boy. Spit it out. Come on now, don’t be shy.” “What’s a magical focus?” Yuugi asked. “Um, sir?” Mr. Pegasus gestured behind him. “Shadi, the floor is yours.” The serious looking man didn’t come forward. He spoke quietly and slowly, an accent clinging to his words. “A magical focus is an object used to channel magical energy into a specific form, or to help prevent spill-over when one of the Gifted is not able to restrain themselves without help. These objects can take any shape, but are made from one of five special materials conducive to magical energy: orichalcos, moonsilver, skyiron, starcrystal or soulstone. They have different names in different parts of the world and throughout history, but these are the names we use here. These materials are all easily enchanted and can be attuned to one user’s particular magical resonance.” “Which is like a magical fingerprint,” Miss Kujaku explained at Yuugi’s slightly dazed expression. “Our magic is kept here.” She gestured to the centre of her not-inconsiderate chest. “It’s as distinctive as we are. Nobody has the same magical resonance as anybody else in the world.” “For example,” Shadi went on like she hadn’t even spoken, “Mr. Pegasus uses a magical focus made from soulstone.” “You do?” Yuugi stared at the headmaster, wondering what his Gift could be if he needed a focus to help control it. In answer, Mr. Pegasus drew back the curtain of hair covering one side of his face. In place of his left eye was a nugget of what looked like sandstone, but couldn’t possibly be. “I don’t tend to show it off willy-nilly,” he admitted. “It’s an unusual place to carry a focus and can scare the fainthearted when they first see it. We tend to wear our focuses as jewelry, not body parts. But then, I’ve always been a trend-setter rather than a follower.” “My job is to find out what material would best suit a student who requires a magical focus. Then I locate and bring it back to the Academy. These materials are not easily come by, but I have my own way of finding things.” He wrapped one hand around what looked like a gigantic metal key on a string around his neck. The metal gleamed more than the table. “This is made from skyiron and allows me to traverse the astral plain without becoming separated from the living world.” “Thank you, Shadi,” said Mr. Pegasus. “And finally, Yuugi-boy, the fifth tutor is none other than me. I take care of any student whose gifts don’t fit snugly into one of the other tutors’ specialisms.” Yuugi was surprised. “I thought Miss Ishtar would be the fifth tutor.” Rishid Ishtar’s face flinched momentarily. Mr. Pegasus shook his head. “Miss Ishtar isn’t a personal tutor. We felt the strain would be too much for her.” Without explaining further, he rubbed his hands together and said briskly, “Now, on to the main event: getting you and your Gift your very own personal tutor.” Yuugi gulped. This was the part he hadn’t been looking forward to. “I … can’t really explain my Gift. It’s not something I can use all the time, like Anzu’s telekinesis. It only shows up sometimes and I can’t really choose when that is.” “Well, tell us about its first appearance and we’ll work from there.” Mr. Pegasus leaned forward expectantly. Yuugi bunched his hands on the knees of his trousers, elbows locked in an anxious posture. “I don’t remember much of it. I found out afterwards that I … hurt someone.” After a moment, Miss Kujaku asked, “Who?” “A school bully.” “Your bully?” “Yes. He picked on me a lot. He picked on other kids too, but … I guess I seemed like an easy target, being so small and, um, pathetic.” Embarrassment crowded in with the anxiety. It was never fun to admit you were a casualty waiting to happen. “His name was Ushio. He used to squeeze money from a lot of kids at school, not just me. Nobody could stand up against him. He was huge. I mean, he was taller than Mr. Ishtar and, um, really muscly. I think he lifted weights or something. He used to say he got ripped from ripping heads off.” “He sounds like a pleasant character,” Mr. Pegasus said dryly. “He sounds like a dick,” Miss Kujaku replied, then raised her hands. “Sorry, sorry, I mean he sounds like a not-very-nice person.” “So what happened when your Gift manifested?” asked Mr. Pegasus. “Remember that you are among friends, now,” Rishid broke in. it was the first time he had spoken since Yuugi entered the room. His deep baritone thrummed through the soles of Yuugi’s feet. “You have nothing to fear by telling the truth of what happened.” “But that’s the thing,” Yuugi tried to explain. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember. I don’t even know what my power is, except that it … hurts people. I can only tell you what I was told when I came round.” “Came round? Your magic knocked you unconscious?” Shadi asked. Yuugi shook his head. “Apparently I was still awake and doing stuff – talking and … well …” He paused awkwardly. “I don’t have any memory of what I did, but when I ‘woke up’ I was standing over Ushio and he was … um … he was …” He looked away. This was what he couldn’t tell Anzu. This was what had made his grandfather let him go to the Academy when all he really wanted was for Yuugi to stay home with him where it was safe. Yuugi desperately needed help to make sure nothing like that ever happened again. “Yuugi,” said Miss Kujaku. “Are you familiar with the term ‘mental broadcasting’?” Her non-sequitur flummoxed him. “Uh, no.” “Because you’re doing it right now. Your thoughts are so loud that even though I’m shielding myself, I can hear every single one. You need to learn to think quietly or you’ll have no secrets left in a school with telepaths.” Panic bit into him. She could hear his thoughts? “How do I … do that?” “Basic mental shielding is covered in General Magic.” She winked at him. The flutter of her eyelashes blew some of the tension away. “Don’t sweat it, pipsqueak. If Jounouchi can pick it up, anybody can. My point is, the images you have in your head right now? I can show them around if you’d rather not try to describe them.” A cold shiver went down Yuugi’s spine. The idea of someone else in his head was unnerving, but Miss Kujaku relating things was better than trying to justify to everyone here why he should have been locked up the moment he and Ushio were discovered behind the school. “It’s perfectly safe,” Miss Kujaku assured him. “You think only about that incident, which puts it at the top of your mind. I can skim off surfaces thoughts without going any deeper.” He swallowed and nodded, uncertain but wanting to show willing. “A-All right. But you won’t take anything else, will you?” She made a salute sign with her fingers. “Scout’s honour. Now just relax; this won’t hurt a bit.” The back of Yuugi’s neck itched. He wasn’t sure if it was related. He concentrated, trying to keep his thoughts restricted to the one event. Gradually things resolved themselves in his mind: things he had tried not to think about at all since they happened. First came Ushio’s terror-stricken face and wide, unseeing eyes, staring up from where he was sprawled on the floor. Yuugi would never forget that expression. Ushio was the terror of the school, but he had obviously been terrified. Yuugi’s hands had been tingling. When he looked at them wisps of black mist had been curling off his fingers. He had tried to wipe them off on his pants, but it seemed the wisps weren’t actually there at all, just a trick of the light only he could see. The time between Ushio punching him and Ushio lying at his feet was missing from his memory. He had tried to remember what had happened. He had tried to remember for the police, for his grandpa, for the doctors at the hospital and for his own sanity, but the events were just gone. “Interesting,” said Mr. Pegasus. Yuugi’s eyes snapped open. He gasped. All around him, Domino High was bathed orange and red in the setting sun. As if that wasn’t strange enough, flickery images of himself and Ushio walked past – or, in his case, were dragged past by the back of his collar. They looked like what you’d see on a television if hit had a really bad reception and their voices were crackly. “Please, Ushio, don’t!” “Can it, fart-breath. You missed your payment. I protected you from all them other bullies this week, but you reneged on your end of the deal.” “I told you, Grandpa sent me with a bento box for lunch every day this week, not money –” “There’s other ways to get money. Point is, you missed your payment, so now you gotta have them beatings I saved you from. You could’ve had them spread over the week if this is the way you wanted to play it, but no, you led me on, so now you get them all at once.” “No! Please!” A heaviness started in Yuugi’s chest. He swallowed. When a hand landed on his shoulder he nearly jumped out of his skin. Miss Kujaku didn’t look down at him. The centre of her forehead glowed gold. “I’m projecting the memory for everyone to see at once,” she said. “It’s less draining and less invasive than dipping into everybody’s head to implant it individually. This way their minds can absorb it themselves instead of me forcing them to do it. Plus, it gives you a step of removal from what happened instead of having to relive it.” “So this is Ushio,” Mr. Pegasus said. He had risen from his seat and was walking around Ushio, who didn’t react to being examined. Of course he wouldn’t, Yuugi thought; he was only a memory being played out like a home movie on a garage film-projector. “He’s certainly a big brute, isn’t he?” Memory-Ushio tossed Memory-Yuugi against the wall. It was odd to see himself like this. Yuugi wasn’t sure whether it really was better than reliving the memory form his own point of view. He watched as Ushio kicked and punch his tiny body with chillingly practised pacing. Memory-Yuugi was left a bloody mess, his nose streaming red and his hair matted from a cut in his scalp. He tried to drag himself away but Ushio put a foot on his back to pin him in place. “Please,” Memory-Yuugi begged. “No more … I won’t tell … I promise I won’t tell … just let me go …” Miss Kujaku’s hand squeezed Yuugi’s shoulder, centring him in the here and now. “What’s that?” Memory-Ushio said cruelly. “More? Okay.” He flipped Memory-Yuugi over and knelt straddling his chest, one hand gripping his shirtfront, the other raised in a fist. “By the way, who did this to you?” Yuugi’s breath popped in a bubble on his lips. He couldn’t reply with Ushio’s weight crushing his ribcage. “Some gang of street thugs, that’s who. If you say it was me, you’ll get twice as bad next time. And I’ll find you, maggot. I know where you live. I’ll wait for you outside your front door but you won’t even see me coming. Got that?” “Y-Yes.” “Good.” Memory-Yuugi stared at the fist shooting towards him. It was just as petrifying to watch from outside as it had been to see it first-hand. Ushio’s face contorted with the enjoyment of a true sadist – right before he flew backwards into the wall. He spread-eagled against the brickwork, while all around him shadows came to life and writhed like living things. They twisted around his wrists and ankles, holding him off the ground. “What the –?” Memory-Yuugi got to his feet. There was something odd about the way he moved. He straightened, but there was a sinuous quality to it; nothing like someone who had been badly beaten. He didn’t walk towards Ushio, he stalked. “Black hearts and black minds deserve black fates,” he whispered in a voice far deeper than Yuugi’s own. It echoed like he was standing in a cave, or at the top of a mineshaft. As the group of tutors and Yuugi watched in the present, the memory Yuugi had thought replayed in front of them with sickening clarity. Memory-Yuugi reached into Ushio’s chest, hand passing right through the front of his uniform like it wasn’t there. Memory-Ushio’s eyes bulged. He screamed. The shadows quivered and flowed into his mouth, nose and ears. He struggled, but they thrashed like eels sticking out of his face. The front of his pants darkened as he wet himself in fear. All the while, still with his back to his audience, Memory-Yuugi rummaged around inside Ushio’s chest. He stuck his arm in right up to the elbow, and then withdrew it, holding a silvery thing no bigger than a thimble. “Disappointing,” Memory-Yuugi drawled. “But not surprising. You have very little magic inside you, Ushio. And now.” He lifted the silvery thing and pressed it flat to his own chest, throwing back his head as if in ecstasy. “Not even that much.” The cuts on his hands from where he Ushio had stamped on them sealed up, contusions and scrapes fading in an instant. The shadows released Ushio. He fell to his knees. Like the tallest tree in the forest when the logging company comes, Domino High’s worst bully toppled sideways, his eyes unseeing but wide with terror. The landscape juddered when he hit the floor, but Memory-Yuugi didn’t react for a long moment. When he did, it was to clutch at his head in sudden agony. He raised his face and backed away, staring first at Ushio, then at his hands and the last of the shadows being reabsorbed into his body. “Wh-what?” he stammered. “Oh no. Help! Somebody help! HELP!” He ran off like demons were trying to catch him and drag him to hell for another beating, but stopped mid-stride, as if someone had hit the giant pause button on the remote of the universe. The scene faded, leaving Yuugi and Miss Kujaku facing Mr. Pegasus, Shadi and Rishid Ishtar. Mr. Pegasus was still on his feet. His visible eye was stretched wide. Shadi, too, looked shocked. It was the first real expression Yuugi had seen from him. To his relief, Miss Kujaku left her hand on his shoulder rather than yanking it away in disgust. “Oh my,” said Mr. Pegasus. “Oh MY.” “I didn’t know,” Yuugi whispered. “I didn’t remember. Oh god, I didn’t … I couldn’t … I did that to Ushio? I mean … what did I do?” Mr. Pegasus cleared his throat, but it was Shadi who answered. “You extracted and consumed his magical core.” “I what?” Yuugi recalled Anzu saying something like that when she was trying to explain how Gifts worked, but his head was so jumbled he couldn’t make head nor tail of it. “Ushio wasn’t – isn’t – Gifted.” He was still alive, after all. Hooked up to dozens of machines at Domino General Hospital and in a coma from which he may never awaken, but he was alive. That was a good thing, right? “Everyone has a smidgen of incipient magic inside them, Yuugi-boy,” said Mr. Pegasus in a jovial tone that sounded only a little forced. “We Gifted are just that – gifted with enough to turn ours into actual powers. Some people have marginally more than others. They’re naturally intuitive about things, or they have marvellous luck all the time, or they get hunches that usually turn out to be right. The brighter your magical core, the stronger or more numerous your powers are.” “And I …” Yuugi couldn’t finish the sentence. He had pulled Ushio’s core right out of him and devoured it. Cold fear and dread churned in his belly like an ice storm. He had been with Anzu all day, neither of them knowing how dangerous he was to her … “To put it in layman’s terms,” Shadi said bluntly, “You, Mr. Mutou, have an exceptionally powerful and exceptionally rare Gift. You have the ability to remove others’ magical cores and take them into yourself to be absorbed by your own core. It is a power designed to make its bearer ever-young, ever-healthy and ever more powerful by feeding off others, including those with only minimal incipient magic. There have been legends, but …” He shook his head. “In Sanskrit, you are prana vatala. In Greece, you were called vrykolakas magikos. In Russia, Magya Strigoi. In England and America, they call you energy predator, or psi-vamp.” Yuugi didn’t like the sound of any of those. He liked the translation even less. “Vampire of magic. Stealer of souls.” Mr. Pegasus smashed the tension with his usual aplomb. “How very melodramatic of you, Shadi. If you were trying to frighten the poor boy, you’ve succeeded. He looks positively fossilized with fear.” “He should be.” Shadi refused to lighten his tone. “He is a danger to anyone, but especially the Gifted.” “And you know this how? As far as I’m aware, there has never been another reported psi-vamp in the entire world, and you know how I have my finger on that particular button. He hasn’t exactly been attacking students left, right and centre since he arrived, has he? He’s no more dangerous than a flea.” Mr. Pegasus bent down to take Yuugi’s cheek between thumb and forefinger. It seemed he was proving the same point Miss Kujaku had by keeping hold of Yuugi. “Are you, Yuugi-boy?” “Keeping him here is a mistake,” Shadi maintained. “Shadi, far be it for me to remind you, but this is exactly what the Academy was set up to do: teach young Gifted people how to live with their powers.” “He will live with his powers,” Shadi said. “It is we who will not.” “Pish-posh.” Mr. Pegasus straightened. “Your melodrama clinches it: I will take on Yuugi-boy’s tuition myself.” “You’ll be my tutor?” Yuugi said dazedly. “I don’t you can get more miscellaneous than you, dear boy.” Mr. Pegasus flashed him a dazzling smile. “This is going to be fun. You just wait.” “But … what if I do … what if I …” Yuugi swallowed. “I might hurt someone. I didn’t even remember I’d done that to Ushio.” “Hmm. From what we’ve seen and what you’ve said, it seems your power is triggered involuntarily when magic perceives a threat to you. Far be it for me to slight our students, but they are, shall we say, somewhat lacking in control. It is possible, I suppose, that one of them may have an ‘accident’ that you perceive incorrectly.” He sighed. “Shadi?” “No.” “Don’t be difficult.” “No.” Yuugi looked between them. Miss Kujaku seemed confused as well. “What are you silly men talking about?” “There is a magical focus designed to inhibit powers entirely,” Rishid told her. “It is potent, but it is not fully understood. It was many hundreds of years ago and the original creator has long since passed over.” “We mostly use soulstone for focuses,” Mr. Pegasus explained. “It’s less unpredictable and eventually reshapes itself to fit what its user requires. It acts like a channelling device. Orichalcos intensifies magic, but it’s unpredictable in large quantities, which is why we grind it up and add it to chalk sticks when students need a boost for their Gifts. On the opposite end of the scale, there’s skyiron, starcrystal and moonsilver, which suppress parts of a Gift to allow others to breathe. If you combine soulstone, skyiron, moonsilver and starcrystal, plus some known enchantments, you get –” “The opposite of a magical focus,” Shadi broke in. “A magical blinder.” “Exactly.” “And … you want me to wear one of those?” Yuugi asked. “Correction: I want you to wear the only one in existence. Just for day-to-day living, you understand. In tutor sessions, you’ll remove it so we can train you in how to use your Gifts properly.” Yuugi was boggled by the overabundance of information. He was aware, however, of Shadi’s continued disapproval. “It did not work for Malik,” he said tightly. “It will not work for this boy either.” “Malik kept taking it off himself,” Rishid retorted sharply. “Yuugi is not –” He stopped himself. Yuugi wondered who this ‘Malik’ was, but didn’t get the chance to ask, as Shadi unfolded his arms and finally relented. “But I am registered my dislike of this idea.” “That’s your right, old friend,” said Mr. Pegasus. “Now run along and fetch it.” Shadi took the key from around his neck and twisted it in mid-air. A glowing blue crack opened in reality and he stepped through. It sealed behind him, but reopened a few minutes later to let him back through. In his hands he held what looked like an upside-down pyramid pendant made of stone. It glittered with what might have been silica as he passed it to Mr. Pegasus and the headmaster looped the leather cord over Yuugi’s head. The thing was heavy, but not as heavy as Yuugi might have expected; or maybe that was the sudden lightness inside his chest. He touched it. “Never take it off outside my office,” Mr. Pegasus warned. “I won’t,” Yuugi promised. “I promise.” “Good boy.” Mr. Pegasus beamed. “And that, I believe, concludes our meeting. Miss Kujaku, would you please take Yuugi-boy back to his friends? I’m sure there’s still time left in the day for him to have some fun while we draw up a timetable for him.” “Sure,” Miss Kujaku said. “C’mon, Yuugi.” The last thing Yuugi saw as he left was Mr. Pegasus waving at him while Shadi glared daggers at his back. …. Rishid knocked on Isis’s door and waited for her to respond. “Come in.” He pushed open the door to find her on the bed. He had expected her to be meditating, but she was staring across the room at the window. She had opened the blinds, allowing sunlight to stream into the usually dark room. “Isis?” “I knew you’d be coming to see me. I also knew what you’re about to ask.” Rather than go for the question straight off, he asked, “When did you know?” “About you coming to see me, or about Yuugi Mutou?” “Both.” “About half an hour ago.” Fifteen minutes before Mai had projected the boy’s memories and they had learned what he was. Isis hadn’t had enough time to warn them. Then again, why would she have warned them? Pegasus’s solution made sense on paper. Shadi’s concerns aside, Rishid could see the sense in giving the boy a focus to keep his magic suppressed. Shadi worried about students who used focuses for suppression becoming reliant on them. It was why they had decoded against giving one to Shizuka Kawaii – there was a risk she would use it as a crutch rather than learn how to control her Gift herself. Speaking of which – Rishid spotted the little velveteen box on the bookshelf, next to a copy of the telephone directory and a romance novel with an unbroken spine. Isis should have had more romance in her life, he thought. She deserved it. Instead, it had been burnt out of her a long time ago and the scar tissue around her heart had numbed her against trying to love again. Her fiancé and Malik had left her scarred inside and, try as he might, he had not been able to heal her. Even bringing her to Japan hadn’t done it, although she was better than she used to be since they came to the Academy. Isis saw the students as her responsibility and dedicated herself to their welfare even as her own deteriorated. Rishid crossed to the bookshelf and picked up the box. It looked like the kind of thing given by a lover; like it should contain a token of affection. “I wish you’d wear this,” he said. Isis’s eyes flicked towards him and away again. “I don’t like to.” “It’d help.” “I need to know whatever’s coming.” “The necklace won’t suppress your magic, Isis.” “Not all of it, no, but enough.” “It’s a focus,” he argued without vigour. They’d had this discussion so many times before. “It would let you apply your powers according to your own will. You wouldn’t be assaulted by random images or visions all the time.” “The last time I wore it,” she murmured, “I didn’t see what Malik was about to do. I was so busy trying to foresee a way to restore his sanity that I missed him burning that guard half to death. That man will never have his face back. If Malik hadn’t been so drugged …” She paused before continuing. “I can’t afford to shut out any visions that want to show themselves to me just because they’re not what I was focussing on at the time.” Rishid sighed. She wouldn’t be swayed. He put the box back and came to sit beside her. It took a moment, but he chanced putting his arm around her in an awkward half-hug. “We’ll get him back someday.” “Someday,” she said without conviction. “Now are you going to ask that question?” He withdrew his arm. “Yuugi Mutou,” he said gravely. “Is he really as dangerous as Shadi thinks?” “Yes,” she replied. “And no. There are several dozen possibilities concerning him. The Academy’s future is a kaleidoscope with him at its centre.” “Will he hurt someone?” “Maybe. Maybe not.” “Isis, this isn’t the time to equivocate.” She fixed him with a disapproving look. “You know that isn’t how my Gift works. If things happen in a particular order, yes, he’s going to hurt someone, but that someone could easily be himself. Alternatively, he could save someone. He could save everyone. I don’t know, Rishid!” Her voice rose an octave. “There are no certainties. The future hasn’t been written yet.” Rishid closed his eyes and felt out his own magic. It spiralled outwards from his chest, running along the lines of his tattoos from beneath like water surging into irrigation channels to reach thirsty fields. He could have called on any of the images drawn onto his skin, but right now he didn’t need a warrior with the head of a bird, or a jackal with razor teeth, or a bird of prey large enough to carry him, or any of the others. His cheek burned for a moment as a small cat emerged in a swirl of light. The bare lines peeled away from his skin and reformed into a three-dimensional sandy-coloured feline on the bed. He opened his eyes to see it climb instantly into Isis’s familiar lap and butt her with his head. The cat liked Isis. Her hand fell to stroking it, the rhythmical movement and its contented purring seeming to comfort her. “Yuugi Mutou is a very special boy,” she said softly. “Whatever the future does hold for him, the Academy is the best place for him to be.” Rishid nodded. That was good enough for him. He and his sister sat together as the afternoon wore on, saying nothing, the room filled only with the purr of a very comfortable cat. …. Ryota stood on the diving board and breathed in deeply. His chest puffed out. He slapped it a couple of times in a manly fashion and then released the breath. It was a good day to be alive and an even better day to be in the water. The sea would have been best, but the Academy pool would do in a pinch. “Hi, Ryota!” said a voice. [This post was far too big. I apologise for that. I also apologise for my next request – something I would not ordinarily solicit, but which my back-brain compels me to at least ask about. You see, the way this story is shaping up, I had an idea for a couple of the characters we haven’t used yet: namely Dartz and his four horsemen (Gurimo, the original beardy fellah who was defeated in the same episode he appeared just to show how badass the orichalcos was). My ideas was to hold off introducing them for a while as we get to know the characters we already have, then at mutually agreeable point in the story, we have the horsemen raid the school and kidnap some of the students. The reason? Underground battles between Gifted people, whom Dartz has hyped up on orichalcos to inflate their powers to (violently) entertaining levels. Thus the rest of the cast would have to ride in and rescue them, and we could go from there. Does that sound any good to you? Feel free to tell me to bugger off. incidentally, skyiron (sometimes spelled sky-iron or given the name 'thogcha') is a name used for meteroic meteoric iron in Tibet --> en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iron_in_folklore#Meteoric_Iron_in_Tibet]
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Post by cypsiman2 on Jan 30, 2012 20:33:48 GMT -5
[So far as I'm concerned, you have nothing to apologize about, you wrote a ton of good material and I only hope that I can return the favor with this entry. Now, concerning Dartz and the four henchmen...I'm thinking no. Among other things, we've already got Gozaburo's school and its dudes, and the issues of Malik and Bakura. What I'm thinking might be good would be that Gozaburo would, somehow, find out about Yuugi's power and decide that he needs to gain control of it immediately, so he sends Seto, Noah, and Bakura to grab Yuugi, and in the chaos and confusion Malik gets out and he and Bakura form an alliance, not unlike what happened in the regular series. Either way, underground super powered battles are always fun, so let me know what you think. Also, nice Tibetan trivia. *thumbs up*]
"Hey Mana!" Ryota looked down from the board and saw his good friend waving at him, wearing a slimming one-piece swimsuit. "Check it out, I'm going to do a 360 degree flip." He bounced on the board a couple of times and leaped into the air, spinning end over end as he did until he punched down into the water, having made good on his word.
"Wow!" He heard her say the moment he emerged from beneath the drink and saw her clapping enthusiastically. "You could probably compete in the Olympics."
"You're much too kind Mana." Ryota swam up to the edge and pulled himself back onto, more or less, dry land. "Even if I were that good, Gifted like us can't compete in athletic events against normal people." It didn't even matter if the Gift in question had nothing to do with the event, the rules were strict and ardently enforced. But of course, when it came to the rules about what you can dump in the sea and how much, suddenly things got a lot more flexible and free-wheeling, scratch your back and scratch mine.
"Ryota!" Mana suddenly teleported right in front of his face, causing the water on him to evaporate very quickly. "You're doing that thing again where you work yourself up over stuff you can't do anything about."
"Ah, was I now?" Ryota knew that look in Mana's eyes plenty well, there was no arguing when she got like that. It may not have come in one big, devastating chunk, but she'd had a pretty hard life, the one thing every Gifted seemed to have in common. That hard living gave her glare an edge that could cut. "I suppose you're right, but I can't help it; we've got these powers, and if we don't use them for what we believe in, then what's the point?"
"Well, maybe one day, after you've got your powers all figured out and everything, maybe then you can go out and show those," and then she started imitating him, poorly, "industrial pig dogs how much their slop really stinks!" Then her expression broke out into laughter. "I don't know how you can talk like that, it's so funny!"
"It may sound funny, but trust me Mana, I'm dead serious." He knew that she understood this, so he never minded; he just wondered why the heck she was always listening to him when she herself didn't really seem to care about the environment one way or the other. "Well, I'm going to do laps now; mind timing me?"
"Not at all!"
....
"Are you going to listen, landlord?" That's what the other Bakura, the Dark Bakura, called him. Ryou Bakura didn't understand why he did, but then again, he didn't understand why he did the things he did, he really didn't. "If you don't help me, then it won't be long before the Meikyuu Brothers are done sealing off the Destroyer forever, and if he's lost, then neither of us will ever get what we want." Dark Bakura's interest in the Destroyer, the third personality within him, Bakura didn't understand that either; it was the one being that frightened him, yet he was always struggling to keep him within reach.
"I don't know what you mean." He didn't, he really didn't, he had nothing in common with either of them, he was a good person and never thought the kind of thoughts that they did, never.
"Okay, I'm going to risk that they might overhear us, but you're leaving me no choice; the Destroyer gets sealed away, and we lose access to his power, and without that power, I can't retrieve Amane's Magical Core from the afterlife. Are you going to tell me that you're okay with that, that you're fine with never seeing her again?"
"Of, of course I am, she's dead, I've accepted that."
"Why do you continue to lie to me, yourself? You haven't accepted it, that's why we exist as your Shadows, the parts of you you can't accept, you don't want to admit. And besides, you don't have to accept her death; we are gifted, the normal rules do not apply to us, but only if we work together." There was a sudden rumble, like the turning of a tumbler. "You hear that? We're running out of time; if we don't work together and trick those fools into thinking they've succeeded, then we will remain under Gozaburo's thumb forever. Do you really think Amane would want our power used by a madman like that, do you really think that would make her happy, knowing her brother is being used like a hollowed out doll with a gun?"
"I...I..." Ryou Bakura couldn't help it, he saw his sister's smiling face, and gave in.
"Good, now let's hurry, we've only got one shot at this."
....
"When are you going to get it through your thick skull that I need to be the one in control?" The twisted and distorted reflection of Malik spoke in a strange, echoing tone. Malik glared at his Dark self, darker at any rate.
"As soon as you understand that I'm the one who needs full control of our power." Malik wished he could just burn the Shadow into ash, but even if he did have all of his own power under control, it wouldn't work; he was dealing with a mental construct, a split in his own psyche, fire could do nothing against him. "So long as you hold out, there's a chance that Isis and Rishid could be hurt." The memory of that man who'd struck her, it infuriated him, and fed into his darker self without him realizing.
"That's right, keep dwelling on the pain, it tastes real good." Dark Malik ran his tongue across his teeth, which looked sharp enough to actually cut it.
"Stop that!" Malik caught himself and slammed the feed of negative emotions shut. "You are not taking over, never again!"
"Sorry Malik, but you're such a sensitive soul, you feel your sister's pain so acutely, it gives me such a warm feeling in the pit of my stomach."
Malik turned away and fled into a deeper subconscious domain where Dark Malik could not enter, not yet at least. There, he tried as much as possible to dwell on the few happy memories he had, being carried on Isis's back, Rishid crushing a snake that was about to bite him, that sort of thing. It worked, but it only went so far, he needed new memories and he needed them soon.
....
"All right boys and girls, here you go, one little teddy bear of a man who's been checked for fleas and ticks and safe to play with." Yuugi blushed furiously as Mai laughed in a haughty fashion; back in the office she'd seemed so supportive and sensitive, but out in the open she could be, well...
"Thank you, Miss. Kujaku, we'll take the rest from here." Anzu grabbed Yuugi by the shoulder and tugged him away from her. "Say, what is this thing, a Focus?" She was looking down at the Inverted Pyramid he now wore, would have to wear all the time except in Mr. Pegasus's office; did that mean even while he slept?
"It's, it's to keep my powers from activating." Yuugi saw the worried look in her eyes and wished there was something, anything he could say to make it go away.
"Woah, must be some pretty potent power you've got packed in you there, Yuugi." Jounouchi said with an impressed sounding whistle.
"Yeah, probably makes pulling a ten meter long-jump from standing look like chump change."
"Hey, can't you guys see how worried Yuugi is?" Anzu whipped on them with her feet hitting the ground with a crack. Yuugi quickly tugged on her arm, and she looked down at him in confusion.
"Actually, that, that makes me feel a...a bit better, actually."
"Well, if anything comes up, Mr. Pegasus will let you know over the P.A. Later!" Miss Kujaku took off, leaving the teens to their own devices.
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Post by Scribbler on Feb 5, 2012 18:48:34 GMT -5
I like the idea of Seto and Noa being sent to raid the Academy for Yuugi, although since we've established Bakura is ... less than stable, I doubt Gozaburo would send him along. Plus, Malik isn't actually at the Academy. That's not to say Bakura couldn't find out about Malik some other way and go off alone to break him out. > Cool beans. Can we keep the Dartz plotline for later? I really like it, but I can see what you mean about things being complicated enough as they are. Yuugi needs time to settle into his new life and grow to like it before we start ripping him and it apart at the seams. > .... Honda whistled and shaded his eyes to watch her go. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder whether she’s bipolar or something. One moment she’s up, the next she’s down, the next she’s throwing stuff at the walls and screaming –” He paused at the shared look the others were sending him. “I walked in on her once. Guess I should’ve knocked. She was hurling stuff around like a Greek waiter at the end of a meal.” “She must’ve had her reasons,” Anzu said, but her look of concern belied her words. “We’ve all got our reasons,” Jounouchi said tightly. He switched the conversation back to Yuugi with all the finesse and subtlety of a co-pilot reaching across and grabbing the controls. “So, Yuugi, you got a focus item, huh? I don’t remember you saying what your power was when we met before. Or on stage during the assembly, either.” “I didn’t.” Yuugi wished that question would just go away and never be asked again. Jounouchi seemed like a nice enough guy, and he was obviously one of the friends Anzu had made since coming here, which raised him in Yuugi’s estimation. Yet Jounouchi’s Gift was so innocuous compared to Yuugi’s own. Super-strength was useful. What use was there in being a … he could barely bring himself to even think half the things Shadi had called him. He looked around at the gathered teens, who were scattered across the grass enjoying the sunshine. A couple had looked up at his approach with Miss Kujaku, but most had gone back to sunbathing or sleeping. He was willing to bet that all their powers were safer than his. He almost wished he still couldn’t remember anything about what he had done to Ushio. Plausible deniability was better than knowing and lying about it. Lying felt wrong, but ever since he arrived at the Academy people had been nothing but nice to him. Shadi was a notable exception, and that Mahaad boy wasn’t overflowing with joy, but everyone else had been great. The thought of them turning away from him in fear because of his power … he couldn’t deal with that. He had spent so long as a pariah. It was a lonely, numbing existence. Now he had a chance to actually have friends. The temptation was too much to risk it by telling them he was a magic-eater and if he took off this handy-dandy doohickey he might turn them all into entrees. “So spill,” Jounouchi insisted. “What do you do?” “I … can’t talk about it,” said Yuugi. “Aw, c’mon.” Jounouchi pulled him down to sit beside him and draped an arm over his shoulder. “That’s some pretty fancy jewellery you got there. Shadi does all that weird astral stuff. Do you do that too? Or do you dream-walk like Rebecca?” “Neither.” “Jounouchi!” Anzu plucked his arm up and threw it back at him, plonking herself on Yuugi’s other side. “Leave him alone.” She leaned in close, the better for confidentiality. “But you’ll tell me later, right?” Despondently, Yuugi shook his head. “Mr. Pegasus said not to discuss it with anyone else.” Okay, so that was a lie, but just a little white one. Mr. Pegasus hadn’t said he should discuss it with anyone either. A brief flash of hurt crossed Anzu’s face, but she covered it well. “Oh. Right. Okay then. But your tutor really is Shadi, right?” “No, it’s Mr. Pegasus.” “Shit, man! Seriously?” Jounouchi looked impressed. “Is that unusual?” Yuugi looked between him and the others. “Is that unusual?” Jounouchi repeated in a fake falsetto, and then ducked to avoid Anzu’s hand. “Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me!” “Oh, grow up, Jounouchi!” Anzu replied archly. “More like exceptional,” Honda replied to Yuugi’s question. “The headmaster almost never takes on students.” “He doesn’t?” Honda shook his head. “You must be something really special, dude.” “I’m not.” Yuugi’s hands bunched into fists on his knees. “Really, I’m not.” Two figures came towards them across the quad, one holding the other’s arm. Miho waved furiously when she saw them, while Shizuka seemed intent on just not falling over as she walked across the bumpy surface. As they arrived, Jounouchi sprang to his feet to help his sister sit down, so Yuugi found himself sitting next to her instead. Being squashed between two pretty girls was the stuff of schoolboy fantasy – and he felt more uncomfortable than ever as his little white lie gnawed like a cockroach in the pit of his stomach. “One bathroom break, all done,” Miho proudly announced, apparently not noticing the colour that crept into Shizuka’s cheeks. “Miho has done her duty as Shizuka’s friend well, yes?” “Hey, Miho,” Honda said in a louder voice than usual. “Guess what? Mr. Pegasus is Yuugi’s new personal tutor!” “No!” Miho gasped, clapping her hands to her chin. Everything about her was so melodramatic, it was hard to take her seriously. “Miho is shocked! She might just faint clean away, right here on the ground!” She pretended to swoon, but righted herself and knelt next to Yuugi with a big grin. “Is this true, sweet-little-Yuugi?” “Uh, yes.” Yuugi nodded. Miho squealed. “You’ll be famous! Mr. Pegasus hasn’t had a student since Malik! Of course, Miho is sure you’ll turn out better than … uh-oh. Whoops!” She covered her mouth, eyes wide. “Miho has a big mouth. Things just pop out of it without her planning sometimes.” An uncomfortable hush filled the air. Yuugi glanced around at the sudden sombre expressions, confused. He recalled the name being mentioned in Mr. Pegasus’s office too, and wondered who this mysterious person could be. He hadn’t shaken hands with anyone called Malik during his introduction to the school. “Who’s Malik?” he asked. “We don’t talk about that guy,” Jounouchi said gruffly. “Shut up, Jounouchi.” Anzu shoved his shoulder, but she seemed just as discomfited. “Malik was a student here – one of the first, actually. Before Mr. Pegasus started the Academy he went to the Middle East, and he came back with Shadi, Rishid and Isis. Nobody knows the full story of how he met them, but Shadi brought students of his own from what we think was a kind of rescue programme in a war-torn country over there: Mahaad, Mana, Rishid, Isis and their younger brother, Malik.” That would explain how and why they all looked so similar, Yuugi thought. It had struck him as unusual to have so many expatriates from the same place in one school in just-left-of-nowhere Japan. “Mahaad and Mana were really young at the time – younger than high school age. Miss Kujaku was one of the first Japanese students Mr. Pegasus enrolled, and they were here before her. Malik was … he was …” Anzu seemed to be searching for the right word. “Fucked up in the head,” Jounouchi finished. “Big Brother!” Shizuka was aghast. “Sorry, sis, but he was. Absolutely FUBAR. That’s Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition. His powers drove him psycho, and then some.” “We don’t know that,” Anzu snapped. “Malik had mental problems, Yuugi, but we have no evidence it was his magic that caused them.” Yuugi started to understand why they were all so cagey and uncomfortable with the topic. They had no evidence, sure, and probably most of them hadn’t even been students here when Malik was around, but his story was a cautionary tale of what could happen to them. Gifted kids weren’t always lucky enough to get a place at a school like this. Some burnt out and died; others went mad. Nobody knew whether the magic itself destroyed their minds, or if the stress of being ostracised by their loved ones drove them over the edge until they lost control of their powers and had to be put down like rabid dogs. Newspapers liked to report sensationalised stories like that. Malik must be the bogeyman around here, Yuugi thought. Be careful and learn your lessons well, or you’ll end up like Malik. Train hard and do your homework, or you’ll end up like Malik. Except how did Malik end up? “The Ishtars were devastated,” Anzu went on. “They brought him to this country in the hopes he’d learn to control his magic, but he didn’t.” “Did he die?” Yuugi asked quietly. “No,” Jounouchi interrupted. “But he should’ve.” “Big Brother!” Shizuka cried. “I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking!” “That’s the point, dude.” Honda laid a hand on his friend’s tense shoulder. “We may think it, but we don’t say it out loud. It’s not cool.” “Yeah, well, cool or not, maybe we should say it more often. Malik’s in some prison in fuck-knows-where, and good riddance to him. Unlike the rest of you, I actually met that twerp.” “You did?” Miho leaned in so close her nose practically touched his. “Ooh, when?” Jounouchi craned his head back to keep from brushing lips with her as they talked. Miho wasn’t trying to kiss him; she just had little to no idea about personal space. “Ma- Miss Kujaku went to see him once and I tagged along. They have to check on him, right? Anyway, he was too fucked up for words. You know, he was carted off to the Gifted Looney Bin for trying to kill his own brother, and now they keep him drugged up because he nearly killed his guard too. If Malik Ishtar ain’t dead yet, they'd better be keeping him on a truckload of pills a day; because that’s the only way he won’t hurt someone else.” “Prison?” Yuugi echoed. “They really put people in prison if they can’t control their magic?” “Not prison,” Anzu hastily explained. “Rishid said it’s an isolation facility where he’s the only patient. They’re trying to figure out ways to help him, so he can come back to the Academy and not hurt anybody anymore.” “Like I said: prison.” Jounouchi folded his arms. “Best place for him, if you ask me.” Shizuka got suddenly to her feet. “Could someone please take me back to my room?” “Sure.” Jounouchi started to get up and take her arm, but she pulled away from him. “Not you, Big Brother. You’re being hateful. I really don’t like it when you talk that way about poor Malik.” “What? But you never even met him!” Jounouchi protested. “Maybe not, but he’s still a human being, and he deserves more kindness and respect than you’ve been showing.” “He ain’t even here!” “That doesn’t matter!” Her delicate fingers were balled into fists, which trembled at her sides in impotent rage. “What if it was me whose powers went out of control? What if my powers had driven me mad and I was the one who had to be separated from society in case I hurt someone? Would you be so callous and cruel then?” “That’s … that’s different!” Jounouchi spluttered. “You’re nothing like that psycho!” “But I could be!” “No, Shizuka, don’t say shit like that. You’re not gonna –” “Just … stop, Big Brother. Just stop.” Shizuka shook her head. “Please. You’ve said enough.” Honda got up and took her hand, just as Miho did likewise. Their fingers tangled over Shizuka’s. Honda’s face flamed. “Uh, would you girls like an escort?” he asked. “Miho would love extra company,” Miho beamed. “How about Shizuka?” “Sure,” Shizuka murmured. “That’d be nice.” She allowed herself to be escorted away, leaving Jounouchi behind without a backwards glance. He stared after the trio. Yuugi looked at Anzu, but she was busy watching Jounouchi’s reaction. Eventually he settled back between them and started uprooting handfuls of grass in short, savage bursts. “I never meant it like that,” he muttered. “Fuck, I never … she isn’t … fucking hell!” Yuugi was grateful things had shifted away from him and his Gift, but he was left feeling odder than ever. Given that he wasn’t willing to discuss his own power, he couldn’t very well ask about Shizuka’s, but her reaction mirrored his own fears. If he took off the focus item Mr. Pegasus had given him and his magic ran wild, what was to stop him from being locked away too? He shivered at the prospect. “You really need to think more before you open your mouth, Jounouchi,” said Anzu. “Hey, I don’t need you bitching at me as well,” he snapped back. Anzu’s spine arched. She got up, brushed off her skirt, and held out her hand to Yuugi. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Suddenly this place stinks.” “Good riddance to you, too,” Jounouchi mumbled. “Is he going to be okay?” Yuugi asked as they walked away. “Yeah, he’s just full of hot air. Give it a while and he’ll see what he did wrong and go apologise to Shizuka. Until then, he’ll be unbearable to be around. It’s better just to leave him to his own devices until he’s cooled off.” Anzu stared straight ahead. “Would you like to see some more of the school?” “Uh, sure.” Yuugi wondered what else there could be to see. Classrooms, maybe? Anzu thought for a moment. A smile curled done side of her mouth. “How do you like horses?” “Excuse me?” “We’re going to visit the stables.” …. Gozaburo Kaiba sat at his desk, shuffling papers without really seeing them. News that Ryou Bakura’s reorientation was coming along nicely had put him in an even better mood than Seto and Noa’s displays in training. Today was turning out to be a prodigious day indeed. A familiar letterhead caught his eye. He flipped to it and glanced briefly at the memo. It was written in code, of course; designed to make the message within seem innocuous in case anyone who shouldn’t see it still took a look. Gozaburo ran his operations with clarity of subterfuge. The different levels of his enterprise stayed separate to everyone but him until he chose to merge them. Case in point: the Orszag Operation. Orszag was a tiny country in the heart of several other warring nations. It had resisted arming itself, claiming neutrality that, impossibly, its neighbours heeded. Seeing an opportunity to profit, Gozaburo sent in a handful of students who attacked the embassy of Felebarat, Orszag’s closest, hair-trigger neighbour. The students blew it to smithereens in an apparent act of Orszagian rebellion against the small occupation. Felebarat retaliated against the insult by invading for real. Gozaburo then sold armaments to both sides, using telepaths to convince both that Kaiba Corp was obviously the best choice to defend their nation’s honour. The Orszag Operation was just one of many ways he had united the apparently philanthropic Kaiba Institute with his pre-existing businesses. There were so many ways the Gifted could be used, each more ingenious than the last as new magic and new powers emerged with every new recruit. Gozaburo spent time scouring for impressionable young people to enrol. Usually their families were grateful to get them off their hands, or grateful to have all their school fees paid for, or grateful to be let off the hook of caring for their special children. Some students were more useful than others – Espa Roba and his brothers were a real find, since nobody suspected the youngest of being anything more than a lost child, and paid the price for that underestimation. Those students who didn’t have the kind of magic he needed still found roles in other ways. Of course, Gozaburo had to keep the majority of his endeavours secret, but that made things all the more delicious. It was a game of wits, outmanoeuvring the authorities and laughing behind their backs. He slipped the memo back into place and set his paperwork aside. Touching the mouse, he brought his computer to life from its screensaver and perused his email for a few minutes. There were several requests from businessmen like him, who had heard through illicit channels about how Kaiba Corp could provide ‘special’ help for those willing to pay enough. There was also a report on their profit margins for the last quarter, which were up by several points. When he got to the last non-spam of the day, he clicked to open a message from the head of the Science Division. It read that Project Eden was progressing well in the theoretical stage and would be ready for beta testing sooner than anticipated. The charts and trees he had included made Gozaburo frown, since they weren’t encrypted. He would have to have a word with that man about security. Or maybe he should send Seto to see him. Ah, Seto. There was something about that boy that made Gozaburo so … proud. Except it wasn’t just pride. When he had watched him that morning, he had felt a thrill of possession. Seto was his; his to command, his to hold back and his to unleash. The elegance with which Seto destroyed things was breath-taking. It was a shame he couldn’t use the boy on many operations, since his ice magic had limited applications in the jobs they had received so far. Still, just having him and knowing he belonged to him was enough for Gozaburo. For now, at least. …. Shadi stepped out of the astral portal like he was stepping off an escalator. All the guards here were used to seeing him pop in and out, but it still unnerved some of them. Today’s stood straighter at his desk, gulping at the sight of a man in a robe appear from a glowing blue doorway where before there had been none. “How is he?” Shadi asked. Something about Yuugi Mutou had made him want to come and check on Malik. He didn’t expect there to be any change, and he hadn’t told either of the Ishtars he was coming, but the urge had been undeniable. “Um, the patient has, um, no visible signs of improvement or … or deterioration, um, sir.” The guard seemed to be trembling. Was he really so scary after watching over Malik? Then again, Malik was heavily sedated. Maybe Shadi was scarier than an anesthetised teenager. Shadi walked over to the secure door of Malik’s chamber. Inside, the room was quiet and dark, since there were no windows this far underground. Malik lay on the bed, one arm slung across his face, apparently asleep. His wild hair was strewn across the pillow as if he had been tossing and turning, although that was impossible. Shadi sighed. The situation was unpalatable but necessary. He had access here because of his magic – no door could bar him once he had traversed the astral plains and located a place he wanted to be. Sometimes location took longer than actually getting in somewhere, but the fact remained that no lock could keep him out. “All right,” he said to the guard. “Thank you.” Taking up his key, he opened another doorway and left without waiting for a response.
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