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The girl that isn't Ruri is talking to him again. With his eyes closed, she sounds just like his sister, same voice same height same bright blue eyes, frowning at him for staying up all night and not treating his injuries. He can still see her with her hands on her hips and her lip bleeding, chapped because he lost her balm and—
"Kurosaki?"
—with bright pink hair in pigtails, saying words like her name in ways like strangers.
He opens his eyes and looks at her.
Most of them have difficulty meeting his stares. She doesn't. Not when he first saw her, not at the tournament, not now in the hospital lobby. He was discharged earlier that morning with his wounds bandaged and an order not to duel (ha), and he's been in the waiting room since, eyes trailed on the TV.
She told him Yuuya was here. In a small, closed-off ward just a wing away, he still hadn't calmed down.
"Kurosaki," she said. "Could you... wait?"
Shun had nowhere else to go.
Now she's come to see him hours later, her hair loose and falling apart. There are dark shadows under her eyes and worry etched in her eyebrows, scratches on her arms where Yuuya must've clawed at her.
She says, "Nothing's working. We tried talking to him, knocking him out, numbing him down, but nothing. It's like… It's like he can't even hear us."
Shun doesn't say anything.
"Could you try?" There's an urgency in her eyes, a hope.
Shun knew this was coming. He looks away.
"Please?"
He can't say no to Ruri. Not when it's about Yuuto.
The boy tied to the bed isn't Yuuya, and Shun knows because he isn't Yuuto, either. He thrashes and screams and bites the fortune teller girl when she gets too close, hard enough to draw blood, and when Yuzu runs forward to push him off, he grabs at her hand and digs his nails deep until she smacks him and wrenches it away.
Shun's heart chills and sticks in his throat. The sounds that Yuuya makes are feral, noises and growls that echo of Heartland, of a rainy day by the docks when white-eyed and sharp-tongued, Yuuto first summoned Dark Rebellion Xyz Dragon.
This isn't Yuuya. This isn't Yuuto. But it's closer to one than the other.
Shun steps forward. "Yuuto."
It's too soft to be heard over Yuuya's struggling.
"Yuuto," he says again, and this time it's louder than he intended, echoes somewhere in the back of his head, but it gets Yuuya's attention. For a moment he's stunned, silent, motionless, but his eyes, wild and red, focus on Shun and register recognition.
Then he leaps at him.
It takes both Yuzu and Gongenzaka to hold Yuuya down and suddenly there's yelling and shouting from all over, the fortune teller screaming something into an apple about how it's working, about how two hearts are responding and how the darkness is sinking away, Yuuya snarling at Shun and Yuzu shouting at him to keep going.
"Yuuto!" Shun bellows now, because the ice in his throat starts to melt into his veins, cold filling him with words and conviction, and now he knows, now he sees—his best friend is here. "It's not over yet! We said—you said we'd make a safer world for everyone! You and me and Ruri!"
His voice cracks when he says his sister's name and Yuuya hisses and puts his hands to his ears like Shun's voice is poison, and it feels like it's just them in this hospital room, Shun and Yuuto and the darkness that's trying to keep them and everything else they love apart. "You said you wouldn't—you said you wouldn't hurt anyone anymore! But who's going to save everyone if you're gone? You have to come back! Yuuto!"
The last of his words resound and Yuuya's body goes limp.
Quiet.
Shun inches closer.
Then Yuuya coughs and he's up again, croaking out something that's finally part of a language. "Sh-Shun—I—"
He?
Yuuya's hand reaches out for him, saying his name again, and Shun knocks everyone between them aside, out of the way, this can't be a trick because it's a struggle and that's Yuuto, it's Yuuto trying to break though, it's—
The hand shoots out to wrap itself around Shun's throat.
Yuuya starts to laugh, something hollow, something throaty, until Shun kicks him right off. Yanks at Yuuya's arm and breaks it.
Pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, fierce like the wind on Heartland's docks.
The laughter stops. So do the shouts.
"Shun," he gasps, desperate wants of air, violent grasps at life. "Shun, I—I—"
He breaks down. Buries his face in Shun's chest and whimpers, deep and unearthly, like he's clawing at something inside of himself.
"Shun—Shun—"
She wants him to apologize for breaking his hand.
Yuuya won't talk to anyone, she says, which is almost worse than before. Almost, because at least she knows he's Yuuya this time, even if he's quiet and unnerving and won't stop looking at his hands or chewing his lip.
"He's never done that before," she says, and wonders where he picked it up.
Shun says he'll go.
He knocks on the door first. There's no response, but there's not much private Yuuya can do with his arm in a sling in a hospital bed, so Shun goes inside.
Yuuya's in the bed, eyes on his blank cast, head elsewhere. He doesn't notice that someone's walked in. His lip is bleeding. Shun watches him for a minute or two before he decides to sit down—it's better than the waiting room, and here he won't see Yuzu or the other one.
He doesn't apologize for breaking his arm.
Yuuya doesn't seem to blame him. He says abruptly, minutes into Shun's presence, "What year did the middle school flood?"
"What?"
"In Heartland," Yuuya says, and Shun sits up, marveling at the familiarity with which he says it. "In middle school, what year did the building flood? There were no classes for a week. Shun."
Shun has to think about it. "Third year," he says, finally. "You and Ruri wouldn't stop laughing about how I had school and you didn't."
Yuuya frowns. "Me?"
"Yuuto?"
He chews at his lip again and Shun wants to physically restrain him. He doesn't have to because Yuuya tastes the blood and shakes his head. "No… No, he…"
There's a lump in his throat that burns, ice from Yuuto, acid from Yuuya. Shun wonders which will kill him.
Yuuya says, "I'm sorry. He's gone."
Shun stands.
Yuuya chews at his lip.
"Stop." Shun scowls, stalks over to force Yuuya's halt, but when Yuuya looks at him warily, says as though it's natural, "Shun?", Shun's hands drop to his side.
He forces out a breath. Hollow, empty.
He turns to walk away.
Except...
Except a hand grasps at his arm. It's a loose grip that intensifies abruptly, nails digging into Shun's sleeve, pulling him back.
"Wait," says Yuuya, desperate, seeking. "Stay."
The boy that isn't Yuuto is talking to him again. He smiles, and if Shun closes his eyes, it's believable.