Archive of Our Own

Academia had not changed. But who was left, to change Academia? Edo? Asuka? Sora couldn’t help but think that Serena would have done a better job. As long as Leo Akaba was alive there would be people calling for his reinstatement. To many, his strict regime provided a purpose and unity that their freedom lacked. And it had been easier, under Leo Akaba, hadn’t it? Back when they didn’t have to handle the guilt and no one had called Sora a war criminal.

That didn’t matter to Sora. He knew what he’d done whether someone named it or not. He’d known it when he’d done it, too. It had been a conscious choice to put his safety before that of civilians, to survive no matter what. And he’d enjoyed it, so what? Why should something as insignificant as his feelings have moral weight? In fact, Sora found the attempts of his classmates to shrug responsibility nauseating. They, too, had made that choice – to kill instead of being killed – and the least they could do was own up to it as Sora did, to look long into the abyss and recognize themselves as monsters.

They had made reparations, which was the only reason Sora hadn’t started kicking at Academia’s walls until the whole fascist institution keeled into the dust and died indignantly like the dog it was. But he was quickly coming to realize that there would be little internal accountability. The buzzword was forgiveness, or a fresh start, or something equally idiotic. Sora knew it for what it was. Power protects power. The same instructors that had brutalized Sora and Yuri were still teaching children.

“Who else can teach them?” Asuka was busy, craned over paperwork. It seemed to be all she had time for these days. She was still so young. Sora wanted her to have time for other things, to not be trapped by Academia’s need for her. She’d gotten out, all by herself – she was one of the only ones to be that good. She deserved better than cleaning up their mess. “We don’t have other qualified teachers.”

“They’re qualified?” Sora quirked an eyebrow, thinking about their idea of teaching, which amounted to a pipeline from wide-eyed youth to people like Yuri and Sora.

“They need a fresh start too.” Asuka told him seriously. She hadn’t looked up from the papers she was reading once. “There’s oversight now. They can’t get away with anything anymore. We have rules. Most of them were acting under orders, anyway.”

Sora wanted to shout at her because this was too personal and his own wounds were too raw. But he could see, in the curve of her back, in the bags under her eyes, that she was trying as hard as she could. First Yusho Sakaki had leaned on her support in organising his resistance, now this. And did Sora have an alternative for teachers? There were children who needed someone to teach them – someone stable, an adult. Not everyone could leave Academia when the military school had been disbanded, and of those who could not everyone had wanted to go home to the people who had sent them to war. It needed to keep functioning in some capacity and like this at least it was functioning.

When Sora didn’t answer her, Asuka sighed and put her knuckles against her eyelids, kneading. She sighed.

“It’s not forever, Sora. Just until we can find replacements. We’re trying as hard as we can.” She gestured towards her overflowing desk.

“Are you sure I can’t help?” Sora’s hands were clenched into fists and the words sounded uncomfortably like begging.

“You’re 13, Sora. You’ve already missed out on enough of your childhood. Go fly a kite or visit Yuya.”

Sora didn’t point out that Asuka was only 17, or that 13 was plenty old to turn smaller children into cards, or that his childhood was beyond saving. She was busy, and he wasn’t helping; the least he could do was leave her in peace. He nodded seriously, as though considering her offer, then popped one of the smiles he had practiced in the mirror until his face hurt and waved goodbye. Asuka was already writing again by the time he left. It was as though he hadn’t spoken to her at all.

Momentarily, Sora considered visiting Shun. He had promised himself no more running away. With a sigh, he headed towards the train station.

The Xyz Dimension was... overwhelming. Sora was too old to believe in ghosts, yet the impressions of Yuto and Ruri hung mournfully over the gleaming landscape. Academia had done an excellent job on the rebuilding. It was more modern and comfortable than the Fusion Dimension now. That was justice. Sora still wanted Leo Akaba’s head on a spike, but he had to admit that this was more helpful, closer to healing.

During reconstruction, they had made a monument to the fallen. It had Yuto and Ruri’s names, hidden in the long lists. Sora found himself there whenever he passed into the dimension to help with reconstruction efforts. And, without fail, Shun would be sitting on the bench staring at his sister and best friend’s names carved into the stone. It was the closest thing they had to a grave. He was there now, empty palms facing the sky in genuflection, something missing from his eyes.

“They’re still alive.” Sora couldn’t stop himself. They had this conversation whenever he visited because he could never stop himself. “They’re inside Yuya and Yuzu, you can visit them.” Yuya was pretty bad at channeling the spirits, but he was getting better.

He received a blank stare in return, as though Sora was speaking another language.

Sora remembered last week, when he’d suggested that Yuya visit but hadn’t had the resolve to ask about how it went, not when Yuya had returned as exhausted as he’d been after Z-ARC. Shun had been more talkative, afterwards, for a day or two. Should Sora ask Yuya to visit again? It was difficult, going to Standard, knowing Leo Akaba was living there. It was more difficult talking to Yuya, knowing that the Lancers were providing the Professor with asylum, however little they understood what they were doing. Sora would not let the Professor ruin his friendship with Yuya and Yuzu. He had taken enough. That friendship was his lighthouse. It was the only thing keeping him from recidivating.

“People are moving on.” Shun’s voice was a flat monotone. It sounded like he thought this was the worst thing in the world.

“Recovery suits this dimension.” Sora had known, once they had lain the final brick, that Xyz would be okay. Scarred, maybe, with too many nightmares and a fear of fusion summoning, but okay. They wouldn’t hurt anyone and they would keep crawling towards the light until the people were happy, or something close to it. The mood was different to Academia’s dark cloud of violence and disputed guilt. But Shun stayed crouched in his grief, peering at their brave new world like Moses on the edge of the desert.

“People prefer familiar pain to uncertainty.” Sora continued. A counsellor had told him this, as though the axiom absolved abhorrent behaviour. “Change is scary. But recovery is worth the effort.” This line of reasoning rang hollow to Sora. Before reconstruction had concluded, Sora could say your dimension needs you and that had always roused Shun. But now, without someone to help, Shun was directionless.

“It didn’t have to change.” Shun murmured, something flashing in his eyes, looking present for a split second through his fugue. “It was fine before.”

“You can’t unbreak an egg.” Sora replied with faux cheerfulness, thinking about his childhood, thinking about those children from Standard and how he’d hated them, scorned them, been so jealous of them that he had wanted them to die. They were just kids, little kids. When he’d been their age, he’d been a soldier. “Come on Shun, don’t you have class or something?”

“No. It’s Sunday.” The spark had left Shun’s eyes. Absent, always absent. Sora wished he could kick some life into the older teen.

“I always had school on Sunday.” Sora told him instead, searching for something else to say. He was fairly certain that postwar Academia still had classes on Sunday. “What about studying?”

“You’re right. I should study.” Shun rose like a sagging marionette and took a few jerky steps away.

Yuya’s mother Yoko said that Shun was sick and that doctors were still working out his ‘treatment options’. Sora wasn’t sure he trusted doctors, but no one would talk to him about it except to tell him to be patient, to keep visiting, to give Shun time and compassion. At this point, Sora just ran a mantra of what would Yuya say through his head every time he interacted with Shun.

Sora waved goodbye. The studying was an excuse to get away from him, that much was obvious. He felt oddly jealous that Shun could walk away from Sora, something Sora could not do.

Time and time again, when it came down to where to go and what to do, Sora found himself orbiting Yuri’s memory.

Standard had Leo Akaba, which made it the least hospitable dimension. Xyz had Shun and people that remembered Sora as the person who had hurt them (he didn’t mind the fear but he hated the compassion and the pity made him want to claw his eyes out). Synchro was complicated. Very political, full of busy adults with very little time for Sora and even less patience. They were either building a revolution or preventing one; either way Sora had no place in it.

Asuka and a few other earnest students aside, the people of Academia were pretending that there had never been a war and they were not interested in listening to a child tell them otherwise. Academia was a rotting lion carcass pretending to be a lamb. The general opinion was that now Yuri was gone and the Xyz Dimension rebuilt, it was like everything had never happened.

Yuri had been 14. One year older than Sora. He was exactly what the Professor had made him, which was currently dead and formerly monstrous. Sora didn’t want to defend Yuri. When they were really little kids, they’d been friends. Sort of. He faintly recalled something about sharing snacks and maybe a game or two – it was difficult, pre-training memories were so blurry. Then the professor had taken him away and he’d come back years later, irreversibly changed, unrecognizable to himself and others. Sora had been so jealous of Yuri’s strength and cruelty, the ease with which he’d taken the lives of his former classmates. No one had been able to hurt him when he had a duel disc, not even Leo Akaba. Their petty, warmongering tyrant had feared Yuri like the rest of them.

He’s a monster. The instructors had whispered, and Sora had thought: I want to be a monster too. The next day he’d slid three copies of Edge Imp Scythe into his deck.

Young Sora had modelled himself after Yuri (while keeping a safe distance, because Yuri was terrifying and dangerous enough that you had a good chance of turning into a card just from being in his proximity). That hatred and admiration for Yuri had defined Sora’s early growth as a duelist, it was still a big part of his playstyle even in these defanged postwar duels. Without Yuri as inspiration, Sora could very well be dead. This debt was uncomfortable and Sora wanted to repay it by offering Yuri the same chance at redemption he’d gotten. But Yuri was dead and his name synonymous with murderer, soon he would probably be a campsite tale told to younger students. Sora was scared to talk to the Yuri that Yuya could see in case it wasn’t really him, since then Yuri would be gone forever.

So Sora found himself defending Yuri when the opportunity arose. Leo Akaba made him that way. The Professor had him since he was a kid. He wasn’t always like that. Sora struggled to explain it to the younger kids. He was like that because it made him safe. He was like that and they worshipped him for it so he stayed like that. He was like that and no one believed he could change so he didn’t. Sora hated himself for the excuses, but Yuri was Sora. They had been part of the same class, once. Only Sora been thawed by Yuya’s patience and friendship, while the Professor spirited Yuri away and he came back cold.

Academia made you feel incomplete. Sora couldn’t help but think that if he’d discovered that he was a fragment of a person, scattered across dimensions, he would also jump at the chance to reunite himself and make himself whole. It must have felt wonderful at first, for Yuri, to find out that there was something so clearly wrong, something he could fix to make himself better.

Sora told anyone who would listen that Yuri was a product of Academia but he meant it could have been any of us. I wasn’t Z-ARC but I was there, I was a ward of Academia too, and they could have chosen me, or Yuya could have not tried with me, and then I’d be him. We loved the monster, which is worse than being the monster.

The next time Sora visited Standard, Reiji Akaba was in Yuya’s house. His first instinct was to turn and leave, but Yuya bounded forwards and caught his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s bothering you?” Yuya asked, cheerful and oblivious.

Sora wanted to cry, or shake the hand off and run, or shout abuse. Instead he went very still and thought about reaching for his deck.

“It’s me.” Reiji Akaba said without emotion. “I’ll leave.”

“Huh? Are you two secret rivals or something?” Yuya’s tone was still too lighthearted for the heavy atmosphere. Sora knew not to underestimate Yuya’s cunning – he was lifting the mood on purpose. Trying to make this more pleasant than it really was. The gesture was so painfully Yuya that Sora felt the weight on his chest lighten. It felt good not to be alone.

“I don’t care.” Sora lied, because if people know what hurts you, they can use it to hurt you more. “Do whatever you want, Reiji. I came here to see if Yuya was safe and he seems fine. I should go check on Yuzu, too.”

“She’s in the You Show Duel School. My father is there today.” Reiji Akaba warned, emotionless as ever.

Sora froze because how was Reiji perceptive enough to understand that would be a problem? No wonder he was a CEO and had managed to lead the Lancers. Next to him, Sora felt more like a child than ever. But also-

“You’re letting Leo Akaba around children?” Sora all but shouted, his abundance of emotion throwing caution to the wind. That school had been such a ray of hope, such nice people, all of them wonderful like Asuka. He couldn’t let them get poisoned like he was, like Yuri was-

“Are you okay, Sora?” Yuya asked, concerned, his façade of cheer dropping momentarily.

Sora should have felt lucky that Yuya cared how he felt. Sora should have thanked Reiji for the warning. Sora should have calmly extricated himself from the situation. He should not have been itching for one of those lethal duel disks, or a machete, or thinking about children being hurt and hurt and hurt-

“Why don’t any of you get it?” Sora hissed, eyes stinging with angry tears. “He hurts kids. He flattened a dimension. He made children soldiers. Look what he did to Yuri. How can you just let him- like he’s done nothing wrong- like he’s not a monster-”

“My father is not a monster bu-”

“He’s worse. He’s Dr Frankenstein. He made children into monsters. He made me a monster.” Sora laughed, like peeling the bark from a log to reveal the wasp nest beneath.

Yuya moved towards Sora quickly. Sora threw himself back, trying to dodge the punch, only it wasn’t. Yuya was… holding him. An old, old sob escaped and before Sora knew it, he was bawling his eyes out. This was awful. What if someone saw him, what if they thought he was weak? But Yuya, haloed through the veil of his tears, was a radiant and nonjudgmental paragon.

“You’re not a monster, Sora.” Yuya said, holding him tightly. “No children are monsters. That’s just something adults call children to make them easier to control. You’re good.” Sora shook his head against Yuya’s shoulder. “Yes. You’re good. You survived and I’m… I’m happy you did whatever you did, because it means we can be friends now. If you hadn’t done those things, we wouldn’t have met.”

It was true. Sora took the thought with both hands, like he did anything good that dared foray into his life, and shoved it into the hole in his chest. He felt so much less empty. They stayed in an embrace for a long while. Eventually, Yuya broke it to take a teacup from Reiji. To Sora’s surprise, Reiji offered him one too.

Sora floated, light and unburdened, not quite feeling real but also feeling freer than he had since he had been a very small child.

“You’re right that my father did monstrous things and should not be allowed around children unsupervised.” Reiji said, deliberately and slowly, as though he had rehearsed this conversation. “And those things are his fault. Not yours. He was a terrible father. He left me when I was a child. I vowed revenge. And you may not be ready to hear this, but when I found him, I realized that he is human. We don’t want to lock him away. That helps no one. And the Fusion Dimension deserves a break from him. Instead, I’m making him live out his greatest fear: being a father.”

“Most people want to be a father at some point. It’s hardly a punishment.” Sora pointed out, his annoyance at Reiji grounding him momentarily.

“It is a punishment for him. Every day, he has to confront the damage he did to his family by leaving us, and every day he has to try to be a better person to atone for that.” Reiji’s mouth twisted, the first trace of emotion he’d betrayed since arriving. “When he’s better at atoning, I’ll bring him to Academia so he can make amends there too. But right now, I barely let him out of my sight. He can’t be trusted to do the right thing by himself. He’s a weak man.”

It was absolutely surreal, hearing someone talk about the Professor like he was an errant toddler. More than anything, that told Sora that things had changed.

“Okay.” That sounded… okay. He could understand that – a kind of constructive emotional torment, like rebuilding the Xyz dimension but more personal and permanent. And maybe, if that baby had a father, they would be slightly happier than they would have been otherwise. Maybe… Leo Akaba was receiving justice after all, or at least something close to it. Maybe it was better that it was focused around healing rather than hurting. There had already been so much hurting and it hadn’t done anyone any good.

“I had this made for you. Consider it reparations” Reiji Akaba handed Sora a card. Numbly, he took it. Frightfur Repair. A spell card with a graveyard effect, useful for extending combos and recycling cards from his graveyard. He could send this with Frightfur Whale to get a free summon, or even use it to bring back a Frightfur monster from the graveyard.

“This is better reparations than I expected.” Sora tried to avoid saying that he expected nothing from an Akaba. “Thank you.”

Weeks later, on his daily visit to Xyz, Sora found Shun in his usual spot. Only, there was something different about him. Threads of sunlight pierced the clouds, weaving downwards through the pale fog. With the rain and the sun, Sora hoped for a rainbow.

“You look better.” Sora blurted out. The bags around Shun’s eyes had receded and he looked like he was aware of his surroundings.

“People keep telling me that.” Shun smiled. Actually smiled. Sora wanted to cry. “Apparently this medication is good for me.”

Medication still reminded Sora uncomfortably of the labs where they’d experimented on students. He remembered the pills that made everything floating and pleasant, the ones given right before the invasion. Killing had been so easy after that, as simple as sending a card to the graveyard. But he knew, rationally, that not all medicine was like that. Asuka and Kaito took pills, too, and sometimes his counsellor asked him about if he’d consider medication and he said no without thinking, as reflexively as jerking his hand away from an open flame.

“Actually, I got you something.” Shun put his hand in his pocket and drew out a card. Sora tried to calm the heartbeat rising in his ears (people, it was people, it was his future, it was his classmates, it was him if he didn’t improve his exam score-) but he couldn’t stop himself from flinching away. Shun looked disappointed, but he kept his hand extended. “It’s a present. Because you didn’t give up on me, even when I was…” He trailed off. “You kept visiting. That helped me keep going. And because you’re too hard on yourself, kid.”

“I’m not a kid.” Sora bristled, snatching the card from Shun’s outstretched hand. It was an Xyz monster, of course, and wyrm type which caught his attention because he hadn’t seen many of those before. He read it: True King of All Calamities. It didn’t look like a good fit for his deck aesthetically nor technically. Supposedly he could summon it from two Frightfur Whales, but that seems like a poor investment of resources. He was about to tell Shun that he appreciated the gift when he read the effect.

“What. Is. This.” Sora hadn’t felt like this since he got his deck. Pure wonderment, and glee, because Yuya was not going to enjoy dueling against this. Sora cackled. “What. Why is this allowed.” This really, really shouldn’t have been allowed. “Can I keep this? Really?”

Shun laughed. “It’s all yours. I don’t know anyone else who can summon two level 9 monsters. It belonged to Yuto. I never saw him use it.”

Sora let the emotional weight of the gift settle in. He shouldn’t, not really, not after what he’d done to Yuto- but this was a lingering effect that stopped your opponent from activating monster effects on the field or attacking. It was perfect – his deck excelled at going second when you could go for the throat, but this would give him an opening move.

“It’s banned in the Xyz dimension.” Shun smiled conspiringly. “But, now, in Standard, against Yuya… well, they don’t even know it exists. It would be a shame if someone were to use it to obliterate our friends.”

“Oh, that would be just awful.” Sora agreed, still laughing, holding the strongest card he’d ever read tightly in his hands. “They wouldn’t know what hit them.”

Sora wanted to practice using his new boss monster before he took on Yuya. Dennis was his first instinct, since he was like a weaker version of Yuya, but Dennis lived in Standard now and it couldn’t be anyone in Standard because Yuya would probably hear about it. Sora would not be counterpicked. Asuka was always busy. The Synchro Dimension was still tense and, honestly, it felt like Academia had right before the invasion. Sora did not want to get caught in another war.

Edo was a good candidate, since he had decided to start pro-dueling right after finishing Xyz reconstruction instead of helping Asuka rehabilitate Academia. With everything Edo had done, Sora thought there should be more consequences, or that he shouldn’t be able to move straight on to a successful public career, but no one had the time or energy to enforce them. Sora didn’t want to confront Edo about it because it was a bad idea to start throwing stones when you lived in a glass house.

Unfortunately, Edo was apparently too busy to schedule a duel with Sora, and Sora was not going to work his way up the pro-dueling circuit just to fight Edo. The man’s ego was big enough already.

With all other choices eliminated, Sora considered Kaito. Sora hadn’t personally burned that bridge by sealing his family into cards (he’d sealed other families into cards instead, which a reasonable person would assign the same judgment to, but people were more sentimental than reasonable in Sora’s experience). Kaito was driven, which Sora respected, and if he could lure him into the Fusion Dimension then he wouldn’t be violating the Xyz forbidden list.

It turned out that Kaito was also working as a pro-duelist. Sora, holding a lollipop and dressing young, managed to pretend to be a small child wanting to meet his dueling icon. After some severe emotional manipulation of a security guard (he cried, first going for sympathetic then annoying when it didn’t work, saying it was his birthday and he wanted it to be special, then saying that he had a chronic illness and this would be his very last birthday), he gained access to Kaito’s dressing room where he waited with a shit-eating grin on his face and a badge that said ‘I’m 9 today!’

“Aren’t you going to wish me a happy birthday?” Sora asked cheerily when Kaito arrived. The older boy’s mouth gaped open.

“Is it even your birthday?” Kaito spluttered. “Wait, are you nine years old? And dying? I thought you were at least fourteen. They start you that young?”

“I’m thirteen and not dying. But a nine-year-old with a chronic illness and one last wish had a higher rate of success in this situation. I am a spy, remember?” Sora did not say that Academia started them younger than nine. “Kaito, I want to duel you.”

“Couldn’t you just send me an e-mail? Like a normal person? Or call my agent or something?” Kaito pressed his fingers against his forehead, looking bemused and more than a little annoyed. “Seriously, that security guard is worried about you. He looked like he was about to cry.”

“I’m not sending you fanmail.” Sora wrinkled his nose in distaste. “And don’t hire incompetent security guards if you don’t want people breaking into your dressing room. Anyway, you should duel me. I’ll destroy you.”

“I don’t really have time for… this.” Kaito gestured towards Sora and his little sailor suit.

“Yes you do. I’ll read you this letter from Shun.” Sora smiled. There was nothing more rewarding than being annoying and getting away unscathed. “Dear Asshat, thanks for not visiting me during my recovery. I think you should duel Sora, because he will absolutely annihilate you with his badass stuffed animals. Sincerely, Shun.”

Kaito snatched the letter from Sora’s hand and read it himself. Sora had paraphrased the letter a little. Okay, a lot. Shun had been more sincere and forgiving, the whole thing had been an excessive show of emotion harking back to their resistance days. Then, tacked on the end, Sora had persuaded Shun to add that he thought Kaito should consider dueling Sora. Normally, he’d be worried that wasn’t persuasive enough. But since Shun’s depression, everyone gave him whatever he wanted so Sora wasn’t too worried. Maybe next time he needed to get past a guard he should say he had depression. It seemed to make people very nice to you.

“…Fine. I’ll duel you.” Kaito sighed. “I suppose we can do it now, outside. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Nope. If you want to duel me so much, you can do it in the Fusion Dimension. I want the home turf advantage.”

“I don’t want to- Wait, what? The… home turf advantage? In Duel monsters? The card game?”

“Yes.” Sora agreed seriously, like this was a real thing and not because his deck was illegal to play in the Xyz Dimension because they understood the power of the True King of All Calamities. “The home turf advantage.”

“That’s not even- Fine. Alright.” Kaito decided that it was not worth arguing with the devious child in front of him. He was right not to – Sora always won. “I guess I can visit Saturday. It might be nice to see Edo.”

“Edo is probably too busy to see you, you know he’s a big pro-duelist now.”

“I’m- I’m a big pro duelist now!” Kaito insisted, flabbergasted by Sora’s boldness.

“Whatever you say, buddy.” Sora winked at Kaito condescendingly, grinning all the while. He hadn’t had this much fun in weeks. “See you Saturday at Academia.”

The game had been over the moment Sora won the coin flip. Sora’s counselor would love to take credit for Sora’s recent good mood, but he thought it was mostly the True King of All Calamities. Free Duel Monsters cards were more fun than therapy. Although the counselling was helping. It was nice understanding that he felt things for a reason, not because he was just evil.

“I fusion summon Frightfur Cruel Whale!” Sora shouted, sending out his second Frightfur Whale. The hologram was an appealing purple, an adorable plush orca with teeth and blades peeking out. Sora loved his deck. It fitted him perfectly. He saw himself as the innocent Fluffal you let into your home fused with the dangerous Edge Imp that killed you in your sleep, a perfect balance of faux-innocence and horror incarnate.

“Another Frightfur Whale?” Edo laughed. “What are you going to do, destroy your first one? There’s nothing else on your field to destroy, and my field is empty!”

“No, that effect is optional, which means I can choose not to activate it. And now, with both Frightfur Cruel Whales, I Xyz summon a monster! Rise Rank 9, True King of All Calamities!”

Kaito’s mouth gaped open like a fish. “That card is banned.”

“Not in this dimension!” Sora’s face twisted like it had when he’d revealed his true nature to Yuya. Only, now there was no malice behind it. Glee, yes, but playful glee, no violence. It felt so much better. “I end my turn!”

Without monster effects, Kaito couldn’t summon a Galaxy-Eyes Cipher Dragon. It still wasn’t an easy duel to win – during Sora’s next battle phase, Kaito activated Cipher Chain to land some burn damage. His spells and traps were disruptive enough that Sora could only land the fatal blow on turn five. But land it he did.

Kaito left, muttering about cheating, how Xyz monsters were clearly the best extra deck type, how they should implement cross-dimension banlists, and annoying demon former child soldiers with lollipops and no respect for their elders.

Sora glowed, full of pride and triumph. Yuya was next.

Next time Sora knocked on Yuya’s door, Sakaki Yoko opened it. She invited him in and presented him with a large plate of food. She stared at him intensely, as though analyzing him, which made Sora uncomfortable. But Sora knew to take food when it was available, and it was her house so he could hardly complain about her behaviour.

“You’re a fine young man, Sora.” Yoko told him, heaping more food on Sora’s plate. “You need food to grow.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Sora tried not to talk with his mouth full, mindful of his manners. He didn’t really understand why she cared about him. Regardless, he soaked up her warmth like an attentive flower. Family was complicated, maybe you’d get Leo Akaba, but maybe you’d get Yoko, who did all of Yuya’s laundry and gave him hugs. Sora wanted a family, distantly, urgently, painfully aware that although he would do anything to attain one, he never would. You didn’t just get a family when you were his age. It was like a lottery, some people got them, most didn’t.

“Please, call me Yoko.” She waved her hand, her eyes not leaving Sora’s. “Now, I’m glad you visited. Really, I am. I need to ask you about your living arrangements.”

“Uh.” Sora wasn’t sure why she was asking. Alarm bells rang in his head. But Yuya loved her, didn’t he? Sora could trust Yuya’s judgement. “I’m staying in Academia at the moment. Asuka gave me a…” He tried to remember the word she had used. “… a stipend.”

“Hm, that’s good.” Her smile was strained.  “So, who’s looking after you? And why aren’t you in school?”

What a strange question. Why would anyone go to classes if they didn’t have to? He settled for an answer he thought she’d accept: “I graduated early.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. There was nothing the instructors in Academia could teach him.

“So, you look after yourself?” Sora nodded and a small crease appeared between Yoko’s eyebrows. “That’s very mature of you, at your age. I’m sure Yuya has learned a lot from watching you. If you don’t mind me asking, without school what do you do most days?”

“I don’t mind.” Sora had this urge to be liked by Yoko. It wasn’t just the convenience for seeing Yuya, it was like with his instructors. He wanted her to be… proud of him. When she said nice things it felt like they meant something, that maybe they weren’t lies. “Uh. I do… things. I go and see people, help out where I can.” He remembered Asuka telling him to fly a kite. He hadn’t done that yet. It was an odd request. “I dueled Kaito the other day, and I’ve been checking in with Shun while he’s recovering.”

“It sounds like you’re doing a good job of keeping busy.” Only Yoko could sound so warm. “I know that you grew up in Academia and that the war changed a lot of things, but did you know that here in Standard it’s considered unusual for a child of your age to be wandering around with no guardian?” Sora’s eyes widened. He did not want another handler. Yoko noticed and her features softened even further. “Sora, what do you think guardians do?”

“Guardians make sure you don’t break any rules. They make you stronger.” Sora told her. Guardians hurt you for your own good was the kind of truth that people found alarming outside of Academia. He felt, strangely, that his honesty in this conversation was important. “And they make sure you do well in school.”

Yoko nodded. “That’s mostly true. But Guardians are also supposed to keep their charges safe. For example, you know how Yuya’s scared of spiders? Well, if he was scared of a spider in his room, I would remove it for him so he doesn’t have to be scared anymore.” Sora’s guardians would have probably carded him for the weakness, or at least subjected him to some kind of discipline. Probably spider-related. Well, that explained why Yuya still had such silly phobias – his mother was coddling him. “Guardians are also supposed to provide for their charges, like how I make sure Yuya has food and somewhere nice to live. It’s a very serious responsibility. When Yuya went on his adventure, I failed as a guardian because I didn’t protect him.”

“But, Yuya was Z-ARC. The danger was always going to come to him.” Sora felt that Yoko, of all people, did not deserve to feel guilty. She was one of the kindest people he knew, like Asuka, or Yuzu. “Anyway, he was fourteen.”

“Thank you, Sora. But fourteen is still very young to be in mortal danger.” Yoko paused and considered something for a moment. “No guardian is perfect, we can’t protect our children all the time. But the idea of a guardian is that we protect our children. I get the impression that maybe you didn’t have someone like that in your life, is that true?”

“Some people gave me food even when they didn’t have to. And they didn’t make me fight with real stakes until I was old enough. Nine, at least.” Sora said eventually. That was the closest thing he’d experienced to her definition of guardianship.

“Listen, Sora. It’s not your fault you didn’t have a guardian and it doesn’t reflect on you. Lots of people don’t have guardians. But seeing you out there looking after yourself… you’re very capable, but I worry about you. Not because I think you can’t take care of yourself, but because I don’t think you should have to take care of yourself.” Sora had stopped eating. Yoko gently took his hand. “So, I’m offering to adopt you. You can take as long to think about it as you want. If you say no, you can always change your mind, because I will keep a room here for you, okay? And if I was your guardian, I would treat you the same as I treat Yuya.”

Sora’s jaw dropped. He stopped breathing. This was… more than he’d ever thought he’d get. And she didn’t… want anything from him? Just to… look after him… like Yuya… It was monumental. Yoko didn’t lie, wouldn’t lie to him just to pull the rug out from under him. Suddenly, all Yoko’s concerned glances fell into place. He searched for the catch, the reason this would fall apart, because if he believed this and lost it then it would destroy him utterly.

“Would Yuya be okay with that?” Sora gasped.

“Yes. I think he said it would be like ‘the best sleepover ever all night every night.’” Yoko laughed.

“And I could still duel? And go wherever I want? And not duel if I wanted?”

“You can do whatever you want. You’re an exceptionally responsible individual. But, if you wanted, you could also think about joining Yuzu and Yuya’s school. They learn about things other than Duel Monsters there. You might find it interesting.” School. Sora didn’t want to go to school. His fear must have shown on his face, because Yoko quickly continued. “Of course, we can talk about that later. If you don’t want to do it then you don’t have to, I understand based on your experiences with other schools. I would just feel so much better if you just had a safer place to stay and someone looking out for you.”

“What about Leo Akaba?” It was the last obstacle Sora could think of. “I don’t want to be near him ever again. I know he’s around here.”

“I don’t let that man in the house.” For a moment, Sora felt the icy intensity of Yoko’s days as a bike gang leader. Her resolution was rock solid, her reply given without forethought. Sora knew that he could trust her on this, and also that her response had very little to do with him. “I’ll talk to Reiji about keeping him away from the You Show Duel School too. For that matter, my husband is also not permitted in this house. You shouldn’t have to deal with either of them.”

“What did Yusho do?” Sora quite liked Yusho. Asuka spoke very highly of him.

“It’s complicated.” Yoko was tired, suddenly. Sora regretted asking the question. “But, for one thing telling Yuya to laugh all his problems away wasn’t helpful. The boy is always hiding his negative emotions instead of asking for help. Yusho also worked with Leo Akaba, you know. And, well, he left us. If you ever get a family, Sora, don’t leave them for a decade without a word of goodbye and come back expecting everything to be the same. Family shouldn’t treat each other like that.”

That was perfectly reasonable. Sora hadn’t thought about it like that before. He nodded in agreement, thinking that he had a lot to learn about family.

“I want to stay with you.” He blurted artlessly the second he realized Yoko was still waiting for an answer. “Of course. If that’s okay.”

Sora wanted this more than air. This was more than a shot at redemption. It was an offer of sanctuary, of love. It was more than he had even fantasized about. The hope was more than he could hold. It spilled from his hands, cascading down his body, cocooning him like a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Maybe he could have this. Maybe he could have a home.

Not even in his wildest dreams had Sora thought he could be normal, to have breakfast with Yuya and sleep in a house with a handful of people who loved him that he loved in return.

“It’s more than okay. It’s wonderful.” Yoko smiled at him, wider than he’d ever seen her grin before. “Your room’s upstairs, the one with the green door. Yuya can help you bring your stuff there when he gets back from school.”

This was everything. Sora felt like he was at the epicenter of an earthquake as the world shifted into a kinder shape all around him.

Sora couldn’t say thank you because his voice would crack. He ran upstairs before Yoko could see his tears – he didn’t want her to think he was ungrateful for such a wonderful gift. His room was easy to find. It was like Yuya’s, beautiful, full of possibility. Sora lay down on the bed and fished his spare copy of Frightfur Santury out of his pocket, placing it on the bedside table like a talisman.

He lay there, letting it sink in, happy tears soaking into his very own pillow.

“I’m so glad you agreed to stay!” Yuya shouted, swinging his schoolbag on the table, knocking over some books already stacked there. Sora immediately picked them back up and put them back in a neat pile. He wanted Yoko to never regret her decision. “We’re gonna be like brothers! I’ll make you pendulum summon yet!”

“You won’t regret this.” Even after having the whole afternoon to compose himself, Sora was still close to tears. This house was so gentle, so good. He was so lucky that they shared it with him.

“Yeah, obviously!” Yuya swung an arm over Sora’s shoulders. “We can duel all night! I’ll never sleep again!”

“You still have a bedtime.” Yoko shouted from the kitchen. She was cooking. Sora vowed to help her prepare the next meal. He was going to be very, very good. Perfect. And maybe put some sugar in it while Yoko wasn’t looking. Quite a lot, probably. Chocolate went with everything, right?

“Bedtimes are important and we will always respect them.” Yuya gave Sora an exaggerated wink and he couldn’t help but giggle.

“I don’t have a bedtime.” Sora teased.

“What? No way. Mom? Is that true?”

“Yes, because unlike you Sora is a very responsible young man who understands that the human body needs sleep.”

Sora batted his eyelashes. Yuya rolled his eyes and muttered something about cuteness power and Sora being younger.

It was then that Sora remembered why he’d visited today.

“Hey, we should celebrate our new living situation with a very public duel. With all of our friends.” This was the perfect cover to obliterate Yuya with the True King of All Calamities and establish himself as the best duelist in the house. Yoko didn’t seem to care about things like that, but in Sora’s experience people valued you based on your dueling ability and he didn’t want to take any chances. “One of those entertainment duels. It’ll be fun.” It would be fun. For Sora.

“Okay, sure.” Yuya agreed. “We can do it at the school, like an exhibition for the students! I’ll invite everyone.” He looked at Sora suspiciously. “Why are you grinning like that?”

“No reason.” Sora’s answering smile was sharp enough to cut glass. This was going to be great.

The day of the exhibition duel, the sun shone brightly in Standard.

Almost everyone came to the duel. Kaito and Shun wore knowing smirks. Sora was glad the former hadn’t taken his loss too hard or, apparently, spoken to anyone about it. Asuka couldn’t make it, but she’d been so unsurprised to hear about Sora’s new living arrangements that he thought she might have been partially responsible for them, which was the best gift she could have given him. Even Reiji showed up, carrying a giggling baby.

“Reira never stops laughing.” Reiji deadpanned, looking absolutely exhausted. “I blame Yuya. He’s too much fun. Good luck in your duel.”

Soon after moving his stuff into Yoko’s house, Sora had come up with an idea. If Yusho wasn’t particularly welcome with his family, he should go help Asuka. She definitely needed the help, and whatever Yusho’s flaws he was very good with children. Sora had easily tracked down Yusho, who was living in a surprisingly run-down apartment and did not appear to be taking good care of himself. The older man had perked up when Sora said he was needed. He was over in Academia now, helping Asuka manage the remaining students and, most importantly, helping her replace the instructors who had served as generals in Leo Akaba’s army.

It was a wonderfully neat ending. Sora felt no guilt from leaving Academia now – he’d helped them in his own way. Academia would have justice, in its own way, and a bright future like his own. He would still visit. Sora had a vague plan for some kind of memorial for Serena, maybe another for Yuri. It would heal Academia to confront itself and its history.

“Sora!” Yuzu called, breaking through Sora’s reverie. “Over here! I have something for you, before you go up against Yuya.”

He jogged over. Her hair glowed peach in the sunlight. It framed her smile beautifully. One of the best things about living in Standard was being able to see Yuzu so much. He had more to teach her about fusion. One of these days, he’d probably sign up for their school just to spend more time with both of them. But not yet.

“This is for you.” She handed him three copies of the same card. A playset.

“Thanks, Yuzu. Everyone is giving me cards these days.” Sora smiled widely. “It’s strange.”

“Well, this one’s a Fluffal, so it belongs with you.”

“Where did you even get these?” He looked closer at the cards. Fluffal Penguin. Special summon another Fluffal? Draw two cards when it was fused away? This would be one of the best cards in his deck. “I thought I had them all.”

“Well, Yuya told me that Reiji made you that one with the big scary guys. But I thought, hey, what about your loveable side! I don’t want your deck getting too dark.” She grinned at him. “So I conspired with Yoko to make your deck cuter.” Well, Yoko was obsessed with cuteness, even if she refrained from calling Sora cute to his face these days. “I offered to babysat Reira for a few weeks if Reiji made you a cute card for your archetype. At first he was like ‘oh no, I can’t just print anything I want for just for my friends’, so I was like ‘but you’re always making yourself cards’, and then he was like ‘but I already made Sora a card.’ But then Yuya kept entertaining Reira and that baby would not stop giggling. Seriously. I don’t think either of them slept for like a week. He caved after that.”

“You are devious, Yuzu. And a very good friend.” Sora loved Yuzu so much it hurt. “I have a lot to learn from you about getting things from people.”

Yuzu winked. “Good luck against Yuya! He’s gotten pretty insufferable recently, I think a loss would do him some good.”

“I will help him lose to build character.” Sora agreed.

In the distance, Yuya called to him. He smiled again at Yuzu before turning and walking to his position.

“Can I go first?” Sora asked innocently, toeing the ground with the tip of his shoe. “Since you’ve won all those tournaments and I’m new here and all.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sora grinned wickedly. This would be fun.