Honda's Ghost Part 6

When I woke for the third morning with bruised knuckles I started to wonder what Honda was getting up to.

I had accepted the various aches and pains the mornings after training, rather glad that Honda had thrown himself into it full heartedly. While I would have managed, I doubt Honda was learning a style that would compliment me.

Training injuries were acceptable. Flexing my hands, I was starting to think these were not training injuries, but something else.

I had avoided treading on Honda’s memories of his evenings, and I was reluctant to do so now.

It was a matter of trust.

If I wanted him to trust me, I had to show I trusted him.

I didn’t know what to do. I was pretty sure he wasn’t getting into fights, certain that I could not remain sleeping through the adrenaline.

It came down to the letters again, irritation flared. I could pour my heart into those letters and the response was always short and to the point, and left me feeling empty and angry.

I had to keep reminding myself that he was a teenage boy, they weren’t known for their communication skills.

I had to keep reminding myself that he didn’t mean to hurt me.

I had to keep reminding myself that if I wanted to do any good, I had to have the boy on my side.

It rarely helped, and my letters to Honda had grown erratic. I still made notes in his exercise books, but we rarely communicated beyond that.

I took a painkiller, wondered if there was a better way of talking to Honda, and felt flustered over the thought of recording my voice.

No guarantee he would listen to that either.

Talking to Honda was gaining importance, I needed to have his input. I couldn’t do this on my own.

Or I could but it would be so much more difficult.

Jonouchi joined me at our usual meeting point, and I felt another flare of irritation.

Today was going to be one of those days.

Then I noticed Jonouchi had a plaster on his face. I blinked at it, smirking just a little. Boy, was that going to hurt when it came off.

“What?” He asked, and I thumbed my cheek, Jonouchi grimaced.

“Well they’ll know better than to mess with us next time.” Jonouchi muttered.

I shook my head lightly. “Don’t know why you bothered.”

“Hey!” Jonouchi objected, “I’m not going to let one of my best mates get into a fight without me,” Jonouchi tossed me a look, “Even if he has been acting strange lately.”

I smiled at him fondly, “I meant the plaster you idiot.”

Jonouchi scowled and rubbed at it. “They never should have touched me.”

I raised an eyebrow, disbelieving.

“Stupid pretty boys, don’t have a clue in a real fight...” Jonouchi muttered.

I almost laughed. Wondered if I should share a piece of wisdom. I poked him in the side, “The best swords-master doesn’t fear the second best, but the worse.” I frowned at the words, they sounded awkward, but I let them lie.

“And what does that mean?” Jonouchi objected.

I rolled my eyes, “A excellent fighter is trained, every move is planned. The worse might just get a lucky hit it, and kill you without meaning to.”

Jonouchi rubbed his head, “Nah, that’s not right, if you’re thinking ahead too much, if you’re thinking, you’re not acting.”

I glanced sideways, “Ever seen two old masters go at it? It’s like a dance, each action and reaction and counter reaction carefully balanced.”

Jonouchi fell silent at that, thinking I suppose. Or it might have been too early for such thoughts.

I winched, remembering I was meant to stop this sort of thing with Jonouchi.

It wasn’t possible. I didn’t even realise I was doing it until it was over, or until Honda was pointing it out again.

I thought too much.

I needed someone to talk to.

Jonouchi was there, and interesting, and...

“Yeah... maybe.” Jonouchi said as we reached the school gates.

Far too easy to talk to.

He scanned the grounds, and perked up when he saw Yugi.

He went to move, and paused, throwing a look back at me. “Coming?”

I shrugged, tossed him a smile, “Later.”

He was thinking again. I couldn’t tell what was going on behind those brown eyes of his, but Honda had better fess up soon, or Jonouchi was going to... I honestly didn’t know. He seemed to know something or guessed at it.

He punched me, friendly like, “Yeah, later.”

I scanned the grounds for familiar faces.

There

Now why was Honda so focused on that girl?

I slid through the crowd, approaching slowly and in a roundabout manner.

She was giggling with her friends, talking about a Prophet. I blinked. That was not what I expected to hear.

Honda stirred, and I felt a flash of anger. Confused, I slid control over, and Honda backed away from the girls, slipping into the building and making his way to class.

He sat down and scribbled on a piece of paper.

Stay away from Ribbon.

He glared at the words, before tearing it up into little pieces and dumping them in the bin.

Right... stay away from ribbons? Why did Honda even think... was that a code? I know I was a girl, but he didn’t really think I wanted to wear ribbons, right?

I faded into the background as class started, confused beyond measure.

Irritated at a matter I had no information or control over, I dismissed the thought and started considering my plans again.

I needed a way of talking to the Spirit of the Puzzle before he found out I was here and attacked me.

Couldn’t talk to Jonouchi until Honda had, couldn’t inform Yugi in case the Spirit saw that as a attack, didn’t know Anzu well enough, Kaiba wasn’t an option.

Then there was the problem of what would I say?

He had hurt people, maybe even killed people.

Was this truly the Spirit I thought it was?

I knew Shadow Games were bad news but...

The roads lay out before me, and much as I wished to, I couldn’t hide forever.