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The Rush Duel was over.
But the storm it had unearthed was not.
Smoke and silence hung heavy in the air as Yuhi Ohdo stepped forward, each footfall echoing across the fractured arena floor. Before him lay Kaidul—still occupying Yudias Velgear’s body—sprawled on the ground, staring blankly at the ceiling as if the world had already left him behind.
Yuhi stopped at his side.
“You know,” he began quietly, voice steady but threaded with something deeper, “Yudias was doing his best to think of something while we were all desperately trying to take you down.”
Kaidul stirred, trying to sit up the moment Yuhi drew near. His expression was blank—but not empty. Something trembled beneath it.
“He was trying to find a way to understand you,” Yuhi continued.
Silence.
“With that, he must’ve gone to touch a much deeper part of your heart.”
“My heart?!” Kaidul shot up to his feet, fury snapping through him like a whip. “I don’t have such a thing!”
Yuhi tilted his head, unconvinced. “Really?”
A faint melody began to rise in the background—Hontou no Omoi. The same song that had once accompanied Yuhi’s own collapse into himself. The same song that had witnessed his worst nights.
Yuhi let out a quiet, almost self-mocking breath.
“Then why are you crying right now?”
Kaidul froze.
His hand rose slowly, almost against his will, brushing beneath his eye. A thin stream of tears slid across his fingers.
He gasped sharply—anger, confusion, agony all twisting together. “Why… Why am I…”
The tears wouldn’t stop.
Above, in the stands, Yuamu Ohdo and Phaser Ryugu stared down in stunned silence. Asaka Mutsuba’s lips parted, her eyes softening with a painful understanding. Zwijo Zir Velgear watched with firm, knowing resolve.
Elsewhere in the stands, Yuna Goha gripped the railing, worry written plainly across her face. Mitsuko Hiramori looked stricken. Teru tried to look bored—though tears betrayed him. Nyandestar blinked in surprise. Rovian Kirishima stood focused, determined—her gaze mirroring Yuhi’s own.
Yuhi’s eyes never left Kaidul.
“What made you decide to do this?” Yuhi demanded, voice sharpening. “Why are you trying to turn everyone into game pieces?”
He didn’t voice the other question burning in his chest—of how he, Yuhi, alone had resisted possession. Because, in some ways, he already knew that answer.
Instead, he pressed further.
“Is it because you were born a Karutamata?”
Even as he said it, he knew.
A faint, sad smile curved across Yuhi’s lips.
“It can’t be that simple, can it?”
Yuhi understood sealed hearts. Understood running. Was intimately close with the fear that was so deep it hollowed you out.
For two years he had shut himself away—locked in his room, pushing away everyone who loved him. He had abandoned dueling. Avoided Yudias. Pretended he didn’t care.
And yet every night, he had clutched the Varivelgear and cried himself to sleep, wishing he could undo the past. Wishing he’d been strong enough to save Yuga. Strong enough to stand beside Yudias. Strong enough not to break.
Even after Tremolo. Even after being turned into a card. Even after becoming a cat. Even after entering the Galaxy Cup.
The loneliness and insecurity had lingered.
Maybe it always would.
But now—
Now he would fight.
For Damamu. For Yuga. For Yuamu. For Rovian. For Manabu. For Yudias.
For himself.
He was not that helpless child anymore.
He had won. Kaidul would never possess anybody ever again, and would soon leave Yudias.
For now…Kaidul trembled, tears falling harder. Slowly, he lowered his hands from his face.
“That is… because…”
His head dropped.
“I sealed it!” he screamed into the air.
Yuhi’s bitter chuckle escaped him before he could stop it. There we go.
“I sealed my heart away!”
A sad smile returned to Yuhi’s face. Across the arena, Rovian met his eyes. They understood.
“I won’t, again—”
Kaidul’s voice faltered.
He lifted his head toward the sunset filtering through the broken ceiling. The entire room seemed to hold its breath.
“Right… This was the last of my memories… I watched it leave…”
His voice dropped to a whisper.
“That ship without a Master.”
Gasps rippled through the stands.
“What?!” Yuhi blurted.
Suddenly, Kaidul reached forward, arm outstretched—lost, yet strangely resolute. Yuhi felt it instantly.
Yudias was fighting back.
It was time.
“You’ve lost, Kaidul,” Yuhi said firmly. “Return that body.”
But Kaidul remained frozen, staring upward.
“Hey!”
Before Yuhi could step forward again—
“Epo-po!”
A spinning blur dropped from above.
Epoch descended in her ridiculous cardboard box, trumpet attached, flipping wildly through the air.
“Hurry up and give that body back to Yudias now!” she shouted.
She thrust out her hand.
“You fossilized Velgearian!”
Her palm struck Kaidul’s chest.
The world exploded.
Vibrations roared. Lightning cracked through the chamber. Shockwaves ripped across the walls. Yuhi barely managed to shield his head as energy swallowed everything in blinding white.
Kaidul cried out—
And then—
Silence.
The lightning faded.
Epoch slumped inside her crumpled box, letting out a drained whine.
Yuhi slowly lowered his arms.
On the floor lay a figure with a familiar hair color.
Not gold.
Light blue.
“Ah!” Relief tore from Yuhi’s throat.
Yudias was back.
Tears blurred Yuhi’s vision as he exchanged looks with the others above. They were all smiling now—shaken, exhausted, but smiling.
“Yudias!” Epoch cried, her face finally visible through a hole blasted in the box as she flung herself onto him.
Yudias stirred.
“Huh… Epoch…?”
She froze.
“Epo!?”
Realization struck her like lightning.
“I-I wasn’t worried about my idiot family tutor at all, idiot!” she protested, scrambling away and hiding on all fours.
Yuhi snorted despite himself.
Of course she wasn’t.
He then walked over, stopping beside Yudias, who was staring at Epoch in bewilderment before turning slowly toward him.
“Yuhi…?”
Yuhi’s smile softened as Yudias questioned, “The, the rush duel?”
“It’s over,” Yuhi said gravely, glancing away for dramatic effect. From the stands came several amused looks and snickers.
Yudias lowered his gaze, crestfallen.
Yuhi sighed inwardly—then smirked.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Huh?”
Yuhi closed his eyes, raised a fist high into the air, grinned brightly, and shouted with everything he had:
“I won!”
The words rang like a declaration of existence.
He had won the duel.
He had won the Galaxy Cup.
He had saved the others and Yudias.
He had saved himself.
Yudias beamed. “Of course, for you are my teacher!”
Yuhi laughed, extending a hand.
Yudias took it, rising to his feet. They shook hands—
“The winner of the Galaxy Cup is…” Damamu announced.
“Ohdo Yuhi, everyone!”
The arena erupted.
Yudias pulled him into yet another crushing embrace, and this time Yuhi didn’t resist. He let himself laugh. Let himself breathe.
He had done it.
Not just the tournament.
Not just the rescue.
He had proven—to everyone, and to himself—that he wasn’t some helpless elementary schooler anymore.
He had become his own hero.
And for the first time in a long, long while—
His heart felt unsealed.