A/N: There has been a few slight changes to the prologue, but nothing too pronounced. It's just some wording that I wanted to change. Every chapter from here on out will have a title, something that I usually don't do. However, I felt it was necessary due to each chapter I write having a song that I listen to when I wrote it. The titles will either be the song itself or a lyric from the song.

Chapter 1: Begins a New Beginning, Never Finds a Finish

Two years later…

Crack! Crack! Crack! The whip formed a steady rhythm as it slammed against his back, drawing red blood. Curling up into as tight of a ball as he could, the child exposed his skin further to the leather of the whip. He knew that it was either he took a heavier beating on his back or suffered fiercer wounds on more vulnerable parts of his body. It was bad enough to always have the steady ache of hunger filling his stomach without the pain of cuts and scars.

Suddenly, the beating stopped, but the child refused to raise his head. He gripped the back of his head hard to keep himself from shuddering. If his torturer saw any sort of weakness or pain, the beating would start again.

The child was a redhead, his hair hanging down just below his shoulders. It was uncontrollable and thick, large strands of it sticking out in all directions. His bangs were a bright blond and as wild as the rest of his hair. He was pale, though not necessarily from a lack of sunlight. His body was marred with old scars and bruises as well as the new ones and his dark eyes were dead. Dirt was streaked across his face and shredded clothes, which hung loosely from his skeletal frame.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and threw him onto his bloodied back, making him wince. Dread grew in his chest as he gazed up at the dark figure that stood over him. Kneeling, the figure locked his legs down with it's own, leaning over the child's body. The whip had been cast aside and his torturer now held a long knife. A hand shot out to grip the boy's chin, forcing him to meet the figure's gaze.

"Don't forget me, child. Don't forget these scars I've given you. Always remember what you are: a piece of shit that was born in a gutter from a piece of shit and some bastard father who's name you don't even know. If you forget, well, I may be back," the figure sneered. "And you wouldn't want that, would you?"

The child wildly shook his head and the figure released his chin, allowing the child to rest his head back on the carpet floor. The figure sat down on its heels for a moment, eyeing the boy before it's hands shot out, grabbing his wrists. Eyes widening with fear, the boy squirmed in an attempt to get away, but the figure's grip was strong. Holding both of the boy's thin wrists with one hand, the figure slammed them down on the floor as it raised the knife it it's other hand.

"Stop! Please stop!" the boy shouted as he started to cry.

As the knife cut into the skin between two of his ribs, cutting from his stomach down and around to his back, the boy let out a loud scream.

Yugi's eyes flew open as he awoke himself from the nightmare. He glanced around wildly, his breath coming in soft pants. Recognizing the dark outlines of the furniture of his bedroom, the small teenager relaxed into the mattress, his head falling back to the pillow. The clock beside his bed read 2:00 am. He covered his eyes with his hand as his breath started to settle into its normal pace.

Quickly getting out bed, Yugi threw on a pair of leather pants and a black sleeveless shirt that he found on the floor. He knew that there was no way for him to get back to sleep now so he set about finding something to do. Slipping out of his bedroom, he made his way down the hall towards the living room. The hall was dark and silent, but could easily make out furniture and the like from the harsh light that was thrown across the floor from the neon signs across the street.

He slowed as he passed a small mirror that hung on the wall and stopped when he was just past it. Turning back, he stood in front of the mirror. There were heavy bags under his eyes, but he ignored them, having gotten used to the look. Lifting his chin a little, he examined the thin bandage that was wrapped around his neck. He ran his fingers over it, sighing softly.

'Why are they back? He said they would stop forever,' he thought sadly.

Speeding back to his bedroom, Yugi quietly closed the door and made his way over to his desk. He stared down at the leather strap that sat at the edge, waiting for him. Taking it in his hands, he lifted it up to read the carving on the inside: Saimei Muto. Without a second thought, he quickly wrapped it around his neck and belted it, covering the bandage. When he was satisfied, he left the room again, closing the door behind him.

In the living room, Yugi found his grandfather's collection of texts on the subject of Napoleon's rise to power in France. Sitting down on the couch, he opened the book to the page that he'd marked the night before.

"Yugi?"

The small teenager spun around to see Yami standing in the doorway, dressed in only cotton pants. He was wiping sleep out of his eyes, a heavy frown settled on his face.

"What are you doing?" the Pharaoh asked.

"Just reading," Yugi replied, almost squeaking.

"At two a.m.?"

Yugi shrugged.

"I couldn't sleep," he said.

"Well alright then. I'm going back to bed. Tomorrow, or rather today, will be a big day."

"Do you think Kaiba will go after us?"

"There's no doubt in my mind."

"Don't hold it against him so much. He's not all bad."

Yami sighed and nodded to please Yugi, turning away from his smaller counterpart.

"Good night."

"Night."

Yugi looked back down at his book, but didn't start to read until he heard the door to Yami's bedroom close. Letting out the breath he'd been holding, Yugi scanned the page. He mouthed the words to himself in Arabic, easily translating the originally Japanese text.

Excitement filled the air as a crowd gathered in Domino City's main square. People of all kinds, tourists, students, the elderly, passersby, talked amongst themselves, throwing glances at the row of people lined up in front of the stage at one side of the plaza. A line of barricades was all that separated the crowd from the duelists that stood waiting, most of them slightly annoyed.

"Where the hell is dat bastard?" Joey muttered, arms crossed over his chest.

"Kaiba likes to make an entrance. He'll be here eventually," Yami replied from where he stood next to Joey.

Yugi glanced up at the Pharaoh, studying the peculiar look on his face. Despite Yami having magically acquired his own body a few months earlier, Yugi still found it very easy to read his moods. The small teenager knew fully well how much Yami disliked Seto Kaiba and that his absolute abhorrence for the man came out in the most controlled way the Pharaoh could possible achieve: the 'Kaiba mood'. It was comprised of a scowl that looked halfway between anger and indifference and it only made an appearance whenever the tall brunette was around or mentioned.

"I just want to get on with dis," Joey hissed, practically gritting his teeth.

Cameras were flashing all around them as reporters took pictures of the line of duelists. Yugi shifted uncomfortably as one of them turned to look at him. Feeling a light tap on his arm, the teenager glanced up to see Yami looking at him, a small frown masking his face. Giving his friend a small shrug and a smile, Yugi turned to face forward again.

'Don't think about it. They'll never know. They can take as many pictures as they want and they'll never know. No one will,' he thought as more cameras flashes and snapped.

Yami stared down at Yugi for a moment longer, but quickly looked away. He knew better than to read the teenager's thoughts, having established the rule when Yugi had first become aware of his existence. They may have shared a body, but Yugi was still entitled to some amount of privacy.

"This is getting a lot of media attention," Marik said from Yugi's other side.

The blond Egyptian fidgeted slightly as his gaze swept over the crowd.

"Of course it is. Last year's tournament was one of the best tourist attractions for the city in years. This year, it's gonna just get bigger, especially with this level of skill present. Seems that Kaiba only invited the best back," Yami muttered.

"I'm somewhat surprised at the former Ghouls are here, though," Marik replied, motioning to his former puppets that stood at the far end of the line.

"It only makes the competition tougher and the prize all the more rewarding," Joey laughed.

Yugi said nothing. He clasped his hands behind his back and took a deep breath to calm himself. He didn't think that he'd ever get used to the immense media coverage that had hounded Yami and him ever since their decisive win at Duelist Kingdom. The cameras made him nervous and the questions of the shouting reporters didn't help. He almost never made any sort of comment, preferring to get away from them as soon as possible.

Suddenly, the attention of the reporters and the crowd was diverted away from the line of duelists, focusing on the man that was approaching the stage with two bodyguards at his heels. Seto Kaiba looked just as angry and harsh as ever, his designer shoes clacking loudly on the stone sidewalk. His silver eyes were narrowed into a fierce glare as to walked up onto the stage and stood behind the podium.

None of the duelists that were assembled just in front of the stage turned to look at him. In fact, Yugi closed his eyes, letting his chin fall downwards a bit as Seto started to talk.

"Today signals the start of the second Battle City Tournament. Last year, this tournament gained world-wide attention for the power and skill of those who participated and, this year, we hope to repeat that performance."

Yugi smiled a little, hearing the very apparent sarcasm in the CEO's voice.

"Now, the rules will be the same as last year, but I shall repeat them for good measure. Every duelist starts off with one chip that is part of a larger map to the location where the final rounds will held. At the start of each duel, both duelists put up their chip and a card as tribute. If they lose, both the chip and card are given to the winner. When a map is complete, then that duelist is allowed to participate in the finals. May the best duelist win."

With these final word, Seto threw an angry glare at the Yugi and Yami's backs, eyes narrowing further. Both Yugi and Yami ignored the look, although Yami returned it when Seto left the stage. Sighing, Yugi tapped his taller counterpart on the arm.

"Let it go," he said as the other duelists around them started to wander off.

Yami rolled his eyes, but followed Yugi anyway. Marik fell into step beside him and they both watched Yugi carefully as he led them past the crowd. Joey and Yugi were walking side by side, chatting happily about something that neither Marik or Yami could quite make out.

"Is something up?" Marik asked quietly.

"Something's bothering him, but I don't know what," Yami replied.

"And you haven't asked him about it?" Marik asked.

"It's not my place to pry. If he needs my help, he'll let me know," Yami sighed, running his fingers through his dark hair.

"Are you sure about that? I mean, he is your hikari."

"Yugi likes to do things on his own terms, surprisingly enough. Keeps him in control, I guess."

"I never thought of Yugi as controlling," Marik said, smiling a little.

"He's not with most things, but when it comes to his own personal problems, he is," Yami murmured, his gaze boring into his smaller friend's back.

Marik glanced over at the Pharaoh, curious, but he kept his face emotionless.

"What's changed that has you so worried?"

Stopping, Yami looked down at his feet for a moment, trying to find a way to formulate what he was going to say. Marik didn't dare to interrupt his thought process and resigned himself to silently waiting.

"He hardly sleeps anymore and when he does, its only for a few hours," the Pharaoh murmured softly.

"Is it nightmares or-"

"-I believe so. I don't have any real proof though."

"You won't look into his mind?"

"Just because your dark side loves to find any possible weaknesses that you have doesn't mean that I like doing the same," Yami spat.

"I'm sorry! I was just asking," Marik cried.

"I know, I know," Yami murmured, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "I'm sorry for being snippy."

Marik shrugged and motioned towards the group of duelists that was now far ahead.

"We'd better catch up or he'll think we're up to something."

Yugi, having sensed that Yami had fallen behind, had stopped and was waiting for them at a street corner. Meeting the small teenager's gaze, Yami smiled a little and started walking again, Marik close behind.

Seto had stormed away from the podium, his bodyguards trying hard to catch up. He gritted his teeth and hissed something unintelligible under his breath. His normal anger had been spiked by seeing that annoying little brat and his friends. Sure, he hadn't seen the two cheerleaders, but they'd been somewhere in the crowd, he just knew it.

It annoyed him to no end that he'd been forced to invite Yugi and his like to the tournament. Of course, having Yugi and Yami there gave him more chances to steal the title of King of Games from either of them (or preferably both), but the smaller boy's personality grated on his nerves like a rough, porous stone. Then there was the mutt that came along with the deal. Seto quickly pushed the thought of Joey out of his head, preferring to stick to his rival than the ragged mutt. It only increased his drive to destroy that smiling little bastard.

"Sir, we-"

"-Get out of here!" Seto shouted at his bodyguards, rounding on them. "There are duels to be fought!"

"Right away, Sir!"

They scampered off, leaving the CEO by himself in the busy street. People stared at him as he stormed past them, recognizing him as one of the most powerful men in the country. He ignored them completely, scowling at anyone who tried to step in his path. Noticing someone up ahead, the CEO's scowl turned into a smirk. One of the former Ghouls, a tall, slim man with as fierce of eyes as Kaiba's own was waiting on the street corner, the duel disk on his arm more than apparent.

"Well, the weak must fall for the mighty to rise."

A/N: The title of this section comes from the song 'Anywhere Is' by Enya. I'm a HUGE Enya fan so a lot of the titles will probably come from her work. The full line is: "I walk the maze of moments, but everywhere I turn to, begins a new beginning, but never finds a finish."