~Chapter 2~

"~I~ hear that he keeps the dead body in his office to gloat over," the second familiar voice said in the gleeful tone of knowing that something probably isn't true.

"I heard he killed him using the technology he'd created because he didn't think it was going to be used ruthlessly enough," the first voice rejoined.

Taking a deep breath, Bakura walked over to join the conversation. "Who?" he asked.

Jounouchi and his brunette friend Honda scowled at him. "Don't you have something else to do?" the blond demanded.

"Go torment Yuugi some more," Honda chimed in. "We don't need you."

Bakura sagged a moment, then lifted his head. "No. I want to know what you're talking about."

The boys looked at him with almost grudging respect. "Kaiba Corp."

"Because they said Kaiba-san killed his father to take over?" Bakura asked. "Have they freed the world leaders from his virtual reality yet?"

"Who cares?" Jounouchi asked. "Not like most of them were doing any good anyway."

"I mean, look at that American creep," Honda put in. "Kaiba can take over the world for all I care."

'Take over the world?' asked something in Bakura that had been asleep. He blinked, informing himself that everyone knew about Alcatraz and the weapons stockpile, and the way that he had his subordinates killed after they helped him take over. 'But....'

"Why are you here, anyway?" Jounouchi asked with grudging interest.

"My father's bank transferred him here."

"Your dad's a banker?" the blond asked with more interest.

"The money belongs to the bank. Not to him," Bakura said in no uncertain terms. "He used to be an archeologist, but then when he got married.... And after... after the accident he didn't want to leave me alone."

"That why your hair's that freak's colour?"

"At least he doesn't look like a gaijin," Honda shot back at Jounouchi before Bakura could stand up for himself.

The pale haired boy watched as they fought, thinking that they seemed less like friends than they should. He shook his head. It was just the way they were, and they probably weren't good friends for him, even if he felt that he wanted to be friends with them.

The painfully shy Yuugi was dragged past by his only friend, Anzu.

"Ohayou, Mutou-kun, Mazaki-san," Bakura called with a smile.

While Yuugi smiled shily back as they walked by, Anzu turned her nose up at him. Even though two weeks had passed, she still hadn't forgiven him.

Bakura sighed, no more sure why he wanted the friendship of the class scapegoat than why he wanted the friendship of the class' biggest delinquents, but he felt that he should be able to trust them. More than he could trust his old friends, apparently, as none of them had even tried to contact him.

Bakura made his way home, lonely beyond reason and feeling that he shouldn't be, and wondering why the thought of the president of Kaiba Corp had brought images of playing fields and pretty cards. That the cold president would play anything as silly as card game was unthinkable.

He spent the rest of the day as he had spent most days in the past two weeks: at home wondering why he felt like he was missing something, something like a warped iron core.