A/N: Just a note, but unless it says otherwise, each chapter will start out in Keiko's POV.


Chapter Two: Games

"I do hope you're enjoying yourself." Goosebumps rose on my flesh as I listened in a daze. How was it possible that he'd found me? Why was he calling, anyway - couldn't he get the hint? Then I stopped and tried to calm down. He didn't know where I was, but he did know my number. He was trying to get me to tell him where I was by messing with my head, and he was calling because I'd simply left without a word during the night. Any parent would do the same, though they would have called long before now.

"What do you want?" I tried to level the venom in my words, but it was difficult when trying to ignore Ryou's curious gaze. I shot him an apologetic look about the small collision and hoped it would be enough.

"Now really, Keiko, you were brought up better than that. Where's your family charm? Where's the eloquence you developed when you worked for the company?"

"I don't know - you tell me. Does it hurt to sit much?" My knuckles hurt from my tight grip on the phone, which, surprisingly, didn't crack under the pressure. I was a different story, too tired and disoriented to think straight. This wasn't supposed to be happening; not yet.

"I'd watch your tongue, Keiko. You wouldn't want to end up regretting it later."

"Oh, do shut up."

"I only called to see how your flight went, but since you insist on being so rude, I'm afraid I'll have to..." His words faded as my cell phone crackled in warning; it wasn't going to last much longer.

"What?"

"You're not as mysterious as you would like to think, Keiko. I know where you are, and who you're with. Don't think you're safe just because you ran away - or that your so-called 'brother' is, for that matter. You already know how I am when it comes to the business world."

"You wouldn't dare."

"You'll have to see for yourself, won't you? I'll be sending an assignment your way in a while. Don't let me down, we both know you don't want to." The pause was life-draining as I tried to find my voice, shaking as I fought for control.

"I wonder," he continued, "what would happen if your worst nightmare came true, don't you? Don't you ever wonder what it's like to be truly alone?"

"You leave him out of this, hear me?" I was trying not to shout, though how was beyond me. I wasn't even listening anymore, just snarling into the speaker as the fuzzy crackling intensified, then stopped as a soft click announced the end of my phone's life. Anything else he might have said would remain a mystery.

"Damnit!" The phone crashed helplessly as I slammed it on the small coffee table, trying to vent some of the pent-up emotion that was wrapping around my heart. I'll be the first to admit I've something of a temper, but it seemed a bit much for even me.

"Keiko?" I jumped at the cautious voice behind me, forgetting Ryou in the chaos. The poor boy must be terrified of me; I was. I didn't even want to look at him, to see what he was thinking by simply looking in his eyes. I didn't want to know what he would see in mine.

"Yes?" My voice, thankfully, was calm and in control, betraying nothing.

"Who was that?"

"No one."

"Liar."

"So?"

"It was your father, wasn't it?" Wow, he knew without even looking at me. I must really be losing it if he could read me that easily.

"Perhaps. Why?"

"Exactly."

I froze, taking a deep breath as I closed my eyes. I knew what he was getting at, but did I want to? Did I want him to know?

"Why what?"

"Well, why were you shouting, for starters? 'Him' who? Why are you so upset? Why did you run away - run here?" There were too many questions, not to mention the ones he left unspoken. They were still there, though, adding to the tension of the room until it got so thick you could stir it with a spoon.

"He doesn't know why I left," I said quietly. We both knew who "he" was, so there was no need to explain. "He doesn't understand, so we get into fights a lot...I don't know. I just don't." The fabric of the couch tickled my face as I rested it against the scratchy fabric, muffling my words as I talked into it. His hand lay on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as silence blanketed the apartment.

"Want to talk?"

"Not really."

"Keiko." It was the first time I'd heard him be stern with me, a note of steel supporting his words as he pulled me away from the cushion slightly so he could actually understand me.

"No, Ryou."

"I'm not asking." I looked at him then, our gazes locking in a silent battle of wills. They were a beautiful but unusual color, a brown tinted crimson. Brown...and white hair..

I jumped from couch as though I'd been bitten, staring at him as surprise washed over me. He looked so much like my father...so much it hurt. Had I suddenly landed in enemy territory, after all?

"Please." I hated the way my voice cracked, how weak I sounded, but I couldn't help it.

"Keiko, what's wrong?"

"Please." Still gazing at his eyes, I caught a cold, calculating glance within their depths, but it vanished, leaving only concern and a small light of panic. I didn't notice when he stood up and walked towards me, realizing too late when he was less than a foot away. Then his arms were around me and his chin rested on my shoulder.

"You know you can talk to me, but I can't force it out of you. You don't have to tell me everything, but I need to know what's going on if I'm going to help you."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"You know better."

It was at that moment the shock faded, leaving me to reality's chiding slap. This was my brother, who wanted to help me; the one I wanted help from. I'd thought it would be easy, that I could boss it out of him without an explanation like I did when we were kids, but I knew I was wrong. I had before I'd gotten on the jet. More importantly, this wasn't a madman who would see me as nothing but an obstacle if I got in his way, but someone who knew me better than I knew myself, who was patient enough to put up with me and try to sort things out.

The realization was almost enough to make me cry. Almost.

"He knew why I ran, he just didn't understand," I repeated as I pulled away and sank to the couch again. If I was going to tell him what was going on, I wanted it to be the whole story, but I already knew that was going to have to wait for another night. Maybe I sat in hopes of being able to find an easier way to start the story; maybe it was just to prevent me from seeming weak if my knees buckled.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and tried to remember everything. Storytelling, be it fiction or reality, was something I took seriously, and I definitely wanted him to understand why things were happening. At first, the words didn't come, but after a few minutes, I was able to begin.

I told him everything I could think of; how I was wandering around like a lost soul around the castle, searching for a mysterious something that called to my mind, how I blamed it on the fact that I hadn't slept in over a week and was losing my appetite because of it. I told him of the nightmares I'd been having, of the past and present, and how they all seemed to revolve around my father; how my journey led me to a place that I never knew existed. It was a shrine, dedicated entirely to my aunt, and that I wasn't so restless when I went in. In fact, saying I was at peace was an understatement; it was more like a fog had covered my mind, distorting my thoughts and feelings.

I lost touch with the world around me as I told him of the unusual feeling that came suddenly, a cold chill running up my spine that was so strong that I practically writhed on the spot. The memories had taken over. I didn't tell him what they were, but that they had taken up what was left of reality until I was just sitting in a corner of the room and watching the world around my physical body with empty eyes. I'd heard my father's voice, asking strange questions. Then I'd woken up from the past only to find that I'd been hearing correctly; he was there in front of me, a mixture of surprise and something else on his face. Close to contempt, but not quite. I didn't know what to call it.

That's when we'd starting arguing...again. I don't know why we started that day or what caused it, but he started speaking about things I didn't understand, and an unexplainable rage ran through my veins as I listened to him until I just started yelling about things I didn't know about, as though I had known him for longer than those few, patience-testing years, which was impossible. It had gotten so bad that I'd stormed off and locked myself in my room, only to fly out later that day and head to the only place I could think of. Home. Japan...with Ryou.

"He wasn't himself, Ryou," I said quietly. "It's been happening a lot lately, where he's seemed like a different person. He scared me.

"What am I supposed to do?"

((Yami Bakura's POV))

I was not happy. Normally, I'll try to seem polite, if only to keep people from suspecting my presence, but it's always been an act. Hearing the girl's sob story was no different. I half listened as Ryou paid full attention to the girl, more interested in finding a way to get rid of her, rather than help. I'd heard it all a million times before; the proud teen rebelling against authority, blaming it on those who had power and held it over them. This girl was no different.

I did not want her with us, and had made my opinion perfectly clear to my hikari several times already, so why she was still inside, sitting on the worn couch like some dejected doll was beyond me. I was tired of waiting, more than ready to take things into my own hands...Ryou's hands.

I hate sharing a body. I like getting credit for the things I do, and getting rid of this interfering crybaby would be nothing short of delicious.

Her question had caught us both by surprise, looking out the window as what little moonlight there was washed over her, comforting her. Very poetic, but a waste of time. Still, one doesn't watch three thousand years of life go by without picking up on a few things, and as much fun as it would be to see her plunge into failure and experience true loss, I wouldn't do it; at least, not right away. She was too easy a target.

"I don't see how coming here would help," I growled, mentally shoving Ryou aside and taking over. He, too, was weak, but I had to put up with that defect for now. My existence depended on him, and his weakness only made it that much easier for me to take control when I desired.

"I know, but...I couldn't stay there, Ryou, I couldn't! If I had..." She shook her head, as though dismissing some horrible mental image. When she spoke again, her words were hardly above a whisper.

"I couldn't. And I can't go back...not yet." She looked so fragile, as though she were really as weak as I imagined. Perhaps she was. I fought to keep a smirk from coming out in the open; to play with this one would be nothing short of amusing.

"And I imagine you couldn't go anywhere else, of course." She looked up at me in surprise, then shook her head again.

"You know that as well as I do, Ryou. Aside from you, I have no one." I could sense the boy trying to take back control and hesitated, wondering how far I should go. Pushing too far in the beginning of the game could spoil future fun, after all.

"Get some rest," I growled, standing and turning towards the back room in a single fluid motion. "When you wake up, you'll think more clearly. Maybe then you will be able to see what decision it is you have really made, coming here." I slammed the door to prevent any reply and flopped on the mattress, finally letting the boy take control. I sensed him staring at the ceiling, unsure of what to do, what could possibly mend the damage I'd done.

Though I couldn't be certain, I could have sworn she had come up to the door; I sensed someone there, and it didn't take a genius to figure it out. Letting Ryou ride an emotional roller coaster was fun, too, so I decided to let him deal with it, enjoying my chaos in the darkest corner of his mind.

Oddly enough, I could have sworn we heard her say something on the other side.

"Maybe I was wrong, after all." As soft as a winter breeze, then nothing.

I was just a spectator the rest of that night, listening to the silence in the apartment. In the bedroom, I watched the boy whose body I shared cry silent tears until he eventually fell asleep.

I hadn't felt so alive since before I'd been trapped in the Millennium Ring, and it felt wonderful to be creating chaos once again. A feral smile curled at the edge of my lips at the thought.

It had been long indeed, since I'd had such fun. Too long.