Those bright white lights came at him. So fast, so close, Yugi could hardly brace himself mentally for the impact.

There wasn't time to move, and even if there had been, sheer panic made Yugi's muscles seize.

The last thing he saw was that blinding light, before a sudden wash of darkness fell over him.

He heard the thunk of metal. Of a car making impact with something hard, and then another crunch of metal right after, the sound of a car slamming into another car.

But he couldn't see any of this. He could only see blackness. And it all sounded so far away, like he was experiencing it through a dream. That thick viscous blackness pulled him under, down, down, down, his mind drowning in it.

And then there was nothingness.

Yami didn't have time to possess Yugi and still keep his host from getting hit by the car.

In the time it would take to rip consciousness and control from Yugi he would be nothing but a smear on the pavement. So Yami did the only thing he could.

He poured out of the puzzle and Yugi's own shadow like a wave of black ink, and encased his host in a writhing cloak of darkness. Using all the magic at his disposal, Yami willed his shadow form to become corporeal, solid. Willed himself to be as hard as steel.

He felt it slam into him. Registered the crushing impact that threatened to penetrate his form, and he pushed back with a hundred shadow tentacles, willing this form to sweep the car off to the side. Forcing the vehicle away from him, away from his precious host, and into the back end of Yugi's own car. Unfortunately.

There was going to be some damage.

Yugi was trembling. His mind was screaming. Fear rolled through their mind link in waves, and it was everything Yami had to shut it out. He pushed Yugi down. Forced the consciousness of his host into dormancy even as he forced himself into his host's body. Unnatural shadows melting back into Yugi. Features sharpened, wilder hair disheveled, eyes turning the color of blood.

And then Yugi himself melted into the shadows.

Mr. Mashima threw his car into reverse, hearing the awful scrunch of metal as the nose of his sedan disconnected from the back end of Yugi's city car. It was a miracle his own car was still running.

He tossed a glance at the spot Yugi had been, but couldn't see the young man anymore. He must have hit Yugi. Must have. The collision had been sudden and jarring. But he'd felt the car impact something before smashing into Yugi's car.

It had to be that worthless welp. "Fuck you, Kaiba's pet."

The tires squealed as he threw the car into drive and hit the gas. The whole vehicle lurching forward like a wounded animal before breaking for the exit.

Mr. Mashima risked a glance into his rear view mirror, hoping to catch a glimpse of a body on the concrete behind.

Instead he caught a glimpse of something black in backseat of his car.

He eased off the gas, but could not tear his eyes form the mirror. As if alive, the shadows crawled off a figure in his back seat, revealing blazing blood colored eyes, that almost glowed. Yugi sat in the back seat of his car, he made eye contact with Mr. Mashima through the mirror and a cruel sneer pulled his mouth.

"You like to play games PR Guy?" He asked, dark desperate amusement lacing his tone. But it wasn't Yugi's voice. It wasn't right. This wasn't the voice of the soft spoken expense manager. This was confident, unhinged, and a low timbre. Nothing like Yugi's higher-pitched grating sound.

Mr. Mashima made a strangled choking shriek and hit the breaks. Putting his car into a full stop, he stumbled from the vehicle while it was still running.

Crazy-eyed Yugi unblinkingly watched him from the back seat. That toothy grin ever fixed on his features.

"How did you get in my car?!" Mashima stumbled back until he made contact with another car. He cast a quick glance at the spot Yugi should have been, the ground behind his city car. But the pavement was vacant. He looked back at his own damaged sedan and Yugi was languidly stepping out of the back with all the grace of a feline.

"You tried to kill me," he practically purred. But there was iciness behind those words. Absolute cruelty. He stalked towards Mr. Mashima never breaking eye contact. "You have trespassed in my soul, so now you will play a game with me."

Mashima tried to hedge around the car he'd backed himself into.

Yugi stopped a few feet away, and those burning eyes became even more manic. "And I have waited so so long for this," he whispered near desperately. In a louder, huskier voice he stated simply, "Shadow Game."

Shadows suddenly oozed down the walls of the car port, blanketing the entire level in an inky black shell. Exits winked out of existence, and distance appeared to fold in on itself and stretch on forever. The only constant were the sparse population of cars which continued to dot the hellish black landscape.

"The rules are simple," Yugi continued, pulling a stained monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket. "We will be blindfolded, with only our hearing to guide us out of the way of oncoming traffic."

On cue, one of the vacant vehicles revved to life. Driverless, it's headlights came on.

"I hope you liked the film Christine. Our goal is to not get hit. It'll be like a real life game of frogger. When you can't hop anymore, then the game is over. And should you lose..." hollow laughter spilled from Yugi's chest, "you'll suffer a penalty game. Dealer's choice of course."

"Whose the dealer?"

"Me."

"And what if I refuse to play the game?" Mr. Mashima demanded suspiciously. He tried to inch around the car behind him, but it suddenly started up and rolled away from him on its own.

Yugi tossed a clean, unused handkerchief at Mashima, seemingly pulling it from thin air.

"Better follow the rules or you forfeit, and we skip right to the punishment." Yugi waited patiently, manic eyes watching expectantly.

"And what do I get if I win?"

"I let you walk away from this alive, and forget you ever transgressed upon my host. Sounds fair... right?"

"Your host?"

"The blindfold, Mr. PR Guy. Now."

The look Yugi shot him promised pain, and suffering, and Mr. Mashima felt compelled to start this game. He fastened the handkerchief around his head, adjusting it so it covered his vision. He noticed Yugi follow suite as he did this. Fastening his own stained handkerchief over those demonic red eyes.

"What now?" Their vision was thoroughly obscured and the blindfolds were secure.

"We take turns, we listen, and we jump out of the way." The-not-quite-right-Yugi explained, "as a courtesy, I will go first."

A car engine revved. Tires squealed against pavement and the sound came right for them. A great *zyoooom!* as something large rushed passed. But there was no sound of the car colliding with anything.

"How do I know you aren't cheating?" Mr. Mashima called.

"You need not call my honor into question. I would worry more about yourself," Yugi answered, sounding a little breathless. "It's your turn after all."

On cue, another engine revved to life. And the keen of tires alerted Mashima that there was a vehicle headed straight for him. He threw his whole body to the side, leaping a whole three feet to the left, and feeling the rush of air as something very large and solid just barely missed hitting him. He made solid impact with the ground. Rough cement tearing holes in the elbows of his nice clothes.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath.

"Round one is over," Yugi replied silkily. "Prepare yourself for round two."

Another car roared to life.

Yami listened, waited, and pushed off the ground. He dove to the right, rolling out of the way as a vehicle zoomed by, disturbing the air and his wild hair in the process. This one felt much closer than the last car. But he came out unscathed. Yami sucked in a breath of relief.

"Your move," he announced. Not that Mr. Mashima deserved such courtesy. But Yami was nothing if not... fair. These games were designed to draw out one's true character, and Mashima's heart was so dark that he was already playing with a handicap.

Another car keened, a rush of air farther away from Yami, and he heard the yelp of the former PR guy followed by the smell of burning rubber. There was a gasping, and choking but no moans of pain. Mashima had survived.

"You're doing so well," Yami purred. Exhilaration thrilling through his veins for the first time in years. The adrenaline high coursing Yugi's veins was making Yami drunk, curling his mind with the sickness of power. He forced himself to tighten his focus and listen. It was his turn after all.

The next car must have been an expensive electric one, because there was almost no sound from the engine.

He listened. Strained his ear to detect the direction of an oncoming vehicle and still block out the choking gasps from his adversary.

Yami barely heard the scrape of tires. And nearly reacted a split second too late.

Scuffed dress shoes pushed off against the pavement. Using all his strength he threw himself to the left. Using even his hands to push off the ground, nails digging into the concrete and cracking from the rough texture.

The gust of disturbed air was too close. Something clipped Yami in the hip at an angle. And the force sent him rolling. Pain exploded in his side, and the concrete tore skin and clothes where he slid along the ground. A shower of shattered headlamp cover scattered along the concrete around him.

"Dammit," he coughed, using an elbow to brace against the ground. He tried to catch his breath and get up to prepare for the next car.

"You got hit didn't you!?" Mr. Mashima cackled gleefully if not breathlessly.

"I can still hop," Yami replied, confidence belying the searing pain in his hip. "I'd worry more about yourself, you toad."

Fortunate for Mashima the next vehicle was a truck. Loud and noisy, and taking longer to accelerate. The former PR Manager dodged it easily enough.

"Looks like I'm winning," crowed the man. He was definitely winded from all the hopping, and rolling, and diving.

"Don't let that overconfidence be your downfall."

Yami heard the next car. It was gas, so the combustion engine was noisy enough to herald its approach. His hip protested harshly. He wouldn't be able to jump as quickly or effectively.

If I jump too early the car will change trajectory and get me when I hit the ground. But if I jump too late...

He listened, listened to the keen of tires on pavement, the hum of the engine.

With his good leg, Yami leapt. Diving to the side, and feeling the whoosh of the car zoom past.

Safe. He flopped onto his back and sucked in precious air. It almost hurt to breath.

The next car was electric, and even more expensive than the previous electric car. There almost wasn't a sound aside from a peal of tire noises.

"I don't hear it! I don't—Haaaaah!"

The magic of the game suddenly shimmered, like electricity in the air. When the car zoomed passed a murmur arose in the darkness, whispering wordlessly into Yami's ears.

"Beat that you little prick!" Mr. Mashima swaggered. "This game is easy!"

No other car roared to life. No other engine started to hum. All the vehicles had gone silent.

Slowly, carefully, Yami pulled himself from the concrete. It took longer than he would have liked and far less graceful because of his wounded leg, but with some difficulty he managed to stand.

"What?" Is this game over now?"

Yami reached up and pulled the stained handkerchief from his open eyes. It took a moment for his vision to adjust, but it revealed what the shadows had already whispered to him. He saw Mashima struggling to quickly refasten his own blindfold.

"You couldn't follow the rules, mister Public Relations," Yami stated resolutely. Then a cruel smile etched itself across his face. Devilish and white against the shadows cast over his face. His eyes burned as suffocating magic suddenly welled from the puzzle around his neck.

The former PR manager dropped the charade, balling the handkerchief in his fist.

All around them the building felt like it was trembling, and the inky darkness shifted as if alive.

A bright golden eye opened in Yami's forehead, it pinned Mr. Mashima with its empty stare, even whilst Yami's demonic crimson eyes burned with damnation.

"Your penalty game should be death for what you attempted against my light. But my Yugi is so kind... so merciful, and I told him I was nice." Yami raised a hand and jabbed a finger at the trembling man. "You will taste nothing but gasoline, and you will breath nothing but exhaust," he told the PR man this in a low menacing tone. "...And you will bleed nothing but oil..." The next words were stated in nothing more than a harsh mutter, "Penalty Game."

He didn't wait to see the effect of his curse. The man was yowling as Yami turned away, limping towards the edge of the parking garage while the shadows of the building receded back to their normal appearance and positions.

The wall next to the elevator reappeared when he was a few meters away from it. The pain in his hip and leg was near blinding now that the adrenaline was fading away. Yami clenched his teeth against it. He dragged himself to the wall, using the surface to keep him stable; he reached up and pulled the fire alarm. As soon as the alarm began blaring, and the lights flashing, he let the body crumple to the floor. Less than six feet away from the doors of the elevator.

Someone will find you, Yugi. I'm so sorry...

Yami released his hold over his host's consciousness. Setting Yugi free from the darkness, while he retreated to the depths of his soul room to wait... and watch.

There were sirens when Yugi regained consciousness. He felt so disoriented.

Lights flashing, people yelling. A man was screaming.

Yugi tried to move and felt pain erupt all down his right side. A moan escaped him.

"Shhhh, It's ok," a masculine voice assured him.

Yugi felt a hand on his shoulder, comforting in its touch, and holding him in place so he wouldn't try to move again.

"An ambulance is pulling in now."

Yugi forced his eyes to crack open, staring up at the person above him. "Kaiba-kun?"

Seto's blue eyes fixed on Yugi and a strange expression flitted across his usually hard features. "You haven't called me that in a long time. Do you have a concussion?" His mouth set in a firm line as he touched the top of Yugi's head.

It didn't hurt. And Yugi didn't wince. Surprisingly the pain wasn't in his head so much as his lower half.

"Did I get hit by a car?"

Seto grimaced and looked away, staring at something across the parking garage. "Yes. I think my fucking former PR guy tried to mow you down."

There was still screaming from someone. And there was also yelling from what sounded like police officers.

Yugi blinked. But it must have been a long blink because when he opened his eyes again there were paramedics. People were mumbling something about possible broken bones, and internal bleeding.

He couldn't see Seto anymore. But he could hear the CEO nearby shouting demands at people.

Yugi shut his eyes again and screamed against the pain when he felt people move him.

0000

Mokuba took him home from the hospital. Under orders from Seto no doubt.

"So a pelvic fracture?" The younger Kaiba brother asked from the driver's seat. They were in Mokuba's red Fiat Spider, since Yugi's car was taken to the shop. Seto often complained that the car wasn't suitable for men of their status, but Mokuba liked telling people he drove a "Spider."

"A minor one, as far as pelvic fractures go. There was also some internal bleeding, but they got that under control. I'll be covered in bruises for ages though," Yugi answered conversationally from the back seat.

"Seto wants you to make use of the personal assistant he assigned to you. The one you always ignore."

"What was his name again?" Yugi's mind felt a bit hazy from the pain medication. But at least he wasn't writhing in agony.

"Ryuji Otogi. He shows potential in game's development and wanted a foot into the company. He's been kinda put out that you've been blowing him off."

"Oh..." Guilt washed over Yugi. He'd forgone using a personal assistant simply because he didn't want to feel as pompous and bossy as Seto Kaiba. He firmly believed if he could do it himself, why trouble someone else to do it for you. It never occurred to him that his personal assistant was trying to prove himself, and move up in the company. And that wasn't going to happen if Yugi hardly used him. "I'll make sure to give him a call."

"Good," Mokuba beamed at him through the rear view mirror. "So uh... Mr. Mashima got committed to a mental hospital."

"Yeah?" He wasn't really interested in what had happened to his attempted murderer, just so long as the man couldn't come after him again. But it was perplexing that the former PR manager would be committed rather than go to prison. But then... that used to happen to a lot of people around Yugi when he was a teen. People being committed to a mental hospital that is.

"It seems he completely lost it after hitting you with that car. Seto said he was flailing around the parking garage screaming like a maniac when the police arrested him."

That would explain the screaming I heard. Yugi vaguely remembered hearing someone screaming when Kaiba had found him. He let his head fall against the seat of the car, trying to will the dizziness away. The city scenery flying by in the window was not helping.

Mokuba's tone changed becoming more subdued, "Seto will make sure the man never comes within a mile of you. Sorry." He must have seen Yugi's eyes shut in the back seat and the strain on his features. "We won't talk about him. Look! We're at your place."

He couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, but he felt the red Spider pull into into the driveway. Yugi was awash with relief to finally be home again after spending several nights in the hospital. He wanted a proper shower, and real food, and his own bed.

Seto had given him the next eight weeks off of work. Pending more time if Yugi needed it.

Mokuba retrieved the crutches from the trunk, and helped Yugi out fo the car. He reluctantly opened his eyes, so as to help Mokuba navigate them to the correct apartment. They took the elevator up to his apartment, since it would have been a bitch to take the stairs like Yugi usually did. He assisted Yugi all the way to the couch and then dithered in the living room asking if he needed anything else.

Yugi cast a longing look at the hallway that led to the bathroom. He couldn't possibly ask Mokuba to help him take a shower.

"Your personal assistant is instructed to help you in any way you need. Even a shower," Mokuba stated, seemingly reading his friend's thoughts. "If you feel ok with that. And if he does anything weird, we'll fire him on the spot, ok?"

Yugi snapped his attention back to the assistant CEO. "Thanks?" He honestly didn't feel comfortable having a near complete stranger help him shower. But then an in-home nurse would be just as strange to him. "I think I'll call my mom and ask her for help."

Mokuba shrugged. He fidgeted with his suit cuffs for several minutes, seemingly unaware what to do in this situation. "You gonna be okay?"

Yugi adjusted himself on the couch, getting into a more comfortable position. "I think I'll be ok. Can I have a drink, and my iPad before you go? I'll call Ryuji if I need anything else."

Mokuba collected what Yugi asked for. Called in an order of food for delivery, asking Ryuji Otogi to pick it up and bring it by. Then he patted Yugi on the head, ruffling his formerly spiked but now messy, deflated and droopy hair. He swatted at Mokuba, and told him to git.

When he was gone stillness fell over the apartment.

Yugi cast a gaze around the room drinking in the comforting familiarity. Everything was how he left it. Everything was so normal. As if he'd never even been gone. His eyes landed on the neglected white board on the coffee table. And that's when his heart plummeted into the pits of his stomach, and it felt so awful he nearly threw up.

Nothing new had been written on it. And the game of Tic Tac Toe remained near finished but unplayed. Still the ghost's turn.

Ghost.

In all the time he'd been absent he expected Yami to have replied back, or played their game.

He tentatively cleared his throat and spoke into the silence. "Yami, I'm sorry I haven't been home. I got hit by a car."

Nothing.

"I'm off work for the next eight weeks. Maybe we could play more games?"

Still nothing. Not even a pillow falling off the couch.

He shifted on the cushions feeling very awkward. But then the ghost didn't normally respond to him except at night. It had been several nights now... and the board was still blank.

"I'd still like to see you," he added more softly. "If that's ok."

Deep in his soul room Yami clutched at the fabric on his chest. Emotions of guilt, longing and anticipation flooded the mind link. And Yugi's words were echoing in his chambers like a mantra.

"Meet you. Meet you.. meet you..."

"You're not playing fair... I don't like this game anymore." Yami stared vehemently at the stone floor. Crimson eyes attempting to gouge holes in the surface while his knuckles turned white with strain.

"I hope you aren't mad at me." His host's voice continued to echo into his chamber.

"I got you hurt," he growled in response, teeth grinding from the set of his jaw. And in his soul room he could feel the pain as if he had his own body even if it never left any physical damage. He was so sorely tempted to shut out their mind link so he could brood in peace. "I'm mad at me."

Yugi said something else, but all Yami caught was the wanting, "please?"

The spirit slammed his head back against the ornate stone throne. The pain so sharp it made his mind reel and he could feel it in his sinuses.