.

"If you wanna play it like a game

Well come on, come on let's play

Cause I'd rather waste my life pretending

Than have to forget you for one whole minute

They've taped over your mouth

Scribbled out the truth with their lies

Your little spies," Crush Crush Crush, Paramore

Rin paced. And paced. And paced.

She turned, still feeling oddly light without her cape, skirt, veil and mask. They were lying scattered about her room, veil and mask on the desk, cape on her bed and skirt balled up in the corner. The room was chilly, but it felt good. She was hot, uncomfortably hot. Her cheeks were flushed and sweat coated her brow. She rubbed at her forehead uncomfortably.

Pausing, she hissed. Her feet were so sweaty. She kicked off her boots, freeing her calves and letting the cool air wash over them. But it wasn't enough. Off came her socks, and she returned to pacing.

She knew that pacing probably wasn't helping her stay cool, but the alternative was worse. If she stopped moving, the voice would come back, and her memory would fade. She knew it would. That was what she was afraid of.

If she stopped moving, her doubts would be replaced with that awful, bland false-truth she had been following. It reminded her of something out of a novel she read once, a novel she couldn't remember reading but whose plot screamed at her. The situation she was in reminded her of someone named Winston and something called doublethink.

She knew it was wrong. She could feel it, that feeling of anxious foreboding that comes when you've done something you know you shouldn't. Her shoulders were tense, and her steps quick and practiced. But at the same time, she doubted. It was a feeling; she was hesitant to trust feelings. That was how she'd always been; Mistress Kazarina said so. She always operated on logic and…and realistic ideas.

Or, at least, that's what she'd been told.

So why did it feel natural to act on emotion? Why did she feel better to just be impulsive? Spontaneous? It was so stiff and cumbersome to think every action through, and even though she had 'always done it', it didn't feel right. It didn't feel like she was being true to herself.

Maybe I sacrificed who I used to be…in order to gain such a high standing here, she thought, turning on her heel to pace another line. "I never did ask what my family was like," she murmured. "Who my friends were, other than Mister Anubias and Miss Sellon…"

Her thoughts took another turn, one she was familiar with but hated. Who was that boy? The boy with the brown hair, dressed in the red shirt and white pants? The boy with the intense, burning red eyes?

She remembered the shiver that ran up her spine when he turned, one that he apparently felt as well. It was strange; she could have sworn that when his face turned, something glinted. Maybe it was just his eye, catching the sun at just the right angle to reflect some of it's glow back at her. That would be the simple explanation, the one that would shut her mind up about it, but something in her gut told her it was more. That light wasn't normal. Maybe it was possible for light to reflect on an eye like that, but it definitely didn't shine with all the colors of the rainbow. Light just didn't do that. She should know—she was a Haos battler.

But even without the weirdness of that light, she knew there was something different about that boy. She felt it with certainty. When she saw him and he saw her, the recognition was instant. She knew him, she knew she knew him. And he felt so important.

There she went with the feelings again! She frowned, turning and continuing to pace. How was she sure the feeling was accurate? It was just a sensation! Sensations lied! Sometimes made you think something was there but turned out to be a trick, like when a loose strand of hair tickled the back of your neck. What if this was just a lie, and she was just chasing shadows?

But on the other hand, what if it was right? What if there really was something more going on here? What if her gut instinct was right?

With a growl of frustration, she threw her hands up in the air. "You know what," she announced to no one in particular, "to hell with logic!"

He was important. Kuso was important.

"Kuso," she murmured, slowing. That was his name, right? Kuso? "Kuso, Kuso…why does that mean something to me?" She blinked, feeling recollection somewhere inside her.

A boy with brown hair—the boy from before, but somehow…different—was shouting at her, getting all up in her face. "Oh whoopie, a big wheel that goes round and round, what a blast!"

A spark of anger ignited within her, and she leaned forward, pushing herself into his personal space, and shouting back at him, "Just because it doesn't go up and down at a hundred miles an hour doesn't mean it won't be fun!"

He glared back at her and snapped something back in response, but no sound came out of his mouth. None that Rin could remember.

She stared at her feet as she paced, wondering what that had come from. She knew that voice, knew it well after the previous morning's experience. That was that boy, only…younger. The boy was dressed in red and yellow, and he was wearing sunglasses.

Why did thinking of him bring up a warmth that was not only tolerable, but also…pleasurable?

She moved to tug on a pigtail but discovered only it's phantom image. Her hand closed on empty air. A growl of frustration escaped her. It was useful to have her hair up, especially when she was hot like she was now, but she couldn't satisfy her nervous mannerisms when it was up like this! It was so irritating.

"Why do I even want my hair up like this?" she hissed to herself. "I don't even like…it…" She paused, slowing in her pacing. Her hairdo…it felt fake. She felt fake. Her hand came up against her bun, and she froze. "I wonder…"

Moving quickly, she darted for the mirror behind the door, yanking her hair out of her bun quickly as she did so. She pulled the two hair ties she used out of it, undid her braid, and yanked her fingers through her now free hair. She forced the knots out of it and tried to ignore the waviness that came from having it pinned in a braid all day. Then, she pulled her hair into pigtails, twisting the ties around expertly. The action was familiar and took absolutely no conscious effort, and before she knew it, her other pigtail was in place.

Rin stared at herself in the mirror, puzzled. The updo was frazzled, but it wasn't fake. There was something comforting about the pull on her scalp where her hair was tight. Turning her head was met with just the right air resistance. This was comfortable. This was normal. This was her.

She felt the doublethink come over her and try to whisper untruths in her head. The voices were soft at first, insisting that she was Rin and that her loyalties were to the Emperor, to Master Mag Mel. That her name was Rin and that she loved her Mistress Kazarina and Miss Sellon. That she swore undying loyalty to them and her other superiors, Master Gil, Master Airzel, Master Stoica and Mister Anubias. That they were all she had and all she wanted. The voices quickly rose into a crescendo, each one clamoring for her attention and her acknowledgement, to the point where she found herself almost believing them.

She shook her head wildly, struggling to hold on to her previous feeling. The pigtails. Think about the pigtails. It took Rin a moment to realize that she had spoken out loud. She kept speaking. "Come on, come on." There was something about her voice that was familiar, too, and comforting. "You've gotta…remember… Why does everything feel so wrong?" she whimpered, sinking to her knees.

She pressed her hands to her temples and pressed. The voices were deafening. She spoke to drown them out. "Come on, snap out of it," she whispered to herself. "Think…remember… Remember who you were before!" The memory from the roof flashed before her.

A white tiger clad in armor, standing upright was locked in a fierce battle against a royal purple centaur. A dragon roared above, snaking around a humanoid salamander with purple skeleton hands for wings. Blade against blade rang out, and it was hard to believe it might be possible to win.

She cried out to her Bakugan, but the cry was impossible to decipher now. Her Bakugan roared in response, and the centaur before it gave a loud cry, "Infernal shield!" Her tiger was beaten back, sent sprawling into the dirt with a grunt of pain.

"They seem to be more powerful than before," exclaimed the floating red dragon.

"But how can that be?" growled the tiger.

"Vortex dark flame!" screamed the salamander with wings, opening his maw. A sparking ball of fuchsia flashed purple before sending electric jets of the same neon color spiraling in the dragon's direction. The dragon growled, but retaliated without missing a beat.

"Boosted ultima!" The attacks met halfway.

She had been standing beside that boy in red as electric and fiery winds washed over them. They stared into a brilliant, sparking orb of raw power, strikes of lightning flashing off of it and burning the earth beneath it. They both grunted with the seemingly simple task of remaining upright; the winds were pushing so hard! She felt like just a little more and she would topple over.

Thankfully, the wind was dying down, and her pigtails fell back to their normal position. They were starting to come out. The day had been long and full of hair-related abuse Her skin was covered in grime and sweat. Her knees and palms were scraped and there was a stinging on her face that probably came from some sort of shrapnel wound.

The two opponents were still standing, looking absolutely at ease. Their barrage hadn't phased them in the slightest. Meanwhile, the dragon and tiger were wiped; it was obvious the way their shoulders sagged and their chests heaved. This battle wasn't going their way.

And after that… Rin flinched, grasping at the memory in desperation. "No, no, I'm so close!" she cried, curling even further in on herself. Her eyes pricked with tears. "After that…" Her voice came out broken and raspy.

It was no use. It wasn't there.

Tears fell from her eyes. No. She was so close. She was so close.

The voices started again, hissing, whispering, speaking, shouting, screaming. "Bitch!" "Moron!" "Useless!" "You can't do anything right!" "Insult to nature!" "Just give up!" "There's no redemption for you!" "Forget. Forget everything!" "Meaningless!" "You don't deserve to live!" "Failure."

She pressed her chest to her knees and her hands against her ears and screamed.

Her door, unfortunately, did not have the rage-expelling effect of a bang when it opened. Instead, it calmly swished to grant the stunned party entry. The silence from their end spoke volumes more than the slamming of a door could, despite the fact that it couldn't be heard over the intense wailing of the girl on the floor.

The desk in the corner of the room was overturned, the chair lying upside down against the bathroom door. The throw rug that had sat on the floor in the middle of the room had been kicked haphazardly against the bed. Blank papers were strewn everywhere, but the occasional paper with writing on it did appear, like fallen leaves after an early snowfall. The covers on the bed had been yanked off and the mirror beside the door was shattered. In the middle of it all sat Rin, screaming and sobbing and clutching her head as though it were causing her intense pain.

"What in the world?" Stoica exclaimed, appearing more shocked than irritated for once. Kazarina, though, was not as balanced.

"Rin!" she barked. "Explain!"

Rin let out a wail and ripped her shirt over her head, revealing spiderweb like scars that marked where lightning had touched her. She yanked it over her pigtails, balled it up and flung it at the woman. Kazarina sidestepped easily, shoved the group of foot-long metal pipes in her arms into Stoica's hands, and stalked over to the girl. Her face was alight with fury. Rin sobbed, pushed herself onto her back and shuffled backward. She stared up at her mistress in terror as her tears fell even faster, dripping from her chin and staining her with their glitter.

Kazarina's fist closed around her neck. Rin's hands flew up to her wrist, struggling as she grimaced. The witch pulled her to her feet and backhanded her across the face. Rin yelped. The girl flailed for a moment before falling to her side, leaning on the wall for support. She stared up at Kazarina with eyes filled with fear and hatred. Kazarina's temper flared. Another slap rang out, this one hard enough to bruise, and surprisingly, Rin let her head be forced to the side, reeling from the deep stinging in her cheek.

The tickle of warm liquid confused her. A hand lifted to her cheek and came away stained with a red smear. Rin stared in shock. The woman's claws had gotten her, and the whole side of her face was covered in blood.

She lifted her gaze, lips parted, eyes wide, and took in Kazarina's wrathful expression. Her blue skin was pale, reduced to the color of the sky on a winter day with sub-zero temperatures. Her eyes were bloodshot and practically glowing with ire. Rin had never seen her hair look more disheveled, stray strands sticking upward from her ponytail in a frizz. She looked murderous, and even more so when she saw Rin's pigtails.

The girl's breaths came in ragged, shaky gasps. Her chest heaved visibly with the only article of clothing on her torso being her bra, and the already suffocating heat became unbearable. Her cheeks flushed and sweat trickled down her back, and her cheek stung more angrily as salt water ran into the cuts. She swallowed hard.

Caught in the act—though what the act was, she had no idea. She knew it was wrong, but didn't know why.

"What do you think you're doing?" Kazarina demanded. Rin imagined a forked tongue slithering out of her mouth. She couldn't find her voice.

Kazarina took a step closer. Rin couldn't move even if she wanted to—her back was against the wall. Her breathing hitched.

The woman moved so quickly Rin had no time to react. Her claws raked against her belly, sending flecks of blood flying. Rin screamed and clutched her stomach, moving to double over but being stopped before she could. Kazarina had her by the throat again, silencing her gasp with a simple squeeze of her hand, and forcing the air out of her lungs with a savage slam against the wall. Rin's hands came up to push against her, but Kazarina was undeterred.

Her free hand ripped the hair ties from the girl's hair, her claws scraping her scalp and coming away bloody. Tears fell down Rin's face, stabbing her facial wounds, and her chest heaved with a unreleased sob. Her lungs felt tight, like a vacuum, and she clawed at the hand pinning her. Air air airairair!

"Get a hold of yourself, Rin," Kazarina snarled. She shook the girl harshly. "Whatever you're losing your mind over is worth nothing!"

Her grip let up enough for Rin to gulp in oxygen, but she didn't completely let go. Rin turned her traumatized gaze to the woman's face, her eyes scared and teary.

"You're pathetic," Kazarina spat.

That was the trigger. Rin felt a huge surge of loathing come over her. She hated this woman! How had she ever found her to be someone she idolized? She was a sick, controlling bitch that didn't treat anyone with even an ounce of respect besides her previous emperor. She worshiped the very ground he walked on without any regard to her own pride. That was 'pathetic'.

The heat beneath her skin intensified, and a high keening sound rose in her head. She grimaced, her back arching, as it sent ice picks driving into her brain. She wasn't even aware that she was screaming until her shoulders were racked with her air-deprived coughs, and then she found herself on the ground.

The pain was gone in an instant, and the heat vanished. She blinked. The keening was gone, too. She was suddenly struck by how cold she was and the strange lack of clothing on her upper body, and she pushed herself onto her hands and knees in confusion.

The room was clearer now, details finally apparent. Someone with gray skin in blue was staring at her from the corner, mouth open in surprise. The girl blinked, then turned her attention to the lady in white. The woman was practically glowing with her anger, and all of a sudden, it all came rushing back to her—Dan's disappearance, Stoica appearing in Bakugan Interspace, Dan's letter, the plane, Joe, her kidnapping, her torturous 'interrogation', battling Ace, and seeing Dan—

Seeing Dan.

Seeing Dan.

A cocktail of emotions assaulted her at that thought. Dan, who she had fought beside against Naga. Dan, who had been her first kiss. Dan, who had abandoned her. Dan, who had broken up with her.

Dan, her feelings for whom she was unsure of.

"You annoying pest!" Kazarina snarled. Runo rose to her feet, trying to ignore the feeling of foreboding that came with Kazarina's voice but relishing the returned sense of self that came with waking up. She glanced at her before quickly focusing her gaze on Stoica, keeping her peripheral vision trained on Kazarina. She didn't want to fall for her tricks again.

Kazarina had moved back a few feet, but Stoica had moved forward. Neither one of them looked to be in decent spirits—in fact, even Stoica appeared to be growing angry. But Runo forgot about them when Splight popped out on her shoulder.

"Runo, are you okay?" Splight demanded. Runo glanced at him.

"I'm fine. What about you?"

"Heads a little foggy, but I'm okay. I think Tigrerra is in worse shape, though." Runo paled, her eyes flicking to the bundle of blankets that was her bed. A bit of golden fabric was visible from this angle—her cape. Mira's cape. There was a secret pocket there that housed a clear plastic box with metal strips running down the edges. Tigrerra's prison.

Rin hadn't known Tigrerra was sentient when she put her in there. She had been told she was a prize won in battle, a Bakugan that belonged to one of the Brawlers. Something she could throw away if she wanted. But Runo knew otherwise.

Guilt hit her like a ton of bricks. She had imprisoned her friend, her best friend, in a plastic box so she couldn't speak to her and tell the truth. She was a failure.

And Mira… Mira! She remembered fighting Ace, and Mira… Mira came running toward her. What happened to her?

"Come here, Runo," Kazarina ordered. Runo glanced at her. The woman's voice was eerily calm and controlled and undoubtedly concealed murderous intentions. Runo dropped her gaze to the red gem on her chest—about eye level for her, considering how tall the Gundalian woman was.

"No."

"You have five seconds."

Runo glared at her, trying to think of a plan. She couldn't just throw down Splight to break apart the building; she didn't know where Dan and the other Vexos were. If she did something recklessly like that, she could injure one of them. And besides, her room was fitted with a security shield that kept Splight and any other Bakugan in ball form. However, that did mean that Kazarina and Stoica couldn't use their Bakugan to one up her, either.

That advantage being out of the question didn't help her much, though. The Gundalians still outnumbered and outgunned her just by being Gundalians. Kazarina stood between her and Stoica, and Stoica between her and the door. Even if she did, by some miracle, make it past Kazarina, Stoica would just shoot her with his lightning before she made it two feet. So running was out of the question.

She was out of options and out of time, and they all knew it. Her eyes turned in terror to Kazarina, whose face had stretched with a mirthless but no less evil grin. "Sleep tight, Runo," she hissed before lifting her hand and sending Runo, screaming, into the dark abyss of unknowing.

Oh, hey. It's July 27th. HAPPY BIRTHDAY EMPRESSPYRUS! x_x Oh geez. I need sleep. And then I can write what I've been waiting to write for YEARS.

Oh. I have, like, four chapters written in advance. You're just not gonna get them for at least 2 weeks between them. Because if I post them all at once and don't actually get other stuff written, well...you won't hear from me for, like, 3 months. So I'm gonna keep doing this.

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU EMPRESS PYRUS!

And to everyone who reviewed: THANK YOU! I LOVE YOU ALL!

Anyway, uh, please review? :D :D :D