Hello! This is a new fic that just popped up in my head. Please forgive me for my lack of updates on my other fic. I'm really sorry. I've got part of the next chapter for that done.

--------

We were heading back home from the airport, that day. Mother was driving, while Amane fawned over the present she had gotten from father, to remember him by while he was in South America, studying some Incan ruins.

"Look at it!" she told me. "Isn't it beautiful? I'm going to wear it every day, you know, until... until forever!"

Mother laughed as I scowled.

"Sure you are, honey." she said, patronizing.

"I am!" Amane huffed.

As soon as mother turned back to the road, I leaned forward to whisper to Amane,

"It's ugly."

"Nuh-uh." she murmured back.

"Yes it is. All the kids at school will laugh and make fun of you when they see you wear it."

"Mom!" she whined, "Ryou's being mean again!"

"Ryou," mother began, turning around fully, "What have I told you about saying mean things to your sister?"

"Not to." I muttered.

"Then why do you keep doing it?" she said, sounding tired.

"Because you and dad always treat her nicer than me!" I shouted.

"Ryou Bakura! We treat you exactly the same!" she yelled back.

Amane looked torn, not sure whether she should be smug or sad.

"No you don't! She gets all sorts of nice things! You and dad are always buying her stuff! How come I never get any cool souvenirs?!"

"Because you said you hated your father's work, and thought it was pointless!"

"I don't just hate dad's work, I hate him! I hate you! I hate everyone!"

Amane started crying."

"Amane?" mother questioned, "What's wrong?"

"You're yelling." she said.

"Oh, honey, Ryou's just acting spoiled. He's grounded when he gets home." mother looked at me, pointedly.

"O-okay." Amane smiled.

"I hate you!" I shrieked at her, "You're the spoiled one!"

"Ryou!-" Mother began, cut off by a sudden squeal of tires skidding.

There was a loud crash, and everything seemed to slow down. A green SUV rolled toward us. It hit the front of the car, on the driver's side. The door crumpled in and mother was crushed. Our car fell on its' side, as Amane, unbuckled, as usual flew up towards mother, hitting her head on the door, then falling, landing in the shattered glass of the window.

I don't know how long I sat there laying against the side door, staring at the back of Amane's seat, hearing trickling things and Amane's labored breathing. Sirens sounded and I heard glass crunching as paramedics picked their way through the wreckage.

A man leaned down in front of the vehicle, peering through the spider web-cracked windshield. He saw mother first, then looked away, knowing instantly that no one with those injuries could be alive. Next, he glanced down, spotting Amane and calling paramedics over. Looking back, I caught his eye. Our eyes met, and I knew that he was surprised. At what, I had no idea.

We rode to the hospital, Amane and I, in separate ambulances. I had been involved in the crash, but I was only scratched up a little. The doctor told me that I was okay, but my sister was going doing badly. They let me in to see her, as there was nothing they could do.

"Amane," I stopped. I couldn't think of anything to say. She was lying there wrapped in bandages, IVs pumping medicines into her.

She looked over at me. She stared for a second, and then opened her mouth.

"Ryou." she paused. "I'm so glad you came."

"Amane. ...I'm sorry, for-for what I said."

"It's alright." she smiled, weakly "I forgive you."

"Thank you."

It was quiet, for a minute, then Amane started crying.

"What's wrong?" I asked, worried.

"I'm dying." she said.

"I know."

"I don't want to die." she sobbed "I'll never get to see daddy again, or make another friend, or ride on a boat."

"Amane-"

"Daddy'll be really sad, and my friends will miss me, and grandma and grandpa, too"

I stopped to think. "Amane, I'll do all those things for you, and make sure that nobody stays sad."

"How?"

"If I act like you, and do all the things that you want to do, it'll be like you're still alive. I'll write you letters and send you pictures, so that you'll know what it's like. I'll wear daddy's present for you, every day, forever."

"Really?" she looked surprised, then happy.

"Yes."

"Promise, then."

"I promise, I'll live for you, Amane."

A doctor came in then, and I waited with Amane, holding her hand until she left.

---------------

"Class, we have a new student today." smiled the teacher.

"Hello! My name's Amane Bakura!"