Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy the second chapter.

Special thanks to Tet of 1999 for his knowledge of knives, boys, and beta reading this for me! He also suggested the title, so +9000 cool points for him.

Chapter 2 Playlist:

1. The Futile - Say Anything
2. Leave Me (Like You Found Me) - Wilco
3. This is Fucking Ecstasy - Say Anything
4. Impossible Germany - Wilco
5. Pot Kettle Black - Wilco

There was an awkward moment of silence between the two white haired figures in the alley, both refusing to move despite the freezing rain that was pummeling them as they stood immobile. "Aren't you dead?" Bakura managed to force out finally, tactlessly after a violent chill had traveled up his spine.

"So I've been told," she said, her voice cold. The girl's brown eyes flashed dangerously, and Bakura suddenly remembered that she was still holding that knife (not that the weapon worried him much; he had one of his own hidden on his person if the need for it did arise). She sighed then, her defiant stance lessening. "Can I correctly assume that you know my brother?"
Bakura could not fight the smirk that came to his face. Know him? Of course he knew him. He knew the brat better than anyone else. He had seen the inner workings of his mind; the very fabric of his soul. He did not just know him; in fact it was a bit insulting to equate him to a mere acquaintance. But he was certain, yes quite certain, that Amane was dead. He had seen it in Ryou's memories countless time, a young girl in a hospital bed. Hooked to machines, the heart monitor flat lined. He had seen this, known this. Yet, this girl stood before him, claiming to be the dead sister of his former host. He stared for a moment, watching as she narrowed her eyes at him. Oh, right. She'd asked him a question. "Yes," Bakura answered at length. "I know Ryou."
Amane nodded once, closing her knife and returning it to her pocket. "Sorry about your neck," she said, not sounding especially sorry at all. "It's just that, if you were Ryou, I wouldn't have wanted him to see me... At least, not like this. Not until I've showered and collected my thoughts so that I could convince him of the truth..." She trailed off. "So, I figured doing something out of character would have thrown him. Right?"

"I have my doubts he wouldn't have taken being threaten with a knife as well as I did," Bakura remarked, ignoring the edge of protectiveness for his -Jesus, Allah, Ra what was wrong with him?- Ryou that he heard in his voice.

Amane shrugged. She was staring at him quite openly.

"What?" Bakura demanded, her large eyes making him feel uncomfortable.

"You're like... you look like him," She was saying. "But not. Alike, yet different. Like you're...opposites."

"Thank you...?" Bakura said, uneasy still. All he could see in his mind was Amane's brother. His hikari -oh, fuck, it was no use- Ryou had been completely devastated by her death. Death, for Ra's sake. There was no way... and yet, this girl looked just like Ryou (there! ha!). A bit rougher around the edges, but once he'd correctly placed her accent he knew. This girl wasn't faking. She was nobody but who she claimed to be. Amane was the real deal, Ryou's little sister inexplicably back from the dead. Bakura scrubbed a hand over his face. "What are you doing here, exactly?"

"I came to find Ryou," Amane replied. "I just wanted to take a little time to become more familiar with the city..." She looked so sad suddenly, the look of pain that crossed her face so goddamn familiar that Bakura felt as if somebody had punched him in the gut. "It's been ten years... and the whole time I'd thought he was dead. Oh buggering hell, everything in my life is so fucked up..." She ran a pale hand through her hair. God, she looked too much like her brother. It was making him... he felt bad for her. Bakura felt somehow compelled to help the girl, even though he would undoubtedly pay for it later should Ryou ever find out.

Bakura felt his lips moving in reaction to her words, but he didn't comprehend the words until nearly a full minute after he said them. "Do you have anyplace to stay?"

"What?" Amane snapped.

"Well, I'm guessing you haven't got anywhere to stay tonight... And if you're desperate, you could crash on my couch..." Bakura was saying, feeling more ridiculous than he'd ever thought possible. "I can make some calls... Get you in touch with Ryou."

"Really?" Amane said, a smile gracing her face for the first time. "Thank you..." She trailed off, eyes questioning.

"Just call me Bakura," He muttered. "C'mon," Bakura said, motioning for her to follow as they made the relatively short walk back to his apartment. He sighed. What the hell was he thinking? Bakura briefly considered, for the second time in the hour, if he was suicidal but simply unaware. Ryou was literally going to kill him when he found out that not only was his darker half associating with his precious little sister, but that he'd offered to allow her to spend the night at his place. Oh yes, his hikari was certainly going to slaughter him. Murder him. Rip him apart limb from limb, burn the pieces, scatter the ashes, and throw a giant party once he was finished. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fucker FUCK.

"So," Amane said, shattering Bakura's internal swearing rampage. "How do you know Ryou?"

Bakura blanched. Well, you see, I'm actually a 3000 year old spirit who was housed in an ancient Egyptian artifact that your brother used to wear around his neck. From time to time I used to take control of his body in an ill-fated plot to bring about the end of the world. Needless to say, we're great friends. "Uh, you'd best let him answer that when you see him," he finally settled on, "It's a long story." He turned, leading the girl into a bland looking apartment complex. Bakura lead Amane inside, muttering a quick explanation that he lived on the third floor. As they began mounting the stairs, Bakura added, "You know, if it wasn't unavoidable... I'd almost prefer if you didn't mention me much to Ryou."

"Hates you then?" Amane said, not sounding especially surprised. As if hid sweet, friendly hik- Ryou made a habit of hating people.

Bakura shrugged. "It's not like I don't deserve it." She raised an eyebrow, but he chose not to elaborate. Clearing his throat, he stopped outside of the door to his apartment, unlocking it and motioning for her to step inside. He sighed dramatically, giving her a quick overview of the small apartment's layout. Bakura ran a hand through his somewhat knotted hair. "The bathroom is through there," He said pointing to the door nearest her. "The linen closet is inside of it, if you need a towel or anything. And if you manage to find anything edible in the kitchen, feel free to take it." They stood awkwardly, Amane adjusting the bag she carried over her shoulder (he'd only just noticed the bag... how long had it been there?). "I have to make a phone call," he finished lamely, before quickly shutting himself into his bedroom, frantically dialing one the of three phone numbers he knew by heart.

Three rings later: "Kiss and make up with Ryou yet?" Some greeting, Malik.

"Fuck off, Ishtar," Bakura said irritably. "We have a situation on our hands."

"Oh?" Malik suddenly sounded interested.

Bakura explained the sudden appearance of Ryou's long dead sister,while changing out of his rain soaked clothes. He finished with, "And she's in the other room... so what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"If there's such a thing as karmic retribution..." Malik said, laughing quietly to himself. "I have no fucking clue what to tell you, 'Kura."

"You're no help!" Bakura cried, exasperated. "Where's all your wise, psychology knowledge now, huh? Normally you're full of suggestions for fixing the brat and I, and now you choose to keep your mouth shut! I just want to know how to handle this situation in a way that it doesn't end in m- in Ryou bludgeoning me to death with the nearest blunt object!"

Malik snorted. "Look, I haven't really got much advice for you. Just call him. Say you need to see him."

"He'll hang up on me," Bakura protested, aware that it sounded like he was whining. And he was whining. This pissed him off, but it wasn't nearly as important as fixing the problem that had run headlong into him this evening.

"So threaten to stab some innocent bystanders or something," Malik said conversationally. "It doesn't matter so much as to how you get him there, just that you do. And once he sees that you've reunited him with his long lost sister, he'll have no choice-"

"Not now, Ishtar. We both know that nothing I could do will make him forgive me..."

" -but to forgive you-" Malik pushed on. For some reason unknown to Bakura, Malik was convinced that he could get Bakura and Ryou to reconcile. Bakura suspected that it might have had to do with

Malik's own stubborn refusal to meet up with Mariku, and that fixing up the relationship with another light and dark would somehow make that more bearable.
"Good bye, Malik-"

"And then you won't be pariah anymore! We could even been seen with you in public without later interrogation-"

"Good bye, Malik," Bakura repeated, clicking off the phone. He stared at it until the screen faded to black, before announcing to the room at large: "Fuck." What the hell was he supposed to do now? He closed his henna-colored eyes, resting his head against his white-washed wall. From the bathroom down the hall he heard the shower running. He was still trying to figure out his impulsive decision to take this girl in. He ignored the nagging feeling in his head that perhaps he had just done something nice for Ryou and his remaining family, instead opting to conclude that it was only because the girl had looked so sad in that alleyway when she mentioned thinking Ryou was dead.

This struck Bakura as odd. How the hell had these two siblings walked around for a decade thinking that the other was dead? Didn't modern medicine have ways of determining for sure whether of not a person was dead? This confusion perplexed him greatly. He walked out into his small, mostly bare living room. Other than the rather warn couch, the desk in the corner that remained largely unused, and the television, the room was empty. Certainly no signs that someone actually lived there. He took a seat on the worn sofa, scrubbing a hand over his face. While Malik concocted his ridiculous fantasy what ended with a reconciliation and everyone living happily ever after, Bakura recognized that there was the reality of this situation with Ryou to be dealt with. Ryou would not take kindly to Bakura's involvement in this whole affair. Exactly six months ago, after one of their typical arguments over Bakura's attempts to make things right with his former host, Ryou had become so furious that he had physically thrown his yami out of his home.

"Don't come back," Ryou had said, his voice steely and determined. "I don't ever want to see you again. Just..." and here he seemed to regain some of himself, acting not as the cold detached boy that Bakura had been growing used to in the past months, but the compassionate and sympathetic boy of the past. His eyes held a shred of sadness as his hand closed around the door handle. "Just go. Good bye."

Bakura blinked himself out of the memory. That had been the last time he'd actually seen his hikari -there was no point in fighting it anymore, he was incapable of changing his name now- and he knew that his attempt to contact him would not be received well.

And then, the other side of this sibling equation. He had no idea how Amane had even gotten to Domino, let alone how she wanted or when she wanted to see Ryou again. Bakura didn't want to set up anything that the girl would protest to. It seemed that, unlike her brother, Amane was rather... strong willed. She struck him as the type who did things her way, and any deviation from that plan was going to be met with a lot of kicking and screaming... and a possible knife fight. Bakura allowed the ghost of a smile to play on his lips. Even without her connection to Ryou, he found himself already nursing a grudging fondness for the little whitenette. It wasn't every day that someone had the guts to pull a knife on him, after all. If nothing else, she'd earned his respect with that little stunt... Bakura raised a hand to his throat, suddenly remembering his injury. It seemed to have stopped bleeding; nothing to be concerned about.

The bathroom door opened then, steam billowing out as Amane took a step outside of it. Her white hair was wrapped in a towel, revealing to Bakura's eyes three silver hoops in her left ear, as well as a stud in the earlobe. She wore a plain white t-shirt now, and a faded pair of jeans... this pair also torn at the knee. Her bare feet showed toenails painted black. She sighed, releasing her dripping hair from the towel. "Thank you," Amane said to Bakura, somehow sheepish. "For letting me stay here..." She cleared her throat at the awkward silence that followed, giving him a once over like he'd done her. His white hair, so like her own, gave off the impression of being neglected and knotty. His eyes were strange; a mixture of red and brown... And they peered at her with a kind of guarded curiosity. His whole posture seemed to imply aloofness, though she assumed that many could misconstrue this for a sense of arrogance. His clothes were different now, Amane noticed. A pair of dark blue jeans with a pale blue t-shirt. She flinched when she saw the cut on his neck; about three inches long, it stood, red and obvious, parallel to his chin, against the white skin of his throat. Shit.

Bakura shrugged in response to her gratitude. He realized, with an uncomfortable pang, that nobody had thanked him for anything in quite some time. "So..." He said after they stood staring for a while. "Earlier, you said you'd thought Ryou was dead..." He'd never been good with moments of awkwardness, and he couldn't deny his overwhelming curiosity. Bakura's default setting appeared to be bluntness to the point of near cruelty.

Amane nodded, pressing her lips into a thin line. "Mind if I sit? This story could take a bit..." He nodded, and she took a seat on the arm of the sofa. "Well, I guess the best place to start is the beginning, right?" At Bakura's nod, she took a deep breath. "Okay. Well, as I'm sure you know... or at the very least can tell... Ryou and I grew up in Britain. Mum's a native Brit, Dad's family relocated from Japan when he was a kid. So, that's the story behind our non-traditionally English names if you were curious. Anyways, they got married. Had Ryou, and then me two years later. We were pretty close as kids, Ryou and I; our house wasn't really close to any neighborhoods with kids our age. Anyways, when I was five, our Mum died. Some deadly infection or something. Our dad was totally devastated, and rather than take on the responsibility of raising his two kids, he withdrew into his work. Requested longer digs in places farther and farther away from home. He started leaving us with our grandmother whenever he was gone. My mother's mother, to be exact.

"Anyways, Gran was and my mum had been close, and mum's death really hit her hard. But she took Ryou and I in, and she did a pretty fair job being on her own and all. But..."

"But?" Bakura asked, sensing that the kindly grandmother was about to turn into a somehow less sympathetic character.

"But, Gran always favored me. I think because I reminded her of Mum. My whole family called me Amane, but Gran insisted on calling me Amy... Which is what my mum had originally wanted to call me. She always do things for me; buy me little extra gifts, sneak a sweet in my lunch for school... but I knew it was unfair. Ryou didn't get any special treatment. Anyways, whenever my dad came back home, Gran was always reluctant to let me stay with him. She'd send Ryou off without a backward glance, but was always less than eager to let me return to my home with him. More than once they argued over it, my dad and Gran. I didn't really understand; I was only about seven when it started. So, I never really suspected that anything was wrong..." She paused, rubbing her eyes.

"Anyways, not long after my eighth birthday, Ryou and I attended a friend's birthday picnic. It had started to rain, ruining the party, so the mothers in attendance decided they would take all of the children home. So, we were loaded into cars and drove off. But the rain got so heavy, it made it hard to see. One of the cars swerved. The others crashed into it... About five cars total. Several ambulances were called. Kids were taken to three different hospitals in all the mess... Ryou and I were separated," Amane said, clearing her voice as some emotion leaked into her tale. go to

"The next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital, nearly three weeks later. I'd been in a coma," She said, her voice quieter. "And my gran told me that Ryou hadn't survived the crash. I was crushed... The doctors said my recovery went unmistakeably slower after I knew. It took me nearly a year to be able to walk again. It was a terrible time, and to top it off... Dad quit calling. He stopped writing. It was just me and Gran from then on... and it went less than smoothly, tell the truth. She decided that she would be my mother then. I didn't take well to it; from the time I was ten it was nothing but fights. She wasn't my mother, I'd insist, my mother was in Heaven with my brother and she was nothing more than a bossy grandparent. This pissed her off to no end, let me tell you. She became overbearing and strict. I suddenly found myself barred from leaving the house except to attend school. I could never see friends, never attend dances or parties. I started rebelling around thirteen...I'd suffered a lot of emotional issues as adolescence hit. And, like a stupid kid, I ignored them. Figured that my past trauma was reason enough... I started to do things to purposely piss off my gran." At this she smirked, pointing to the piercings in her ear, "These never ceased to rile her up." Amane laughed, a barking humorless laugh.

"At sixteen I ran away from home. I got myself emancipated and moved to London on my own. It wasn't easy, trying to make it on the money of a part-time job as a waitress while I finished school. I just needed to complete my A Levels, and then I could take time to work and save money to go to University. But it was hard... I fell in with a pretty bad crowd, selling drugs to keep myself afloat. And eventually using the drugs, to balance me out. I dropped out of school, I lost the place I rented, and did a lot of things I am not proud of while I was out on the streets. Eventually, I was hospitalized after I got into a pretty bad fight with four thugs..."

"Four?" Bakura repeated in disbelief. This Amane might have been tougher than a lot of girls her age, but her skinny frame was not going to win her any fights even with that knife of hers, especially when she was so outnumbered.

"Yeah, I was stupid to piss them off. Mushrooms do stupid things to your mind, I thought I was invincible. My damaged ribs and concussion were a decent reminder for a time of just how mortal I am," She said with a shrug. "Anyways, the hospital called Gran. And she took me home, nursed be back to health... I detoxed, which was painful. Gran was surprisingly kind, giving me a lot of space and rarely ever enforcing anymore rules that would keep me from having a life outside her house. After I finished school this passed summer, Gran told me that she was very sick. Cancer. She didn't have a lot of time..." Amane struggled to keep her voice calm now. "And then she told me she had to 'confess her sin' to me...

"My gran told me that, after ten years of thinking otherwise, Ryou was still alive. He'd survived the crash all those years ago with nothing more than a few stitches and a broken arm. But he'd been taken to another hospital, and she couldn't bear to leave my side should I wake from the coma. So, my father was called to collect Ryou. And when he called my grandmother about me... She lied to him. Claimed that I had died in the crash. He was distraught, so much so that he didn't even want to see me. He asked my grandmother to arrange a funeral that he would not attend. My gran, feigning her own distress, begged him to take Ryou with him when he returned to work. Said that he reminded her too much of me, and that she would be unable to care for him any longer. So, my father took my brother and left England without a backward glance.

"And I woke up two days later, only to be told by my manipulative grandmother that my brother had died. And she allowed me to think this for ten years, claiming that she couldn't bring herself to love Ryou. Ryou wasn't enough like my mother to be worthy of her love, she'd said. Just me. Just me, just her little weak Amy..."
"So, upon hearing this, I demanded to know where my brother was. Gran claimed that he and my father had moved around a lot, something about trouble being caused wherever Ryou attended school, but that the last place she recalled them moving to was a place called Domino City. So, I left her. I got on the first plane out of London... and here I am." Amane looked up at Bakura, attempting to gauge his reaction.

"Shit," Bakura muttered. "That is so... sickening. Who does that to people?" But even as the words left his mouth, Bakura knew he'd seen worse. Done worse. Much much worse... Yet this girl, this vulnerable, innocent-looking girl had gone through such horrors at the hands of her own family. And this made him angry, so desperate to just do something to help her.

And that urge made him confused. Since when was he compassionate?

Amane shrugged. "So, I'm looking for my brother Ryou. And you know him. You can help me, right?"

"Yes," Bakura said, a familiar feeling of uneasiness settling over him as the conversation turned to her brother. "It won't be easy... You can't exactly just call him. He wouldn't believe it. He'd think it was some kind of a joke, or convince himself he's crazy."

"I know," Amane whispered, running a hand through her still-damp white locks. "Fuck..."

"But I can try and arrange it for him to see you face to face," Bakura said quickly, desperate to keep the look of defeat off of her face. "He'd likely take it better that way."

Amane nodded, yawning.

"Why don't you get some sleep...?" Bakura said, unsure if the words would come out sounding right. Amane just looked exhausted, and something in him, some weird feeling of protectiveness that he hadn't felt since his own childhood back in Egypt when he'd had a little sister of his own, told him that suggesting sleep would be a wise choice. She nodded a second time. Bakura stood, leaving and returning with the extra bedding he kept in the linen closet without a word. "Good night..." Bakura said, still feeling strange.

"Night..."

Bakura walked into his room, flipping on the lights. He cursed to himself for a good moment, reliving moments of Amane's story. He just could not understand how family could do that family. Granted, having lost his family when he was barely eight, he didn't have a clear picture of a healthy functioning family in his head. He sighed and then pulled his small mobile phone from his pocket for the second time that night. He dialed one of the other three numbers he knew. The phone lines crackled, and the first ring trilled.

"Hello?" Came Ryou's pleasant voice. He sounded untroubled, Bakura noted. He felt a moment of guilt when he realized it was all about to change. He was going to invade Ryou's life again, mucking things up, and causing him to hate him even more.

"Hikari, I-"

And the line went dead.

Growling, Bakura hit redial.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three....

And then finally, "What the hell do you want?"

Bakura rolled his eyes at the unsuccessful attempt on Ryou's part to sound threatening. Even though Ryou was hardly the meek, quiet boy he'd been when Bakura had inhabited the Millennium Ring, he still failed to be able to pull off threatening. "I need to talk to you. In person."

"Too bad," Ryou responded, angry. "I told you to stay away from me."

"And I have, and will continue to do so after tomorrow if you wish," Bakura said plainly. "It is important."

"Look, I am not helping you. Sorry, call someone else."

Sighing internally, Bakura recalled Malik's suggestion to threaten someone. Doing his best to impersonate the threatening tone he'd conditioned Ryou to fear during his time residing in the boy's body (he had to regretfully admit to himself months ago that the level of malice in that voice was mostly Zorc's doing. He could muster up a decent growl, but it didn't have quite the effect that it used to), "If you don't agree to meet with me tomorrow, you're little group of friends will start to 'disappear' one by one," Bakura let the (empty) threat hang in the air for a moment. "Starting with the blond brute and working my way down to the Pharaoh's light."

There was silence on the other line, nothing but the crackle of patchy cell service in this area to indicate that Ryou hadn't hung up a second time.

"Hikari?" Goddamn this voice needs work, Bakura thought irritably. This couldn't scare children.

"Don't call me that," Ryou snapped, obviously irritated. He seemed to be debating Bakura's seriousness in these threats. It was obvious he had erred on the side of caution when he responded, voice icy, "Fine, I'll meet with you. At my place. Be there at three, and make it worth my time." He hung up.

Fucking fucker fuck.

Thank you so much for reading! Please review!