A Letter for You

Disclaimer I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or any of the characters in this story. (It's unfortunate, but that's the way the ball bounces . . . wow, that was cheesy sounding . . .)

Author's Note Hi, everyone! Welcome to "A Letter for You." I have been working on this fanfic for a while now; I really hope you enjoy it! It was really hard to write though, because every time I sat down to type it, I felt really hyper! (darn sugary-goodness . . .) This is my first angst fic, so I hope I was able to capture Bakura's mood correctly nn;; Well, just so you know a little more of what is going on, it's a OneShot, POV (personal point of view) of Ryo Bakura's feelings of the loss of his mother and sister, but this fic is mostly based about his feelings more toward his sister. He is trying to write a letter to her, but seems to be suffering from writer's block (like I was for a long time with this fic! XD). This all takes place before Yuugi solves the Millennium Puzzle and there are no spoilers, so not to worry! Well anyway, enough of this, and on with the story! Please enjoy!

Have you ever felt

like you were

falling

With

no one to catch

you

except for the emptiness

in your

heart?

IiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiI

"Dear Amane . . ."

This was all I had come up with for the past few hours. Dear Amane . . . Believe it or not, these words are very powerful, despite the briefness of them. She was my dear sister . . . Amane. She left me all alone . . . to fall. Falling. I am falling. That's to say, the least. She's gone. Forever. I can no longer see her shining face or her radiant smile. I can no longer hear her blissful cries of joy or catch her crystalline tears of sorrow. Her body has surrendered to the demon christened death; her soul lifted to the heavens by choirs of angelic beings . . . and leaving me behind . . . to fall . . . to fall into the dark abyss of eternal misery. I am alone to fall.

"Dear Amane . . ."

I really don't know what to add after that. There was so much I wanted to tell her that I could not stir up the courage before to tell her. Not even on her deathbed . . . I couldn't even tell her that I loved her. My own sister! Actually, both Amane and my mother died on the same day. Their funeral was only last month . . . I still mourn for them. You may find this pathetic for me, a boy. However, Father told me that even the strongest man cries every once in a while. True strength comes from our real emotions, and not our masks, he tells me. He understands my hardships, because he as well is suffering from the same nightmare as I. You know what; I believe I'll start this letter out with the basics:

"Hello, sister. How are you?"

Hmm. Oh dear. Is that all I can say to my little sister? There has to be more, I know it. It is all locked up inside of the deepest and darkest parts of my heart . . . I guess it is time to unlock everything . . .

"There are so many things I want to say to you, but unfortunately, I never got the second chance that I needed. But thanks to Father, he suggested that I should write a letter to you and tell you everything that I feel . . . everything that I wanted to say to you, but could not. Recently, Father had gone on an expedition to Egypt recently. He sent some very nice postcards. One was the sphinx, I'm sure you would have loved it. I know how much you like Egypt. Guess what else is quite interesting? When Father came home, he gave me a gift; it was an antique. He bought it from an Egyptian merchant and thought I might like it. You might have liked it better, you always seem to appreciate ancient artifacts like that more than me; You know me, I rather enjoy playing tabletop role playing games! But this was from Father to make me feel better about . . . what had happened to you and Mother last month. He claims it is 3000 years old and is called the Millennium Ring; an interesting item actually. I wear it around my neck like a pendant, but it's pretty big! It's supposed to be a good luck charm, but I don't really know if it is yet. If it was a good luck charm . . . I wish I could have had this ring last month . . . to prevent what had happened . . . if only . . . suddenly . . . I feel . . . so . . . tired . . ."

IiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiI

"Ryo, please come with me."

On that dreadful day, my father implored me with glassy, indigo eyes. I had never seen him like that in my whole life; so depressed, so vulnerable. In a sort of trance, I nodded absent-mindedly and followed my father out the door of our house, and into the vessel of transportation that would take us to a sight I would have never thought imaginable. Inside the car, was silence. I sat next to Father and neither of us spoke. I was apprehensive, no, I was too frightened to ask what had happened that was so disastrous. I wanted to know, but then, I didn't. I had to ask what was going on. Reluctantly, my lips slightly quivering before releasing any sound, I had been able to manage a question of concern to escape my lips. We had stopped briefly before a red light at an intersection, giving my father enough time to answer. Staring miserably down the street in front of him, he answered with a grim and dreary response, answering slowly as if he was still trying to comprehend what was happening, his voice barely a whisper.

". . . it's your mother . . . and Amane . . . lost control of the car . . . and struck a tree . . . your mother . . . died instantly . . ."

Right after saying this impossible reply, I gaped in horror with my mouth open in shock. How could this be? Mother was . . . dead? I refused to believe. I couldn't! Mother was always there for us! She said she always would . . . always. I thought of her to be invincible . . . perhaps I was wrong. But now, she was gone. Gone! Oh, God! The thoughts that ran through my head, I felt the hot blood rushing to my face. I could swear I would burst and die as so my beloved mother did. "But what about my sister, Amane? Where is she?" I hadn't realized that my thoughts had flowed instantly from my mouth. I had become startled when I saw that my father had allowed a heartfelt tear run down his face from his left eye and fall onto the midnight black blazer he wore that day. Black . . . how appropriate that was . . .

"In . . . the hospital. She is in critical condition . . . and the doctors don't know if she will live or not."

My heart stopped. Amane is in the hospital? She's alive? Or barely. I could not help but notice my father wipe away at his tired, wet eyes before continuing through the now green light.I wondered if it was at all possible that we could get there on time. Time . . . I believe it may have stopped that day, for the sadness felt more like a lifetime. The feeling was bitter in my heart . . . my head . . . my body. I lost my mother just moments ago . . . I will not lose Amane! Wait-what am I thinking about? Amane won't die, she can't! What a nightmare this was. If only I could wake-up . . .

"She's in this room, sir."

The kind nurse that led Father and I through the hospital finally had us stop before an isolated door, which was the only one on its side of the shadowy hallway. She placed a slender hand upon the metallic doorknob and began to gradually turn it. At that moment I wanted to grab her hand away from that gateway that may lead me to horrific images and give me unwanted memories. She looked at me sympathetically and ceased twisting the knob. Perhaps she could see my thoughts through my sienna brown eyes. The nurse asked me if I was ready, and Father rested a comforting hand upon my slim shoulder. I looked up into his glassy orbs with my eyes of confusion. He nodded at me slowly while his grip on my shoulder became harder; apparently he was hesitant to enter the room as well, but there was courage in him . . . I admired him, his will. I closed my eyes for a split second. I had no choice. Avoiding this was inevitable. I had to be brave . . . for Amane; I had to face the truth eventually. And this was, unfortunately, eventually. I felt my eyes well with tears, but forcing my eyelids open, I nodded confidently at my father, forcing back those tears which wanted to be released. Father mouthed "We're ready" at the nurse, and she nodded gently in return. Twisting that terrifying doorknob again, the nurse opened the door to another world for me; a world I was hoping to never see.

". . . Amane?"

The room was quiet . . . maybe even peaceful. I wouldn't know, all I had felt was chaos and utmost fear. The walls were painted a pale periwinkle, the floors were tiled an unclean white, the grime most likely from filthy shoes and spilt food trays. The ceiling lights were a dim goldenrod, they had barely made a difference in the darkened room. Two clean beds lied in there; one was unoccupied, though the covers were crumpled. Had the occupant of the bed went for a stroll around the hospital maybe? Had they gone home? Home . . . I hoped that this crisis would end with a somewhat happy ending-with Amane included. "Amane . . . Amane?" Breaking from my thoughts, I had recognized a familiar, petite body underneath the off-white covers of the second bed. The figure was hooked up to many wires and tubes that were connected to fluids and such medical equipment. No movement was seen, except for the very tiny rises of the body's chest every few seconds. As though I was in some sort of trance, I made my way slowly to the fragile-like being. I could hear my father's footsteps behind me as I crept over cautiously to my sister. My movements stopped. Before I knew it, I was towering over my sister who was barely clinging to life. My father's breathing heaved heavily upon my neck; was he as afraid as I was now? I reluctantly bowed my head down to see Amane's face. It was pale, so as my complexion. The only difference of hers was the red blood tinged across it. The doctors had obviously tried to wipe most of it off, but blood is blood; it stains. Her ivory locks were in a mess of ribbons, caressing her china-like face and covered a majority of the pillow her head lay upon. Her mouth was formed into a thin line, her previously lush lips were shriveled bitterly and tainted crimson. I'm sorry to say that her eyes were closed, because they were such a beautiful color, I could gaze at them for hours if I had the chance. Alas, I felt misery; a broken little china doll . . . that was what she had become.

"Son, I'll be back in a few moments. I'm going to see where . . . your mother . . . is."

Father choked back tears. I couldn't blame even a strong-willed man like him to feel the need to cry. I tried to fight back tears myself, but could not help let one escape down my cheek. He gently removed it from my face with one of his well-defined fingers. He gave me a brief hug, and told me Amane will be okay, and mother is in a better place. A better place . . . that's what they all say. With his finishing words, he released me and gave me a supportive pat on the back, and exited the room. "Click." The door had shut behind him. It was now just Amane and I. Just the two of us . . .

"Bro . . . ther . . ."

Her once wide eyes began to gradually open, revealing a small amount of deep indigo. "Amane!" I gasped in both shock and relief. I looked quickly from side to side, indecisive of what to do. She was alive! My sister! She could defeat death! . . . She had to. I gave her a double-take and gaped at her, managing a grin to take over my opened lips. I gasped terribly, as if I had been running miles upon miles just to see her . . . maybe I was. A weak smile appeared to tug on the corners of her little mouth. Her indigo eyes were only half opened, but were still remarkable and could be a much more gorgeous site than any priceless sapphire or amethyst. Only a small spark of life shone in them, however Amane was strong; she would never give into death so easily. She opened her mouth as to say something, but I knew she didn't have the energy to do so. I implored her to not say a word, she needed her rest. A delicate, pale hand appeared from under her covers and silently beckoned me to sit on the bed next to her. I forced a half-smile upon my face and whispered a yes to her as I gently took a seat on the spot she had been motioning her hand. We gazed into each other's eyes for a moment which seemed more like a lifetime. Yes, I had wanted to do this for a long time. Her indigo orbs, identical to Father's. My sienna orbs are from Mother, our parents dwelled in us both. We were seeing our parents through our eyes. But the point was, we were seeing each other as well.

"Brother . . . please . . . hold me."

Amane struggled just to say these words, and now she was attempting to sit up, and failing miserably. I gracefully took her small frame into my arms, surrounded in wires and cords, but we didn't care; we were together, and that was all that mattered to us. I held her head close to my chest, and felt her small, and possibly last breaths of life. She sat on top of my lap as I held the back of her head with one hand, my fingers entangled in her silky locks of lily-white. My other hand held her tiny waist with consideration; she sat there as a silent child. Peaceful it was. I thought I would never get that chance again, to be at peace with Amane. We just sat there, our breathing in sync we each other. My dear sister Amane . . . I never want to face life without you. I want you to always be there for me, because I promise to always be there for you. So many things I wanted to say, but I could not. The silence was good enough for us . . . just the two of us . . . two beating hearts as one. Yet, after awhile, Amane's heart was unable to keep up with my own.

"Beep . . . . . . . .beep . . . . . . ."

Startled, I took notice of the heart monitor. The pace of the readings was slowing down; Amane's heart rate began to gradually decrease. I stared horrified at the chart, hoping that it was wrong . . . it had to be. I quickly lowered my head to be looking directly into two beautiful orbs of indigo. They were narrow and the life in them flickered on and off; it was a battle between life and death . . . it was Amane's battle. A warm, pale hand held my cheek. My eyes widened in surprise. Though my sister was on the brink of death, her touch was so warm . . . so sincere. Hypnotically, I placed my hand that was once entwined into her hair upon her hand, which felt so tender on my flesh. I used my other arm to cradle her body now, as if she was an infant. The heart monitor's beeps began to become less frequent, so I began to shake with fear of what was to become, yet not losing eye contact with my younger sister. My bottom lip quivered, it couldn't be helped; I'm such a coward! I wanted to be strong for her, but tears were beginning to blurry my vision. Through the blur, I could still make out Amane's caring smile; she smiled . . . but why? Amane . . . don't go . . . I whispered to her as I fought my hardest to keep my tears back. Please . . . don't leave me . . . I need you. Stay with me . . . you have a life ahead of yourself . . . you have to fight! Please! Amane! I gritted my teeth so hard, trying not to cry out. Her eyes began to slowly close, the life in them quickly disappearing. I can't lose you . . . Amane . . .

"Big brother . . . isn't it a beautiful day to die?"

What? How could she-why would she say-

Amane . . .

Her eyes closed all the way. The heart monitor showed a long, green line across the screen and made a long noise without a pause. I watched her . . . horrified. She had ignored my pleas to not give into expiration. She lied there lifeless, pale and fragile. Amane had died in my arms.

"Move-move-move!"

The doctors and staff began to fill the room and shouted commands and grabbed equipment. I wanted to scream . . . but I was so heart-broken, I just couldn't. No matter how noisy the room was, it did not compare to what I heard-chaos . . . despair. Those two emotions overcame everyone and everything in that hospital room. I felt arms pull me away from my sister, or at least . . . her body . . . her lifeless body. I just could not believe what had been happening. I somehow ended up behind the whole mass of doctors, and I watched the whole scene in horror. "Three!" "Three!" No matter how man times they shocked her or what not, she could not have been brought back. "We can't bring her back!" "We can try!" I could barely make out what they were saying, because my head began to become painful; it wasn't normal- it was almost like something was trying to rip out of my head-to be free from being locked up inside . . . that something was my sorrow. Backing away from the intensity of the situation, I crouched over the vacant bed on the other side of the hospital room . . . and before I knew it, a flood of diamond tears flowed from my sienna orbs, down my pale face, and soaked into the cotton of the off-white sheets. "She's gone . . . gone . . . Amane is . . . dead . . ." My mind repeated this phrase like a broken record player in my head. "Dead . . . Amane is dead . . ." Suddenly, the room around me began to spin. I clutched my hands to my head and gripped my locks of ivory. My vision blurred, and no, it was not from the tears stinging my eyes. I slowly dropped to my knees, suddenly feeling extremely weak. I gripped the sheets of the bed and twisted them through my frustration and confusion. I was breathing heavily, the doctors' voices dying, my vision darkening . . . I was losing control . . . losing my consciousness . . . I fell into complete darkness . . . I was falling . . . and there was no one there to catch me.

A few days later, a funeral took place for Mother and Amane. They were both buried next to each other, their graves decorated with white lilies and red and black roses. It was beautiful, and the dress Amane was wearing; A long, silk, white gown. She was the most amazing site I had ever seen, so beautiful . . . I cried immediately when I saw her. From that moment on, I had realized that my life would never be the same again.

IiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiI

Ah! Oh no! How long have I been asleep- forty five minutes? And it is already almost 10:30 at night, I better hurry, it's getting late! Why is the letter wet? Did I cry in my sleep? I must have done so . . . I hope Amane won't mind. I am constantly confronted with the same nightmare during the night and day. It will never end; it's not fair! Oh, Amane, why? Maybe . . . I should finish this letter before it gets any later . . .

"Amane, I have something to tell you, my dear sister. I love you. I always have. I had never directly said it to you, please forgive me. I had always felt too shy to tell you. Except for now. I feel much better already. To tell you the truth, I feel almost . . . happy. It's as if the sadness had just all drained away. I feel new! A rebirth! Oh, Amane, thank you! I feel so much better now that I can write to you! Amane, you looked so beautiful in that dress on your funeral day. . . if only I could see you in it alive. I wish you could have seen yourself in it too. You would have been so happy. I will keep that memory . . . and all of the other memories of you and Mother . . . the good and the bad. I feel stronger now. Thank you again, sister. I must say good-bye for now, but I promise you . . . I will write to you again soon . . . I promise. Perhaps, I now have something to catch me when I fall . . . hope.

Love Always,

Your dear brother, Ryo

Well, that should just wrap up about everything. I can't wait to send Amane another letter. I feel like there is more to say. So much more! But thanks to her, I no longer feel miserable . . . and am no longer falling. Writing down my thoughts . . . even in a letter . . . it really helped. It truly did. What now? My eyes are starting to sting again, I guess I'm about to cry. But no . . . these are not tears of sadness . . . I'm . . . happy. I'm smiling . . . Amane. I can sense it, good things will happen soon! I know it! Things will get better . . . they have to. Oh, yes, one more thing to add before this letter is sealed up:

"P.S. –I have decided . . . the Millennium Ring is definitely a good luck charm."

That's it, I hope you guys liked it n.n I had gotten the idea to write this during Religion class at school (talk about random, but I bet most people get their ideas at random times!) By the way, about Amane and Mrs. Bakura dying in a car crash, it's true. I didn't make that up. It actually says so in the official Japanese character guidebook! I just wanted to let you guys know that nn Thanks so much for taking the time to read this, I'm always happy when people read my stories, and I am even more happy when they actually like it too XD I'm just kidding, but I'm serious when I say that I truly appreciate it when people read and review nn Thank you all once again for taking the time to read this! Bye for now!