A quick note to all people who haven't read the manga: In this story, the concept of "rent" is brought up. In manga book 6, when Bakura is first introduced to the Spirit living in him, the Spirit tells him that as payment (or, "rent" as he calls it) for living within Bakura's body, he grants Bakura's wishes. Bakura never realized that the Spirit was doing this. Also, the Spirit has a way of twisting the wishes:in the manga, Bakura had wished (without realizing there was an evil Spirit within him who would grant it)to be able to play games with his friends forever. To grant this, the Spirit sealed all his friends' souls into lead figurines, so they'd be part of his games always.

a Light from Beyond:

a Wish in the Dark

Bakura sat in his armchair, staring off into space. Alone. He was used to the silence by now. It had been years since he had lived with anyone. He was always alone, and he was accustomed to it. But on nights like this, the empty space of the apartment seemed cold and harsh. He only a had a few projects to work on, which he knew he should work on, considering how quiet evenings to himself like this were rare. However, he had been working since he had left school, and he felt he needed a break.

With a sigh, Bakura picked up the newspaper and scanned the headlines. He did not normally read the paper; his own life was depressing enough, without his reading about the disheartening troubles happening around the globe.

"Surely something good has to be happening somewhere," Bakura muttered under his breath as he flipped through the paper, looking for the elusive uplifting article. "Or not…"

Bakura set the paper back on the table beside the chair. As he stood, his eyes were drawn to the date in the top corner of the paper: 2 September. Bakura blinked, looked at the date again. It had not changed.

"That's right…" Bakura mumbled to himself, "Today's my birthday." None of his friends had remembered; they never did. This time, he did not think badly of them; how could he blame them for forgetting his birthday if he barely bothered to recall it himself anymore?

Bakura brightened suddenly, as he said aloud to himself, "It's my birthday! Maybe Dad'll come home; he used to always come home on my birthday." He glanced over at the clock; his face fell. It was close to seven, and it was dark already.

Bakura looked toward the door of his apartment, almost expectantly, for two whole minutes. Sighing, Bakura admitted to himself, "Dad won't be home today. He hasn't come home for years; he's too busy with his museum affairs." He hasn't been home to see me since the birthday he gave me the Millenium Ring… Bakura trudged back to his room, where his desk, littered with paper and assignments, awaited his return. "Forgotten and alone on my birthday…as always."

He chewed on the end of his pen, wondering what to say.

With a sigh, Bakura pushed his paper away and pulled over a sheet of looseleaf and started writing.

\

Dear Amane,

How are you and mom doing? Your brother is doing fine.

School was uneventful today. There are a lot of projects I'm supposed to be getting done, but I'm writing to you instead. Nothing much happened at school, besides homework. The gang went over to Yugi's after school, as usual, but I didn't feel like tagging along today.

Today was my seventeenth birthday. But no one remembered. I didn't even realize what day it was until I glanced at the newspaper date. I'm still alone in my apartment; Dad hasn't written yet. I haven't heard from him in a while.

I miss you all, but you most of all, Amane. I hope you had a great day. Maybe you can come see me sometime.

Sincerely,

Ryou

\

Bakura put down his pen and carefully moved the paper aside. Grabbing his project paper from his homework pile, he began staring at the blank page once more.

An hour came and went at a slow, dragging crawl.

Bakura skimmed over the words he had written so far. In one hour, he had managed to force out one paragraph. One.

"At this rate, I'll never be finished," Bakura grumbled, "and this one's due tomorrow." He yawned, stretching, and glanced at the clock: eight ten. "Time yet to write another paragraph at least." He settled into his chair and picked his pen back up.

His gaze left his paper, settling on the picture of his sister. She smiled at him happily from within her frame, her eyes bright and filled with an innocent light. The sunlight reflected on her hair, making the impression of a halo encircling her head. His mind wandered, strolling easily down a path taking the opposite direction of his paper.

Wrenching his gaze away, he looked down at his paper. Still one lonely paragraph on the mountain of white. Bakura attempted to focus on what he was trying to say, but it was impossible. His eyes kept returning to the picture on his desk.

With a sigh, he dropped his pen back onto the desk and stood up. Yawning, he pushed in his chair and moved over to his dresser.

Mechanically, he switched into his pajamas, then went into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He stood in front of his desk, looking at the unfinished paper; he assured himself, "There's no point in keeping myself up, staring at an almost-blank page. I'll go to bed now, and finish it in the morning, before school. I work better in the morning anyway."

His eyes returned to Amane's smiling face. He smiled slightly, almost nervously, back at her and reached forward to turn off the lamp.

The apartment settled into shadows, embracing the night. A few gentle shafts of moonlight crept in from the window, tenderly illuminating the star-designed blanket on Bakura's bed in silvery light.

Bakura pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, the moonbeams lovingly adding a final layer to the blankets covering the white haired boy.

Before he shut his eyes to sleep, Bakura whispered into the darkness of the apartment, "Goodnight, Amane. Wherever you are."

His eyes closed and his mind conjured an old memory of Amane, watching her run through the yard behind their old house. He remembered it as well as if it were yesterday. Amane had been gathering "flowers," or at least, what she considered flowers. To any adult, they were weeds. There were the little white Clover flowers, and the purple Clover flowers, the yellow Dandelions, purple Johnny Jump-ups, and various other plants that grew with colorful petals that Bakura could not name, though Amane knew the name of every one.

She had run, laughing around the yard, stopping only to stoop and tenderly pick a flower, apologizing to the flower all the while, then dashing off to another clump. Her hands fiercely gripping her sizable bouquet, Amane had dashed over to Bakura and sat next to him on the back step, deftly twisting the flowers into crowns and necklaces.

At her insistence, Bakura had tried to make something with the flowers for her, as she showed him how to twine the stems. Once he finished, much to his dismay, as he held it up to show it to her, it had fallen apart.

"I-I'm sorry, Amane. I guess I did it incorrectly," Bakura had said, trying to quickly retrieve the fallen pieces.

Laughing happily, Amane had taken the pieces from him and carefully fixed the gaps and placing the string around her neck as she said, "It's okay, Ryou." She had picked up her purple-and-white Clover crown and put it in Bakura's hair, saying, "I'll make sure you'll never need a flower crown. Whenever you need one, I'll make one for you."

"Thank you, Amane."

Amane had smiled at him, allowing the remaining flowers to cascade over the steps in a waterfall of petals. She had wrapped her arms around him as she leaned on him and she said, "Whatever you can't do, Ryou, I'll do. And whatever I can't, you will, right?"

Bakura had smiled, "Sure, Amane." He hugged her back, running his fingers through her hair.

"That way, together, we'll be able to do anything," she had whispered as she settled contented against him, her eyes closed.

Bakura opened his eyes again and stared into the darkness of his apartment. The rosy glow and warmth of the memory faded slowly. He shut his eyes again, this time seeing only darkness. A small tear leaked out of the corner of his eye.

"Amane…" he whispered. He fought against the tears as he said quietly, "I wish I could see her…"