A/N: Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me …

4. Blood on Fire

Young blood's on fire –

Tomadoi wo nugisutete hashire.

Get back your true hearts!

-- From Blood on Fire by AAA

Amane was glad not all legends about vampires were true. Take the one about how they couldn't go into places they hadn't been invited, for example. It would've made her life so very difficult to be forever barred from Ryou's apartment.

There were some things the legends had got right, though. Some were good, and some were … not so good. Blood drinking was one that was icky but necessary, though not nearly as crazed as movies, books and campfire stories would have people believe.

At least, she thought as she climbed the fire escape and peered in through the window, I only have to do this once a month. Funny how the finer details of the whole lunar cycle thing got neglected in Dracula.

Blood pacts were another neglected aspect of vampirism. The media pedalled various images of vampires, though the most long-lasting seemed that of rampant blood-drinkers hanging around young svelte girls' bedrooms like undead perverts, who'd tear out your throat as soon as look at you and gobbled blood like hummingbirds imbibed nectar. Since it involved going public, Amane wasn't in any hurry to publicise the truth and correct this horrible picture. Then there was the more recent idea that vampires were tortured souls who lusted after the living for more than just their blood, but the whole violence angle remained. Vampires were vicious, only out for themselves and their own kind, and those who weren't were the minority. There was no such thing as a truly nice vampire.

Whatever the media pedalled, though, in real life vampires were nothing more than a fairytale or the preserve of sickos who sharpened their teeth and hung around in special clubs listening to grungy music and convincing themselves they really were the walking undead even though they were as mortal as everybody else. Nobody sane actually believed in vampires, and Amane was happy to keep it that way, since that made it easier for her to move around undetected. As far as the world knew, Amane Bakura had died in a tragic car accident two years ago and was buried in the grave next to her mother's in England.

The world, however, was misinformed – or at least only had half the story.

Their family had always been strange on both sides, stretching from Japan to Britain with stories of the unexplained. There were rumours that Great-Grandfather Hibiki's madness stemmed from moving to a haunted house in a town called Domino, and that three hundred years ago one of their ancestors used her lover's soul as collateral in a deal with a demon that went badly wrong. Great-Aunt Ethel on their mother's side, who spent her last years in a care home called 'Paradias Heights' (how good could it be, Ryou had always wondered with an anxious frown, if they couldn't even spell 'Paradise' correctly?) and always smelled a little of wee, claimed she was actually a powerful psychic in touch with the Other Side. She used to boast she'd had tea with the spirit of Sylvia Plath, and found her a very tiresome woman with no appreciation for Darjeeling or the Japanese poetry favoured by Ethel's darling-but-a-little-odd Great-Nephew, Daichi – Amane's father.

Even as recently as Daichi Bakura's generation, weird things had been popping up. That tomb he found while on a dig in Egypt, for example, had not been a regular tomb. It had been covered in sigils to keep evil spirits locked inside; seals he'd accidentally broken when he entered, much to his chagrin since they referred to an era of history there was previously no record of, and so were of great archaeological value. Likewise, the artefacts he brought out of it had not been the regular bits of broken pottery and bone, though he said afterward he had no idea how he was able to go straight to them, as if he'd known where they were even though that was impossible.

In short, Amane and Ryou, as the end product of years of supernatural rumours, claims, anecdotes and other freaky experiences, had probably always been destined for lives filled with the arcane. Even so, neither of them could've predicted the turns their lives would take.

Or their deaths.

More specifically, Amane thought, my death. She concentrated hard. Her fingers tingled and the toes of her boots began to dissolve. Please say I have enough power left to go smoke. I just know I'll wake him if I have to try breaking open the latch again … ah, there we go.

Amane's fate led beyond that rainy day in a Yorkshire cemetery, when her father and brother paid their last respects and then left under the same black umbrella. At the time it had seemed wonderful, to be given a second chance at the life that had been taken so abruptly from her, but the Bakura family had never had it easy where fate was concerned. As Amane quickly learned, the gift she'd been given by the strange man her mother had swerved to avoid on the rainswept road, consequently ploughing their car into a tree, was complicated.

"P-please, my Mummy's still in there. You have to save her, too -"

"Sorry, hen, no can do. It's too late for her."

"But …"

"Cripes, you look in a bad way yourself. I never meant to … oh feck, it's a good job tonight isn't a full moon, with all this blood on you."

"M-Mumm-myyy …"

"You're not long for this world either, are you? Poor little mite. How old are you – ten? Eleven?"

"M' twelve."

"Really? You look younger. Still too young to suffer just because I wasn't paying attention crossing the bleeding road, though. Who knew there'd be a car way out here in the sticks this late at night?"

"It huuuuurts."

"Feck. I'm sorry. Christ alive, I … listen, sweetheart; if you like, I can make the pain go away. I can end it all, quick as a flash."

"Want my brother. Want Ryou."

"There was nobody else in the car except you and your mum."

"S'at home. Want Ryou. Want Ryou."

"Don't struggle; you'll just lose more blood. Oh, cripes, you're shattered to pieces inside. This isn't fair. I swore I'd never kill, and now look what I've done."

"Don't wanna die. Ryou. Want Ryou. He always makes me feel better. Ryou's my big brother. Daddy's never home, an' now Mummy's gone, so I want Ryou. I want Ryooouuuu …"

"Hush, sweetheart, don't cry. Gawd, I was never good with kids. Probably a good thing I can't have any."

"It hurts."

"It will do."

"I don't want to die."

"I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. Bloody hell. Should I?"

"Mister, don't go away. I'm frightened."

"Urgh. Stupid moral decisions. I should just become a bloody hermit or something so I don't have to make them anymore. Listen, sweetheart, what do you know about vampires …?"

Apparently not as much as she'd thought, because real vampirism wasn't much like the kind pedalled by the media. Real vampires only had to drink blood once a month, for example, when the moon was full. The rest of the time they could either eat regular food or not eat at all. However, if they didn't feed during the full moon they really could go crazy with bloodlust and do all manner of damage. As long as they fed they could maintain their powers and do so much more than just turn into bats and fly. The blood could only come from someone with whom they'd made a blood pact, though – the first person they bit after they were turned and emerged from their graves as nothing more than a cloud of smoke seeping from the ground. For Amane, still clinging to the thought she'd had when she died in the rain in the stranger's arms, that was the person she'd rushed home to see: her big brother, Ryou.

Her love for her brother sealed their fate.

The blood pact sealed them together.

The Millennium Ring sealed their future.

Vampires couldn't walk around in daylight in their human forms, which was a pain. For some reason animal forms which weren't affected the same way, though, and so many adopted those whenever they couldn't sleep and wanted to wander around outside. Vampires didn't have to go to school either, which was brilliant, because it meant Amane could keep an eye on her brother and try to help him as much as she could without him realising she was there. Her favourite form was a small fluffy kitten, which Ryou always petted on his way to school, enjoying the way it purred and thrust its head into his hand, if not knowing the true reason why it was so affectionate.

Amane stared at him in the bed, arms flung over his head like a baby in a cot, one foot jutting from beneath the duvet. He didn't look like he was possessed by an evil spirit. Then again, Amane didn't look like she was a vampire until she bent close and opened her mouth. Only her razor-sharp incisors made her look like she was anything more than a little girl in jeans and a rumpled tee-shirt.

Ryou winced once when her fangs penetrated, but the sedative effect of her saliva kicked in almost immediately, leaving her to drink and replenish her power reserves.

I'm sorry, she thought, as she thought every time she had to do this. You wouldn't have been my first choice as a pacter if I'd known, but by the time I figured it out it was too late. I just wanted to see you again, Big Brother. I didn't know what would happen …

At least the psychic bond of the blood pact had allowed her to erase his memories of the incident. Their first meeting after her return had not been the happy reunion she'd wanted. Instead, Ryou's mind had snapped with grief and disbelief that his little sister had not only returned from the dead, but was standing in their living room with bloodlust in her eyes and his own blood on her teeth. Bad luck had ensured Amane awoke on the night of a full moon, as it had also ensured the mental frailty that plagued Ryou after she fixed the damage she'd done to his psyche, sobbing and cradling him until their father came to investigate and she instinctively turned to smoke and escaped out of the window. Their father thought it was Ryou attempting suicide in his sorrow, and immediately checked his son into a hospital.

Ryou was never the same afterwards. He couldn't remember trying to slash his own throat, though he must have done so, since there had been nobody else in the room when his father found him. Sometimes he would stare at his hands and start to tremble, wrapping his arms around himself and rocking back and forth like he was wearing a straightjacket. He mumbled names and half-phrases, squeezing his eyes shut as if in pain. Amane got better at sending soothing pulses into his mind to calm him when she had enough power, though it grew progressively more difficult as the moon waxed to fullness and her energy dwindled.

Riddled with guilt, she kept her distance as much as she could. Though she had to visit him once a month, she never allowed Ryou to actually see her in her human form, not realising at first that his condition was only partly her fault. In actual fact, her inexpert meddling inside his head had allowed the evil spirit lurking in the Millennium Ring to gain a better hold over her brother, and it was this that speeded his deterioration, compelling their father to move back to Japan instead of staying in a country where he'd never really felt comfortable – especially without his wife to anchor him there. Ryou was shipped out with him under the reasoning that being away from the places that reminded him of his dead mother and sister would distance him from the impulse to join them.

Of course, Amane followed. She couldn't stay behind – not when her blood pact was with Ryou, and especially not when she finally came across the dark presence prowling his soul and mind. She made a fresh pact, though this one was only with herself.

"I will save you, Big Brother," she'd said as she crouched in the hold of the airplane to Domino City Airport. "Or I'll die again trying to do it."

She owed him that much. She loved him that much. Ryou had always looked after her, no matter what kind of scrape she got herself into. It was Ryou who had comforted her when her friends were catty, and Ryou who had bandaged her up when she tried to discipline the school bully and ended up getting the snot beaten out of her. He'd always been there for her. Now it was her turn to be there for him, even if he could never know.

It was hard, though. She missed him desperately – missed his warm hugs and the sound of his laughter. He never laughed anymore. Perhaps if she'd understood more of her powers, or the enemy she was up against, it would've been easier to bear. Perhaps if she was smarter she'd have been able to figure out an instant solution to the problem. Perhaps if the spirit wasn't so good at losing her when it took control of Ryou's body and went out at night, leaving her to wander the streets searching in vain for Ryou's repressed mental signature … perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Perhaps if the strange man had just let her die instead of giving in to his own guilt, she wouldn't have had to worry about any of this. But he had, because although he had been a vampire, he hadn't been a bad person. Vampires weren't intrinsically evil, and they weren't infallible, either. Amane knew that firsthand.

It was hard being your big brother's protector with so much stacked against you.

She unlatched herself from Ryou's neck, careful not to take too much blood or to accidentally tear his skin. Some unscrupulous vampires made multiple blood pacts, killing off the humans they'd pacted with when they got bored of them and wanted to move on. They used the psychic bonds to make their pacters do awful things, controlling their thoughts the way the Spirit of the Millennium Ring controlled Ryou. Amane may have only been twelve when she died, but she'd grown up a hell of a lot in the following two years, and the instincts of a vampire meant she felt no compunction about hunting down any who did such terrible things in Domino City.

"Nobody has the right to control someone else like that!" she'd spat at the last one, right before she shoved him out into the sunlight before he had a chance to transform. "You make me sick!" He'd turned to ash instantly, and Amane had watched it blow away, wishing the mind-control of the Millennium Ring was as easy to undo.

As always after feeding she felt itchy and eager to burn off her restlessness. She could've gone running over the rooftops, or turned into something with wings and soared away into the night. Once, when they were still in England, she pulled a real Dracula and transformed into a wolf, then went running across the moors. It had caused quite a stir when someone snapped a picture.

But now she hunkered down next to the bed and gently stroked Ryou's cheek, watching the reassuring rise and fall of his chest. He wouldn't wake, even at her touch. She savoured this brief period when she could get close to him without worrying about more mental scars. When she wasn't fighting the Spirit she preferred to give Ryou his privacy and stay out of his mind.

"Big Brother, you need some friends," she advised, spotting the pile of fresh envelopes addressed to their old house in England, and headed by her name. He never sent them. Why would he? She was dead, after all. He never talked to their father, either. Daichi Bakura spent so much time on digs trying to keep away from his son's corrosive misery that Amane had almost forgotten what he looked like. "You should be talking to them about the things you write in your letters."

Ryou didn't say a word. Their psychic bond had been made sharper by the freshly exchanged blood, and Amane could feel his thoughts like a calm sea, lapping against her own.

You need some friends, she gently thought at him, not insisting or compelling, just suggesting. What about that Yuugi boy I've seen you with? He seems nice. Very non-threatening. He's nice to cats and seems to like you.

Again, Ryou said nothing, though Amane knew that if he'd been awake he would have immediately gone to the argument that people who befriended him inevitably ended up getting hurt.

That damn Spirit was ruining everything in his life, and he didn't even know it was there.

Amane sighed. "I love you, Big Brother." I do love you. And Daddy. I never stopped. Not once. Not for a second. Not even when you screamed and were frightened of me, or when he abandoned you here with that stupid Ring. You know that, right?

Ryou's thoughts stirred, but with a sinking heart Amane sensed the Spirit unfolding its tendrils, tightening them over her brother and glaring balefully at her with eyes it didn't, actually, have.

I won't let it take you - "Big Brother", she half-thought, half-gritted, preparing herself for another round in her battle with the Spirit. Not ever.

Amane Bakura was many things – vampire, little sister, dead daughter, defender of the innocent, Ryou's protector, name on an unsent letter, fluffy kitten – but she was not a quitter.