Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't claim to own. Dangedit.

Note: Yes, I realize that in the original Japanese version of YGO Ryou wasn't British. But work with me here, this idea works better if we assume, for the duration of this fic, that he is. British, I mean. :p

()()()()()

I can't believe it. It's amazing, a miracle even. I'm back in control of my own body. Yami and Bakura are both asleep in their soulrooms. They had a particularly rough battle last night, and it left them both drained.

I -we- are in some sort of a hotel room. Okay, we've been in tons of hotel rooms. Where is the question. I walk over to the window and look out. There's snow all over the ground, which throws off my mental calendar by a couple months. I'd thought it was only the middle of September. In the distance, I see a landmark I recognize, and I nearly fall over in shock.

Big Ben.

Oh God.

I'm home.

Without a thought I run downstairs and outside, without so much as a coat on. There's something I have to do. Something I have to settle once and for all, now that I'm finally home.

There's a mental yawn, and Bakura speaks up grouchily. //Runt, what're you-//

I slammed the soulroom door in his face and lock it, something I've never dared to even try before. But he can't stop me, not in this. I may get the beating of my life tonight, but hey, what else is new?

I stop, realizing I'm there. I shiver, and not just from the snowy cold. Cemetaries have always creeped me out. I make my way inside, and head for the back wall. Even though I haven't been here in nearly four years, I still know where I'm going. My heart remembers, even if my mind does not.

I pause in front of a willow tree, its bare braches creating a curtain between me and my destination. I have to catch my breath. I'm so much weaker then I realized. Then I swallow and part them, stepping inside their circle of protection. Three gravestones lay before me. The first is big, made of black obsidian. That one is my father's. The small rose-coloured one next to it is my mother's. And the third, the one with the carved angel on top...

A woman a little younger then me, with long white hair and gentle brown eyes, is standing in front of that third grave. She turns as I enter, and for a moment our eyes meet. I feel a tear run down my cheek, where it freezes, but I don't care.

I know her. I know her very well.

She's dressed in nothing but a thin white dress, but the cold doesn't seem to bother her at all. Her eyes shift to look at the Ring and Puzzle, and her face takes on a look of pain. She looks back into my eyes, and her lips shape words that I cannot hear, but that my heart can feel.

Does he still hurt you?

Mutely I nod, and she looks distressed. She walks over, and her kiss on my cheek is as insubstantial as a wisp of cloud. She steps away, and glances back at the three headstones, the third in particular. She shakes her head, and then turns back to me. Once again my heart feels what she wants to say to me.

I love you. You'll be with us again very soon.

I smile sadly. I knew that already. She cocks her head slightly to the left, as if looking past me at someone or something standing behind me. I don't turn, and she speaks again, her voice softer.

Good-bye onii-san.

I back to the willow curtain. "Good-bye onee-chan." I turn and part the curtain, and then glance back just once over my shoulder. She is already gone, as I knew she would be.

Yes, very soon I'll fade to nothing. Already my strength is fading, and I sink to my knees in the snow. Very soon, I'll be with my dear onee-chan again.

Very soon.

I let myself fall forward into the snow, and for a breif moment I wonder what will happen to the Puzzle and Ring. Will Yami and Bakura continue to war over possesion of my body? Never notice where I am, or rather, where I'm not?

But none of it matters. Suddenly, the young woman is kneeling in front of me, and the snow is no longer cold on my cheek. She's in that same white dress, but now a great light shines behind her, like the sun.

Or the Son.

She smiles at me and grips my arm to help me to my feet, pressing herself close to my side as if I'll be torn away from her grasp.

Amane. Onee-chan. My beloved little sister.

I'm with you again.

()()()()()

WSJ: *sniffles* Did you know that Ryou really does/did have a little sister? She's mentioned in one spot in one volume of the manga. Not unlike Chang Meiran or Midii Une of Gundam Wing... *wanders off to work on What Could Have Never Been*

God bless minna-san!