"After all that we've been through, and after all we've left in pieces, I still believe our lives have just begun." I sang softly to myself. Too bad that's a lie. I threw the stress ball straight up once more, catching it with ease. I sighed and sat up on my bed. The nightingale outside my window chirped a sad melody. Fitting for tonight. I stood up and walked over to my window, opening it wide. I stuck my upper body out, holding on to the sill. The cool night air left chills crawling over my skin.

The dark, night sky provided the perfect background for the abnormally large moon. I could hear the wolves howling at the perfect circle in the distance. The stars twinkled brightly, as if calling out to something.

Or someone.

"Yukari?" The voice behind me made me jump. I crawled back into my room and turned around to face the visitor. Her sad brown eyes matched her frown. Her small figure, however, stood strong. Her light brown bangs fell around her face, hopeless and untouched like she hadn't cared for it in days.

"Hey, Keiko."

"Are you ok?" She asked. Her voice was gentle, cautious. Once honey sweet, it now seemed to lack emotion.

And I can't blame her for that.

"Yeah. I'm fine. How are you though?" She was his love, and he was hers. It was obvious, they were meant to be together. From the time they were young, it still showed today. They were supposed to love each other.

"Better than yesterday."

The door opened again, and another woman entered. This one had long brown hair, and her eyes were somewhat aged, although she was merely twenty-nine.

"There you are, Yukari. Come out here, show some respect for Christ's sake." She snapped. Where anger and annoyance should have been, there was only lethargy and exhaustion.

I sighed, fighting back my sarcastic comebacks that I was so widely known for. "Yes, mother." She turned and left the room, Keiko following after her. I glanced in the mirror. My hair was clean at least. Brushed was a different story. I grabbed my comb and ran it through. I debated putting on some makeup to hide the red blotches that marred my skin. And then I realized something: I didn't care.

My brother is dead. I can cry if I so pleased to do so.

I walked through the house to the living room. People filled the room; the sounds of sobs rang loudly. I glanced at his casket. A group of boys from our school stood all around it. One of them, Kazuma, even appeared to be crying.

"I still feel him." Keiko said to a girl, another school mate of ours. "I still feel like he's here."

Too bad he's not.

People had been here for hours already. I don't understand how my mother can put up with all of this. When the viewing first started, she'd sobbed so hard she threw up. That was hours ago. I'd retreated to my room multiple times, only coming out to see how many people were still here. I'd been yelled at so many times for not showing respect to my brother by not being present to the guests. Each time I held the same response: "My only brother, my twin is dead. Yet I'm the one here not showing respect?" And each time they'd shut up.

"Damnit, Urameshi!" Kazuma screamed suddenly. I jumped at the sudden outburst. "We weren't finished! Wake your ass up!" His sister, Shizuru, ran up to him, trying to restrain him. "Wake up, Urameshi."

Keiko sobbed harder.

I bolted to my room and slammed the door. I sank to the floor, back still pressed against my door. My breathing was heavy and quick. Don't you dare cry, you bitch.

"Yusuke," I whispered to myself. "You dumbass." My attempts to stop the tears failed, and water spilled over my cheeks. So much crying, so many tears…

What kind of world is this? What kind of fourteen year old girl cries herself to sleep, wishing her elder brother were still alive? And what about Keiko? She just lost the boy she's loved since she was little, though she'd never admit to that. What kind of world is this, where fourteen year old boys are killed for trying to save another boy's life?

I know that's not exactly how it happened, but I can't get that through my head. I know the man couldn't have stopped the car in time, but I can't stop thinking that he murdered Yusuke. I know that little boy was too young to know what was going on when he walked out in the street to get his ball, but in my head he signed Yusuke's death warrant.

But in reality, Yusuke died a hero; he saved that little boy's life.

And yet, I hate him for ending his own.

I stood up and opened my door, determined to finish off the night. Yusuke hated to see me cry. He punched me lightly every single time he caught a tear fell. He'd always say, "Keep crying and I'll give you something to really cry about." Yet he never did.

He was like the typical older brother, even though he was only minutes older. He was protective, and no boy was ever good enough for me. To everyone else, he was a failure, a hard headed kid who didn't know when to stop. He fought with everything, and hated authority. The only time he accepted authority was his own while he enforced it on me. It was like he was playing the role of not only my older brother, but my father as well.

Speaking of, the dead beat didn't even show up to his son's own viewing.

The little boy that Yusuke saved, the reason he's gone, stood before his shrine. The boy's mother kneeled before my own, showing her respect and her thankfulness.

My mother didn't even blink.

The woman stood and collected her son. She stopped when she saw me, and gave me a curt nod, yet it was filled with emotions. "I'm terribly sorry for your loss, Miss Urameshi. We are forever grateful for what your brother did for our family." She said gently. Tears welled up in her eyes.

I returned her nod, not trusting my voice. As the boy followed his mother out, I heard him ask, "Can I play with that boy tomorrow? I know some of the people in there were saying he's mean, but he was really nice to me! And he made funny faces! I don't know why people were crying in there, he made me laugh."

My mother broke down sobbing. From my place by the window, I saw the woman outside doing the same.

I retreated back to my room for the last time that night. I slammed the door and curled up in a ball on my bed. Tears flowed again, and I could feel the red blotches on my face returning.

I hate crying.

My body was trembling. My heart felt like someone had ripped it out of my chest, yet the only reason I knew it was still there was the unnaturally quick thumping against my chest. It was like the life had been sucked out of me, and the only emotions I had left to felt were hurt, agony, and anger.

The more I thought about the night's events, the angrier I got. Every time someone had said "I know how you feel," or "it's going to be ok," I wanted to scream at them. No one knew how I felt, I was fourteen and alone. The only person I loved was gone, and I was stuck with my alcoholic mother, a father I'd never known, and the memory of my best friend that was accompanied by the pain of his absence. How was that ever going to turn out ok?

"Damnit, Yusuke!" I screamed, slamming my hands down on my mattress. "Damn you! How could you do this to me? How could you leave me alone like this?" My voice cracked and the tears stained my face still. I trembled harder than I was before, and I let out a heavy sob.

"Yusuke…"