Once Hibari-kun had agreed to the adoption, I felt a weight press down on my shoulders. I hadn't actually expected him to accept so easily, and now I had a responsibility to fulfill. I felt a little faint, but pulled myself together.

First things first, I had to oversee the funeral rites and the ceremonies that Hibari-kun may not know how to or be able to carry out.

"Have they said anything about the bone-picking?" I said lowly. It was a rite of utmost importance and children were usually discouraged.

The wide-eyed look of surprise was an answer in itself.

I nodded slowly, mind racing. "I'll ask the priest if you can be present as well—do you know the order?" It was important to pick bones from the bottom up to ensure that his grandmother wasn't upside-down in the urn. And we had to set the hyoid carefully.

Hesitantly, he nodded. I made a note to teach him beforehand so that there wouldn't be any hiccups or overt whispering during the rite.

Fiddling with the papers in my hand, I muttered the things to figure out—people to carry the casket, change of flower arrangements. Incense. Money. A typical wake lasted 3-4 days, but there wouldn't be much use extending the time when no other relatives were coming and we needed the time to figure out other things. I could bring the cremation forward to tomorrow—after discussion with Hibari and the priest and hiring people to assist us.

"Have they prepared the altar to place her remains?" I asked absentmindedly. When there was no answer I turned to him fully, "What." I narrowed my eyes in indignation, "Please don't tell me…"

When a person is cremated, their remains are placed at the family altar for 35 days. But it wasn't just putting the urn there—there were arrangements to make and a priest had to be consulted. It was very important!

"I don't know," Hibari replied in frustration. "They won't tell me anything."

At the sight of his clenched fists, I reached out abruptly and ruffled his hair. The stunned look on his face made him look his age again and I felt my lips twitch, "Don't worry, kiddo. I'll get the details from them." I gestured with the adoption papers, "We'll need to get this settled as early as possible so that they won't be able to block me. And relax, I've had to oversee a funeral before and I did okay."

I took another deep breath and started to plot.

xXXx

Kyoya felt the uneasiness in his stomach slowly uncoil as he listened to Izumi speak. She was a little hesitant, and her eyes were flicking everywhere, but her voice was even and controlled. She had a plan, and that was more than he had.

The unexpected wave of relief made him tremble slightly.

"Okay, we'll just hurry over to the office to get these signed and witnessed," Izumi stated gravely, "I'll try to make it as short as possible and if we're lucky and don't get an asshole, it'll take 15 minutes tops. An hour if I have to argue. I don't think they'll be able to push us too hard because we still need to get back here for the rites and if they do, I'll lodge a complaint to the committee. I'm pretty sure any decent person would defend us."

She waited until Kyoya nodded in agreement before taking his hand. From her sleeve, she produced a few more sticks of incense, lighting them and handing him a few, "Put some more and ask her to help us. I'm sure she will watch over you."

Carefully, he took the sticks and knelt in front of the altar—Izumi behind him, as was proper. Closing his eyes, he could still hear Grandmother's voice and feel her hands running through his hair. Biting his lips, he sat up stiffly and prayed. He hoped she was happy in heaven with his parents.

When they went up to the altar, he looked around for the stool—he was still a little too short to reach the pot. Hands circled his waist gently and he tensed. Even his parents had never touched him so easily, but Izumi was his guardian now. He allowed her to pick him up so that he could push the sticks into the pot.

He didn't thank her, and she didn't ask him to.

But he let her hold his hand as they stepped out of the house.

xXXx

As I suspected, the authorities were rather reluctant to allow a 16 year old girl to take custody of a child. Even though they were the ones to contact me, they'd probably not expected me to actually want to adopt Kyoya (I guess I should start calling him that). As I estimated, it took roughly an hour of scrutinizing my documents and hemming and hawing before they'd finally given in and acknowledged my claim of custody. Throughout the whole idiotic trial, I kept his hand prisoner. I'm pretty sure he would have stood up and thrown a fit if I hadn't.

While the ink was still drying on the papers, we were already on our way to the local crematorium to make arrangements for the funeral. The entire thing had been arranged as simply as possible and that was an insult. I barked orders to change the flowers, took the names of the men who would carry the casket and drive the hearse, and ran about procuring incense, flowers and fresh fruits. I'd also checked the procedures done for the presentation of the body just in case they'd skimmed over that too. Fortunately, even they weren't as beastly as that.

The old priest there offered to waive the fee for the cremation, but I refused firmly—it wasn't proper to accept charity for a relative's funeral. We weren't paupers who couldn't even afford a proper cremation. I could use the money my parents left me if it came to that.

In fact, I was pretty sure there had to be some allowance for a funeral in the will or at least a clause in the law. I made another note to check up on it just in case. Unless the petty offerings I'd seen was the extent of their 'generosity'.

There was also the matter of the family shrine—it hadn't been sealed properly. I was appalled, as was Kyoya, and we hurried to get a priest to take action. He also consulted his books and gave us the dates we could move the urn to the family grave as well as a short lesson on what kind of offerings to bring, what gestures to do. It was thoughtful of him.

It was nearly evening when we had attended to all the arrangements. Kyoya was drooping, but stubbornly clinging on. I was exhausted from running around the town immediately after my arrival—I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. Both of us were stifling yawns and bleary-eyed.

But somebody had to remain present at the wake.

It was apparent that mule-headedness ran in the family—neither of us could convince the other to go to bed. The both of us ended up sitting beside the altar quietly trying to stare the other into submission. I had to admit, if I didn't have to be the adult, and thus the responsible one, I would have caved in to the steely glare. But since I was, I couldn't very well allow my ward to sit up alone all night beside a dead body.

Instead, I draped an arm over his weary form and pulled him closer to my side. His non-resistance was a very obvious indication of just how tired he was. I reined in a sigh. Stubborn donkey-headed kid. I tousled his hair fondly. I liked him already.

"You need to clean up. All that running around has made you all sticky and smelly. I'll keep watch while you change and we can switch." It was absolutely wonderful that he was already ten, if he had been younger I wouldn't trust him to take a bath by himself. And I thanked the heavens that I had had the foresight to bring a change of clothes.

He hesitated again, flashing me a sharp look as if he didn't quite trust me to watch his grandmother, but gave in. Another thing I appreciated, he listened as long as it was reasonable.

I held his arm as he got up, "Make sure you wash thoroughly. Don't rush over anything and end up showing her a dirty face." Matured and intelligent and reasonable, but he was still a kid. When he glared at me glumly, I nearly rolled my eyes. His intentions had been obvious.

As he plodded sullenly inside, I released a slow breath and leaned against the wall, watching the smoke from the incense curl up lazily into the darkening sky.

xXXx

As hot water splashed against his skin, he sighed in relief. It was a little guilt-inducing, but Izumi's words about being clean made sense. It was a gesture of respect to Grandmother that he didn't face her with dust and sweat on his clothes. He propped himself against the wall as he thought of the day's events.

It had been exhausting, finding out and making new arrangements for the funeral. The people at the office had wasted a lot of their time trying to talk both them out of their decision. It made his blood boil and if Izumi had not told him that they couldn't afford to insult them, he would have bitten them to death. He nearly had anyway, but he hadn't been able to pull his hand out of hers. The girl had a vice-like grip when she chose to use it.

But it was a welcome change from the previous days. Something had been done, and Izumi had tried her best to include his opinions when deciding. She'd been weary too, her back slumping slightly during the brief interludes. She was always busy. Even at lunchtime she ate quickly and spent the rest of it bent over papers and signing forms and talking to people. But she had done it because he couldn't, and even the things he could, she did so he didn't. He'd tried to feel indignation, but all he felt was relief.

He'd thought that there was nobody left on his side.

As he pulled on a new, clean mofuku, he felt the beginnings of hope.

xXXx

My eyes were half closed when Kyoya padded softly back. His hair was still wet, but he looked well-scrubbed and the mofuku he wore was new. I stifled another yawn but stood up.

"May I use the bathroom?" I asked carefully. While I probably had the right now that I was his guardian, I didn't want to impose when we had just met. Though it looked like my apprehension was for naught, since he nodded matter-of-factly and gave me directions willingly enough.

It was a relief to finally take a shower and get clean. I felt my tensed muscles relax and the weariness ease. It was a little easier to bear the strain of responsibility, a little easier to straighten my back and lift my head. The words of my parents repeated themselves in my ear as I stood. Words of advice, words of encouragement, and above all, the mantra that they would always stand by me and love me. I felt my eyes tear up a little, but cleared my throat firmly.

I was alone, Kyoya was alone. We were both young and inexperienced—he more than I. While I was fresh out of school and wet behind the ears, he was still in the midst of childhood. Even if I understood how he felt, I didn't know if I would be able to give him the care and guidance he needed. I knew myself. Knew my faults and until recently, hadn't bothered to change them. Thinking of the years ahead made my knees buckle.

Could I be a good role model? Could I impart the values my families had drilled into me—the good ones? Could I teach this struggling but strong-willed boy how to become a good man? I was barely a woman myself—could I be the adult he needed me to be?

I slapped myself. Hard. There was no point worrying myself sick over this. I had to try. My mother had always said that it was better to try than not at all. I had taken on this responsibility, I would see it through. I had to. I didn't know what I'd do if I had ruined his future just because I couldn't take the weight.

I would definitely make mistakes. Kyoya was aloof and hurt and stubborn. I wasn't the best in socializing and sometimes my words ran away from me. We would butt heads, he may come to resent me, but I had to do my best.

I pressed my head against the door and breathed. Then I tightened my obi and strode out.

xXXx

We were both sleepy. After the hectic day we had, how could we not? But we were both stubborn and we both had a duty and so we both managed to last past midnight. Even my waist length hair had dried by then. Tucked under my arm, Kyoya sat as still as a statue, although he was beginning to nod off.

Fortunately, I had the experience of a high school student studying for exams under my belt. Kyoya had no such thing. And I'd ignored his protests and pulled him to my side on purpose. Warmth made people sleepy and I was pretty sure I made a decent pillow to lean on. It took him a few hours, but he finally slumped against me, breathing evenly.

Cute stubborn brat.

I shifted him so that he lay with his head in my lap—I knew how painful it was to wake up from an uncomfortable position. Playing with his unbelievably soft hair, I relaxed my stiff pose and listened to the cricking insects in the garden as I made plans for the next day.