Fourth chapter! Yay! This chapter I finally got to write for
Yoite, so I'm happy about that :D

An unconscious mind was wandering, not exactly dreaming, but exploring the twisted scars of it's own thoughts.

"You shouldn't have been born! You're just a burdensome shinigami!" The words echoed in Yoite's ears as he crouched on the floor of his basement.

He had fled from the knife after they stabbed him, but somehow the door he had thought led to the freedom and light of the outside, had only plunged him into the darkness of his basement.

Someone had torn out all of the pages of Yoite's books, and they scattered around the sobbing boy, just as torn and broken as he was.
Those books had been special to Yoite, Tsukasa had given them to him, they were his friends in the dark.

Tsukasa... Was he safe?

He hadn't hurt Yoite like he was supposed to, would their parents punish him?

The blue eyed boy's body slow lifted it's own weight and stood up, but then remembered something; Yoite reached his hand to his bloody neck, and found something most people would be shocked at.
What was an open wound a minute ago, was now an ugly, raised scar.

But that didn't matter, was his kind younger brother safe?

A small foot stepped on something squishy.

Looking down, Yoite realized that it was an arm, and horror began to flood through his mind and across his senses.

The arm was connected to a shoulder, that was normal. But the angel the arm was bent at suggested that it was broken in several places.

"Tsukasa!" Yoite knelt down next to his brother, desperate for a response.

After a minute Tsukasa opened an eye and smiled weakly. "Sora... I'm okay..."

The blue eyed boy left out a sigh of relief, and then was suddenly knocked over by an impact to the head.

Looking up after his vision cleared, Yoite saw a sight that terrified him; his parents were standing above him with a knife held in each of their hands.

"This is your fault Tsukasa's hurt isn't it?" Came the strange echoing voice from both of their throats, and Yoite scrambled backwards in fear.

"You should've never have been born." They advanced, brandishing their knives.

"Just a burdensome shinigami praying on innocent lives..." At that Yoite screamed and then somehow found the strength to run.
Yoite ran up the stairs, out of the door, and into the cold, dark house.

As the strength in his thin legs finally gave out, Yoite sunk to his knees on the course grass.
His feet had blindly taken him to what looked like a park from the little he could see in the darkness.

A feeble sob escaped Yoite's cold lips, and he drew his legs up to his chest and began to cry.

Heavy, painful sobs were shaking his entire body as he sat in the cold night, in the lonely, dark park with not a creature in the world caring that he was crying...

"Miharu..." sobbed Yoite, not talking to anyone in particular, just wanting to see the emerald eyed boy.

And then there was a warm hand on Yoite's shoulder, and a familiar apple tinted scent gracing his weak senses.

"Miharu?" Yoite said, almost desperately.

"I'm right here..." said Miharu as he embraced Yoite's curled up form.

The older boy raised his head just enough see Miharu's mop of dark brown hair almost completely obscuring his vision.

Yoite reacted the way he was only brave enough in dreams to do; he wrapped his long arms around Miharu's small frame and pulled him close, burying his face in the shoulder of the younger boy's hoodie.

He wished that he could stop the pathetic sobs shaking his body, but tears were still falling and being sopped up but the jacket's fabric.

"Shhhh... It's okay now..." Miharu crooned, rocking Yoite like one would rock an upset child.

All of a sudden Yoite didn't know why he was crying; Miharu was here, Miharu was right here in his arms and it was going to be okay.

Yoite dreamt about Miharu's soft smile and warm arms as his mind sank back into the deep, dreamless unconsciousness it was so familiar with lately.

Was that too fluffy?... Tell me in a review please! :D