Prologue

He could remember every detail as though it happened yesterday. Why, he wasn't quite sure. Some might say it was because the event was traumatic and thus ingrained itself into his memory, but truth be told, his childish mind wasn't afraid when it happened.

He was walking home after buying groceries from the market with his mother, who at the time, had taken to working from home on weekends to take care of him and Komachi. He was only five then, and Komachi was barely three years old, so of course they couldn't take care of themselves for all seven days of the week. At some point they passed by a group of kids his age with two adults. What they were doing there was anyone's guess, but that didn't matter.

He distinctly remembered a group of them surrounding a boy and a girl. He couldn't tell what the other kids were saying, but they were obviously causing distress for the girl, who his innocent and childish mind had labelled 'angel' on account of her pristine face and beautiful ebony hair that reached down to her shoulders. One of the adults, a woman, was watching them, but she either didn't notice, or simply didn't care, probably thinking something like 'they were just kids'. Maybe if she gave an inkling of a damn, they wouldn't be here.

It all happened so quickly. The girl broke off from the boy, a blond who she seemed to be close to, and ran into the street. Both the blond and the older woman yelled for her to come back instead of, you know, running after her? At the very least, the adult was about thrice the girl's height, so she could've caught her. The rest of the kids? They just stood there giggling to themselves. It was kind of funny thinking back now, how quickly their amusement turned into horror.

First there was the sound of screeching tires as a white Toyota Prius braked in vain, followed by the sickening crunch of bone and metal as the vehicle crashed into the girl's tiny frame, right before his eardrums were assaulted by terrified screams and desperate cries of the girl's name.

Cliché as it might sound, time seemed to slow to a crawl as the girl's body rolled onto the road in a crumpled heap. Her neck and limbs were bent unnaturally, and blood began to run from her mouth. A quick and probably painless death, were it not for the microsecond at impact when she could still feel pain.

The blond was still screaming her name, and Hachiman thought he remembered him trying to run towards her. He wasn't sure because he hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings. All his focus was instead on the corpse's eyes. He could tell they were blue even from where he stood, a stark contrast in comparison to the pale grey ones of the girl floating right beside it. That was the first time he saw her, and if he were so bold, he would say that he was just as shocked by her appearance as she was by her own death.

Everything that came after was a blur. His mother had rushed him away from the scene, understandably not wanting to linger. The girl continued to stare at her own body in shock, and he being the sweet, naive child that he was, prayed she would be able to find peace. As he and his mother rounded a corner however, the girl's eyes locked onto his. Unbeknownst to him at the time, the action would seal their fates. The next day, the news reported the unfortunate death of five year old Yukinoshita Yukino, second daughter of the wealthy Yukinoshita family. Hachiman wondered how even alive in the picture they used, she looked like a lifeless porcelain doll.

That was the first time he saw Yukinoshita Yukino. What was even stranger, was how it wouldn't be the last.

...

Horror movies loved to make a big deal of hauntings. Unnaturally cold winds would bite at the skin, lights would flicker as doors opened and closed themselves. The more dramatic ones would shake the ground and knock over anything and everything, perhaps with a ghastly voice to serve as a melodic background to the spectacle.

Real life hauntings however, or at least, the only one Hachiman had ever experienced, were a lot more subtle.

First of all, the lights did not begin to malfunction as though they had been in a state of disrepair for decades, and the house hadn't begun to shake with some invisible force. There were no ghostly cries or hair-raising breezes, and the only indication he had that something was not quite right was a small nagging at the back of his mind.

It was when his mother walked in and he looked up that he saw her for the second time in a year, floating at the doorway behind his mother. Yukinoshita Yukino looked exactly the same as he remembered, with a pristine, doll-like face, and ebony hair that drifted down past her shoulders. Her eyes remained a pale shade of grey. Lifeless, even as she stared at him with her mouth agape.

His mother hadn't reacted to the girl's presence. Why would she? Even at the tender age of six in his first year of elementary school, he knew what this phenomenon was - he had watched Yu Yu Hakusho after all.

She was a ghost, and nobody but him could see her.

Hachiman stood up to greet his mother. As his eyes met those of the ghost girl, he tilted his head back towards the living room. She got the message like he hoped she would and drifted in after his mother before the door closed behind them.

Hikigaya Aiko looked him up and down with tired eyes. "You didn't have to wait for me, Hachiman..."

"I wanted to."

Hachiman took his mother's jacket from her and placed it on the nearby clothes rack. He then moved towards the couch where his mother had sat down to pour her a cup of tea. She thanked him before taking a tentative sip, releasing a contented sigh as her entire frame shuddered.

"Dad didn't pick you up?" he asked as he sat down beside her.

"His boss pushed for overtime at the last minute, apparently." Aiko said with a rueful chuckle. "He asked me to wish you good night on his behalf."

The corners of Hachiman's lips tugged upwards. It had been a year since he and his mother witnessed the car accident. While he was relatively unaffected, having come to terms with the fact that accidents were part and parcel of life, his mother was much more shaken. She later told him that she had nightmares throughout the night where she lost either him, Komachi, or the both of them.

Since then his parents had started to work less hours so they could spend more time together as a family. The family budget for every non-essential was cut down, but he considered that a fair trade for time with his parents. Time which he hadn't realised how much he wanted.

Although it felt wrong to admit it, he was grateful towards this Yukinoshita girl. Her death directly resulted in him and Komachi receiving more parental love than they had in previous years combined.

Speaking of... was it weird that he didn't react as badly towards the fact there was a ghost right in front of him as a six year old should have? More importantly, was she really just a figment of his imagination, or were the books on Buddhism he had read onto something? It was the anniversary of her death after all.

"Hachiman?" He snapped out of his thoughts at his mother's voice. Strangely, the nagging at the back of his mind had gotten stronger. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I was just thinking that it's been a year since... you know." he said. It would be better if he accepted the more logical conclusion that he was hallucinating. It was probably due to trauma. Yup.

Aiko blinked. "It's already been a whole year...?" her eyebrows furrowed as she downed the rest of her drink. With a sigh, she placed the cup down before lying back and sinking into the couch. "So it has. Time really flies, doesn't it?"

Her expression was forlorn as she spoke. Hachiman had seen that distant gaze a number of times in the past year. Idly, he wondered which was the reason this time. Regret for not spending more time with her family until recently, or the thought that she could one day lose them in a moment. Maybe it was both. His mother had always been difficult to read, and he had a feeling that fact wouldn't change no matter how much time they spent together.

Hachiman did the only thing he could think of, and rested his head on his mother's shoulder. Her hand reached up to ruffle his hair reflexively. In that moment, neither the past nor the future mattered. The Hikigaya family was together in the present, and at the end of the day, that was all he cared about.

He did his best to ignore how the ghost had been watching the whole time, shoulders shaking as her hands balled into fists.

The second time he saw Yukinoshita Yukino, he couldn't help but think that she seemed more alive than she ever did when her eyes weren't a pale grey.

...

To Hachiman, getting out of bed would always be the worst part of the day. Even now when he would wake up to the smell of his mother's home cooking, excited babbling of his cute little sister, and the sounds of the coffee machine brewing, he hated having to leave the comfort of his blanket.

So of course, when he opened his eyes and found himself staring into the dead grey orbs of Yukinoshita Yukino, his first thoughts were to go straight back to sleep and hope that the strange dream would end soon. That was not to be however, as the ghost spoke for the first time since he saw her.

"You can see me... can't you?"

Her voice was impossibly soft, yet he could hear her clearly, as though she were whispering right next to his ear. Her words were spoken precisely but with a tone as fragile as broken glass, and each syllable enunciated as though she feared she would not be heard otherwise.

The girl - would it be insensitive to call her by her family name since she was dead? - Yukino's tiny frame shook. "Please... tell me you can see me," she begged, "I know you can see me."

Hachiman slowly sat up, hesitantly nodding as he wondered what exactly he should do in such a situation, because the idea that he was hallucinating her existence had started to become less believable than that of an actual ghost haunting him. An actual ghost of a young girl who was clearly not in the best state of mind, who looked as desperate as Komachi did when she cried for their mother and father at the tender age of four.

Yukino stepped back with a sound of relief. "Thank goodness. I thought- I-" Hachiman reached out to catch her as her legs gave way beneath her. To his shock, he could actually feel the ghost on his hands. Weren't they supposed to be incorporeal?

The sudden awkwardness of literally having a girl in his hands, nevermind the fact she was a ghost, hit him like a train. Mustering every one of his older brother instincts, he forced himself to put up a brave face. "Uhm, I didn't introduce myself, did I? My name is Hikigaya Hachiman. What's yours?"

The sheer normalcy of their interaction must've weirded out Yukino, because she began to laugh almost hysterically. "I c-can't believe- haha, it's been so long since-"

"Hey, hey! Calm down!" he gripped her bare shoulders as his mind raced to remember how his mother handled these sorts of outbursts. "Follow my lead, take deep breaths." would a ghost even be able to do breathing exercises? Then again, it wasn't like he had much of a choice! "In... and out."

Miraculously enough, the method seemed to work as Yukino's breathing slowly started to become more regular. After a minute that felt like hours, he finally released his grip on the ghost as she let out one last deep breath with a tremble.

Then, much to Hachiman's shock, he was staring into vibrant blue eyes and were those tears dancing on the edges and what was going on?!

"Hachiman? I thought I heard- oh my god!"

The third time he saw Yukinoshita Yukino, she was alive as though she had never died. Not only did she give him and his mother simultaneous heart attacks, she then shattered their hearts into a million pieces by breaking down into a desperate sob.

Years later, when asked to recount his tale, Hachiman would say with a smirk, "Our story begins with her killing my mother and I through heartbreak, and us bringing solace to her soul."

No, Yukino did not understand what the buffoon meant. Yes, you would unfortunately have to find out by hearing their story. It would be best if you sat down, because it's a rather long one.