hey y'alls! this is my first attempt at horror-not-horror (it's not very horrifying. scary, yes, horrifying, no). i hope y'all enjoy it! please read and review! and any ideas on what to write next are appreciated!

happy halloween everyone!

HIRO

The cemetery is dark and silent, with only the sound of the wind. The full moon shines brightly overhead, but clouds threaten to cover it.

I shiver and pull my hoodie tighter around my shoulders. I'm a little uneasy with the chilly night and the spooky lighting, and I wish I'd asked Tadashi to come with me. He'd kill me if he knew I went out alone this late. It's three o' clock in the morning, and I woke up half an hour ago with the overwhelming urge to visit my parents' graves. I don't know why—I haven't been here for a while and it's like, the day after Halloween. But I stand there, almost directly on top of my parents' graves, waiting for something. I don't know what it is. But it's important.

Suddenly, a flash of movement behind my mother's gravestone catches my eye. I freeze, my gaze darting around.

"Who—who's there?" I call, my voice trembling. "Come out so I can see you!"

No response. I almost dare to believe I imagined it.

Then a faint figure emerges out of the mist, rising up behind my mom's grave.

I try not to scream as the ghostly figure of my mother appears, emaciated and clothed in tattered scraps of cloth. Her eyes are sunken into her skull, and her tangled hair flies in the wind as she glides toward me, stretching a hand out. Her mouth is closed, but I hear her speak anyway.

My name.

"Hiro…"

The scream leaves my throat, and I turn and sprint through the graves, dodging headstones as I run. I reach the gate and am horrified to find it locked. It wasn't like that when I came in.

I look back over my shoulder and see my mother's ghost still floating toward me, faster now. I quickly glance at the gaps in the gate, then decide I have no other choice. I dive through the bars—well, halfway through. I get hung up in the tiny space and start to panic, struggling furiously. After several seconds, I manage to twist to the right angle and pull myself free, scrambling to my feet and running as fast as I can, taking a shortcut through the woods.

Branches tear at my face and arms as I run, and roots and rocks threaten to trip me. I'm running blind, not even conscious of my surroundings.

I'm nearly back to the café when I, of course, run headfirst into a tree.

The impact knocks me backwards, and I land sprawled on my back on the ground, stars twinkling in my vision. I gasp for air, my asthma making it difficult to breathe after running so fast.

I sit up after a few minutes with a faint groan, rubbing my head. There's already a goose egg forming over my left eye, and a few scratches on my arms and face. But there's nothing serious, so I struggle to my feet, clutching my throbbing head. Through blurred vision, I can see the spirit slowly gliding toward me. The sight sends me into a full-blown panic again, and I take off through the woods.

When I reach the café, I sprint into the garage and into the house, locking all the doors and windows as fast as possible, then bolting up the stairs to my room. I jump into my bed and curl into a ball under the covers.

Tadashi wakes up with a start, looking wildly around. "Hiro! What are you doing? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I pant, still massaging the bump on my forehead. "But Dashi, you're never going to believe this."

I'm right. He almost doesn't believe me, but I never lie to Tadashi, so he takes it better than I thought he would. After getting me an ice pack for my head and making sure I don't have a concussion, he climbs into bed with me like he used to. I press my ear against his chest and curl into a little ball.

I'm terrified—more terrified than I've ever been in my life. What if the spirit comes back? I'm absolutely certain it was ready to kill me. Something was seriously wrong—spirits are divine beings. This one had something wrong with her. My mother certainly would have gone to heaven, so I'm not sure why her spirit seemed so…dark.

Despite my fear, my eyes start to close. My head hurts and I'm exhausted. I'll figure this all out in the morning.

I hope we're safe for tonight.

The next morning dawns dark and rainy, and the roof is leaking again. Awesome.

My hair is damp and cold, and I push it out of my eyes. My hand touches the goose egg on my forehead, and I let out a whimper of pain. Sparks, that hurts. I'm amazed I don't have a concussion—I was running at full speed and didn't even try to dodge the tree.

Dragging myself out of bed and changing, I realize that the café is completely silent. That's not good. It's always open by now—the time is nine am. Where's Aunt Cass?

Being quiet so I don't wake up Tadashi, I tiptoe down the stairs to Aunt Cass's room. I push the door open and slip into the room.

The lights are off, and the curtains are drawn. What's going on?

I step over to Aunt Cass's bed and shake her shoulder gently. "Aunt Cass, you missed your alarm—"

That's when I see the blood.

She's bleeding all over the bed, and she's cold to the touch. I gently turn Aunt Cass over and see—

The knife.

In her chest.

She's dead.

My world spins and goes black.

TADASHI

The loud thump wakes me up. What the flip was that?

I slide out of bed, rubbing my eyes and shoving my glasses onto my nose. I stumble down the stairs, intending to check out the café, but I realize that Aunt Cass's door is ajar, and the lights are off.

I quietly push the door open.

Then I let out an earsplitting scream.

Aunt Cass is limp on the bed, a knife stuck in her chest. Hiro is collapsed on the ground by the bed, breathing but unconscious. I hurriedly rush over to Aunt Cass and check her pulse.

Nothing.

She's dead.

Struggling to keep a wail of despair and grief down, I kneel and check Hiro's pulse. He's definitely alive, but I bet he passed out when he saw Aunt Cass's body. Poor thing—he can't stand the sight of blood. He has vasovagal syncope.

I carry Hiro's limp body back up to his bed, tuck him in, then head back down to Aunt Cass. I gently pull the knife out of her chest and position her so she looks like she's sleeping, the realization only hitting me now.

Aunt Cass was murdered.

I feel tears falling down my cheeks. What happened? Who would want to murder her?

Pulling out my phone, I start to dial 911. The police have to—

Then icy fingers close around my throat.

I yelp and try to pry the hands away, but whoever it is has an iron grip. I look up, trying to see my attacker.

Oh my gosh.

It's Aunt Cass.

Her form is ghostly and ice-blue. She's a spirit, just like the one Hiro says he saw last night. I can't touch her—my hands just pass through her torso when I try to throw her off. But apparently she can touch me, because my throat is constricting. I can't breathe, I'm going to die too—

Then, suddenly, the spirit lets go of me and passes through the curtained window.

I fall to the floor, gasping and clutching my throat, which is going to bruise. What on earth just happened?

Something's really wrong. I have to protect Hiro—I can't let the spirits get him. They'll kill him much more easily than me.

I climb up the stairs to our room, where I discover Hiro sitting up in bed.

"Hiro!" I exclaim. "Oh my gosh, are you okay?" I'm not sure why I'm worrying about this when our aunt has just been murdered. I'm probably in shock.

"I'm fine," he groans, rubbing his forehead. "Killer headache, though. What happened?"

"You passed out. When you saw the…the body." I can't keep my voice from shaking.

Grief washes over Hiro's face. "Oh." His bottom lip starts to tremble, just like it used to when he was little, and I sit down on the bed next to him. I hug Hiro tightly and stroke his dark hair.

"It's my fault," Hiro chokes out, tears dripping down his face. "I went to the graveyard, I don't know why…"

"It's okay," I whisper, tears of my own sliding into Hiro's hair. "It's gonna be okay."

The police can't make any sense of the murder, even going so far as to assume that Hiro or I killed our aunt to inherit the café. It's such a ridiculous idea that I snorted when an officer asked me about it.

There is one detail of the murder that no one, not even Hiro and I can explain. The police came to investigate once I went to the station to talk to them, since the spirit won't let me call. Every time I tried, I felt something ice-cold trail down my spine and heard a soft whoosh. It scared me so bad I just up and went to the police station.

Anyway, the police found no fingerprints on the knife—in fact, no evidence that anyone had ever touched it. No DNA whatsoever. Even a murderer with gloves would have left some trace.

The fact that there are literally no traces of anything on the perfectly sterile knife scares me. I don't know who killed Aunt Cass, but I'm starting to think it might not be a who at all.

And there's one more thing that's really bothering me.

I touched that knife—I pulled it out of her chest.

The police didn't find my fingerprints, either.

The funeral is held a few days later. Both Hiro and I sob through the whole service, with Hiro crying silently and me full-out bawling for everyone to hear. I'm not even embarrassed. It doesn't matter if a man cries at a funeral.

After the burial, the wind starts to blow furiously. I pull my coat tight around my chest, trying to stay warm. The wind is making Hiro's hair go all over the place—more than usual, anyway. It almost looks like he's been electrocuted.

Finally, we walk home in the gathering darkness. My life is dark now. I have to raise Hiro by myself, run the café, and figure out what the heck is wrong with these spirits. I'll never be able to do it without Aunt Cass.

When we get back to the café, I'm afraid to sleep. It's dark and cold, and I'm afraid of the dark and the cold. But I curl up in bed with Hiro, hugging my little brother to my chest. No spirit is gonna get him while I'm around.

That night, I have the worst dream I've ever had in my whole life.

I'm kneeling in the cemetery, the darkness pressing in on all sides of me. The grave in front of me is open, and a small, pale corpse lies inside it.

Hiro.

There's a dark wound in his chest—he's been stabbed, just like Aunt Cass. I'm sobbing, not wanting to cover my baby brother with earth forever. Hiro is dead and it's my fault. I'm not sure how, but it is.

Suddenly, spirits gather around me, whispering and pressing their hands to my back and shoulders. I struggle to push them away, but they quickly become more aggressive, and I leap to my feet, swatting at the phantoms. My hands simply pass through them, though, and they shove me back toward Hiro's grave. I'm shouting at the ghosts, begging them to leave me alone.

My foot lands on empty air behind me, and I barely manage to keep myself from falling into the grave. I whirl around and look down into the hole, and Hiro's spirit suddenly rises from his body, his eyes pools of liquid darkness.

My baby brother lunges forward and grabs my neck, pulling me forward into the six-feet-deep hole. I scream as I plunge onto Hiro's body and the earth starts pouring into the grave.

I'm being buried alive, in the same grave as Hiro. The last thing I see is Hiro's ghostly fingers wrapping around my throat.

I scream one more time, the world going dark.

And I gasp my last breath.

I wake up with a high-pitched scream, bolting upright in bed. That was literally the scariest dream I've ever had. And the worst part is that I don't know if it was a dream or a vision.

See, I have visions sometimes. My patriarchal blessing told me it was the gifts of dreams and prophecy, which has come in handy sometimes—I predicted Hiro's birth, our parents' deaths, and the fire at SFIT.

As a matter of fact, I survived the fire because I knew it was going to happen—upon realizing that Callaghan had the microbots and was escaping, leaving me to die in the building, I ran back. Hiro needed me. I got there just in time to shield Hiro from the explosion, and we were both thrown backwards. Hiro hit his head and got a concussion, as well as several second-degree burns, but they healed over time and he has no scars. I, on the other hand, got several third-degree burns, which did scar. But at least we're both alive.

This dream was…I don't know. Somewhere between a dream and a vision. Like it could happen, but there are ways it couldn't. Different futures. If we're careful, this dream won't ever happen.

But I can tell there's only a very slim chance that both Hiro and I are going to come out of this alive.

That night, the news comes on one of the café's TVs. I'm not paying attention to it until it mentions a death.

Momokase, dead at age twenty-seven. Found in her cell with a knife stabbed into her chest. No fingerprints or DNA on the knife whatsoever.

It's happened again. People are dying in San Fransokyo, and if there's no DNA to go off of, there's nothing Big Hero 6 can do about it.

I hate feeling like I can't help. It's my worst fear, not being able to help people. Especially Hiro—I can't stand it when he's hurting and I can't do anything about it. Poor little guy is scared and still grieving over Aunt Cass, and I don't know what to do for him.

The next day, we get news that Alistair Krei was found dead in his mansion. Dead in exactly the same manner as the others—knife in the chest. No DNA. No trace of a murderer. No evidence whatsoever.

Then, hours later, Professor Granville is gone too. During passing period at school—there is no way a murderer could have done that so fast. Passing period is literally five minutes.

Then Professor Callaghan, another jail murder. He was close to parole, so I feel really bad about that.

They all died stabbed through the heart. I'm terrified. The whole city is on lockdown. The police are perplexed, the civilians are terrified, people are dying, and there's nothing I can do about it. No one can do anything about it if the murderer is who I think it is.

That night, I'm working the night shift—seven at night to one in the morning. Working the night shift in the café is terrifying. It's dark, chilly, and the most sketchy-looking characters are there. Hiro doesn't want to sleep without me, so he stays up until midnight every night. As a result, both of us have perpetual dark circles under our eyes. I actually stay up most of the night, keeping watch until my body forces me to sleep—I'm so tired I can't think straight. But at least nothing can hurt us.

Then, three days after Krei's death, when all the customers have left the café, I see a faint glow outside. I squint out the window, trying to see by the dim light of the streetlamps—

Which promptly go out.

And nine spirits drift directly through the door of the café.

I scream. Hiro, having fallen asleep behind the counter, bolts upright, smacking his head on the countertop and letting out a yelp of pain. But it quickly turns into a scream as he sees the spirits.

The ghosts of Aunt Cass, Momokase, Krei, Granville, Callaghan, and—

Our mother.

And father.

And two little sisters.

All of them are gaunt and skinny, so different than in life—my dad was a chubby guy and my mom was a pear-shaped woman. My first little sister, Kimiko, died at birth, and the second, Takiro, was never born. She died at the same time as my parents, in the explosion that destroyed their lab. But Takiro and Kiki are both young women, with murder in their eyes. All the spirits have it—black pools of darkness in their faces.

"Hiro," I say, my voice shaking so bad I can barely hear myself, "run."

He doesn't get to. The spirits let out a wail of anguish and swoop down on us.

I shove Hiro to the ground and grab a chair, swinging it at the spirits. But it just passes through them—I can't touch the ghosts. And trying to fend them all off at once is just about impossible. Since they can touch me, that makes it even worse—they can hurt me but I can't hurt them. It's impossible.

"Hiro—" I yell, wanting to get him out of here. "Run! Seriously, go, I'll hold them off—"

"I'm not leaving you!"

Hiro leaps up and grabs a chair too, screaming at the ghosts. For a moment, he manages to keep them at bay.

Then it happens.

The spirits surround Hiro, hitting him with fists and chairs and tables. While he's distracted, our mother's spirit flies straight at Hiro, twisting into a narrow streak of light. She goes directly into his mouth. Hiro screams as the spirit lights him up from the inside, and then he dashes over to the counter.

My dad raises his own chair and starts swinging it at me, and I try to dodge his attacks while running over to Hiro. Our mom's spirit is inside him—that can't be good.

Hiro grabs a knife from a block on the counter, and I know what he's going to do before he does it.

My baby brother takes the chef's knife in one hand and stabs himself through the chest.

Hiro collapses onto his back, and our mother's spirit rises from his body. I let out a guttural scream of grief and fury and rush toward Hiro. But as I turn around, my dad's chair comes down on the back of my head.

I collapse to the ground, stars exploding in my vision. My world is going dark.

"Hiro…"

I stretch my hand out, reaching for my dying baby brother.

I feel the chair hit the back of my head again, and my world goes black almost instantaneously.

The last thing I see is Hiro's spirit leaving his body with a high-pitched scream. He gasps a final breath and goes still.

My baby brother is dead.

I stand in the middle of a large room. A throne room. And on the throne sits my Heavenly Father.

"Tadashi," He says, a warm smile on His face. "Welcome."

"Father," I say, my voice breaking. "Hiro…he's dead. I can't live without him, Father…he's my everything. I have to take care of him. Honey would have helped, but I didn't get a chance to ask her to marry me…she's my everything too. But I can't live without Hiro, Father. Is…is there any way to save him?"

Heavenly Father smiles. "Yes, Tadashi. I need you to do two things. I need you to find Hiro's spirit and bring it back to his body. Then I need you to tell the lost spirits that I want them back. I love them, Tadashi, and Satan has no power over them if they believe."

"I'll do it," I say determinedly. "Can…can you help me, Father? I don't think I can do it alone."

He pulls me into a hug, stroking my hair. "Of course, my son. I will always be with you."

I open my eyes, my vision blurry and star-studded. My head hurts so bad I can barely focus. So does the rest of my body where the spirits hit me, but all of that pain is dwarfed by the sheer grief of Hiro dying.

Dragging myself over to Hiro's body, I gently pull the knife out of his chest and lay it on the ground beside him. My tears drip onto his mangled chest, but I can't cry for long. I can save him. I just need to track down his spirit.

I fold Hiro's hands over his sternum and stand up shakily. My head swims and I almost fall over. But I don't care. Hiro is so small and pale in death, with his messy dark hair spread across the tiles. Poor baby. He shouldn't be gone so young.

And he isn't.

I'm going to save him.

I limp through the streets, rubbing my throbbing head. There's a huge goose egg on the back of my skull, so tender I can hardly touch it without tears springing to my eyes.

"Owwww," I moan, collapsing against the side of a building. I need some Advil or something—I definitely have a concussion, as well as bruising all over my body. But I've got to keep going, or Hiro will be gone for the rest of my life.

The thought comes to me to check the cemetery. It does seem like a place where ghosts would hang out.

I step inside, the gate creaking. I should probably leave it open or I won't be able to get back through—there's no way I'd be able to squeeze through the bars.

Walking toward our parents' graves, I can see nine headstones lined up in a row. Not everyone has been buried. But they apparently still have graves.

I stop by Hiro's, kneeling down and reading the inscription. There is no date of death. And the inscription reads:

It always seems impossible until it is done.

Tears start to pour down my cheeks. He's going to be okay. I just need to get his spirit back and Hiro will be okay.

The spirit proves to be easy to find.

Hiro's ghostly form suddenly erupts from the grave with a howl of what sounds like anguish. He seems to be in pain, as if he's still being stabbed in the chest. His eyes are completely black, and his shirt is torn, exposing the wound in his sternum.

"Tadashi!" he wails, clutching at my shoulders. "Make it stop, please make it stop…" Tears slide down Hiro's ghostly face. "Please, Dashi!"

"Hiro, I need to get you back to your body!" I explain, cupping his face in my hands. "But I need you to come with me—"

"No, Dashi, I can't!"

"Hiro, come with me—"

"No!"

I try to grab Hiro by the shirt, and I'm amazed to discover that I can. Hiro howls again and tries to get away, but I hold on tight. He thrashes wildly, screaming, and the other spirits rise out of their graves and speed toward me.

Clutching Hiro's spirit to my chest, I begin to run, and I can feel strength I've never had before coursing through me. Hiro whips out a knife—why the flip do all the spirits have knives?—and starts slashing at every inch of me he can reach, still wailing at me to let him go. I manage to fend off most of the attacks, but the tip of the knife catches me across the cheek, then the shoulder. I won't last long if he hits in a vital area.

The other spirits are still streaking along behind me, and I struggle to dodge their attacks and Hiro's at the same time. It's nearly impossible, but I have to keep going.

Finally, the café is in sight. Now I'm bleeding all over, but I'm still running. I can't stop. Adrenaline and what I know is heavenly power is coursing through my veins.

I burst into the café, slamming and locking the door behind me. Hiro's spirit is still screaming, struggling furiously in my arms. I grit my teeth and sprint across the floor to Hiro's body, raising his spirit and then shoving it forcefully at my brother's still form.

Spirit and body merge, and Hiro gives a weak gasp, his eyes flying open.

"T-tadashi?" he rasps, his hand clutching his still-bloody chest.

"Hiro!" I scream, flinging my arms around him. "I thought…I thought—you were dead, Hiro! You were dead! And you—you tried to kill me—but it's alright, you were a spirit—where does it hurt, Hiro?"

Tears are streaming down my face. My baby brother is alive.

Hiro tries moving each of his limbs, wincing. "My chest…it's bleeding, Dashi…I think I need stitches…"

"Don't talk, then," I soothe, picking him up and stroking his soft hair. "I'll get you to the hospital. Dr. Armstrong will fix you there. Did they hurt you anywhere else? Don't talk if if hurts."

Hiro coughs weakly. "M-my head…one of them h-hit me with a chair. And my b-back…I think I p-pulled a muscle…and I feel b-bruised all over…"

I don't even register the pain in my own body, even though I remember that I'm hurt too. "All right. We're going to the hospital."

"B-but the s-spirits…"

I turn around and see the other spirits struggling to break through the windows of the café.

Oh dear.

That might be a problem.

I dash out to the garage and climb onto the moped, placing Hiro behind me.

"Hold on!" I yell, twisting the throttle as hard as I can. We burst out of the garage and down the street. The spirits notice and are soon in hot pursuit.

The ghostly figures start twisting around the wheels of the moped, trying to slow us down. It's working and I don't know how to make them stop. It's too dangerous to drive this way, but—

Suddenly, I feel a horrible jolt. The moped tips and skids across the street, throwing both Hiro and I off. I bounce across the road, tearing up my left side pretty bad. I can tell I'm bleeding even worse than before, and I feel a sharp pain in my ribs when I scramble up.

"Hiro?" I gasp, looking around frantically.

"Dashi!" Hiro screams, and I can see him struggling weakly on the pavement. Our mother's spirit stands over him, raising a transparent knife.

"No!" I yell, charging at them. Mom's spirit draws back, seeming unsure of what she was doing.

I stand over Hiro. "Don't touch him! None of you touches him! He's only fourteen!"

Please, Father. What do I do?

Then I remember.

"He wants you back!" I scream at the spirits, and they all seem to be pushed backwards. "God wants you back! He loves you—if you'll just—"

The pain is starting to get to me. I feel every bruise and scrape and cut from the battle and the crash. As a result, I think I'm imagining it when all of the spirits suddenly change from ice-blue mist to pure golden light.

I gaze up at them in wonder, and then I hear two words. One voice.

"Thank you."

My parents smile down at me, and then all the spirits vanish.

Shocked and dazed, I pull the moped upright and set Hiro on it. He seems only barely conscious, which isn't good.

"Hold on," I whisper, and he nods weakly. Trying to ignore the pain in my head and side, I twist the throttle and we speed off again.

When we get to the hospital, I haphazardly park the moped and limp into the building, cradling Hiro in my arms.

"Someone help," I gasp. "My baby brother's hurt…"

"Tadashi, what on earth?"

Dr. Armstrong, Hiro's regular physician, opens a door that I think leads to the emergency room. He takes one look at Hiro's bloody face and chest and says, "Bring him in here."

The doctor hurries over and holds out his arms. I practically throw Hiro into Dr. Armstrong and collapse against the wall with a groan.

"Tadashi, are you okay?" Dr. Armstrong yelps.

"I'm fine…I'm okay," I rasp, the world spinning. "I'm…"

My vision goes black.

HIRO

When I open my eyes, I feel a lot of tubes and wires hooked up to me. I have a terrible headache and my chest is throbbing and burning, and the rest of my body aches profoundly. The light is too bright and it hurts my eyes.

I struggle to sit up, but my whole body is sore and stiff and I think I would probably just get tangled up in the wires, so I stay down, turning my head to the side to get an idea of my surroundings.

There's an IV in my left arm, and an oxygen clip on my right index finger. Oxygen tubes have been connected to my nose, and there's a cuff on my right arm which I guess is measuring my blood pressure. Last but not least, I can feel some kind of pads taped to my chest. I'm hooked up to so many things I can barely move.

When my blurry vision focuses, I can see Tadashi passed out in a bed next to mine, but all he's got is a clip on his finger and bandages on his head, face, and shoulder. He's shirtless, too—all the girls would flip—whereas I'm clothed in only a hospital gown.

Dr. Armstrong suddenly walks into the room, looking worriedly at a clipboard.

"Hey," I rasp, my voice hoarse and scratchy.

"Hiro!" the doctor exclaims. "You're awake! How're you feeling?"

"Not great," I whisper. "Everything hurts. What—what happened?"

"You were stabbed!" Dr. Armstrong says emphatically. "In the chest!"

"I know that part. Did I pass out?"

"Yeah, your brother carried you in and then passed out himself. He's gonna be okay, though."

I breathe a sigh of relief, then wince as pain shoots through my chest. "What's wrong with him?"

Dr. Armstrong consults his clipboard. "A couple of fractured ribs, grade two concussion, various epidermal abrasions. No stitches and no intensive treatment. You, on the other hand…you looked pretty bad. You've now got seventeen stitches in your chest and a heck of a lotta gauze and band-aids, not to mention the heart monitor, IV, oxygen, and blood pressure cuff."

"What's actually wrong with me, though?" I ask.

"Deep laceration on sternum, various epidermal abrasions, strained latissimus dorsi, slight contusions on parietal bone of cranium, ilium, femur, and humerus, small lacerations on temporal and mandibular area, and that's about it."

"I understood about zero of what you just said. But thanks."

Dr. Armstrong laughs. "In short, you're pretty beat up. We're gonna keep you for a couple days, but you didn't need a transfusion or anything like that, so I'm hopeful for a complete recovery. You'll have a scar on your chest for probably the rest of your life, but that's the worst of it. Do you know who stabbed you?"

I shrug, not wanting to tell him. "It's all kind of a blur." That, at least, is true.

Dr. Armstrong pats my knee. "Don't worry, Hiro, it'll be okay. You'll both be fine. Just get some rest."

He leaves, and I relax. I think he, a man of science, would freak out if I told him my mother's spirit possessed me and I stabbed myself through the chest.

I'm pondering the mysteries of life (well, actually, I'm thinking about whether there might be any gummy bears available at this hospital) when I head a faint groan from off to my left. I struggle to sit up, but my head spins and I have to lay back down.

"Hiro?" Tadashi rasps. "What…what happened?"

"Dr. Armstrong said you passed out after bringing me in," I tell him. "You've got a concussion and some broken ribs, so be careful."

"What about you?" Dashi whispers. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm fine," I say, my voice weaker than I would like it to be. "Everything hurts. But I'm fine."

"I'm sorry," Dashi says. "Any idea how long we'll be here?"

I try to remember what Dr. Armstrong said. "I'll stay for a couple days. The doctor made it sound like you wouldn't be here for long."

Tadashi collapses back onto his pillow. "I'll stay here as long as you do. I'm not just gonna leave you alone in the hospital."

I smile. Tadashi never wants to let me go anywhere on my own. He's so protective he'd wrap me in bubble wrap if he could. I get hurt easily, so that might not be a bad idea.

"Hiro?" Dashi asks.

"Hmm?"

"I'm so glad you're okay."

Dr. Armstrong lets Tadashi leave after like two hours. But I'm so weak and shaky that he won't even let me sit up. It's really annoying, but he's right. My head hurts and my chest is still burning. I don't even remember hitting my head, so I have no idea when it happened. Probably crashing the moped—I don't have a concussion like Dashi, but there's a big bruise on the side of my head that really doesn't feel good. On top of that and my chest wound, I have scrapes and scratches and bruises all over the rest of my body. Everything hurts and I guess I don't really feel like being discharged yet.

On the third day of my hospital stay, I get to try standing up to take a shower. I actually manage the feat, despite my shaky legs and headache. I'm doing better, if not all the way healed. I won't be fully there for a while.

After five days of laying in bed and Tadashi sitting in a chair next to me, eating pizza, the hospital sends me home in a wheelchair. I don't want to use the wheelchair, but it's secretly a relief, since I'm still pretty shaky.

When Dashi and I get back to the café, I wheel myself inside and Tadashi carries me up the stairs to our room. As we cross to the stairs, I can't help but notice the blood splattered all over the café's floor, as well as the broken chairs lying abandoned on their sides. It looks like a massacre took place here. It almost did.

"Dashi," I ask as he places me on my bed, "what happened to the spirits? Are they…are they still…"

"They went home," Tadashi says softly. "I had help, though—God is a great guy. I talked to Him, Hiro. I hope you get to one day."

I stay silent for a moment, then, "Wow. That's…amazing, Dashi. Nobody but you could have done that."

"Nobody but God, Hiro. Nobody but Him."

Tadashi climbs into bed next to me and I snuggle against his chest, listening to his heart. It's still beating. So is mine. That is for sure a miracle. I shouldn't be alive by any medical standards.

My eyes start to close, and for the first time in a while, the last thing I feel when I fall asleep is peace.

TADASHI

I stand back in the throne room of heaven, gazing at my Father.

God holds out His arms. "I knew you could do it, my son. I'm so proud of you."

I step forward and embrace Him, wondering if this is how it feels to Hiro when I cuddle him. Or Honey when I kiss her. This warm, gentle feeling of light and peace.

"Is…is everything okay now?" I ask, knowing I sound a little childish.

"It's alright, Tadashi. Everything is going to be fine. You and Hiro will be okay. I will heal all your scars, and you will both return home to Me safely."

Tears of joy start to drip down my face. That's all I've ever wanted—for me and my baby brother to be together in the eternities. I guess everyone else is an added bonus.

"Thank you," I whisper, stepping back from the throne of God.

He smiles at me. "Go in peace, my son. Go in peace."

And finally, I know I can.