AN: Hi people! XD Sorry, no new chapters for everything until schools is out, which is only a few days, but no worries! I have this for you guys. ^_^ And~ a song~ :O And awesome song! Okay, so song:

watch?v=7EZTUYwjWBs&ob=av2n

Okay, so that's it! Wish me luck with my finals! :O

~Misty

Why do it?

Miharu sighed as he leaned Sora against the wall of his home; the okonimiyaki restaurant. Sora looked up with pleading, eyes, looking so pitiful with the one black eye; Miharu couldn't help but frown as he gently touched the side of Sora's pale cheek.

"How are you feeling?" He asked in a low, unthreatening tone. Sora looked away from his welcoming green eyes and down to the rain-drenched ground. He didn't have an answer; he was sure Miharu meant physically, and physically, he was okay, but mentally he wasn't. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen; Miharu was never meant to get involved in his messed up life, but now he was, and it made Sora tremble with unimaginable guilt.

Miharu saw this tremble and the look in his eyes and let Sora rest on his shoulder again as he helped Sora stand up.

"Come on… Let's get you inside…" He said softly. It wasn't necessary for Miharu to carry Sora, even though the stairs did cause some energy to drop from his body, but Miharu still did anyway. It was him who carried him from his hell, he carried him onto the bus, off of the bus, down the streets and up the stairs, and now Miharu carried him into the sanctuary of his home where it was warm, dry, and safe, and that was a fact that caused some relief to wash over Sora and replace the missing energy.

Miharu rested Sora down on the slight incline in their floor before taking his shoes off, and when he finished, he offered to help Sora with his shoes, but it was only now that the two young men noticed that with all the commotion, Sora never got his shoes when they left. They only things he had from his so called home were the clothes he were wearing and the thoroughly soaked towel that was used to wrap up Sora's arm. Miharu let out a heavy breath and ran his fingers through his rheumy hair while he extended a hand out to Sora, not surprised when Sora took it willingly and was helped up. Sora's guard had always been up, and now after the moment that had just occurred, he dropped it; no longer up, Sora simply gave in to everything, but he knew that with Miharu, it was safe to do so.

"Why don't we get you something dry to wear, and then something to eat?" Miharu suggested calmly, and Sora answered with a nod.

"… Okay…" He said quietly, looking for answers in Miharu's eyes. He needed to know what to do, where to go, how to handle everything, but at the moment, he'd have to wait. He knew Miharu wouldn't steer him wrong, even though they had only just met.

"I think my fathers' clothes will fit you, he's pretty tall too." Miharu said, helping Sora into the other room. There were no costumers, thankfully, so it was to their advantage at the moment. Sora was thankful for this too, he didn't want anyone to see him in such a weak state; it was enough that Miharu had seen him already. No one else needed to see him this way.

In the other room, the two boys' could hear talking, frantic and somewhat upset, and they could only wonder before two women walked into the dining area. One was obviously Miharu's grandmother, but Sora was quite surprised himself to see a taller, older, and a feminine version of Miharu, standing next to her. The two women looked over, and instantly the younger of the two looked serious.

"Miharu Rokujo!" She barked rather loudly, not even noticing Sora next to him.

"Mom…?" Miharu asked. "W-What are you doing here? I thought you and dad wouldn't be back from America in another month?" It became oblivious to Sora that Miharu got all his looks from his mother; he distantly wondered what person would miss it.

"Oh well that was the plan, but I decided I wanted to come back and see my boy for a bit." Miharu's mother smiled, but that quickly faded. "But wouldn't you know it that to my surprise, when I get here, you've ditched school and no one knows where the hell you are!" She yelled. Miharu looked down at his feet, but behind his back, he still held onto Sora's hand.

"I-I'm sorry… I just…" Miharu seemed to kick at air with one foot, embarrassed that he was getting punished right in front of Sora. "S-Sora, this is my mother; Asahi Rokujo…" Miharu introduced, not knowing what else to say. Asahi looked up from her son to the taller boy behind her, but she seemed to go quite pale with imminent surprise. She wasn't expecting to see someone so sickly standing next to her son. The poor boy was beaten; a black eye, a thin body, pale skin, an arm wrapped up in a bloody towel; he looked like he was standing at deaths door step.

"Mom, this is my… Friend, Sora." Miharu said, pausing. He wasn't sure if he could count Sora as a friend, he knew they were, but there was something else, something different that made it different from friendship.

"Oh my…" Miharu's grandmother said from behind Asahi. "What happened?" She asked.

"W-Well I was coming home, but he was heading to school and he got hit by a car." Miharu fibbed. "I had to do something, mom." Miharu said. Sora now felt so vulnerable, and he felt that he being there was not helping the situation. He felt that if it wasn't for him, Miharu wouldn't be in trouble; he wouldn't have left school for his sake or be yelled at by his mother.

"Sora, why don't you go and wait in my room," Miharu convinced him; besides, Sora was sure he wasn't needed at the moment. Sora nodded his head and gently let go of Miharu's hand, loathing the feeling as the cold crept up on his warm skin that was previously incased in Miharu's hand. Miharu's grandmother and Asahi watched the sickly looking boy walk away and once he disappeared into the hall, Asahi sighed.

"Miharu, I need to talk to you…" She announced, and her mother understood. She groaned quietly as she left her child and grandson alone in the room, thinking maybe she should check on Sora. When she left, Asahi walked to her child and pulled his wet jacket off. "Miharu," she began. "What really happened?" She asked, folding the jacket and resting it on a chair next to him.

Miharu was more than shocked to know that his mother had seen past his tricky facade, but then again, she was his mother, she was more than likely the person who invented that trick.

"What do you mean?" Miharu asked, still trying to deny what had really happened to Sora.

"Miharu, getting hit by a car may screw up his arm, but you don't get a black eye from it, or get that pale or that thin…" She said, bending down to be at eye level with her child. "Come on, Miharu, I know better." She said, pinching his nose. When Miharu was able to free himself, he felt he had no choice but to tell her. Besides, she was someone who you could go to and talk to; she didn't gossip bad things for fun.

"He was being beaten… I didn't know what to do." Miharu said, leaving out the part about being beaten by his father; he wasn't quite sure if he was ready to trust someone enough to release that information, or the information that he actually witnessed it because he was there. Asahi sighed as she patted her young boy's head, smiling to him in a comforting manner.

"You're growing up…" She said.

"Eh?"

"I'm proud of you, Miharu… But don't ever do it again or you're grounded." Asahi said in a disapproving manner. "Okay?" She flashed a big smile. Miharu chuckled and smiled back.

"Okay mom," He said. "Can Sora stay here for a few days…? Just until he gets better…?" Miharu asked, worried his mother may disapprove.

"Well…" His mother began. "I'll call your father and talk to him; I think he needs to know what's going on." Asahi said. "But until then, go feed him, he's a walking skeleton." Asahi smacked her son across his backside and pushed him forward.

"Thanks mom," Miharu said, his heart filling with that past hope he once felt. He watched his mother wave her hand at him while reaching for her phone before running out of the room like a child on Christmas. He jogged up the stairs to his room and nearly did a skidding stop as he came to his door. He didn't want to seem too eager or rushed and calmed his nerves before walking in and looking at Sora. Miharu's grandmother was wrapping some gauze around his arm, making sure to keep it tight, but not too tight; she didn't want to cut off the blood circulation.

"Hey," Miharu said, but it was more to announce that he was in the room to Sora and his grandmother. Sora didn't look up, but Miharu's grandmother turned her head and smiled.

"Oh, hello dear, I'm just finishing with your friend." She said, tucking the wrap up under itself. Sora winced at it, but it wasn't as much pain as it was earlier when his father was beating him to death.

"Thank you grandma," Miharu said, walking further into his room and shutting the door behind him. Now he looked towards Sora and noticed that the blood was off of his face and arm; he was wearing his father's clothes to keep him warm, and his grandma had cleaned away all the blood and dirt, so now he looked better than he did before, but it was still obvious that there were problems hiding, denying the truth from the outside world.

"Alright, all done," His grandmother said, tapping Sora's knee. "Now I'll go tell your mother to make something, you rest young man." She urged before sitting up, sighing as her old bones cracked and scratched together. Miharu then walked to where she sat by Sora, taking her place as his grandmother left the room.

"How are you feeling?" Miharu asked. Sora's head hung rather low and it made Miharu tilt his head down to see his friend's face better.

"I'm fine…" Sora mumbled quietly, his bangs and fringe hiding his face. Miharu heard a bit of uncertainty, but he didn't want to push anything, he didn't want to do anything that would make Sora upset.

"Are you sure…?" He asked. Sora nodded his head. "Well… Are you hungry? If not then my mom doesn't need to coo-"

"Why?" The question seemed to come out of nowhere, but Miharu felt it became hard to swallow when he heard the pain in his friend's voice. He was afraid to answer, he didn't want to say anything that would cause Sora to be any more upset, but Sora wanted an answer. "Miharu why?"

"… I… I wanted to help…" Miharu said, plain and simple, but he knew that wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"Why? Why do it for someone like me?" Sora asked, his face still hiding behind his bangs, but his hands gripped at his boney knees.

"… You're my friend…" Miharu said, honestly and sweetly. Again he could tell that wasn't the answer Sora was looking for, but that was all he knew. They were friends, and that was all that mattered. Miharu could hear Sora's breath hitch and he gently touched the back of his hands, rubbing little circles on his ice cold skin. Sora blindly reached out for his hand, and when he found it, he collapsed onto Miharu's small shoulder, pushing his face into Miharu's neck by force. Miharu didn't mind, he understood why Sora was doing this, and he was more than willing to let Sora do it.

"Miharu…" Sora whimpered. "M-Miharu…" He kept repeating his friend's name over and over again.

"It's okay Sora… You're safe and with me…" Miharu had it wrong. When he said, 'safe and with me,' they both meant, whenever he is safe, he's with Miharu, and when he's with Miharu, he's safe. Sora figured it out within a matter of seconds and whimpered more, trying so hard not to cry, but it was unavoidable and the tears came anyway. They spilled past his cheeks down onto Miharu's waiting skin and soaked through the fabric of his still wet shirt. Miharu let his other hand push Sora's hair behind his ear and tucked it neatly away, revealing the boy's soft features.

Sora looked up with wide, glassy, blue eyes, still crying with a small sniffle escaping him before he looked away to their hands that were tangled together. Miharu's was gently caressing the side of his face, warming his cold cheek with his tender touch.

"You're still wet…" Sora mumbled, somewhat distracted and somewhat tired.

"Ah, yeah, I haven't had the chance to get out of these clothes yet…" Miharu murmured. He figured he should since he'd catch a cold if he didn't, but he couldn't bring himself to do it; he didn't want to ruin this moment.

"You'll catch a cold…" Sora mumbled. Miharu noticed Sora's finger's from one hand poking a button on his shirt, but he didn't question it until a button came undone. "You should change…" Sora said, making it seem like he didn't want Miharu catching a cold; he was truly worried for him.

"I'm fine…" Miharu said. Sora looked up with disapproving eyes, not happy with the idea. Miharu was slightly taken by surprise with this look, but it only occurred to him now that he and Sora were very close together; their noses were brushing together and their breathes mingled quietly while their eyes did all of the talking. Miharu used the hand against Sora's cheek to move him, and it didn't take long until their lips were together again.

Though there was doubt, Miharu knew that this moment wouldn't end this time; there was nothing stopping them; no father, no school, and with that in his mind, he gently tipped Sora onto the mattress below them, their lips still remaining joined together. Sora wrapped his arms around Miharu's shoulders, momentarily giving in; he didn't want this to end. If this was a dream, and he were to wake up back in his home with his father and brother, then he wanted it to keep going, for it to never end and to remain in Miharu's arms.