I do not own anything. I tried to write differently for Amu's and Ikuto's POV's. I figured that usually women are more sentimental than men, and Amu does seem more like that than Ikuto who seems more straight to the point. I hope you like it.

"Loose, worn jeans… Drooping, gray pullover hoodie… Scratched-and-beat-up, black sneakers… Great~." I drew out the last word sarcastically. The image of me reflected in the bathroom mirror could have easily passed as a hobo or worse a serial killer, but what was I supposed to do? Dressing up would basically be flaunting, but dressing down would be insulting.

I didn't have another second to drown in my self-pity, before my mother appeared at my doorway. If that glint in her hazel eyes meant anything to me, it didn't mean anything fortuitous.

"Sweetie~," She dragged my nickname with such radiating malicious intent. "You're going on a date with Yoru, and you're disgracing yourself with that! Right when you've finally caught a man who can take care of you."

The loose caramel curls, falling from her bun, framed that frightening, bone-chilling smile. She wore the stylish new outfit from the latest magazine; nonetheless, the image of a mother could have been seen through the aging lines on her face, although the mother I remember cradling me was nowhere in her right now. The woman right now was the mother who pushed me to the Tsukiyomi brothers whenever the chance arose.

"It's cool, Mama. Papa's little sparrow is just measuring her wings and seeing what clothes suit her." My endearing father, always eschewing men from me, rested a hand on Mom's shoulder, trying to calm her.

A part of her missed that father, who always protected her and cried whenever he saw her growing up. Now, after the years of middle school, He had rubbed the sharp edges of his disdain for suitors and had learned that subtle persuasion was better, even when he always threw himself in the bathroom and sulked over her childhood photo albums in secret.

"Dear, stay outside." In her husband's presence, her sharp features softened only ever so slightly that I was the only one who noticed. Before closing the bathroom door, he threw me an apologetic look and waved. I gave him a shrug and a smile. My smile fell as Mama suddenly appeared in front of me with the clothes I had hid in the deep confines of my closet.

I knew what was next to come. All effort was futile. All I could do was be compliant with the tearing of clothes and squeezing into those *shivers* clothes; but if I did that, then I wouldn't be a Hinamori. I did what all Hinamori's would hope—hope that if I screamed and thrashed around enough, I wouldn't have to wear them.

Dead Boyfriend's Brother

The usual place, that Yoru and I had found as kindergarteners, was hidden under the shadow of a cliff; it was littered with sharp and dull rocks, continuously sharpened by the crashing waves. The shallow waters were clear and cool here and always replicated the color of the sky, whether it be sunset, dusk, or twilight.

I seated myself atop the tallest dull rock as my throne that held perfect view of the glaring sun. When the waters stilled after the wave's crash, the reflective surface would mirror me. The short, red dress puffed out at the end. I was pretty sure that these rocks had ripped the fine black leggings that my mother pulled me into. The experience of being forced into these clothes had been stress-inducing, but the cause of her pink curls surely left nightmares in their midst. I had abandoned the leather jacket and my red flats on another rock and dearly hoped, like any Hinamori, that it would get lost in the waves.

"Yoru, when are you getting here?" In a curled ball, I whispered to myself, glancing at the pink phone in one hand.

Dead Brother's Girlfriend (Ikuto)

"Are you sure it was smart to give Yoru your motorcycle?" My devious younger sister glared at me with her amethyst gems. She and I sat there in her favorite ramen restaurant.

"Is Japan's heartless ice queen pop singer caring for her itty-bitty brother?" I challenged her with the traditional smirk. Both finished with our food, we idly took residence in a family friend's restaurant.

"Ikuto, seriously," She rolled her eyes at me, tired of the older brother teasing. "You never let Yoru take the motorcycle. What makes now any different?" Sometimes, I wish my sister didn't have a discerning eye; but if that happened, where would she have found Kukai, that soccer geek.

"Nothing, Utau. I have to give him some room. He is growing." I stated, but she gave me that eye roll.

"It's Amu. God, I never know what it is about her. Besides, I always thought she would end up with you. You guys seemed like you were newly-weds." She groaned, grabbing another sip of her soda.

"Really?"

"Don't sound too surprised, Brother. It was so annoyingly obvious that I would have hanged myself if it weren't for Yoru's interventions. Yoru is the epitome of an intervening third-wheel." She sadistically laughed as if my misery was her joy.

"Well, no more suicide attempts from teenage pop sensation, then, I'm guessing?" A cheery voice rang through their ears. A familiar college girl with jade-green hair hopped into a seat next to me. There was always a surprise visit whenever Lulu was concerned.

"And why is that?" Utau flashed her one of her death glares mixed with her dagger glares.

"Amu rejected Ikuto's poor butt just last night, after waiting hours at her front porch." Lulu retorted back, shining her most people-pleaser smile. Ah, so this was the reason of the visit—making sure you had great relations with Utau. Girls were too devious for mankind's own good.

"What?! And you never thought of mentioning it." Lulu reverted Utau's anger to me… Yup, girls and their ulterior motives were too much. Why couldn't I always have Amu's clear mind?

"Why, I'm sorry, Utau. Next time when I experience heartbreak, I'll immediately inform the person who will pour acid and salt on my wounds." I sarcastically remarked, taking a swig of my water.

"See—"

RING! RING! RING!

On the table, my phone lit up with the said girl's name, piquing both girls' interest.

"Isn't Amu supposed to be on her date?" Lulu grinned impishly but gracefully.

"But she's calling you. I think we have a scandal on our hands." Utau smirked.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not answering it." I sighed. My hand reached for the phone, but Utau pressed the "answer" and "speaker" button. I would have slammed on "end call"; but her crying siren voice froze us all. The girl that could have persuaded me into murder quivered with fear and sorrow.

"I-Ikuto… Yoru's dead."

Thanks for reading, and I'm sorry for killing you, Yoru!