I do not own anything. Sadly.

Based off manga.


You were always so forgetful.

Whenever you wanted to go somewhere, you'd forget where it was you were going.

Even when you'd stopped numerous times, afraid of losing your way, we nudged you on.


You were always so unorganized.

There were so many things that would never see the light of day again because they met you.

Even when you mourned those losses, such silly items, we mourned with you.


You were always so klutzy.

There could be nothing but a painted line in your way and you always managed to trip over it.

Even when it seemed impossible to stand back up, we never did give in.


You were always so caring.

There is no one in this world so undeserving of your love than us.

Even when we were mad at you or scared you, god we're so sorry, you were always there.


What would we ever do without you?

How would things be between us all?


Without you…

The people we are now would not exist.



A World Without You, Usagi Tsukino, is insignificant.

"All rise for the honorable judge Urazaki."

Many forms shifted to stand, bones creaked and feet shuffled uncomfortably, but no one said a word. Such an itchy, awkward silence, so suffocating it had men loosening their collars just to inhale the lip drying proximity. Soon the slamming of a gavel ushered the minimal audience to take a seat and the stale atmosphere morphed into a tingling cloud of anticipation.

The rousing of papers, tapping of feet, coughing; it was all maddening.

"Yes, yes. Here we are," the judge, Urazaki, muttered as he ran a hand through his thinning hair. Clearing his throat he continued, "Would the defendant please rise for her sentencing."

Letting out a shaky sigh the abnormally tall brunette obeyed his wishes from behind the defendant's table. Holding her chin high and expression fierce she awaited her fate.

"After reviewing your case I have come to a conclusion. Without any substantial evidence of actual participation in a gang related crime I'm going to minimize your punishment. The assault charges have been dropped, but due to the fact that the plaintiff, Mr. Isamu, was able to place you at the scene of the crime on the class two misdemeanor charges and the lack of your recollection of your whereabouts I am forced to sentence you to sever 200 hours of community service with an additional $250 fine. Addressing the community service issue means you'll have to check in with a probation officer at the end of every week with a signed slip from your employer dictating the amount of hours you have served at said designated place, is that clear?"

She nodded solemnly.

"Once the hours have been served, I wish to see you back at this time in one month to hear about all the wonderful morals you have learned. We shall discuses any further punishment following; if you fail to show we will be forced to initiate a warrant for your arrest." He rubbed a couple fingers against a temple, trying to fight an oncoming headache. "Oh, and Ms. Kino, I suggest you shape up. I'd hate to see you back in my courtroom beforehand or thereafter, do you understand?"

Again, all Makoto Kino could do was nod.

"Court is adjourned."

And with the final word from the judge's gavel everyone filtered from the courtroom; only a small select feeling any sense of relief.

Rain pattered away at the window, claiming the silence of the cramped, stuffy apartment for itself. Occasionally, the distance shouts or footsteps of a passerby would stir an irritated sigh from the only occupant of the space, followed by a page in a book being turned. Lips pursed into a determined line, royal blue eyes focused, concentrated, but it was only so long before the entrancing curtain of liquid called for their attention. Fingertips tapped against a flushed cheek, annoyed.

There wasn't much that could keep her from her literature nor was it an easy task to aggravate someone so composed and practiced.

Mother Nature had a different plan it seemed.

Ah, how she hated the rain. Hated how no matter how long she stood in the rain, it wouldn't accomplish a bit of anything but catch her cold. Hated how amazingly relieving the cool drops could be, but couldn't cure a single of her problems. Not the simplest calculus equation or even tell her the atomic number for Hydrargyrum. Not a single problem. And was she ever the problematic person.

Turning downcast eyes back to her book, Ami Mizuno settled into the dim light of her solitary desk lamp once more.

Many people ran for the covering the over hanging awnings, some used coats and news papers as temporary umbrellas, but none roaming the streets of Tokyo could escape the bitter cold wind. While people huddled into taxis and doorways one young woman in particular chose to embrace the weather while perched upon a curb. With her arms spread wide she turned her face to the gloomy sky only to find herself face to face with a single glamorous advertisement pasted among the tall, grimy office buildings. True, Tokyo had them plastered at every eye catching moment possible, but something about this one stirred an unsettling feeling deep within her gut.

Painted lashes created a drowsy sense about the billboard as they hung low over chocolate eyes, beckoning a person to stare just a bit longer. Parted red lips seem to whisper sweet nothings into the hazy atmosphere, promising nothing yet everything at the same time. Pale skin, so flawless and glowing compared to the dingy metal backdrop; it was so impossibly stunning it hurt her eyes to look at.

Such a horrible, taunting sight…

The sound of a blasting horn broke her back to reality, startled her, and forced her to clear her vision of lashing blonde locks. When had that happened? Clutching tightly at the long tresses, she fought back the tears threatening to slip onto her frozen cheeks. That could have been her face up there… Could be completely comfortable in some pricey flat of her own… She could be the one sprawled across some posh carpet in front of a lit fireplace right now… Could have made something of herself… No cares in the world…

Now look at her: waiting for the six o'clock bus, wearing outlet and thrift store clothing, clutching a paper bag nabbed from a grocery store. Normally she would have found nothing wrong with such materialistic things, but now all she could reflect upon them was as one vast step back from where she could, should, be in life. So many aspirations so easily dashed all at once. So many friendships ruined. How nothing pleased anyone, nothing pleased them.

She took a step off the curb, towards the oncoming traffic, before taking two back.

How cowardly Minako Aino had become…

In another place, at a similar time, another beautiful young woman stood alone in the rain dressed in a silky white gown. Fortunately enough for this young lady, the graying sky was enough warning for her to grab her umbrella. However, with the passing of circumstances it now laid at her feet, collecting rain water in its upturned dome. Raindrops hugged her lashes, dripped off the ends of her ebony bangs.

Today was not supposed to be so miserable. Today was to run perfectly. Today was supposed to be one of the few days she stepped down those stairs feeling good about the way she looked, moved, and truly felt.

He had called her up late in the day; he was the only one who had ever called. It had not been scheduled like many of the other meetings they had held on that one particular day of the year, yet she had thought nothing of it… but nothing about today had been planned.

He told her to dress nice.

He told her it was a very special occasion.

He told her his driver would come for her in one hour.

He never told he loved her when he hung up. Ever.

She understood though. She was an obligation handed to him by her father and he was never to make anything more of it. And yet, a long time ago he had broken that unspoken pledge and together they had stood in the rain and shared a kiss. She had waited for five years, growing bitter an angry, and then finally he had called her on her nineteenth birthday. He had told her that his marriage had blown through, that everything was falling apart. Told her he needed to talk, to see her once more.

And that's exactly what happened. He came crawling on his knees, spilt his heart to her while she watched in reserved silence, and then he left. They had spoken a few times throughout the last year, but nothing as intense. Words were softer, from both sides. She felt herself reverting back to the silly fourteen year old girl she had been. But, today had dashed any last delusion she had persevered within the light of love and hope.

When his driver had come to escort her to the car, he had looked her up and down, and asked why she was dressed in white.

'What is wrong with white?' It had been a chilly reply, but it got to the point.

'The bride will be wearing white.'

Turns out it was his turn to fall in love. He had kept it a secret, wanting to surprise her with his lovely blushing bride. He had wanted her to be happy for him, what else? He saw her as a younger sister. Someone he could chat innocently with and rely on to listen in return.

But… what about her? It was a selfish thought of course, but he was the foundation of selfishness.

She had been fourteen when he had first lied to her.

She was twenty now.

She had always loved him, even after she vowed to never again.

Now, in this nostalgic rain soaked instant, Rei Hino was able to lie to herself and finally believe it.

"How dreadfully boring."

"The weather man predicts it ain't gonna get much better anytime soon."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. But, I'unno, the weather has been real wonky lately," the voluptuous red head smacked her gum just the right way after ever word to where it visibly made her boss cringe. Not to mention it was almost painful watching her Monroe like 'beauty mark' twitch with every slow, drawled word. Why did he even try to carry out a conversation with this woman?

Dear Lord, why was she still his assistant?

Because every woman you hire ends up either on your desk or in your bed by the end of her first day on the job, he reminded himself bitterly. Even when said rumors were most defiantly not true, or at least completely over exaggerated, he wasn't going to let it get the better of him. Besides, with Ms. Migurushii as his assistant he would not be tempted to give into the distasteful slander; and she didn't do her job half bad, but it seemed that she needed a little help herself… like with that giant main of tangled red mass she called hair.

"Oh, shoot. You know what I forgot to tell ya'? You were supposed to attend a wedding today," ruby red lips pursed into a pouty expression as she messed with a few buttons on her palm pilot, "but I guess it's too late now."

Maybe he had spoken too soon.

"Who was the invitation sent by?" The young man had to rub the bridge of his nose as he tried to tame an oncoming migraine. Carefully, he leaned back in his reclining office chair, feet propped up on his desk. Only twenty three and he could feel his hair falling out by the roots, metaphorically at least. He pulled at his prized golden locks. Not a single hair came loose.


"Uhm. Says here a… Mr. Kaidou Haruto? Some political bigwig, I bet. Probably got hundreds of guests goin'! Won't notice ya' missin'!" She flashed her boss a reassuring smile, the best she could muster he imagined, but the tapping of a black stiletto heel against the thick carpet gave her away. Such an unattractive habit, really.

"Ms. Migurushii, what is my name?" He asked, calmly setting his feet down so he could lean across the desk surface and gently tap an index finger against the top of the openly presented name tag.

"Err… Jayden Haru… to?" The woman's eyes widen in recognition. "YOU MISSED YOUR OWN BROTHER'S WEDDING!"

With a grumble he slammed the car door shut, dusting off the pesky raindrops clinging to the strand of his long hair. Today seemed like such a blur, person after person blabbing about nothing. Faceless, nameless chatter that came and went much like the assaulting gusts of wind. The stuffy, dreamy atmosphere was something he couldn't escape. It had only been five in the morning moments ago; his alarm clock hadn't even gone off. It never did. He was always punctual and perfect. Robotic.

It was starting to scare him.

Day after day was rudimentary, the same as the last day. He talked to the same people, about the same subjects, acting like it was completely planned. A flurry of vague conversations, a passing glance of fresh faces in the crowd on the street, of people he'd never see again was the only mutation to his day. God, a strike of lightening would excite his damned life, but even the rain had been expected. How unfortunate that the weather could so much as screw him over in the oddest way possible.

"Where is it you'd like to go, mister?" He lounged back into the hard leather cushion of the taxi cab, trying to seem as composed as anything as his and the cab drivers gaze met in the rearview mirror. "Well?"

"I'd like to go to…" He stopped himself from handing out the address of his forlorn one bedroom apartment to the man. He knew that if he went home now his life would go on as it had always: he'd turn the TV onto the same channel, watch the same program while picking at the usual Chinese food, before heading off to shower and sleep. His day would then seemingly rewind itself and play over tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.

"Come on guy, I don't have all day here," came the gruffly annoyed voice of the taxi driver as he pulled into the traffic, enticing heated honks from passing cars.

It was ten o'clock in the evening now, where could he go?

"The best coffee shop in Tokyo, please."

Well, his problem wasn't where he was going, but how exactly it was he was going to get there. And… how he got to where he was at that moment.

He should be somewhere… right… Opening the map he flipped it every which way he could possibly manage. He examined the different dots and cross roads, but his brow only creased in further bewilderment.

Tokyo was home to some of the brightest minds inhabiting the world, one of the main reasons he had journeyed so far, but how they traveled even a block in such a dreadfully confusing city was far beyond his knowledge; which was quiet extensive he had to add. Or, maybe it was constructed for only the most simple minded to interpret.


Then again, it had only three hours among the towering skyscrapers he'd become so bedazzled he had lost his way to his hotel. He had to hand it to them; it was an ingenious advertisement plan. Trap the voyaging explorer in an odd world of glittering lights to the point where he's so dazed he must use the desired currency to find his way to said designated safety!


He brushed it off as an easily made mistake any average country boy would come across, yet he still scolded himself for such paranoia.

Besides, it really didn't help him much when no one was willing to give him directions. It's not like he had made the customary tourist mistake of not caring to brush up on the language and culture, he had been studying Japanese for a great deal of time, it's just… in the excitement of the moment he had lost himself to the point where there was just no one to ask!

It was ludicrous how effortlessly it was for one to lose their composer in the heat of a childhood fantasy come true. It's not like he hadn't ever been anywhere before, he had traveled across many great countries, having the pleasure to have a sweet taste at most all kinds of extravagant cultures… But Japan? So many great things and people hailed from such a land! Karaoke, floppy disks, instant ramen!

It was just as spectacular as he imagined!

Yet… here was… ranting yet again.

Zacharie Ambrose ran a hand through his thick locks thinking about how much worse things could possibly get; how much more pathetic he could possibly look, sitting alone in the rain on children's swings, wholly lost, with just a plastic map of Tokyo and high hopes.

There was nothing like the feeling of wind rushing through your hair, trying with all its awesome might to deter you from your goal, or the rain splashing into your face, clouding your vision. No matter how fast your teeth chattered or how badly your lungs stung from the cold night air you didn't dare think of stopping; the adrenaline alone could keep you going for days. No, it was most defiantly an exuberating experience that was one must experience for him or herself. The excitement, the danger!

What real danger can there be at riding your bike five miles per hour down a slight incline other than a bad road rash?

Uh. A really bad road rash… ? He grimaced as the thought, as well as the image of him passed out on the side of the road kissing the asphalt, tumbled through his mind. Absurd realist thoughts! Always reigning down on his parade and killing all the fun in his everything. Then again, he could also curse such exciting weather for casting him off into lala land as he mindlessly peddled along the outskirts of city life. Someone could seriously get hurt.

Damnit! There is was again! Stupid voice! Stupid, stupid voice!

How could you curse such fortune weather? Tokyo had been nothing but scorching hot only a few weeks ago, wilting all his poor potted plants sitting out front. Rain brought life and vibrancy to another aspect of the city; no matter how artificial, corporate, and cold most of the foliage was scattered about! While there were plenty of people flouncing around, living a carefree and radiant lifestyle in their materialistic little minds, there defiantly was a lack of lush foliage to bring little natural color to the gleaming city.

Rain was a blessing!

The only real thing he could complain about was the fact that the stars were blanketed by a thick wool layer of impending gray which put a dent on his good mood. The only thing he enjoyed more than a good bike ride in the rain and brilliantly green plants was being able to gaze up at the stars. They soothed all his worries, but tonight it seemed the meager problems would have to fester for another time. That also meant he'd have to live with the little rational voice in the back of his head. Urg.

But, it wouldn't be long before the rain cooled further, eventually becoming snow, and in the end, that would finally give into spring.

And boy, Nethanial Garrard Holtz loved spring.

Sorry for any errors in either grammar or possible misunderstanding of anything law. ]:

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