My perfectly manicured hand gently poured the sparkling apple juice into the five plastic cups layed out on the table. With great concentration, I didn't spill a drop.

I smiled proudly at my teammates. My leader, the Uno, had been watching me, and smiled at my accomplishment.

The British boy grabbed his glass from the table. He took a sip and sighed in relief to the freshness of the sparkling apple juice that my mom had, just a few hours ago, bought from that fancy supermarket.

The team consisted of only five of us. There was Giligan. The smartest person I knew. You could almost feel the pun he was about to say before he said it. Everyone seemed to be friends with him.

The next was me. The bubbly Sanban. I love my last name. If I ever got married, I would make my husband take my last name. The same would go with my best friend, the Lincoln sister.

After that was the Beatles boy. He took my breath away. The fierceness radiating off of him was hardly imaginable. The way he could take on the world by himself, no one could hardly compare.

The last was the Lincoln sister. The calmness that she had, it just always seemed to rub off on you. I still haven't met anyone that could hold a grudge against her.

"So..." The Beatles boy said, "Graduation huh?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Hard to believe it's here. We've been through so much..." My voice trailed off as I remembered our time in the kids next door.

The lincoln sister smiled softly and put her arms around my shoulders. "It's alright girl. Besides, this is one small step towards the rest of our lives. I can picture it now. I'll have two little girls. Cree and Abby. Sounds good huh?"

The Beatles boy gave his famous fearless smile. "Yeah. I swear one day I'm gonna have a son named Wallabee."

The Uno raised an eyebrow. "Wallabee? Please. My son is gonna be named Nigel. Nigel Uno. Nice ring to it huh?"

The Gilligan boy laughed. "You people don't know how to name kids. My son's name is goona be Hoagie."

I smirked. "That names sounds like a type of sausage. Besides, what's with you guys and having boys? I'm gonna have a girl named Mushi."

The lincoln sister shook her head and said, "Isn't that name kinda cooky?"

I smiled. "No! That's a perfect name! Kuki Sanban! That's my little girl!"


A few minutes later, we had all gathered in our usual dinner table. We had chosen it early on in the graduation. We had watched as kids went to the stand, give a small speech, and finally get handed to them their diploma.

The Beatles boy sat down, tears sweeping down his face. But somehow still as firce as I remember. He sniffled, and reached for a photo album. We all bit our lips, but looked over his shoulder to see the beloved pictures.

There were pictures of five kids, smiling at a camera. One kid had dark skin, wearing her trademark red hat. Another was a small Brit, wearing a red shirt, determination streaming through the lens of the camera. Next, was a fairly big child wearing piolet goggles, his intelligence shining through. The next was a young Japanese girl, with raven colored hair, somehow every part of her was smiling. The last was a small Australian boy wearing a orange hoodie, his famous fearless and reckless grin crossing his face.

The rest of the pictures were the children doing anything they felt like. Running, hiking, smiling brightly at their new report card. Then suddenly, the pictures got more dark. Out of random, one of the kids were suddenly missing in the pictures. There were pictures of a funeral, and the children's faces were now cold, hard, and full of sadness.

The Beatles boy's tears got more thick, no longer being able to stay on his face. His tears fell, and dropped down on the luminant paper.

I hugged his shoulders. "Come on Beatles. He wouldn't have wanted you to mourn over him this long. We're here for you."

He buried his face in his hands. I expected him to. How could someone celebrate someone elses child, when theirs isn't here?

He'll never see Wallabee walk across the stage on graduation. He'll never see his son's eyes dance as he tells him that he's a father. He'll never see his son getting his first job.

But in his memory, he'll always hear his sons reckless and fearless laugh whenever he shed a tear mourning his death.