Sora walked to school alone that day. He wanted to think.

You always want to think though Sora! You never relax...

Shut up. He didn't want to think about that right now. Think about her right now. It wasn't that time.

Awww but you never have time for me anymore Sora!

No. She needed to stay in that locked off corner of his mind, far away from him.

...Onii-chan, you don't really mean that do you?

He didn't. He never did. He missed her too damn much to mean that.

Yay! I knew you weren't that mean Onii-chan!

But if she kept talking he wouldn't be able to escape. He'd go back to that day.

But you always remember that day when we talk!

And that was the problem.

He could never escape that day. The day where he'd stood up for someone.

"Alright you two, just give us the money and it'll all be okay."

A ten year old with grey eyes looked at the man with the knife in fear. Behind him was a much smaller girl, about seven. "B-b-but we don't have any money!"

"Kid, don't mess with me. Son and daughter of the Namikaze Duo? You bastards are loaded. Give us the cash and we'll go."

The two glanced at each other, hopeless looks in their eyes. Neither had any money on them, of course. They rarely brought money with them on their way to school. It was pointless.

The thief sighed. "Fine, I'll just take the girl and be on my way... You can get the ransom later kid." He started forward, and the boy ran in front of him, holding his arms out.

"No! I won't let you take her!"

The thief glared. "Don't mess with me kid."

"I WON'T!"

The last thing the boy remembered was a dramatic sigh and a flash. And, of course, the cry.


Damn. He'd remembered again. When he'd lost her. And he still hadn't found her.

It's kinda sad Onii! You used to be so good at hide and seek!

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

In his mind, that small, blue haired girl pouted at him. Awww, c'mon Aniki. Would you tell your little sister to shut up?

God dammit.

Sora stopped, and slid to his knees near a lamp post.

He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't cry. Crying never helped anything. It hadn't helped when the ransom drop had come and passed, and someone else had taken his sister. It hadn't helped when the detective informed him that he would never see his sister again. It hadn't helped when his parents had died, and they had never gotten to see her again either.

But it made him feel better. The tears fell, the crying boy remained still for some time.