Yusuke Urameshi kicked at a rock as he walked. It was lunchtime, stinking hot and he'd yet to make it home to change out of his stupid, too-thick, too-dark uniform. There wasn't a goddamn cloud in the sky to save him from the oppressive heat. And what was worse, Keiko had caught him on the way out the school gates.

Well, caught wasn't the word. More like she'd seen him. But instead of screaming at him across the whole school yard, she'd just...

She'd just looked terribly, terribly sad and turned away from the window she'd been standing at, as though he'd just killed her parents.

He'd ignored it at the time, even waved at her a little. But as he continued the walk home his satchel seemed to be growing leaden and a gnawing guilt had taken up residence in the pit of his stomach.

For so long, Keiko had been the only one to worry about him when he was sick, the only one who cared enough to get really angry when he ditched. After he'd died, he'd come to the realisation that a lot of people cared about him, even if they didn't show it - or if they showed it in rather interesting ways... Kuwabara, for instance.

In fact, he'd had such an increase in friends and responsibilities that he'd practically forgotten about Keiko.

But that's wrong. I can never forget about Keiko, not really.

Yusuke kicked his rock and watched as it skittered across the pavement and down a stormwater drain. He sighed tiredly and reached with a heavy arm to ruffle the sweat-moistened hair at the back of his neck, trying to coax a breeze into penetrating the thick mass of blackness.

He stared blankly at the stormwater drain for a little while. Then he grit his teeth in annoyance, kicked a nearby trash can into the self-same gutter and stalked off towards his apartment.

- - -

Atsuko was not surprised to see her son at midday. This could have been because it was a regular occurrence, or it could simply have been that she was still fast asleep. Yusuke watched his mother sleep with a slight softening of his sour expression, changed into jeans and a short-sleeved white shirt, and left again.

He hung around outside the Yukimura ramen shop for a few hours, finally collapsing moodily into a nearby bus stop bench. He didn't want to go inside. He did want to see Keiko. She'd be home soon.

As though called by his thoughts, Keiko turned a corner and walked through the heat haze towards her house. Her gaze was downcast and her satchel seemed heavier than his had been on his own way home.

She looked up at him halfway down the street and her step faltered for a moment. There was a look on her face, very briefly, as though she wanted to smile, but then indifference settled across the features he knew so well. Yusuke lifted an arm in greeting and his smile was strained. She wasn't angry with him; she didn't want to see him at all. He couldn't have that.

Keiko nodded to him as she approached, stopping a few metres behind the bus stop. "What are you doing here?"

"What, I'm not allowed to wait for my friend here?" Yusuke demanded. Keiko shrugged tiredly and started towards her door. Yusuke blinked. Had she totally missed the fact that he'd been waiting for her? "Hey, Keiko-- ya gonna come sit down or what?"

She paused, hand on the door to the ramen restaurant, and gave him a strange look over her shoulder. "I'm going upstairs to get changed first, you moron. Unless you'd prefer I was charbroiled?" She clanged the door open noisily and slammed it behind her. He heard a muffled Irasshai! and a slightly louder Tadaima! simultaneously.

Yusuke smiled at nothing in particular and leaned his head back on the bus stop seat. What had he been worried about? There was nothing unusual going on; Keiko had probably just been worried about something else. His smile broadened as he heard Keiko opening her window - the window that looked out onto the street. For a few seconds he resisted the temptation, then he tilted his head backwards.

Keiko, of course, had been waiting for this, and threw one of her textbooks at his head. When his head cleared a few minutes later, Yusuke grinned at the sky again. As usual, he was forgiven.

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