She could remember that dream clear as day.

So why couldn't she remember his face? That man in her dream whose smile was like Grandma's smile, his hair was a mixture of Grandpa's and Grandma's hair but his face was blurred and vague, his smell of foreign cologne, and the warm, unfamiliar feeling in his aura.

Pondering, Sawada Amami walked slowly down the stairs from her room, dressed in her uniform which was sloppily put on.

"Sora...? Oh no!" Amami stopped in front of the kitchen's entrance. "What am I supposed to tell Amami? She won't handle the news well!"

"She's the younger sister of Sora, I'm sure she'll be fine." An unfamiliar voice soothed.

"Arashi, Reborn, thank you for bringing us Sora's belongings in his stead."

Amami's face light up with a smile as she rushed through the entrance.

"Where's Sora?" She exclaimed, grinning excitedly now.

An ash white-haired man with striking green eyes was leaning against the wall behind a tall man with obsidian black eyes and wearing a yellow-striped fedora that was standing in front of Grandma.

Grandma's eyes were swollen with tears, and her cheeks damp. Protective instinct took over as Amami appeared in front of her grandmother, scowling darkly.

"Who are you people? And what have you done to make Grandma cry?" She demanded," Tell me!"

"Amami," Grandma uttered, frowning." They did nothing wrong. In fact, there are some of Sora's friends." Her voice cracked.

"They are?"

There was a pause while Amami examined the two obviously foreign men.

"It's nice to meet you, Amami. I'm Gokudera Arashi, and this is Reborn, my friend." The white-haired man, Arashi, stated.

"Ciaossu." Reborn said, tilting his hat.

Amami nodded, and then she spun around to face her grandmother, Sawada Nana.

"So, what's this about Sora?" She chirped, smiling broad.

Nana croaked," He died, Amami. Sora died!" and then broke down into tears again.

Amami's smile remained there, slowly degrading as the news soaked in. With a stumble, she felt Arashi and Reborn catch her as she fell backwards.

Her older brother, Sora, was the best older brother in the world. His smile was bright and carefree, his eyes were like Mother's, and his hair like Mother's. She obtained Father's eyes, Mother's face and body, and her Father's personality.

Their great-great-great-great grandfather, Sawada Ieyatsu, was Father's direct ancestor, and her father had moved to Italy because of it, Grandma told her once.

"I'm sorry," Arashi whispered. "I should have been the one to die."

Amami felt hysteria consume her as she shoved them away, running out the door and down the street blindly.

The last thing she felt was something painful and strong swatting her into something rough and also hard, and then warmth that felt so much like Sora's that a tear slipped down her cheek.

A set of hazel orbs shrouded by black ribbons was the last thing she remember seeing.