A/N: I'm back! And with angst! This was inspired after watching West Side Story last night for the millionth time. It's AU, which is always fun to write. I purposely made things a bit vague, just so it would feel more like you were inside Kaoru's head. Because you don't recall your entire life history during random times, do you? Didn't think so. Anyway, enjoy!

"Hikaru, are you sure we should be doing this?"

"'Course we should be!" he replied, the city lights making his grin glow. "The night is young, and so are we. Can't stay cooped up in that old parking garage. It's no place for respectable young men such as us to hang out."

"Respectable?" I snorted, but made no further protests. I might have been the more sensible twin, but I certainly wasn't the wet blanket.

Hikaru's smirk only grew and it became so bright and almost feline. A grin without a cat.

I heard laughter behind me, and turned around to see Kyouya holding Tamaki in a 'friendly' headlock; the idiot blonde was giggling like a madman, and I could see the hint of true annoyance hidden behind his captor's calculating smile.

Airplanes and satellites twinkled in the orange sky like artificial stars, because there were no such things as real stars in New York City – at least, not the kind you find in space.

Crisp autumn air pinched my nose affectionately, as if enjoying the moment with us. We were not over seventeen; four boys living life the way we wanted to, the way that made most people turn their noses up when we walked by. But we were happy (most of the time), free (in our own part of town), and invincible.

Almost.

--

Gunshots.

Shouts.

Blood.

They were everywhere. In my ears, in my mouth, in my eyes.

The gunshots were pouring out into the street – enemy territory that we shouldn't have been in, but "it'll only be a second" – and caused shouts so loud I could almost taste them on my tongue.

The blood?

The blood I saw.

It ripped a hole in my brother's abdomen, glittering in the light just like his smile. The knife that had done the deed lay on the eroded concrete next to him.

Before I could comprehend what I was doing, the weapon was in my hands. It felt like melting chocolate, warm and sticky.

Then there was a strangled sound; a wail of sixteen years worth of hatred. It clawed its way out of my throat, took the knife from my hands…

And stabbed the leader of the opposing gang (murderer) while everyone else watched (cowards).

His life came rushing out of him, staining the front of my shirt and the skin on my hands. He fell to a heap on the pavement in front of my feet.

I ran.

--

Police sirens greeted me as I skidded to a stop, the blue and red lights preventing me from moving. Questions were asked, tears were released, and I was thrown into a car that was more familiar than it should have been.

I didn't look back at Tamaki as he cried unabashedly.

I didn't return the nod that Kyouya sent my way.

And I didn't dare to meet Haruhi's gaze as she watched the police car drive off.

Because Hikaru's mantra kept coming back to me:

Play it cool, boy.

Real cool.