Disclaimer: Not mine. Most of the storyline isn't either. It's from a movie most of you have never seen. Kal Ho Naa Ho, for those of you who wanted to know.

*I want to let all of you know that this is an AU or Alternate Universe, therefore it won't be taking place anywhere near the LH storyline. That was for those of you who didn't know what an AU was. Hey! I didn't used to know!!!

The Misted Glass of an Angel

New York. It was the city that supposedly never slept. Filled with fashion designers of the future and actors to be, it was a nice city. It felt the emotions of a human day by day, even if the humans there didn't. Here the fashion industry and many other angels made their mark.

I was a halfway decent dresser. A nice pair of slacks and a well-fitted shirt was my usual wear for work. A pair of beaten up jeans and a long drab sweater made up my casual wear.

Back then, I was known for my bland personality. No real sides to me. You got what you saw. I never really had any fun. It was almost against the law for me.

Everyday, I'd wake up, get ready and head out for another horrible day. I'd check up on my cousins, Keitaro and Kanako, and then my grandmother to make sure they were awake.  Next on my list were my sisters Shinobu and Motoko. Then down the stairs to make sure the breakfast was made.

Everyday it was the same routine. Motoko and Keitaro would come downstairs, followed by Shinobu and my grandmother, Hina. Kanako would straggle down last. Shinobu would fix the lunches since that was what she was learning to do from me- cook.

Our family wasn't that well off. We had the money but we needed to work for it. I'd go to the café, work there for most of the day and then at night take a MBA class. That's why Shinobu had to learn to cook. I wasn't there.

Motoko was constantly studying with Keitaro to get her grades right and well. Kanako was the same, though a little on the strange side. As a child, she had suffered an accident that caused brain damage. Her speech and mobility were now slurred and slow.

Shinobu would leave for school and my grandmother's friends would soon be over. I was well on my way to work by now, but rumor has it that they had a singing club and it was a disaster.

Before I left for work there would be an argument between my grandmother and I. She always used to complain. About anything.

Nothing was perfect for her.

Her toast was too cold.

Her tea was too hot.

Her chair was too low.

Her silverware wasn't clean enough.

Her praying was interrupted by everyone tiptoeing out of the house so that they wouldn't have to confront her.

After her fifth complaint, I'd tell her please be quiet.

She'd say she didn't get any respect.

"You do get respect from all of us, Grandma Hina."

"In what way, may I enquire?"

"No, you may not enquire."

"Well, I will. Tell me Urashima Haruka. Right now!"

"I told you yesterday, Grandma Hinata."

"Haruka! That is insolence! Do not behave like that child over there! I will not allow it!"

She'd point her finger towards Shinobu, who'd lower her head. I'd be furious by now.

"You get respect from us with the fact that you're still here!" After that, there would be the trademark jaw drop and everyone would scurry out of the house.

I'd walk down whatever streets I took and reach my café in record time. With a huff, I'd set down my belongings and set about preparing it for the customers.

A few minutes after me would come Mutsumi, my best female friend. She was an airhead but you had to love her. After Mutsumi would come in Naru, the girl my cousin, Keitaro, fancied. She was the waitress here along with a few other girls.

Soon, they'd all filter in and set about fixing the place up.

Now, I'm no interior designer, but I know that blue and pink walls do not match the silver tables and gold chairs. Everything was painted the gaudiest colors, but we didn't have the time to do renovations.

One particular Friday morning, as all of the girls went around arranging the furniture and wiping the tables, I found a letter sitting with all of our other mail from the day before. It was a letter from the bank. They wanted us to pay our rent soon or they'd kick us out.

I sighed. This had been going on for many months now. I'd barely pay my rent on the café because we had no customers.

I would blame the paint, and I have.

I could also blame the competition across the street. They were always busy and we were lucky if we filled up one table during the day.

I hid the letter and turned around; ready to face whatever came my way. Absolutely nothing.

The whole day went by without a single customer. It was horrible.

As I closed the café, I took off for my daily meeting place with a classmate of mine. We were to head off for our MBA classes.

When I reached there, I found him to be late…as usual. About fifteen to twenty minutes later, he showed up.

Noriyasu Seta.

I'd actually hated him when he first showed up at the MBA classes. He smiled and flirted too much. I felt especially bad for his daughter Sarah. He was very forgetful.

"Hey Haruka! Don't you ever smile?" That was his usual greeting.

Ah. That was another thing about me. I never seemed to smile. My mother, Nahoko, who was usually away on work for weeks on end, said it was because I was so attached to my father, that I stopped smiling once he died. That was two years ago.

We made our way to the classes and finished in record time. Throughout the whole lecture, Seta would usually check out the females sitting next to him or behind him. I didn't pay attention to him…ever.

However, he'd always do one peculiar thing that always seemed to catch my attention. He'd write in a diary. A little leather-bound book.

Later that day, I made my way home and was surprised to see my mother's car in front of the house. She was home.

I walked faster and soon made my way inside the house. It was beginning to snow anyways.

The first noise that reached my ears- arguing.

My mother and grandmother hated each other. My grandmother is my father's mother, mother-in-law to my mom.

What made it worse for my mom was that my grandmother blamed my mother for my father's death. She blamed her but everyone in the house knew the unspoken truth.

My father had killed himself. No one knew why, but my grandmother suspected it was because of my littlest sister Shinobu.

Why?

Shinobu was adopted and my grandmother hated that. She felt Shinobu to be a burden. Hina blamed Shinobu for all our financial problems. But since my mother had adopted her, there was no going back. Plus, we all loved her…besides my grandmother.

Today was the usual argument and I just walked in and pecked my mother on her cheek. She and my grandmother were arguing about Shinobu again.

"She isn't our blood!"

"How do you know?!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. She belongs more to this family than you ever will! Don't let me hear you say another word against her! Say anything against me, but keep her out of it!" Hina took this opportunity to bring on a tirade against my mother.

"You killed my son! It's your entire fault! You never loved him! You and that little cow were plotting it all along! My poor son! In heaven, when he never deserved to die!" Shinobu had run upstairs and was crying. My mother shot an evil look towards Hina and took off after her. All the others, including myself, slowly did the same.

All the others made their way to Shinobu and Motoko's bedroom. Inside, our mother comforted a distraught Shinobu.

As I walked in, I noticed the others getting into a praying position, on their knees, hands clasped.

"What are you praying for?" I questioned softly. Shinobu's gentle voice rang out.

"An angel." I, to say the least, was startled.

"An angel?" I inquired softly.

All the others nodded. "So we can be happy again." Keitaro whispered.

"No longer a broken family." Motoko muttered, silent tears sliding down her cheek. With that, the others bent their heads and began to pray. I was about to get onto my knees when I felt something strange.

It was a light feeling, soft. It was strength. I looked out the window, onto the street for some strange reason.

The feeling lasted only for a few moments and I'll be the first to tell you that I probably only felt that because of the grief that surrounded me.

But then something caught my eye. It was just a taxi, pulling up into the driveway of the house across the street. Our neighbor, Mr. Ueda, fancied our grandmother. He came out and greeted the taxi.

After that, I lost my interest and turned back to praying for our 'angel'. I bent down onto my knees, and prayed with the rest of my family.

Right then, Kanako whispered a few words. "Pwease leth the ayngeyl come sthoon."

Outside, the taxi door slammed shut, signaling the entrance of an angel.

.~.

Ooohh…Second story started by me. I'm almost afraid. This is going to be a pretty long story. We'll see about the humor. I'm not too good at it so yeah. If any of you have seen the movie this is made after, please tell me!! I need a bit of help in going around some obstacles.

It'll get better as the story progresses because I haven't found my groove and rhythm when it comes to writing this particular story. I will soon!