Wave On A Bus- A Yu Yu Hakusho Fanfic.

By Painin Uranus

Right, before I start this one, here's some answers to the comments and questions that I recieved from my last one-shot:

Cerridwene: I'm glad that you liked it. Really, it's just the way that some of my writing comes out, but I'm glad that you liked it.

Black Wolf Jaganshi Lover: Thank you, I tend to write deep work (hence the following one-shot). And to answer your question, the reason why Hiei wasn't listed was because that he's a demon, and therefore doesn't count as a human causing crap in the human world. Understand? Kurama was mentioned because of his alias--Suichi Minamino.

okamigirl13: It's good to hear that you liked it. Don't say that you suck at reviews, every one is appreciated. Thank you for taking the time to review to my story.

Okay, story number two. This one is about Kuwabara. I know he doesn't ride the bus, but this was when he went to elementary school, okay? To be honest, I think this story is a great symbol of Kuwabara's kindness and honor. He's really a nice person, if you look past his stupidity and ugliness… so, have fun reading "Wave on a bus". Tell me what you think!

Everyday we drove by her house. And she was always out there—a plump little woman around her late 40's, early 50's. Brown-turning-silver hair, and kind eyes.

At least, as far as I could see.

After all, we were on a bus.

Anyways, she would always be out there, watching us as we turned the corner where her house was. And she waved to us. Why? Dunno. She just did, and she did it every morning. You always count on her standing out there with her mug of coffee, in her robe, waving to us with a joyful smile on her face.

Something like that usually made people want to smile and wave back, don't you think?

But people talked about her every time we passed by, saying she was stupid and stuff. The popular kids would make mean jokes about her, and everyone else on the bus would laugh at them, saying that they were funny and true.

But why did waving to us every morning make her stupid?

She didn't look stupid. She looked nice. Even though she was in her bathrobe, she looked friendly. I liked the fact that she was there every morning, waving us off to our school. She was being nice.

So why did that make her stupid?

Every morning, the jokes got meaner and crueler. And every morning, I would pray that she wasn't out there waiting for us. But she always was, waving just like she would every morning, not the least bit duller than the morning before. I groaned and hid my face every time we passed her house, trying to tune out the jokes and teases that came from those popular boys.

One morning, we drove by her house and, once again, she was out there. Waving. I just wanted to scream at her, stop waving! No one appreciates it! They're making fun of you, can't you see?

"Look at that old bat," one boy said with an evil snicker. "Still out there, waving like a moron."

"I think her brain's defectives," another added with a sly smirk. "She's probably using it for a pillow or something. Just look at her hair!"

"It looks like she just woke up," the loudest boy on the bus said cruelly. "The old dingbat, I bet she's poor."

"Yeah," the first boy agreed, shaking his head in disgust. "The old fart probably can't afford a decent shirt, that's probably why she's wearing that robe."

"Why's she always out there?" the loud boy asked heartlessly.

"Because she's too stupid to figure out how to get back into her home!" The second boy said with an evil laugh.

"Why does waving to us make her stupid?" I asked suddenly, turning to them, anger flaring in my eyes. "Why does being kind mean that you're uncool?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" the loud boy replied with a loud laugh.

"Why are you so mean to her? Just because she waves to us every morning doesn't mean that she's stupid!" I yelled at him, my hands clenching into fists.

"Why else would she be out there every morning, huh?"

"Well, maybe if you took the time to get to know her before you judge her, you'll find out why!"

"Why are you defending her?" The first boy asked with curiosity.

"Because it's the right thing to do. Because making fun of someone you don't even know is wrong. Because you guys are idiots and don't understand what it's like to be normal."

"Hey!"

"Watch it, pal!"

"I don't care! If being nice means that you are uncool and everything, then I don't want to be mean! That's just stupid! You guys make fun of her because you want to be popular! You're making fun of someone just so that people will like you! And that nice lady isn't even here to defend herself! Cowards, talking and calling her names behind her back. You guys aren't men, and you never will be men. You'll just be sick little insects dirtying the city of Tokyo."

"Take that back!" the second boy cried, standing up while the bus was still moving.

"The truth hurts, doesn't it?" I asked him, a humorless smile on my lips. "You don't like to hear the real deal about the person you've become, huh? I bet you use to be a nice person, before popularity killed the real you. I bet, if you weren't the man you were now, you'd be agreeing with me. I bet there are kids on this bus that are agreeing with me!"

"Shut up!"

"Why? Does saying this stuff make me stupid? Just like waving to us every morning makes that lady stupid?"

"Just shut up!"

"Not unless you promise you won't speak unkindly to that lady ever again! Not until you promise you won't speak wrongly about anyone that you don't know! Not anyone that you know doesn't deserve it! Cruelty doesn't make the man. Honor does. The sense of right and wrong. If you can't decide which is which, you'll never succeed in life. You'll never become a man!"

"Fine! Alright, I promise! I promise!"

"And what about you?" I asked, turning to the first guy, daring him to say no.

"I promise."

"And you?" I said, rounding on the loud boy.

"…I promise."

"Good. Next time, when she waves, she won't be waving to an empty shell. She won't be waving to a stone. Next time she waves. Tomorrow, when she waves, we'll wave back. We'll wave back."

The next morning came quickly. The drive was silent, the three boys glancing at me every once in a while with silent respect.

And when that lady waved, she wasn't waving alone.

We waved back.

And a smile spread across her ashen face.

Her eyes lightened up.

And we waved, until we couldn't see her anymore.

We continued to wave to each other every morning. She would always be out there, waving to us. And we would wave back, more eagerly every time.

But, one day, she wasn't there. She wasn't outside, with her coffee, in her bathrobe, waving to us.

And I knew that something was wrong. I could just feel it. And it worried me…

After school, I called my mom so that she could take me to the old lady's house. I was kind of scared, but I put on a strong face, and walked up to the door.

I knocked twice, loudly and clearly. No one answered. I paused, but knocked again. Still, no one answered.

Right when I was about to knock again, a young woman opened the door, her eyes puffy and red, like she had been crying.

"Can I help you?" she asked me softly, her voice cracking as if she were holding back tears.

I opened my mouth to speak, but then I realized I didn't know what to say. I didn't know the lady's name, and I couldn't ask, "Is the old lady that always waves to our bus here?"

Then, I thought of something to say. Taking a deep breath, I asked, "Is the owner of this house in?"

"I'm sorry," she replied with a sniff. "She passed away this morning. Actually, she must've gone during the night, in her sleep. I'm sorry…"

I was frozen, I couldn't speak, I couldn't move. The old lady died? No! She couldn't have. Tears blurred my vision and I shook my head angrily. I didn't even know her and I was crying for her.

"So am I," I managed to say. Looking up at her, I asked, "Are you her daughter?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm her caretaker. Her only daughter passed away long ago in a car accident. I was hired to watch over her, to make sure she didn't go into a state of depression and such. I arrived a couple hours ago, found her still in her bed, and called the doctor. He left not too long ago."

My gaze had returned to the ground, and I was still shaking my head in denial. Finally, taking another deep breath, I asked her, "Is it alright if I come in and see her? One last time?"

She stared at me for a long time, and stared back desperately. For some reason, I needed to see her. I needed to see the nice old lady once more.

After a long period of silence, she nodded her head, and let me in. I didn't look around at all, I was just intent on seeing her. The lady led me to her room, and I stood in the doorway, taking in the sight.

She was lying peacefully on her plain bed, as if she were still asleep. The sunlight streamed through the blinds of the open window, playing across her face as the gentle wind toyed with the long white curtains beside her head. She was still under the covers, which were smooth and wrinkle-free. Her brow was smooth and relaxed. She seemed so peaceful, lying there. Did all dead people look like that?

"What was her name?" I asked softly, so as not to disturb the tranquility of the scene.

"Don't you know it?" she asked me in return, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"We didn't know each other that well. I was just a… friend…"

"Oh… her name was Joy. And she had much of it."

I slowly made my way to the head of the bed, never taking my eyes off of her. If it weren't for her aging wrinkles, I would've said she was beautiful. What a loss…

I raised on of my hands, and rested it on her soft, even forehead. Then, I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and said, "Joy, caretaker of such a kind-hearted soul, bear heed to the happiness you spread and rest in peace."

Then, I removed my hand and muttered a quick "thank you" to the old lady… Joy's caretaker before leaving.

Such a nice lady, passing away when she deserved not to.

But she was kind.

She was happy.

So everyone, spread the joy.

.:AN:.

Another thoughtful story from me, isn't that great? Tell me what you thought of it, I'm really dying to know!