Kazutora hated how the sun brought time forward. A new day, dawn, future- he didn't like how those words were etched with hope.
=====================================
The morning light was bright.
The sun cast its light on the world, splashing vibrant colors of blue. Its rays woke those living under the skies, heralding another day.
As it shone, Kazutora watched the shadows gather under the clouds. He noticed how it stretched as it approached the light. Kazutora thought that the sun was absurd, like a mirror that carried different reflections.
It was light but also dark.
Warm yet cruel.
Maybe that's why he hated the dawn it brought.
Kazutora's fingers curled tighter around Miyuki's hands. His fingers felt its texture. Her hands were stone, rough at the edges, and weathered by time, yet there was deliberate softness as they covered his hand.
Kazutora liked her hands; they weren't soft like his, but they were grounding and tender. He loved how her hands trailed over his head, like touching silk, and how they held him like porcelain.
It was kinder than any other hand he touched.
He moved the hand linked to hers like the clock's pendulum. He swung it with energy, with a rhythm that matched their steps on the sidewalk. Kazutora glanced at Miyuki's side, watching for a twitch of dissatisfaction. Miyuki shot him a small smile, and Kazutora grinned, his flaxen eyes scrunching as he locked eyes with her amber ones.
"Mii-nee are you excited for school?"
"Nope."
"Even when I'm with you?" he puffed his cheeks.
"You make me happy.." Miyuki said as she pushed his cap down, "but it doesn't make it more fun."
Kazutora frowned, lifting his cap up "Don't you like school?"
"Yep."
"What about me?"
"Of course."
Kazutora lifted his hand and bumped his index and middle finger together, "2 good things but not funner?"
Miyuki smiled, "It's like when you mix chocolate and cheese together, as one it's yummy but not always when you mix them, right?"
Kazutora paused, averting his gaze.
'I don't get it.'
Kazutora skipped the cracks in the pavement as if they were sacred lines, not to be touched.
If you like something and there's more of those, you should be happier, right?
His ears twitched with each noise that surrounded them.
The streets were lively.
The cars' engines roared, the bells on the bicycles chimed as they threaded traffic, and the students walking along the sidewalks bantered, building a cacophony of noise.
Kazutora's fingers twitched, grappling with the hem of his sleeves. It differed from the silence that occupied their home, yet he could still feel the maws underlying the noise that threatened to swallow him whole.
Here, he could be as loud as he wanted, and no one would bat an eye.
Gradually, his steps became lighter, livelier, and he laughed.
His eyes twinkled as his nose caught a familiar aroma. The breeze carried the scent of daphne, sweet with a hint of citrus; it smelled like Miyuki. He wondered if the world was doing him a favor, surrounding his world with her scent like a grand welcome. The trees were tall and barky, with hues of pink atop its branches like a crown of flowers. The Sakura flowers were prominently in full bloom, yet Kazutora directed his gaze on the sidewalk.
Daphne flowers were modest, colored white with a tint of pink and four petals. It wasn't as flashy as the sakura flowers, yet it was captivating with its scent that declared the coming of spring.
"You're skipping," Miyuki moved forward, her left hand extending to his, "You must be so excited."
Kazutora paused, his eyes gazing at her hand before settling on his right hand. He hadn't even realized he'd let go. His panic spiked, and he lunged for her hand as if a second apart from her were unbearable. Miyuki's eyes widened in surprise before a chuckle broke through her lips, "You're like a koala, Tora."
Kazutora pouted as his cheeks flushed. He huffed and averted his gaze.
Bright patches of gold like dandelions caught his attention as they turned a street. He saw children of different sizes chatting. While most wore neutral and layered clothing, some wore vivid colors that drew attention. Wide brimmed yellow caps and lemon randeseru covers were commonly donned by 1st graders.
Miyuki settled her hand on Kazutora's shoulder as she pointed, "They could be your classmates, Tora-tan." She gave him a soft smile, "Takeo-kun is also there. Do you want to say hello?"
Kazutora's hands curled around her sleeves as he shook his head.
Miyuki hummed, "We'll walk together then."
Kazutora let out a sigh of relief as his grip loosened. His eyes lingered on her sleeves before he linked his hands to hers instead, "..Sorry."
Miyuki tilted her head, "It's fine."
Side by side, they walked forward, trailing behind the group like a colony of ants. Despite the street's clamor, he didn't feel overwhelmed. It differed from what he was used to but not unwelcome.
Kazutora inhaled.
Suddenly, Miyuki's steps came to a halt. Her eyes sharpened as she scanned the streets, and she crouched down, scrutinizing the pavement.
Kazutora watched as his fingers fidgeted.
Miyuki turned her head towards him. "Tora-tan," her tone was grave as she ushered him to come closer.
Kazutora swallowed his saliva as he inched closer. "You should be careful." Miyuki fixed the bright yellow cap that he wore, "they said, 'The Yen is falling!'"
Kazutora blinked. "..The yen is falling?"
She nodded her head, flicking the dust off her skirt. "I read it in a newspaper once. They said the yen was dropping, at first I didn't believe it, because how is money gonna fall from the sky? Until I saw this..!"
A flash of silver drew Kazutora's eye to her hand, and his eyes widened in realization.
Miyuki held a yen covered in dirt.
"You should always cover your head." Her brows scrunched in a serious expression, "It's dangerous."
Kazutora hovered around the yen, his sandy orbs glistening in amazement.
"But, Mii-nee." Kazutora hesitated, his lips closed in a pursed line. "What if someone just dropped it?"
"Impossible. The paper is always right."
"..Is money supposed to hurt?"
"Only if you're not careful."
Kazutora shot her a worried look, "You don't have a cover."
Miyuki's face sank, yet she crossed her arms, and she returned him a proud smile, "I have a hard head!"
-
The joke faded behind them as they walked towards reality.
Kazutora felt his steps growing heavier the closer they approached the school. The building was big, looming over them with its aged yet polished walls. He adjusted the strap of his backpack for the third time; it felt foreign, like sleeping in an unfamiliar bed. The school gates buzzed with soft noise, the shoes scraped on the pavement, and giggles broke out as they walked towards their classmates.
"Hanemiya-san, Good morning!" The voice rang like a wind chime.
Kazutora turned his head, and he squinted his eyes.
A boy was jogging towards them, his hair was black like a raven's feathers, and his eyes twinkled in that deep navy blue that Miyuki liked.
Miyuki's lips curved as she gave a light bow, "Good morning, Kirishima-kun. How was your morning?"
Kirishima flashed her a grin, "It was awesome! Mom made the best pancakes!" He took the position at Miyuki's right as he talked, his hands moving as he spoke animatedly.
Kazutora bit his lip.
Why was this stranger taking his place?
Today was supposed to be about him, his first day.
Kirishima was close, circling Miyuki like an incessant fly.
Kazutora felt the rough texture of her skin, yet despite their proximity, he felt as if something was slowly slipping away.
His grip tightened, and he walked faster.
Kirishima caught his movement and asked, "Hanemiya-san, is that your brother?"
Miyuki nodded her head as she prodded Kazutora.
Kazutora paused, letting his sharp eyes meet Kirishima's. "Hanemiya."
Kirishima's eyes twitched, and Kazutora struggled to keep his lips pursed.
"You're being rude, Tora-tan." Miyuki chided, "You have to say your full name and say 'It's nice to meet you.'"
"Got it, Mii-nee," he muttered, looking away as his cheeks puffed to swallow his pride.
Kirishima showed a strained smile, "It's fine, Hanemiya-san, he's just a kid after all."
She raised a brow, "That doesn't make it right."
Kirishima laughed, "You're so strict, Hanemiya-san!"
His laughter grated on Kazutora's ears.
Kirishima glanced at Kazutora before walking in front of him. "Y'know you won't make many friends with that cold introduction." Kirishima tilted his head as he grinned, "I'll teach ya!"
Kazutora's brows were curled as he shot Miyuki a pleading look.
Miyuki smiled as if telling him to behave.
Kazutora slouched as he listened to Kirishima. "You're like an automatic door that slams shut."
Kazutora raised a brow.
"Whenever someone gets close to you.. -Bam!" he clapped his hands together. Kirishima paused, then scratched his neck, "I dunno you, but that's the feeling."
Kirishima raised his index finger, "The point is: Ya gotta be more open!" He crossed his arms as he smiled, "You don't have to open it wide, just wide enough so they can sneak a peek!"
Then, he turned his head towards Miyuki, waving as he jogged towards the main gate, "See ya in class, Hanemiya-san! Later, lil' tiger-kun!"
Miyuki smiled softly as she waved her hand.
"Let's go, Tora-tan."
His eyes flicked towards the area near the gate. He saw teachers near the entrance, their voices cheerful as they greeted children wearing the same yellow hat he wore. A large banner stood at the side of the gate. The text '1st graders this way' was written on the fabric. The group of first-year students gathered around like ducklings to their mother.
His breath came shakily, and as if encouraging him, she squeezed his hand.
Kazutora didn't want to let go of her hand.
It was warm, and the day didn't burn him as it usually did. Uncoiling their hands felt as if he was peeling his skin.
But staying felt like defeat.
Kazutora released his grip on her hands as he took a step forward. He paused, turning his head towards Miyuki. His hands lingered at the edge of his shirt, fingers itching to return to hers. Instead, he raised his hand, waving it like a flag, "See you later, Mi-nee!"
Miyuki's lips stretched into a large smile. "See you later!"
Kazutora pushed forward, blending into the sea of yellow hats. He resisted the urge to turn around. It wasn't like he had never been apart from her, but this was different. She was close enough to reach, and still, he let go. Maybe that's what being brave meant.
He didn't recognize anyone, their features barely registered in his mind as he lowered his head. His fingers flexed and stretched the hem of his clothes, twisting and curling until he was comfortable with its weight.
His eyes flickered towards each sign, scanning for the words 'Class 1-2'
"Kazutora-kun, over here!" Takeo's loud cheerful voice echoed at the entrance, prompting Kazutora to look. His heart raced, and he felt glad that Takeo was there. Kazutora walked towards Takeo, his eyes shifting towards the gate.
Takeo beamed, patting Kazutora's shoulders, "I'm glad you're here!"
Kazutora shared a faint smile.
--
Kazutora felt as if he was in a bird cage as he settled in his seat. His fingers drummed at the edge of his table. His eyes flickered towards the seats, noting the way people had already begun to form groups.
'Takeo's so cool..'
Takeo sat on the right side of the class, talking to the students next to his seats. Kazutora couldn't help but admire Takeo's efforts. He tilted his head, wondering if this was the openness that Kirishima told him about.
The bell rang, and the students scurried towards their seats like moles returning to their burrow. The doors slid open, and a woman sporting a bun entered the room.
Kazutora's sandy eyes followed her movement. He noted how her posture was straight like Miyuki's, yet it lacked the sharp edge Miyuki carried. The teacher held the chalk as she wrote on the blackboard. Kazutora noted how her writing was curved and large, easily understood.
"Good morning, class!" her voice was clear with energy. She smiled, "I am Kirisawa-sensei, your homeroom adviser. It's nice to meet you. Please take care of me!"
The students smiled, and some clapped their hands. Kazutora blinked, his hands were hesitant as he looked around, and his gaze fell on Takeo. Takeo was smiling as he clapped his hands with enthusiasm. So Kazutora followed.
Kirisawa-sensei walked towards her desk, "I prepared a little game so that we can get to know each other." She reached towards a ball in her bag and held it within her grasp. "We pass the ball around, and when the music stops, you will introduce yourself. Is that okay?"
"Yes!", the class drawled.
Kazutora shifted in his seat, he didn't mind the activity, it was just ..sudden.
'It's fine, Mii-nee probably did this a lot. Just say my name. Hanemiya, Hanemiya, Hanemiya, Hanemiya..'
Kirishima's voice rang in Kazutora's mind.
'What exactly does open mean?'
Kazutora's eyes twitched as he watched the ball moving closer towards him, 'Should I smile? Is that more open?'
He watched as students sat up to introduce themselves. Some fidgeted and most smiled, Kazutora fixed his gaze at Takeo. 'He'd know what to do, just like Mii-nee.'
Takeo cradled the ball in his arms, "I'm Shizumaru Takeo, and I like playing soccer." He grinned, "It's nice to meet you! Let's all be friends" Then, as if jolted awake, he bowed, "Please take care of me!"
Kirisawa-sensei smiled, and the rest of the class clapped. Takeo kept his smile, his hand scratched his nape awkwardly as he gave the ball to another classmate. The music continued, its lively beat mimicking Kazutora's heart as the ball continued to be passed around.
Soon, the music stopped, and Kazutora felt the slick texture of the ball. He blinked and pinched the ball as if he questioned its existence.
"Ah."
Kazutora sat up from his seat, and the chair screeched as it scraped the floor. The sharp noise elicited small giggles, and Kazutora felt his cheeks flush in shame. His head drooped, and he bit his lip, trying to regain his composure. His gaze fell on his shoes -his laces.
'The sky will hold me up.'
Kazutora raised his head, "My name is Hanemiya Kazutora" He smiled, "..It's nice to meet you."
At the corner of his eye, Kazutora saw Takeo raise his thumb as he beamed. Kazutora flashed him a smile as he sat on his seat.
-
Kazutora's crayon hovered above the blank sheet of paper. It was clear like glass, yet Kazutora felt dust gather as he continued to stare at it.
The goal was to draw a family portrait.
Family.
Kazutora felt his stomach churn.
He could draw himself and Miyuki. It should be fine. Yet..
His sandy orbs flickered towards his seatmates' works. They drew their parents, their pets, and their houses.
They looked happy.
Is it that fun to draw?
Kazutora's grip on his crayon tightened. He pressed the black crayon to the paper, and his strokes were gentle and soft.
'Mii-nee has darker eyes than me. It's softer too..' His hands curved, 'She has wings too! Bigger than me, an angel!!' Kazutora's lips curved, and his eyes twinkled, 'Dots in her eyes like mine, she loves blue.'
Kazutora's hands paused, '..What does mom look like again?' He reached for the color green, 'Apron.. and her hair was up?'
'We don't have a pet..' Kazutora cupped his chin, and his eyes shimmered. His mind recalled the noisy bird that almost got him in trouble earlier. Kazutora pouted, scribbling in red.
"That's a good drawing, Hanemiya-kun!"
Kazutora turned his head. Kirisawa-sensei smiled as she tilted her head, "Your nee-chan is an angel?"
Kazutora nodded his head, "She's super cool!"
Her finger traced the words, "Noisy.. Is that your pet's name?"
Kazutora shook his head, "We don't have a pet." He puffed his cheeks, "Father doesn't like loud noises."
Kirisawa-sensei laughed, "Your father must be a shy man."
Kazutora's sandy orbs peered into her hazel ones. Kirisawa-sensei's lips stretched to a strained smile, "Yes?"
"You don't know him."
"Rig-"
"He's not shy. He only loves himself."
Kirisawa-sensei paused, and Kazutora spoke with conviction that made her uncomfortable. "Are you in trouble, Hanemiya-kun?"
Kazutora tilted his head, "Should I?"

---
"Did you have a hard time?"
Kazutora raised his head, meeting Miyuki's amber eyes. "No."
Miyuki's eyes lingered before her hands brushed the strands of his hair. Kazutora curled his arms around his knees, feeling his eyes sting. He sat at the edge of his futon, feeling the soft caress of Miyuki's hands.
He was being pampered again. Under the faint yellowish light, Kazutora felt as if he were sitting in a pile of clouds. He felt sleepy, like a sailor cradled in lapping waves of the sea; it was freeing.
"..I tried to be more open"
Miyuki hummed.
"It was nice." Kazutora hugged his knees, "They were noisy too, like a herd of sparrows."
Miyuki chuckled, "Your classmates?"
Kazutora nodded, "I drew something earlier."
"What is it?"
Kazutora smiled, "A family picture!" He turned his head towards her, "Do you wanna see it, Mii-nee?"
Miyuki nodded. Kazutora beamed, he shifted out his futon and crawled towards his bag. Then, after a minute of searching through his bag, he dragged his knees as he sauntered towards Miyuki. Kazutora grinned as he hid the paper behind his back, "Mi-nee should gimme more chocolate if you want to see it."
"You're charging me?"
"It's avante-garde," he declared with a grin, as if the term itself could elevate the drawing's status.
Miyuki raised a brow and stifled a laugh, "Avante-garde, huh?"
Kazutora huffed, "You wouldn't get it, Mii-nee. It's art."
"Oh you!" Miyuki lunged towards Kazutora, and he flinched. She pinched the sides of his stomach, and Kazutora's mouth burst in laughter, "That's- unfair!!"
Miyuki grinned, "Don't charge your big sis!"
"Never!!" he giggled.
"You asked for it!"
--
"Hey Tora-tan," Kazutora's eyes flickered towards her before huffing.
"Why did you give me wings?"
Kazutora frowned, "cause you're an angel."
Miyuki tilted her head, "Aren't you?"
Kazutora paused.
"I'm not an angel." He hugged his legs, "I'm bad."
She shook her head, "You're not bad. I'm much more terrible than you."
Kazutora buried his head, "Liar.."
Miyuki smiled, "Yep, I'm a liar." She moved closer, braiding the strands of his raven hair, "I don't have wings, Kazu-tan, but.. you should draw yourself one."
"Don't wanna.."
"Then, I'll draw you one."
Kazutora flinched. He faced Miyuki. He could feel the sincerity in her gaze. Her voice was firm like a mountain. Kazutora hated how her belief in him never wavered.
"You're the brightest, Mii-nee."