The town of Lumina Vale was slow and soft in the mornings, like the way a lullaby fades into sunlight. Hsyko's world, small as it was, existed between the rustle of leaves and the laughter of birds. The days came and went with the same gentle rhythm: wake, eat, run outside, get dirty, run home, sleep. There were no monsters. No villains. Just the sky, the earth, and everything in between.
Hsyko was five, but he felt like he had lived forever in this little world.
That morning, Lira packed him a small box of dried fruit and rice balls.
"Don't run too far from the hill," she said with her usual softness. "Stay where the wind can see you."
Hsyko grinned. "What if I run faster than the wind?"
She ruffled his hair. "Then I hope the wind is kind enough to chase you gently."
He didn't understand it, but he liked the way she said things.
Out the door he went, through the tall grass behind their house and down the slope that led to the old sakura grove. This was his kingdom, a forest of pink and white petals that bloomed year-round for reasons nobody questioned. The townspeople believed the trees were a gift from ancient spirits. Hsyko just thought they were pretty.
He was playing with a stick his trusty "blade" when he heard a voice.
"Found you, Prince of Dirt!"
Jairou came sprinting from the hill, leaping onto a tree stump like a superhero. His shirt was half untucked and he wore a yellow headband too big for his head.
"You dare challenge me, Leaf Knight?" Hsyko shouted back, brandishing his stick.
A fierce stick-duel broke out, full of exaggerated sound effects, clumsy footwork, and laughter.
Beatrice watched from the edge of the grove, sitting beneath the largest tree, sketching something in her little notebook. She didn't speak much, but she was always nearby. No one had invited her she just came. And neither boy minded.
"You guys are gonna break something," she said without looking up.
"We already did!" Jairou laughed. His stick snapped in half.
"You have angered the petal spirits," Hsyko declared dramatically. "They will haunt your lunch!"
The three collapsed into giggles. It was a perfect moment, quiet and careless.
Later, they sat under the tree, eating their lunches. The breeze carried petals through the air, soft and swirling.
"I had a weird dream," Hsyko said, picking at his rice ball.
"Yeah?" Jairou asked. "You were falling again?"
"Not this time," Hsyko replied. "I was... standing in the sky. But it wasn't really the sky. It was like... stars. But broken. And I was holding something bright."
Beatrice glanced at him.
"What was it?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. But it felt warm."
Jairou stuffed the rest of his food in his mouth and stood. "Let's go to the cliff!"
The cliff was just a wide ledge beyond the grove. Not too high. Just enough to feel like kings.
As they walked, the wind picked up.
And for just a second... everything went still.
Not quiet still.
Even the petals stopped mid-fall.
Hsyko blinked. Then it passed.
"Did you see that?" he asked.
"See what?" Jairou said.
Beatrice was quiet. But she stared at her hand, fingers slightly spread, as if she had felt something move through her.
They reached the cliff and stood there, looking out over the valley. Below, the town looked like a peaceful painting people moving slowly, smoke curling from chimneys, the river like silver ribbon.
"This place is boring," Jairou said cheerfully. "But I like it."
"Maybe that's a good thing," Beatrice replied.
Hsyko looked at the clouds. "I wonder what's past the clouds."
"Rain," Jairou said.
"Stars," Beatrice whispered.
That night, Lira tucked Hsyko into bed.
"Did you have fun today?"
"Yeah," he said sleepily. "But the wind stopped. Like really stopped. It was weird."
Lira didn't answer right away. Then she kissed his forehead.
"The world is full of little secrets," she said. "Some are just shy."
Hsyko smiled. "I think the wind is shy, too."
She nodded and turned out the light.
As he drifted into sleep, he saw petals swirling in darkness. And beyond them, that spiral of stars again. Always spinning. Always there.
In the days that followed, life returned to normal. School. Games. The usual teasing and laughter.
Teacher Mikka taught them about mountain birds.
Uncle Varo visited their class and read a strange poem about dreams and doors.
Hsyko fell into a bush.
Jairou tried to race a squirrel.
Beatrice painted the sakura trees with watercolors, alone under the shade.
But at night, Hsyko's dreams grew more vivid.
In one, he stood at the bottom of a deep ocean made of glass.
In another, he heard a voice call his name not loud, not frightening. Just… curious.
He didn't tell anyone.
Because to him, they were just dreams.
One evening, as dusk painted the sky in orange and lavender, Hsyko sat on the porch, watching fireflies dance.
Lira joined him, carrying two cups of warm milk.
"Why do stars twinkle?" he asked.
"Because they're laughing," she said.
"At what?"
"Us. The way children laugh at grown-ups trying to walk in the rain."
He giggled.
"Will I ever touch one?"
She looked at him then not with surprise or amusement, but something almost like recognition.
"Maybe," she said. "Maybe one day, a star will reach out and touch you."
He didn't understand. But again, the way she said it made it feel true.
He looked up.
And for a brief moment, high in the darkening sky, something shimmered not a star, not a plane.
A spiral.
Barely there.
Then gone.
He blinked.
"Did you see that?" he asked.
Lira smiled, sipping her milk.
"Some things are meant to be seen by only one pair of eyes."
Hsyko leaned against her shoulder.
And the world kept turning.
Quiet.
Patient.
Waiting.