UNDER EDITING | STARTED ON AUGUST 10TH
| TAKE ME TO THE SUN WHERE THE LIGHT NEVER FAILS |
They were only children.
And yet, they showed what true love really looked like.
It was a tragedy, really.
| AND TELL ME YOUR THE ONE, THAT OUR LOVE IS NEVE...
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TOKYO | 1
"I've wanted to bring you here for years now," Mizuki Chiyemi marveled at the sight of her old home. The wallpaper peeled back, the wooden floors were coated in layers of thick dust, and cobwebs lines the walls like strings of festive lights. Its vacancy was evident, not a single sign of life proved to live within its thin walls in decades, but to the aging woman, this was the sight of a perfect home.
The foreign looking house was something Akino Chiyemi has never seen before. Its architecture differed from the homes they rented out over seas, but there was still a sense of appreciation pooling at the girls being. This is where her mother lived, where she grew sick, where she studied for school, where she left behind her old life for one full of adventure. The Japanese home in the center of a small town protected memories, protected stories Akino would grow to learn. She was fascinated by it, even if ants walked across the outside railing as if they were the ones paying rent. "It's cute, mama," Akino beamed, and grabbed her mother's delicate hand in her own.
Mizuki glanced down at her daughter with a loving look. "I'll have to work extra hard to clean this place up for us. When you visit, I'll have to show you what it's like to live like an ordinary Japanese woman."
"I will come every weekend, mama. That is, if I can run away from Satoru," Akino finished her sentence off in a whisper, but even then, she was still heard.
As if his timing was always scheduled, Satoru placed his arm around the young girls shoulder, and he leaned down to the height of both lady's. "Impossible. I'm tagging along just to steal those delicious snacks mama makes."
Mizuki clutched a hand over her chest, the knitted fabric of her mauve colored scarf pressing closer to her jet lagged body. "Now, Satoru, I know you aren't going to steal my daughter from me, and use my newly found retirement to your advantage."
"I would never," The young adult insisted, and returned to his tall height. However, he kept his arm around the girl he considered family. "But with you being home~" He sang, "I would really enjoy those liittle bread things you make with the honey. Oh, what are they called again?"
"Sopaipilla," Akino chimed in, the accent rolling off her tongue in a way Satoru could never replicate.
"Right—" He said, his lips soon pressing into a thin line. "Whatever it is that you just said."
Both Mizuki and Akino shared a look, and they shook their heads in sync. Even when the man visited them in whatever country they were stationed in, he never truly took the time to understand the native languages or learn the correct names for the treats he liked most. Often times he would busy himself with foreign ladies, or their couch.
