The sun had climbed higher now, brushing its golden fingers across the Takahara home as if urging them to hurry along. Aya was zipping through the hallway, arms full of hastily gathered supplies—her sketchbook, colored pencils, and a folded blanket that she insisted was their "official picnic mat."
"Ethan, carry this!" she shouted, thrusting a lumpy pillow into his chest as he stepped into the hallway.
"What is this for?" he asked, confused.
"It's for when I lie dramatically on the grass after eating too much."
"Of course," he said, voice dry. "Critical survival gear."
Downstairs, Hana had already packed a small basket with food—rice balls wrapped neatly, sliced fruit, two small bottles of plum juice, and a hidden container of the ginger cookies she always said were "for after."
Kaito stood by the door with a rolled-up mat under one arm and a broad-brimmed hat he hadn't worn in years. It looked slightly ridiculous, tilted back on his head, but he wore it with all the seriousness of a soldier heading out for duty.
"All right, team," he declared as Aya clomped down the stairs behind Ethan, "to the square we go. Single file. No casualties."
"You act like we're marching into battle," Hana said, nudging him as she tied her hair into a low ponytail.
"You've never tried walking Aya through a flower shop," Kaito whispered dramatically.
"I heard that!" Aya yelled, already halfway to the door.
Outside, the light was kind and warm, the wind soft and slow like it too was in no rush. Birds fluttered between rooftops. Somewhere, a neighbor's broom whisked against cobblestone. The village looked half-asleep in its peace, unaware of how perfect it was.
The Takahara family strolled through it like they belonged to the sun.
---
They stopped first at **Miss Suki's flower shop**, where Aya immediately ran to the buckets near the entrance.
"Look! The sky-lilies!" she gasped, eyes wide.
Miss Suki emerged from inside, a round woman in her late fifties with silver streaks in her hair and always something green tucked behind her ear.
"My favorite little blossom returns," she said fondly, waving at Aya before smiling at the rest of the family. "And the tall one who never smiles," she teased Ethan.
"I smile," Ethan muttered, though his lips barely moved.
"Mmhm," she said with a wink. "You'll grow into it."
Hana and Miss Suki chatted briefly about the upcoming harvest market, while Aya begged for a single wrapped stalk of sky-lily. She tucked it behind her ear, beaming as if it made her royalty.
They left the shop a little lighter than when they entered.
---
Next stop: **Ren's bakery**, just across the square.
The bell above the door jingled as they stepped inside, met by a wave of warm, buttery air. Rows of sweet buns, glistening melonpan, and sticky pastries lined the shelves. Ren stood behind the counter, wiping his hands on a flour-dusted apron.
"Well, well," he said, squinting at the door like he'd expected them all morning. "I was about to send a search party."
"You say that every time," Hana smiled.
"And I mean it every time."
Aya ran to the glass counter. "Did you make the caramel ones today?"
Ren nodded, already boxing one up. "And a second for your brother, who pretends he doesn't like sweets."
Ethan blinked. "I never said—"
"Mm. Boys your age always pretend. Gotta protect your mystery or something."
Kaito stepped in to pay, trading coins and jokes while Aya snuck a second bun behind her back.
They left with the scent of sugar and cinnamon clinging to them.
---
The village square faded behind them as they climbed the gentle slope toward the **grassy hill behind the shrine**, the one Ethan had suggested. It wasn't far, but the walk grew quieter with each step. Birds chirped above, and the wind whispered through the trees.
Finally, they reached the top.
The hill was wide and green, surrounded by a ring of young trees. At the very center stood a large, gnarled tree with silver bark and thick roots that curled like arms into the ground. The grass moved in soft ripples as the breeze passed through it.
Aya dropped her bag dramatically. "We have arrived!"
Hana laid out the blanket under the shade. Kaito opened the basket. Ethan helped set out the food in careful silence.
And for a while—nothing was said. There was only the quiet joy of eating together, of being outside with full bellies and full hearts.
---
After the meal, Aya lay down on the pillow she insisted on, holding her sketchbook above her face.
"Don't move," she ordered. "I'm drawing everyone as sword-wielding warriors."
"Do I at least get armor?" Kaito asked.
"No. You're the comic relief."
He gasped in mock betrayal. Hana laughed softly and leaned against his shoulder.
Ethan sat at the edge of the blanket, knees drawn up. The grass brushed his ankles. He watched the wind roll over the hill in slow waves. Something about the moment felt… suspended. Fragile, like a bubble you didn't want to breathe near.
His gaze drifted to Aya, who was now furiously coloring Kaito's eyebrows purple.
He remembered something—something small. A moment, from years ago.
---
They were younger—he was six, maybe seven. Aya had only just learned to walk well. She'd wandered too far near the garden and slipped in the mud.
He'd run to her, heart pounding, and scooped her up before Hana or Kaito even noticed. Her knees were scraped, but she hadn't cried—just looked at him with enormous eyes, trusting completely.
> "You're okay," he'd whispered. "I won't let you fall again."
She'd grinned and said, "Okay," like she actually believed him.
---
Now, all these years later, she still looked at him like that sometimes. Like she knew—without needing to ask—that he'd catch her again.
Ethan looked away from her sketchbook and back at the sky.
The wind made the grass sing.
And for that one stretch of time, nothing hurt. Nothing chased them. Nothing flickered beneath his skin.
Just a picnic. Just a day.
Just the people he loved.