“Okay, let’s try this again,” Keika took a deep breath, her fingers arranged on the strings, as she then strummed the first note followed by the second and third and so on and so forth. A light serenade emanated from the guitar, playing the score inside her head, as she then let out her voice.

So get up! Get up!

The sun’s so high.

The fire’s burning inside you

As we run towards the future—

Keika stopped, feeling a slight off on both the last note and the last word of the chorus. She changed it up, raised the beat, and tried a more passionate play. It was sort of difficult in picking the string with Keika having outgrown the now smallish instrument, but she continued on regardless.

The fire’s burning inside you

As we run towards tomorrow

There it was. That perfect note and lyric, which she quickly wrote down on her notes. Keika continued playing her guitar and a few passing adults went to spectate a bit and gave her coins. From one sen turned to ten and later to thirty. It gave her motivation to move forward despite having not intended on being a street performer yet.

A glint of sunlight caught her eyes, as they passed through the blooming plum blossoms, giving off a pinkish hue on the park's sunny view. Keika even spotted a few couples walking around while holding each other’s hands, as well as the birth of new ones, mostly seniors who were a bit older than her.

Maybe I should’ve tried to write a love song, Keika thought, seeing that the current atmosphere perfectly suited it. However, she did not have any desire to write a love song. If anything, love songs would be the last thing she would want to write. I wonder how Dad and Mom are doing.

Then from the corner of the bench, her little cousin with hair dark as night climbed onto the chair then leaned onto Keika.

“Tired already?” she asked, to which Mihiro replied with a nod. Keika then looked onwards to the playground, where the children who played with Mihiro continued to do so without him. “That’s no good. You should feel excited like your friends.”

“Too much,” he said, simply, though Keika remained confused.

“You know Mihiro, wouldn’t it be better if you actually speak a lot more?” she pointed out. “Also, if you want me to play with you, I can’t. I gotta finish this song for the founding festival next month.”

“Play song.”

“It’s not finished.”

“Just play.”

“Mihiro-kun you …,” Keika felt the vein on her head growing, but she quickly calmed down by using the surefire method her dad taught her. Think about takoyaki. Think about takoyaki. I am hungry for takoyaki. And that she did. Keika really craved some good fried octopus balls.

After placing her guitar back into its casing and carrying it on her back, Keika recalled the path to the nearest takoyaki store from the park, mapping the road in her head. Then she proceeded to count the money in her pocket, both of what she initially owned and what she gained from her little street performance.

“Looks like it’s enough. Mihiro-kun, let’s go. We’re going to get some food,” she said.

“Yay, food!” he extended his arms up.

The two casually walked on the semi-busy streets, occasionally saying hello to the neighbors whom they were acquainted with, as well as kind-looking strangers, though Keika always remained conscious around them. Always keep one hand out in the open and one hand behind, said her aunt once. Confusing, but now that she was twelve, Keika could somewhat understand what her aunt meant.

That being said, she probably wouldn’t have approved of Mihiro going out alone even when she was accompanying him. Good thing Uncle Hikari approved it, Keika thought, as she and Mihiro looked both ways and crossed the streets.

“Oooh … robot!” Mihiro pointed to the automatons walking past them, both delivering a package. “Like Mister Cook!”

“Yup, but Mister Cook is a chef, not a deliverer,” said Keika, wondering for a moment of how things were going for Akito in the Tengokunashi District. Probably immersed in his experiments as always, which gave her a chuckle after remembering that red-headed bean wearing those thick goggles he once showed her.

Returning to the road, everything was as normal as it could be, though there was a strange man who passed them by. Very large and brute, wearing an all black kimono and a straw hat. A bizarre outfit of choice, but then again, he could be heading to someone’s funeral. Keika did wear the same back when her grandma died. Although, for some reason she could only remember the clothes, but never the people there, specifically the relatives. It all felt like a blur.

“Keika-nee!” Mihiro suddenly tugged on her kimono and pointed at the streets.

Keika turned and saw a carriage moving at full speed, its horse running out of control despite the coachman’s effort. In a blink of an eye, it reached the intersection where they were at, as Keika’s eyes were beholden to the horse’s trampling foot high above her.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Quickly, she tucked Mihiro in her embrace and shut her eyes in fear, bracing for impact. Suddenly, a shadow stepped in front of her and what followed was a large quake and the scream of horses and everyone around.

Keika opened her eyes once more, utterly shocked that she could. Her focus was first set to Mihiro, who too appeared fine. Frightened, but alright. She then raised her head and saw two horses on the ground trying to get back up, and looking back came the unbelievable sight of the carriage on the ground, split cleanly in half with the driver also safe on the ground with minor injuries.

Blade returned to its black sheath with golden clouds, catching Keika's eyes in an instant. “Are you two alright?” asked her savior, the man in black kimono, whose eyes were pale blue and whose hair had grayed due to old age.

Keika nodded and so too did Mihiro, both accepting his kind gesture and got back up on their feet. “Thank you, sir,” said Keika.

“No need to do so,” he replied. “It’s just what anyone would’ve done.”

“I don’t think anyone could do what you just did, sir.”

The man looked back at what he’d done and gave no comment. With a crowd soon gathering, the man tipped his straw hat to them and quickly fled the scene. He must’ve been one of those unregistered mages her father once talked about. Otherwise, why would he try to evade the public eye?

After some time being treated in a nearby clinic, the two were let go with only a couple of scrapes and bruises. Nothing serious nor anything that would lead to a scar, but the image of the event continued to haunt them whenever they closed their eyes, with Mihiro’s trembling hands now gripping on Keika’s sleeves. The same for her, having not let go of her guitar since being released from care.

A familiar voice soon came from the clinic doors, calling out their names, yet vehemently stopped from entering by the officers stationed. A man in rough patched clothes, stained in both dirt and filth, yet bearing a worried expression on that ever so kind face of his. That and the unmistakable dark hair and eyes carrying semblance to Mihiro, who quickly rushed toward him.

“Dad! Dad!”

“Mihiro? MIHIRO!” the two

And right as they got out, they were met with a tight embrace by a man in dirty-looking clothes.

“Mihiro-kun, Keika-chan! Thank the stars that the two of you are alright,” cried Keika’s uncle and Mihiro’s father, Hikari Tsuchida, who looked deathly worried with exasperating breaths. “I came rushing in as soon as I got the telegram.”

“Dad! Dad!” Mihiro called. “A mage saved us. A mage like mom, but not like mom. He cut the carriage in half!”

“So now you speak like a normal person,” Keika crossed her arms, irritated, but received a stern stare from her uncle.

“Anyway, it’s good that you’re both safe and sound,” he sighed in relief and proceeded to take them to his ride parked around the corner.

It was an ordinary cart pulled by a single whiskered horse, carrying lots and lots of trash bags behind which gave off a putrid scent, repelling pedestrians around, who quickly pressed their nose on passing them. The same went for Keika and Mihiro, as they both climbed aboard and faced the brunt of the smell then and there.

Uncle Hikari, however, was unaffected, having gotten used to it due to his job as the Takamichi District’s local garbage man and the few left standing. Despite Uncle Hikari’s scrawny-looking body, he was out of the ordinary when it came to strength. So much so that even the pedestrians were shocked at how he could lift seven large trash bags of medical waste at once without breaking a sweat.

Once they were ready, Uncle Hikari tugged the reins and the horse moved forth across the streets. Although he didn’t seem to be finished with work, Uncle Hikari nonetheless took them on the way home. To pass the time, Keika took out her guitar and played some tunes.

Maybe a familiar song, she thought, arranging her fingers and strumming the strings, producing a calm melody of a song she and her friends had been listening to for a while. Mihiro then caved in by tapping on his seat, creating beats which helped Keika in her tempo. Her cousin certainly had a knack for rhythm.

Meanwhile, Uncle Hikari was vibing with the stellar tune. Even went on to hum the lyrics, which he seemed to know relatively well. Was his voice good though? No, he was tone deaf and thus ruined the entire play, but nevertheless, Keika continued playing as if there was no one in the world except her. That being said, playing with a rather small guitar which she’d gotten at the age of eight really did become increasingly difficult.

“You sure you don’t want a new guitar?” asked her uncle, kindly. “I’ve recently got a raise in Chiki Yume,” he referred to the restaurant where he worked during weekends. “Add that to next week’s payment and I’ll have saved enough for a guitar. It may not be one of those high-classed, expensive guitars, but it’ll let you play to your heart’s content.”

The offer did look appealing, but Keika shook her head. “Dad gave this to me, so I’ll play it forever and ever. It’s my one and only guitar.”

“Is that so?” Uncle Hikari looked to be thinking something. “Then how about I barge into your father’s office, drag him to a music store, and get him to pick you a guitar himself?”

“No need. I don’t want to bother Dad,” Keika replied. Not for something stupid. Her guitar slowed down, playing the song in a calmer yet somber tune. “Why not buy an instrument for Mihiro-kun? He’s great at rhythmic play, so maybe a drum kit would do.”

Her cousin’s eyes brightened, as he turned to his father and muttered, “Play drums.”

Uncle looked at Keika for a few seconds before shifting his gaze toward his son. “Alright. I’ll buy you a drum. Not the whole kit though. Your parents’ debt remains large still, but should be finished around this year.”

“Then I’ll cast magic to make mom’s and dad’s debt go away!” Mihiro said, making an explosive gesture with his hands. That being said, he probably didn’t know what debt was. Neither did Keika, who only knew that being in debt equaled to having money troubles.

“It would certainly be useful if there was a mage who willingly specialize in a magic involving monetary value. Not that anyone has ever done so,” Uncle Hikari added. “Well, you’re still way too early to experience an ‘blooming’. Until then, we’ll just have to keep working hard.”

Keika admired her uncle, who’d spent day after day working odd jobs like this one just to keep themselves alive. The same for her aunt, who was currently on a mission to impart wisdom to people who might bring about a better life for both the nation and its people. Really a stark difference to how it was before, back when she stayed in her mother’s family estate.

Huh, why can’t I recall those times?”

Then her uncle said, “One more thing, you two probably won’t be going outside freely anytime soon.”

“Huh, but why?” asked Mihiro, and the answer to that couldn’t be any more obvious.

Aunt Kazuko would most likely bar both Mihiro and herself from going outside unaccompanied. Talk about being too overprotective. At least, that was until today’s incident, which left a lasting impact on Keika. However, she could always return to the language of song. That was what she did ever since she received her first instrument, though she couldn’t remember it for some reason.

The strong emotions Keika kept within, both the good and the bad, would nonetheless find their way out one way or another. With a strum of her guitar, it felt as if a great burden had been released for her center. It wasn’t a perfect solution, as bits of those emotions still lingered within her heart, but at least it was enough to keep them from overflowing.

Enough to keep them happy.