“Welcome home, Ishimoto. I trust school went well today?” His parents are sitting at the dinner table, their fine clothing a symbol of their status in the world of law. They speak with the hint of a dagger and a solemn blanket.

“Yes sir, yes ma’am,” he responds in a kind and respectful voice.

“May I please be excused for a moment? I have a question to ask you soon as well.” His parents grant him permission, and he goes to his room. He gets everything he needs, a journal, a pencil, a sharpener, and a binder. He wishes to record the findings, which they will all discuss soon. It is best to keep it documented for personal reference and if needed. He was always one to think ahead of time.

Back in the kitchen, he joins his parents in a dining chair. Dinner is ready, but he won’t be having any. “Dad. Mom. May I please go out with my friends to the ice cream shop?” This was the reality of Ishimoto. An adult having to ask his parents' permission to leave their house. Under their roof, their word is law, and it is never to be broken.

“Whatever for?” asks his father.

“I wish to spend time with them,” he responds.

His parents exchange glances, their glassy eyes locked, and it is almost as if they communicate telepathically. They were one and the same; it would seem romantic to anyone outside of his family, but to him, he could see. It is a transaction, a processing of information, and the best outcome and worst scenarios, not always for the safety of Ishimoto but for their own reputation.

“You may. On the condition that you will not stay out past 8 p.m., understood?” a ridged, calculated voice belonging to his mother states.

“Understood. Thank you.” He raises up and bows perfectly. It was taught to him to always be proper and to not deviate from it. His parents take all of him in, his father closing his eyes and giving a silent sigh. There is disappointment in him, and Ishimoto understands why as he leaves his house, skipping dinner.

#

“Ishi? Ishi? Ishi!?” a voice calls.

“Okazaki, have you seen Ishimoto?” the tender voice asks. A boy not taller than an end table drops from the handlebars.

“No idea, Angel, but we should find him. I don’t want him getting lost or worse.”

“Yeah… if that happened, I would miss him…”

“Me too, so let’s go find him!” The two search throughout the park, through the slide, underneath the merry-go-round, and around the immediate area. Nothing. It’s as if he has faded away from the earth. He isn’t an easy boy to find, small and inconspicuous. Then, a rustling in a pile of leaves.

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“Hey…” Angel whispers and gets down lower to the ground.

“Check that out. The leaves are moving. You thinking what I’m thinking?” She smirks.

“What?” Okazaki responds, being completely lost.

“You find yourself lost a lot, too, don’t you?” She chuckles and heads over to the pile of leaves. The rustling has stopped. Angel trots around it, and her heels crunch into the summer greens.

“I wonder where Ishi can be.” She snickers and approaches the pile further like a whirlpool.

“Angel, you’re like a water spout circling around,” Okazaki exclaims and follows her lead.

The two circle around, and the boy inside laughs, hearing them getting closer and closer until they’re right on the edge. He then jumps out, spraying the leaves into the warm air as he pounces out into a bed of leaves.

“You both found me! I thought it was a great hiding spot,” the short and petite boy says.

They all laugh, then lay beside one another, staring into the sky, the sun bearing them on them like a hot blanket. The trio have been close since birth. Being six years old now, they’re beginning to experience the world for the first time. Their adventure to the local park has tired them all out. Ishimoto pokes Okazaki's face, then Angel's.

“You guys are so smart. How did you find me?”

“Us smart? You’re the smart one,” Angel responds, getting back up and heading for the slide.

“Now come on guys, let’s keep having fun, race you all down the slide!” They all head for the slide. Climbing up at first, Angel, the peeling reefs of the old park show on the sides of the equipment and the heated metal a scathing burn. Angel tumbles down onto the grass, her hands sizzling and her face scrunched in agony.

“Oww!” she screams. Tears begin to form out the sides of her eyes, and a wilting body shields herself, not wanting to appear entirely weak as the two boys rough the ground with their knees checking her.

“Angel, are you okay!?” Ishimoto asks.

“What happened!?” Adds Okazaki to the concern.

“Yeah, I’m okay… That thing was just really hot. It really hurt…” The boys continue to check on her, and they can see redness blistering her hand. It’s a deep sear. It seems to be coating itself into her flesh, almost like a brand.

“Dang, that looks bad, Angel. You really laid it on yourself this time.” Helping her up, she peeks down at it. Not the entirety of her hand is seared, mainly the middle, and seems to form almost a circle.

“This is… aww, I think that’s going to stay there… I hope my parents don’t say anything about it…” Angel never liked her parents to know when she got hurt. They always make a big deal of it, and a lesson always has to be learned from them.

“Well, whatever. Be careful, guys. Let’s go to the swings instead. Maybe they're not as hot,” she says, skipping over to them. The four swing sets are more than enough as they all take their seats. They swing back and forth, getting higher into the air. Okazaki, always being a showoff, is reaching the near atmosphere.

“Look at me, guys, I’m going to head off into space!”

“I want to go that high, too! Do you guys think if I go high enough, I can reach heaven?”

“You can do anything you set your mind too, Angel, just keep up at it and work hard. That’s what my parents always say!” Ishimoto encourages. These days seem to last forever. The running air and the creaks of the swings sound until dawn, the night starting to shine through.

“That was so fun! But I should be getting home. My parents will be angry otherwise.” Okazaki swings himself off and waves goodbye.

“Yeah, same. Bye-bye!” Everyone goes their separate ways, their houses being less than a mile walk away. Their neighborhood has always been safe, so they are allowed to walk back unaided. Most neighbors during this time were safe, too. It is all to change. But some things never do.