Summer always came especially early in Sendai City. Before the May breeze had fully swept away spring's chill, the sun was already impatient to beat down on everyone.
Sunlight fell into the sandpit, heating the tiny golden grains until they felt warm underfoot.
An old pagoda tree stood beside the sandpit, its broad crown and dense foliage casting a wide patch of cool shade over the sand. When the wind blew, its leaves rustled, mingling with the distant drone of cicadas.
Summer was speaking to the world in its own language.
A boy crouched in the sandpit. His inky hair hung down over half his forehead. He wore a short-sleeved T-shirt with a cartoon printed on the chest and dark blue shorts, and sand clung to his knees.
He was building a sandcastle. He piled up wet sand one small shovelful at a time, patted it firm with his hands, carved battlements into the walls with a little knife, and used a thin twig to trace the lines between bricks.
"Yuta-"
The call came from behind him, slipping from slightly parted lips with a sweetness like cotton candy.
Okkotsu stopped what he was doing and turned toward the voice. Sunlight filtered through gaps in the leaves, casting dappled light and shadow across her face.
She stood less than two steps away. Her light brown hair fell to her shoulders, its ends swaying gently in the breeze. Her eyes were large and bright, like two polished black stones that could glow. Her nose was small, its tip slightly upturned, and that curve became more pronounced when she smiled. There was a mole at the corner of her mouth.
The corners of her lips tilted upward slightly. She wore a white dress with lace around the neckline, its hem fluttering just above