Kyoko had seen plenty of sunrises; that just happened when you had responsibilities pulling you out of bed before the sun. She must have seen them just about every day of her first year in Tokyo, when she could barely pause on her paper route to greet those first rays creeping in between buildings bathed in sleepy purple-grey light.

This was obviously on a different level than all that, though. Kyoko's hand fell from her mouth.

Was this just the power of mountain scenery? That seemed like it ought to be the answer, but Kyoko had never been to the mountains, and yet this was welling up a nostalgic feeling buried so deep it almost hurt. Maybe it was just the trees around them, and their familiar rustle as that gentle light fell down through the leaves, dappling the ground with shadows. Maybe it was also the lazy little stream dotted with smoothed stones, and the children crouched among them to split a popsicle.

"--Ah--"