Today is my birthday.
I didn't wake up with excitement.
No shouting, no jumping, no sparkles like before.
Just… light.
Soft and golden, slipping through the curtain, warming my blanket,
touching the little shelf by my bed —
where Yui's memory box still sits.
Unmoved. Untouched.
Sacred.
I sat up slowly.
Tama was curled by my feet, her little body rising and falling gently.
Shiba-inu rested beside my pillow, his fur a little worn now…
but still strong.
Still loyal.
I didn't say anything.
Just reached out my hand and touched the box.
Not to open it.
Just to feel it.
To let it know I remembered.
"Happy birthday, Hideki," I whispered to myself.
"You're six now."
There was no candle yet.
No birthday song.
But inside me…
Yui's voice still sang.
The wish I made last year —
it didn't disappear.
It just grew up a little with me.
I'm taller now.
My drawings have more shapes.
I write sentences that Mama says are real ones.
I sing in tune.
And I can spell "remember."
I still do.
Mama and Papa were already awake when I got out of bed.
They were dressed up, smiling, moving like today was special.
And then I remembered.
Today is the day.
My first day of going to… "School."
That place Mama talked about —
Where I can play with new friends.
Where I can learn things.
Where I can become smart… like Papa.
But honestly?
I didn't want to go.
Why did I have to go to a place called school?
Why couldn't I just stay home with Shiba and Tama and Mama's cooking?
But I didn't say all that.
I just got ready… because Mama and Papa were going with me.
And if they were with me, maybe it wouldn't be too scary.
In the car, I sat quietly.
I wore new clothes I'd never seen before —
a shirt with buttons and pants that didn't feel like home.
And on my head… was a yellow hat.
A very yellow hat.
I stared at it in my lap at first.
But then Mama said, "Aww, Hideki, you look so cute!"
And Papa added with a proud grin, "You're a handsome buddy, you know that?"
So… I put the hat on.
And even though I didn't like how it felt,
I liked how they looked at me when I wore it.
And for now, that was enough.
The car stopped, and we parked beside a line of other cars.
Mama opened the door, and for a moment, I couldn't tell if her face was glowing because of the morning sun —
or because she was smiling so brightly at me.
She leaned down and fixed my collar. Checked my bag.
Brushed something invisible off my hat.
Like she was making sure everything was just right.
For my first day of school.
Papa came around and gently took my hand.
"Ready, buddy?" he asked.
I wanted to say no.
I really, really did.
But his hand felt warm. Strong.
And Mama was already holding my other hand.
So we walked together —
the three of us, hand in hand —
to the big gate.
There was an uncle at the entrance who smiled and greeted everyone.
He looked happy.
But I didn't say anything back. I just held Mama's hand tighter.
She led me to a lady wearing soft clothes and a name tag.
"This is your teacher," Mama said gently.
I looked up at the teacher.
She smiled and bent down to my level.
She said her name, but I forgot it right away —
because my eyes were too busy watching Mama.
Then came the hug.
Mama bent down, wrapped her arms around me.
Tight. Warm. Safe.
Papa ruffled my hair and gave me a quiet pat on the back.
Then… they let go.
They started walking away,
but they didn't disappear.
They stood nearby, watching — just a little distance away.
Like they didn't want to leave either.
I held the teacher's hand now.
It didn't feel the same.
Not bad. Just… different.
We walked past colorful walls and paintings of animals.
Through a hallway that smelled like crayons and something new.
And then into a room filled with desks.
There were so many kids.
All of them talking.
All of them strangers.
The teacher gently pointed me to a seat.
I sat.
There was a boy beside me.
He didn't say anything.
I didn't either.
Because I didn't know him.
Or anyone else.
I just looked out the window,
to where Mama and Papa were still standing —
watching me.
And for now…
that's where my eyes stayed.
The teacher started walking around the classroom, holding a clipboard.
She began calling names — one by one.
"Ren."
"Yes!"
"Takumi."
"Yes!"
Each kid shouted when their name was called.
Loud and clear.
Like they already knew how to do this.
I listened, but not really.
The names came and went like soft wind.
"Rina."
"Haruka."
"Emi."
"Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Then she came closer —
step by step until she was right near me.
"Hideki Hoshino," she said, looking up from her paper.
My heart jumped a little,
but I sat straight and said just like the others:
"Y-Yes!"
She nodded at me with a small smile,
then turned to the boy sitting beside me.
"Shin Takamiya."
And then —
"Yes!"
His voice was so full of energy.
Like a little firecracker.
He said it with his back straight, like he was ready for anything.
I looked at him.
Really looked this time.
His hair was a bit messy,
his eyes sharp and excited.
Like the kind of kid who doesn't wait for anything to begin —
he starts it himself.
So that's his name.
Shin.
The boy who sits beside me.