Chapter Text
„…an, -chan? Yo-chan, wake up!“
The gentle voice of his mother and her gentle shaking woke him up, taking him away from dream-land.
He rubbed his eyes and yawned.
How long has he slept?
“Are you hungry, darling? You slept for eight hours , and there are still five left. You need to eat something!“
He nodded eagerly, pointing at the miso-soup on the menü his dad held out.
As the stewardess went away to deliver theyr orders, he looked out the window.
Above the clouds, the sky felt endless.
What had once been a distant ceiling of grey now stretched out like an open ocean of light, vast and untouched.
The clouds below formed a soft, rolling landscape, their edges glowing faintly under the sun.
Some rose higher than the rest, towering like silent mountains, casting gentle shadows across the white cotton candy.
The sunlight was different up here.
It poured across the clouds in golden sheets, making them shimmer as if dusted with something delicate and luminous.
Above it all, the sky deepened into a richer blue the higher it went, untouched by haze or distance.
It felt closer somehow, like you could reach out and brush against it.
It is comforting that this is the same sky as the one back at home in Japan.
The steaming soup got placed gently in front of him, distracting him from the view outside.
„Eat up, Yo-chan! But be careful, it‘s still hot!“
¡~!
It‘s time to count down.
In less than 15 minutes they‘ll land.
The plane began its slow descent, the steady hum of the engines softening as the ground crept closer.
Through the window, the world below sharpened from a blur of clouds into a patchwork of fields, roads, and scattered buildings.
Ah, so this is France!
A bright smile split his face in two.
The wings tilted slightly, adjusting against the wind, and the cabin lights flickered as the aircraft aligned with the runway.
A voice crackled over the intercom, calm and practiced but blurry, announcing their arrival.
Conversations faded into a quiet anticipation.
A sudden, jarring thud rippled through the cabin as the tires met the runway, shaking the passengers in theyr seats at the impact.
The plane sped forward for a few seconds before gradually slowing, the force pressing everyone gently into their seats.
Outside, the runway lights streaked past in quick succession, then softened as the aircraft taxied toward the terminal.
The tension in the cabin dissolved almost instantly: people stretching, unbuckling, reaching for their bags.
After hours suspended between places, they had finally arrived.
Welcome to France, Lyon.
¡~!
They have called a Taxi to bring them to theyr new home.
They all were tired, so his parents didn‘t dare to drive.
He observed the scenery passing by him as they drove to theyr new home.
It was so diffrent to Japan…
Back home he got used to the neatly maintained parks with trimmed trees and seasonal flowers, rivers bordered by walking paths and orderly enbankments.
The evironment was more modern and functional:
apartment blocks, convenience stores, wide roads, and lots of train infrastructure.
Neighborhoods are quieter and more residential, with less visual emphasis on history and more on efficiency.
It was relaxed, maybe even empty, since people there usually don’t spend a lot of time outside.
It can get quite lonely.
But here…
It‘s so diffrent.
Lyon feels like a historic, walkable city with distinct districts and landmarks.
He already saw so many cobblestone streets, Renaissance buildings, and hidden passageways, waiting for him to explore it all.
The endlessly moving locals are constantly surrounded by older architecture:
Apartment buildings with stone facades, small neighborhood bakeries, open-air markets, and cafés spilling onto sidewalks.
Even Basic routine errands might take one past historic streets or river views.
And it was so weird to see the locals shop at fresh markets and eat in small restaurants or cafés and observe theyr social life happens outdoors:
terraces, parks, or long meals with friends and so much more.
The car slowed down, as they entered a more suburb area.
The apartements and historical buildings got less and less frequent, until only whole rural houses were seen.
They arrived at theyr new home…
His parents already showed him plenty of pictures of the house, inside out.
It was really pretty:
The house fit in perfectly with the rest of the buildings, exept it had some small personal twists.
It was a narrow house, nestled along a quiet street, its façade painted a gentle baby-blue that stands out subtly against the warmer, earth-toned buildings nearby.
The windows are tall and vertically aligned, framed with simple white shutters that can be folded back to let in light.
On the top floor, one room opens onto a balcony tucked neatly into the roofline.
It’s just large enough for a small café table and a chair, with a wrought-iron railing that curves in delicate patterns.
From there, you could imagine a view over terracotta rooftops or a glimpse of the street below.
At ground level, instead of opening directly onto the street, there’s a modest garden set just behind a low, shiny, black iron gate that was bent into elegant shapes and patterns.
It’s not large, but thoughtfully arranged: some climbing ivy or roses tracing the wall, a small gravel or tiled path, and a patch of greenery with herbs or flowers he can‘t name.
The roof is sloped and tiled in classic reddish-brown clay, with small dormer windows peeking out.
Overall, the house feels balanced: traditional in structure, but made distinctive by its baby blue color, the intimate garden, and that inviting top-floor balcony.
Unique in it‘s own way.
A small smile made it‘s way on his face.
His mother took gently his hand and cooed to him:
“Let‘s check out the inside, Yo-chan!“
His father already was at the beautiful wooden door, adorned with metal flowers draped over the milky glass in the middle, unlocking the door for them.
“Look, Yo-chan! These metall-flowers are blue star water lily. They symbolise rebirth, spirituality and serenity.
It holds significant meaning in ancient Egyptian, Buddhist, and Sri Lankan traditions, often associated with the sun and the ability to rise above adversity!
Isn‘t that so poetic?“
He just nodded, eager to see the inside of the house.
Especially his own room.
He can‘t wait to go explore his own room and decorate it to his liking.
He tugged at his mom‘s arm, urging her to go inside, without any patience left for unneccesary conversation.
But what the usually so perceptive and observant Yoichi, who is tired from the long jorney, doesn’t see, is a pair of void-like-eyes observing him quietly from across the street.
What could possibly go through his head right now?