Chapter Text
Every year, hundreds of witch's turn eighteen, and leave home for their final solo training. If you asked any other witch, they'd tell you about how excited they are to leave home and find their own town, about how much of an honor it is to reach that level of your training and that they can't wait to find their new homes. But if you'd ask Tamaki, he'd probably have a panic attack just trying to explain how dreadful and terrifying the mere thought of leaving his home is. He'd been scared of a lot of things in his life, but from the moment he could comprehend his future, he was stricken by fear at the fate he knew he had no choice in.
And that's why, on the day of the first full moon after his birthday, he's curled up in the corner of his home's dusty old attic like a child playing hide and seek, but with more gut clenching terror and irrational panic. He can hear his mother calling his name from downstairs as she looks for him, surely intending to help him pack so he can leave tonight. But he just can't bring himself to move from his spot behind the stacks of old boxes and expired magic supplies. His (rather poor) plan to stay holed up in the attic until the full moon passes is sure to fail even with his mother looking for him, he's sure, because his black cat, and best/only friend, Nejire won't stop running in circles around the attic floor screaming her head off about how excited she is to leave. Let him just say, a screaming cat and a barely held back panic attack aren't a good combination for holding off a chronic migraine.
Groaning and clutching his head in his hands, knees drawn up to his chest, he keeps his eyes squeezed shut. If he pretends none of this is happening, maybe it'll stop. He can feel the recognizable creep of overstimulation coming over him though. The world is swirling too fast around him, and even the tiniest movement makes him feel nauseous. His vision is darkening at the edges, breath shallow with panic. Hoping for solitude and peace is no use, as he hears the familiar padding of his mother coming up the stairs, most likely following the sound of Nejire's screaming.
"Tama? Are you up here sweetheart?" As much as her presence brings with her the reminder of his inevitable departure, the familiar trill-like bells of her voice is always able to calm him, his childhood filled with her singing voice protecting him from his infinite number of fears. Just like that, he's able to breath again, albeit shakily, and look up from where his head was knocked against the low angled ceiling.
"I'm over here mama…" he croaks. She was going to find him anyways he surmises. It takes only a moment for her to find him among the piles, and even less time to crouch down at his side, resting a gentle, work-callused hand between his trembling shoulders. She hums softly, rubbing circles along his back. The firm and steady pressure grounds him back to reality, and bit by bit his breathing slows to a reasonable tempo. His heart still feels too heavy in his chest, each beat too harsh and pounding for comfort, but he's never really free of the anxiety anyways. It lays like a big, twitchy spider that's burrowed its way inside him, making a nest in his lungs and sporadically digging its hairy legs into his heart. His mother's humming voice and gentle hands lulls it to sleep, but it's still there, sitting heavy in his guts.
"Oh Tama, it's okay sweetheart, it's okay. Are you okay to get up? You need to get ready for tonight, even if you're scared darling." She pulls him to lean against her, one thin arm wrapped over his shoulders. The angle is awkward with his height but comforting nonetheless, even if her long hair, the same oil slick black as his, is getting in his mouth when he tries to respond.
"Okay, mama," Tamaki mumbles quietly, trying his best to hide behind his hair when he pulls away from her to stand. His stiff joints protest the movement and the world swims around him for a moment before his mother follows, gripping him at the shoulders to keep him steady until he's adjusted to the movement.
"Don't get up so fast, you were just hyperventilating a few moments ago," his mother reminds him, mouth set in a firm line as she looks over him. "Oh goodness, what am I gonna do with you gone. My baby's all grown up now."
He can feel the moment his face bursts into color, the blush always showing up splotchy on his pale skin. "Mamaaaa! That's embarrassing~!" Tamaki whines out, nearly slapping himself with how fast his hands come up to hide his face. His complaints just earn a tittering giggle from his mother, and when he peaks out between his fingers, her blue eyes are lit up with a playful humor, the little crows feet at the edges telling more about her happiness in life than about her age. They're the only real visual difference between them, all of her facial features and other coloring passed on to him but the eyes. The dark coal black of his eyes is the only similarity he has to his father, outwardly at least. Despite their dramatically different appearances, they are both quiet, nervous people who seem to constantly be at the whims of his mother, who is always confident and steady, clearly the head of the family. It was nerve wracking to try and live up to her, in both magic AND personality.
She bends at the waist to pick up Nejire, who has thankfully stayed quiet during the encounter, until she's passed over to sit perched on Tamaki's shoulder. "You're such a chicken Tama, we'll be totally fine. How can you not be excited?!" She yowls right in his ear, her fluffed out tail swishing back and forth along his back rapidly in her excitement. His mother chuckles softly at her antics.
"She's right Tamaki, you should be excited! You're a very talented witch and whatever town you choose will be lucky to have you. I've never heard of a witch that could transfigure themselves as easily as you do, even if you have some trouble with stage fright. It's not easy to summon fully functioning wings or octopus arms y'know," she smiles encouragingly, leading him by the elbow back down to the second floor even as he protests her words. "Now go get your clothes packed, your father and I have a few things to give you afterwards." She pushes him gently down the hall towards his room, stopping halfway as he finally wills his legs to walk on their own. Just as he's reached his bedroom door, his mother calls after him, down the short corridor. "And Tamaki? I'm so so proud of you." With that, she flashes him a bright smile and turns on her heel, leaving him to blush and whine to Nejire.
Sitting on his bed, bag half full of an extra set of clothes and his necessities, Tamaki looks around his childhood bedroom one more time. The room isn't small by any means, but it's full of memories to the point of suffocation. The soft, mint green of the walls, peeling in some spots, reminds him of the day his family spent painting because his mother thought the original beige color didn't fit him well. The wide open windows letting in the early spring breeze, ivy seen through the windows crawling up the old stone, reminds him of all the times Nejire and him would sit on the roof, charting constellations and talking about the future, however scary it might be. The heavy woolen rug in the middle of his floor, in the shape of a cloud, reminds him of the times he would sit on that rug and play board games with his father, the two hiding up in his room because his mother was working on some important spell or potion and needn't be disturbed. The surplus of various plants potted throughout the room bring a squeeze of emotion to his heart, and reminds of the hours he spent whispering little nothings to them about his day and observations about the other villagers, trusting them as the only confidants that would never truly judge him. Every little thing in this room reminds him of some little piece of his life he doesn't want to let go.
Two light knocks at his door shake him out of his thoughts, and he calls out a light "come in" in response. The door swings open and his father peaks in, sporting a sympathetic smile as they meet eyes. "Hey kiddo. Your mother told me that tonight's the big night. I'd ask if you were nervous but you're like me, always nervous," he chuckles, making his way over to sit beside his son. Nejire doesn't hesitate to hop up and curl into his lap, purring loudly at the attention he automatically gives her.
"It's scary Papa," Tamaki breaths out, bringing his knees up to his chest and resolutely not looking his way. "Mama is so great, has always been so great, and I'm…. Just me, a nervous witch who can't use his magic if too many people are looking. And what do I tell people about me being a boy? Everyone knows that witches are girls, so somebody's gonna ask!" He whimpers out, clutching his legs close to himself. A terrified shiver wracks his body as he imagines the many situations that could land him in. Not everyone was as supportive as his parents, and not every town as prone to personal space as the one he lives in now.
"Tamaki, you know I'm not as good at the whole optimism thing as your mother, but I can tell you that you're just as amazing as your mother," he peeks towards the door before leaning in, grinning. "If not, then you're better than her. But don't tell her I said that." That miraculously draws a weak chuckle from Tamaki, who shakes his head at his father's antics. "And! If anyone asks about the boy thing, if they're not important, just tell them that you're a boy and that's just how it is! And if they're important to you, they'll understand if you explain the whole gender thing. I know you're better at explaining it than I am." He smiles goodnaturedly, setting a hand into Tamaki's hair and ruffling it till it sticks up in clumps like feathers, ignoring his sons complaints.
"Tamaki! Hurry and come downstairs!" His mother's voice shouts up at them from the staircase.
"Well, sounds like your mother's waiting for us. Better not leave her waiting or she'll come get us by the scruff." He nudges Nejire off his lap, who grumbles what sounds suspiciously like an expletive at him for disturbing her when she'd settled into a cat nap. "Grab your stuff you two, your mother and I have some things to give you when you come down." And like that, Tamaki is (mostly) alone in his room once more.
Letting out a heavy sigh, he slings his bag over one shoulder, and follows his father downstairs, Nejire trotting at his heels. Downstairs, they find his mother at the dining table, an old wooden thing cut from an ancient oak tree that fell on their property. The edges are still lined with bark and the surface slightly wonky from the large knots in the tree, but it was made by his grandfather as a wedding gift for his parents, and his mother always talked about how much she loved that oak, so thus the oddly shaped table was a beloved piece. His mother is standing before it, hiding something behind her back when they walk up. She grins widely, before snatching Tamaki into a tight hug, her own black cat winding between their legs with Nejire.
"Oh goodness, I'm so so proud of my baby boy, all grown up and leaving the nest!" Tamaki just lets himself be manhandled by her, knowing half of this was theatrics and the other was genuine emotion. At least this angle is easier to hug at, him resting his chin on her head as she squeezes him tight around the middle. She seems set on never letting go, which Tamaki can live with, honestly, he'd prefer, but his father eventually steps in, resting a hand on her shoulder.
"Come on dear, we still have some things to give him, and the sun is going to set soon." She nods in agreement, brushing the newly formed tears out of her eyes as she does so.
"I know, I know," she sighs, before perking back up again quickly. "Oh! Tamaki you're going to love them!" She turns quickly and grabs the two paper bags on the table she had previously been hiding from view. "Here, look, look!"
She passes the first off to him and, ignoring the nervous twitching in his hands, he unfolds the top to look inside. In the bag sits a compact little travel radio, correction, his mother's compact little travel radio, the same one she kept on and hooked to her belt most of the time, and the same one Tamaki would sit and listen to all day as a child, playing with the little knobs and buttons. Looking up sharply towards his mother, he lets the shock show clear on his face.
"But-- But this is your radio, I thought you loved this thing?" He sputters in disbelief, clutching the paper bag close to his chest.
"Oh, I do love it," she beams, "but you love it more, and I want you to have something of me when you go. There's a few cassettes packed underneath it for you too, you should listen to them later. But first!" She snatches the radio bag from his hands and shoves the other, much more packed full bag, into its place, excited.
Opening this one hesitantly, he's not sure what to expect, but when he looks in, he blinks once, twice, then looks up. "Clothes?"
His mother bounces on her heels, clapping her hands together in happiness. "It's your witch's clothing! I made it myself! It's tradition for a witch to wear a dark violet dress, but since you're trans, I took it upon myself to make you an outfit that would suit you better. It's still the traditional color, but is much more suited for a boy." She smiles wide, clearly excited and proud of her work. Tamaki just stares back at her, before his vision starts to blur with tears and it's his turn to lunge forward, dragging his parents into a hug. His mother laughs wetly, her own renewed tears wetting his shoulder and his father tightens his arms around them.
"I love you so much," Tamaki whispers, never wanting to leave this moment. But good things never last, and eventually his parents pull away, urging him to go and get changed before they run out of time.
Heading back upstairs once more, he ducks into his room one last time to change, hands shaking as he tugs his t-shirt over his head and tosses it aside. A few minutes pass as he changes into the new outfit and once he's finished, he stands in the full length mirror in the corner of his bedroom, nitpicking and criticizing his appearance.
It wasn't… terrible. But it was much more… flashy than he was used to. Black dress pants and matching black vest over a nice button down in the tradition deep violet with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows in an attempt to make it less formal looking. It's nice, his mother was always a good seamstress, and would surely stay together during his training. But he can't help but critic the long line of his legs, how thin his waist looks with the fitted vest, how pale his skin is in comparison the dark colors. At least it compliments his hair well. The late evening sun seeps through his windows to turn his hair from its usual black to various shades of deep shifting greens and purples, like the iridescent black of a raven's feathers, or the color of an oil slick hit with light. His mother always said it was a trait that ran in their family magic, that not all witches and certainly not normal humans had oddly colored hair like they did. Whilst he hated the attention it got him when he'd venture into town, he couldn't say he hates having his mother's coloring. It reminded him of her, and he could never hate something she gave him.
Pushing his thoughts away, he tugs his shoes back on, ignoring how the junky old converse contrasts with the nice clothes, and hurries back downstairs. His parents are right where he left them, talking in hushed tones about who-knows-what.
When he walks up to them, they both go quiet at once. Staring resolutely at the ground, he can feel their eyes raking over him, judging just like he did to himself he's sure. The silence goes on a beat too long before his mother chokes out a sob and lunges at him, almost knocking him over before he can catch his balance. Both her arms are wrapped all the way around him, locking his arms to his sides as she cries into his chest.
"Y-you look… amazing s-sweetie!" She pulls back just a bit to avoid getting tears over his new clothes, and to take one more look over him. "So, so handsome, my sweet boy!" As much as her compliments make his ears burn and force him to hide under his bangs, the wholehearted support from her makes him feel giddy, and he's reminded how amazing his parents are. One more reason he doesn't want to leave.
"This is sweet and all, but Tamaki! The sun is almost down and you're not fully packed yet!" Nejire yowls from where she sits perched on the table, tail flicking excitedly. His mother jerks out of the hug at her reminder.
"Oh goodness she's right!" She leans to look past him towards the closest window. "Tamaki dear, get your radio in your bag, and the extra dress shirt too, I'll go get your last present!" Before he can protest another present, she's scurried off upstairs, and his father is chuckling at her excitement and Tamaki's clear exasperation. Resigning himself to his fate, he tucks the extra dress shirt in with his casual clothes, and hooks the travel radio to his bag strap so he can keep it handy, stuffing the cassettes between his clothes to keep them safe.
It doesn't take long for him to hear his mother's heels clicking hurriedly down the stairs, and when he turns to face the doorway, he's met with the shocking view of his mother holding out her broom, her favorite old one that she flew when she was his age. The straw has been replaced numerous times, the pole is old and nicked in places, and its seeped in his mother's magic the way an old shirt carries its owners scent. But it's also the broom he learned to fly on, the one his mother flew him to visit his grandparents on when he was little, and it held almost as many memories for him as it did for her. She steps up to him, holding out the old broom towards him to take.
"Sweetheart, please take my broom. I'd feel best if you flew on it, I know it'll keep you safe and steady while you fly." Her smile is gentle but tinged with heartbreak, the reality of the night finally fully settling in for them all. By tradition, he won't be back to see them for at least a year, only letters and phone calls as communication, and even then, he won't be coming back to live with them. Tonight he is going to set out as an adult witch to find his calling, his very own city, and start building his own life separate from other witches, including his family. The thought awakens that monstrous spider in his guts, the spindly legs of anxiety twitching back to life within him. But before he can start breaking down again, his mother thrusts the old broom into his hands and steps back away, her eyes filled with pride that feels so misplaced on him. "Come on, Nejire seems impatient to get going, and the light should be gone any minute now."
Sure enough, when he glances back to the table, Nejire is pacing back and forth, tail twitching with the unused energy. Their eyes meet and an unspoken word is passed between them, a reassurance of companionship from her, and an admittance of fear from him. Gripping the broom white-knuckled, he shifts his bag where its strap sits over his shoulder. As much as he wants to, there's no more delaying it. He can only be glad his parents are so comforting and supportive, and that he won't be alone on this journey. Nejire may be excitable and the definition of "curiosity killed the cat", but she's also dependable and smart, and won't let him get in too much trouble he's sure. He hopes.
Standing outside their little stone cottage in the dark of night, only the porch lantern illuminating them, Tamaki says goodbye to his parents one more final time, promising to write as soon as he's settled down and tell them where he's found himself and how he's doing. His mother fusses over him, making him double and triple check that he has everything he needs, especially his medicines, for at least five minutes before letting him go with a proud smile and a hiccup, still suppressing tears with the best of her ability. His father is much less expressive, but hugs Tamaki tightly, then holds him at arms length to tell him how proud of his son he is. The whole ordeal is embarrassing and overly sappy but when Tamaki mounts his mother's old broom and looks back towards them one final time, he wants to crawl back into his mother's arms and deal with the sappiness for the rest of his life.
It takes all of his willpower and all of his admittedly very tiny confidence to ignite his magic, the familiar spark within himself bursting into a firecracker, the power radiating from his heart to his limbs and then outwards to mingle with his mother's magical signature seeped into the broom beneath him. The act of flying a broom comes easily to him these days, as simple as walking, and with no lack of dissociation, he takes off into the sky, the sound of his mother's voice and the windchimes fading into the distance.
Of all the numerous things Tamaki has been afraid of in his life, flying has never ever been one of them. Flying high above the towns and rolling fields brings him a sort of peace he can never find on the ground. Even as he flies his way southward, the wind whipping his hair about, he can feel that monster in his chest quiet down, its constantly twitching legs slow to a weak twitching rather than the powerful rolling it had been doing a few minutes ago.
"Where are we going?" Nejire yowls over the sound of wind. She's perched comfortably on the broomstick, bracketed by his arms clutching the broom. Years ago she may have had to clutch onto him to stay seated, but these days flying came as naturally to her as to him.
"I want to go south, to the ocean. Maybe there will be a little tiny town on the coast we can settle in. Something with as few people as possible," he whines. Nejire whines back at him.
"Ew, water?! Can we at least find a big city if we're gonna be at the ocean? I wanna see the sights, there's nothing interesting in little towns!" She looks up at him, blue eyes big as she gives him that patented sad kitten stare that always gets him to do things he doesn't want to do. Gripping the broom tight and staring resolutely ahead, Tamaki tries his damn best to ignore it and her request, but her uncharacteristic silence wears on him fast.
"Please Nejire, I really don't want to…" he tries desperately to argue with her, knowing that it's useless in the end anyways.
"Oh c'mon you chicken, we've lived in a tiny town all our lives, it'll be an adventure!" He's not looking, but he can feel how her stare turns mischievous. "Besides, in a tiny town, everyone will know about you. In a big town, you can stay more anonymous than you would in a little village!"
There's the unarguable point he knew Nejire was going to give him. And he really can't argue with that, the thought of living in a little town spoiling in a quick moment. The thought of living without people knowing about him or talking about him is something he would love, even if he knows it won't happen no matter where he is. The life of a witch is one tinged with light fame. It comes with the tradition of not sharing towns that they kept even today. As more towns sprung up, there were less ones with witches living in them, so witches were always noticed wherever they went. But Nejire is right, if he settles in a large city, there's less chance of being immediately noticed and swarmed. Even if there will be more people, he can keep some sense of anonymity there.
"Nejire… Why are you always right?" His complaints earns him a content purr from his friend as they fly on. He lets his mind wander to what he's memorized of the countries map, and what larger cities sit on the coast that they could choose from that should be free of witches. Most witches don't settle down near the coast anyways, it's such a long flight to make from up north where most witches live. It'll definitely take him at least an entire day to make it to the southern coast, and that's just to reach the ocean. It could take so much longer to find the perfect city. If he remembers correctly, his mother had stopped in four towns before settling into the tiny village he grew up in.
In an attempt at distracting himself he scrambles for the radio with one hand, keeping the broom steady with the other. It's a bit of a struggle but he manages to click it on, jerking the volume knob up so the air around them is quickly filled with music of the closest radio station. The song playing is a bit more upbeat than his usual tastes, but it's soothing nonetheless. It's easy to focus on the lyrics and just fly on through the night, the full moon so bright it's easy to see the world around them. Nejire thankfully takes this as the end of their conversation and starts jabbering about whatever city they're going to stay in will be like, rapid firing wonderings without pausing or expecting an answer. It's familiar, and for now he can pretend they're going to be okay.
They've been traveling for awhile now, could be an hour or four with how absorbed Tamaki has been in the music, when they're hit by the first gust of wind. He supposes he should've expected something like this, the weather report calling for clear skies had only covered the area around his little home and he was surely far past there by now. But when he spots the heavy rain clouds approaching rapidly from the south, right in his path, he's struck by panic once again.
"Nejire! There's a storm! Oh god, we're going to die, I'm gonna get struck by lightning, or crash into a tree, or get lost and die in the wilderness," he's so busy rambling on about various ways they're going to die that he doesn't notice Nejire yowling something back at him at first.
"Hey chicken, look down there! There's a train we can hide in, it's not moving and I think the rooftop is open." Her calm, familiar voice jerks him out of his panic long enough to follow her line of sight, spotting a sitting train below them. Sure enough, a few of the train cars have open hatches on their roofs, large enough for him to land into.
"But Nejire, what if we get caught?"
"Oh c'mon, you're young and cute, surely you can get away with saying you were lost and needed shelter from the storm, we'll be fine. And we'll leave in the morning before anyone sees us anyways."
Once again, he can't find a way to argue with her, since the surrounding area is nothing but woodlands and rolling fields. There's no way they would be able to find a town to take shelter in before the storm reaches them. So, he lets out a heartfelt groan and angles the broom to take them down, slowing once they reach the train. Landing on top of one of the cars, he finally relaxes somewhat, the strain of flying for so long making his muscles tie themselves in knots. With one more glance to the rolling storm clouds coming ever nearer, he peaks inside the hatch. Upon seeing the car is filled with straw, he puts aside his reservations for now and climbs inside, tugging the hatch closed behind him. The car is dimly lit by slivers of moonlight coming through the open slots along the wall, enough so that Tamaki can settle down without having to move blindly.
"Wow! This is perfect!" Nejire walks in a circle before plopping down and rolling belly up to stretch her legs into the air. Tamaki barely acknowledges her, instead digging through his bag to find the cassettes he tucked away in there. It's just barely lit enough that if he squints, he can make out his mother's scrawl along the side of the cassette. Sleep tight child. It's then that the cassettes make sense. Hurriedly he fiddles with the radio, changing the settings and sticking in the cassette.
As soon as it starts playing, his mother's lilting voice fills the train car, a soothing recording of a lullaby she sung to him whenever the panic and nightmares got to him too badly as a child. Finally, finally, the events of the day set in, and the exhaustion cloaks him. His mother's sweet singing makes his eyes burn, and before he knows it, his sight is blurred by big fat tears that well up and slide down his cheeks. Curling down into the straw, clutching the radio to his chest, he lays there trembling and wracked with sobs as he lets it all out. At some point Nejire pads over, curling up near his head and starts grooming his hair, her kneading and licking mixed with his mother's song eventually lulling him into an exhausted sleep that lasts till the morning.
Tamaki wakes in a panic, jerking upright. The train rumbles as it speeds along, having started moving sometime in the night. The slots along the wall cast moving slivers of light across the small space, bright morning light telling him the time. His frantic movement startles Nejire awake, who bounces up with a worried yowl. Only his pants and the rattling of the train fill the air, the cassette having long ended sometime whilst he slept.
He swallows, throat itchy, and grabs around for his bag. Once he gets a hold on it, he stuffs the radio inside and goes about picking straw out of his hair and clothes, Nejire following his lead and grooming herself. They get themselves ready in silence, the weight of last night hanging heavy over them both. Tamaki digs a water bottle out of his bag and downs half the contents. He can feel the familiar dehydration from crying making his throat cry out in pain and his head pound in a steady staccato.
When they finally find themselves ready to face the terrifying outside world once more, Tamaki slings his bag over one shoulder, Nejire perched on his other shoulder, and tugs the roof hatch open once more. Grabbing his broom he stands up to peek out at their surroundings, quickly shocked by the sight.
The train speeds parallel to a seemingly never ending ocean, the morning light glittering off the water. It must've been running long enough as they slept for them to reach the southern coast. The sight steals the breath from his lungs and he finds himself frozen, staring wide-eyed as Nejire chatters something in his ear. In the end, it's the caw of seagulls that pulls him from his awe-struck haze.
"--that city over there! It looks perfect!" Nejire's words finally register in his mind, and he turns to look towards where the train is headed. A huge city stands huddled up against the coast, the light glinting off the rooftops and giving the whole scene that slow, hazy dream-like feeling. A tall clock tower stands up out of the center, its giant face seeming small with the distance. The city around it seems to stretch on, massive and beautiful in its old architecture and white stone walls. Yuuei, his mind supplies, the largest port on the southern coast. Tamaki feels small in comparison, but the wonder and awe wins over the anxiety and has him nodding to Nejire. She responds with an excited cry, tail lashing along his back.
Lifting himself out of the hatch, he tugs it back closed and mounts his broom, taking off into the sky to get a better look. Quickly shooting up into the sky before slowing to a halt midair, Tamaki stares out over the world. The water stretches as far as the eye can see, a perfect cerulean blue meeting the pastel colored sky at the horizon. Everything around them seems to glitter and shine like a mirage, making the world around them feel more magical than his little hometown of old stone and wooden cabins.
"This… Nejire look at the ocean!" He can't hold back the awe that seeps into his voice, unable to tear his eyes away. He can't remember the last time he felt this excited for something, especially not something so unfamiliar. Its invigorating, and he wonders if this is how Nejire feels about the world all the time, and it makes him understand exactly why she was so excited to leave home. If the whole world were this beautiful, he'd never stop traveling, no matter how anxious it made him.
"Tamaki, let's stay here! I wonder if the city has a witch or not? They probably do, I mean, who wouldn't wanna live here? We can go check though, I really wanna stay here and--" Nejire's voice fades to the back of his mind, her endless jabber turning into white noise with the distant rattling of the train and cawing of seagulls.
It's beautiful, and nothing but his mother's singing has ever made him feel this at peace.