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Summary
Takashi Shirogane is six, and he loves the stars.
He loves the way they turn dark night bright, and loves the pictures he can see in them when he connects their different pinpoints.
He loves that, no matter what, he knows that somewhere up in the big open sky, there’s a point of light to try and get to.
Shiro loves them so much, that he has their glow-in-the-dark counterparts plastered against his ceiling in his own nonsensical patterns that came together in his very own constellations. This way, when he couldn’t see the real deal, he could always find some solace in laying in his rocket ship bed and staring up at his own personal sky.
One day, he always tells his grandpa in the same way all kids do, with their voices filled with wander and the promise of a future, I’m going to be up there.
His grandfather, like always, pulls him close for a hug, wrapping him within his protective warmth and nodding against Shiro’s hair in the same way any doting grandparent would. With unequivocal love and support.
Yes, Takashi, his grandpa always says. You will.