"I, don't quite remember this memory," he watched a scene on the beach, flying a kite high in the sea breeze while people built sandcastles, took a dip in the sea or were on their phones while munching on snacks.
"You mean, this isn't your memory?"
Jotou chuckled, "Well, it is. I just forgot about it." The memory panned over to behind, distant voices calling over. Pulling the kite along, the memory made a dash for the snacks and the people calling over.
"Who are they?"
"My family," Jotou uttered with a drop of his mood. "I remember this. It was a beach trip with my cousins, aunt and uncle and all. Must've been when I was, nine or ten?"
"No wonder our view's so short! Is this how Meko sees things?"
Jotou snickered. "Speaking of small." The memory shifted and changed.
"Ow!" a little Daiyu fell off her bike and scraped her knee.
"Oh no, are you hurt? Come on, let's go to my house," Jotou aided her up.
