March 21, 2016
At Osaka prefecture, Japan
The sound of Takashi's father whistling filled the air as he made his way downstairs. It was a Saturday morning, and the family was preparing for their weekly tradition of making pancakes together. As Takashi, still half-asleep, made his way to the kitchen, he couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity and comfort wash over him. His father, ever the jovial one, was already at the stove, the sizzling sound of the frying pan filling the air.
"Takashi! Wake up, sleepyhead!"
His father's voice snapped him back to reality.
"Uh, yeah... I'm up," he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Come on, Takashi, you're gonna miss breakfast," his father teased, still with that infectious smile.
Rubbing his eyes, Takashi groaned. "Dad, it was the dream again, the same one...with the piano keys."
His father's expression softened as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"The same one, huh? You know, dreams can't hurt you. They're just your brain's way of trying to figure things out."
"But it feels...real?," Takashi murmured, the image of the distorted playground still vivid in his mind.
"Maybe you're just thinking about your piano recital coming up. You know, stress can turn into weird dreams,"
his father suggested, tugging gently at Takashi's hair.
Takashi considered this. "Maybe... It just makes me not want to sleep."
"Well, how about this," his father proposed, his tone lightening,
"you help me make pancakes, and we'll see if we can cook those weird dreams away. Deal?"
Smiling slightly, Takashi nodded and climbed out of bed. "Deal."
As they made their way to the kitchen, the sound of his mother humming along to the radio filled the air, blending with the sizzle of the frying pan. The normalcy of the morning routine eased some of Takashi's unease, grounding him in the present.
"Alright, chief, can you pass me the flour?" his father asked, as he readied the ingredients.
Takashi reached for the flour bag and handed it over.
"Dad, do dreams mean something? Like, really mean something?"
His father paused, measuring out the flour.
"Sometimes they do. Sometimes they're just dreams. But I think what's important is what you do when you're awake, not what happens when you're asleep."
Takashi pondered his father's words, mixing the batter as instructed. The rhythmic stirring helped steady his thoughts.
"Thanks, Dad," he said after a moment, feeling a bit more reassured.
"No problem, buddy. Now, let's make these pancakes fluffy. You remember the secret?"
Takashi nodded. "Whisk it fast, but not too long."
"That's my boy."
Breakfast was a cheerful affair, filled with light banter and the clinking of cutlery. Takashi ate his pancakes, topped with a mountain of syrup and a sprinkle of sliced strawberries, feeling the morning's tension slowly dissolve.
As he helped clear the table, his mother noticed his quieter demeanor. "You okay, Taka?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired,"
Takashi replied, forcing a smile.
His mother nodded, giving him a knowing look but didn't press further. Takashi appreciated that; sometimes, he just needed to work through things in his own way.
With breakfast over, Takashi decided to spend some time at the piano. As his fingers danced over the keys, he tried to channel his uneasy feelings into the music, turning dissonance into harmony. The notes filled the room, echoing softly against the walls, as if in answer to his unspoken questions.
Outside, the world continued on, unaware of the small boy and his battle with the echoes of his dreams. But inside, with each note he played, Takashi felt a little stronger, a little more in tune with himself.
The whole experience was sort of like making pancakes
some time later
After his morning at the piano, Takashi felt way more chill, like the shadows from his dream had just vanished into the distance. He grabbed his backpack, kinda rushed out the door. His hair was all over the place from running out the house, and his backpack was all wonky on his shoulder as he tried to get it straight while jogging down the stairs.
On his way to school, he collided with this guy who was walking up the path. The dude was maybe like 23, dressed nice but casual, looking real confident until they bumped into each other. Takashi immediately dropped into this big, sorry-bow, his head all the way down and his voice as he says,
"I'm so sorry! I didn't see you."
Takashi was all red in the face too , like a tomato.
The guy looked at him funny, his eyes all narrow and his face all serious. Then he straightened up and was all,
"Well, watch where you're going next time." His voice was kinda harsh, but not like he was being mean. It was just firm,
Takashi nodded a bunch, still bowing down.
"Yeah, for sure. Sorry again!"
He hurried off, not wanting to make it worse. The whole thing made his heart race, not from fear or anything, but just from how random it was.
On his way to school, he kept thinking about the dude, wondering if he was a student or just some random guy. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else going on, like there was more to him than met the eye. The rest of the walk was cool, but he couldn't stop thinking about that moment, you know?
When he got to school, he just tried to focus on class and hanging out with his friends, not letting the weird encounter get to him too much. But deep down, he knew that the dude was probably just the beginning of a long line of surprises waiting for him in the world outside of his house
As Takashi was making his way to the classroom, he could hear his teacher's voice coming from inside, which made him realize that the lesson had already started. He paused for a moment to catch his breath and straighten up his messy appearance, then quietly opened the door and sneaked inside.
When he glanced at Ms. Hoshino, she was standing in front of the room, talking to Naoki, who was sitting at a desk overflowing with untouched books and papers.
"Naoki, this has got to stop. You can't keep ignoring your assignments. You need to understand how important it is to keep up with your work."
Naoki was squirming uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes darting around the room, searching for an escape from Ms. Hoshino's disapproving gaze. Just as Ms. Hoshino was about to continue, Takashi's entrance caused everyone to turn their attention to him.
"Sorry I'm late, Ms. Hoshino!" Takashi panted, his voice echoing through the suddenly quiet room.
Ms. Hoshino glanced at him, a mix of irritation and relief on her face.
"Takashi, this isn't like you. What's the reason for your tardiness today?"
Takashi stood by the door, trying to regain his composure. "I... uh, ran into someone outside and lost track of time. I'm really sorry."
Naoki sighed loudly from her desk, visibly relieved that the spotlight had shifted away from her.
"Well, try to be more mindful of the time, Takashi. Now, take your seat. We're going over fractions today, and I need everyone's full attention," Ms. Hoshino said, her tone firm but still kind.
Takashi quickly nodded and made his way over to his desk, feeling the weight of everyone's stares on him as they turned back to the lesson at hand. As he sat down, Naoki leaned over and whispered,
"Thanks for the save."
Takashi gave her a small smile in return, his heart still racing from the rush to school and the sudden attention.
"No problem," he whispered back.
Ms. Hoshino resumed her lecture, chalk scratching against the blackboard as she explained how to break down complex fractions. The classroom gradually settled down, with students furiously scribbling down notes and the earlier tension fading into the background noise of a typical school day.