The gritty air was rough on Kaho's throat. She stared up at the vast, murky yellow sky where ravens circled in swaths like a school of frenzied fish. The storms never seemed to cease. An air pollution alert swept the area as she remained transfixed but soon coughed into a tissue, another black phlegm crater carving itself into the paper. She grimaced and wiped her mouth on her palm. The streets were vacant, few dared come out of their shelters. But this used to be her home – the canal where she used to sit with her loved ones had been drained long ago by the rich and influential. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and coughed again. 

Her tonsils felt like they'd been submerged in acid, the searing pain from each wheezy, labored cough coursed through her. Her eyes stung, water trickling down her cheeks behind her visor. What was the point of this anymore? Each time she dared go out it was more miserable than the last. Her bloated, empty stomach churned, hunger pangs leaving her hunched over, her bare neck exposed to the heat. It was blistering, she could feel it. 

The heat bore down from the angry yellow sky, making her itch, she reached to the exposed skin of the nape of her neck and felt the small prickling spots coming to the surface. Her nails raked across the sore skin. She winced, feeling the 'fresh' air on her skin, she'd raked it raw again, and left a new layer of skin exposed. Kaho groaned, leaning on the crumbling wall of what had once been the local dojo, where the elderly once learned self-defence. She was wheezing again. She should go inside; peel open the sliding doors of the dojo and wait to rot away like the rest of the world. 

New blisters prickled her forearms as her puckered veiny fingers scratched scabs and sores. A lone rickety jeep, on lopsided ill-fitted wheels, upturned dust and ash under their tracks. A woman shouted into a megaphone, but Kaho couldn't hear her. The few clouds overhead knitted together, darkening. A pit formed in her stomach as she gazed up at the clouds. When was the last time she had been able to appreciate the rain? 

A siren wailed overhead, muffled by the wind that seemed to call her name...

"Kaaaahooooo!" a woman's voice sang. 

Kaho yawned into her fist; her skin unmarred from whatever had been happening in her mind. She stretched, her hands grasping for her alarm clock to silence it, only to hear her mother call her again. 

"I'm awake!" she shouted back. 

"Good! Don't want to be late on your first day of school!" Kaho's mother replied, "Your lunch is all ready for you, lovely girl." 

Kaho sighed, flopping back against her pillows. Trust her mother to wake up in the middle of the night and make bento boxes for her kids. Kaho would be surprised if her older brother, Taiga, who was probably already out on a run, hadn't also been subject to tiny hotdogs cut to look like squid, pineapple slices and rice balls for his first day of work, his first day of a new job. 

Kaho stretched her legs, but the blanket didn't move with her. Her duvet felt heavy, like it was being weighed down. She sat up, taking her phone from her nightstand and looked over her quilt and saw the guilty shape of one of her cats. 

It was Tama. She was curled up in a ball by her knees, her little pink nose twitching as she dreamed. She snapped a picture of the snoozing cat and sent it with a good morning text to her boyfriend, Tatsuya. Tatsuya had already sent her a good morning text, along with a photo of his neighbour's cat, prowling outside his house. Jinenji was a little monster, always scrounging for extra food and cuddles, but Tatsuya loved the little black ball of fur, even if he wouldn't admit it. 

'Love' wasn't a word Tatsuya used, but she knew he felt it. 

He replied to her photo of Tama with a heart-eyes emoji and Kaho squealed. She picked her cat up, waking her up. She scrabbled against her pyjamas, limbs flailing as she rocked her, cooing, peppering her little ginger head with kisses. 

"Tatsuya loves you Tama!" she sang.

Tama leapt from her arms and strode from the room, tail erect as she stomped out. 

With Tama firmly exiled from the quilt, Kaho made her bed. She crossed her room and moved her art supplies out of harm's way. She'd been working with watercolours yesterday and although the canvas was lacking a detailed scene, there were plenty of colours bleeding into one another. A base layer, for her to sketch onto. She went to her desk and put her drawing tablet on charge. She'd fallen asleep halfway through a sketch. Again. Someone, probably Taiga, had moved it off her quilt, so she didn't crush it, or crack it, in her sleep. 

She would have to thank him later, she supposed, stretching her arms over her head and proceeding to warm up her sleep-addled muscles, another part of her life she'd adopted from her older brother. She'd always copied his morning stretches from when he was still a competing athlete. She was almost done when her mum called back up to her. 

"Kaho, can you jump in the shower now, please? I need to run water in a few!" her mum called. 

"Yes mum!" 

She could hear her little sister, Himiko pottering about downstairs, she pranced in the kitchen, rattling the walls like a bull in a China shop. She skipped, singing about the first day of school, and playing with her friends. She warbled about looking forward to lunch, listing an exquisite banquet of theoretical meals she could be having, fresh brioche with red bean paste, animal crackers but only the lions, a whole mango, and a papaya, rice balls filled with rich beef, and four different candies. She wanted a bottle of 'Ramune', and a bright blue can of American soda, 'Fanta', and she wanted 'Twinkies'. 

Kaho had already gone into the bathroom, and even over the steaming water, and her own humming as she shaved her legs, making sure she hadn't missed a spot yesterday, especially in her knee ditch, she could hear Himeko talking about fillet mignon and chocolate cannoli's and dauphinoise potatoes. Himeko really was a fiend for food. Even as she left the bathroom, her sister was still nattering about food. That much Kaho could hear, but her sister was always looking forward to her next meal. She wondered if her mum had made a special bento for the first day back, just to make Himiko smile, though she doubted there would be a glass bottle of 'Ramune' or a fillet mignon in there, maybe some rice balls and tempura prawns. 

Kaho's stomach rumbled. She smiled. While Himiko looked just like their father, and Kaho took after their mum, the pair of them knew the way to their hearts were through their stomachs. A trait they shared with their older brother, Taiga, and their father. 

Kaho dressed in her school uniform and dried her hair, absentmindedly checking her texts for anything else from Tatsuya. She frowned, pursing her lips. Nothing. No 'I hope you have a good day' text, nothing about her first day of school at all. She sent one, a prompt, telling him to send one back. Passive aggressively, yes, but not in a whiney, desperate girlfriend way. 

Kaho's stomach growled again and she sighed, putting on her slippers and making her way downstairs, calling for her cats. There was no sign of Rana but that wasn't uncommon. While Tama loved the home comforts of scratches under her chin whenever she wanted, Rana loved roaming the neighbourhood, a regular neutered lothario. She found Tama on the small balcony on the second floor, sitting on the edge of the railings, sunning herself as the day broke over the roofs of nearby homes. 

She let out an involuntary yelp and snatched the cat from the edge. She scolded her cat and put her down on the patio. Tama purred, brushing her cheek against Kaho's leg before darting back into the room. Kaho glanced over the railings of the patio and sighed. There was something about the sun, this view, the way the daylight gently caressed her street each morning that just made her insides bubble up and fizz with anticipation. Whether Tatsuya had sent her a good luck text, or not, she knew today was going to be good. She stretched again, her fingers splayed outward as if she could brush the sun's hands with her own. She made a fist and put it to her chest. She didn't have time to bask in the sunlight. Not today. 

"Who left the patio door open? Tama could have fallen!" Kaho said, scuttling down the stairs. She shook a box of treats, summoning Tama to her side. She ate a treat from her palm. 

"Oh Kaho, sweet," her mum said, giving her a quick squeeze, "It'll have been Taiga, before he went on his run. He was doing his workout out there. You know what boys are like." 

Kaho scowled, Taiga wasn't a boy. He was her stupid brother, but he was also in his twenties and had no excuse. She crossed her arms, "I'll feed Tama and Rana, let me just fetch him." 

Her mum nodded, "Okay, love." 

Kaho was on her way out of the door, but, beside the house was a box wrapped in brown packing tape, her name carefully printed on the label. She stopped in her tracks and picked it up. 

"Mum? Did you order something for me?" Kaho asked. 

"No? Maybe it's from your father."

Kaho nodded to herself and picked up the box. It was small, maybe the size of a shoebox, and rattled with every step, like it was full of something. She hoped it hadn't been something fragile, a gift from her father who was working overseas. Her mother handed her a pair of scissors, allowing Kaho to gracefully tear through the tape and brown paper that covered the shoebox. It was a box for 'Jordans', but Kaho doubted her father had sent her shoes – Taiga, yes, but not her. 

She opened the lid and frowned; inside was an assortment of black envelopes neatly arranged inside, in the centre of each was a unique imprinted symbol of a red heart. It looked like a sticker. Individual envelopes, addressed to Kaho, each dated in the top right corner where the stamp ought to be. 

"It's a bunch of letters," Kaho said.

Her mother glanced over Kaho's shoulder, a sense of wonder crossing her face.

"I wonder who they could be from, could it be from Uncle Ginza?" she pondered aloud, her gaze lingering on the stack of letters. "Oh! Check if it says America maybe it is your father, sending letters to tell you something. You know how your father doesn't like all that data tracking stuff? He's a proper tin foil hatter."

"Anything for me?" Himiko asked, "From Dad?"

"Nope, just for me," Kaho replied, taking the stairs two at a time. She stuffed the box in the foot of her wardrobe, away from her cats and their pesky claws, stuffing the first one, with today's date etched on it, in her blazer. 

"Was it from Dad?" Himiko asked. 

Kaho shook her head. She doubted it, but she didn't want to let Himiko down, she didn't want her thinking that he hadn't sent his youngest daughter something. 

"Something from Tatsuya?" Mum asked, offering Kaho an out. 

"Yes! Love letters. Mushy gushy boyfriend stuff!" Kaho lied, grabbing some treats and calling out for Rana. 

She listened for the tinkle of the bell she'd fastened around her cat's collar. Since Tama was very much an indoor cat, she didn't wear one, but Rana liked to wander the area, so he had a little bell on his bright blue collar. She listened, straining to hear Rana. There was a bell trilling, to the right of her house, where she then saw one of the neighbours, Tamaki, cycling past. He had a few papers left to deliver, including hers. Instead of launching it at the doorstep without looking, like usual, he hollered out for her to duck. 

When she rightened herself, he pointed to the end of the road, "Your stupid cat is down by the crossing. You should put a tracker on him, he could get hit by a car." 

Kaho scowled at Tamaki but went the way he had come from to retrieve Rana. Like Tamaki had said, her cat was sitting at the end of the street by the traffic lights, as if he was waiting for the green light to signal he could cross the street. Kaho cooed, crouching down, and admiring her brazen cat, who licked his paws under the red man traffic signal. 

Behind her, unbeknownst to Kaho, was Tama, who had bounded after her, having been released by Himiko retrieving the newspaper. She pranced down the street, after Kaho, ready to pounce and play with Rana. She bounded over to her feline sibling and jumped over his head, landing in the road. 

Kaho made an inhuman sound, reaching to grab Tama and whisk her away from incoming cars. The pedestrian crossing was green but that didn't mean people always stopped, especially cyclists and delinquents. Tama skittered off the road, just as a cramp seized Kaho's foot. She yelped, stumbling over, sending her cats running away as she went, head first toward the tarmac. 

But she didn't hit the road. Someone had grabbed her wrist. From the ferocity of the grip she assumed it was her mother, or Taiga on his way home from his run. But it wasn't either of them. It was a boy, with brown eyes like molten bronze, and sharp cheekbones. His dark curly hair was mostly concealed beneath a motorcycle helmet, a jacket concealing his shirt. He was beautiful – like he'd been pulled straight from a magazine. He yanked her out of his way, an impatient cyclist overtaking him as he pulled her away from danger. 

Kaho's eyes were wide. She gawked at the stranger.

"Oi! Watch where you're going, will you?" he demanded, brows knitted together in fury. 

Kaho looked over at him, eyes wide, welling with shocked, startled tears. 

"You…" he said quietly. 

"You could have gotten yourself killed! What were you thinking?" he demanded 

 Kaho was taken aback by his tone.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," she stammered.

"It's a good thing that I was passing when I was," he said, scowling, letting her go and kicking off the floor, his bike engine revving as he took off. 

 "And you're ru-," Kaho said. He might have looked like a model, but he certainly didn't seem to be a model citizen. She stomped her foot on the pavement, watching the cars pass her by. The boy was long gone. 

Kaho's eyes stung with unshed tears. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. She bit her lip. Stupid cats. Maybe stupid Tamaki was right. Stupid smug Tamaki with his stupid smug face. She dug her nails into her palms and made her way home. 

Both Rana and Tama were happily munching on their breakfast when Kaho came back inside. Her mum raised an eyebrow at her. 

"You okay?" 

Kaho's breath hitched. She nodded, stubbornly clamping her eyes closed, "Just a bit shocked. I tripped at the crossing. I'm fine." 

Kaho brushed past her mother and made herself a glass of water, knocking it back, uncaring how a stray bead of water trickled down her chin. She took a few shaky breaths and clapped her hands together. 

"Right!" she said, "Today is going to be a great day." 

Maybe if she said it enough times she would believe it, because after that incident at the crossing, and the ire of Stupid Tamaki, Kaho wasn't sure it was going to be a great day after all…