The girl behind her smile

- 30 -

The easter holidays had rolled by, and summer was starting to settle in. The days were getting warmer, and longer, as was the time I was spending with Jasper.

I discovered more about him and his home back in America. I had come to learn about the distasteful relationship Jasper shared with his father, and how it affected him. Knowing his history and how he was raised, answered most of my questions about his character. Why he's so closed off and careless about others feelings, he hadn't been taught otherwise.

In America, his wealth and riches speak for him, he doesn't need to demand the attention he deserves in every room he enters, there are people constantly doting on him, as much as there are taking advantage of his prestige.

Despite all of his stories on how his life was a year ago, he seems to be someone completely different from his descriptions. He's matured emotionally, and that I can attest for.

I wasn't sure if my relationship with Jasper would affect my friendship with Zayn, given their strained relation. However, his clear avoidance of me at school seemed to make me think otherwise. But I guess at the end of the day they are family, and will be with each other for the foreseeable future, regardless of me in their lives. 

I sneeze as another flair of dust lifts into the air.

Me, Ezra and Elijah, had been handed with the task to clean the loft out, we had lots of old items there, that could be donated or simply thrown away.

I wipe the top of the box once more, turning my head, trying not to make same mistakes of facing the dust as it's lifted off. A line of Japanese writing lines the top, and the sides. 

"Hey, Eli," I grab his attention from the other side, "Can you read this? It's written in Japanese."

"I haven't read Japanese in so long, Izzy." He groans, dropping the parcel that was in his hands to the ground as he stands up.

"I know, but you've got the best shot at this." 

He shuffles next to me, crouching down to get better access the box. He sounds out a few characters, frowning as he attempts to decode them. Ezra also leaves his position, to join on my other side, also staring intently at the Japanese writing.

"Fu- furui... Om-Omoi... Omoide?" His voice rises an octave as he finished his sentence, "I think it says, old... memories?"

I hum, as I use the blade to cute seamlessly through the tape. The folds of the box give way easily, and I frown slightly as I see an stack of pictures and other miscellaneous items coated in a fine layer of dust. I pull out the photos, sneezing once more.

"Why is this in the loft?" I voice my thoughts, "Our other albums are downstairs."

Elijah shrugs as I take out the first image, the only one of the bunch that was in black and white.

There was a couple, with a young boy and girl, standing side by side, in traditional outfits. The hair of the mother was in some high updo, not a stray hair falling to the front of her face. She was stood with elegance and poise, a grim look adorning her face.

 The boy was taller than the girl, his cheeks were tinted, and his hair cut short, he seemed as though he was around the age of ten. A firm look was also planted on his features, his lips set in a straight line.

The younger girl was dressed in a similar version of her mothers kimono, a small smile spread on her face. In her hand, she holds a fan, just small enough for her fingers to curl around the handle.

The father was wearing a black yukata, his eyes hard, and jaw clenched. His stare into the camera was piercing, and very much formal. There were deep lines in his forehead and lighter shades at the front of his hair where the greying was evident.