Welcome to Heaven | ✓

21: Rice Crackers

The rest of the books were, in fact, as dry as the first one.

Making my way inside the living room, I undid my scrunchy, allowing my hair to flow onto my shoulders and back. My other hand tightly gripped the one of the books Koyuki had assigned for me to read, but although I'd spent the last half hour trying to do just that, I'd made minimal progress. It was extremely hard to process without a teacher.

The TV was on, illuminating the darkness in the room. Somehow, I wasn't surprised to spot Sota plopped on the floor before it, chewing softly on some rice crackers my mom had purchased last week.

I fell under the adjacent kotatsu. As soon as I did, Sota twisted his small body my way. His cheeks were chubby from eating, but that didn't stop him from shouting, "You dun' stink today!"

My mouth fell in momentary disbelief.

He had a reasonable excuse for voicing that. I did fill our house with smoke at least every other day for months. Still...

"Sota, I love your chubby cheeks but you better not move them again. I don't enjoy being mocked."

He returned his gaze to the TV, taking another bite and filling his cheeks further. "But is' true."

I rolled my eyes, settling my own gaze onto the screen. There were bright lights—a stage. And standing right in the middle was a girl, bright pink dress and cashmere tights on, and an equally glittering microphone clasped in hand. She sang powerfully, hitting every note and dance move with the brightest smile on her face.

My heart dropped in my chest.

Frantically, I patted the laminate floor surrounding me. "Who put this on for you?"

"Mommy."

Of course she decided now would be the perfect time for throwback videos when I was busy dying whilst reading up on baking.

"Where's the remote?" I asked once I couldn't find it. I travelled over to his end and saw it was clenched in his free hand. "Turn it off."

Leaving the rice cracker behind him, he hopped off the floor and scurried across the room. "But Koto is incredible!"

"Sota," I warned, inching forward.

He turned up the volume, and the song that played grew in volumes behind my ear. What caught me off guard, however, was Sota swaying his petite body to the music. I snorted at once because, as a four-year-old, the only dancing he really knew was how to move his hips.

I guffawed. "What are you doing?"

He looked up at me with round, curious eyes. "Dancing?"

Sighing, I joined his side and scooped his small hand into mine. I spared the TV a glance. More specifically, the other two girls and I currently singing and dancing together in perfect harmony.

"Move your small body like this," I directed, kicking out my feet and swaying my hips to the music.

Giggling, Sota followed in suit. As the singing prolonged, I found my lips subconsciously moving along. I laughed at the nostalgia hitting me hard.