A teenage boy sat at the window, his chin resting on his hand. He gazed at the clouds floating past the bullet train window. A sigh escaped his throat, unheard by the other passengers. For them, it was not unusual for someone like him to be taking a quick trip to the city. After all, Tokyo-3 was the cultural center of the region. But he had his own thoughts. He alone knew that he was not just another kid visiting some far-off relatives. He alone knew his significance. He would soon be a celebrity, although he was now looked down upon as only a child. But he was content. He was glad for his privacy, for the chance to simply think.
He did not need fame. In fact, the fourth child dreaded it.