April 21 / 15:00 [classroom]

Homeroom just ended. My classmates asked me to join them in their ball game, but I turned them down.

Yukiteru Amano, 8 years old. One of many ordinary schoolchildren in Sakurami City, with a quirky habit of making entries in a diary on his mobile phone within 10 minute intervals. Shy and withdrawn, only really interacts with others around him when absolutely necessary.

April 21 / 15:45 [home]

Just got home from school, said hi to my parents' photos just before going up the stairs and into my room. I should probably get started on my homework now.

His mobile phone, a gift from his parents working abroad, was one of his most prized possessions. While his family was relatively well-off, Yukiteru had never been raised to be materialistic. To him, even something like this was something to truly cherish. It was partly out of necessity, anyway. While his phone was only an entry-level model, at least he now had a way of communicating with his parents.

And besides that, he'd made a hobby out of using it as a diary as well.

April 21 / 18:00 [home]

Just woke up from my nap, my phone rang. 5 missed calls - 2 from Dad, 3 from Mom.

April 21 / 18:30 [home]

My parents were asked to work abroad for the next 6 years, so they're sending me off to live with my uncle on my mother's side: Piero Auditore, some Italian businessman. Apparently, he's on his way here now. Wonder what he's like.

As he made that entry, Yukiteru remembered his mom was half-Italian, half-Japanese, and that her younger twin brothers - Piero and Lorenzo Auditore - had inherited some huge corporation from their godfather. It wasn't something he'd ever given much thought before, but then again, her name - Rea - wasn't exactly common in Japanese society. It also explained his eye color; after all, blue eyes were rather unusual among Asian children.

April 21 / 18:52 [home]

The doorbell rang just now. I'll get it.

Which he did.

"Good evening, Yuki-kun."

Standing there at their doorstep was a tall, rugged-looking Italian male, wearing a black bonnet and matching rose-tinted shades. Yukiteru's first impression was that he sure didn't look like a businessman, but then, as his mother had stressed repeatedly to him, looks could be deceiving.

"My goodness, you've grown," said Piero, smiling kindly as he patted his nephew on the head.

The next 6 years of Yukiteru Amano's life would be anything but boring.