hello mr. sunshine
She peels oranges on winter mornings. Sharp, white light streams into the room and runs down her wrists as she digs her fingers into the fruit. Citrus juice drips from her fingers, diamond droplets shining in the light of day.
The steam of his tea obscures her figure as he takes a sip and he puts an effort into feeling alive again after a long night. When she is around he puts in the effort, for her, and her alone.
"Nii-san, are you awake?" Sugi asks.
"Not yet."
Tachibana takes a moment to savor the bitter flavor of green tea. He closes his eyes. In the darkness behind his eyelids, he finds the light of morning sneaking farther across the kitchen table, into the room, farther and farther into his mind. Today the cold of the moment is acute, the light is cutting. Sugi's knuckles have been dusted with a delicate pink as her pale hands work to open the orange, slice by slice it unfolds under her hands.
"What have you seen?" He says.
"I see you and me. I see us walking to school."
"That's a good vision. Today will be a good day."
He curls his fingers around his mug in hopes of leeching some warmth from the ceramic. Sugi is impervious to the cold; her night gown is a stark white cloud of cloth hanging from her bird-bone sharp shoulders. Her arms are bare and her fingers shine as she slips a slice of orange into her mouth.
She chews thoughtfully and then spits out the pip. Her lips are saliva wet and she wipes her mouth on her arm. Her arms shine with orange juice and spit.
So young, he thinks. My little sister is like the dawn, so new and bright.