Chiro Dreamed

He didn't have much in the way of hobbies, aside from his modest Sun Riders collection, and he usually got his homework done by sticking around the school library for a few hours after classes. So when he got home, he'd put his lanyard-clad latchkey on his nightstand and plop himself down on his bed.

And Chiro would simply daydream.

There was never any rhyme or reason to the adventures he chose to have in his head. One day, he'd dream of being an astronaut. The next, he'd dream of inventing a new arcade game. The only thread all of Chiro's daydreams shared was not taking place anywhere near his house, and sure as his hair being messy, a wanderlust would stir in him before too long, and he'd always insist to his worried mother upon returning that he hadn't originally intended to leave the house and go exploring.

Today's daydream was a rather simple one for the boy, and yet one more likely to cause trouble than others. Today, all he wanted to do was explore some place he hadn't before.

And, he quickly realized, he knew just the place.

The outskirts.


A/N: I spent some of my childhood as a latchkey kid, so this one was fun to write as I got to play with that. There's a strange mix of loneliness and freedom when you come home to an empty house. My only hope is that I still managed to channel Chiro's unique character.