Seventeen years ago…

Five-year-old Hanta pressed his face and hands against the window as he watched movers unload a moving truck down the street.

"Hanta, don't gawk like that, it's rude," his dad said.

"There are so many boxes," he gushed. "I bet like a bazillion people are moving in."

"Hanta, you're making the glass dirty," his mother scolded. "Get down, please."

He couldn't care less about what his parents were saying, because at that moment he saw Hanta saw a short little boy running around in the front yard.

"THERE'S A KID!" He exclaimed. He jumped up and down on his spider-man themed bed. "THERE'S A KID THERE'S A KID THERE'S A KID THERE'S A KID!"

"Hanta, stop yelling!" His mother scooped him up and carried him away from the window.

He immediately began crying and pounding his little fists on his mom's arms. "I WANNA PWAAAAY!" He sobbed as if he watched someone being murdered. For a five-year-old, this was the equivalent. Watching a little boy just his age having fun without him. "I WANNA PWAAAY!"

"I never said you couldn't, but we have to introduce ourselves first," His mother said. "So clean your face, get dressed, and have some breakfast."

He rushed through every process. He wetted his toothbrush under the sink to make his parents think he actually brushed his teeth. Then he quickly slipped into pants, which he accidentally put on backward, and rushed to put on a shirt that was inside out.

"You're a mess," Mr. Sero said with a sigh. "First impressions are very important, son. Always remember that."

Sero bounced up and down impatiently as his mother readjusted his pants, fixed his shirt, scrubbed his teeth, and handed him a granola bar to eat on his way outside.

His mother put on freshly ironed slacks, a flowy white blouse, and a light windbreaker before grabbing the tray of brownies she'd made to bring over. His father combed back his hair, straightened his tie, and shined up the ends of his shoes before following suit.

His father held Hanta's hand while they strolled down the sidewalk. He pulled against his dad, rushing ahead like an excited golden retriever with its leash. "Walk faster!"

"You're not walking, dear, you're running," his mother pointed out.

The entire journey from his house to the new neighbors' house took a child's eternity. About five minutes. Hanta's face was flushed by the time he finally made it. He'd exerted himself trying to pull his father forward.

A man with light gold hair was playing on a drum set in their garage. A woman with short violet-colored hair and glasses looked to be tuning some sort of string instrument on the front stoop.

"Hello, there!" His mother said. "We're the Seros, we live up the street."

The woman got up and waved. "Hi! I'm Mika. This is my husband, Kyotoku. We just moved here from Los Angeles."

"Oh wow, that's a ways from Happy Valley," Sero's father said with a chuckle. "What brings you here?"

"Well our little drumstick will be starting Kindergarten soon," Kyotoku answered.

Mrs. Sero beamed. "Ours too! This is Hanta."

Hanta finally freed himself and ran to Kyotoku and Mika. "I saw a kid in your yard."

His mother gasped. "Hanta! Introduce yourself!"

"Can I pway with - "

" - What? Of course!" Mika said with a laugh.

Hanta wasted no time bolting onto the grass and then slowly approaching his soon-to-be-new-friend.

Sero's father winced. "All that running around can't be good for the lawn," he muttered.

Kyotoku laughed. "Oh, we don't care about stuff like that. Let the kids have their fun."

Both of Sero's parents smiled awkwardly.

"What an…interesting philosophy." Mrs. Sero held out her dessert. "I brought these to welcome you to the neighborhood! I know fruitcake is traditional, but…who actually eats that dreadful stuff?"

Kyotoku's eyes lit up. He immediately jumped over his drum set and peeked under the foil, grabbing a chunk of brownie with his hand. "Far out."

"Oh, how thoughtful!" Mika praised. "Thank you so much!"

Her husband wiggled his eyebrows. "We'll have to make you our brownies sometime."

Mrs. Sero gasped excitedly. "Is it possible that you are brownie connoisseurs yourself?"

He smiled wide as he ate. "Mhm. Definitely."

Mr. Sero smiled back. "Yet you seem to be in great shape. You must be a sportsman. What do you play?"

He swallowed and then counted off on his fingers. "Oboe, Sitar, tambourine, six-string, bass guitar, drums, keyboard - "

" - Wow, you seem well-versed in the arts!" Mrs. Sero complimented. "But I think my husband meant athletic sports."

"Ohhhh!" Kyotoku said. "Yoga, Tai-Chi and Ayahuasca."

While Hanta's parents continued not having things in common with their new neighbors, he finally approached the kid. Up close, he could see he had black hair just like him, that was cut short. He also wore giant headphones on his head as he ran around.

It took a moment for Hanta to get the kid's attention. He jumped up and down and waved his arms.

Finally, the kid turned around. He took the headphones off and walked up to Hanta. "Hi."

"Hi. What are you playing?"

"A game my mom made up."

"How do you play?"

"I blast music, run around, and fall down when I'm tired."

"Whoa. What's it called?"

"Run until you're tired."

"Can I play?"

"Sure!"

The kid unplugged his headphones and placed the iPod touch in the grass so they could both hear the music. Then they proceeded to run in circles until they were tired, and fell down.

~.~

Hanta swung his legs back and forth as he stuffed mac n cheese in his face for dinner. His parents spoke in hushed voices to each other.

"Such a shame about the parents."

"That poor child."

"Honestly, contraceptives aren't that expensive if you know where to go."

"And they travel for work? How can they raise a kid properly when they're never home?"

"You can't raise a kid on the road," his father said. "That little drumstick is gonna have a lot of catching up to do once Kindergarten starts."

"I feel bad. Truly, I do."

When Hanta finally finished, he looked up at his parents. "Mom, Dad, can I pway again tomowow?"

Mrs. Sero gave a rueful smile. "That's a good idea, Hanta. Maybe you can set a good example."

Mr. Sero leaned down and grinned. "I have a playdate set up for you before school starts. How would you like to meet some other boys? They're starting Kindergarten too."

"You used to share the same playpen," Mrs. Sero said with a chuckle. "It was so long ago, you won't remember. But they're very nice boys."

"I grew up with their parents," Mr. Sero encouraged. "I'm sure you'll be friends too."

As tempting as that sounded, Hanta couldn't help staring out the window. "Can I play with them…and Jee-whoa too?"

"Sure, dear. But don't worry. Once you start school, you'll make much better friends."

~.~

Hanta played with Jiro the moment the sun came up, and only left when the sun began coming down. He started meeting Hanta halfway so he wouldn't have to walk the whole way by himself. They ran around in the front yard, played with his parents' instruments, and dug around in the dirt for only the coolest of things, like rocks and bugs.

One day, they dug a hole with their hands and filled it with smooth, pale stones they found.

"Hu-wee!" Jiro said. "Before the din-o-soh comes back!"

They always managed to put the "dragon eggs" back into their nest in the nick of time, which was around the same time Hanta's mother called for him to come home.

It wasn't all fun and games. They had their disagreements.

"Purple."

"Le-low."

"Purple."

"Le-low."

"PURPLE."

"LEEEELLOOOWWW!"

"PUUUURRRPLEEEE!"

"LEEEELLLOOOOWWWW!"

There were definitely embarrassing moments.

"Don't wook!"

"Why don't you sit down when you go pee-pee?"

"GO AWAY!"

"You're getting it ev-wee where."

"I CAN'T DO IT WHEN YOU'RE WATCHING!"

"Just pwee-tend I'm not hee-yuh."

"I CAN'T!"

"Why does it look like a worm?"

"IT DOESN'T!"

And there were times when they got in trouble.

"HANTA! YOU GOT YOUR NEW SHORTS ALL DIRTY!"

"The rocks in your pockets broke the washing machine!"

"Who tracked all this mud into the house?!"

"I don't feel so good. I think I ate twoo many bwownies…"

"NO NO NO NOT ON THE CARPET!"

"JEE-WHOA POKED MY EYE WITH A STICK!"

"You needed to be bwind so we could be pi-wates."

But after spending the entire summer playing together, they became inseparable. Which was why when Hanta heard whistling outside, he knew it was Jiro. He got out of bed and pushed the window up. "Jee-whoa?"

He stood below, sniffling and wiping his face. "I had a night-mayuh."

"Where's your mommy and daddy?"

"T-Toh-wuh," Jiro answered. "I'm awone."

Hanta went to his closet and pulled out a huge rope he'd made by tying towels together. Then he thrust it over the window sill, holding on to the other end. "Cwimb!"

Jiro weighed a lot less than he did, so it wasn't hard to hold on while he climbed up the rope. Once his friend made it inside, he closed the window and put the rope back in his closet. "How wong until your mommy and daddy come home?"

"I don't know."

"Wanna stay he-yuh?"

"Won't you get in twouble?"

"I don't think so. Mommy and Daddy have sweep overs all the time."

"Okay."

Hanta hadn't exactly figured out sleeping arrangements before Jiro climbed up the rope, and he wasn't sure what the standard procedure was for sleepovers, since he's never had one before.

Jiro pointed. "I'll sweep on this side, and you sweep on that side."

They both got into bed, laying horizontal. Hanta put his pillow in the middle so they could share each corner.

Jiro still had a hard time sleeping.

"Are you sweeping?" Hanta asked.

"No. Are you?"

"No."

"The pew-whoa is hot."

They both flipped it so it would be cool again.

"What was your bad dweam about?" Hanta asked.

Jiro started to cry. "My mommy and daddy weft and they never came back. Then I twied to find you and you wewe gone too."

"I'm not gwone," Hanta said. He waved. "See?"

Jiro smiled and wiped her face. "Don't tell my mommy and daddy. I pwomised to be tough. I said I'd be like a gwown-up."

"I won't tell."

Jiro yawned and closed his eyes.

"Sweep, Jee-whoa."

"What if I have anuvuh nightmayuh?"

"I'll make it disappeaw."

"How?"

"I'll caw it names until it goes away."

"Okay."

~.~

Jiro would climb up into Hanta's bedroom every day for the next week. But one night, she didn't. Hanta waited at the window sill, watching patiently. But he never heard the whistle, or saw her coming down the sidewalk like usual.

Hanta tiptoed past his parents' room to make sure they were asleep. He heard his dad snoring, and his mom's even breathing. They didn't notice at all when he crept down the stairs and headed out the front door.

It was a hot day in August. He didn't need a coat or jacket. The streetlights shone bright, guiding his way to Jiro's house. Once he got close enough, he crossed the street so he'd be on the right side. A few houses up, he saw her, lying on the sidewalk.

She was clinging to her foot and crying.

"JEE-WHOA!" Hanta ran the best he could in his power ranger flip flops and made it to his side. "What's wong?!"

When he looked down, he saw it. A thin shard of clear glass was sticking out of Jiro's sole. Blood dripped from it and onto the concrete.

"M-my m-mommy and d-daddy awen't b-back yet," Jiro cried.

"My mommy can fix it," Hanta said, although he himself was freaked out.

"B-but I c-can't w-walk."

Hanta tried to think like a grownup. What would daddy do if…Then he got an idea. As best he could, he picked up Jiro and rushed to the garage, which his parents had left open. When Jiro got too heavy, Hanta placed him down on the ground. Then he looked in their pile of toys for the toy wagon they played with.

Jiro tried to climb into it but he cried out in pain when he accidentally bumped his foot. Hanta picked Jiro up one more time and put him on his back in the wagon. Then he grabbed the handle and pulled it down the sidewalk towards his house.

~.~

Needless to say, his parents were furious. Not only about did he leave the house in the middle of the night, but he did it to see the neighbor kid, whom they highly disapproved of. It got worse when they found out Jiro's parents had been gone for almost a month.

"We need to call child protective services."

"Being hippies is one thing, but they left a five-year-old alone."

"I'm surprised the kid hasn't starved to death."

"This is outrageous."

"Do we have Mika and Kyotoku's contact information?"

"To hell with them! We need to contact the police!"

His parents continued to discuss potential scenarios as they patched up Jiro's foot. For the most part, Hanta didn't understand what they were saying. He was just glad his friend would be okay.

~.~

Hanta's parents bought a child-proof lock for the front door. But it didn't stop Jiro from coming over. His foot was still healing, so he couldn't climb like he did before. Instead, he'd put his bad foot in the wagon and wheel himself with his good foot to the side of Hanta's house. Then Hanta would drop the towel rope and pull him up.

He always made sure to lowers Jiro back down and out before his parents woke up. They permitted him to go outside like usual. Only this time, it wasn't to play.

Mrs. Sero handed Hanta a bento box of food tied with a bow. "Bring this over. I won't have anyone starving. But come straight home after you've dropped it off."

Hanta, of course, didn't. Children were born masters of something adults struggle to remember how to do.

Forget.

All he remembered was the task of bringing food to Jiro. Once Hanta reached the front door, he knocked and rang the doorbell.

Jiro opened it and smiled wide. "Hi, Hanta!"

"I bwought food."

"Wanna come in?"

Hanta cocked his head to the side, confused. He'd seen the outside of Jiro's house hundreds of times by now. It never occurred to him that there could be an inside. "What's…inside?"

Jiro shrugged. "House stuff."

Hanta decided that was a good answer and stepped inside.

~.~

Hanta's jaw dropped when Jiro bright him to his bedroom. It was covered head to toe in rockstar posters. Vinyls, instruments, CDs, guitar picks, amp wires, and tons of other musician paraphernalia littered the floor. The bed wasn't made, but it was huge. In front of a TV was a pile of empty chip bags, and nutrigrain bar wrappers.

"You have a TV in your woom?!" Hanta asked.

"Yeah! So I can see mommy and daddy when they're on stage!" Jiro excitedly limped over to the tv and pushed in a VCR tape before pressing play.

The screen turned on and showed Mika and Kyotoku performing at a concert.

"This one we dedicate to our little drumstick!"

"We love you, kiddo!"

Jiro beamed. "That's me!"

Hanta watched as Jiro sang along to the song her parents were playing. A burning feeling in his stomach appeared. Something he'd never felt before. He didn't know what to call it. All he knew was he didn't like that Jiro's room looked like a grownup room and he had his own tv and his parents had the coolest job ever. Or that Jiro got to do whatever he wanted.

"They towd me theyw be home soon. Then we'w go to a cheese factory and have cake!"

Hanta scowled. "If you got all this cool stuff, why do you come over my house?"

Jiro stared at him, not understanding. "To…pway."

"Why?"

"I can't pway piwates by myself." Jiro gasped. "Oh!" He got up and crawled onto the bed. "Wanna see my tweasure?"

Hanta got on the bed too, crawling over to where Jiro was digging around. Finally, he pulled out a treasure chest from under the blankets. His mind ran wild with what could be inside. Coins? Jewels? Diamonds? An eye patch? A skull? His heart raced as she lifted the lid.

But when he finally looked inside, he was confused by what he saw. The white, oval-shaped stones they pretended were dinosaur eggs. Tons of guitar pics. A small violin. The snail shells they dug up in the yard. A little bar of soap shaped like a guitar. A pair of drumsticks. A magazine with her parents on the cover.

It didn't take long for his eyes to narrow in on the most valuable object in the entire chest.

An iridescent blue, mother-of-pearl button.

It shimmered like a coin. Glittered like a jewel. There was only one, and it was the most beautiful thing Hanta had ever seen.

Jiro suddenly crawled off the bed and limped out of the room. "Potty!" He yelled.

The bathroom door in Jiro's hallways slam closed. Hanta's heart raced as he continued to stare at the button. Somehow, it just wasn't fair. That Jiro could have everything a kid could want, a chest full of treasures…and this beautiful, shiny little button. In that moment, he wanted it more than he'd wanted anything in his life.

He didn't have the words for "I'm jealous." So instead, he chose to hate her.

~.~

While she was in the bathroom, he ran home. When she came at night to be pulled up his window, he didn't open it. The next day, when his mother gave him another bento box to bring her, he stomped away, saying Jiro didn't need it.

As far as Hanta was concerned, his friendship with Jiro was over. He didn't need Jiro.

He had something better.

~.~

The following day, Hanta laid in the grass in his front yard and played with the button, wiggling it around in the sunlight to see all the different colors. It was like holding a piece of the rainbow.

"Hanta!"

He immediately hid the button behind his back and laid down, trying to hide.

Jiro came running up the sidewalk. "My foot owie is gone!" He announced. "And mommy and daddy came back today!"

Hanta scowled. "I don't care."

Jiro stared down at him, cocking his head to the side. "What do you have?"

"Nothing," he snapped.

"Lemme see!" Jiro said excitedly.

"No!"

Jiro smiled and got down in the grass with him, thinking it was a new game. He hid it in his hand and sat on it. Jiro climbed onto his lap and reached behind him, trying to grab it. He laughed in the attempt.

"Gimme!"

"NO!"

"Gimmegimmegimmegimmegimme - "

" - NOOOOO!"

Jiro rolled them in the grass until the object fell out of his hand. Then he sat on Hanta to pin him as he searched for it.

"GET OFF ME!"

Jiro reached with all his might.

Hanta wiggled underneath, trying to get free. But it was too late. He looked over his shoulder and gasped. Jiro was staring down into his hand. At the button.

Jiro didn't think the game was funny anymore. His bottom lip trembled as he began to cry. "You stowe my buwied tweasure?"

"You don't need it," Hanta argued. "You aweady have so much stuff!"

Jiro cried harder. "M-mommy g-gave this to me. She c-called it a muh-maid button."

"Stop crying!" Hanta urged. He knew if his parents heard it, he'd be in big trouble.

But that only made him cry harder.

"I SAID STOP!" Hanta pushed him, while also trying to take back the button.

But Jiro's cries turned into a yell of rage, and he fought back, shoving Hanta down and hitting him with his fists. Hanta tried to block his face, but Jiro had him trapped. There was only one thing left to do.

"MOOOOOOOMMYYYYYYYYY!"

Hanta's parents came rushing out and immediately pulled the two apart. He'd assumed they'd come to rescue him. But once they were apart, both of his parents kneeled down in front of Jiro and began checking him for injuries.

Mrs. Sero wiped Jiro's face with the corner of her dress. "What happened?"

Jiro stared down into his hand, clinging to the coveted mermaid button. "H-Hanta…t-took…my - "

" - TATTLETALE!" Hanta exclaimed.

Mr. Sero shot Hanta a stern look. "In the house. Now."

"But - "

" - NOW!"

~.~

Hanta sat in a chair, holding an ice pack against his face as both his parents stood over him with stern expressions. He wasn't just in trouble. He was in grounded-from-fun-for-life-trouble.

"I am so disappointed in you," Mr. Sero said.

"How could you pick a fight with that poor child when Kyoka's suffered so much already?!"

Hanta stared at them, not understanding. "Who's Kee-yo-kuh?"

"Very funny," Mr. Sero said.

"Her parents are dingbats, but from what I've seen, Kyoka is a nice girl. I can't believe you'd ever hurt her. I told you it's wrong to hurt girls!"

"Not to mention you were not winning that fight," Mr. Sero said. His eyes narrowed into disapproving slits. "She's half your size. How could she have gotten the best of you like that? It's unacceptable."

"Dear, that's not the point of - "

" - Seros don't lose. Ever. Especially not to girls."

Hanta teared up. No. They're wrong. I'd never never never hit a girl. Hitting girls is bad. Only meanies hit girls. I'm not a meanie. "Jee-whoa pushed me! I wasn't losing!"

Both his parents looked at each other.

Mrs. Sero shook her head. "Hanta…Jiro is her last name. Her name is Kyoka Jiro."

No. That was impossible. That would mean the entire summer, when they played and shared toys and shared a bed and shared secrets and shared everything…his best friend was…

A girl.

He screamed, running to the bathroom to wash his face. JEE-WHOA COVERED ME IN GIRL COOTIES! He sobbed as he tried to clean himself off, but everything hurt. His five-year-old heart could barely take it. It was the ultimate betrayal. How dare his best friend be a girl? How could Jiro do that to him? They played pirates and collected dinosaur eggs and took turns pulling each other in the wagon. Those weren't the sorts of things one did with a girl. He'd shared his entire world with Jiro. But not anymore. He'd never forgive him. He'd never forgive her.

~.~

A few days before the start of Kindergarten, his dad took him out of town for the playdate. He sat sulking in his car seat. "I don't wanna meet them," he grumbled.

"You're lucky I didn't cancel," Mr. Sero snapped. "You need to be on your best behavior. Unlike you, Ejirou is a very well-behaved boy. Denki's shy and a little slow on the uptake but you need to treat him like any other kid. Their parents are very good friends of mine. If you make a bad impression it will be very embarrassing. For both of us. Do you understand?"

"Yes, daddy," he mumbled. Hanta crossed his arms, glaring at his new shoes, which were very uncomfy.

Finally, they pulled in front of a 70's style house. The garage door was up and a woman was in a bathing suit, sanding down a surfboard. She looked up when she saw the car and smiled wide, waxing excitedly.

Mr. Sero beamed. "She doesn't age a day. I swear."

A man in swim trunks made a "hang tight" symbol as Mr. Sero pulled into the driveway.

Hanta tried not to care, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.

A man with blonde hair and the red-haired surfer woman walked around the car and stood next to the driver's side. Mr. Sero rolled down the window. "Long time no see, 'Nari."

"Looking Good, Ser."

"Shima looks better than both of us," Sero with a laugh.

The surfer woman blushed. "Oh, shut up."

"Still like being flirted with, I see."

Shima popped a beer cap off with her teeth and spit it at Mr. Sero's face. "Just get in the damn house, you whore."

"Um…little ears, Shima."

Hanta stared out his window, tuning out his father's conversation. His eyes widened when two little boys came running with water guns and swimsuits towards his side of the car. The blonde jumped and down, waving and yelling.

"HANTA HANTA HANTA HANTAAAAA!"

A black-haired boy with red eyes made an explosion sound and shot water at Hanta's car window. The blonde one jumped up and licked it. Hanta grinned, excited to play with them. He unbuckled his car seat clasps and got up closer so they could see him.

They both smiled wider, joining together to yell, "HANTA HANTA HANTA HANTA!"

"That's your little man?" Nari asked. "Damn, the fucker got big."

"LITTLE EARS!" Mr. Sero reminded them.

"He looks just like you," Shima said. "Poor thing."

"He's gonna be a lady killer, just you wait."

"From what your wife told me, it sounds like he already is. I heard about that poor girl."

Mr. Sero stiffened. "A little misunderstanding is all," he tried to brush off. "Hanta's normally so self-contained. It was very unlike him."

Nari rolled his eyes. "He's five. There's no such thing."

"Well let Hanta out so they can play," Shima said. "The kids have been dying to play with him."

"You sang his praises?"

"I might've said he's the coolest boy ever cuz his dad was Captain Coolsville himself, so…they're a little…excited."

"HANTA HANTA HANTA HANTA - "

Finally, Mr. Sero let Hanta out of the car. Denki and Ejirou set to work pulling Hanta's clothes off to uncover the swim trunks beneath.

Hanta wasn't used to being manhandled so much, but it felt surprisingly natural. Like a litter of puppies tussling. Hanta left his clothes on the grass and ran into the backyard with them to play in the sprinkler, shoot his new friends with water guns, and watch Ejirou do swimming tricks in the pool.

Just like that, he forgot all about Jiro.

~.~

After the incident with Hanta, Kyoka's parents said yes when she begged them to take her back on tour with them instead of going to kindergarten. Her parents gave her a tablet to practice her letters. It turned out she was already proficient in reading and writing since she helped her parents compose songs. Math wasn't too difficult either. She'd been learning fractions since the moment she could read sheet music. Her parents took turns homeschooling her for the rest while they were on the road. Her parents knew their daughter was in pain, so they brought her to the place they went to expel theirs.

The stage.

She banged the tambourine and danced and sang and screamed along with the crowds who came to listen. By the time she was eight, Mika and Kyotoku were letting her perform solo songs, which were received very well. When she missed Hanta, she'd go into a payphone booth and pretend to call him. She'd never put a coin in the machine, she'd just pick it up and talk as if he were there. But all that did was make her want to call him for real. So instead she wrote songs. She wrote songs about Hanta until his name became a word and the pain became a memory. She'd made dozens of friends in countless cities. Her parents had grandparents in San Francisco that loved to spend time with her. The hole Hanta left in her heart had been filled, and finally, she began to heal.

When her parents began touring overseas, she went back to the house in Happy Valley to attend middle school. On the first day, she saw Hanta again. He was taller. Handsome. Popular. With girls and boys. But especially the girls. He had two new friends following him around. But by then, it didn't matter. She hadn't considered Hanta a friend for years.

Jiro didn't join the cheerleading squad. Or debate club. Or even any music classes. There wasn't anything a middle school band could teach her that she hadn't already been taught by her parents. She kept to herself and, when a group of girls decided to welcome her, she allowed them to assimilate her into their clique.

She almost went all of middle school without talking to Hanta. Until he accidentally bumped into her in the hallway.

"Shit! Sorry, bro."

Jiro froze. She'd overheard his voice when he talked to his friends in the cafeteria, but he hadn't spoken directly to her since they were little.

She forgot how happy that used to make her.

"Huh. You look kinda familiar. Do I know you?"

Her happiness shattered like glass. Then she felt nothing. "Is that a joke?"

He laughed awkwardly. "Um…no. Sorry, I…I can't place you. Do you know where - "

" - We live on the same street. We have since we were five."

He narrowed his eyes, clearly trying to remember. "No way. We would've grown up together."

Jiro stiffened. "My parents are musicians. I spent most of my life touring with them."

"Oh. That makes sense." He gave Jiro's shoulder a playful shove. "What's your name, man?"

She stared him down. "Kyoka Jiro."

Hanta paled. His eyes widened with shock before he recovered. Then his mouth twisted into a scowl. "I remember you. You're the douchebag that beat the shit out of me."

That's all he remembers? Jiro laughed. No. It's all he chooses to remember. "It's good to be home."

He took a step back. "Stay away from me."

His words stung. "You're the one who bumped into me. I was minding my own business."

"That was an accident. I apologized."

"Too bad you can't apologize for that face."

"You can," he snapped.

"I'm not sorry."

"Hey," a gruff voice said. "You shouldn't pick on little girls."

They both turned around to see a stocky blonde boy with a permanent "fuck off" look on his face staring them down.

"Something tells me this one doesn't need a referee," Sero snapped.

The boy smirked. "I wasn't talking to you."

"OWW!" A girl with brown hair came up from behind him and swatted the boy's back. "Sick burn, new kid!"

The boy scowled. "The name's Katsuki Bakugo," he snapped.

"Sero!" A boy with black hair waved from down the hall. "Come on, man! Kami got the table by the window!"

Bakugo smiled. "Tell your boyfriend I said hi."

Sero glared at the two of them before turning on his heel and strutting away.

Jiro made a "rock on" symbol. "I'm Jiro."

He sized her up in half a second. "Whatever."

"You're new?"

"To this school at least. This is my third one." He said it as if it were something to be proud of.

"Moved a lot?"

"Expulsions."

"Bitchin'."

"You ever been expelled?"

"Nah, just sent to Juvie."

Bakugo sized her up again, but in a way that implied he was re-evaluating her. "Stay outta my way and I'll stay outta yours."

She smirked. "Why would I do that when we can hate on that dipshit together?"

He grinned. But the way he did it made him look like a snarling dog. "You ever been in a fight?"

She pointed her thumb in Sero's direction. "My first one was with dipshit. I won."

Bakugo smiled wider. "I don't think I'm gonna hate you."

~.~

Their worlds collided again when Jiro started dating Kaminari, one of Hanta's best friends. But by then she'd moved on from the pain and the sadness the loss of Hanta's friendship had caused. She had new friends. A new job. Co-workers who respected her. A boyfriend who loved her. Parents who tried their best to be there for her, despite their jobs.

It didn't happen often. But despite all of the good things in her life, the past would rear its ugly head in one the place she was defenseless. Her dreams. She'd remember sharing a bed with Hanta, or the night he pulled her in his wagon even though it would get him in trouble. Or the dinosaur eggs, or the first time they played, running in the yard until they fell down. When that happened, she'd slip on her sneakers and lock her headphones into place over her head. Then she'd step outside, blast some music, and run until she fell down.