"Kiku, don't get lost!"

Yao warned his brother as they stepped into the crowded marketplace. The smell of freshly steamed dough rose into the air, and chatter smothered the atmosphere – a few shouts of sales items piercing through. The cotton robes of others fluttered between their quick movements as Yao slipped through the crowd with ease. The man had finally found the stall that sold his brother's favourite buns. He engaged in animated conversation with the baker, ruffling his daughter's hair and promptly turning down a marriage request. The buns in hand, he called out to his brother again.

"Kiku! Come here!"

His brother, on the other hand, was not having such a great time. He was already feeling tired with all this crowded noise – and where did his big brother go?

"哥哥 — 哥哥！Where are you?"

His timid voice was drowned out by the crowd, with their comments of that poor little boy, where was his mother? but he looks so well dressed – he can't be a beggar. The boy bit his lip in frustration, balling up his fists in fear. Where, where, where was Yao?

"哥哥。。。"

Yao panicked. Where was Kiku? When did he lose him? How could he have paid so little attention? The boy was barely old enough to be out in the market place! He didn't bother excusing himself from the baker before rushing off through the crowd, trying to retrace the route that he took. He looked among the crowd, but the adult bodies masked any child that may have been among them. He asked around: was there any small child with a blue silk robe? A small child. No, he is not that tall. Please, please, help.

But there was no response besides a shake of the head or a shrug. Yao's mind spun with possibilities. Was the boy kidnapped? There was no way – Yao knew everyone in the village. But it was trading day – there might be people from other villages. Frustrated, he sat down at the side of a building, huffing in disappointment, when he felt something in his robe move.

The flute.

He pulled the instrument out – everyone in the village knew how well he played. Perhaps this would be a way. He put the instrument up to his lips and began playing – The most familiar tune that the villagers knew – to get their attention. Gradually, head started to turn and an audience formed a fair distance from him. he examined the crowd. Still no Kiku. Perhaps a song that he liked better.

Kiku ended up in an alley between two of the houses, crying. He had lost his brother. What was going to happen now? Would Yao abandon him? Was he going to have to live in the wilderness frever? Would Yao be mad at him forever for not following him? He wiped his tears with the back of his hand. No, he had to be strong. He was going to try again.

Standing up, the boy took a shaky, deep breathe before facing the crowd again, and prepared himself for the plunge – before hearing a sweet, sweet song sail through the air. It was slightly familiar – and it was of the flute. He remembered Yao playing the flute sometimes. Thinking of his brother, he began to tear up again, and he quickly wiped his tears with his sleeve, not wanting anyone to see his crying face. But the song changed – it was his favourite song! The song he loved because it sounded like sparrows. That had to be Yao. He raced through the crowd, tripping a few times and getting up with dirty hands and dusty pants and broke into a clearing, with Yao in the centre, still playing. His brother looked up and smiled before lowering the instrument and holding up his arms.

Kiku ran to his brother, crying, but this time from relief.

The crowd dispersed as Yao picked up the basket of food and material that he bought, and held onto his brother's hand tightly as they started their walk back home. Surprisingly, it was Kiku that started their conversation.

" — 'm sorry, 哥哥。 I couldn't follow you…"

Yao blinked in confusion. He was just in the middle of thinking of how he would apologize to Kiku. This would not do, it would not do at all. Bending down, he pushed the basket to the side.

"Kiku – that was not your fault. It was mine. I'm sorry that I made you scared, alright?" Yao wiped away a stray tear before continuing, "From now on, I will make sure that I pay more attention – I won't lose you again. I promise."

Kiku nodded, still a bit unsure and then held tightly onto his brother, burying his face in his brother's chest. Yao held his brother tightly for a moment before letting go, and grabbing a hold of one of the buns, now a bit cooled.

"Here, eat this while we walk, it might help you feel better, alright?

Kiku nodded, taking the bun in one hand, and Yao's hand in another, and they set off on their journey back home.

And so they held hands every time they went to the market until Kiku grew old enough to go by himself.

But the promise could not be kept, regardless of how hard his big brother tried.