It was these days Xochitl would envy the Pentecostals and Baptists back home. As for one, their services were vibrant, filled with drums, clapping, and sometimes a strange spell of twisted dancing took hold of the congregation. She could still remember walking past the white-painted wooden structures, the sun dipping red behind trees, yet the sermon was still in high swing. Their singing, chanting, clapping of hands and fiery speaking of tongues. She also remembered her mother quickening her pace and dragging Xochitl at hand, urging her to do the same while she harrumphed. Xochilt then turned to look at her mother, one of the few to be fervent with the priest's words. Her thumb ran over her rosary and hair covered in a white lace mantilla—the design reminded the teenager of the sofa's cotton throw-over. Too bad they haven't decorated their home here the same. Back in Belize, they could be seen on the couch, tv stands and tables.

She slumped, bending forward until her cheek awkwardly touched her thigh. At this angle, she took notice of her ankle, and an itch flared there just as when she stared at it. She scratched at it through her stockings, only stopping to peep at her mother. Luckily she was still taken by the priest's words to reprimand her to fix her posture and to stop the jittering. Xochitl looked over to her brothers as she watched Hitoshi using her fathers shoulder as an armrest. The older man was fast asleep and had been so for the past hour. Ever since she could remember, her father had never been awake to hear the sermon from start to finish. Her mother has long since abandoned all hope to enlighten him with any reverence for church (to the annoyance of her aunts and the sisters).

Across from Hitoshi sat Ryuuzu, his legs swinging back and forth, a sense of lethargy altered his features, and his face glistened brightly after being oiled religiously by their mother. All of them were. The smell of coconut and castor oil scented this aisle. Before arriving, mother had made it her mission to smear each of her children with countless oils so that when either stood in the sun, none of them would need a mirror. Not when their siblings' forehead was a perfect reflector. Ryuuzu turned and looked at Xochitl before making a face. She soon returned one of her own. Before, it could morph into a game of crude silent pantomime and snickers (no doubt would have ended with their mother's scolding). The fated—and most anticipated—words of the priest's breakthrough.

"Ite Missa est."

The congregation (with much jubilation from Xochitl and her siblings) responded, "Thanks be to God."

Hitoshi was the one who broke the news, "Sister Galang is not in attendance; her arthritis is flaring up."

Xochitl sulked. Frankly, what all three of them could talk about for a week was tasting Sister Galang's homemade treats. Especially her; she had been dreaming of the treats since December.

"Have you told Ryuuzu as yet?"

Her brother was nowhere in sight. From the end of the sermon, he seemed to vanish into thin air, and the courtyard was much too cold and wet for him to retreat there. Perhaps, she should worry more, but she knew he would be fine. Ryuuzu was, no doubt, somewhere wreaking havoc or planning to do so soon.

"I think it's better not to."

"At least Sister Padillo has the decency to make homemade pastel de elote; she is one of the few who make me look forward to these Sunday services."

Hitoshi chuckled, "Don't tell me you only come to church to satisfy your palate."

Xochitl shrugged her shoulders in reply as she reached for another finger treat. Some older boys soon swept away Hitoshi. They all were taken up with the idea of starting college this spring. She thought she spotted her father, cornered in a three-way conversation in Spanish. Despite living in Belize for much of their life, their father was terrible in the language. Like father like daughter, she thought. She couldn't help but snort.

Going for her second fillings, another church sister spotted her. Xochitl had long forgotten their name, but she did realise she was one of her mother's friends. Xochitl knew better now to keep in line with her manners as she politely nodded and smiled during the dull conversation. (Besides, she believes the woman was one the few who commented on her sewing. They even made some requests to have Xochitl show her work at their very boring book clubs).

She wasn't following too heartedly in the conversation, tuning it out when it became too preachy and pious for her taste. Xochitl went for another finger treat when the woman's action stopped her. In between their course thump and index finger was a trapped portion of her skin, as the woman inspected it, then tut loudly.

"I wouldn't advise you to partake in today's spread anymore. You have gotten plumper since the holidays."

Xochitl was much too happy when she let go as she rubbed the sore bruise grudgingly. Maybe, any other time, she might have allowed such a comment to take root in her mind and bloom into an ugly-thorn plant. However, lately, she had developed this fond idea of hoping to look more like her mother. She was very curvy, and Xochitl was not. But with time, she hopes it will be so. Therefore, she welcomes the few pounds she gained, hoping it may go to her chest or hips. She was ever most grateful that her mother wasn't (yet) privy to such thought.

The older woman would have continued her chatting. However, Ryuuzu, who seemed to reappear out of thin air, had reminded her that another sister needed her around back. Nothing was said between them as Xochilt helped herself to another serving.

"You lied, didn't you?" She didn't have to look to know that an impish smile was curling on his lips.

"She annoyed me most of the time. She doesn't know when to mind her business," Ryuuzu continued. "Besides, she had enough on her plate, as it is."

Xochitl turned at that, looking her brother in his eyes. "What have you heard?"

Perhaps she was wrong; there was another reason she looked forward to church: the gossip.

"Her niece, I had heard she is rather friendly with one of the altar servers."

She scrunched her nose. Most of the datable altar boys she knew were old. Older than Hitoshi.

"She doesn't have any taste," is what Xochitl decided to say.

"I beg to differ, I kinda like—"

Disappointed that he stopped, she looked up from her plate. Xochitl badly wanted him to continue. The conversation reminded her of before, of them back home, in the yard, under the cool spreading shade and secrecy of the trees. She could almost smell the sweet and bit sickening scent of the poinciana's flowers when they began to rot. Ryuuzu's shoulders were hunched, the sunset spiralling through the windows painted his face in the wonderous evening colours. There, across from them, their long shadow broke over the table—almost touching them both—was their father.

He seemed to escape the conversation and was helping himself to the spread before him—one hand over his food and another in his pocket. No doubt, he was debating with himself whether to smoke here. But he knew how their mother hated it when he did so in her presence. Especially here of all places.

Ryuuzu soon found his voice; it cracked, as he said it was a real disappointment that sister Galang wasn't here.

Xochitl pouted, aware of his terrible subject change but decided not to push it.

"It is disappointing indeed."

Despite the hour was past noon, and the sun was out, Tokyo was dark and cold. The air was suffocating, and her coat offered little to no respite. Xochitl watched her breath condense; she made a game out of it until she saw Keisuke. Compared to her, he was dressed lightly, with a simple padded coat. His face was drawn in indifference until he saw her waving, a genial smile now warming his features. He jogged to her, and they exchanged pleasantry as he apologised for his lateness.

"I've never heard you talk so politely before." Standing beside Keisuke, a square face boy, his eyes pierced and framed with a thick lush of lashes. The scowl returned quickly to Keisuke's face as he tried to step before the other boy. This continued until her kouhai gave in.

"I'm Takashi Mitsuya, Baji's friend."

She thought he looked familiar but said nothing of it as she exchanged her name. Like Keisuke, he called her Sochito. She snorted.

"I couldn't shake him," Keisuke told her when Mitsuya stopped to tie his shoelace. He also suggested to ditched him.

"Huh, wouldn't he be upset?" Xochitl was honestly shocked.

Keisuke only shrugged as he placed his arms behind his head, "He will get over it; Mitsuya is cool like that."

She gave him an eye, but her kouhai had already found another subject noteworthy of her attention. When Keisuke was preoccupied with a stray thread from his sleeves, Xochitl crouched slightly and lowered her voice—mirroring those gossip mongers at church.

"Keisuke said you're rather cool," she hoped she pronounced the words right (from what she had gathered from the few short conversations, Mitsuya had a rather hard time deciphering her words. Whether it was her accent or her terrible usage of expression in places where she shouldn't—or both). It was an odd word she hadn't heard before; she deciphered it as one of that yankii slang. She tried earlier to glean the meaning from her kouhai but failed.

Realisation clicked seconds later as a lovely smile and laughter took hold of the boy. A pretty shade of red sat on his cheek as he gave her an explanation, "He meant mature."

He pronounced the word loudly as her kouhai tried to aim a jab at him. It happened so quickly. She wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for Mitsuya's statement about Keisuke missing. He was rather skilled, like a dancer. She then realised she truly knew nothing of him. Or rather, neither of them knew much of either.

"They always made fun of it, but I don't mind. Having the knowledge of being an older brother helps me handle these rugrats."

!

Excitement colouring her voice, she asked, "You're an older brother; how many siblings do you have?"

Mitsuya was not taken aback by her questions but seemed just as excited to answer her. "Two, they will be the death of me." He continued with other details of their various mischiefs. His smile grew after each account.

"They sound sweet, but I guess that's how younger sisters are."

He looked at her, and Xochitl's face warmed under his stares, "I have siblings too, two of them. However, I am the youngest. I see more similarities between your sisters and me."

"Then that's very telling; they are both toddlers and to think someone, who is my senior, to find similarities with them is rather notable."

She laughed, her head thrown back. "Gosh, no matter where older brothers are, they are all the same."

"I will say the same. Are all younger sisters so demanding?"

Xochitl humphed playfully as Mitsuya continued to make verbal jabs at her.

"I didn't know you have brothers?"

Oh? Xochitl hoped she wouldn't habitually ignore her kouhai; she quickly forgot he was there every time they were together. She blamed his unselfishness in letting her delve into conversation carefreely, with no need to mind the other partner. It is not so with Henri. He demanded most—if not all—her concentration.

"Our previous chatter hasn't provided the chance to."

Keisuke let her answer settle between them as though he was sifting through each word. Satisfied, an emotion she couldn't explain, coloured his face.

"...I'm the only child," he finally said. She waited for him to continue. It wasn't when Mitsuya motioned for her to fasten her pace that she knew (certainly) it was all he was going to say about the subject.

They reached Haikara earlier than expected, the shop still as dusty as the last she had seen. Although, it appear most of their shelves were empty. Perhaps, gone in the Christmas sales? Keisuke soon explained as they both sifted through the music collection (her eyes taken with the many piercing in Mitsuya's ears).

"They are selling the shop," his breath just at her ear. It brought a chill down her spine. She fixed her hair so that it covered it. "Something about demolishing it, gonna replace with one of those rubbish stores. Ya know, some coffee shop or some new-wave shit."

"A shame; I like these traditional architects."

Keisuke made a sound with his tongue, which said he disagreed.

"Not too fond of preserving history?"

His nose wrinkled, making him look childish, which reminded Xochitl of his age. The conversation died as she continued searching. Keisuke would bring him several tattered album-covered records. Mitsuya examines the alternative aisle.

"You seemed to get along with Mitsuya?" His question broke her from her reverie. She nodded.

"He is one of the few you will mesh with well; the others are just festering pus. No good." Despite his harsh words, there was no bitterness beneath his words; a small smile curled at the edges of his lip as he reflected upon memories.

Xochitl, feeling guilty for ignoring earlier engaging (passionately) in conversation, decided to playfully nudge at him, "You've gotten taller, haven't you?"

Keisuke perked up at this as his eyes lit with delight, "You have noticed too, I tried telling the others, but they are too dense. Mikey especially," his voice lowered. "He hates that his growth spurt is yet to start. Fricking jerk." Despite this, there was no tone of animosity behind those words.

Xochitl returned the earlier record he had given her, shaking her and telling him it wasn't much to her taste. Nevertheless, her kouhai was not deflated by her dislike; instead, she lit a new fire of determination as Keisuke tried to find another artist she might prefer.

"Excited about middle school?"

He paused, his nose scrunched, deep in thought; she had half a mind to change the topic when he finally relented, "Yeah, I supposed. For one, those annoying hags would be gone—hey, look at this song; I believe you will like it!"

He put the record on as they shared the headphone; Xochitl crouched as both their head touched, Keisuke playing the track to explain. The song was Dear Breeze from the Kiyotaka & Omega Tribe album titled: Another Summer. It was slow, with the iconic 80's reverbed drum playing in the background. It sounded sad, yet gentle: sweet.

"It's a song of nostalgia," explained her kouhai. 'Oh' was all she could think of as a response as she listened to the song build to the chorus. Only his hum and the sound of Mitsuya's boot scuffing the floor as the only sound of distraction.

"I think I like this album," she finally said; he seemed to agree with her as he went to find another record by them. She let him put it on, and they allowed the music to play between them for a few minutes. (Keisuke tipping on his toes to ensure the headphone they share to stay in place).

"Say," he started, "Can I call you later?"

Xochitl let the track they were listening to build to the hook before answering, "I think that's why I gave you my number." It is said in jest and some teasing.

A hum. Nothing. Silence as the track shift to another song. "I know, but you're not welcoming when people tend to pester you ….you tend to like your peace."

Was she so obvious? Or was he so perceptive? She spared a glance at him. He waited impatiently for her answer. He was so forward. She envied this in him. She wished she was more straight-cut.

"Well, I don't mind a text now and then. I will text you, too, to tell you about specials or any other event at the restaurant."

He played with an album cover. "That's nice, but you can text me something other than the topic of your work…not that I am not interested." he continued. "I want to know you more; it is clear that I don't. Neither of us doesn't, and I want that to change."

"..."

The music is slow, unlike most songs they have listened to. The singer's voice was solemn: desperate; they knew another moment wouldn't come.

"抱きしめ広がる海さ..." Xochitl tried translating the singer's words, but her Kouhai spoke again.

"If you're willing. Sorry, I didn't want to put you on the spot; I am not demanding anything but asking."

The singer continued; she could hear the sounds of piano and…strings? She closed her eyes, trying to picture a scene; she thought of a cold night and dark skies dotted with stars.

"You already have friends. I just don't see the means of wanting more?" It wasn't a question, but it came out sounding like one.

Keisuke fumbled with the headphones as he rocked on the ball of his feet. A hum. "I never knew there was a limit on friends."

"There is. I mean… How much time can you spare to build something meaningful with all of your friends? Besides, wouldn't that be too demanding? You would never have enough time for yourself."

"But how can it be draining if time is spent among those you care about?

Xochitl laughed through her nose airly as she awkwardly turned to stare at him, trying her best not to let the headphone fall. " It would." She thought of Henri, Hemra and her brothers. Mostly her brothers. She loved them: Ryuuzu and Hitoshi. They can be so.., overwhelming at times. Yet, she didn't think there was any time she felt drained in their presence. Yes, there is childish fury and confusion at not understanding (misreading) their actions. But drain, never.

She gnawed at her lips (chapped from the cold weather), "You're too young—"

"You talked as if I don't understand the weight of my words. I may be young, but I know the value of spoken words."

Just the music between them continued between them…she shifted, creating a gap. However, Keisuke moved quickly to fill it. Xochitl stared at him as he stared back. Neither broke eye contact. It was the longest she had ever looked at him, she noted.

She was ashamed to admit it, but the look of sheer determination and of emotion she didn't know the precise words to describe behind his words. He frightened her sometimes. One moment her kouhai is like any teen boy, reckless and foolish for their own good, drunk on youth. Yet, there were times like now when he appeared so forward. No. That word did little to actually describe him. He seemed so…

"You're rather stubborn."

The song builds into a chorus. A slow waltz.

Keisuke's smile was roguish. His only response.

She let the singer finish the verse before she said: "Say, why do you want to be friends with me?"

A cock of a head, genuine confusion painted the features of his face. "Do there got to be a special reason?"

"It doesn't have to be special. However, a cause or something must draw you to that person." To me. However, she had become too shy to say the word for some reason. Invisible hands clutched her throat. She searched for Mitsuya, but he seemed preoccupied with the store attendant. His gestures were wild as he pointed at the shelves. Apparently, there are missing songs.

"How did you and Henri and that girl, Hemhem—"

"Hemera."

"Yes, how did you two become friends?"

"Like I said, Henri's dad and I are friends and Hemera…that's because of Henri." Xochitl's hoped he won't take notice of her paused in-between explanations. She ran her hands on the ends of the shelf. She quickly regretted her decision as she rubbed her fingers together to remove the dust.

"I don't necessarily have a reason why, but you seemed nice —well, nice enough (he quickly made an adjustment when she pulled a face), and I wanted to actually talk to you other than placing orders."

"…"

"Ok."

"Huh?"

"You can call me, preferably in the evening. Around 6 or 7."

Nothing. Then: "Why are you so methodical?" Keisuke sounded genuinely concerned.

She laughed. Throwing her head back (it startled Mitsuya, and the store attendant, whilst Keisuke stared expectantly), "That's the first. Usually, it's boring. I think it's because, to me, it makes sense and is more efficient."

The conversation was dwindling, and so was the song as the singer entered the final hook.

"How were your exams?" Keisuke asked.

Again, it felt like he was fishing for conversation. Nonetheless, she decided to indulge him.

"It was okay. I wanted to do better, but there is always next time." Xochitl decided not to ask about school but instead about something else he seemed interested in. "I've been meaning to ask why you like this genre of music? Most people your age are into the avant-garde sounds."

He seemed interested in the question, answering as soon as she said it. "I listen to other music, rock, alt. and metal. Most of my favourites are underground. You have to get their CDs at their moshpits or the square when they come to hand them out in the afternoon. But I think I like this because it's familiar."

"Because of your mom?"

There it was, that awkward emotion.

A hum, "Yeah, something of that sort…." It seemed he wouldn't continue then: "She used to lay these all the time, especially on dates like this, when it's just cold, and she will put it on to dance and warm us up, but not anymore."

Xochitl doesn't know why, but the questions keep rolling off her tongue. An emotion she could only describe as genuine, sweet-curious, interest a drive behind her sudden verbality. "Why is it that?"

"Life got busy." Keisuke's mouth formed a grim line and an emotion she knew too well: fury, one that burns on pure passion. She knew then not to push the topic further. " I get you. Life can get so intense at times."

Xochitl could hear other male voices accompanying the male lead; they harmonised as the song built to an end. She believed it was a song of love or, instead, the singer's desire to tell his lover something, but words failed him.

Keisuke had volunteered to walk her back to El Báquico, where she informed him that her father would pick her up. At the same time, Mitsuya decided to meet up with another friend.

"It's a far walk," Xochitl watched the air condense as she waited for Keisuke to answer.

With a shrug of his shoulders, "So what of it, got nothing to do after."

She started to answer when he told her to stop and pointed upwards. Soft tufts of white fell from the sky, and her kouhai—had somehow— convinced her to spend the better part of the late afternoon trying to catch snow with their mouths open.

My boyfriend's back and he's cooler than ever
There's no more night, blue skies forever
Lana Del Rey; Lust For Life

Hi, I am back; sorry for the five-month hiatus...but again, life. With this, I will continue the four-week updates...sigh. Only time will tell. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and appreciate feedback.

I hope you guys enjoy your summer holidays!