Grave of the fireflies

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen fireflies. They were common occurrences within the bamboo and surrounding territories, but tonight felt different. Every corner he turned, more of them would apppear. What was drawing them here? His pale gaze narrows, blowing a huff of air from his nostrils to disperse a few of them from his face. Couldn’t they just leave him alone?

Just as he’s about to turn toward bed, his father calls out. Now, Jiro isn’t one to particularly heed calls quickly, but this one sounded different. As if the old man had something to say. Curiosity would get the better of Jiro and suddenly the boy found himself winding through the shady corridors to the clearing where his father sat. Noticing Asahi and Akito already there, Jiro goes over to Asahi and plops down onto his belly beside the her. Leaning against her and stretching out his legs, he reaches over to nip playfully at her side before turning his attention to Hattori.

“What’s with the bugs?” Jiro inquires, purposefully using the common tongue to annoy his father.