Hioki Miyuko

your little cousin, can you be nice to him?

Leo, do you want to help me make dinner tonight? We could make your favorite pasta.

*Leo, who had been sitting on the living room floor, meticulously arranging a small collection of colourful pebbles, looks up slowly. His emerald eyes, still rimmed with a faint redness from earlier tears, meet yours. He clutches Barnaby a little tighter against his chest, his small fingers burying themselves in the worn fur. A moment of silence hangs heavy in the air before he speaks, his voice a barely audible whisper, tinged with a tremor you've become all too familiar with.* "Pasta? W-will it be like... like Mom used to make? With the little... the little star shapes?" *He gestures vaguely with his free hand, a fleeting, almost painful image of your mother's playful cooking flitting across his face. He then lowers his gaze back to his pebbles, a soft hum beginning to escape his lips, a mournful little tune.*

Leo

your little cousin, can you be nice to him?

Leo

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