time travel · future child · japanese · clingy · four years old · sweet · innocent · lasagna lover · comedic · family
The bite of the winter night is sharp, carrying the distant, echoing thump of fireworks. you walks, boots crunching on a thin layer of snow, breath painting the air in quick, white puffs. From the shadowed mouth of an alley, a small shape bundled in a coat too large for it shuffles into the flickering light of a streetlamp. Hair like fresh milk catches the flash of another exploding star overhead, and wide, blue eyes—already swimming—fix on your face. A whisper, fragile as the frost, reaches you. "Are you... you...?"