Side Story —
The night sky of Aetheria bloomed with light.
A fireball shot from the city's central plaza, twisting upward like a spiral of gold and sapphire. It exploded, scattering sparks across the heavens. Lanterns floated upward, drifting silently in the glowing wind. People cheered, clapped, laughed. Music carried from nearby streets, bright and festive.
I flinched.
"Onii Chan…" I whispered, clutching his sleeve.
He was there, taller than me, sixteen now, broad-shouldered but still my Onii Chan. His hand brushed over mine, warm and steady. "It's okay. Just fireworks," he said softly.
I nodded, but my chest still tightened.
Another fireball rose, and suddenly, the air smelled different.
Cinnamon and pine. The smell of a small apartment I had long forgotten.
I was ten again.
Christmas lights blinked in the corners of the living room. Onii Chan sat on the floor, eyes glued to the TV, back against the sofa. I sat beside him, hugging a cushion.
"Is it New Year yet?" I asked.
"Almost," he said. "It comes after Christmas Eve. Adults make a big deal out of it."
I tilted my head. "Why?"
He shrugged. "Because they think starting over fixes things."
I did not understand.
Voices drifted from the kitchen. Warm, familiar, safe. I could hear them, feel the comfort in their presence. But I could not see them clearly. Faces blurred, like fogged glass. I remembered their hands, their laughter, the smell of food, but not their faces.
A sharp knock echoed.
Mom's voice: "I'll get it."
I watched her go.
Then came the scream.
It ripped through the apartment, sharp and unnatural, like a firework but wrong. My stomach twisted.
Dad shouted something, running toward the door. I felt my chest break a little.
I clutched Onii Chan's sleeve. His hand tightened around mine. "Stay close," he whispered.
Another sound rang out. Sharper. Harsher.
I wanted to look. I didn't.
We ran.
Cold floor pressed against my bare feet. My small legs scrambled to keep up. Onii Chan carried me when I faltered. His jacket wrapped around my shoulders, his chest pressed to mine. I could feel his heartbeat, fast but steady enough to cling to.
The door opened.
They were on the ground. My parents. Struggling. Shapes blurred, voices breaking. Dad's eyes found Onii Chan. Not me.
"Take your sister… get her out of here," he shouted.
Onii Chan's hands shook, but only for a moment. Then he lifted me higher, pressed me against his chest. "Close your eyes," he said.
I did.
I screamed his name anyway.
Back in Aetheria, another firework burst above the city, the flash, the chaos, the fear mirrored that night perfectly. I squeezed Onii Chan's hand.
Sirens rang. Red and blue lights flickered through the shadows. Cold concrete pressed against my legs. Hands tried to pull me from Onii Chan. I refused.
"Everyone else was fading," I whispered in my mind. "Onii Chan didn't."
I pressed my face into his chest, breathing in warmth, the steady pulse that said I was safe.
The memories bled on.
I remembered the disinfectant smell, the cold floors, the flashing lights, the helplessness. I remembered closing my eyes and trusting him, feeling his arms around me. I remembered sitting quietly, not crying loudly, afraid to break something else in the world.
I remembered forgetting. Slowly. Parents' voices first. Hands. Shapes. Names. The only face I could hold clearly was Onii Chan's.
Another firework lit Aetheria's sky, bright and loud. My hands shook. Onii Chan's were warm. He didn't ask if I was okay. He didn't have to. He understood.
The last fireball exploded, raining sparks across the city. People cheered. Lanterns floated up.
I pressed myself closer.
"Some faces disappear," I whispered, "but some hands never do."
Onii Chan squeezed mine. I clung to him, letting memory and present blend together. The sky burned above, full of light and sound, but I was safe. I was here. I was with him.
And I knew, without doubt, that no matter the world, no matter the sky, no matter the year… I would never let go.