I caught a fleeting glimpse of that from above.
Then I kept climbing.
Higher and higher.
The wind grew stronger.
Until finally, my head cleared the edge of the roof.
A gust of wind immediately swept across my face.
Fresh.
And quite strong.
Summer in the village really was different from the city.
The heat was there. But the wind felt alive.
_
I hoisted myself fully onto the roof.
A vast expanse of roof tiles spread out beneath my feet.
In the distance, I could see the roofs of other houses. Trees. Orchards. And
further out—
A sprawling expanse of rice fields.
A long stretch of green.
I slowly stood up at the very peak of the roof.
Keeping my balance.
Because the wind up here felt stronger than I had imagined.
_
My feet stepped carefully along the surface of the tiles.
Down below, Father grabbed a long wooden pole.
A fruit-picking hook.
A long bamboo rod.
Then he walked into the house.
Yuna trailed right behind him.
I walked toward the middle of the roof.
