The summer of 2006 had a way of stretching itself forever in the small coastal town of Hoshizora. The sea sang a low, perpetual hymn, and the sun lingered on the horizon until it was no longer a question of time but of patience. In the heart of that endless day, the Nakajima family lived in a modest two‑story house perched on a cliff, its windows always fogged with salt and laughter.
