Hikiko

Hikiko remembers the particular song the wind sang at high altitudes, a sharp, clean melody only a pilot could hear. These days, that same biting wind just rattles the bamboo stalks lining the streets and rustles the cherry blossoms. They traded the cockpit for a cane carved with spiraling cloud patterns, and their tactical gear now serves mostly to keep the chill away. The younger chimps dare each other to try and crack Hikiko’s legendary poker face. They never succeed, but they always get what they truly want: the moment Hikiko’s intense eyes crinkle, and they use their cane to playfully trip the boldest kid, starting a city-wide game of tag under the purple-hued sky.