Flying the Dragon by Natalie Dias Lorenzi Page A

do?”
    Grandfather laughed. “We will have to save that for another time. It is getting late.” Grandfather looked toward the sun, which was now behind the trees on the other side of the park. “Next time we would love to hear one of your stories, Sorano. Wouldn’t we, Hiroshi? I am sure you must have some soccer stories to tell.” Hiroshi nodded, looking at his shoes. Grandfather stood. “It is time we walked Sorano home.”
    As he and Skye got up, Hiroshi heard a sickening
crunch.
Skye looked down; her hand flew to her mouth, and she gasped.
    “What?” Hiroshi followed her gaze where the dragon kite was pinned under her feet.
    “I’m so sorry!” Skye stepped off the dragon and reached for the kite, but Hiroshi blocked her with his arm.
    “Don’t touch it!” Hiroshi knelt and cradled the kite in his hands. He stood slowly, as if he were holding a cup filled with water and had vowed not to let a single drop spill. “Look what you did.” He wasn’t even sure if he had said the words out loud until Grandfather spoke.
    “Hiroshi.” Grandfather’s voice was stern. “It was an accident that can be fixed.”
    Skye apologized again, but Hiroshi couldn’t speak. The sight of the wounded kite and the sound of Grandfather’s harsh words drained the strength from Hiroshi’s knees. He sank onto the bench with the dragon on his lap, inspecting the damage in the fading light. Bamboo splintered through the ripped paper.
    Could this be fixed? When the kite had torn before, Grandfather had worked his magic and mended the tear. But this time? The bamboo pole would have to be replaced, which meant separating the broken pole from the kite, repairing the tear, and then attaching a new pole. He looked at Grandfather for answers, but Grandfather had his arm around Skye’s shoulder. Her face was pale. Grandfather gave Hiroshi a look that warned him not to say anything more.
    Why was Grandfather feeling sorry for
her?
She was the one who hadn’t been careful. She was the one who had broken the kite. And Grandfather was too sick to make another one. This was too much.
    Hiroshi stood, tucking the kite under his arm.
    “It is time to head home,” Grandfather said. Skye nodded, looking miserable.
    The walk to Skye’s door only took about ten minutes, but it felt like an hour. Hiroshi wished he could cover his ears to block out Skye’s apologies and Grandfather’s reassurance that they could fix the kite. Before Skye had opened her front door, Hiroshi turned away as he mumbled good night.
    “Hiro-chan, you were too hard on Sorano.” Grandfather’s voice was gentle, but his words cut right through Hiroshi.
    “But she ruined the kite!”
    “A person’s heart is infinitely more important than any object.”
    Hiroshi wanted to say that the dragon kite wasn’t just any object, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep the anger from his voice. He fixed his eyes on the ground.
    “Your grandmother would have loved to see you and Sorano flying the kite together.”
    All Hiroshi could do was nod. Why did everything always come back to Skye? What Hiroshi needed was more time with Grandfather, without Skye around. Now all he had to do was think of a way to get it.

17
Skye

    Skye shut the front door, snuck past the smell of dinner, and headed for the stairs.
    “Skye, is that you?”
    She knew her dad wouldn’t let her sneak upstairs without tasting whatever it was he was cooking. She backtracked and leaned against the kitchen doorframe. Her dad was stirring something in a pot.
    “Did you have a good time?” He stopped, took a sip, nodded, then kept stirring.
    “I broke the kite, and—” Skye’s voice cracked. Her dad took one look at her and set the spoon down. “I ruined everything.” Skye took a shaky breath.
    “What happened?” Her dad came and gathered her in a hug.
    Skye leaned against him. “I accidentally stepped on the dragon kite and broke it.”
    “Oh, honey. I’m sure Grandfather knows it was an