Ten, Nine, Eight… Fly to the Star!

Sora loves counting. Especially backwards. Even getting out of the bath: "Ten, nine, eight…" Best of all is a rocket countdown. Sora has a promise with Grandma, who lives in a faraway town: "Every night, we look at the same star and say goodnight." But — truth be told — on the days Sora misses her voice, that star feels a little too far away.

So Sora made a plan. "I'll build a rocket, and send my letter up close to the star." A box. Silver paper. Three fins. That night at the park, the very first launch: "Ten, nine, eight… three, two, one, ZERO!" —pfft. The rocket tipped over with a soft thunk. Behind Sora, laughter. "That thing will never fly." It was Rico — the paper-airplane champion.

Sora's cheeks burned. But right then — Sora saw it. The rocket's little round window, just for a blink — glowed. Only when it pointed toward Grandma's star. "Did you… see that?" Sora spun around, but everyone was gone. A tiny light that, in the whole world, only Sora had seen.

The next day, and the day after that, Sora kept fixing. Re-wrapping the tape. Reshaping the fins. Moving the weight. "Ten, nine, eight…" —pfft. "Ten, nine, eight…" —thunk. Again, and again. And every single time, when the window faced the star: a tiny glow. As if it were saying, almost there. Sora whispered back, "Yeah. Almost there."

And then Sora heard the news. Tonight was the once-a-year Night of Shooting Stars — the night the star comes closest. It had to be tonight! But — oh no. Yesterday's launch had snapped one fin clean off. Could Sora really fix it alone before dark? Inside Sora's chest, a heartbeat started counting down: thud, thud, thud.

When Sora reached the park — Rico was there. Rico of the paper airplanes. The one kid in town who knows everything about fins and flying. Rico said nothing — just stood there, staring hard at Sora's rocket. The very same Rico who had laughed and said, "That thing will never fly."

The sky grew darker and darker. The star began to rise. The fin still wasn't fixed. In Sora's hand: the letter for Grandma, with a drawing of her face. Countdown time was almost here. To fix it alone — barely possible. To ask Rico — that would take a different kind of courage. What will Sora do?