Sana jolted awake. Where was Sora?
He was it.
It. As in tag.
There were six of them under the age of twelve—Sana, Sora, Kanna, Kaito, Niko, and Itsuki—and every hundred years, when they thawed out and the grown ups ran tank diagnostics, they played tag. And Sora had been it when they went down for the last chill.
Sana threw on a loose white coverall with a hood that looked like a zebra head and burst from the cryochamber at full sprint, leaving imprints on the shiny glass floor with her bare feet. She raced around corners and down hallways, covering her mouth but unable to hold in all of her giggles. Finally, she made it to Kanna’s cryochamber.
Slowly, silently, Sana slid open the door. Standing in the middle of the room, in mid-sprint, was Kanna.
“Oh no! How long have you been standing like that?”
“I’m frozen, I can’t talk,” said Kanna.
“Well which way did he go?”
Kanna motioned with her eyes to a cupboard in the corner, beneath a sink.
Sana crept toward it on her tip toes, only half facing the cupboard, ready to turn and run at a moment’s notice. When she got within arm’s reach she stood still and held her breath in anticipation. And that’s when Sora burst out of the closet behind her, roaring maniacally. She tried to run, squealing, but tripped on her too-long pantlegs and summersaulted across the floor, coming to a stop just in front of Kanna.
That’s where Sora tagged her. And that’s where Sana remained, frozen, for the rest of the game. She couldn’t think of a better way to spend her waking time before she went back under, frozen and dreaming between the stars.