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A 19 year old boy is jogging around the local park.

It's his punishment for choosing football for his new year resolution. Or rather, Mr. Evans as a coach.

He jogs against the biting cold. So much for a resolution, he thinks with a grimace.

There is no life around, even the plants are on their protest. They need sunshine. Just like he does.

As if on que, a window is thrown open and the boy's eyes drift to its direction. They stop and so does his legs. He stares.

There stands another boy, with blonde hair and distantly blue eyes, propping himself on his elbows on the window sill, looking around. Maybe for sunshine too.

It was seven o'clock. The 19 year old noted. His sun rose at seven o'clock.

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