They were no longer bustling teeneragers, or rosy-cheeked children running amongst other children wielding wooden sticks and kicking up dirt - no longer was it the times in which they could go about playing soccer until the sun settled down. The grass-stained knees and dirty socks - robots and kites and paper lanterns and broken crayons - all memories. Time grew on them, and it showed. They weren't young anymore  

- but they weren't old yet either.