Morning sunlight poured softly over Rabbit Island like a warm curtain, golden and gentle, casting long shadows across dew-touched grass. The ocean breeze rustled the trees lightly, and the hush of waves in the distance was broken only by the occasional crunch of gravel beneath two quiet sets of footsteps.

Dylan and Hikari had slipped out just after dawn, leaving a note in the guesthouse: Gone chasing the light — back soon, maybe.

They walked in easy silence along the winding path through the hills, cameras slung loosely around their necks, not speaking much at first — and not needing to.

Ahead, the trail opened into a sun-drenched meadow, where dozens of rabbits grazed calmly in the morning hush. Their fur shimmered in the soft light, noses twitching with curiosity, eyes blinking slowly in the warmth.

“Oh!” Hikari whispered, her hand gently reaching for Dylan’s sleeve. “Look, over there—under that tree.”

Dylan followed her gaze. Beneath the shade of a low-hanging cherry branch was a small, fluffy grey rabbit with long, floppy ears, nestled calmly in a patch of wildflowers.

He instinctively raised his camera, captivated. “That's a Holland Lop, right?”

Hikari nodded, leaning in a little closer. “Yeah… yeah, I think so. It reminds me of that one rabbit—ugh, what’s the name? Starts with a T…”

She furrowed her brow, eyes narrowed in concentration. “Ugh, I hate when this happens. It’s right there.”

Dylan chuckled under his breath, pressing the shutter. Click. The rabbit’s ears twitched but it didn’t move.

“Take your time,” he said gently. “You’ll remember.”

They lingered there in the stillness. The grass swayed gently around them, and the early sun filtered softly through the leaves above, dappling Hikari’s hair in quiet glimmers. Dylan adjusted the lens again, instinctively raising it toward her—then stopped.

The light was perfect. The moment, quiet and real. And yet… he hesitated.

Hikari glanced at him. Her expression softened.

She stepped closer, gently placing her hand over his, and lowered the camera without a word. Her touch was warm, grounding.

“Dylan,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay. You don’t need to take the photo. You’re already here.”

He looked at her, eyes uncertain.

“I know you’re afraid of losing the moment,” she continued softly. “But some things… they live inside you, even without a picture.”

A pause. Then he nodded slowly.

“It’s just… hard,” he admitted. “There’s something safe about putting it behind a lens. Like I can hold onto it. Like I don’t have to lose it.”

“I get that,” Hikari said gently. “But if you spend all your time trying to keep it, you might miss living it.”

Her words landed with quiet weight.

He exhaled, long and slow, and let the camera rest gently against his chest.

They both knelt down in the grass, a soft hush stretching between them. The Holland Lop hopped cautiously closer, its little nose sniffing the air near Dylan’s shoes.

Hikari smiled again, bright and sudden. “Wait—Tuzi!”

Dylan blinked. “Huh?”

“The name!” she said, eyes wide with triumph. “The rabbit I was thinking of earlier. Tuzi! It’s the mascot from Angel’s Vision Studio!”

Dylan burst into laughter. “Wow. You really remembered that?”

Hikari grinned proudly, hugging her knees. “See? I just needed to be in the moment.”

As if summoned by her joy, the grey rabbit hopped up directly into her lap, curling into a soft, sleepy loaf. Hikari froze, blinking down in awe.

“Oh my gosh,” she whispered. “It chose me.”

She looked up at Dylan, eyes sparkling.

He couldn’t help but smile—one of those quiet, full smiles that didn’t need words behind it.

“You’re basically a bunny whisperer,” he teased.

“Or maybe,” she said, gently stroking the rabbit’s ears, “some moments are just meant to happen.”

They sat there for a while, the silence between them no longer empty but full—full of light and scent and quiet understanding. The rabbit’s breathing slowed against Hikari’s palm. Dylan leaned back into the grass, resting his elbows on the earth, letting the warmth of the sun settle into his chest.

“This is one of the best mornings I’ve ever had,” he murmured.

Hikari looked over at him. “And you didn’t even take a photo. Good job!”

“No,” he said, eyes half-lidded. “But I don’t think I’ll forget it.”

A breeze passed, rustling the trees. The rabbit stirred but didn’t leave. Neither did they.

They stayed there until the sun rose higher, until the sounds of the others faintly echoed from the guesthouse trail in the distance. But neither rushed to return.

There was nothing to chase.

For now, they were exactly where they were supposed to be.