Morning dew still clung to the tips of the leaves, while the scent of damp earth wrapped around the small village slowly waking from its slumber.

Birds chirped in the distance, and Rion’s footsteps splashed softly against the moist dirt path.

He hummed quietly, following the rhythm of the birds’ song — a simple melody born from the morning air. The cool breeze brushed against his skin, leaving a fresh, tingling feeling on his cheeks.

But then his steps came to a halt. Something by the roadside caught his attention — a doll lying half-buried in the wet grass.

It was tall for a doll, handsome-faced, dressed in ornate clothing like a knight from a fairytale kingdom. Its porcelain skin was pale, its eyes closed, and a faint patch of dirt stained the chest of its once-blue uniform.

“Wow…” Rion murmured softly. “This doll looks amazing. The clothes are so detailed… it must be handmade.”

He crouched down for a closer look.
“Cute too, huh… kind of too handsome for a doll, actually.”

Carefully, Rion lifted the doll, brushing off the dirt and mud from its face as if afraid of hurting something fragile.

“It must belong to someone who dropped it,” he thought, smiling faintly.

He then placed the doll beneath the large tree by the road, where it could easily be found by its owner.
“Hope your owner comes back for you soon,” he whispered before continuing on his way.

…….

After school, Rion walked the same path again, the golden hue of the rice fields glowing under the late afternoon sun.
The air still carried the faint, earthy scent from the morning’s dew.

When he reached the tree where he had left the doll, his pace slowed instinctively.
The doll was still there.
Exactly where he had placed it. Untouched. Unmoved.

“Still here, huh…” Rion muttered, a trace of curiosity in his tone.

A sudden gust of wind swept through, shaking the leaves. The air grew colder, and the sky darkened as thick clouds gathered overhead. Distant thunder rumbled, warning of a coming storm.

“Oh, great — rain’s coming,” Rion said quickly.
“I forgot to take my laundry in!”

He was about to run home, but something stopped him.
His eyes drifted back to the doll.

A strange feeling stirred in his chest — a quiet tug of reluctance, as if leaving the doll behind under that gray sky would be wrong.

He sighed softly and looked down.
“Maybe… I’ll just take you with me. Can’t leave you to get soaked out here.”

Gently, he picked up the doll again. Its porcelain skin was cold to the touch — almost like holding snow.
He wiped it down a little and tucked it carefully into his shoulder bag, zipping it closed.

“Just for tonight,” he murmured with a small smile.
“I’ll return you tomorrow.”

Rion began to run, cutting through the drizzle that had started to fall. His footsteps splashed in rhythm with the rain, and the bag on his shoulder felt just a little heavier than usual.