RaRa

RARA

Kaien didn't know why, but all the furballs kept looking at one of their own—a small one who stood slightly ahead of the rest. It was as though they recognized him as their leader. Their wide, gleaming eyes shone with pride, though Kaien couldn't understand the reason.

He let his shoulders slump, voice low and self-mocking. "Well, I thought I finally made some friends... looks like I made a mistake again," he murmured, half-expecting a response even though he knew he wouldn't get one.

When none came, Kaien looked away, trying to hide the flicker of vulnerability in his gaze—one he'd grown too used to. Or maybe, deep down, he feared seeing a gaze he already knew too well: rejection.

"Um... anyway, it's okay if you're angry with me." His head dipped. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have touched your... glowing balls, or whatever they are. That was rude of me... really."

Silence.

A moment passed. Kaien kept his eyes averted, pretending to study the cracked stone beneath his feet, trying to mask the sting of being misunderstood again.

Then, the sound of soft bouncing interrupted the quiet.

"Rara."

Kaien looked up.

The furball who stood first in line had stepped forward. It bowed its fuzzy head, presenting a small black stone in its paw—if it could be called that, since it had no discernible fingers.

Kaien blinked in confusion as he watched the others follow. Each reached into a tiny pouch-like fold in their stomachs and produced similar stones—glossy, pitch-black, and just smaller than his palm. Faint white streaks shimmered along their surfaces like the trails of falling stars across a night sky.

"Wait, how did you guys even fit those in there?" Kaien scratched his chin, frowning in thought. "You all jumped on me, and I didn't feel anything."

The leader tilted his head—well, more like his entire body—to the right. "Rara."

One by one, the rest copied him, tilting right in perfect sequence while repeating the same sound.

Kaien chuckled. "Oh well. It's okay, I guess." He tried to reassure them with a smile, and they moved forward again.

His gaze settled on the furball pushing its glowing stone toward him, still bowing respectfully.

"Um… do you want me to take it?"

He reached out slowly, uncertain whether this was truly a gift or some kind of ritual. As his fingers closed around the stone, a hush fell over the gathering.

And then—phwoosh—their eyes began to glow, all fixed upon the object in his hand. Yet the one who had offered it remained bowing.

Kaien's brow furrowed. He didn't understand what was happening or what the stones were meant to signify. The little one beside him bounced excitedly, as if cheering.

His mind spun in circles trying to make sense of their strange yet affectionate behavior, but all he could think was—

'Why are they so cute?'

He ruffled his messy hair, which had grown long enough to obscure his ears and eyes, the back portion braided secured with a simple metal clasp.

Some time passed as Kaien sat cross-legged, now using his finger to draw crude doodles of the creatures in the dust-covered ground. Alongside them, he began writing fragments of his story—scattered thoughts etched like a caveman leaving behind his tale.

"So... they're like fluffy orbs with stubby limbs and glowy antennae. And now they're giving me weird black stones... but they're not going anywhere—"

He froze mid-sentence. A flicker of realization darted through his mind like a candle flaring back to life.

"Wait a second," he muttered, eyes widening. "Doesn't that mean... they want something from me too?"

He sprang to his feet and rushed to the large stone under which he had hidden his belongings. One by one, he began inspecting them, murmuring to himself while pointing.

"Mother said—always return a favor. How did I forget that? Okay, let's see what I have."

Squatting down, he began to list aloud. "Mother's blanket... my flute... three dried corns..." He glanced at the staff leaning on the stone and sighed. "...and a wooden stick."

His expression dimmed.

"I have nothing good to give you guys."

Still crouching, he reached for the corn he'd been keeping at his belt. "How about this?" He held it out toward the creatures. "Do you want it?"

Not one of them moved.

Instead, the same furball from before bounced forward again. "Rara!"

Kaien looked at the corn, then back at the creature. "So... not this either." He tucked it back into his belt with a defeated sigh. "That's fair. These are way too dry. Your teeth might hurt if you eat them."

As if sensing his disappointment, the entire group waddled forward and gently placed their stones in front of him—each one offered with the same glowing sincerity, like small gifts meant to lift his spirits.

Kaien blinked.

They didn't want anything in return.

Not even a thank-you.

His lips curved into a small, awestruck smile. "You guys... really understand me, don't you?" he whispered, touched by their empathy.

With a hesitant hand, he reached out and patted one of them gently. The glowing orb on its head pulsed brighter at his touch, and it immediately started bouncing around him in happy circles.

Kaien blinked. His brows pulled together.

He glanced at the creature, then down at his hand.

"…No way."

To test his theory, he reached out and touched the orb of another one. The moment his fingers brushed against the glow, the furball let out a delighted "Rara!" and began hopping excitedly.

A grin spread across his face.

"I knew it," Kaien said under his breath, then moved from one to the next, patting each glowing antenna with careful affection.

Each time, the creature erupted into playful bouncing, a soft chorus of "Rara" rising in joyful unison. After a few minutes, Kaien was finally spent, falling flat onto his back with a soft thump, surrounded by a sea of warm, fuzzy bodies.

They all curled around him, soft and weightless, their gentle purring vibrating against his arms and chest.

Kaien's eyelids grew heavy.

A strange warmth filled his chest—something he hadn't felt in years. A comforting weight rested on him now, not just from their tiny bodies, but from something deeper. A sense of safety. Belonging.

Sleep—a thing that had eluded him since the death of his father—finally came, cradling him in its arms.

Just before drifting off, a thought tried to claw its way back to him.

"Wait… why did I come here again…?" he mumbled softly, his voice thick with drowsiness. "I was looking for something… wasn't I…?"

But the memory blurred like ink in water, dissolving in the warmth of the moment.

"Why did I…?"

His whisper faded, carried away by the wind through the ruins.