Mumu trudged through the thin layer of snow that blanketed the clearing around Dama's cabin, his movements steady despite the chill in the air. Even if he could feel it though, the fur on him would keep him warm.

  Cradled in Mumu's arms, Dama clutched a small stack of papers—Tsubasa’s handwritten notes on caring for and teaching Giona. The cold nipped at his exposed hands, but he hardly noticed, his focus fixed on the written instructions.

  His eyes scanned the pages, absorbing the details: basic lessons, feeding schedules, and even a section on bathing, which made his cheeks flush with discomfort. Bathing her? Dama cringed at the thought, wondering how he could manage such a thing without feeling awkward.

  However, his internal turmoil eased slightly as he reached the bottom of the page, spotting Tsubasa’s playful note: "Do not worry, I’ll try my best to come up as often as I can to help with Giona’s recovery. In the meantime, I’m counting on you! P.S. Don’t go and get too attached; we don’t know if humans can become familiars~!"

  The smiley face at the end felt like a teasing jab, causing Dama to sigh deeply and sink further into Mumu’s hold, his self-consciousness growing.

  Suddenly, Mumu came to an abrupt halt. Startled, Dama sat up straighter in his arms and looked around. To his relief, they had already arrived at the cabin.

  The familiar wooden structure stood quietly in the snow, its windows glowing with the light from within. Dama exhaled softly, the moisture from his mouth visible in the air, grateful to be back. He tucked the papers securely under his arm and glanced up at Mumu, who gave him a reassuring smile.

  “Thanks, Mumu!” Dama murmured, patting his companion on the shoulder.

  Mumu nodded as he adjusted his grip, allowing Dama to slide down and hop off onto the snow. His boots made a soft crunch as they hit the ground. Without hesitation, Dama made his way to the cabin door, his hand reaching for the handle.

  Halfway there, he froze, his hand lingering in mid-air. His sudden pause caught Mumu's attention, who tilted his head in silent curiosity.

  Dama stood still for a moment, his thoughts swimming. Then, he turned and stepped over to the front window. Peering inside, his breath caught.

  There, on the bed, was Giona. She was fast asleep, the well-worn 'Tales of the Cataclysm' resting open on her lap. Her delicate figure looked peaceful, her head nestled on top of Nini, who had curled herself protectively around her. Nini's tail wrapped snugly around Giona's side, her ears twitching ever so slightly in her own sleep.

  Dama's face softened, a warm smile spreading across his lips. The sight before him felt like a perfect, unspoken promise of comfort and safety—the exact environment Giona needed.

  Behind him, Mumu stepped closer, craning his neck to see what had caught Dama's attention. Upon seeing the tranquil scene, even Mumu’s expression gave way to a content smile.

  For a moment, neither of them moved, basking in the quiet serenity of the moment, the soft glow of the cabin's light spilling out onto the snowy ground beneath their feet.

  Dama then turned to Mumu, who tilted his head in response, awaiting his command. With a mischievous grin, Dama raised a finger to his lips in a universal gesture for silence. Mumu gave an understanding nod, his expression now calm as ever.

  Cut to Dama carefully gripping the cabin door handle, inching it open as quietly as possible. The soft creak of the hinges made his heart skip a beat, but he was relieved when the outside world cooperated, the snow muffling even the faintest ambient noises.

  Inside, Giona's gentle snores were a soothing melody, far softer than he expected.

  When the door was finally wide enough for Mumu to fit through, Dama stepped aside, allowing the larger companion to duck inside first. Following him, Dama eased the door shut with painstaking care, wincing at every tiny sound the latch made.

  Once inside, the two began tiptoeing across the cabin floor. Dama marveled at their luck so far—neither Giona nor Nina had stirred. It surprised him, especially since Nina's sharp senses usually caught everything. Then, a warm thought crossed his mind, "She must feel really safe with Giona. That’s why she’s so relaxed." The realization gave him a comforting, fuzzy feeling inside.

  Lost in his musings, Dama failed to notice where he was stepping. His foot caught on one of the books Nini had accidentally pawed off the shelf earlier.

  The stumble was sudden, and Dama let out a small yelp, his arm flailing to catch his balance. In a flash, Mumu's arms shot out, catching Dama just before he fell. But the quick movement caused the basket of produce on Mumu’s arm to tilt precariously. An apple dislodged, rolling out of the basket and hitting the floor with a muffled thump.

  The silence that followed was heavy, as if the entire room held its breath. Dama and Mumu froze in place, their eyes darting to the bed where Giona and Nini lay. For a moment, neither stirred, and Dama allowed himself a relieved sigh, thinking, "Thank goodness."

  But just as the thought finished, Nini's ears jerked, the sharp motion making Dama's heart sink. Her ears then perked straight up, and her upper body rose slightly from where she was curled around Giona. Her eyes scanned the cabin, her expression alert and curious.

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  Dama held his breath, mentally preparing for Nini to spring into action. Instead, her gaze landed on him and Mumu, recognition washing over her features. Realizing it was her two favorite inidivuals in the world, Nini's tail began to wag uncontrollably, brushing against Giona’s side with each happy swing.

  Dama’s relief was short-lived as he panicked internally. "Oh no, no, no, not the tail!" He thought frantically, his eyes darting to Giona, who began to shift in her sleep.

  (“Nini!”) Dama whispered in a pleading tone, gesturing with his hand as if to calm the stitched fox. But, Nini’s wagging only grew more enthusiastic, her excitement at seeing them impossible to contain.

  Mumu let out a low, amused huff behind Dama, finding the situation entertaining. Meanwhile, Dama could only pray that Giona remained blissfully unaware of their not-so-stealthy entrance.

  Dama’s worst fears came true as he saw Giona moving. Her small hand rubbed at her eyes while she mumbled sleepily, “Nini…”

  Dama froze, his expression becoming even more awkward as Giona opened her eyes. Her first sight was Nini, who turned towards her with a big, happy expression, tail still wagging energetically. Giona blinked, then followed Nini’s previous gaze to the source of her excitement.

  Her eyes landed on the utterly ridiculous scene: Dama hunched over with a panicked, almost comical grimace on his face, Mumu looming behind him with one hand outstretched like a frozen statue, the basket of produce tilted precariously on his arm.

  Giona simply stared blankly, her groggy mind processing what she was seeing. As the absurdity of the situation sank in though, a small smile crept onto her lips, quickly growing into something more.

  First, it was soft giggles, but it didn’t take long before she was clutching her stomach, letting out full-blown laughter that echoed through the cozy cabin.

  Dama’s face turned bright red, his embarrassment amplified by Giona’s infectious laughter. Even Mumu couldn’t hold back another quiet huff of amusement, his stoic face softening as his tail swished once behind him.

  “Ah, come on!” Dama finally whined, throwing his hand in the air. “It’s not that funny!”

  But his protest only made Giona laugh harder, her face lighting up in a way that made Dama momentarily forget his mortification. Seeing her so carefree and happy warmed his heart, and he found himself smiling despite the situation.

  Nini, now fully swept up in the cheerful atmosphere, hopped onto the floor to nuzzle against Giona’s side, as if encouraging her to keep laughing.

  “Alright, alright, laugh it up..." Dama grumbled, though his tone lacked any real annoyance. He glanced at Mumu, who gave him a knowing look, and together they relaxed, letting the warmth of Giona’s laughter fill the cabin.

  Giona laughed so hard that tears streamed down her face. She wiped them away with the back of her hand, her chest still shaking with the aftershocks of her laughter.

  As she opened her eyes and saw Dama and Mumu untangling themselves and straightening up, her laughter began to subside. A new feeling settled over her—a warm, unfamiliar sensation of relief. They were finally back—she missed them.

  “Dama...” she started softly, her voice carrying a warm smile.

  But her words caught in her throat as her gaze landed on something in the basket Dama brought back: the marionette doll.

  Its wooden frame and purple-white painted scheme was nestled among the produce, holding her eyes captive. Giona's breathing hitched as her focus locked onto the mask it wore—a mask that was painfully familiar.

  The marionette doll’s mask wasn’t painted onto its face but rather a separate, eerie piece crafted with unsettling precision. Its white surface gleamed faintly in the dim light, its features carved into a visage of sorrowful mystery.

  The eye slots were shaped like upward crescent moons, evoking a mournful sadness that somehow felt deeply personal.

  The mouth slot, an almost sympathetic frown, gave the mask a tragic air, as if the doll itself carried a story too heavy to tell. Purple streaks ran from the corners of the crescent eyes, curving downward to the chin like painted tears, adding to the haunting impression.

  Giona’s breath hitched as she began to realize why is was so recognizable—it was the same as his mask.

  In her mind, the doll’s sorrowful expression twisted, and the man’s image surfaced, a grim specter dragged from the depths of her memory. His mask was identical in design, yet its details carried a visceral brutality.

  The upward crescent moons for eyes, though shaped the same, didn’t just suggest sadness—they bore a hollow anguish. The slots, black voids like the doll’s, seemed to swallow light, concealing his eyes and mouth entirely while letting nothing of his humanity escape.

  The purple streaks, which were merely painted on the doll’s mask, were mirrored on his—but with rusted trails of crimson running alongside them, dried and cracked like old scars. They trickled down from the crescent eyes, mingling with the streaks as if the mask itself had wept blood for centuries.

  The mouth’s sympathetic frown, while pitiable on the doll, was twisted into something far more sinister on him—a gaping chasm of silent malice.

  The cracks along its surface, exposing decaying wood beneath, hinted at a deep rot, as if the mask itself was alive, feeding on the horrors it had witnessed.

  Giona’s muscles locked as her gaze flicked between the two masks, her vision blurring. The comforting warmth of the cabin melted into suffocating shadows and the cold air of her past crept into her lungs.

  She could feel it. The weight of chains on her wrists, the floor’s icy bite against her bare feet, the pain...

  Through it all, that man had been there. Every time the black-cloaked figures dragged her out, he stood silently in the corner like a harbinger of torment. He never moved, never spoke—but his presence suffocated her, his mask a constant reminder of the hopelessness she had endured.

  What frightened Giona the most, however, was how she instinctively knew he wasn't the danger. No, he was a victim, a child who had their childhood taken by the Soul Divination Council—just like her.

  He and her would the same in that regard, and that's what scared her—they were trying to turn her into him, a soulless puppet to do their bidding. What they wanted her to do and their larger plan was still unknown to her, but she didn't want to think about it—she couldn't, her body too busy locking up in fear.

  Her vision blurred as tears began to form, the past and present beginning to blur alongside with it, dragging Giona into a spiral. Her hands trembled, chin shaking as the shadows in her mind grew darker.

  Then, against all reason, the marionette’s head shifted.

  The lifeless doll tilted its neck with an unnatural creak, the mask’s empty eyes that were a cruel echo of the man's now fixed on her. Giona’s heart stopped for a moment, her lungs refusing to work. The shadows seemed to surge at this point, darkening not only her mind and vision, but also her hope.

  Finally, she screamed.

  The piercing sound shattered the air, raw and filled with terror. Giona dove under the covers, curling herself into a tight ball as if she could hide from the horrors of her mind. Her voice trembled as she whimpered, “No...no…no...”

  She clutched the blankets tightly, her body shaking violently. “I-I... I-I'm sorry,” she choked out between gasps. “Please… no…”

  Dama, Mumu, and Nini froze in place, their expressions shifting instantly from playful to alarmed. The warm, fuzzy atmosphere of the cabin was replaced by an overwhelming tension as Giona's panicked cries filled the air.

  -

  Next: (Extra Chapter 14) Two Dolls