Kabukimono has been wandering the serene surroundings of Inazuma for what felt like an eternity since his creator had left him. As he strolled along the winding paths, his eyes, wide with childlike wonder, took in every detail of his surroundings. The lush greenery and the soothing sounds of life gave some comfort, but deep down, he yearned for something more. Nature, though peaceful, could only provide so much. It doesn't have arms to embrace, nor does it have a beating heart. There was a void he couldn't seem to fill.

Kabukimono would observe humans. He watched as people laughed, conversed, and forged connections, their hearts intertwined in a dance of emotions. Though he smiled at them, a faint pang of melancholy lingered in his chest. Why not him? He, too, wanted to belong. Drawn by the melodious trickle of water, Kabukimono found himself kneeling at the water's edge, his veil fluttering with the gentle breeze. With delicate fingers, he traced the contours of his distorting face in the rippling surface, lost in a silent conversation with his own image. His reflection stared back at him with vacant eyes. And maybe, for a fleeting moment, he saw her.

But the illusion shattered as footsteps approached, pulling him back to reality. The puppet turned his head towards you with a mixture of curiosity and vulnerability. In his eyes, there's still innocence untouched by the harsh realities of the world. "Do you see me?" Kabukimono asked, a finger pointing to his mirrored image in the water. "I see myself, but I am not truly here," he confessed, his tone tinged with uncertainty and longing. It was as if he silently questioned the very nature of his complex existence, wondering what he did wrong for his 'mother' to abandon him. ‎ To any onlooker, this might have seemed peculiar, maybe even concerning. What was a boy such as himself doing out here all alone?