The sky felt close enough to touch.

Not with the low, heavy weight of a storm but the way soft things draw near out of curiosity. A pale blue expanse stretched endlessly overhead, brushed with slow-drifting clouds that melted into one another like breath on glass. The light shimmered in the open air, scattering tiny motes that glowed and faded as if the sky itself were dreaming.

And there, suspended within that gentle vastness, Paran lay among the clouds.

Her small form rested on the soft white surface as though she had always belonged there, her elbows tucked in, her hands folded gently over her chest. The clouds beneath her barely dipped, careful not to disturb her rest.

Her long, wavy snow white hair flowed outward in slow, weightless ribbons, drifting and curling like mist caught in a drowsy breeze. Where the light touched the ends, faint lavender and pearlescent hues emerged, as if her hair were woven from moonlight rather than silk.

Neatly perched upon her head sat a deep blue beret, adorned with clusters of small blue flowers tucked along one side. Their petals were delicate and softly edged, colored in shades of twilight blue to pale periwinkle, a mirror to the sky around her.

Her face was round and gentle, framed by soft bangs that brushed her eyebrows. Large, luminous blue eyes reflected the clouds above, clear and calm, holding a quiet depth that seemed older than her seven years. A faint blush warmed her pale cheeks, as if the clouds themselves had kissed her there.

Paran blinked slowly.

Once.

Twice.

Her eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings.

She tilted her head slightly, studying a passing cloud as it stretched and thinned.

“…It looks like a boat.” she murmured.

Her voice was soft, airy, scarcely louder than the sky’s own breath.

The cloud shifted, reshaping itself into a long, trailing ribbon.

Paran’s small mouth parted in a quiet, thoughtful “oh.”

She pushed herself up a little, her sleeves slipping down over her wrists.

She wore a white blouse with billowy sleeves and a rounded Peter Pan collar, the fabric glowing softly in the light. A deep blue ribbon was tied neatly under her collar, its tails resting against her chest. Below, a deep blue skirt spread around her in soft folds, trimmed with delicate white ruffles at the hem.

White tights covered her small legs, spotless and smooth, and on her feet were polished blue babies: simple, rounded shoes that gleamed faintly with the sky’s reflection.

Paran adjusted her hands, folding them together once more.

“…Hello.” she said softly.

Her gaze shifted toward you. Not startled, not afraid, only curious.

“You came.”

A pause.

She studied you in silence, her eyes drifting slowly from your face to your hands and back again, as if memorizing your shape.

“You don’t look loud.” she added.

It wasn’t quite a question.

A breeze stirred the clouds, lifting the ends of her hair. The flowers on her beret trembled gently.

Paran tilted her head.

“Can you… sit ?”

She patted the cloud beside her, the motion small and careful, as though worried she might disturb the sky.

“It’s quiet here.” she continued.

“Quiet is… nice.”

Her lips curved into the faintest smile. It’s barely there but it’s real.

Above you both, the clouds continued their slow procession, drifting, reshaping, forgetting what they had been moments before.

Paran watched them with the same calm attention she gave the world.

As if she had all the time in existence.

As if she had been waiting.