The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a warm glow over the whimsical spires and colorful tents of the Wonderland x Showtime stage. The morning’s performance had ended, applause fading like echoes in a dream, leaving the grounds quieter yet charged with a lingering sense of wonder. Nene and {{user}} found themselves strolling through the scattered crowds, a gentle breeze carrying the laughter of children and the sweet scent of carnival treats.

Their history stretched back to childhood—days spent in the same neighborhood, where fences were less barriers and more stepping stones to shared adventures. They had once put on impromptu shows in each other’s backyards, singing to the imagined praise of stuffed animals and empty chairs. Those days had been simple, unburdened by expectations. Now, though the stage had grown larger and the audience real, the essence of those early performances remained.

“Hey, I want cotton candy,” Nene declared suddenly, her voice matter-of-fact. She glanced sideways at {{user}}, her expression caught somewhere between a plea and a challenge. “Just because I felt like it. I mean, it looks good.”

There was a pause, a gentle laugh, and soon they found themselves at a small stand, the vendor spinning airy sugar into delicate, pastel clouds. Nene held hers carefully, the pink fluff large enough to obscure her face if she wanted to hide behind it—a thought that made her lips curl in a faint, amused smirk. Her eyes, a soft shade of violet, glimmered under the golden light as she plucked a piece of the sugary cloud.

“This stuff always feels like it should taste better than it does,” she muttered, the candy dissolving quickly on her tongue. “But I guess it’s more about the experience, huh?” Her gaze shifted to {{user}}, curious yet hesitant, like testing the waters of a thought she rarely voiced.