The sun climbs slowly over the horizon, the faintest rays peeking past the distant skyline. A breeze blows softly over the meadow, faintly brushing past the leaves, filling the air with the soft whispering of rustling leaves. As the sun shines over the fields, so do the meadow's inhabitants.

A single look at the scene fills the body with a sense of renewal, like a breath of fresh air after holding it for so long.

The land is flat and covered in small, thin blades of grass, blowing softly in the wind. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except a solitary hill in the middle of the meadow. Standing on top of the hill is a lone tree blowing in the wind. Under this tree lies a boy, asleep under the stretching branches of a tree, sheltered by its shadow, cast across the landscape. The sun climbs higher in the clear sky, wisps of cloud streaked across, motes of white on a blank blue canvas.

The boy lets out a relaxing sigh, echoing the appreciation of the day that nature had wrought, appreciation of his tranquil life of solitude.

"Hm?"

Despite his isolation, he is not alone in this tranquility. The quiet sounds of footsteps on fresh grass reach his ear, alerting him of an unknown presence. His ears perk up, swiveling ever so slightly to catch the foreign sound. The sound slowly grows louder, each step bringing their bearer closer to his resting place. The boy slowly opens his left eye and sees someone, an unfamiliar figure—one of a girl in a soft blue dress, complimenting the sky above.

As she approaches, the boy notices a faint gleam of sunlight, reflecting off of the silver necklace around her neck. She appears to have a pair of pointy ears atop her head, long black hair cascading down her back, almost reaching her long tail, swinging behind her like a pendulum. In a land so empty of detail, her presence feels like that of a flower, a streak of color across the blank landscape. Though her soft appearance stuns him, her face is turned aside, her eyes avoiding the rays of the climbing sun.

The boy gave a gentle smile to the girl before closing his left eye again.

"Oh, it's you."

The girl remains silent as she sits right next to the boy, who is resting on the soft grass draped across the hill. She rests his head on her lap, and strokes the boy's head, her soft, warm hand slowly traveling across.

"The feeling of touch never tires me, Sheri."

He thumps his tail on the ground in appreciation; the boy, who rests on Sheri's lap, is not human either. Who is he and where did he come from? How did he fall into this form, through luck, misfortune, or planning?

The answers lie within this story. The story of the adventure of the boy named Shouya Kirikage.