"A spark of imagination awakens —
and the line between writer and puppet begins to blur."
The story begins with a boy in a hurry — breakfast in his hand, rushing to school.
School isn't far away, just a few minutes — so why is he always late?
"Why are you always late?" his classmate asked.
He just said, "Nothing," and kept running.
After classes, at lunchtime… everyone was smiling, talking.
He sat alone, a stressed expression on his face, head resting on the desk.
"Oh, what should I write?...
I know if there are people who like my words, they'll appreciate them.
But those who don't — they'll ignore.
I shouldn't stress about it… I should just write… or maybe…"
Phew… (He sighed.)
"It's also me who's empty-minded here…"
Then he heard a noise — a sound that gave him an idea for a new beginning.
"Oh, you know, I bought a new doll…" his class's girl group was talking.
A doll... a puppet...
The boy's head lifted slightly.
"Wait. Should I write about this?" he said to himself.
"Yeah. You should."
A voice.
He heard it — but no one had said it.
Silence.
He was scared. His heart started to beat faster for a moment.
"Wait… what was that?" he murmured softly to himself.
But then, he ignored it — and began to write.
He opened the page of his notebook.
The pen touched the paper.
A messy prose-style paragraph formed — a boy with a spark in his eyes — he was writing.
It didn't feel like he was writing an essay or an ordinary story.
The feeling, the spark — it said:
It's like he's writing a letter to someone.
A letter to someone who belongs to him,
yet feels impossible to reach —
as if no matter how he writes, he can't give enough.
It felt like this.
His pose, his way of writing — it felt like a theorist chasing a new idea,
or a man writing to someone who's leaving soon,
knowing he'll be too late to say what he wants to say.
Then, the story appeared:
"Once upon a time, there was a castle for puppets,
made by a tribe of puppeteers to stay united as one.
But among them was a puppet with an exceptional charm —
an elegance in his eyes.
The undeniable spark.
The masters saw it — a spark of fortune.
A whisper of light beneath the shining sun.
The puppet…
it could make you the one you dream of.
Then, a voice —( dark, heavy) —
'Don't you wanna be zero to a millionaire?'"
The eyes of the puppet flickered.
He took his first breath — but within the very first fear
but how could he, when he was never alive to begin with?
Within that trembling feeling,
something was born —
the haunting spark of a story that had only just begun.
____ chapter 1 ends ____