Once upon a time, there were two Raposa. They were a boy and girl, no more than 7 years old. They would agree a story starting with "once upon a time" would be too fantastical and cliche, but they wouldn't really mind. Fantastical was their thing, after all. They were as childish and friendly as childhood friends could be, always playing by themselves, no matter the audience. The rest of their village was the audience; and they were the performers. But not literally—regardless, while they may not have been actors, they sure played their part.
One day, the girl wanted to play with the boy, like they always would. Now, this day wasn't like any other day. This day was a summer's eve: the day when the schoolhouse would finally close for the days to come, and when the two could finally play for as long as they wanted! It was simply that; a regular Summer's Eve, where nothing could go wrong.
"Wilfre! Wilfre, where are you?" the girl called out, her black dress fluttering in the soft wind. She was the more outgoing one of the two, despite both being considered sociable. The truth was, as much as they both liked to be childish and friendly, the boy was much more subdued than his partner. When he wasn't spending time with her, he spent most of his days toiling at his books, making sure there was no word or sentence or page left behind. He was a reader—an advanced one for his age.
"Huh? Wilfre?" she called out again. She was nearing the forest. Her father told her never to go into the forest, else her fate could be added to the long list of tall tales told in the books. Books her friend would probably get to read. Would he miss her? Of course he would, she thought, he's my bestest best friend! And she knew she'd find him eventually. She always—
"Circi—!?"
Oh. She bumped into him. But at least she managed to find him, so she didn't need to cry. She just needed to smile! And then he would smile, and then once they were both smiling they could play for as long as they wanted! Even if he was reading a book, perhaps he was just about to finish it, and then they could play! She loved it when he was ready to play. It was time better spent than waiting for him to finish a book anyhow.
"Wilfre! Are you ready to play with me now? You know we don't have boring assignments to do anymore, right?"
He didn't seem to react. He just looked up from his book as he prepared to close it, without a single word said. This didn't make her worried—instead, she became curious. What was it that made him silent? Was it because she bumped into him. If so, she was ready to apologize—but she wouldn't show her worry. Then, finally, he spoke.
"You almost made me drop my book."
...Granted, that was to be expected. He didn't like it when people interrupted him when he read, let alone made him potentially lose his progress and have to start all over. Sometimes she felt that way as well, though she always tried not to let it get to her. Inside and out, she was a carefree, happy child who cherished her closest friends. And she knew deep down, he was like that too.
"I know...but you didn't! So it's okay! And...you still want to play with me, right?" she asked, briefly glancing at the book he was holding. The cover was a grayish brown, and she couldn't read the writing on it. She knew he was smarter than her anyway. Maybe he could tell her. And finally, after what seemed to be an hour of tension...
"Sure."
...he finally played along. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Everything turned out okay, and now they could play together, just like always. After all, nothing could go wrong on a regular summer's eve.