DOA

VILLIAN

"Villains!"

The answer came from the two boys standing on either side of the worktable.

Their voices rang through the basement in perfect unison.

At the sliding door, Mr. Rutherford and Mrs. Gading stopped in their tracks. They had just arrived carrying refreshments for the children, only to be greeted by a declaration that sounded rather alarming coming from a group of ten-year-olds.

"Villains...?" Mrs. Gading repeated.

She set the tray on the table beside her daughter before reaching down and lifting Doa into her arms. Her expression remained composed, although the corners of her mouth twitched as she tried to understand what she had just heard.

"Doa, Hell, and Demon," she asked gently, "why do you want to become villains, sweetheart?"

Doa tilted her head.

"Why not, Mom?"

Mrs. Gading blinked.

It was not quite the answer she had expected.

Meanwhile, Demon had turned to face Hell, his expression once again growing suspicious.

"Why are you copying us, Hell?"

Hell looked equally offended.

"I'm not copying you. I was the one who wanted to become a villain first. Did you forget?"

"No, you weren't!"

"Yes, I was!"

"You're lying!"

"I'm not!"

Their argument threatened to become louder than the rain drumming against the basement windows, but neither boy seemed willing to surrender the distinction of having invented their extraordinary ambition first.

Mrs. Gading glanced at her husband, silently inviting him to explain what was happening.

Mr. Rutherford, however, was watching Doa.

"Why do you want to become a villain, little one?" he asked.

Doa considered the question with the solemnity of someone who had been asked to explain a perfectly reasonable decision.

"Because villains are strong."

She raised her chin slightly.

"They never seem to cry, and they live for a very, very long time."

Her gaze shifted between her parents, searching their faces for confirmation.

"Right, Mom? Right, Dad?"

Mr. Rutherford was kneeling in front of her, adjusting the silver chain around her ankle. His fingers paused briefly against the clasp.

He and his wife had always done everything they could to ensure their only daughter never lacked love or affection. Although his profession frequently carried him far from home, Mr. Rutherford had never allowed the distance to diminish his devotion to her. Whenever he returned, he made a point of spending time with Doa, listening to her stories, answering her endless questions, and giving her the affection she had missed during his absence.

And Doa, the little girl who carried such an unusual name, had grown up in a loving home, surrounded by people who cherished her.

She had never been neglected. She had never needed to compete for her parents' attention. Her childhood was filled with toys, books, delicious meals, and friends who lived close enough to visit whenever they pleased.

Yet, somehow, she had developed a dream unlike that of almost any other little girl her age.

A villain.

Mr. Rutherford exchanged a glance with his wife. Neither of them seemed to know whether they ought to laugh or take the matter seriously.

Before either parent could offer an answer, Wolf's voice rang out again.

"Come on, Doa! Let's go check on our rabbits!"

The word rabbits immediately settled the matter.

"Okay! Okay, let's go!"

Doa wriggled in her mother's arms, eager to get down and follow her friends. The rabbits had been a gift from Mr. Panji, Wolf's father, and the children had become so attached to them that visiting the animals had turned into a daily ritual whenever the weather permitted.

"Doa, wait a moment."

Mr. Rutherford stopped her before she could hurry toward the door.

"I've finished fixing your ankle chain. It shouldn't feel tight anymore."

He sat cross-legged on the floor and gently guided her foot toward him. The silver chain had been bothering Doa for some time, and he had noticed the discomfort earlier. Rather than letting her run around with it digging into her ankle, he had taken the opportunity to adjust the clasp.

"If it ever feels tight again, just move it forward like this, okay?" he explained, showing her how to shift the chain into a more comfortable position. "Can you do that?"

Doa watched carefully before nodding.

"Thank you, Dad. That's too easy for me."

Then, without warning, she threw her arms around his neck.

Mr. Rutherford went still for a moment before returning the embrace, one hand resting gently against her back.

It was their first hug since his return from the expedition that had kept him away for nearly a year. For a little girl who had spent so much time counting the days until her father came home, the moment was worth more than all the treasures in the basement.

Doa pulled away with a bright smile and hurried toward the others.

Clang!

Her foot struck the bronze statue standing near the entrance.

She stumbled forward, her arms flailing as she struggled to regain her balance. Before she could fall, Demon caught her hand and pulled her upright.

"Watch where you're going, i***t!" he scolded.

Doa blinked at him.

"I'm okay."

"Of course you're okay. I caught you."

Demon sounded annoyed, but he did not release her hand. When he noticed that her shoe had slipped loose, he crouched down without another word and carefully put it back on her foot.

"Does it hurt?"

Doa shook her head.

"No."

"Then be careful next time."

She smiled at him, and his frown gradually disappeared.

A moment later, the two children clasped hands and followed Hell, Soma, and Wolf toward the field, their laughter blending with the sound of rainwater dripping from the eaves.

"Don't run, Doa! Demon!" Mrs. Gading called after them.

But the children were already halfway across the yard, too excited about their rabbits to pay much attention.

Mr. Rutherford watched them disappear beyond the doorway, while his wife stood beside him with a fond, helpless smile.

For the moment, their daughter's dream of becoming a villain could wait.