"You know…" Zani started, flopping off me and landing in the grass with a dramatic oof, "I love your Japanese accent. And when you speak in Japanese? Chef's kiss."
We both laid flat now, shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the sky like it owed us answers. The clouds drifted lazily above us like they were eavesdropping.
"Sō desu ka?" I murmured, smirking.
("Is that so?")
Zani exploded into laughter—snorty, hyena-level laughter.
"Oh my GOD. Say it again, it's so anime-coded!" she howled.
Then she suddenly sat up and, with great enthusiasm, attempted:
"Watashi wa—uhh—glitter desu…tenshi? No, wait—uh, watashi go brrr like... ramen... hai!"
I choked out a laugh, turning my head to look at her.
"You're murdering my entire language," I said, still laughing.
"Whatttt, I'm trying, okay?! I'm taking online Japanese classes!" she protested, falling back down dramatically.
"Do you pay them? Like, with actual money?" I asked mockingly.
She gasped in fake offense and slapped my stomach.
"Rude!"
We both went quiet again, still smiling at the clouds like they were telling us secrets.
"Remember when you barely smiled, Shin?" she said softly, her voice floating between blades of grass.
I turned my head toward her, the sky still in my eyes.
"Well," I said, "I'm currently under the influence of your madness. I might sue."
She laughed. That beautiful, chaotic laugh.
"You're so funny, Cloud Boy." She turned her head to face me, pointing a lazy finger upward. "Hey—look. That one's you."
I followed her finger.
It was a crooked blob with a little swirl on top.
"That's literally a marshmallow."
"Exactly! Soft. Squishy. Tries to act all stoic but melts instantly when heated."
I scoffed. "Poetic."
She beamed like she'd won an award. "I'm basically Shakespeare."
I looked at her—really looked at her. Her fingers were stained with marker from doodling on her arms earlier. Her cheeks were flushed from the sun, her hair sticking to her face, and her eyes sparkled like she knew how she made people feel and liked to keep it a mystery.
"Hey, Zani," I said.
"Hm?"
"If we don't finish the list..."
"Then we keep adding to it," she said without hesitation. "Even if we don't finish it, it means we lived trying."
She said it like a fact. Like it was a rule carved into her soul.
And that's when I realized—
She wasn't just making the most out of her days.
She was daring death to interrupt her.
It was still noon, the sun soaking everything in a golden haze. The grass felt warm beneath us, the clouds slowly drifting like they had nowhere better to be.
"Ruff! Ruff!"
We both looked up.
Across the field, a tiny golden retriever puppy came tumbling out from behind a bench, ears flopping, tongue out like it was smiling at the entire universe.
Zani turned to me, her eyes lit like fireworks. That dangerous look.
"Shinnnn… you thinking what I'm thinking?" she said, voice low, mischievous, way too excited.
"We never think alike," I said flatly, already bracing for impact.
She smacked my arm.
"Ugh! Killjoy. It's time to tick something off the to-die list, his royal Sung Jin-Woo." She grinned, pointing at the very real, very happy dog.
Then it hit me.
Item #38: Steal a dog (but return it later with a thank-you note).
"You can't be serious."
"Oh, I'm always serious about dumb ideas," she said, already rising to her feet with that glint in her eye—the one that usually led to either incredible memories or detention.
I sat up. "That's someone's actual dog, Zani. Probably chipped. Probably loved. Possibly armed."
She ignored me, already tiptoeing toward it like a cartoon burglar. Her tote bag was slung over her shoulder like a weapon of mass glitter. The dog noticed her, wagged its tail, and sprinted straight to her like she was the main character of its rom-com.
She scooped it up like a baby.
"Oh my GOD, Shin, it loves me. We're spiritually connected," she whispered, cradling the dog. "What if it's my reincarnated great-grandma?"
"You never met your great-grandma."
"Still counts!"
I walked over, rubbing my temples. "And what's your grand plan? We just run off with it like weirdos?"
"Noooo, duh, we take it for the time of its little life. Ice cream, pet store, a crown—maybe a dog spa. Then return it with a handwritten note and snacks."
"Snacks?"
"For the owners," she said, petting the dog. "We're not monsters."
The puppy licked her face, tail going thump thump thump like it had waited its whole life for this nonsense.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," I muttered, as we casually speed-walked out of the park with a stolen dog.
"Believe it, Naruto," Zani said, holding the pup like a trophy. "Operation Royal Dognapping is a GO."
And just like that, the next chaotic chapter of our to-die list began—with glitter in her hair, a burrito stain on my shirt, and a stolen puppy in tow.
We got on the next bus like totally normal law-abiding citizens…with a stolen puppy in Zani's hoodie.
And not just in the hoodie—zipped up, head poking out like it paid rent. The puppy's tongue was out, Zani was grinning like she robbed a bank, and I was just trying not to have a public anxiety attack.
"Zani, people are staring," I whispered.
"They're jealous of our baby," she said, stroking the dog like an evil villain. "What should we name her?"
"Her?"
"She smells like a lady. A stinky lady, but a lady."
"Please stop sniffing the dog."
"Hmm…" she tapped her chin. "I dub thee… Princess Mocha Snuggletail the Third."
I blinked. "What happened to just Mocha?"
"She's royalty. Respect the throne."
---
Stop #1: The Pet Store.
Zani walked in like she owned the place.
"HELLO, GOOD PEOPLE. THIS IS MY DOG. I AM A NORMAL DOG OWNER."
The cashier blinked.
I dragged her away before she could give a fake backstory about how Mocha Snuggletail was rescued from a burning opera house in Venice.
First, we bought a tiara. Not a fake one—a full-on, glittery, bejeweled crown for small dogs. Zani picked a pink tutu, too.
"Zani. This is kidnapping."
"Noooo. This is Disney."
Then came snacks—cheese bites, chicken jerky, a bone the size of my leg.
"Oh, and a brush for you, sad boy," she added. "You're starting to look like an angsty anime protagonist."
"I am an angsty anime protagonist."
---
Stop #2: Dog Spa.
They didn't allow walk-ins.
So naturally, Zani convinced the receptionist we were filming a documentary on emotionally sensitive dogs and their healing journey through aromatherapy.
They believed her.
Thirty minutes later, we're sitting outside the spa, and Mocha Snuggletail was inside getting a bubble bath while classical music played.
Zani leaned against me on the bench, sunglasses on like she was Paris Hilton.
"Today's a good day," she whispered.
"You stole a dog."
"And made her feel like a queen."
I looked at her. "You're gonna be the death of me."
She smirked. "Put it on the list."
---
Later that Evening...
We returned the dog. No trace, no witnesses—just a note that read:
> Dear Sir or Ma'am,
Your dog is a royal icon and deserves a crown.
You're welcome.
Cloud Boy & Glitter Gremlin
Zani slipped it in the mailbox with a drawing of the dog in a princess outfit and we ran away giggling like actual kids.