The White Ghost and Toku flew high above the endless sky.
The White Ghost sat quietly upon Toku's head, his small figure shining softly under the warm sunlight.
Around them, clouds glowed in shades of white and blue, and in those clouds, great cloud whales swam peacefully — their enormous bodies reflecting sunlight like drifting rivers of stars.
The whales moved gracefully, their trails glowing silver and gold, leaving behind ripples of mist that shimmered like falling starlight.
The White Ghost's silver-white hair fluttered gently in the wind as he watched them, eyes filled with calm wonder.
Toku's great body glided smoothly through the air, cutting through clouds like a blade of serenity.
They flew closer to the cloud whales, and Toku slowed down, hovering in the middle of the heavenly herd.
The whales, curious and gentle, circled around them.
The White Ghost smiled faintly and touched his bracelet.
From within, he drew a small, pure-white flute.
He adjusted his posture on Toku's head, crossed his legs softly, closed his eyes for a moment — and began to play.
The first note echoed across the clouds like a drop of light falling into still water.
The flute sound was soft and gentle, filled with peace.
Each sound spread through the air like silver ripples, touching the hearts of all who heard it.
The whales began to swim closer, surrounding Toku and the White Gost in a slow, elegant circle.
None of them made a sound — they simply moved gracefully, listening, their enormous eyes reflecting the White Gost's pure white form and the divine song.
Some of the whales rose high above them and released streams of star-like mist — glowing rain of blue and white light falling gently around.
The world turned ethereal, divine.
The sunlight broke into colors, scattering through the star-rain, and the air filled with peaceful brilliance.
It was a paradise above the clouds.
As the melody deepened, everything around began to transform illusion.
"Toku body fadded and change to massive mountain."
At the top of the mountain stood a massive tree, its leaves shimmering like starlight.
Beneath that tree, a small figure appeared — the White Ghost himself, sitting upon a stone under the sacred branches.
His face was clear, calm, and beautiful — his hair silver-white, his eyes a soft blend of sunlight and sky.
The pure white flute rested upon his lips as he played, eyes closed in peace.
His robes glowed faintly, divine and untouchable.
Around him, the clouds changed to rivers of stars, and the whales turned into holy maidens dancing in circles around the tree and the god beneath it.
Everywhere, silver lotuses bloomed upon shining waters, and the air shimmered with butterflies of light.
Swans of pure white glided above, their feathers drifting like quiet blessings.
The sound of the flute mixed with the whisper of rivers, wind, and wings — creating a melody of creation itself.
The white god opened his eyes.
They glowed softly, merging the colors of sunlight and sky.
He looked around — the world was perfect, endless, peaceful.
Then, he closed his eyes once more.
When he opened them again — everything returned to normal.
The tree, the maidens, the lotuses — all vanished.
The divine image faded, and once again he was just the White Gost sitting on Toku's head.
The White Ghost looked around — the cloud whales still surrounded him and Toku, unmoving for a moment, as if remembering the sound of the flute.
Then they began to hum softly, their deep, gentle tones expressing joy and gratitude.
The whales sang in their own way, sounding like a thousand heartbeats of the sky.
The White Ghost smiled, quietly touched by their kindness.
But suddenly —
A loud roar burst out from behind him, echoing like thunder.
The air shook, clouds scattered apart, and the White Ghost almost slipped from Toku's head.
When he regained his balance, he saw —
Toku had accidentally roared too loudly.
The shockwave blew away the surrounding clouds and the beautiful whales.
The White Gost was speechless.
"Tokuuu!" he shouted, his voice echoing.
Toku froze, realizing his mistake — divine, but childish.
He had only wanted to show his happiness, but his joy had turned into destruction.
The White Gost sighed deeply.
He patted Toku's head and said helplessly,
"Let's just go home."
Toku lowered his body and began descending slowly.
The sunlight followed them down, and the sky behind turned quiet once again.
The whales had gone, but the song still lingered faintly in the wind — like the whisper of a dream that never fades.
Somewhere the sunlight spread its brightness across the sky, washing over the mountains and flowing along the rivers.
A peaceful atmosphere filled the entire land. Countless rivers gathered and poured into a vast lake, and at its very center rested a beauty so calm that even sound seemed afraid to exist.
In the center of the lake, a fairy boat floated silently.
The entire boat was covered in snow-white silver cloth, shining softly under the light.
At the heart of the boat stood a large room. Inside it was a round dining table, with beds placed neatly at all corners.
Pure snow-white curtains completely surrounded the room, closed on all sides, moving gently with the breeze.
At one corner of the boat sat a middle-aged man, leaning back in a chair.
His right hand supported the side of his head, while his left hand held a fishing rod, its line cast quietly into the water.
He wore plain dark-gray clothes. His hair was black, his face clean and smooth, without a beard.
His eyes were closed, and though his appearance was that of an ordinary handsome man, there was something uniquely calm about him.
Suddenly, the fishing rod began to shake.
The man slowly opened his eyes.
With his left hand, he steadied the rod and allowed the line to move. Beneath the surface, the fish fought fiercely, pulling fast through the water, refusing to give up.
The man showed no urgency. His gaze rested calmly on the lake, his expression peaceful.
He raised his right hand and grasped the fishing rod, lifting it higher.
The rod bent slightly as he drew it upward, and soon the fish broke the surface of the water.
It struggled desperately, twisting and splashing, trying to escape the hook.
The man looked at the fish without blinking.
His eyes were steady, calm, and clear — fixed on the fish as it fought again and again.
After countless struggles, the fish finally freed itself.
The hook slipped loose, and the fish fell back into the lake, disappearing beneath the surface.
The man watched the entire scene in silence.
He made no move to recapture it, no effort to pull the line again.
He simply observed, calmly, as the water returned to stillness —
as though this outcome had always been enough.