Chapter 1: Prologue – The Precious Existence of My Beloved Dog 

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I, Melodia Nonoir, had a memory I just couldn’t forget.

On a rainy day 11 years ago. I was 7 years old and I was on my way after an errand when I found a brown puppy. For some reason, he was sitting on a puddle and he was shivering all over. I took the dog home. He was covered with mud all over his body and he looked really weak. 

I thought my parents would be mad at me for picking up a dog on my own without telling them first but to my surprise, they didn’t stare at me in disapproval. Instead, they told me to quickly give the dog a bath as soon as possible. 

I boiled hot water and washed the dog in a basin. After all the mud was gone, I realized the dog was actually a white dog. Up until now, I hadn’t seen his eyes yet since he looked too weak to even open his eyes but now that he was all cleaned up, he finally opened his eyes, revealing a pair of beautiful blue orbs. 

The dog was still weak and so, I nursed him earnestly with all of my might. And then, three days later, he finally regained his health. After getting my parents’ permission, I decided to keep the dog. I named him ‘Fulmoff’ and loved him with all my heart. 

Fulmoff was wary of me at first but since I had nursed him the best I could and grew closer to him, he finally responded to me with a ‘woof’ when I called his name. We did everything together, from bathing, to sleeping and to playing. We were inseparable. 

“Fulmoff, we will always be together forever!”

I had said that but as it turned out, my life with Fulmoff only lasted for a month. He had taken off his collar, which was still loose on him and ran away. My parents and I searched for him everywhere. We also put on missing dog posters but in the end… We still couldn’t find Fulmoff. 

I cried, cried, cried and cried. And yet… No matter how much I cried, Fulmoff never returned. 

Fulmoff’s sudden farewell was like a drop of ink on a pure white sheet. The stain pierced deep and could never disappear. 

Even after 11 years had passed, whenever I saw a pure white dog, I couldn’t help but stare and wondered whether they were my Fulmoff or not. I just couldn’t stop this habit of mine. 

I wonder where’s my Fulmoff? But… I’m very happy for him if he’s still alive and living his life happily. 

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