Chapter Text
You remember the first time you saw a living doll. It’s one of your earliest memories, vivid and clear despite the distance of time.
You remember your mother’s hand wrapped around yours. The patterns of shadow cast on the sidewalk from the trees above, all swaying softly with the breeze. The smell of the summer air.
And you remember the little girl, older than you but still very much a child. Her hand was not held in her mother’s like yours, but instead that of another little girl. A little girl with bright red yarn hair, her face round and marked with a line down the center, her own hand mitten-like in shape.
"Doll!" You exclaimed, pointing.
Your mother glanced at the two girls.
"Yes honey, a doll," she said, unimpressed.
The girls walked past you then, and the doll waved as she went by. You let out a surprised noise, now hopping more than walking as excitement shot through you. You turned your head to look at the doll girl for as long as possible, before finally the gentle tug on your little hand pulled you too far away.
You had many questions, now.
You didn't have the words to ask most of them, so you settled on the easiest.
"Why big?" None of your dolls at home were that big. You were fairly sure none of them had ever walked around on their own either, but that was one of the more difficult questions to find words for.
"Most dolls get bigger when they come to life," your mother explained.
You were hopping again, jumping excitedly, your energy having grown far too big to be contained in such a small body. You knew it! Just like in the cartoons. Dolls could come to life.
Why hadn't yours?
"I want one!" Your mouth was still clumsy at that age, implying the t on want more than actually pronouncing it.
"You have plenty of toys at home," was your mother's reply. "Maybe if you take good care of them, one will come to life. It takes a very, very long time though. Longer than you are old."
That was a long time.
It was in fact ten years at very least, you would later find out. Often closer to fifteen. A decade or more of constant care, taking a toy with you everywhere you went, playing with it daily. At that age you weren't yet fully aware of the full size of that commitment, but you could at least sense the vastness of it. More years than you were, more time than you could imagine.
Regardless, from that moment forward your little heart was set on one thing and one thing alone- you wanted a doll just like the one you had seen. You wanted a friend like that, not only something that could be played with but someone who would play back. As soon as you got home, you lined up all your toys and chose the one that looked most like the one you'd seen that day- A Raggedy Anne doll. Not an exact match, but close enough in your opinion.
You don't quite remember how long it was before you lost that doll, but you suspect it couldn't have been more than a week. You were very young, and children are prone to losing absolutely anything the moment it leaves their hand. You remember how upset you were when you realized Raggedy Anne was missing, crying and begging your parents to find her, but she was nowhere to be found. No matter how hard you and your parents looked, she was gone. Probably dropped or forgotten somewhere away from home, you had been carrying her everywhere after all.
You tried again, with another doll. You were less attached to this one, wanting any living doll at all more than you really cared about this particular toy. You don't even remember what kind of doll it was now- or was it a stuffed animal of some kind? Either way, you lost that one too. You were more frustrated at the wasted effort than you were upset about the loss of the toy this time.
You're not sure how many times that cycle repeated over the years. You always had one toy or another at your side, but never the same one for long.
Sometimes you'd simply forget about the doll. It's hard for children to keep their own routines consistent without outside guidance. You would get distracted and forget to play with the toy you'd chosen for days, weeks even. By the time you would remember, your effort was wasted again. The clock had reset. Frustrated, you'd choose another toy for your next attempt- only to inevitably forget again.
Sometimes your family would move, as they did several times during your childhood, and the toy you'd been focusing on would end up misplaced in the shuffle of possessions. Some you even left behind on purpose, when space was limited and the number of boxes you were allowed to bring was finite. It was hard to justify leaving behind a more exciting game in favor of some old stuffed animal or another that you'd only been paying attention to for maybe a month.
Sometimes you'd be carrying around a doll for a while only to find it gone one day, donated to charity along with a load of other old toys by your mother. You didn't blame her for not knowing that particular doll was one you'd picked up again recently, it wasn't like you ever managed to keep one around for long.
Eventually your father started telling you that you were too old for dolls. You had to agree with him- you had no interest in playing pretend with dollies and stuffed animals anymore. You didn't want a toy to drag around, you wanted someone who would choose to come with you wherever you went. Someone who would want to come with you as much as you wanted them to come.
But that wasn't going to happen, was it.
You thought about how the other kids would react if you brought a doll with you to school for the new school year. There was no way you'd avoid getting teased for that, especially if you were carrying it around everywhere you went like you were supposed to. Were you really going to keep that up for ten years?
You didn't think you were.
You'd be an adult by then, after all- Something that seemed infinitely far away at that time. It was too late to start over with a new doll now.
The thought still crossed your mind, from time to time. Each time you felt like you had just barely missed your chance. Like last time you'd had that thought had been your last chance and you hadn't realized it, like your last window of opportunity was now far past. Over and over, the same heartbreak of being a little bit too late felt anew.
Maybe it had been a hopeless idea to begin with. As time went on, you came to realize that you were just as bad at holding on to friends as you were to toys. Even if you had managed to bring one to life, then what?
Adulthood wasn't as far away as it had felt. Soon you were there, and you had long since given up on dolls.
That didn't mean your interest in living dolls had gone away though. While you'd long since gotten rid of your childhood toys, you couldn't help but feel that same rush of excitement every time you saw someone with a living doll of their own. Somehow, that feeling was still something that seemed far too big to fit in your body. Something that made it hard to be still.
A man walking his dog, but the dog's paws were too rounded and the shape of the snout was soft. A doll.
An older woman, hair beginning to gray, who's baby was a little too cute and a little too calm to be real. Subtle traces of lines showed where the seams had been on the baby doll.
A young boy, maybe twelve, who was accompanied by a teddy bear that was taller than he was. The bear had a little top hat, comically undersized when compared to the rest of him.
The joy of it, seeing something you had been fascinated with for as long as you can remember.
The bitterness of it. The years of festering disappointment you pretended to ignore.
If someone asked you why you decided to cut through the park that day on your way home from work, you had decided to tell them it was because you wanted the exercise. Something about how you'd heard spending time in green spaces is good for your health. There is no reason anyone would ever ask you that question, but it helps you avoid admitting the real answer to yourself.
A place where people gather to play, often children. Some part of you was always seeking out spaces like that, hoping you might get another chance to see a living doll.
And you do see one.
While some of the more humanoid dolls are hard to tell apart from actual humans at a glance, the gleam of porcelain gives this one away. The elaborate costume is another telltale sign. The doll sits in the grass near a bench, one the path you're on goes directly past. You can get a closer look without having to change course at all.
Though the doll is sitting, you can tell he (you're assuming- he looks like a he, at least) is fairly tall. Human height, maybe a little taller than the average person even. He looks like some sort of jester doll, judging by the clothing. Poofy rose-orange pants, a complex and vaguely floral pattern of gold embroidery reaching up the fabric in lines. A vest that is nearly black, just a hint of warmth coloring it, with two large orange buttons on the front. Long, oversized yellow sleeves from the shirt underneath the vest. His hair is blond and a little messy, curling around a circle of porcelain details that encircle his head.
A little like sun rays, you think. The jester is solar themed, the metallic gold paint on the rays shines with reflected light.
He's in the middle of a conversation you can't quite hear, talking to a woman sitting on the bench proper. The person he belongs to, you assume. Surprisingly, he pauses this conversation to look at you.
Were you staring that obviously?
Most dolls don't tend to pay attention to you, even if you do end up staring. They don't usually have any interest in you at all, or much of anyone other than the person they belong to. You end up getting a better look at his face when he looks your way, that unmistakable porcelain white. Some of the details of his face are physically sculpted, the others painted. A hint of orange at the corners of his eyes, an indication of a sun-like shape, little orange rays extending from them. His lips are painted that same orange. More of the metallic paint above one eye, forming a little swirl. The eyes themselves are entirely human in shape, but the blue iris and black pupil look painted on.
All the details shift as his expression breaks into a grin. He gives you a big, enthusiastic wave.
"A new friend!" He exclaims. "Do you want to come play?"
You stop in your tracks.
You've never actually heard a doll speak before- much less had one speak to you. Until this moment, you hadn't even been entirely sure living dolls could speak.
Yet this one did, clear as day. And he was inviting you to play with him.
This gets the attention of the woman on the bench. There's a sharp contrast between the two of them, the themed costume of the doll and the completely mundane look of a normal human being. Medium length hair, a plain white T-shirt, roughly your age or maybe a few years younger. There's a touch of frustration in her green eyes as she looks up, her focus lifting from something apparently important on her phone.
"Not everyone wants to play with you, Sun. Stop bothering people," she says. She turns her attention to you for a "Sorry about that."
"It's- it's fine," you manage. More than fine, really. Exciting, thrilling, entirely unexpected.
"Are you suuure, Nessa?" The doll- Sun, apparently- asks, with the tone of someone who knows they're entirely right. "They looked an awful lot like they wanted to play. You came to the park to play, right friend? We could play together! Do you want to?"
"Uh." You hadn't come to the park to play, no. The idea is a little ridiculous, you're not a child anymore- not that the actual reason you came is any less childish than that. Would that even be allowed, playing with someone else's doll? "I mean. Is that okay?" You ask, looking towards the woman.
(Nessa? Was that what her doll had called her? That has to be some sort of nickname, though you have no idea what it might be short for.)
"If you want to?" Nessa replies, shrugging. "You can, but you don't have to. Don't let him pressure you, he's always like this. Like a golden retriever or something, he always wants to play with everyone."
"That means yes, we can play!" Sun exclaims. He jumps to his feet, taking a step towards you.
Everything about this situation is strange. Are you really allowed to just... do that? Play in the park like a child? Not to mention your surprise at seeing Sun move away from Nessa, even if only a step, with the implication that he might go farther. You've never seen a doll leave their human's side, not even once.
... Could you really bring yourself to say no, though? Can you even pretend you'd want to say no?
"What kind of games can you play?" You ask.
The look Sun gives in response is entirely triumph, all joy. He bounces on his feet with excitement, as if barely able to contain his energy. You can relate to that feeling, a feeling that is too much to allow you to be still.
"All sorts!" Sun tells you. "Anything! We could play tag, or we could race, or hide and seek! There's also tic tac toe, word games, guessing games... Oh! And I have games on my phone, too!" The jester pants apparently has pockets, a porcelain hand disappearing into one. He pulls out an old phone, looking to be several generations out of date. You notice an orange sun painted on the back of his hand, the circle of flame around it almost resembling flower petals. "Here! I have chess, scrabble, and lots of hidden object games that are fun to play together!"
You glance at Nessa again, half expecting her to object. To tell you that this is her doll, her friend, something you have no right to be intruding on. Instead, you see that she isn't even looking at you anymore. Her attention is once again absorbed by whatever is happening on her phone.
"... You said we could race?" You ask.
Sun's phone disappears into his pocket again.
"First one to the fence wins." Sun gives a quick gesture towards the chain link fence at the far end of the park. "Three-two-one-GO!"
He moves before you can register what's happening. He's given himself a head start with your surprise.
You aren't going to let it be a big one.
Finally unleashing all the pent up energy crammed into your body, you push hard off the ground and sprint. Sun's strides are long and surprisingly graceful, but as your feet hit the ground faster and faster you begin to catch up. The world goes by in a blur of trees and grass, your heart pounding, and you put everything you have into that run. The last stretch approaches, and your outstretched hand grabs onto the fence just before Sun's does.
An unpleasantly sharp sound, his hand hitting the metal fence a split second after yours. You see he tried to pull his long sleeve over his porcelain hands to avoid direct contact with the metal, but a few of his fingers didn't get entirely covered. He must be much sturdier than an inanimate porcelain doll would be though, considering the fact that he didn't appear to do any damage to himself hitting the fence that hard.
Your theory is confirmed true when Sun flips into an honest to goodness handstand with no issue at all, flipping back to his feet a second later. Like running all that distance hadn't expended nearly enough energy for him.
Maybe it hadn't. You're gasping desperately for air, but looking closely you realize Sun is not. Or rather, he does look to be panting, but not in quite the right way. There is no sound of heavy breathing, only the motion of it. Said motions are too even as well, big but calm- only pretending to be out of breath.
Do living dolls even need to breathe?
Still, Sun seems genuinely surprised when he says, "You won!" Like he had really given it his all, and hadn't expected to be beaten.
"I won this one. I don't think I can do another," you admit, struggling to speak as you continue gasping for air. You feel a little sick. You might have overdone it.
"Oh! You're tired now," Sun says, as if he'd forgotten that could happen. "That's okay. Do you want to swing on the swings? They're a good place to sit and rest for a bit."
You look over to the playground section of the park. You do see swings there, alongside a small climbing structure and a basketball hoop. There are a few kids at the basketball hoop, but the swings are unoccupied.
You'd probably look silly, trying to fit yourself onto what is clearly a child-sized swing.
On the other hand, you think you might throw up if you can't sit and catch your breath soon.
"Sure," you say.
Sun looks utterly delighted at your response, as if he hadn't expected your agreement. So excited that he does a cartwheel on his way over to the swings, the motion fluid and perfectly balanced.
You notice he makes sure he's on the grass for the cartwheel, maybe hitting the pavement with his hands would be unpleasant even if he is tougher than normal porcelain. He doesn't have any trouble walking the paved path though, his feet protected by yellow jester slippers with curved toes.
The seat of the swing is definitely too small for you. You fit, but it pinches your thighs together uncomfortably. Despite that, it's an immense relief. You're still panting, but your heart starts to calm.
Sun, still full of boundless energy, all but jumps into the seat next to you. His momentum sends him swinging immediately, before he's even properly seated. There's no sharp porcelain-on-metal sound this time, his sleeves pulled over his hands fully.
"There!" Sun says. "We can rest on the swings as long as you'd like, friend. It was a fun race, but I love the swings too!"
"You could probably run all day, couldn't you," you comment. Can dolls even get tired?
"Not all day," he tells you, now swinging more purposely. The light runs across the golden sun rays on his head over and over, back and forth with the motion of the swing. "But yes, probably a little longer than most people," he adds with a laugh.
You spend a little while there on the swings, just talking with him. The entire situation feels a little surreal. You'd cut through the park hoping to maybe glimpse a doll in passing, and here you are now sitting and talking with one. Sun leans far back with the swing, gaining height. Once you catch your breath, you swing your legs a little as well.
Sun converses with you exactly the way any normal person would, about normal things. The weather, things he likes, things he's seen. When you bring up a topic, he never seems to lack any knowledge on it that a normal person would have. He's entirely capable of discussing hobbies, video games, books, anything. He's even played one of the games you mention, and gives you surprisingly good advice for mastering the timing of the dodge roll in it.
The pinch of the small seat becomes painful before too long, and you have to get off the swing. Still you sit in the grass with Sun for a good while longer, the two of you leaning close to both play some of the hidden object games on his phone. You compete to see who can find the most objects first.
He uses a stylus for everything on the touchscreen. You guess that makes sense, of course the screen wouldn't react to porcelain. You both reach for the screen at the same time at one point, and your hand bumps against his. His hand feels exactly like normal porcelain- Hard, solid, cold. The brush of his sleeve has the telltale feel of costuming instead of normal clothing, as well. It's an odd contrast to how lively and warm his personality is.
It's all surprisingly fun.
Surprisingly normal, like hanging out with anyone new.
Surprisingly strange.
It keeps hitting you over and over that you are in fact sitting next to a living doll, porcelain and cloth, human in shape only. You're sitting next to a living doll, who is talking with you and calling you friend.
The feeling of it is overwhelming.
You are overjoyed. You are heartbroken. You are excited and bitter, you are both fulfilling a life-long dream and acutely feeling the disappointment of never having had this for yourself.
But you are also having fun, and for a little while that is all that matters.
Eventually you have to go. You think Sun would have happily played for the rest of the afternoon, but he's understanding when you tell him you need to head home. He gives you another big wave, multiple enthusiastic goodbyes, and even thanks you for playing with him. As if you were the one that had done him a favor.
He even invites you to come back some time. He informs you that he and Nessa come to this park every day around the same time.
Nessa herself is still right there on the bench where Sun had left her. Whatever is on her phone must be either truly amazing or extremely important, considering you don't think she's looked up from it once the entire time. She only lifts her eyes for a second when Sun returns to her side.
Maybe you will come back again, if you have the time.
Maybe you will make the time.