Zeroh sat at the water’s edge, his punk rocker hair spiked in every direction, boots scuffed and jacket adorned with patches. He stared at the lollies growing, unblinking, lips pressed into a flat line. Around him, the world hummed quietly, but Zeroh felt no urge to smile, no thrill at watching the flowers bloom. "Tomorrow’s just as good as today," he muttered, his gaze unwavering.

Zeroh blinked once, unmoved by the commotion. He watched the ducks pass by, their little webbed feet paddling in rhythm, but his expression remained unchanged. The neighbors cheered and pointed, but Zeroh simply shrugged. "There’ll be more ducks tomorrow," he said, turning away from the lane.

Zeroh leaned back, arms crossed, watching the watercress grow. He felt no excitement, only patience—after all, things always happened again and again. He remembered his mother’s words: "Waiting is part of life, Zeroh." But for Zeroh, waiting felt unnecessary. Why worry about today, when tomorrow always came?

Zeroh[/@ch_1].] The toad looked at the punk rocker child and croaked softly. "Why do you never smile, young one?" The question hung in the air, echoing off the water. Zeroh hesitated, his gaze searching the pond’s surface. "Things always happen again," he replied, "so why care?"

Zeroh watched the fireflies, noticing for the first time how their glow changed the darkness. The toad spoke again, "Sometimes, today is special because of what you see, not what you expect." Zeroh pondered this, looking at the lollies, the ducks, and the watercress with new eyes. "Maybe waiting isn’t so bad," he whispered, feeling a small smile tug at his lips.

Zeroh sits at the pond’s edge, his punk jacket brighter in the morning sun. He watches the lollies and the ducks, but this time, he smiles—a real, gentle smile. Waiting, he realizes, can make even tomorrow feel brand new. "I think I’ll watch again today," he says, and the pond seems to sparkle just for him.