The little raven haired boy watched his older sister with curiosity-filled eyes. Simply fascinated, he braced his hands against the end of the bed rails and leaned forward on his bent knees to get a closer glimpse at the spectacle below. His oldest sister sat on the floor of her bedroom with her long legs spread out impossibly wide, wearing opaque white tights and an overly large cropped sweater that hung lazily off one shoulder. 

"First, we bind," she instructs as she grabs the tape sitting beside her. 

The little boy cringes a bit at he watches her spread a long piece of white tape over a fresh-looking bloody wound on her big toe. He's even more taken aback when she shows no sign of discomfort. "Doesn't that hurt?"

The older girl on the floor glances up threw her lashes at her apprehensive little brother sitting on the bed. She lets out a wistful sigh as she resumes taping a few more toes. "Of course it hurts."

Utterly perplexed, the little boy sits back on his heels and pouts. He taps the fleshy protrusion on his upper lip with the tip of his finger and furrows his brows as he attempts to make sense of it all. ". . .but Noona-"

The older girl halts his words and glares up at the younger boy. "Don't tell me you're ready to back out," she accuses.

Stunned by the sudden harshness in his sister's gaze, the little boy nervously blinks as he tries to come up with a good excuse. ". . .Um," he stutters. 

"You said you wanted to learn, right?" she demands.

He nods furiously. 

She points the roll of tape at him. "You said you were going to work hard, right?"

He swallows, ". . .yes."

His sister gives a curt nod of approval and resumes the taping of her toes. "Good, because this is nothing. If you want to be the best at something you have to work harder than anybody else. Now, tell me again why you want to learn Ballet."

The little boy looks down at his nervously clasped hands. "Well, I want to dance."

"Why? Why do you want to dance?"

This time the little boy doesn't need to think about it. He meets his sister's eyes with honesty and resolution. "Because it's something I love."

His sister smiles and nods as she beckons him to sit next to her on the floor. "Come, and bring the lighter from the bedside table."

The little boy scampers across the room to join his sister on the floor.

The older girl grabs one of the shiny satin pink slippers laying next to her and holds the toe towards her little brother. "Go, on. . .light it," she urges. 

"But we just bought them today!" The little boy exclaims, absolutely horrified at the idea of well-earned money going to waste on a damaged purchase.

The elder puts a finger against her lips and leans in conspiratorially towards the younger. "Best kept secret, if you light the toe on fire, it helps to soften up the tips. Prevents injury, especially with brand new shoes."

The little boy's eyes widen as he takes in her words. He nods slowly and holds the lighter with both hands. He flicks the wheel with his thumb, sending a spark against the flint and setting the toe of the slipper aflame. 

They silently watch the slipper's satin finish disappear until the elder removes it from the flame and replaces it with the other one. Once both slippers are burned to satisfaction, the little boy watches his sister place her taped feet inside the slippers and tie the laces. In an instant, she is on her feet, and in another, her feet go completely vertical, the tips of the slippers balancing perfectly on the floor.

The elder looks down lovingly at her younger brother. His beautiful brown eyes gaze up at her in w