Prompt: Gyu x Anyone
Sunggyu is alone for the New Year until someone unexpected shows up
Or
All Sunggyu wants to do is sleep
Extra: No mpreg

A/N: think of Sunggyu’s hair like the end of OGS, when he had it curly and cute like. I’m sorry this is probably the worst plot ever and too much describing. Happy Holidays! (this has nothing to do with the holidays) Also disclaimer to “Nagareboshi” by RoundTable ft. Nino

Extra march 1, 2015 update: Sadly Jade seems too busy to keep up the Secret Santa. Ah, but there’s complete understanding on my part. She has a life, let’s all respect that. To my giftie, haha I had originally written about Chinese New Year anyways and wow, coincidental timing I’m now posting near the end of this festivity. (i also combined it with the Harvest Moon to have an autumn setting cause you know it was last yearrr and all bleh) Thanks for the prompt, I hope you like it! (where ever you are)

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*

Lunar New Year refers to the first day of a secular, sacred or other year whose months are coordinated to the cycles of the moon. The whole year may account to a purely lunar calendar or to a lunisolar calendar whose months coordinate to the cycles of the moon but whose length is periodically adjusted to keep relatively in sync with the solar year – typically by adding an intercalary month.

Also called astronomical year, equinoctial year, tropical year. Representing the interval between one vernal equinox and the next.

*

Monkey, otter, jackal, and rabbit decide to practice charity on the day of the Full Moon believing demonstrating great virtue would earn great reward.

An old man was casted out of his town to the forest in banishment for wizardry. In the forest, he begged for food to the honest and compassionate animals. Four animals stepped up to help.

The monkey gathered fruits from the trees, the otter collected fish while the jackal wrongfully pilfered a lizard and a pot of milk-curd. They all presented the offerings to the old man, but he shook his head; having they eat instead their offerings.

However the rabbit, who only knew how to gather grass, offered himself and jumped into the fire the man had built. To amazement, he was not burnt. The old man, Sakra, touched by the rabbit’s virtue drew the likeness of the rabbit on the Moon for all to see. It is said the lunar image is still draped in the smoke that rose when the rabbit cast itself into the fire even today.

*♪*

Moon Rabbit’s Dance

Sunggyu

Over the hill and beyond the meadows lay a curious little ravine surrounded by small woodlands and flourishing fronds barricading the front of the cliff face. Springs flowed from the rock in their sparkling runs and gave opportunity to moss and lichen, sticking to the stone without consent. A stream flowed through and grasses interestingly placed themselves amidst the rock face, cushioning steps into flower and clover beds and greeting the mornings full of dew and the Sun’s kiss.

However, embedded into the rock cliff were portholes; doors so to speak. They were not the same rock as they were carved in with brass handles and stained glass windows; the doors with little peepholes were thatched on the rock on cliffs climbing the ravine. A thin, scuffling path curved around to each door.

Now, who with these dandy doors would ever choose to live in the face of a ravine? There is only one, a curious bunch of nickers and tinkers, who’d fathom even the rock can be called home— a warm furnished home. The people of Hobbitry, the Kims and company. And a hobbit hole meant one thing; without the nasty and dirty; it meant comfort.

Nonetheless, hobbit Kim was not only a Kim but a Lee. Nowadays the Lees were renowned for their knack of getting into troubles. You see hobbits are simplistic creatures with five meals a day, tea time, and lots of second breakfasts and snacks. Bedrooms warm, kitchens ready, the fireplace with a nice library and rocking chair, and many, many pantries. Hobbits tilt the land, clean their tunneled holes and keep themselves neat and tidy for daily snicker doodles in felt button ups.

Doodling and fuddling, enter Hobbit Kim Sunggyu. Shaven face, a nice new black felt blazer he had bragged about, and even a crisp new handkerchief. Shoes do not fit this one, no; for a Hobbit’s foot is larger than me or you. With little fuzzy hairs curling on the tops of their flat, broad feet, Hobbits sneak past you if you are not paying attention. Not for sneaking in the burglary notion, but for the incentive they are running from you.

Kim Sunggyu of the Kim househole is an ordinary hobbit whom just finished his second seed cake and second breakfast. He was sitting in the front of his porch on that dreadfully thin pathway; smoking his long pipe and entertaining himself with little smoke rings. The day was high and the night houring near, however he sat rubbing his tummy in content.

The Grand Festival was a quarter moon away. This was the time when all people; Hobbits, Elves, Dwarves, Man and the like, gather in the Central to celebrate the passing of a new year. To catch up on news and throw festivities into the air with heavy amounts of food and the last of summer’s wine on equinox’s eve. Games, prizes and gold all under the full Autumn moon. And the final task, to give the Moon Rabbit the blessings of earth and sky presents.

Sunggyu, as Kim’es he is and the daily life of brunch and afternoon treats, he finds it tiring to travel all the way up to Central, set up camp and then sleep out under the stars and single sky with the other Tribes. Celebrating a certain Moon Rabbit that everyone just loves.

In other words, why not just sleep?

He’s ready to cook up his own festivities in a much lesser grand scale. Instead of kettlecorn and squid, he’ll have nifty poppy seed muffins and a nicely grilled fish. Instead of those long parades and flying confetti, he’s got party streamers to hang around his house and a little whistle to blow. Instead of large, raining flower fireworks he has subtle sparklers to wave around on his porch, twirling and making little light circles.

In any case, he’s sluggish to pack. The worry of forgetting his toothbrush or hankie was so resilient he’d just rather not go through that.

It is until, an old friend visits.

*

You see, the Ravine Hobbits are good at their balance, with money and their bodies. They can sit upon the ledge in front of their little port doors without a care, smoking smoke rings and kicking their little stubby legs off the cliff side and above the trickling stream. They befriend not only the land around them, but each other. Even as the Joans ticks Sunggyu off every other day with their ‘beautiful’ cucumber rants; Sunggyu always leans back to say this is a very peaceful petite settlement. Of artisans and farmers, of the bakers and bantam merchants.

“Ooi! Sung! Gyu! Hyung!”

Looking down, with several irritations itching his forehead, Sunggyu quirks a brow at the tall figure bellow and his companion. One in a nice fitting collared shirt with a felt vest and leather bindings to hold that absurdly large bow and arrow barrel; while the other had troubles with his huge lofty hat. Pointy, floppy, and tilting to the side the mage was clad in a dark night blue (which he always tries to pass off as black) wizard’s hat. Although his robe was indeed black, he had on these ridiculous poofy white shorts that ended just after his knees so you can see the black ankle socks and little pointy boots. He too was waving around a long wooden staff, secured at the top was an oceanic depth wave orb.

The sun had just set and the other hobbits lit their doors with paper lanterns, buzzing around them tiny moths that were about the size of their finger, our finger nail. The two tall, and much, just maybe normally abnormally tall, waved and waved to the ol’lil hobbit kicking his bare feet out at them. They beckoned him down for some time until Hobbit Sunggyu finally got off his bum to stroll down to them at the bottom of the ravine.

Smacking his lips on his pipe and taking little bits at a time he makes out, “Good evening.”

“What do you mean?” the dark wizard tilts his head with beady, curious eyes. “Do you wish me a good evening, or that it is a good evening whether I want it to or not; or that you feel good this evening; or that it is an evening to be good on?”

“Um,” Sunggyu coughs on his last puff of smoke, his long pipe nearly whacking himself on the nose, “A-all of them at once I suppose.”

“Good lord, our Hobbit has become a midwife!” the tall Elven male flabbergasts to his partner, on the slim ledge for them and more than enough for a Hobbit, leans over to the wizard in mock grief.

“What?” Sunggyu hisses, “Lee Sungyeol, you are not welcomed in for tea nor cake!” He eyes the mage who seems to fiddle with his own robe too often in discomfort, “And this is?”

“You may have known my family in past Moon Festivals,” the wizard answers for himself, smacking Sungyeol in the face when he tried to talk. “The fireworks.”

Sunggyu lightens with a stream of smoke out of his jaws and a wide smile, “Oh, the Kims of Wizardry Woes, the family which creates those particularly excellent fireworks on midsummer’s eve! Good evening to you!”

“Everyone remembers when the fireworks are brought up,” he sighs and Sunggyu feels a tad disrespectful for not knowing more of the Wizardry Kim family. “A fine night. I am Kim Myungsoo of the Wizardry Kim’ses. And Myungsoo means, well, me.”

“Wizard who does some smack good fireworks, alrighty now let us in for some dinner Gyu-hyung! I’m famished from Myungsoo’s chicken hype!” Sungyeol knocks onto Sunggyu’s freshly dried and newly even maroon painted door and was going to bend over to turn the brass knob when Sunggyu quickly snaps at his hand, slapping it out the way.

He puffs his cheeks and Sungyeol does the same in fake frustration, “You will not treat my new door as such! I just got the paint job done and dried this good evening!”

“A door can be replaced Mr. Gyu!”

“Well, Mr. Yeol, I beg the ask for permission to enter my home,” Sunggyu playfully banters back, rolling his eyes as he steps through his door, smacks a sip of the pipe and fumbles it out of his lips in little clouds. Then, after all is said and done he says, “Good evening,” and shuts the door.

The two, the Elven and the Wizardry stand in front of the door until Myungsoo slaps Sungyeol’s face again and goes to the door. (mind you when he slaps Sungyeol’s face it is not at all painful but more of a friendly ‘you messed up’ gesture. Kind as to know) He raps three times on the new painted door and waits, unlike the Elf beside him.

Sunggyu opens two heartbeats after the knocks with a broad smile on his face, “Good evening.”

“My, you have a lot of things to say good evening to,” Sungyeol scoffs.

But Mr. Sunggyu pays no mind, “Would you like to come in?”

“Please,” Myungsoo breaks into a smile as well and yes, Sunggyu decides this one is just as fuzzy and warm as the Elven Sungyeol beside him.

“And good evening,” the Elven steps in first, brushing past Sunggyu in familiarity.

Sunggyu doesn’t need to hold his smile, because it’s there whether or not he knows, “Good evening.”

*

Hobbitons of all sorts gather around suspiciously eyeing the Kim’ses hobbit hole from morning to second breakfast, whispers and oddities weaving through the tunnels about an Elven and a Wizard from the Wizardry Kim’ses. Very different than the Ravine Hobbiton Kim’ses.

The respectable Kim’ses Sunggyu has always been a reasonable hobbit whom gives presents too all birthdays and never misses a deadline. He is always invited to parties and can cook up some mean snacks, but in all Sunggyu is just a hobbit people know and do not ever think twice of.

When an Elven and Wizard step through his hobbit hole’s threshold, questions aspire. Neighboring hobbits spread word to other friends of friends, about queer folks and lodgings Kim Sunggyu has.

But that day, Sunggyu did not appear outside the top of the hill hobbit hole, over the hill nor below the hill. He did not come out, neither his friends, of the homely home the next day or the day after that. He was not seen for a week, then stretched for a month.

And that was when, yes, they realized the Moon Festival was beginning. Hobbits never really leave for it, even as clans and tribes all attend. They are weak spirited and conduct their own festivities in their holes and under the hill. However their parties are just as grand, full of food and dish after more food. They raid their pantries and cook storms, throwing together everything and anything for their own celebration.

Kim Sunggyu was not here this time to prepare his own little quiches.

How he knew of the Lees’ Sungyeol of the Southern Wood Elves they did not know either.

*

“Stop stop stop!” he feverishly raided his pockets of the felt waistcoat. “We have to turn back!”

“Why so?” Kim’ses Myungsoo fixes his oversized hat again, looking back to the hobbit whom seemed even more frazzled than when Sungyeol forced him out of the house with a small pack with clothes and a toothbrush after very loud arguments made by the little thing.

“I forgot my handkerchief,” Sunggyu sniffles, having a bout of cold. He was lightly sneezing every few after the two days on the road and Sungyeol has had enough.

“Here,” the elven tore a piece of cloth from a sack from the side of his horse and throws it towards Sunggyu’s pony. “Use that.”

Still Sunggyu holds it away from his face with two fingers, disgust etched into his features, “Is this even washed Mr. Sungyeol?”

“I’m quite sure,” Sungyeol snickers after him, not bothering with a better answer as he starts his horse to trot up to where the Wizard was waiting. “What a riot.”

“If you say he’s to be at the festival, it is the only reason why I’m keeping this Marten along,” Myungsoo says, though he was joking at this point. Though he doesn’t mind the hobbit’s company the complaining can dwindle. “Can I have your reason again?”

“He is a great asset to have, my dear Myungsoo,” the Elven smiles to him, bright and early so the Wizard turns away with little tact. “In fact, Mr. Sunggyu is more than what he seems. You must know, being Wizardy Woe of Kim’ses, you saw it right? The moon’s radiance this year.”

“The stars scream tiny,” the Wizard chimes, recalling the endless stargazing the two had done months prior to the festival. If not for the fact that Sungyeol was merely a Southern Elven, then they would have been staring at stars every night with the DenseWood Elves.

“Therefore encircling the moon smaller,” Sungyeol points out, watching as finally Sunggyu blows his nose in the torn cloth and backs away with disgust. Dropping from his pony to a nearby stream and washes it off. The two wait patiently on their horses. “Small stars, small company. You know what the main is this year.”

“May the Northerners be kind,” Myungsoo grimaces, his nostril lifting in distain as he remembers the squabble he had years before with a certain Northerner. “Especially that ice block of a Caribou.”

The Elven laughs jubilantly and helps the Hobbit back onto his pony as he finishes with the river, “Not only the Caribou but a Snowleaf, Mr. Soo.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” he mutters begrudgingly.

The hobbiton Mr. Sunggyu was out of play as they trotted on, “A Snowleaf? The house of Caribou are, oh dear, frightening people. Why would you two be speaking of them?”

“It’s their year,” Sungyeol shakes his head, “And your clan as well, a forgetful lot you hobbits are about anything outside of the hills. Man and Hobbit the stars have spoken, and the Men have chosen the House of Snowleaf this year. It’s been a dozen springs since their last dance and decades since the Hobbits have presented.”

“It will be an interesting dance this autumn,” Myungsoo nods. “Yes, very so.”

But Sunggyu can only smother himself with doubt. Yes, the Hobbits of the Ravine have been neglecting the Grand Festival of the Moon as a whole clan. A few hobbitons trickled in every year but none too fond of showing up on stage. The Stage of the Moon Rabbit was to dance or present their clans’ or houses’ rituals devote to the Moon. And the Moon Rabbit will deem it a year of wonders and fortunes depending on the dance, following with the single and most renowned Dance of the Moon Rabbit.

Thorny details these are. Sungyeol’s trickery has him on horseback towards Central and being the icon of this year’s, and finally showing up, Hobbit representative. And in his heart Sunggyu could tell he was going to fall on stage for his presentation because he just cannot jiggy the stick.

*

Woohyun

The pond was murky, smelled sour with moss brewing on its surface and reeds shooting from the mud. Rocks and pebbles littered the banks in gray and blue hues, entering in shining water that reflected green dust on his face. Some toads sat silent with a croak every so often and birds covered the sun in mere seconds in his blinks. Voles scampered under shoots and beneath lily pads ghost the bodies of fish and their colored scales.

“A nice autumn’s end, is it not?”

Woohyun of Snowleaf snorted, him clad with a thin tunic he was not use to shrugging on as he kept rolling his shoulders with ease since he was without his furs. Cotton trousers tucked both under a belt and his light leather boots. It was strange for him to wear little and be far south from home. Everywhere was blessed with the sun’s eyes and clouds seem to be decorations rather than warnings. The only place he’s been curiously acquainted to was this pond, and in no means did it remind him of home.

“For you,” the Snow Fallen Leaf is curt, keeping his stone brown eyes to the pond. He misses the sight of snow for once. “Sweat has never been my friend.”

The other chortles, as if they were children again since it never had changed, and it effectively brought a smile to mare his face. “Woohyun, you are too stiff. Loosen! Remember in the times when we rounded the trees with dirt and scratches all over for squirrels and acorns. On the morrow we can go to preparing your dance however we still have the sun’s gratitude for another dial. Let’s squabble and chatter with wine and cheese.”

“You cease to ever grow, Dongwoo,” Woohyun looks to him with tired eyes, red the outer corners. “I fear I have gotten wrinkles from furrowing my brows so often in Snowleaf.”

“Nonsense, you had those since Howon stole your lamb nine summers ago!” The dwarf had shaven his beard in dare of Howon for this year’s Grand Festival. Just so happened to be the year Woohyun’s house is up for dance. He and the other beastman were helping him put together a performance as they were not only great dancers, but also childhood friends. The Jangs of Sky Mountains and the Nams of Snowleaf had been good friends since generations ago. Howon, the beastman, is Jang Dongwoo of Sky Mountian’s most trusted ally, and his not so subtle partner.

They too had met on the eve of the Moon Festival. After Elven Lee Sungyeol of the DenseWood Elves and Kim Myungsoo from Kims’es of Wizardry Woes had sought out that year’s autumn performers, both turned the ritual into an all-out competition, going back and forth with moves of their culture and some they had made up on spot.

The clans were anxious if the two had angered the Moon Rabbit with their folly, but the eared spirit laughed and shouted with much fierce that it had been one of the best performances he’s liked so far.

“Nine summers ago,” Woohyun repeats, reveling in the image of their younger selves jumping among clover patches and hiding from knights of Snowleaf in a game. They squealed and laughed in delight as they were chased in play and captured will of fun and joke. However these days, the Heir of Snowleaf once looks over his shoulder in fear there is an enemy there, with steel at hand nearly all hours.

“You sound like an old croon if you keep sighing,” Dongwoo scrunches his face and moves to pull the cheeks of the young heir. “Come now, smile!”

“I am,” Woohyun fondly breaks another grin, moving to pull down Dongwoo’s head and twist his knuckles on his scalp, “Who are you addressing as an old croon? My face is as bright as fresh snow!”

They continued to fool around, Dongwoo breaking that anxious mold Woohyun had created without knowing and finally had him laughing a few times in the high afternoon. The Snowleaf had more than once threatened to push the Dwarf down into the pond and greet the fishes while the Dwarf himself gustily puffed and rebound he can try to even lift him.

“I see the Heir of Snowleaf has finally brought back his livelihood.”

The two stop rough housing, limbs tangled in a knot from trying to pull at each other’s belt, “Howon!” Dongwoo shouts brightly as he pushes aside Woohyun in frenzy. The young Snowleaf was left in the dust to cough and again stare out into the pond. Another fish shined under the murky depths.

He picks himself off to whack the dirt off his trousers; the beastman looked to age no years past twenty, “Howon. It’s nice to see you without the fuzz surrounding your face.”

The other had shaved his neck and face as well. No doubt from the dwarf’s pestering, “I am clean shaven. You can feel the smooth touch yourself, young Snowleaf, since you do not have.”

“I plan to clean before my stage,” Woohyun snorts, touching the stubble that protruded onto his skin since the high roads down from Snowleaf. He always had his furs to warm his neck and a thick scarf to cover his face with bear skin hoods, but in summer’s weather it was too odd to abide beards. Most shave it away for the festival to look clean and communicate easier as the clear faces gave way to expressions. “And speaking, when shall we start preparations?”

“On the morrow,” Howon sighs, scratching his head as Dongwoo smiles meekly and hugs the beastman. “Lee of the Elven DenseWoods is running late with the representative that I shall be coaching. It will be a frustrating year for all of the clans.”

“How so?”

Dongwoo let out an airy laugh, “Along with you, the Ravine Hobbitons have been chosen to dance for the Rabbit.”

*

Servants ran back and fro from cup to cup of each guest in the high hall of the House of Bulongerie. There, the King of Man flourished the houses with food and drink to hearts content, showing his massive wealth with red cheeks and mighty laughter.

Woohyun sat with his first cup of Summer’s last wine half downed, his plate clean with streaks of oil left behind from what he chose to ate. The food was so abundant and usually he’d have no qualms chewing away as both Dongwoo and Howon were doing beside him. He was absolute that Howon had too much to drink as even his neck burned.

The aching thought of a Hobbit to be the other dancing was bizarre. Not only this, but Howon and Dongwoo planned to have he and Woohyun dance together. There had been no clans that danced together, especially not with Man. Among the other clans, Man is second to last before Hobbit; who were only curious folk under the hill in the Shire. Man on the other had is tainted with greed and sin. History spoke in its page of the destruction Man has led on lands, wiping out the entire clan of Earthen Wildbeasts, Howon’s own ancestors. The clans matched together once to bring Man down and in place, frolicking in their minds of the wealth they were left and parties day to night.

Only the Hobbits, Wizardry, Faeri, and small societies had stayed out of the war. Still they were renown but the Hobbits, still curious folk, only cared about which meal to pick and their gardens. Woohyun had clashed steel in his hand since he had been a boy, learning societal and clan manners; exploring the Northern Hemisphere between Tallwood hunting and riding horse. Hobbits, they only find adventure in searching the pantry.

“Absurd,” he muttered under his cup as he sipped the sweet ruby, watching as Dongwoo shoved another slice of ham to Howon and the beastman nearly choking. That brought him out of thought and reached for another shoulder of lamb dressed in garlic, mint and honey.

Once he had his full, he left the dining hall and his two friends behind returning to his sleeping quarters in the Tower. The moon was shining, nearly full and silver glared, casting the Man’s castle near the dale which the festival will be held in a gleaming light. Here, the year’s dancers and Man of Houses slept in their own towers. Woohyun this year had his own quarters in the Dancers’ tower: Tower of SettingSun.

Returning to his quarters on a sanded dirt path lay the moon’s sigh and his steps scuffled. Pebbles could be felt through his thin boots and the wind breezing past like a hug, not needles. Furthermore he found apparent differences of the North’s Snowleaf and Central’s Dale. Trees here rounded with leaves of oval and shaded large parts, mingling together. There was no snow to crunch under thick fur boots or the protection of his hood. Mountains part for the sun, not the break of dawn. People here are soft and easy, tricky with their complicated extensions and presuming thoughts. Woohyun remembers in Snowleaf, where everyone only has one enemy. Winter.

They band together, regardless of family and decent; working together under the same village and sharing virtue with honor. Simple, warming greetings with no further intentions than friendship.

He misses Snowleaf. Here is too false.

“Oi, Mr. Sunggyu, hurry up! We are already four days late with your willy distractions!”

“They are not distractions, they are concerns! My pony and your horses look distraught, it is agony to have them continue on without proper rest.”

“That’s because you kept pausing, Hobbit Kim. We were set in daylight and nightfall is rest. Rivers on the moor is not ideal in travel.”

Woohyun turns, from his spot under a large oak, and sees two stallions trot over the path from the outskirts with a pony following behind quite a ways. One black horse sat a Wizard and the other sunburned grass stallion sat an Elven. No doubt the Carriers of the Festival. And on the pony sat the smallest male he’s seen, even smaller than a dwarf.

I have to dance with him? The Heir thinks as the horses come his way to the Tower. Hobbits were gnomes with their broad feet and frenzied hair. The other representative was nothing but a child.

“Here here!” the Elven caught sight of him and Woohyun does not dare to curse. His Wizard would have him seared in coffin within a fortnight. “It is the Snowfallen Leaf!”

As they gallop to him and unmounts beneath the trees, the horses make their way to the stables themselves by the Tower and the two help the Hobbit down the dotted pony. The top of his head reaches to Woohyun’s chest, and Dongwoo goes to his shoulder. Even as Man was not as tall as the Elven or Wizardry, he was still height worthy.

“Welcome,” the Snowleaf wonders is his eyes were steeled as most of his house was. He did not want to come off cold but it’s second nature for the Northern people. “You have come late.”

“Apologies,” it is the Wizard who speaks to him, the one who had come earlier in the year north to notify Woohyun; Kim Myungsoo. “Our guest isn’t fond of travelling.”

“So I’ve heard.”

The Hobbit does not speak.

Sungyeol, the Elven Carrier from DenseWood, stomps close to the Hobbit’s feet and the little male jumps in freight, staring up to Woohyun with dark, earthy irises, “Good Evening Snowleaf.”

“Evening, Hobbit,” what else would he reply with?

The conversation dies from there, and Sungyeol escorts the other back into quarters. “With much doubt,” the Wizard Kim says to him, “Our Hobbit is shaken. Give him a day or two, then he won’t be able to close that yap.”

“I had not asked,” Woohyun shrugs, looking at the Hobbit who is so small beside the Elven. “I hope we will have good relations, I do not wish to work with someone delicate as a pansy in felt.”

“Comment about his smoke rings and nicely buttoned waistcoat, he will have no qualms to you,” Myungsoo smiles. “And also, let him feel the warmth of Snowleaf; he deems you ice in summer’s wine.”

“As everyone does,” there was no hurt in the remark. Only truth as the Heir has gotten nervous glances all over by the other Houses and Clans.

“Sleep long, Heir to Snowleaf,” the Wizard tips his large pointed hat, hoping a restful night to him. “I bear to think that the Hobbit will reach the ends of your nerves.”

He smiles back, the silver crest of his House clutching his belt together, “Fair night, I believe so as well.”

*

“Left! Left! And up then left. Right! Right! Down and slide.”

Dongwoo as an instructor bodes well, he is focused and on track. Helpful when Woohyun cannot bend a certain way or unsure how to follow through, the movements are calm and smooth to his liking and he continues on without too many qualms. He feels like he’s dancing through the reeds of the pond just on the outskirts of the Bulongerie House, near the Briarwood. A silver fish in an ocean of snow.

“Break,” Dongwoo calls, smiling bright as ever. The Heir stops in his sweat-soaked wools to take a seat on the polished wooden floors. They were still in the Tower of SettingSun, first floor where it was prepared for the dancers’ practice.

“This is more tedious than sword play,” Woohyun wipes at his forehead with the back of his wrist, the precipitation warm and wet. “Are we nearly finished?”

“A week to the festival and we had only begun the first sun,” the Dwarf looks out the window as the sun has already started to touch the mountains goodbye. “You have only the beginning.”

“Damn you, crazed dwarf and beast,” the Heir plays, a grin lazy on his face and he lies back down. Then a thought surfaced in his mind, “How does the Hobbit go?”

“None too sure but Howon,” Dongwoo shrugs, looking out the window again. “Ah wait, I spoke too soon. Here they are now.”

As he points, Woohyun scrabbles to his feet and peers out. The Beastman has no tunic over his body, his bare chest glistening with sweat and his shoulders carry on a long pole, both sides filled to the brim with water from the stream all the way down the gully. The slippers on his feet dusty, but still as intact as his pants when the two had left.

Behind him a small tuff of hair pulled over the ridge, struggling but Howon said nothing nor made any move to help. The Hobbit shoved his pole again on his own sagging shoulders, sloshes of water tipping out as he pants and heaves forward. His cotton completely covered with sweat, pants torn at the knees, and his slippers battered. It looked as if a soaking rat had run out of the rain from a fight. 

“Come now Hobbiton, look. We had made it before sundown; praise yourself,” Howon finally set the buckets down from his shoulders once Sunggyu had gotten to his side. He put one pat to the Hobbit’s shoulder, none more.

“This…” Sunggyu puffed, his little lungs struggling for air, “…this on…the morrow as well?”

“Perhaps,” and the Beastman leaves it mysterious as that.

Sunggyu falls down to the dirt, panting still as he rests and Howon says he can drink the water they had brought up. Small the Hobbit is, but Woohyun was surprised when Sunggyu downed both buckets in a frantic thirst dowsing the clear water on him as he drank; smacking his lips and is flabbergasted when the Hobbit goes on to say, “Are there any cakes?”

“Dear Godswood, he’s craven,” Woohyun turns away from the window, staring at his own hands.

“Not craven,” Dongwoo pats his back, deeming the day over, “But interesting. Do talk to him at the dinner table, partnership is key.”

*

Sunggyu

Lackadaisical he is when he enters the Great Hall of the House of Bulongerie. The dining is high and multiple houses were bumbling around red as their summer wine, laughing and cheering. The malt coming in smelled of autumn pumpkin and porter even stronger. He can still hear the portcullis falling with eerie creeks and a gust of sparkling wealth when he entered.

However looking at all the food he feels out of place. Everyone here was Man, and he a small Hobbit. His instructor, Howon, seemed to have found a private patio to dine alongside the dwarf Dongwoo, and Woohyun the Snowleaf was nowhere to be found.

His partner, the Snowleaf. Sunggyu shivers; even the thought of the Heir was winter, chilling his inners. He’s tall to the Hobbit as he is sadly a stump to all clans, but for Man the Snowleaf is none too much better. Sunggyu likes what he does to his hair but the way he clutches steel beside his belt, to reassure that it’s there and when he fervently looks behind him to watch for enemies, frightens the Hobbit. Sometimes he’s blue that he is a Hobbit, to be so short.

Their practices haven’t gone as smooth as their instructors would have liked. The Hobbit stumbles over his own feet, trying to balance beauty with his unsure brows furrowed and the Snowleaf finds him advancing in the same pace as a snail. Only a week left and still the Ravine Hobbiton cannot put together the dance without reminders and Dongwoo’s encouraging counts. Woohyun is both frustrated and irritated at him whenever he enters the dance hall. When the dance it put together or any instance where the Snowleaf has to step near the Hobbit, the air stills in stiffness; reducing poor Sunggyu in a state of crooked movements and mind cluttered thoughts about sleep. Howon too is nearly close to lighting the entire hall in flames.

Day by day, they do not talk nor connect. Sunggyu did not know what the Snowleaf’s family lineage was until the Dwarf was gracious enough to enlighten him. Nams. No wonder he was such an .

First time he said that, Howon flared to no end, threatening to burn him alive and if it weren’t for Dongwoo then Sunggyu would be at the bottom of the Dale impaled and bled to death. Left for crows and rot.

Sunggyu is more than aware that his comment was uncalled for, and he thoroughly apologized like the well-mannered Hobbiton from the Kim’ses he is. Sungyeol visited him often and he hasn’t seen Myungsoo since the day they arrived at the side of the Dale. Yet, the only thing on his mind was dreams. More rest to his aching muscles and a second to have rest to his nerves. He’s been pushed, directed, and danced to a point where he’s not quite sure where his head is anymore. Hair matted with oil, skin greasy, and clothes remained unchanged, he’s been training and practicing with Howon for days on end. The week seems unending, and it’s only been three days. Sleep sounds liked an ever sweet embrace.

Other times Sunggyu’s grateful for his stature, as he can slip past quickly and hurry down with only his waistcoat seen as he turns a corner. But now, he is only drifting. In his large cushioned seat his eyes droop and fall, he is afraid someone will do something to him. Downing another cup of wine, he hops off the chair and gingerly leaves the hall.

*

“Step step, slide and hold!” Howon clapped alongside his commands, watching the two Dancers gracelessly try to step with each other; Woohyun stepping all over the Hobbit’s feet, and Sunggyu going the opposite way of the Snowleaf. He groans in frustration.

“Fools!” he shouts at them, immediately stopping the music and stomps his foot, “Three days, I say! Three curiously worthless days left and not only have you not dressed, but you can’t move together!”

“I’m trying…” Sunggyu looks down, “Just this Snowleaf...” he leaves the rest unsaid.

“He can’t learn, Howon,” Woohyun snorts, looking down at the Hobbit with a sneer. “How to work with such an incompetent thing?”

“Both of you are worthless!” Howon punches the wall, leaving a dent and both shut their mouths. “Dongwoo!”

The dwarf enters in a hurry, carrying food and assesses with his eyes before widening and quickly taking action. Dropping various foods onto the table, he quickly takes Howon away, facing away to press a quick kiss to him and pointing to the refreshments with a wink to the Dancers. Together they leave and Sunggyu can hear Dongwoo carefully calming the beastman.

“You pushed him over again,” he hears Woohyun sigh. “Useless.”

“Excuse me, Snowleaf, but I am only trying my best!” Sunggyu puffs, nearly done with this fellow as well.

“The best effort doesn’t always satisfy the expectation,” his voice flatly states, chilling Sunggyu in cold truth. “If you can’t meet the deadline, you should just leave.”

“You may go, but I am not. I don’t give up from my duty!” he argues back, “If you are to only stand and complain, then you should grow up and realize an Heir cannot be stubborn as a child without candy!”

Woohyun takes his provocation and moves to take his sword and unsheathes it, placing the blade to his shoulder and adds just a little pressure, “At least I’m an Heir, respected and can actually dance. What are you but a measly fat pleasure taker? The Carriers had to drag you here and late to the dot. There is no real reason to why you’re here!”

Sunggyu bites his lips, the words Woohyun delivers are only the truth and he knows them all too well. Boding on ideas of sleep and the next meal has been Sunggyu’s main motivation this entire time and he hasn’t put his heart in this dance. To hear them from the Heir was frighteningly real, and he bows his head in response. Tears well up to encase his eyes, daring not to fall just yet and his breaths are muffled with shakes. To hold it all, his lungs and throat burns in pain, fists clenching to a point his nails hurt him for once. Anguish takes hold of his edging realization and all he makes out to the Snowleaf is, “There isn’t.”

Running hasn’t been easier to him than now as he pushes past the Heir.

*

Hastily past the heavy oak doors, he finds the outside crisp and a little bitter in the upcoming winter; which approaches just a moon after the Festival. The last clouds of Summer roll past in white wisps and Sunggyu too finds himself taking a run in the evening moon. His limbs ache but doesn’t heed his steeps; a breeze fluffs his curly hair.

Tears he connects to rain, and tries to convince the sky is letting loose their tears, not him. He slows to a brisk stride and shakes away the calls of the instructors. The Snowleaf is right, he doesn’t belong here. No Hobbit does. There’s this reason why they never go and the underlying truth is that none favor them at all. It isn’t a total racist movement, there are people whom are nice but the fear of someone calling them nobodies is strong. Sunggyu had convinced himself otherwise when Sungyeol kept preaching how well the Festivals have become since Myungsoo ran the fireworks these days. He wanted to believe, but of course none other than his Dance partner is the one to show him the truth.

Footsteps start to follow him, adding a few more in seconds; Sunggyu is aware that his bare feet cannot make this much commotion. Fear creeps up his nerves like a plague and soon engulfs his lungs into a panic, leaving the poor Hobbit breathless and already in sweat.

“I-I know this is no normal walk, so can we please not hide in the dark?” Sunggyu turns around, his hands shaking as they find a hiding place in his pockets, his left hand clutching the dirty hankie that Sungyeol gave him. “Good evening.”

“It is a Hobbit,” the other is Man, with several friends. The Hobbit eyes their sigils on their chests. Leginoth. “Haven’t seen one in ages.”

“Brother,” a taller, much taller than the Snowleaf, makes Sunggyu only go up to his knees. His breath is all but puffs now, “May I play with him? He’s just like a doll!”

“No, you nut. You’d pulverize him,” a friend punches the tall male, she herself very beautiful. Sunggyu thinks her hair must be the waves of a tropical sea; however in this situation he can only deem her another danger. “See his feet? Those are perfect.”

“Seohyun, enough,” the first who had spoken raises his hand, facing Sunggyu yet again. “You’re this year’s Dancer?”

“Yes,” Sunggyu gulps. “I believe so.”

“How good are your feet?”

The Hobbit finds it desperately disturbing how they keep eyeing him as some sort of apparatus, having ideas of what they need him for. He swallows another gathering of spit that lodged with his tongue, “I’m not quite sure what you mean by that.”

“Brother, please!”

“Quiet! Hobbit, tell me; do you take us for Dirt?”

“I only mean to greet a good evening,” he repeats, stepping back when Seohyun takes one forward. “And maybe a stroll.”

“I’ll take him if you two are too stoned to move,” she grits, stepping fast towards him.

As a signal, Sunggyu turns and starts sprinting down the grass, away from the path. His legs burned to stop but fear of the Leginoths catching him was more powerful; making him raise his little knees higher and moving his hands like knives up and down his sides. The sounds of pounding earth only drive him forward, hoping to the Moon Rabbit that his broad feet won’t step in anything pointy.

Leaves scatter as he jumps over a fallen log and enters the slanting earth down to the Dale, scree running as dirt and rock tumble with him. One hand on the ground to his side, his legs improving movement as he scales the side of the mountain diagonally he believes more and more that they can catch him at any moment.

There have been instances like this before. Known for their large feet and shortness; Hobbits have been specially chosen by rouges and the Dirt of Houses to be spies and thieves. During the Festival, there would be only one object worth wagons after chests of gold; the Pearl of the Moon.

Only the Moon Rabbit holds this gem upon his chest, gleaming in the night as the brightest there is. Some say with the legends, it is a very essence of a fallen star.

*

The Hobbit finds himself loosing footing, dropping down to skid on his face in a pile of fallen leaves, thankfully free of pebbles or anything sharp. Sputtering, he pops up and finds himself on a flattened land before the bottom of the Dale, rain water dripping off the face of the mountain plopping one by one into a large pond.

It smelled only crisp with the sound of dragonflies buzzing there and here. Moonlight filtered behind the receding trees with stars smiling after it, tiny as sprinkle in the sky. The water dark enough to reflect the face of the night sky in its eyes, dotted lily pads scattered the surface and the green foam of moss. Lichen latched to the rocks and toads sat still on their perch, watching and catching the late mosquitoes. Moths dusting over towards light. No wind ruffled his hair, his skin cool in the moist air that teemed with light of fireflies dancing with each other. Reeds sprouted tall to rival the Hobbit, and cat tails bobbed behind them. Large, rounded yellow flowers sprung from their round shining leaves, the mud splattered in dark spots and drier dirt.

Sunggyu squished his feet at the kiss of the pond, where the water met his toes. Chuckling to himself airily, the feeling of panic released from his lungs; the pond taking effect to calm him. The Hobbit crouched down to meet the water with his fingers, rippling the water in rings out and disturbing the surface. Ghosts of silver scales slipped past beneath the lily pad and into reeds. Sunggyu wondered where the fish had come from, maybe cut from the river millennia ago.

The woodland covered sounds, and not only that but the dark started to creep onto him. He was scared, no doubt; and the Hobbit’s hairs still here unsettled by the thoughts of those Dirt trying to use him. Pressing himself close to the rock, feet still touching the water he hides in the overhanging moss and lichen. Reeds close around him and the disturbance of the water would warn him of anything.

Baking suspicions of what might be out there fills his mind and leaves Sunggyu restless. His eyes darted back and forth for danger, but none came. Scared to even close his eyes, he thought about warm things. Like his hobbit hole, his bed covered in fleece and sheep’s wool, having two seed cakes with a hot cup of tea. Anything. Fish swam so close to him, even in the shallow waters and he was beginning to fear them as well.

Still their beauty won him over, and soon the Hobbit was watching them swirl and swim before him, fear losing its grip. He tried not to think how he was distracting himself, but that made it worse and fear came back colder, cutting deeper than any steel can.

The silver koi fish did their work, dancing with flowing fins and some marred with patterns, but Sunggyu liked them all.

“I wish I can dance that well,” he whispers to the fish, the cold creeping on his skin as the water left him drenched, at the wind’s mercy. “But I only have my feet as a charm, and many don’t like them anyways. Hobbits aren’t failures, we are nice people,” he huffs, but his argument sounds weak even to himself. “I’m not a thing… Oh Sungyeol, why did you ever bring me here?”

Resting his head on his arm, he hugs his knees closer to his chest, “I just want to sleep…”

*

Woohyun

Back in the dance hall, Woohyun hadn’t moved a foothold. He stayed, arms crossed and his eyes concentrated to the window outside.

“What did you say?” Dongwoo knows from the beginning what sort of argument they had. Seeing the Hobbit run out was a first. They had fights before, but never once so far to have one running. “You do realize we only have three suns left.”

“I realize,” the Heir chooses not to look at his friend, guilt will eat him from the bottom to top. “Maybe not the Hobbit.”

“He has a name,” the Dwarf sighs. “What did I say on the first night Sunggyu arrived?”

The Snowleaf doesn’t answer, but he knows. Partnership is key. “He’ll return,” stubbornly he grips his resolve that was chipping away. “Too cowardly to run far.”

“That may be so, but there are things that can drive him away. Don’t be a child, Woohyun.”

Another fire builds and he glares to the Sky Mountain Dwarf, “I am not a child! By my own hands, I have rebuilt Snowleaf to re-enter economics and commerce as a powerhouse! Since father—“ he bites his lip. “I am not a child.”

“We may have aged, you may have had to take over responsibility that is too heavy but Woohyun,” Dongwoo sighs, Howon behind him calm as well, “But we still can play a game of chase and that’s all we really care about. What’s being Hobbiton have to do with anything?”

About to answer with everything, Howon clears his throat, “Dirt of Houses may be looking for him as well.”

*

Sunggyu

“The first fundamental in defense play is guarding your back. Enemies don’t just disappear.”

A drop of several heavy things fell to the floor and Sunggyu jumps to his feet, hairs on his neck stand on end as he spirals around. Only to meet the steel eyes of the Snowleaf; relief flooded his stomach again when he saw him. Some other force, his dance partner was much welcomed than these brutes.

“How…?” Sunggyu eyed the bodies, much beaten but only unconscious.

“They’re like a pack of newborn moles, loud and unsteady. Their feet pound the floor as if they think they are silent,” Woohyun scoffs, a gleam of his sword catching the Hobbit’s eye. “In Snowleaf, even a moose wouldn’t pity them to die from a Lynx’s paw.”

The dark of the night engulfs both of them and Sunggyu is left to shuffle his feet with no words to say. He ponders a little, going over a few lines that could work but none too perfect to say. The Snowleaf seems to not mind as he wraps the bad men and woman to a tree with some vines off the mountain, walking up beside him to seat himself on a particularly flat rock. Sunggyu doesn’t join him, but figures out what to say.

“Good evening.”

Woohyun seems rather pleasantly surprised, only flashing across his face before a subtle smile graces Sunggyu, “Evening.” It’s short, but still a response.

And the Hobbit dares to ask, “And you found me…?”

The Snowleaf hums, “When you touched the pond.”

Moonlight surrounds them once more.

*

The Grand Festival is annually filled with the largest tents that cover the Dale in lights and red curtains. Yellows and Oranges dance in shadows as the party draws over the dawn to sunset; fully lighting the night sky in brightness. Lanterns shine and the gates stand high with bells tolling the hour. Scents of spices and bazaars fill the paths and ringing of stalls fuse with one another.

And all leads to the base, where the two mountains meet and the dusty harvest moon stands between them, glorious with its brim glow and tiny star dancers flittering all around it. Below, the shrine of the Moon Rabbit stands alone and a red gated, white marbled platform rose before it. It sparkles in the night, lightened by only the moon and fireflies.

The clans gather under the unanimous treaty, pleasing laughter and entertainment for all connects them in the wind. All before the same sky.

He stands, behind the marble stage in shivers. The dance attire cold against his skin and not enough time to trim the sleeves so they pass his fingers by a hair, Sunggyu shakes with fear again. Rising in his throat, he does not dare to breathe as his eyes widen. The audience becomes larger and fuller, louder as they all await this year’s Moon Dance.

“Relax, you are as if the winter has chosen you as first ice.”

The Hobbit jumps again, nearly slapping the Snowleaf’s arm if not he hadn’t moved. “Good heavens, Woohyun. I ought to just relieve myself off my bladder because of you.”

“No need for that, Sunggyu,” the Heir rolls his eyes, but his smile is fond. Days of dancing together has brought them in mutual agreements. “Do calm down. It is a mere dance, we’re set.”

“Yes, I suppose you can see it like that.”

Both him and Woohyun were dressed in the attire of their clan’s dance attire. Sunggyu clad with white robes, cut sharp with wide, apparently stitched sleeves and a broad waist band, glittered with silver beads and threads. Darker clothes tied his wrists and belt, alongside his legs which were surely bound with more silver tread since no pair of decent pants fit him. All too big, not enough time to be fitted. His smallclothes felt breezy, even as he wore two pairs. His Hobbiton feet were left without coverage, no shoes, but they had shaved away his fuzzy, curly hairs that sat atop his feet. Sunggyu was quite fond of them, and now his feet felt cold.

But, trimmed and cleaned, he looked like a little bobbing kid with bells laced along one side of his hair.

Woohyun no different, but the dark emerald cloth binding his white robes seemed more royal than Sunggyu’s. Not to mention he had actual shoes with the shining sigil of the House of Snowleaf Nams on his chest. Emerald gold bracelets glittered even in the dark, his earrings costing more than all of Sunggyu’s clothes.

They had made no sigil for the Ravine Hobbitons.

*

Carriers

“Would you look at that?”

The wind is harsh above the ground where the stars are ornaments and the moon is your guidance. Clouds brush along their hair but he lowers the staff to hover a little bit. Far above the ground, just two sit along the magic and they survey the two.

Carriers, they are called, of the Moon Rabbit. The Rabbit choses two and sends signal to the stars, which they interpret and set out to gather their dancers. The right clan, the right house, the right person; these all matter every year to secure the blessings of the night’s radiance. Living on the road, with caravans and merchants; with the earth as partner and horses as limbs, these lands were evaluated by the both of them for the right Dancer.

“The Snowleaf?” Sungyeol presses to his side, trying to catch sight of the child. “Finally he leaves that hall; I was beginning to like he was leaving the Hobbit to die.”

“I see why you brought Mr. Sunggyu,” Myungsoo watches, they both find the Snowleaf a little slow but he finds the trail and follows right towards the Dirt. “Helpless, needless to say, in dancing. But he has something no other Dancer had in a long while.”

“What?” the Elven snickers, “Are you playing prophecies?”

“Maybe,” the Wizard scoffs. “Can’t I play?”

“You’ve played enough.”

“Well, you send those Dirt after him,” Myungsoo puffs his cheeks. “So mean.”

“But look where it got them,” Sungyeol smiles beamingly, pointing to how Woohyun found them in the nearby wood and nearly beat them all indistinguishable. Now he dragged them towards the pond, where the Hobbit sat hiding. “My, it’s like watching your children grow!”

“With much pride,” he agrees.

Without their guidance of shining moonlight, both would never have gotten to the pond. Nor would Sunggyu have chosen to stay at the pond. Every year, this time, the Moon Rabbit grants them enough power to guide their dancers to work together. This year, maybe a little more challenging however the Hobbiton was workable.

Carriers, they are called. And the two every year shows the best fireworks in last of their grants.

How Sungyeol knows the Hobbiton on a personal level? But that is another story for another time, youngling.

Waves of people pass by, the evening sky stays far away
The sound of the bustling city surrounds my usual road home

*

Moon Rabbit

The shrine stands above all. A small seat of silver, radiant in the moonlight which he is gifted and shimmers with offerings all around. Ferns placed all around gives him a nicer feel and the wind just crisp enough for him to bite. Yes, the Moon Dance is to begin.

The marble stage glimmers, awaiting its dancers. Sungjong hopes to Sakra that their dance is better than last Grand Festival.

The Moon Rabbit, none other than Sungjong; the boy with the Pearl of the Moon. Sakra long ago bestowed him the legend and he to this day works to guide the moon every equinox for the night’s life. Clans from all throughout have gathered for him to wish upon another year, and he feels a sort of nice chime that never gets old.

This year, he has sent word for a Hobbit. Years have passed and those rascals have dug deep into their pantries to avoid the call. Clans are all but a little biased to them, small people they are. Unfair, yes; but this year Sungyeol has promised to bring someone he never had thought.

Time for expectations to be broken.

“Let all those under the Moon to gather under the eyes of stars and watch the Dance!” Sungjong booms, his gray cape flying with the wind and the gold coronet filigreed with ruby vines matched his ever wined eyes. They all gathered under his call, a sort of power he likes. Surrounding the arena and he seats himself again, awaiting the performance.

Two step out, each in their own white and colored sash. He sees the Snowleaf garbed with emeralds and the Hobbit some gray. That’s good, Sungjong liked the gray.

Lights dim all around, lanterns blown to darken and the moon is left to light them, alongside a few candles in the corner. They start without cue, spinning once and the Hobbit hits his bell tangled with his hair. The ring echoes into the Rabbit’s ears and they twirl again moving in a diamond, a single toll of the bell resounds in the air. Everyone holds a breath, their slowed pace drawing out anticipation and eagerness.

Sungjong best not show his fidgeting, he wanted to see if they could flip and do funny things that were cool and remembered. So far it’s just been regulation.

Then the Hobbit and Snowleaf stand side by side, no longer dancing and face to him, the Rabbit. Their heights were different but none matters before him. A soft bell chimes again against the Hobbit’s head when he moved some, to align himself. They breathe once and then, to Sungjong’s surprise, they start to sing.

My squeamish and lying heart wants to dream
Because I want to say goodbye to my weak self
I want to protect you

*

Instructors

“You want to what?”

Howon looked at the two abashed. Their entire routine, their days of practice all for a change in mind? “Are you two on toadstools?”

“Howon, you know I’d never touch those,” Woohyun tells him, and he’s nearly had it. The entire night both stupid Dancers did not return until morning. With a muddy Hobbit and a dirty Heir; three Dirt captured and put into captivity.

“Let’s hear them out,” Dongwoo smiles, giving him a sort of tranquilizer so he backs down. “What made this idea, of singing instead of a dance?”

“Be honest,” Sunggyu sighs, “I can’t dance well. For the sakes of mother earth and my Hobbiton race, I do not wish to embarrass any further. But, I do sing quite a lot and I think I may be able to contribute this way.”

“I top a couple notes,” Woohyun coughs, still pinked cheeked about this idea. “This way we can do the same and still pull a performance.”

“Willikers you two,” Howon rubs his face, “The end of me, that’s it. Dongwoo!”

Thankfully the dwarf was there to embrace the beastman, smiling at them. “I like it, so where do we begin?”

Tucked deep behind the door
Were thoughts that I started to forgot about

*

Snowleaf

Clouds gathered without noticing and soon a shower happened. However, they did not stop. With a couple steps to their song (Howon’s constant want to contribute) they turned and swept along the marble floor. Water gathered at their feet but none cared. The Hobbit had more to him than seen, his voice reaching the full ends of the Dale and even the Rabbit was enjoying their performance.

The Snowleaf even more so.

How long had it been since he sang? Upon responsibilities and discipline, the act of using his voice to note out pitches had faded away along with his folly. But, as Dongwoo said, he is still but a child inside.

No wind blew, the rain fell in straight and sparse lines. Puddles along the marble stage reflected with the lantern light and moon, giving face to the clouds and stars in the sky. Dark with a musky blue and littered with the glows of light. In the corner, Woohyun could see a small plum flower bobbing along the rivets of the puddle. The rings of rain touched the surfaced, rebounded all around them in circle waves. Ridden along their steps, they created an illusion of a night sky at their feet, disrupting them in the circles and the harmony of their voices spread to their ears.

The chimes of bells were their only way of staying on step and the Hobbit was doing surprisingly good on staying on step. Their song reached everyone’s attention and many stopped eating, some still drinking. Splashes jumped in little droplets and fell back down onto the water’s surface, disrupting the imaged sky again and again.

The light bright in the night sky is like a shooting star, certainly
It won’t disappear, at anytime, strong feelings
Are always in my chest

As if ascertaining the road that I kept walking on, I look back
In a tiny bit of confusion, I just yearn for the answer in a corner
And wander

What can I do for someone?
In a collapsing world

*

Hobbit

The rain patters softly against his skin and he tries not to get any to bother his eyeliner. The stuff made him look good. He steps once and again into the puddles, his feet meeting the water in a clap and again. The only thing he can put confidence in is his voice, and it’s been a good performance so far.

He looks over at the Snowleaf once, unsure if they are to go on with the extra verse they had prepared but Woohyun seemed all for it. He nods, they nod; and together they combine once more to harmonize their last words. Streaming out, echoes of memories etched to the sky and rain. Reaching the moon in a ladder of droplets and the light of the moon. Silver gleamed, the skies smiled down. They were this year’s Moon Rabbit’s Dance.

His promise gave him energy, so he continued on. As one unit.

Gathering the power to slice open the future in my hands
Even if I’m surrounded by darkness, I want to overcome it
Going farther than anyone

*

“Do you see the koi fish?”

Sunggyu peers down from their perch on the rock. The Moon shined relentlessly on the pong, having it reflect into his eyes but he can see the shine of the Koi’s silve scales.

“Yes,” he watches their flowing fins swirl. “About them?”

“It’d be a wonder if we can dance like that,” Woohyun marks, sitting beside him. The night was still, the air turned warm again, despite the Snowleaf. “But you can’t, right?”

“Mm.”

“I apologize,” Woohyun turns, his face abash but candid. “My words were… hurtful.”

“They were,” Sunggyu huffs, hitting him once on the shoulder. “However hurtful, they were true. I cannot dance as Howon would like even if I were to die. I’m afraid I can only Shrunk Dance.”

That has Woohyun sputtering, breaking his ever stoic face and reducing him into a laughing kid. He kept pointing at Sunggyu, laughing at hearts content, “S-Shrunk Dance!” he howls, slapping his knee.

“What!” Sunggyu gets defensive, but it’s all play. “It’s a categorized dance!”

“It’s for newborns!”

“Well, you’re a newborn!”

Woohyun’s face seemed so hurt for a moment before they reduced back into an easy hoot. The comeback has them both bending at laughter’s ease, hitting each other’s back and the koi circled under them. They ghost, talking about everything under the sun, like Man and their bachelor’s party.

The star that I looked up at when I lost sight of things
Taught me that at all times—

“You know, Sunggyu of the Kim’ses Hobbiton, You are far too lazy. I will show you the depths of Snowleaf and you’ll be changed forever, to the Rivers of Cerit and the High ends of Sky Mountain. A Journey is needed in your life, oh most definitely for yours.” Woohyun smiles, imaging steel in the Hobbit’s hands. “Of course, only if you can even pick up a sword.”

“I can too!” Sunggyu snorts. “Well, Woohyun of the Nam Snowleaf of douchery” He hears Woohyun remark with “what” but he pays no mind, “Are you aware I have carried pounds of cheese into my pantries in one trip, not two? And as heavy as those wheels are, I can promise steel would be no challenge. If adventure calls, I too can answer!”

“Then let us travel!” Woohyun jumps up, pointing to the stars and Sunggyu for once does not fear. “The world is ahead!”

Excitement rushes through his blood and he seeks further pursuit. This chase that those lowly Dirt gave him, yes fear gripping him like a doll; but he had ran. Ran farther than he had ever thought he would, or ever can. He found this pond, the same very pond Woohyun frequents every year on this Festival. Maybe next year Sunggyu will be so far that the Carriers can’t find either of them, and the thought becomes an expectation.

The Moon Rabbit’s Dance is only his first trial.

On a journey, promised not only the koi fish beneath them but another adventure. And with Snowleaf Woohyun, Sunggyu of the Hobbits reaches out to take the opportunity of the unseen, stars where he never seen; land opening before him like another moon.

“To the Horizon!”

The light bright in the night sky is like a shooting star, certainly
It won’t disappear, at anytime, strong feelings
Are always in my chest

To the next equinox.

*♪*