Warm rain taps softly on the dry ground. And slowly but steady the dusty earth becomes muddy.
The wet drops that pour down on Junho tickles his skin. He felt too cozy to get up right now.
The warm of the ground and the soft hum from the rain is a great combination to just drift back to slumber.

He wakes up because he feels hot, and sweaty. Tiredly rubbing his eyes Junho glares around him.
It should have been barely spring right? But why does the sun feel so stingy?
He stretches his tired limbs and sloppy sat up to glare angrily at his surroundings. Judging by the yellow he must have overslept, because -, wait what?!
Yellow?! There is no way his beloved plants could already have turned yellow!
He couldn’t have slept the whole summer through, or could he?
His sleepiness is suddenly gone and he jumps up to his feet. However his view doesn’t get any better. The grass should be lustrous green of course yellow is allowed in between in form of blooming buttercups or dandelions who look remarkably like little suns, or small white  cotton balls if they were already withered. The soft white parachute of a single seed that glides free over a healthy meadow, could barely be seen between the length of the spotless white yarrow, the clouds in the flower world.
But around him is none of anything, just yellowish brownish arid grass.
Some trees have managed to make sprouts but it’s meager, and the leafs which have made it out were already burned.

“What happened?”
He asks in utter shock while he softly caresses over what is left of the blades of grass which felt more like petting straw.  Honestly it hurt in all his fibers to see his fosterlings close to dying. It isn’t the drought though that made them go wimp. As the ground he has slept in still has been nicely moisturizing his skin, and he feels as young and fresh as ever. In contrary to his plants who aren’t in such a good shape. Angry with himself, for not being able to protect them any better, for falling asleep he decides to find the cause of all this pain.
Humans are his first guess but the thought quickly vanishes when he spots the true culprits, sitting comfortable chit chatting about the seasons.

The nerves they got! Messing up the season with their own egoism!
Oh luckily for them Junho isn’t a mountain spirit, or anything that has sources to the mother-glow also called lava, if he had he would surely spit everything in reach at them. 

Who did Wooyoung think he is? Just breaking the promise and therefore the cycle they once created. His steps are heavy yet steadily, he needs to calm down, or he may not be able to talk some sense into them.

“Yah!”
So much for stay calm Junho!

He chides himself as he closes the distance between them.
They don’t look up at him, which made him even more furious.
How rude they are, ignoring him, especially after all they have done.
He took a deep breath in order to yell at them, but stops suddenly in his action once he recognizes the sky around him. All he could do is stare, utterly bewildered but also amazed. He couldn’t have imagined this to be possible! Sure he does know rainbows, and even secondary rainbows and so one are nothing new to him, but this one is so different.
“What on earth… is that?”

He looks at the pretty color in different shades of red till pinkish and just a tint of maybe green or yellowish. He can’t say he sees blue, as the spot the color usually is, lookes like it has been overpainted with red, maybe a bit darker or the same warm purplish color