a/n

Who else is a mourning military wife here? Lmao

I spent the last couple of weeks being miserable. Ahh, Junmyeon-ah. You’re doing ok, right? Even if you’re a who went to the wrong military camp on your first day of enlistment, you’re doing ok right??!!

Anyway, I loved writing this chapter :D it had me smiling so I hope it gives you a bit of joy as well. And I don’t know if you guys even played with marbles as a kid, but this  is what they look like lol

Also, do you know snakes and ladders??! God, I used to play that all the time. Imagine my surprise when I’m reading up on it for a fic, decades later as an adult, only to find out how complicated its meaning actually is? Read here  if you wanna know more :)))

I also cannot find a direct translation for engawa hahaha, but this is what it looks like

Hope y’all staying healthy and happy in these ‘unprecedented times’ kkkkk

 

 

 

 

 

4

Paradise

 

この限りある時間の中で
まだ見ぬ楽園目指して
どこまでだって僕等は
歩いてゆこう

 

In the limited time we have,

We'll look for an undiscovered paradise.

No matter how far it is,

Let's walk on..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Ah, harabeoji, you can’t just do that!” Chanyeol yelps. “That’s not fair!”

 

“All is fair in love and go-stop,” Chulmin crows. “Take that!”

 

The old man throws his last card down the pile, effectively ending the game.

 

“I was so close this time too,” the singer groans.

 

“It’s what you get for being greedy!” Chulmin barks as he gathers the chips. “You should have just gone with ‘stop’ when you had the chance.”

 

The singer puffs his cheeks. “You guys keep ganging up against me,” he says with a pout.

 

“We’re all tired of each other’s ugly mugs, that’s why,” says Insook to his right. “And what better target than a visiting brat?”

 

“But this brat is so handsome!” A hand reaches out and ruffles Chanyeol’s hair. “Aigoo, if only I were younger…”

 

“Eh, Miran-halmeoni doesn’t need to be young. You’re so pretty as you are right now!”

 

This earns Chanyeol a cackle of delight from the old woman, along with a slap to his thighs that he had to pretend didn’t hurt. The singer finds himself grinning, feeding off of the energy from this small group of old people. He was completely in his element here—he loved crowds, loved the attention, loved how easily a few saucy words from him can make them flustered and feel special. He liked that a lot, when people smiled because of him. It made him feel full, made him feel useful. Nothing felt better than the thought that somebody was smiling, laughing, or even felt a little less lonely because of him.

 

“Park Chanyeol!” Jeongja barks as she enters the recreational room. “I brought you here to help with the fair, what are you doing playing with these stiffs!”

 

“Halmeoni,” Chanyeol squeaks.

 

“Aw, give him a break you old bat,” Chulmin speaks up. “No one wants to blabber on about that when it’s this hot.”

 

“Our earnings from the fair are supposed to pay for an air conditioner, you rotting corpse,”Jeongja spats. “An air conditioner that this town hall wouldn’t need if you and Sugeun hadn’t broken the first one.”

 

“It smelled like it was burning so we poured water on it,” the old man says defensively. “Who knew that the darned thing didn’t like water!”

 

Chanyeol chuckles from the sidelines. Watching his grandmother and everyone else was more entertaining than television. Something about old people cursing always made him laugh, the offensive language belted out with scratchy voices—it tickled his ears and made his stomach hurt from holding in most of his giggles.

 

“Alright, alright enough of that. Come have some sikhye,” Insook placates as she puts down a tray on the table. She must have gone off to the kitchen to get the drinks.

Like magic, the shouting dies down and everyone shuffles to the table. Chulmin takes a big gulp out of his glass and sighs appreciatively.

 

“What I’m saying is,” he says. “It’s a fair. Food stalls, games, maybe some cheap clothes too. Why make it complicated?”

 

“Because we’ve been doing that for years and it has never been successful,” Jeongja answers as she takes her own sip. “We never sell enough.”

 

“People just are not coming,” Miran sighs. “Our village is too small and probably too far away for them to bother.”

 

Chanyeol listens to the elders intently, mulling over their concerns as he cools himself with the refreshing rice punch. A thought comes to him.

 

“Um,” he clears his throat while raising his hand like he is in a class. Five faces turn to him. “Have you tried advertising?”

 

“Of course we have,” Jeongja answers with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We got trucks runnin’ to the nearby towns for a whole week before we even open our two-day fair.”

 

“Not that, halmeoni. I meant like, online? Maybe use SNS? That way, even people from far away can know about it.”

 

“Online? SNS? What is that?”

 

The next hour is spent with Chanyeol trying to explain how the internet works—which proved to be much more difficult than he’d imagined. He should have known, most people in the village still used landline telephones, after all. Even the cellphones that the elders had with them right then were all flip phones with no internet at all.

The impromptu internet class is cut short with the arrival of Im Chunhwa, the president of the Women’s Union.

 

“Chanyeol-ah, you’ll need a whole week to teach these old-timers,” she says with a chuckle. “And even then, you’ll only be able to teach them what a website means. Why not you and me work on that online advertising thing along with the other young’uns?”

 

The singer agrees, and a collective sigh of relief from the elders beckons laughter from his lips. “What is this,” he asks incredulously. “Did you hate my lesson that much?”

 

“It’s a good thing you’re a celebrity,” Chulmin deadpans. “You’d have a whole class of flunkers if you’d gone into teaching.”

 

“Harabeoji!” Chanyeol whines with a laugh.

 

“I hate to say it but he’s right,” Miran says apologetically. “It’s alright, Chanyeollie. At least you’re pretty and them high-schoolers love your songs.”

 

“Ah! That reminds me,” Insook muses. “You used to play the piano for us before.”

 

Chanyeol freezes.

 

Insook nods her head towards the town hall’s cloth-covered piano, sitting by the far corner of the room “That old thing’s been sitting lonely for a long time now. Care to play some old tunes for this hag?”

 

The singer furtively glances at the piano before looking down at his lap. “I’m sorry halmeoni,” he says in a small voice. “I’m out of practice. I haven’t played in so long, I’ve probably forgotten how to.” He adds a laugh at the end, making it sound trivial.

 

Jeongja frowns at that statement, and she knew Chanyeol could feel it. But the boy wouldn’t meet her gaze. She doesn’t like how he curls in on himself. The others don’t seem to miss it either, with how the mood of the room goes down.

 

“O-oh! Is that so. That’s all right, that’s all right!” Insook assures in an overly cheerful tone. “Don’t worry about it. At least you’re not as bad as Chulmin who forgets his daughter’s name every week.”

 

“Yah!” the grandfather barks and the rooms erupts in laughter, the momentary tension dispelled.

 

Chanyeol stands up from his spot on the floor after the titters die down. “I’m sorry I have to cut this short, halmeonideul  and harabeoji,” he apologizes. “But I have to go now. I’ll keep dropping by for the fair, though. Oh, and also for the sikhye!  Insook-halmeoni makes the best sikhye in the country.”

 

He leaves, but not before leaving a compliment for everyone in the room, save for his own grandmother. He makes sure to leave only after flooding the elders with affection, and after the mood of the room is thoroughly brightened. It wouldn’t do for an idol to leave a room gloomy now, would it?

 

Jeongja does not say anything to him. She was letting it go this time, but her eyes tell Chanyeol that he should expect to be confronted about it sometime soon.

 

He finally steps out, and he leans on the door after closing it behind him. His eyes flutter close with a tired sigh. He should really work on masking his emotions better.

 

With the silence, his mind conjures the image of a lone figure by a pond.

 

Chanyeol smiles. At least his next destination won’t be as exhausting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chanyeol’s room is a mess.

He’s searched his shelves, his closet—throwing out its contents as he tried to look for things to bring Junmyeon.

But what do you even bring a kitsune? Surely he wasn’t interested in clothes? That comprised more than half of what the singer had in his possession currently. Chanyeol even briefly entertained the idea of showing the fox spirit his phone, but he soon shook his head. He’d had enough of teaching about modern technology for the day. Besides, did Junmyeon even know about telephones? He was probably even more outdated than the elders of the village…

Chanyeol purses his lips as he looks around his room once more. He wanted something that would cheer Junmyeon up. But all Chanyeol seemed to have were clothes and shoes and gadgets. He runs his hands through his hair in frustration, and his eyes fall on his bed.

He drops to his knees and reaches for something underneath the bed, his hands tapping on dust. His fingers brush against a familiar shape.

 

“Ah-hah!”

 

He shouts in delight and pulls the box from the dark recesses of the bed. Out comes a large carton box. It had been a container for oranges that young Chanyeol had appropriated for his own use, calling it his very own treasure box that no grownup was allowed to touch.

Chanyeol excitedly opens the lid, not minding the cloud of dust that the motion produces. He sneezes twice, but he can’t be bothered to find a napkin for his snot. He felt like he was seven again, faced with all the goodies and trinkets from his childhood. There are marbles, comic books, chopped up figures, rocks and playing cards—so much junk that he had thought of as treasure as a child.

The singer grins as he closes the box. This was it, this was what he could bring to Junmyeon!

He hastily closes the box and springs up from the floor. He makes his way to the door, momentarily considering putting the box down so he could twist the doorknob, when the door opens and reveals his grandmother.

 

“Oh!” Chanyeol yelps. “Thanks for opening it, halmeoni!” He sidesteps her and goes out the door, much to the old woman’s surprise.

 

“Chanyeol-ah, where on earth are you going?”

 

“To the forest!” the grandson shouts without looking back.

Jeongja wonders why Chanyeol had that old box with him and deliberates asking him about it. She shakes her head and dismisses it with a shrug. “Kids are so strange these days,” she sighs as she closes the door with a fond smile.

 

 

 

 

 

Junmyeon pulls at the grass by his feet restlessly.

He’s tried to distract himself all day, busying himself with his chores so as to not let his mind wander to the thoughts of the white-haired boy he’d met the day before. He shouldn’t get his hopes up, he knew that. But still…

He leans over to poke his finger through the pond’s surface. Not even the water can take away his agitation, it seems. With a sigh, he leans backwards. The sun was still up, but its rays were barely even warm now. The day was almost over. Maybe he should—

 

“Junmyeon!”

 

The fox spirit jumps at the noise, his tails shoot straight up in fright and his ears twitch frantically, looking for the source of the sound. A figure emerges from the thin border of the trees and Junmyeon’s heart thunders in his chest at the familiar sight of Chanyeol.

The blond makes his way towards him, face stretched in an easy smile, eyes shining with enthusiasm.

 

“I knew I didn’t dream you up,” he exults as he arrives at Junmyeon’s side. “I mean, I thought I did, coz you know, who the hell meets kitsune in Korea? But it was too strange to be a dream, felt too real and all that? I was convincing myself all the way here that I wasn’t crazy and that you were real and—“ The singer stops rambling after receiving no response from his listener. “Something the matter?”

 

 “Y-you’re here,” the fox spirit whispers in awe.

 

Chanyeol smiles in amusement. “Should I not be?”

 

“No—Yes! I mean… You know who I am?” Junmyeon looks straight into the singer’s eyes searchingly.  “You remember my name?”

 

“I just called you that!” Chanyeol laughs this time. “Junmyeon. That’s your name.”

 

The kitsune’s lips tremble and Chanyeol’s eyes widen in alarm.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asks worriedly.

 

“People who leave the forest never remember,” Junmyeon says in a small voice as he looks down at his feet. “Everyone forgets about me.”

 

The singer’s heart positively drops at the confession.

 

“This forest must have some sort of enchantment in it,” the kitsune continues. “But everyone who happen to meet me will always forget about me once they leave…”

 

“Well, I didn’t.”

 

Chanyeol steps forward. He wants to use his hand to raise the fox spirit’s head, or even thread his fingers with the other. He wants to touch, to comfort. Chanyeol has always been affectionate with everyone, his language of care spoken through touch. But he doesn’t know for sure if the boy would be comfortable with those kinds of touches. He chooses to bring a hand to the kitsune’s shoulder instead.

 

“Junmyeon. Hey.” The fox spirit raises his head, eyes locking with Chanyeol’s comforting ones. “I remember you. And I told you yesterday I’d come back. You’re my friend now, see? I don’t forget my friends.”

Junmyeon’s eyes fill with water, but he is smiling. He brings a hand to touch the hem of Chanyeol’s shirt, rubbing the cloth against his fingers as if to convince himself that the boy standing before him was indeed solid.

 

“Alright,” he nods. “Alright.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Rain!” the singer yelps, grabbing hold of his box with one hand and Junmyeon’s wrist with the other. He leads them to a nearby tree, using his tall body as an umbrella and protecting the box as best as he can. It wouldn’t do for it to get wet—it had too many things in it for Chanyeol to gather one by one if the box tore apart.

 

“Where did this rain even come from?” he wonders aloud.

 

The fox spirit knows, but he is too embarrassed to admit it.

Chanyeol peers at the sky, instantly noting the sunshine. “Look, Junmyeon,” he says excitedly. “It’s a sun shower! It was like this yesterday too, I wonder if it’s common around here…”

 

“We call it a fox rain,” Junmyeon whispers.

 

“Did you say something?” Chanyeol turns to look at the fox spirit instead.

 

“N-no…”

 

The singer looks up at the sky again, evidently enjoying the sight.

Junmyeon’s ears momentarily flatten against his head. Maybe he can tell Chanyeol about fox rains some other time…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“This has everything I liked as a kid,” Chanyeol tells Junmyeon, opening the flaps of his box.

 

The rain has stopped, and the pair had made their way to the clearing beside the pond. The ground is damp, but neither of them minded. They are seated infront of each other, with Chanyeol’s box in between them.

The fox spirit nods, and two heads peer into the opening.

Chanyeol winces inwardly at the sight that greets them. It didn’t seem as remarkable as it did when he looked at it in his room—right now his so-called treasure box looked like some random person’s trash. He glances nervously at Junmyeon, fearing that the kitsune would be unimpressed.

Instead he is rewarded with the sight of the fox spirit lowering his head into the box, ears twitching now and then with interest. A small hand cautiously reaches out and paws at the items gingerly. The kitsune’s head also bobbed at each item momentarily, before moving on to the next.

Chanyeol’s eyes widened. Was he…smelling them?

The singer almost giggles at the adorable act, but he holds it in, fearing that Junmyeon would think Chanyeol was making fun of him.

 

Junmyeon lets out a gasp. “Something just sparkled!” He looks up from the box, eyes widened in wonder.

 

“Hmm? Oh, I think I know what that is.” Chanyeol reaches into the box, hand blindly searching. With a triumphant cry, he pulls out a small bag—more of a net, really—full of colorful, shiny glass marbles. They catch on the sun’s light, and seemingly burst into a swarm of sparkles.

It should not have been possible, but Junmyeon’s eyes widen even further, his mouth left agape in amazement. “What are they?” he breathes.

 

“They’re called marbles.”

 

“Marbles,” Junmyeon tries out. “Are they some kind of gems?”

 

The singer laughs. “Oh no, no. They’re just cheap things,” he says. “They’re made of glass, I think?”

 

But that doesn’t seem to lessen the kitsune’s fascination with them, so Chanyeol opens the net bag and rolls down the opening so Junmyeon can see them more clearly. They were of different colors—mostly clear with an s-shaped green streak inside of them. Some were emerald in color, some in dark blue. Quite a few had scratches here and there—battle scars from countless games.

 

“Go on,” Chanyeol encourages. “You can touch them.”

 

Junmyeon’s hand gently brushes over the marbles. They feel smooth under his fingers, and slightly cold to the touch. “They’re so pretty,” he breathes.

 

 “Here, let me show you something cool.” Chanyeol puts the net bag down on the grass beside his leg, and he picks up two of the larger blue marbles. He hands one to Junmyeon. “Hold it up towards the light, and then slowly bring it towards your eye.”

The singer does it first to demonstrate, and the fox spirit watches with rapt attention. Junmyeon takes the other marble hesitantly and does the same.

 

“See that little spot of light inside the marble?” Chanyeol coaches. “Focus on that as you bring it closer to your eye.”

 

The fox spirit nods in acknowledgement.

 

“Chanyeol!” he soon gasps. “There are bubbles inside! How did they get there? It’s like—Oh, it’s so blue! They almost look like a splash of stars…”

 

Chanyeol grins in satisfaction. “Pretty cool, huh? When I was a kid, I thought the marbles had little oceans inside them, like their own world compressed into a glass ball, you know? I never got tired of them.”

 

The fox spirit nods, and his tails swish enthusiastically behind him. “I see how this would be an entertaining toy, I suppose you and your friends sat together like this and stared into these…marbles all afternoon?”

 

Chanyeol outright laughs at the idea. “You are so cute,” he groans. “To answer your question, no. We didn’t sit around looking into marbles. What kids usually did was to spread some on the ground as targets. And then you’d get down on your knees and use a marble of your own to try and hit them.”

 

Junmyeon blinks and tilts his head, obviously clueless about what Chanyeol meant. Surely nothing was more enjoyable than feasting one’s eyes with the pretty sight inside of the marbles?

The singer takes note of the fox spirit’s reaction and quickly lines up two small marbles on the ground. “You flick your marble with your finger like this.” He flicks the marble, and it bounces off the other one. “If you successfully hit the target like that, then you win and you get that marble as a prize. If you don’t hit it, then you pay with one of your marbles.”

 

“O-oh… I suppose that is an amusing activity as well,” Junmyeon says politely. He brings up his blue marble to his eye again, his obviously uninterested in the game.

 

Chanyeol can only shake his head at how taken the kitsune was with it.

 

“Ah, and speaking of games.” The blond reaches back into the box. “I’m sure I had that somewhere in here.”

 

Junmyeon puts the marble down and watches as the singer pulls out a rectangular box from the pile. “What’s that?” he asks.

 

“This, my friend,” he announces with a grin. “Is called Snakes and Ladders.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Oh no, you bad girl!” Junmyeon scolds at the board. “You shouldn’t break your dolls like that.”

 

With a regretful sigh, he moves his piece back to Square eleven.

Chanyeol inwardly cheers. He himself had been ahead in the game, until he threw a bad roll and landed on square 87—the one with the longest snake—and had to go back to square 24.

Such a simple game proved to be very difficult to explain to the kitsune. As a child, Chanyeol hadn’t been taught about the how’s and the why’s, he’d only played following the simple mechanics of one, roll the die; two, move your piece according to the number you roll; three, if you land on a snakehead, you need to follow the snake back down until you reach the tail. But if you land on a ladder, then you follow it upwards. The person who reaches Square 100 wins the game.

But why, Junmyeon had asked.

There are pictures of various children on the board, all doing some sort of action. A quick look at them and Chanyeol infers the game to be one of a cause-and-effect thing. “If the kid is doing something good, they are rewarded. That’s what the ladder is for, see? It lets you win. But if you land on a square where a child is doing something wrong, then snake is like a punishment and you go back for a number of squares. Like this boy,” the singer points to Square 47. “He’s hitting the pig, which is bad, so we follow the snake down to where his grandfather is punishing him for it.”

 

“But it’s not my fault they’re being naughty,” Junmyeon had pouted, once again rousing a chortle from the blond.

 

“I know, but it’s a game of luck, see? It all depends on how lucky you are at rolling the dice.”

 

Chanyeol guessed that it was a way of telling kids about good and bad deeds. He had told Junmyeon so, which seemed to placate him.

 

“I suppose it’s a useful game then,” he concedes. “Human games can be quite odd…”

 

For all that discussion though, they both cannot decipher how some of the pictures were bad and some were good. Square 1, for example, showed a girl holding something (was it a bouquet of flowers? Neither of them could tell) It was apparently a good deed, and the ladder goes up to Square 38, where the same girl is now for some reason kneeling beside a teddy bear.                                                                                               

Trying to interpret each picture proved to be exhausting for both of them, and they abandon the logic of it and just played casually. For a while, all that could be heard were groans and cheers, punctuated by laughter in between.

 

Chanyeol wins the first game, but Junmyeon quickly calls for another round. The kitsune wins the next, and the rest of the afternoon melts away with them trying to get more wins than the other.

 

It is Junmyeon’s turn now, and all he needs now is a roll of 4 to win the game. He grips the die in his hand and, after a moment of shaking it in his palm, he softly tosses it.

Four! he wills the die, and a spark of magic tilts the it to show the four-dotted side.

Junmyeon gasps, and Chanyeol groans in defeat.

The fox spirit’s stomach drops.

 

“Oh no,” he whispers, and covers his face with his hands in shame. “I’m so sorry!”

 

“Hm?” Chanyeol glances up at his friend. “Why are you saying sorry now, mister, you weren’t so repentant when you beat me the other seven times.” He ends it with a laugh, but Junmyeon only seems to curl in further into himself.

 

“I—I cheated!” the kitsune confesses from under his hands, clearly agitated. “Just now, I made it roll a 4. I didn’t mean to, I—I just wanted to win and I accidentally used magic!”

 

“Wha—you can do that?” the singer asks incredulously.

 

Junmyeon peeks at him from between his fingers. Chanyeol didn’t seem mad, to his relief.

 

The fox spirit nods timidly.

 

“Dude, seriously?” Chanyeol exclaims. “That’s awesome! I mean, yeah, cheating isn’t cool and all. You didn’t mean to do it though, right? So it’s fine. But more importantly Junmyeon.” He pries the fox spirit’s hands from his face, compelling the other to look into his eyes which were gleaming with excitement. “You have magic?”

 

Junmyeon nods, slightly confused at the turn of events. But Chanyeol’s hands were warm on his fingers. “All kitsune have magic…”

 

He flinches at the loud, incredulous laugh from the blond.

 

“Oh my god, this is too much,” the singer continues to laugh. “Sehun would be so green with envy. Junmyeon, why are you so cool? Tell me, what can you do with your magic, aside from enslaving dice?”

 

The fox spirit takes back his hands from Chanyeol’s grip. He subtly touches his arms, to check his own temperature. The marbles had been certainly cold, but Junmyeon didn’t think his skin was that cold to the touch. Maybe Chanyeol meant something else whenever he said ‘cool’?

 

“W-well, I can heal animals to some extent,” Junmyeon answers hesitantly. “I can help plants grow, too, if they need it. If the land is too dry, I can call for water from underneath the ground. Most of my magic is intended to help farmers, see? But… but I can also do other things like obscure myself so I cannot be seen, or alter my appearance…”

 

Chanyeol listens with unblinking eyes, head nodding furiously with each sentence. “I like the others, but invisibility? Dude, that’s like, the best superpower out there! And I think I’ve heard of gumiho being able to transform as well? My grandmother used to tell me stories of how gumiho would turn themselves into beautiful women to lure guys into forests so they could eat their liver.”

 

The fox spirit positively pales. “That is horrible.”

 

“It is! That’s why I’m glad you’re not a gumiho,” the blond admits with an easy laugh. “Have you ever tried turning yourself into someone else, though?”

 

“Sometimes… my brother Baekhyun and I would make ourselves look human whenever we went to visit the human village. It was not that much of a transformation… we just made our tails and ears disappear and change our clothes to look like those of the villagers.”

 

Chanyeol’s eyes gleamed expectantly. “Show me! Please?”

 

The fox spirit tries to disagree, it takes a lot of energy for him to do that kind of magic these days. But his friend looked so expectant, and that half pout on Chanyeol’s lips effectively dissolved what was left of Junmyeon’s hesitation.

 

“A-alright…”

 

Junmyeon scoots back a little, and then closes his eyes in concentration. Chanyeol watches as the fox spirit’s large tails shimmer and disappear into nothingness. The fuzzy ears do the same, and a pair of human ears peek out from underneath the turquoise hair.

 

“Whoa…” the human breathes.

 

Junmyeon opens his eyes and the purses his lips at Chanyeol. “I do not know what to transform my robes into, I haven’t been outside the forest for a while now. Do you mind if I copied your clothing?”

 

The singer looks down at his large, dark sweatshirt and torn jeans. “Um, sure?”

 

The kitsune closes his eyes again, forming the picture of the pieces of clothing in his head. He’s not really sure if it’s working, but Chanyeol’s delighted laughter assure him he’s doing all right.

 

Junmyeon opens his eyes. On his body were exact copies of his human friend’s clothes—too exact, it seemed. He lifts his arms and sees that his fingers do not even reach the opening of the sleeves, with a good six inches of cloth hanging empty. The pants, too, were too large for him. He wiggles his toes to make sure they’re still there, he couldn’t see them from all the excess folds of denim.

The fox spirit’s mouth curls down in a displeased pout. He was clearly not used to doing this anymore.

 

Chanyeol on the other hand, was frozen in shock, mouth hanging open at the sight before him. Junmyeon looked so handsome, even if (or was it especially because?) the clothes were too big on his slight frame. He was positively drowning in them, and Chanyeol couldn’t help but notice the milky white skin peeking out from the torn parts of the jeans. Not that he was deliberately raking his eyes over them, no. It was just…and accidental discovery… worth taking note of.

It was like how people who always wore suits look exceptionally striking in casual wear—the sweatshirt and jeans on Junmyeon appeared foreign on him, but it gave him such an appealing touch. And knowing that it was Chanyeol’s clothes, too… he gulps down the nervous flutter that arises from his stomach.

 

He can only watch as the fox spirit flailed around, trying to make his short limbs appear from the ends of the clothes, with little success. Chanyeol could barely restrain himself from reaching over and pinching Junmyeon’s cheeks—he was that adorable.

 

“Ah, this is too cumbersome,” Junmyeon huffs. And with a pop, the modern clothes disappear and he is back to being the usual kitsune.

 

Chanyeol whines in disappointment before he can stop himself. “But you looked so cute!”

 

An embarrassed flush appears on Junmyeon’s cheeks. “No, I didn’t. I couldn’t even make the clothes fit me.”

 

“Aw, don’t be like that, you did great!”

 

The fox spirit tries to come up with an argument, but a glance at their surroundings makes him jump up from the ground. “Oh dear, it is almost dark!”

 

Chanyeol looks around him and is shocked when he sees the orange sky, rapidly darkening by the minute. Where did time go? He hadn’t expected to be out this late. He stands up from the ground, dusting himself off in the process. “I had too much fun and lost track of time,” he says sheepishly. “It looks like I have to get going now.”

 

Junmyeon nods.

 

The singer points to the box. “Take care of the box in the meantime, will you? I don’t wanna have to lug it back.”

 

“Of course,” the fox spirit agrees easily. “It is the least I can do, after all the fun you let me have today.” His arms curl protectively over the box.

 

Chanyeol cannot help himself, he reaches over and pats Junmyeon on the head.

The kitsune’s eyes flutter shut, his lips curling up into a blissful smile as he leans into the singer’s hand.

 

“I’ll come back tomorrow, okay?” Chanyeol tells him.

If it were some other human, Junmyeon would have just taken the statement as a goodbye. But this was Chanyeol. The first human to ever come back for him. “I’ll wait for you here,” he hums.

 

The hand on his hair disappears, and when Junmyeon opens his eyes the human was already walking away. Chanyeol turns back after a few steps.

 

“Junmyeon,” he says. “You can have the marbles, but don’t look at the box by yourself. I’ll show everything to you and we’ll play them all together, okay?”

 

The fox spirit’s eyes widens, and he palms the blue marble, warmed from not having left his lap ever since. He also glances down at the small bag of the remaining ones, glimmering softly on the ground. Surely…surely Chanyeol did not really mean to give him all of these?

 

“But--!” Junmyeon calls after the human. “Are you sure?”

 

“You like them a lot, much more than I do. Keep them.”

 

Later, when the human is out of sight, Junmyeon makes sure to pocket the marbles first. He grips both sides of the box. He moves to get up from the ground, but a sudden wave of weakness pulls him back down.

 

Oh.

 

He really shouldn’t have used that much magic in a day. He remembers Chanyeol’s amusement, however, and decides he doesn’t regret it.

He tries again, and this time succeeds in getting up. His knees wobble, and it felt like his legs were waterlogged. He purses his lips in concentration. He can’t fall and damage Chanyeol’s things now, can he?

He makes his way home, the usual short trip leaving him breathless. He gently places Chanyeol’s box by the door, safely tucked by the corner. He decides he can’t be bothered with preparing for a meal now. His eyelids felt heavy, his body crying for a night of lengthy sleep.

He ambles toward his closet, taking out his futon and covers. He remembers something, and he slides the door to the engawa open. Carefully, he takes out the marbles. He lines them up on the door rail on the floor, where they can catch the light from the moon once night comes.

He pulls his futon so it’s right by the door, his head directly beside the line of the glass balls. He finally lets himself collapse on his bed, automatically lying on his side so he can admire his new playthings. They look as pretty as ever, even without much light to make them glimmer now. Junmyeon does not lament it, he’s sure they’ll look magical in the morning.

He brings out the larger blue marble, his favorite one.

 

Mother, Father, Baekhyun… are you watching?

 

 His fingers curl over the smooth ball and he hugs it to his chest.

 

I think I have a friend now…

 

The tendrils of sleep finally claim him, his heart b with pleasure as his eyes flutter shut and his mouth curve into a tender smile.