The snow white rain fell from the clouds, a storm was brewing. Slowly, Jongin traced his steps on the snow, creating prints. The cold reached his bones, and he shivered in the wind.

He did a little piroutte, a mine-arabesque. He spun on his legs, tracing a full circle in the snow. 

The street was empty, everyone was confined in their homes, waiting for the snow to stop, or for the storm to reach. Jongin had no time for that. 

He remembered his childhood, and his early teens, when he decided to move to Busan to join an art school. All the years of practice paid off, and now he was the best ballet teacher in Seoul.

He was taking a masters in modern dance, after getting a bachelor in contemporary ballet. His mind wondered towards his childhood home, and the ballet parlour. 

And a little girl with a chalkboard in hands and a passion for music. 

 A snowball hit him on the head, and he whipped his head up to see who it came from. Two children were up on a balcony of the building, laughing their hearts out. A boy and a girl, one seemed like he was 8, the other 6.

The boy laughed weirdly, Jongin noted, the voice slightly pitchy. "Hey you kids!" Jongin shouted at them, slightly angry. 

The boy continued laughing, while the girl looked down in alarm. Fast hand movements, and dissapearing figures.

Jongin noted the balcony's floor level, and went inside the building. 

"Excuse me madam, but may I know the room of the children on the 4th level?" Jongin asked the receptionist. The receptionist (a woman) swooned over his good-looks.

"Uh, yes, sure", she stuttered, still slightly flusttered. "There are about 3 rooms with children on that floor, sir, could you narrow it down a bit?" she said again, serious this time.

Jongin decided to take a wild guess.

"A deaf boy, and a 6 year old girl, they were throwing snowballs outside", Jongin said, angry at the memory again. "Oh! Rae's room!" The receptionist said, immediatly recognising them.

"They're room 365, near the edge", the receptionist said, glad to be helpful. Jongin nodded her off, and walked towards the elevator.  

A ring echoes through the house, two pair of ears hear, one does not. He never has. A rush for the door, and with a swing...

"Raeyoung?" Jongin asks, not regretting the idea of coming to scold the children. A fast- paced hand movement,, before it is momentarily cut-off. "Sorry, it's a habit. Who are you?" The woman infront of the door asks. 

"Jongin. I'm Jongin. From the ballet parlour?", Jongin says, slightly unsure if this was the Raeyoung, his Raeyoung.

"Jongin?" Raeyoung asks, shocked.

Boy meets girl, heart revives, skips more beats. But now, now they are listening, with their hearts and ears.

Fin.