«­-(¯`·´¯)-««

Kim Jongin, age six. Easily startled.

In the days when screams were king, such a footnote would’ve been encouraging. Things are a lot different now though, and instead, Junmyeon sees a warning more than anything – they can’t scare kids anymore after all. Frightened children don’t laugh easily, and Junmyeon already has a hard enough time doing his job.

While waiting for the light over the closet door to turn red, Junmyeon fluffs the fur around his neck one more time, smoothing down his floppy ears as well. I’ve got this, he reassures himself as he twists the door handle and enters Jongin’s bedroom, smile wide and friendly.

“Jongin! Guess who!”

As expected, there’s a sleepy little boy in the room, wearing puppy-printed pajamas and a pout. He rubs his eyes and squints at Junmyeon without a hint of amusement on his face, unfortunately.

“A big bunny?” Jongin asks, blinking blearily as he takes in Junmyeon and his infamous dudumchit pose.

“Not a bunny,” Junmyeon insists, not quite sure what a bunny actually is, “I’m a monster. But a nice one. A funny one – the funniest!”

Jongin grudgingly chuckles, and just his smile’s enough to light up all of Monstropolis.

Success.

Summoning sprites is normally a difficult task, usually requiring ridiculously rare ingredients and complicated rituals. Luckily, Junmyeon’s one of the easier ones to call out.

"S-S-Stop that!" he chides through chattering teeth, his head poking above the lake’s surface. Minseok feels the light swipe of a webbed hand and quickly withdraws his finger from the water before he receives more than a smack. Unfortunately for Junmyeon, the threads of frost Minseok had created remain, prolonging the chill. "Just throw in an offering like a normal mage! Now I’m freezing!”

Minseok laughs, lowering his hand again so he can draw out the cold in icy wisps, returning Junmyeon’s waters to their usual temperature. “Sorry, sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“You shouldn’t lie,” Junmyeon sighs, whether out of exasperation at Minseok’s antics or in relief at the lake’s warmth. “I could curse you for that.”

They both know Junmyeon wouldn’t though. Beneath the scales, Junmyeon is one of the softest creatures Minseok’s ever met. Plus, he takes jokes pretty well, honestly.

“After I got you a present from the mainland?” It’s just a small trinket, bought during a run to the apothecary. But Minseok watches, pleased, as Junmyeon’s eyes light up.

“That book was actually meant for you,” Chanyeol admits grudgingly once Minseok’s out of earshot. He doesn’t know why he even bothers – Junmyeon had been thrilled with Kyungsoo’s vitamins, had obviously meant for that self-help book of his to go to Sehun. As responsible as Junmyeon tries to be, it’s hard to deny he plays favorites, and Chanyeol’s never been on his nice list.

There’s something about Junmyeon’s expression now though, under the dim Christmas lights of the hotel room rented out for their latest recording. Not quite skepticism, but there is a question there, written all over his face.

“I’ve already read The Little Prince. Multiple times, even.” His voice is soft, tentative.

“I thought…” Chanyeol hesitates, decides to take Junmyeon’s attention as encouragement for once, “a dorm copy would be nice. And that maybe you could discuss it with me sometime. I could use some new material, for my songwriting?”

There’s a small quirk to Junmyeon’s lips. He reaches up to gently ruffle Chanyeol’s hair like he never has before. “I’d like that.”

Chanyeol looks down at Junmyeon the way he always has. But for once, it feels like he’s finally seeing eye to eye with his hyung.

Sehun stretches beside him on the grass -- lazily, carelessly, heedless of the cameras zooming in on them and the staff scurrying around them -- and not for the first time does Junmyeon find himself transfixed. A little envious even, because what he wouldn't give for Sehun's ever growing height and the way his modelesque figure managed to salvage even the most ridiculous styling.

"You've grown so much," Junmyeon can't help commenting, eyes trailing down Sehun's long torso, his longer legs. His ankles peek out from between the hemline of his pants and his shoes, not entirely by design.

A small, smug smile spreads across Sehun's face. "I couldn't stay cute and pocket-sized forever, hyung. Not like some people."

It's easy not to rise to the bait, especially when Junmyeon’s known Sehun for as long as he has. Long-earned affection filters every one of Sehun’s misdemeanors in Junmyeon’s eyes, transforms them into love bites as gentle as Byul’s.

“You’ll always be cute to me,” Junmyeon assures him, leaning over to rest his head on Sehun’s shoulder. It’s easier to manage, lying down together like this instead of standing side by side. The distance between them doesn’t seem quite so far.

Jongin's hands are folded behind his back as he hunches over, as if to make himself smaller. An impossible task, considering the way he currently towers over all three of his older brothers, his head nearly banging against their ceiling. Jongdae glances between Minseok and Junmyeon and wonders which one will address the very large, Jongin-shaped elephant in their living room.

"What have we said about accepting food from Baekhyun?" Junmyeon starts sternly, crossing his arms. He's got that disappointed look Jongdae absolutely hates, that he only resorts to when he knows his usual genial approach won't get him anywhere.

Minseok nods his head in agreement, standing firmly in support of their second eldest. "You ate a mushroom off the ground. It probably wasn't even washed." He sounds more upset about that than Jongin's glaringly obvious disobedience, honestly.

The pout on Jongin's face is more pronounced than ever after his scolding, and not even because of his new size. "If I didn't, Jjanggu would've finished it off!"

"Jjanggu?" Jongdae asks, his heart sinking. His face pales as he's answered by a bark that echoes far too loudly and the sight of a giant black puppy nose outside their window.

Junmyeon would say he takes little pleasure in his job, of being the assigned rain spirit of a small rural region, but that would be a blatant lie. There are more plants out there that need his attention compared to the big, concrete cities, and the residents are a lot more respectful of his position. The elder ones anyway, who had grown up grateful for every drop of rain and each sprout resulting from his favor. As for the youngsters...

He watches from a distance as Oh Sehun slips, falling even further behind the other, older children. The kid is small now, but from the shape of his face and the lines in his palm and the alignment of the celestial bodies at the time of his birth, Junmyeon knows he's fated to shoot up like one of the trees Junmyeon's kept an eye on since it was a mere sapling, his body reaching for the sky even if he doesn't quite seem to have the disposition to do the same in his endeavors. Hopefully one day he changes, blossoms, flourishes into someone who makes Junmyeon proud of the fact that his roots started in this little town, nourished by Junmyeon's rainwater.

Right now though, he's the brat who picked his nose at Junmyeon's shrine though, wiping it on one of the pillars the groundskeeper tried so meticulously to keep clean. Spirits, even ones as old and wise and benevolent as Junmyeon, could not stand for such disrespect.

"Sorry, kid," Junmyeon says with not nearly enough sincerity as he wiggles his fingers in Oh Sehun's direction. The rainclouds that were supposed to water the crops later get shoved over and squeezed ahead of schedule, showering down on the boy's small body instead, and Junmyeon can't help but chuckle a little when Sehun starts to whine.

"I always thought all of Grand Master Yoda's people were..." Junmyeon's voice trails off, and not just because they're in the library and need to maintain some degree of quiet and respect. His face scrunches up as he tries to bring to mind whatever word he's looking for, twisting into that weird expression that makes him look a little constipated.

"Bad-ass?" Sehun offers, only to be rejected with a quick shake of the fellow Padawan's head. "Old?" Yet another rejection, though this one kinda startles Sehun -- it's hard to imagine someone like Grand Master Yoda as having once been a youngling. He racks his brain for more suggestions, mentally pulling up the images of both the Grand Master and Master Yaddle. "Uh, green?"

"Diminutive," Junmyeon finally admits in a muted whisper, covering his flushed face in shame, as if either of the two most skilled Jedi in the Order would care about being called such. Though, coming from someone of Junmyeon's stature, it is a little hypocritical.

As far as Sehun knows though, Junmyeon's initial assumption is correct though. He knows for a fact that Grand Master Yoda and Master Yaddle are both barely sixty centimeters tall, and from the holocrons he's checked out of their battles, they had both always been that size. In all of his studies, he hasn't come across anything imply otherwise, or even visual records of any other members of their species. The galaxy is a pretty big place though, and despite being the largest collection of knowledge in the Galactic Republic, the Coruscant Jedi Archives don't actually hold everything.

He narrows his eyes at Junmyeon. "You found out something, didn't you?"

"I got to meet one of the Master and Padawan pairs from the Silikan Stillness," Junmyeon starts, though Sehun interrupts before he can explain any further.

"That bookbarge that was scheduled to come in yesterday?"

Junmyeon makes a flicking motion with his fingers and uses his control over the Force to flick at Sehun's forehead without actually getting his hands dirty. "Don't call it that! It's a Corellian Colonizer!" His expression turns reverent, and not for the first time does Sehun wonder why Junmyeon hadn't instead turned to starfighters rather than archives given his enthusiasm. "But yeah, it's the one that docked yesterday. I went with Master Kyuhyun to help with welcoming the Jedi who've decided to stay with us for the time being, and one of the Padawans I met was... like Grand Master Yoda. Except tall."

Imagining a tall Grand Master Yoda is actually a lot harder than Sehun thought it'd be, and all he can come up with is a green, rubber-limbed creature with those familiar, gigantic ears. It doesn't look right at all. "There's no way," he immediately argues, "whoever you met has got to be another species. I bet they weren't even all shriveled and and wrinkly like Grand Master Yoda."

"Yeolda isn't wrinkly because he's like centuries younger than Grand Master Yoda," Junmyeon tells him, rolling his eyes. "But he's got the ears and the three fingers and the same speech patterns and everything. He's just. Really tall. Unfairly tall."

Junmyeon probably just means tall compared to Grand Master Yoda and Master Yaddle. Like seventy centimeters instead of sixty. For a species that tiny, even that small difference would seem huge. "Whatever," Sehun says, rolling his eyes right back at Junmyeon, just because he knows it irritates the other Padawan, "I'll believe it when I see it."




It takes less than a day for Sehun to see it.

"Sehun, you must be," the tall, green, giant-eared, three-fingered alien greets him with a smile that's wide, friendly, and utterly terrifying, "Yeolda, I am, but call me Chanyeol, friends do." Just like Junmyeon had insisted, Chanyeol is tall even by human standards, and he's not wrinkly at all. His skin looks as smooth as Sehun's own, his hair thick and dark, more like Master Yaddle than Grand Master Yoda. His amber eyes somehow brighter than any of Coruscant's three moons.

"Uh, yeah," Sehun mumbles, only continuing with his greeting when Junmyeon nudges him in the side with one of his bony elbows instead of the Force for once, "welcome to Coruscant, Chanyeol."

It's strange, having to actually look up at someone who wasn't a full-fledged Jedi Knight or Jedi Master. It's partially because most of the older Padawans they'd grown up with had left with their Masters to train themselves throughout the galaxy unlike Junmyeon and Sehun who had Masters and positions and paths of study that kept them stationed at the Order's headquarters instead, and partially because the few Padawans they did still see were fresh out of the Initiate stage, still younglings in the grand scheme of the universe and in their own cultures, yet to reach their destined heights. Even Sehun has a few more centimeters left in him before he stops growing, unlike poor Junmyeon.

"Very cool, Coruscant is," Chanyeol answers happily, looking around wildly even though Sehun can't imagine how different the Jedi Temple could be from one of the praxeum ships they have flying around the galaxy. There would still be Jedi of all ranks running around with holocrons and lightsabers regardless of whether or not they were in the temple or on the Silikan Stillness. Those things were basically entire cities on a single ship from what he's heard, even better maintained than most planets on the Outer Rim. "Looking forward to exploring, I am."

"We could show you around, couldn't we, Sehun? We've grown up here our whole lives."

Sehun blinks, probably for the first time since he's laid eyes on Chanyeol. "Yeah, we have. We could," he agrees, taking in Chanyeol's mega-watt grin. He wonders if this is what being under a mind-trick would feel like, except he's pretty sure no one would dare to do such a thing to fellow Jedi, especially in the sanctity of the temple.

But he's not quite sure how else to explain the foreign pounding in his chest, brought on by the sight of this alien and the way his ears curl and uncurl as he rambles nonstop to Junmyeon about training on a praxeum ship instead of a proper Jedi Temple, of his experiences throughout the galaxy on planets the two of them have only heard of in their lessons.




"You know," Sehun says later that night, when it's just him and Junmyeon again because Chanyeol had to go meet up with his Master to discuss his future training on Coruscant, "Grand Master Yoda's kind of cute."

Junmyeon makes a face. "Sehun, he's a millennium older than us. Please don't tell me this is going where I think it's going."

"What? Oh, gross, no!" Sehun's pretty sure his face matches Junmyeon's right at that moment, and he shoves the other Padawan's shoulder. "I just meant... His species? They're pretty cute guys. The ears are cute."

He feels his skin prickle under Junmyeon's stare, and not even in that nice tingly way the Force is supposed to make him feel. The way meeting Chanyeol had made him feel.

"Sehun," Junmyeon finaly says, clasping a hand on his shoulder with a strange look in his eyes, "be careful, okay? Meditate a little more on the Order's teachings and calm your heart." There's something about the way he says it that leaves Sehun uneasy, and he probably pulls away from Junmyeon a little more roughly than he intended.

"My heart is perfectly fine," he mutters. Lies. He doesn't remember ever lying to his friend before, not over something that wasn't like where the last pastry on his plate had disappeared to. "I was just saying. Don't we have to love and appreciate all beings in the galaxy?"

"Equally, yes," Junmyeon agrees hesitantly, his voice making Sehun's stomach twist into knots, "make sure to remember that part, too."

Maybe some of the clones were a little closer than expected, but with it becoming evident that each individual was starting to develop their own personalities, it was inevitable that some would favor certain other clones over others. It wasn't like loyalty within squads was considered a liability. Even their Jedi commanders, for all of their stoic codes and oaths to remain unattached and emotionless, still prized camaraderie and loyalty among their ranks.

Even if they were clones, they were still human. Not merely beings based off of one.

And yet, CT-0522 and CT-0408 -- who had chosen the names Junmyeon and Suho for themselves as soon as they and their cohort had been granted the freedom to do so -- were unnaturally close. Far too close. Close enough for more than a few Jedi eyebrows to rise.

"They sleep together," Jongdae pressed his palms up against his eyes as if he was trying to squeeze out the image of two clone troopers spooning. Baekhyun didn't really see why he was complaining, it must have been one hell of a sight and it wasn't like Jongdae had never been caught glancing at the ass of one of their assigned clone troopers. Whoever had been chosen as the newest template for the Republic's clone army after Jango Fett had been far more aesthetically pleasing than his predecessor. Not that Baekhyun or Jongdae's Masters needed to know either of them thought that. "I went in to ask Junmyeon to cover a monitor shift and they were curled so tightly around each other it was like they were a single person."

"Well, technically-"

"No, Baekhyun. No clone jokes."

"What about masturbation jokes then?"

Jongdae made a small, strangled noise. "We aren't even supposed to know about that," he whispers, looking around for any sign of their Masters, like the old guys were gonna strike them out of the Jedi Order for even uttering the word.

"Jongdae, isn't knowledge one of the pillars of the Jedi Order?" Baekhyun asked cheerfully, only bursting into raucous laughter when Jongdae smacked his shoulder.

Most people take one look at Junmyeon -- at his tiny frame and smooth hands and large glasses and thick sweaters -- and immediately deem him unworthy of his trade. Nevermind that he's been in business for years, that he's accrued even the most unnecessary of certifications. Just because he isn't all rippling abs and ninety kilos of pure muscle covered in a healthy layer of sawdust doesn't mean he's not good at his job.

"It's just that you're so small. And you look like you'd cut your hand off with your own table saw," Chanyeol explains unhelpfully, which is exactly when Junmyeon starts to shove him out of the store. "No, wait, ajusshi-"

"Hyung."

"But aren't you like a hundred years old--"

"Hyung," Junmyeon emphasizes, his smile even more strained as they widen enough to expose his fangs, "Don't make me repeat myself, Park Chanyeol."

It's not much of a threat to be honest. Chanyeol's family has a long history of being regulars -- high paying and loyal, everything a craftsman could dream of barring having to deal with constant reminders of their scion's personality faults -- and Junmyeon couldn't lift a finger against Chanyeol himself even if he wanted to, except maybe to flick at his forehead.

However, on most days, it doesn't seem like Chanyeol is actually aware of that little fact. Whether he understands exactly how much power his family wields in Seoul's Underground still isn't all that clear even after years of knowing each other, but Junmyeon has no idea how else they explain getting away with all of Chanyeol's accidents besides the three B's: bribery, blackmail, and beatings.

"Your order will be ready in two weeks. I'll send an email," Junmyeon says, polite and formal as always.

"Two weeks?!" Chanyeol asks, as if that wasn't the usual amount of time it took Junmyeon to take care of one of his orders, "But hyung, what am I going to do with them until then? They won't have anywhere to sleep!"

"You'll manage. This isn't your first time. I have confidence in you," Junmyeon recites, just like every other time they've gone through this mess because of Chanyeol's lack of impulse control.

As soon as his, admittedly best, customer has been shoved past the threshold of the store, Junmyeon withdraws his hands. His security system will handle the rest. He watches with no small amount of satisfaction as Chanyeol knocks on the glass doors with the saddest of puppy dog faces.

"Park Chanyeol, you are no longer welcome here," Junmyeon states very clearly, sealing the deal and the wards. Chanyeol's face somehow manages to look even more miserable, so he adds a quiet "for now" to soften the blow. But it doesn't change the fact that their business has been settled and Chanyeol no longer has a reason for loitering in his store.

Thankfully, there's enough history between the two of them that Chanyeol knows better than to push his luck by even attempting to make it past the wards, so it's little surprise that he doesn't bother sticking around the storefront long after that. Even he has to abide by the laws of invitation, no matter whose spawn he is. And now that Junmyeon can finally hear the poppy music playing over his speakers once again, he can relax. Mindless idol music really is a pleasant alternative to Chanyeol's boisterousness, almost sounds like a reward for having dealt with his fellow vampire for as long as he had.

He gets maybe an hour to himself, swaying back and forth to the beats of each song and mouthing the words silently as he takes a seat and starts drafting up the designs for his latest commissions. More often than not, business is always this slow -- carpentry isn't exactly a highly sought after craft nowadays and not many people appreciate a properly made coffin anymore -- but during times like this, he can't say he really minds it too much. A century is a long time to get used to slow days.

The first draft of the latest set of caskets is almost done, and he's just starting adjust the dimensions to fit the size of Chanyeol's latest recruits when the bell above the front door chimes. The only thing that stops him from quickly sliding his designs away and out of sight is the familiar view of two young men walking in. Instead, he leaves the papers where they are -- it's not like neither Jongin or Sehun don't already know what he's working on. It doesn't even feel like that long ago when he first made their very first coffins to sleep in.

"Hey, hyung!" Jongin greets first, grinning more widely with each step he takes closer, "Guess what?"

"If this is about Chanyeol turning another couple of people into his new lackeys last night, I'm already working on that," Junmyeon answers dryly. He glances once more at the papers on his counter and resists the urge to sigh. Like population control in Seoul wasn't already an issue without the rest of them having to worry about guys like Chanyeol going around and accidentally gnawing on necks whenever they felt like it.

His guess is easily dismissed with a shake of Jongin's head. "No, it's not about that. You know that new guy who works at the art store down the street? The dimple guy?"

"Jongin..." Sehun groans, already tugging at his friend's arm roughly, like that'll hold back the news Jongin's all too eager to share, "you weren't supposed to tell anyone."

"You never said that," Jongin says quickly before yanking his arm out of Sehun's grasp and speeding over to Junmyeon's side. "But hyung, you know who I'm talking about, right?"

It takes a moment -- Junmyeon's seen a lot of faces in his time, so many that sometimes it gets difficult to tell one human neighbor apart from another -- but eventually his memory stumbles upon the memory of a human with a soft lilt to his voice and a sheepish smile whenever he got his words mixed up. Ah, the dimples and v-cut necklines man who dropped by the week before.

"Zhang Yixing," he finally remembers, "what about him?" He hopes the guy isn't any trouble. The last time they had a hunter move into the neighborhood had been such a hassle. He still owed Kyungsoo a rather large favor for taking care of the man before anyone in their community had been staked. It'd be preferable if he didn't have to go calling their pest control guy in again.

Jongin glances over at Sehun who fixes a weak but warning glare on him. If he had enough blood in him, his cheeks would probably be nice and pretty and pink like Junmyeon's last snack. "Well, let's just say Sehun has been in the mood for Chinese take-out lately," he laughs, slapping a hand wildly on Junmyeon's shoulder as Sehun looks like he wants to die a second death.