Been listening to a lot of Decemberists, as always, and reading Kitty_KatAllie's Hetalia Fairy Tales (thanks for the inspiration, Kitty!) Warnings for emotional abuse referencing the actual cultural erasure which went on in the Japanese occupation of Korea and Kiku being not exactly evil but definitely a dick. I don't mean it as bashing, I promise. Enjoy.
High upon the mountainside in the land beyond the rising sun, there was a small and lonely hut, and in it lived a poor and lonely man. Kiku Honda was his name, and all he had to it was his hut and his hardworking hands. In summer he foraged, and in winter he hunted, and all times he cut and carried wood to earn the little money he needed. He enjoyed his peace and quiet and he always had just enough to eat. And if he was alone, what of that?
One year a winter came harsh and early, and Kiku took his bow and arrows and went to hunt for food. He moved as silently as any beast of the forest, but the winter was so harsh they had all fled for warmer climes. Further down the mountain he went, but the snow blew up and the wind howled and the steel-grey sky grew dark, and Kiku had only rags for a coat. He had made up his mind to turn and try again tomorrow when he saw movement, and quick as a flash he fired an arrow. There was a screech, almost lost in the wind, and he ran towards it, finding a trail of red rapidly being hidden by the falling snow.
To his horror, when he found the fallen creature, it was a crane; a beautiful bird, with long soot-black legs and ink-black wings and night-black head on a body as white as the snow, and a cap of feathers as red as the blood on its wing. Kiku held it, surprised it did not struggle, and examined its wing; nothing more than a flesh wound, it would heal well in time. He broke the arrowhead and drew the shaft out, and held packed snow to the wound until the bird stopped bleeding. He helped the bird to its feet and watched it run flapping away with no regret for a lost meal, for everyone in the land beyond the sunrise knew it is the worst of luck to slay a crane.
Kiku went to bed hungry but content that night, saving the little food he had for when he would truly need it. He awoke to see the snow had stopped, and the dawn made the white ground shine like gold. A good omen, he thought, and took his bow and arrows to hunt again, but as he opened his door, he heard a merry song echoing up the mountain.
"Look on me, look on me, look on me! In midwinter when you see a flower, please think of me!"
The singer turned around the mountainside, and Kiku saw him; a youth with snow-white clothes and soot-black shoes and night-black hair, and cheeks flushed blood-red from the cold. He stopped singing and looked up to see the astonished man.
"Hello there, sir!" called the boy in an unfamiliar accent, waving a hand.
"Hello yourself!" said Kiku. "What are you doing this far up a mountain at dawn? Where are your parents?"
"I have none, sir." The boy arrived at the door, and bowed politely, a curl of his hair bobbing as he did.
"You're lost?" Kiku cried.
"I didn't say that, sir."
"Well, come in, you'll freeze out here." Kiku urged the boy inside, and let him take off his soft black shoes. "I can boil a little rice if you're hungry. I'm sorry I haven't much to offer."
"Not a problem, sir," said the boy, shaking off his coat outside. Kiku saw the snow crystals fall from it, leaving the glossy white cloth as dry as if they had never been there. "I intend to pay you back one day. I pay my debts, da se!" He smiled as warmly as a sunbeam.
"Let us not speak of debts now, boy, I think introductions are in order first. I am Kiku Honda, what is your name?"
"It's nice to meet you, Honda-ssi," said the boy, bowing again. "Im Yong-Soo, at your service."
"It is nice to meet you too... Imu Yonsu?" Kiku bowed, and if Yong-Soo giggled at his pronunciation, what of that?