The tall, white-blond haired young man paused for a moment in front of Bluebell's Town Hall, knowing he had arrived a day earlier than planned. He turned around to face the rest of the village, taking in the picturesque scene before him, In the crisp Fall morning, early enough that he was the only one awake but late enough that the sun was already out and shining in full force, the village looked serene, and the silence was only broken by the soft lowing of cattle.

The young man smiled, and the village gave hime the first few notes of a song yet to be written in return. It was definitely good to be back.


Lillian groaned as her alarm clock sliced through her dreams like a guillotine, buzzing its own special form of six o'clock torture from the other side of the room, forcing her to leave the luxuries of her mattress and sheets in order to retrieve it and shut the damn thing off, making the taunting "snooze" button ever the less likely to be used. Sighing, the violet-eyed girl clambered out from her hiding spot under the warm sheets, half-heartedly petting her dogs, Marvel and Vivian, as she shut off the Devil's wake-up call and put food into the pet trough for the canines. Out of her whole day, the morning was definitely the most tedious and trying part. She wistfully thought of the mountain that lay just out of town, where adventure was always waiting with open arms.

"Not yet," she muttered, and exited her house without bothering with breakfast, knowing that eggs lay waiting in the chicken coop and the cows that needed to be milked. The sheep were probably over-grown with wool as well by now and needed to be shorn. Oh, how she despised the mornings and all the chores it brought.


As he waited for Rutger to open the currently locked doors to the Town Hall, the young man decided to wander around the village. He checked his watch: only a quarter after five in the morning. Nobody would be wake at this hour; even he was feeling fatigued from the long journey to the village from the last place he had visited. He would check into the Town Hall, rest the whole day, then begin preparing for the upcoming Music Festival scheduled for the tenth day of the season. His birthday, the twelfth day of Fall, would most likely be forgotten after the excitement of the Festival, with maybe a happy birthday from the mayor and boiled tofu from his wife. Some had asked him if he was bothered by the fact that his birthday was so soon after the festival, but it was actually quite the opposite; he was downright flattered by it. Music was his rock, his only solace after losing his parents when he was just a child. His teacher took the responsibility of raising him after that, and he became his surrogate father of sorts, and loved him very much. When it was his teacher's time to leave, music had transformed from a friend and comforter to the worst of enemies and a betrayer to his very heart. It took him far too long to even look at his violin again, the very violin his teacher had taken care of with so much pride and affection, like a second son, only second to the young man. Re-discovering music had been the best thing he had done in a long time, and he didn't plan on needing to do it ever again. Music was too special to him to be forgotten for so long that he would need to see and hear its beauty for the first time all over again. That was why he was so honored to have his birthday so close to the Music Festival; it was an inseparable part of him.

Moving his mind away from the tangent, he realized that on his stroll through the small village he had reached the entrance to the old tunnel that used to link Bluebell to the neighboring village of Konohana. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his long, brown coat and peered into the gloom, just able to make out the edges of the rock and rubble a few feet inside that was Goddess knows how thick, preventing easy access to the neighboring town due to some long-forgotten feud he had no part in, but was still somehow caught up in the thick of. While he stayed at the Town Hall, he was subjected to listening to Mayor Rutger every day complaining about how the residents of Konohana thought that they were so much better than the citizens of Bluebell, when Bluebell was quite obviously the better town. The young man just refrained from commenting whenever the subject arose in conversation (which was frequently, making the young man to appear quiet in demeanor). He personally thought that the mayors of oth towns only hated each other out of a feeling of tradition and necessity, and their own pride was the only thing that prevented either of them from making the first step to make reparations to their relationship. To the young man, it all seemed to be childish and unnecessary. Turning back to the Town Hall, noticing how it was somehow almost 6:30 already, he pushed open the now-unlocked dorrs and stepped inside, where the mayor's wife, Rose, greeted him with the warmest of smiles.

"You're early this year, dear. Come with me, your room's exactly as you left it. We're so glad to have you back after your early leave last year, Mikhail."

The young man smiled in return and nodded his head, too tired for words of thanks. He only had time to slip off his coat and shoes and place his things on the floor before falling to sleep straightaway on the soft, warm bed.