The sun had long disappeared beneath the horizon when Fheniz sat on the small porch of his stone house. The night was peaceful, with a cool breeze rolling in from the distant hills. He stretched his legs, exhausted from the day's work but relaxed in the quiet. It wasn't long before the rhythmic clatter of wooden wheels on dirt reached his ears, accompanied by the unmistakable bray of Burohagikun's donkey. Fheniz sat up straight, a smile already tugging at the corners of his lips. As promised, Burohagikun was back—right on time.
Burohagikun's "ass-kart" came to a stop just a few feet away from the house, and with a grunt, the old shoemaker jumped down from the cart, landing solidly on the barren ground. Fheniz stood up, dusting off his ¾ shorts, and greeted Burohagikun with a grin. "Come along!" he said as he opened the creaky door to his humble home, stepping inside and lighting the oil lamp that sat on the corner table.
Burohagikun followed, his eyes sweeping over the stone walls of the small house. "Welcome to me!" he declared with his signature wing-bing laugh. "Nice house ya got, brat!"
Fheniz let out a yawn and stretched his arms above his head. He was bone-tired after the day's work and couldn't help the pang of embarrassment that crept up as he glanced around at the mess. Dirty dishes cluttered the small countertop, clothes were strewn across the floor, and his bed was a tangled mess of blankets. The small couch in the corner looked like it had seen better days—its cushions were worn, torn, and covered in dust. Still, this was his home, and he smiled sheepishly.
"Thanks, but see, it's all messed up," Fheniz muttered as he pointed out the disarray.
Burohagikun waved a dismissive hand, plopping himself down on the rickety couch with a loud thud. "Eh, no big deal. I didn't come here to judge ya house, brat. I came to chat ideas with ya!"
Fheniz grinned in appreciation. He was thankful that Burohagikun never seemed to care about things like this. He had always been more focused on the bigger picture.
"Tea?" Fheniz offered, making his way over to the small stove in the corner.
"Ah, sure!" Burohagikun quipped, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Fheniz laughed softly as he put a pot of water on to boil. He knew better this time. Anticipating his uncle's arrival, he had stopped by a small vendor on his way back from the shop earlier and picked up some ingredients for the special flower tea Burohagikun loved. He added the dried petals into the boiling water, letting their floral scent fill the room. With a quick movement, he poured few drops of lewst, a natural sweetener harvested from the hives of the special Lew-bees. The tea began to bubble and froth gently, the aroma thick and intoxicating.
Once the tea was ready, Fheniz poured it into two clay cups, the steam curling up in lazy tendrils. He handed one cup to Burohagikun, who took it with a grunt of approval. "Smells good," he said, taking a sip. His eyes closed in satisfaction as the warmth spread through him. "Mmm, I feel much better now."
Fheniz chuckled as he sat on his bed, cradling his own cup. The old man's gruff mannerisms always managed to put him at ease. The two sat in silence for a moment, savoring the tea, before Burohagikun spoke up again.
"Well," Burohagikun began, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "the way you live, kid… I think ya deserve to be with me in this competition. If we win something, ya can improve the conditions ya live in."
Fheniz took a long sip from his cup, staring down at the chipped surface. "Yeah, maybe," he said quietly, though his thoughts were already racing. The possibility of winning one of the prizes was starting to seem real, tangible. He imagined fixing up the house, maybe even getting a new bed or some proper clothes. It was a tempting thought.
"So," Fheniz said, breaking the silence, "you registered for the competition?"
"Yeah!" Burohagikun's face lit up with excitement. "We're official participants now."
"That's great!" Fheniz smiled. "So, where do you wanna begin the discussion?"
Burohagikun leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Well, lemme say everything at once, so don't interrupt me, alright?"
"Okay, sure. Go on."
"Well, well," Burohagikun began, rubbing his hands together as though readying himself for something grand. "So what I was thinkin', brat, was this: no farmer here in Venlores grows any rubber grass."
Fheniz's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his mouth opened to speak, but Burohagikun quickly held up a hand, silencing him. "Now, now," Burohagikun said, "I know wha'cha gonna say, but listen. That's no problem. I know a place where rubber grass and basically all the raw materials we need grow naturally. That's the Great Plateau of Venlores and all the land surrounding it. Beautiful place, really. Full of all sorts of wild plants, including the rubber grass we need."
Fheniz nodded slowly, curiosity piqued. He had heard of the plateau before but had never ventured there himself. It was a wild and untamed land, mostly avoided by the townsfolk due to the numerous poisonous flowers that thrived there. "So you're saying we just… collect the materials from the plateau?"
"Exactly!" Burohagikun exclaimed. "Now, we gotta be careful, of course. There's plenty of poisonous stuff around there, so it's not a walk in the park. But I'll handle it. Ya can rest assured, brat. Leave the gathering to me. You just focus on the second thing I wanna discuss."
"And what's that?" Fheniz asked, intrigued.
"The design!" Burohagikun leaned forward eagerly. "What kind of design and idea we wanna go with. What story do we want the shoes to tell? What art do we wanna convey to the world?"
"I get your point," Fheniz said, taking another thoughtful sip of tea. "So… what ideas do ya have?"
"Hmmm," Burohagikun hummed, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "That's what I've been wonderin'. What idea? What idea?"
Fheniz leaned back on his bed, his legs feeling heavy after a long day. He kicked off his slippers and folded his legs beneath him, getting more comfortable as his mind wandered. His gaze fell to the floor, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something—the infinity symbol, etched into the sides of his worn-out slippers. It was faint, barely noticeable by this time, but it caught his attention.
Almost as if by instinct, Burohagikun's eyes also fell on the slippers at the same moment. The two locked eyes, and suddenly, without a word, they both smiled in perfect sync. In that instant, a folk melody seemed to play in the background of their minds—a light, happy tune that danced between them like an old shared memory. The delight of the moment sparked something between them, a sudden realization.
Fheniz broke the silence, his voice filled with wonder. "Uncle Burohagi… from which industry did you buy these slippers?"
Burohagikun's grin grew wide as he sat up straighter. "Wing-bing! I made 'em myself, brat! Why'd ya think I was sellin' them for 1200 wafferions, eh?"
Fheniz raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin on his face. "But weren't your shoes that you showed me in the mountains… you know… poorly made? With no talent?"
"DUH! BRAT!" Burohagikun barked, feigning offense as his cheeks flushed red. "THOSE WERE SHOES, YA DUNCE! BUT THESE ARE SLIPPERS! YA KNOW WHICH ONE'S EASIER TO MAKE!"
Fheniz burst out laughing. "Of course! But now we gotta make shoes, old man!"
"Yeah," Burohagikun chuckled, scratching his head. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned in closer. "And did the same idea hit ya brain?"
Fheniz's face brightened as his thoughts aligned with Burohagikun's. "Yes… Wings!"
"WING-BING! WINGS!" Burohagikun bellowed, slapping his knee in excitement.
The idea had hit them both at the same time, like lightning striking twice. Fheniz leaned forward eagerly, his words spilling out as the concept took shape in his mind. "Our idea is that you always walk and run a path before you can get your wings to fly to the sky. The shoes will help you walk and run that path—the Origin of your journey's beginning… to the Origin of its end. But not the end of your dreams!"
"WING-BING-TING-SING-DING-ZING-PING-RING! THE BEST IDEA!!!" Burohagikun roared, his laughter booming through the small stone house, shaking its very foundations. His voice carried through the quiet night, like a drumbeat of enthusiasm, echoing far beyond the barren land where they sat.
🎶(Upbeat Pop and Rock)
🎶I don't need wings, because I am the wings!🎶
As the sun had long dipped lazily into the horizon, casting long shadows across the streets of Venlores, the town was now simmered in the quiet of dusk, with only the occasional sound of horse-drawn carts and the laughter of children echoing through the narrow alleys. Every evening, after finishing his work at the repair shop, Fheniz would head to Burohagikun's shop. It had become their routine: work by day, dream by night. Their shared mission—to create a pair of shoes that could transcend the ordinary—had consumed them both.
🎶Here we are, we gonna run tonight(tonight) To see the beyond, as we go high!🎶
The small shoe shop sat on a quiet corner, a humble storefront masking the fire of creativity burning beneath. Behind the counter, Burohagikun had a secret—the basement. Dark and dusty, it had once been a storage room for old tools and forgotten materials. Now, it was their laboratory of imagination, the place where the magic happened. Burohagikun introduced it to Fheniz one evening, and from then on, every night, the two would descend into that hidden workshop to create their masterpiece.
🎶The time's gonna tick, tick, tick, tick, down, We are gonna run all the way, downtown, 'Cause we making special shoes for the crown!🎶
The work was meticulous, and the learning curve was steep. Neither Fheniz nor Burohagikun were master shoemakers, but their dedication pushed them beyond what they thought possible. Every evening, they gathered knowledge. They frequented the town libraries, poring over old books and newspapers filled with information about the craft. The radios blaring around them were filled with noise about the Yahunyens and their exploits, but they simply tuned it out. Their focus was singular: the shoes.
🎶'Cause I am gonna gather all the knowledge! To fulfill the dreams, Yeah! To fulfill the dreams I have pledged!🎶
They even started listening to upbeat rock music as they worked. The clank of hammers against metals, the hiss of glue being spread across soles, and the grinding of metals synced with the pulse of the music, creating a chaotic yet harmonious rhythm. Sparks flew from grinding wheels as they shaped the metals for some mysterious purpose—a purpose they kept secret from the world. It was as if the music fueled their drive, each beat pushing them further into their work.
🎶The time's gonna tick, tick, tick, tick, down, We are gonna run all the way, downtown, 'Cause we making special shoes for the crown!🎶
Some days, things went smoothly. The design came together effortlessly, and every piece fit into place. Other days, nothing seemed to work. Mistakes piled up, frustration bubbled to the surface, and tempers flared. Fheniz would sometimes find himself cursing under his breath, only for Burohagikun to burst out in laughter at the absurdity of it all. Even when it got tough, they managed to keep things light.
🎶Oh ooh woah, Oh ooh woah, oh oh oh oh, Oh ooh woah, Oh ooh woah, oh oh oh oh🎶
One evening, after a particularly difficult session where everything seemed to go wrong, Fheniz took a step back and surveyed the mess they'd created. His fingers ached from hours of stitching, and his back was sore from bending over the workbench for too long. He let out a frustrated sigh.
"Ya know," Burohagikun said, wiping sweat from his brow, "sometimes ya gotta laugh at how bad things can go before they get better."
"Yeah, I guess," Fheniz replied, cracking a smile. "We'll get there, though."
🎶Here we are, we gonna run tonight(tonight) To see the beyond, as we go high🎶
The mistakes they made were painful—sometimes literally. There were moments when their hands slipped, and needles pierced their skin, or when sparks from the grinding wheel scorched their arms. Yet they pressed on, undeterred. Injuries healed with time, and they paid them no mind. What mattered most was completing the shoes. No matter the cost, they knew they had to finish before the two years were up.
On the days when Fheniz wasn't working on the shoes, he still had his job at the repair shop. Each morning, he'd set out to deliver newspapers, which often brought him to Mr. Palket's door. The old man would greet him with a kind smile and ask about his well-being, always curious about the shoes and the progress they were making. Fheniz was careful not to reveal too much; the design was a secret that only he and Burohagikun shared.
🎶I don't need wings, because I am the wings! UH!🎶
One afternoon, while at the repair shop, Fheniz found himself busy fixing an old, rusted radio. The shop, Konpada Repair Works, was quiet except for the soft ticking of the wall clocks lining the walls. A customer walked in, an elderly woman cradling an even older radio in her arms.
"Can you fix this for me, young man?" she asked, her voice trembling with age but carrying a sense of urgency.
"Of course, ma'am," Fheniz replied, taking the radio from her gently. He set it on the counter and got to work. His fingers moved quickly, tightening screws, adjusting wires, and checking connections. Within minutes, the radio sprang to life, the dials lighting up as it hummed with power once more.
"Let's check if it's working properly," Fheniz muttered to himself as he turned the knob, scanning through the frequencies. He stopped when he found a local news station, the static clearing to reveal a voice.
"Breaking news from Yahunya! The scientific departments of Yahunya have developed a super-large destructive machine known as the 'Death Ray.' Reports suggest that the machine has been sent beyond the atmosphere of Aeartha and positioned to aim at one of Aeartha's moons, located approximately 200 million kilometers away. The Yahunyens intend to test the power of this machine as a show of their dominance over the world. Experts claim that the destruction of the moon will not harm Aeartha, as its fragments are unlikely to be pulled by the planet's gravity."
Fheniz's hands froze over the radio, his eyes wide with shock. The Death Ray? They're going to destroy a moon?
The news continued, the announcer's voice growing more frantic. "The media is filled with headlines like 'Most Powerful Conquerors Ever,' 'Destroyers of Cosmos,' and 'Sovereigns Undefeatable, Inevitable.' The Yahunyens claim that this act will demonstrate their supremacy over all nations. This is a significant moment in history."
Fheniz felt a shiver run down his spine. He had never cared much for the Yahunyens or their politics, but the idea of them destroying a cosmic body—a moon—left him unsettled. The cosmos had always fascinated him, the stars and planets calling to him in ways he couldn't quite explain. The thought of something so magnificent being obliterated by the Yahunyens just to prove a point filled him with unease.
Still, he shook off the feeling. "It's just another show of power," he muttered under his breath, returning his focus to the radio. He handed it back to the old woman with a polite smile, taking the money she offered and wishing her a good day. His mind, however, remained distracted.
As if on cue, the door creaked open behind him, and in walked Adapada Konpada, the eccentric and half-bald owner of the shop. He had been out running errands, and now he returned with his usual grumpy demeanor.
"Any customers?" Adapada asked, his crow-like voice slicing through the quiet air.
"One," Fheniz replied, still lost in thought. "Work done, money taken."
"Good," Adapada grumbled as he settled behind the counter, but his attention was quickly pulled elsewhere as the door to the shop burst open once more.
Fheniz's heart skipped a beat as he recognized the large, boisterous figure that strode through the doorway. Burohagikun. His eyes bulged comically as his jaw nearly hit the floor. WHY THE HELL DID HE COME HERE?! he thought, panicked. The old shoe-seller-maker stormed into the shop with all the subtlety of a lightning bolt, his eyes wild with urgency.
"Wrings! Brat! I need ya now! Come with me! Fast!" Burohagikun shouted, his voice booming through the shop like a thunderclap.
Adapada's head snapped up, and his eyes narrowed dangerously as he turned to face the source of the commotion. His crow-like screech cut through the air, echoing off the walls. "EXCUSE ME?! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING? RIGHT NOW, HE SHOULDN'T BE DISTURBED AT WORK! HE ANYWAYS WORKS LESSER AND LESSER NOWADAYS HERE, SAYING TO ME, 'SIR I HAVE SOME URGENT WORK, I GOTTA GO,' AND I DON'T KNOW WHERE HE WANDERS OFF TO, TAKING HALF-DAY LEAVES!"
The tension in the room was palpable as the three faced off—Fheniz caught in the middle of the storm. His eyes darted between Burohagikun and Adapada, knowing that things were about to get loud. Very loud.
Burohagikun turned his fiery gaze on Adapada, sizing him up with a glare that could melt steel. "WHO YA SUPPOSED TO BE, LILLIPUT WITH AN EYE PATCH? WHA'CHA YA? A PIRATE?"
Adapada's one good eye twitched with barely suppressed rage. "LILLIPUT? I AM THE OWNER OF THIS SHOP!"
Burohagikun puffed out his chest and bellowed, "AND I AM BUROHAGIKUN! THE OWNER OF WINGY-BINGY-TINGY-SINGY-DINGY-ZINGY-PINGY-RINGY SHOES! SO, TALK BEING IN YA TIGHTS!"
Adapada blinked in confusion for a moment before recognition dawned on him. "Burohagikun? Are you in any way supposed to be Uncle Burohagi of this boy, Fheniz?"
"Sure, I am!" Burohagikun declared proudly, pointing a thumb at his chest. "And that's why I need him for some work right now! So, grant him leave!"
Adapada's expression softened slightly, but his suspicion lingered. "Oh, no worries about that," he said, his tone more measured now. "But now that we meet in person, I want to ask—how are you now?"
Burohagikun blinked in confusion, his fiery bravado flickering as he processed the question. "Huh? Of course, I'm fine! What do ya mean?"
"I mean of course, from the outside," Adapada explained, his crow-like voice lowering into something almost conspiratorial. "But I am talking about the internal stuff."
Burohagikun's eyes narrowed. "WHAT INTERNAL STUFF??!!!!" he barked, clearly on the edge of his patience.
Before the situation could escalate any further, Fheniz hurried over and quickly whispered in Adapada's ear, "Sir, he's just shy to tell you all about this, so you know, let it go. And I'll meet him outside and ask what he came for. Just five minutes, sir. He'll come and tell you everything you want to ask too. I'll tell him there's no need to be shy, so wait for five minutes." As Fheniz whispered, Burohagikun raised an eyebrow in confusion, wondering what on earth this boy was saying.
Without waiting for a reply, Fheniz grabbed Burohagikun by the arm and yanked him outside to the road.
Once they were outside, Fheniz rounded on Burohagikun, his voice low but frantic. "WHY DID YOU COME HERE?!"
Burohagikun crossed his arms defiantly. "WHY CAN'T I COME HERE?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH THAT? BITCH! AND WHAT'S WRONG WITH THAT BITCH?!"
"Wait, wait, wait," Fheniz sputtered, trying to calm his uncle down. "I'll tell you. Listen. Mr. Adapada Konpada, the boss… he's a half-man."
"Half-man?" Burohagikun repeated, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Didn't you see? He's half height, half hair, half eyes, and half teeth too!" Fheniz explained hurriedly. "That means he has half-brains too! So, sometimes he gets brain attacks and starts thinking that everyone has the same problems as him. He asks people about heart attacks, brain attacks, and sometimes even about… pains in your ass and balls too!"
Fheniz knew if he'd tell Burohagikun the truth, he'd kill him for sure.
Burohagikun's face twisted into a mixture of disbelief and disgust. "WHAT RUBBISH! WHY DO YA WORK WITH SUCH A SUCK-PSYCHO?!"
"Don't ask me that now," Fheniz groaned. "Just go along with his questions, say yes to whatever he asks, say that now you're fine, and go along with the situation until he comes back to normal."
Burohagikun's face turned red with frustration. "UGH!! WHA'CHA MAKING ME DO, BRAT?!"
"JUST DO IT!" Fheniz insisted, his eyes pleading.
With a deep, exaggerated sigh, Burohagikun relented, and the two of them returned to the shop. Burohagikun straightened his back and prepared himself for whatever nonsense was about to come.
Once inside, Burohagikun forced a smile and spoke through gritted teeth. "Yes, I am… fine… right… now."
Adapada gave him a sympathetic nod, his face filled with a bizarre sense of understanding. "Oh yeah. I understand. You're shy to tell me, but no worries. I understand your pain. I mean, not that well, but I've got a hip… just little above where it pains for you."
Burohagikun had to physically restrain himself from exploding in rage, his knuckles white from the force of his clenched fists. What in the actual hell is this guy talking about?! he thought, but he managed to keep his voice steady. "Yeah, ya know… not the stuff ya can talk to everyone, ya know."
Adapada nodded sagely as if they had just shared a deep, emotional moment. "Yeah, but you know," he continued, his tone shifting to something almost fatherly, "I see that you have still kept that donkey on your ass-kart outside the shop. Why do you keep that donkey when it has hurt you so much? Aren't you risking more accidents with that good-for-nothing donkey?"
Burohagikun's jaw dropped, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words. Is this guy for real? Before he could muster a reply, Fheniz jumped in.
"LOVE, SIR! LOVE!" Fheniz declared dramatically, his voice filled with emotion.
"Love?" Adapada asked, confused.
"Yes," Fheniz continued. "Like you see, even your children hurt you sometimes, but you forgive them and move on. You don't throw them out of your house; it's their home. In the same way, Uncle Burohagi showers such love to that donkey, and he doesn't even like to call the donkey a donkey! He showers the same love towards me, as if I am his own child, and that's why he only talks to me and calls me like he has called me now. So, can I go now, sir?"
Burohagikun, utterly baffled by Fheniz's speech, stood there in stunned silence. What in the actual hell is this kid saying now?!
Adapada, clearly not understanding half of what was being said, sighed deeply and nodded, thinking it was better to let these two assholes go. "Alright, alright. You two can go. But be careful, okay?"
With that, the two men hurried out of the shop, Burohagikun grumbling under his breath the entire way. As soon as they were a safe distance away, Burohagikun rounded on Fheniz. "WHAT WAS THAT NONSENSE YA WERE BARKIN' IN THERE?!"
Fheniz just grinned and patted his uncle on the back. "Hey, it worked, didn't it?"
Burohagikun stared at him for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing. "WING-BING! YA LUCKY IT DID, BRAT!"
With the tension behind them, the two of them headed back to the shoe shop, ready to dive back into their work—because no matter how ridiculous the day got, nothing would stop them from creating the most incredible shoes the world had ever seen, as the upcoming harvest season was in about two months.
Pronunciations:
Lewst: [LOO]+[ST]