Chapter Text
Master Iron Wolf’s steps were heavy in the thick snow, swallowing him to his hips as he made his path through the freezing white, unrelenting wind blowing against him, Master Thundering Rabbit trailing right next to him. The countless faintly glowing jade plackets that hung off his belt rattled with each step, their sound crystal clear, only disturbed by their huffing breaths, billowing out before them. The cold had long seeped into his and Master Thundering Rabbit’s bones, leaving the kind of cold that not even the last warmth of their Chi could fill again. The shine of their glowing red torches was fickle, casting harsh shadows on the forest around them, the moon high.
Master Iron Wolf didn’t remember the winters of his childhood to be so cold, the whole of China to be stuck in a state of dying. He remembered fluffy snow and warm baozi getting stuffed into his and Master Thundering Rabbit’s paws by their mothers, soft and still steaming, filling them with warmth from within.
But war had changed the China of his childhood to something darker. Storming warriors had overrun the country, burnt down their fields, lead by a vengeful emperor, obsessed with his throne. He and Changbin had set out to learn the great Kung Fu to fight for their home and protect their families. The first signs of hopelessness had settled deeply onto the faces of their parents when food was too sparse again and they went hungry, so the children could have a warm meal a day way too soon.
A strong Chi was found within their chests and many years of rigorous training had made them into great masters of the art, battles and missions passing. Until they were known as the two greatest masters of Kung Fu in the entirety of China, wielding the Golden Dragon of Chi. They had proudly let the rebellion against the imperial throne, the fight long until the Dragon Emperor had bowed and their Sana had taken his place, a glowing light amongst the festering darkness in the Forbidden City, bringing peace back to the lands.
More years passed at the side of their best friend. They served as her strongest guardians, protecting the peace, China and the reign of the Great Tigress Empress. Kung Fu bloomed all across, its spiritual righteousness shining all through the country, alive in the earth.
But then the times had changed again, small flecks of darkness reappearing, not from outside, but this time from within, an attack being made on the Empress in her palace, rebellions breaking out all across the land. They followed the trail of destruction, hunger and smoking villages reduced to ash to the Holy Temples of Kung Fu, Masters all over China falling prey to power and greed one after another, their Chi flickering with lust for the throne, sucking the life out of the villages around them.
So, to protect the Great Imperial Reign, the set out on a journey through China anew, travelling to all Temples and Kung Fu schools, great and small alike to defeat the corruption of hearts.
Their empress had asked from them to bring back the echo of the masters’ Chi, bound to small plates of jade once they had been defeated, clattering to the floor when their mastery fell. She grew obsessed with protecting the power of China’s most rightful rule.
Master Flying Rhino.
Master Storming Ox.
Master Roaring Tiger.
Master Peaceful Panda.
One after another, glowing jade collecting on their belt until they were feared already, villagers fleeing when they neared another temple and the small cities collecting around them.
But they believed in their Sana and the spark of her heart when they had been young, learning the art right next to them.
Many more years had passed that way, Chan growing weary of the fight. The farther away from the Imperial City they travelled, the stronger the land seemed and the Chi coursing within. The last monastery they visited had been the monastery of Master Golden Crane, high in the Levitating Mountains of Sturdy Power. He used to be their greatest idol as mere children and later a good friend, the sunlight catching in his elegant feathers when he would descent kindness upon the Lands of the Middle.
The fight had been long and when his jade plate had finally fallen to the ground and they had turned their back to the silent temple, the sight had been gruesome.
So high above the earth, a path was visible, Chi darkening with each step, leaving destruction where healing should have followed. Right alongside his forever companion, Master Iron Wolf realized their grave misleading and how they had been fooled by their empress.
Wherever they set out to go, the light was still shining brightly, snuffed out whenever they left. They had never questioned the tales of their friend, telling them of Masters that craved more power and influence, Chi twisting as they drained the land of life.
With Master Golden Crane’s echo of Chi in their paws they could feel how it had been their own Chi poisoned, the golden glow they once wielded fading into the cool green one of the jade plates they carried.
They had lost their spirit of Kung Fu. They could feel it, the poison of unquestioning loyalty and twisted morals settled in their very beings. There was no good to give anymore.
Where they had been to blind with righteousness before, they now saw crystal clear, listening to the hushed warnings wherever they went about the Tigress in the High Palace falling from her mighty goodness into the promising lure of eternal and endless power.
She herself sucked the Chi out of the land and all living beings of China, taking it for herself, to live forever and not age a day, to hold the greatest crown of all times and the entire world. They had been too foolish to realize that the festering had happened from within and themselves. Hundreds of soldiers sent out to find the miracle against death and many more thousand villagers captured as slaves to build her monumental wall, isolating China from the rest of the world.
Horrified of what they had become, they turned their back and left the path of Kung Fu.
They could never return to the Imperial City, the power of the echoes too dangerous and the wrath of their empress too great. The only thing they could do was flee and hide the jade alongside them.
Their path let them even deeper into China, another spring changing to summer and then winter, an unending forest falling quiet around them.
Chan could feel the exhaustion in his body, how his steps grew too heavy. Even Changbin’s boundless energy had dimmed, thundering hops slowed down, fluffy fur tickling against his side whenever they pressed closer together for warmth.
“Channie, I’m tired.” The words were raw, heavy on Changbin’s tongue as he pushed them against the harsh wind. After all their time together, he and Changbin didn’t need to talk endlessly to understand each other.
“Me too, Binnie. I’m tired as well.”
But that didn’t change anything. Where they hadn’t been able to save all of China as glorious heroes, they could at least prevent its eternal doom, jade plates rattling with every step.
They kept trudging through the piled-up snow, paw in paw, sun rising and falling from the sky again in an endless circle.
The trees grew sparser as did their last rations, when they came across and small, run down wattle hut, quiet and left in shambles. Goods were scattered and blood spilt on fresh snow, still red in the frost. Bandits, probably stealing from a family in desperation, taking from those who already had so little.
There was nothing they could do, all already abandoned. They passed through with a heavy heart, finding patched clothing and personal belongings discarded on the path, everything valuable taken alongside the lives of the family that had sought refuge in the forest hut.
But then Changbin’s floppy ears twitched right when they noticed a small, weak cry stemming from a small handwoven basket, half hidden behind a tree.
Blood pounded in their ears when they ran towards it, the wails growing in loudness the closer they got.
Chan barely felt the cold of the frost when he fell to his knees, stiff paws pulling at the thick blanket and finding buried deep inside a small bundle of fading warmth.
Cradled between his paws was a tiny hamster child, barely a toddler. He clutched onto his small stuffed rabbit, burrowed into a ball of short golden fur, shivering and miserable with the cold around.
One look into round, black button eyes full of shiny hope for love and Chan felt the shift in his chest, his Chi flickering. He could feel the same shift in Changbin’s Chi, their energy finally in harmony after such a long time without the warm echo inside.
They were huddled over the hamster’s small form, trying to protect him from the wind, looking once again if there were truly no parents. But there were none, no smoke curling from the roof of the thatched hut.
Chan could see the wetness clinging to the child’s round eyes, feeling the incessant need to dry them. He carefully reached out with a digit to the pat the tiny hamster’s white belly, hoping to calm him, like his mother surely used to do for him.
His fur was so, so soft, small breaths flickering under his palm. Chan wouldn’t use his Chi anymore, but he tried to pass on warmth regardless, feeling how the toddler curled into his paw after a bit, eyes trusting and shiny.
It was Changbin who had the foresight to dig through their backpacks for the small batch of dried fruit they reserved for emergencies. He offered up a piece of sticky persimmon, the hamster squealing in his grasp as soon as he smelled the sugar, tiny nose twitching with excitement.
Changbin dropped the piece into tiny paws, reaching up in anticipation. Giant cheeks fluffed up, eyes blowing out as the persimmon disappeared.
And then the child reached out to pat his sticky paws over the white fluff of Changbin’s fur and his floppy ears, giggling, eyes blinking up at them, so pure and happy. He had a wide gummy smile, so pure Chan could feel the golden light shining in the child’s soul.
In the fraction of a moment, Chan had stuffed the child against his heart, and beneath the fabric of his wrap robe, the thick of his armour falling into the snow.
Changbin helped to put a wrap in place so their baby would be secure, gently paws handling the child with care as he whined quietly until he was settled tightly and warm, eyes drooping, belly full.
Chan held onto the bundle when he bowed down to pick up the basket. In it were few belongings, clearly a child’s toys and a framed painting of a small family, two golden hamsters holding their child, smile big and gummy. Beneath the hand stitched blanket was a small wooden plate, the kanji reading Jisung.
Jisung it was.
They made their decision paw in paw, easy enough, no words needed.
It was soon that they finally left the forest and came to a valley with a quaint village nestled in between rising mountains. The Valley of Peace was protected by the Jade Temple, lanterns glowing in the streets as they passed, the villagers laughing.
And when they came across an entrance shrouded in darkness, hiding a closed restaurant, they settled instead of adding more jade to their collection.
A child needed a warm home to grow up in. They had run far enough.
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🏮༉‧₊˚.
Soft paws woke Jisung from his slumber, pulling him from his dream of the Furious Four defeating the cruel Lord Shen in an epic display of Kung Fu prowess.
“Jisung-ah, it’s time to get up. Today’s a big day!” the warm voice familiar.
Realization shot through him as he jumped up, giddy butterflies exploding in his stomach. Today was the Dragon Festival in the Jade Temple where they would finally choose the next Great Dragon Warrior, promised to defeat the Tigress Empress. And he would finally get to see the Furious Four in person.
Jisung met the amused gaze of his dad, chuckling as he struggled to wrap his tunic correctly, hopping around to find the perfect pair of trousers.
“Calm down, aegi. There’s plenty time,” the big paws carefully turning him to face his window. His dad had something incredibly sure about him that always made him feel so safe. If his dad said there was time, he wouldn’t have to worry. “Look, the sun has barely gone up. We’re not going to be late.” Red painted the sky serene, orange peeking from the horizon.
Chan kneeled before him, fixing his tunic, then smoothing it down with his paws.
“There you go Sung-ah. Do you wanna help appa with the baozi? It might help you calm down,” easy fondness dripping from his dad’s voice.
“You just want me to help you stop him from only filling them with meat,” Jisung grumbled.
“Ah you got me there,” a mischievous grin pulling on his dad’s lips.
He quickly grabbed his wooden action-figurines from his shelf, littered with everything Kung Fu he could find, before skipping down the stairs to follow his dad. They were his favourite toy, his appa had made them for him after he heard the first tale of the legendary Furious Four and obsessed over the way the wielded Chi with Kung Fu to protect their valley. He was not only proficient with kitchen knives but also carving knives, even though his paws were always so gentle with Jisung.
They landed directly in the kitchen, the first batch of steamed buns already wafting a delicious aroma through the small house.
For the fact that his appa didn’t even reach up half to the size of his dad's wolf form, his voice thundered impossibly louder, greeting him like every morning and probably waking the entire street.
“Sung-ah! Come join me,” his appa hollered, pressing a warm bun into his paws, stuffed heavily, before pulling him into his fluffy, warm embrace, floppy rabbit ears hiding the world around them when Jisung snuggled in.
Cheeks stuffed full of deliciousness, Jisung made quick work of stuffing the next batch of baozi, letting the simple task consume him with its familiar movements while he took care to balance the filling better. If it were for his appa they would leave out all the greens entirely. But nonetheless, his fathers were renowned for their baozi in the entire valley, even the overstuffed ones, so the family restaurant slowly filled with hungry guests taking the buns with them on the way to the Jade Temple. His fathers were darting around, serving the tables and busying themselves in the kitchen, laughing over their work. There were no faster or more precise choppers of vegetables than his dads, Jisung was sure, wielding their knives like they were extensions of their hands.
With the passing hours and the sun rising, Jisung felt the anticipation bubbling up again, all the buns for the day and some extras stuffed, leaving him to read in one of his books about the great Masters of Kung Fu and their even greater deeds. Even though he knew the tales by heart he could barely concentrate, the words blurring before his eye. When he was little, he had wanted to become a great Kung Fu master like Master Golden Crane or Master Iron Wolf, but he knew he wasn’t made for it. It wasn’t even his size, even though he was pretty tiny. Tiny animals could master Kung Fu too, like Master Whirling Cricket. It was more about he himself.
Jisung knew he was a bit too afraid and a bit too impatient and a bit too anxious and a tiny bit too reliant on others to become a Great Dragon Warrior, even if he felt a glowing pull sometimes. He was terribly clumsy too, the one time he had tried to follow the simplest step order for a defence from a Kung Fu Guidebook he had fallen on his nose and scratched his paws.
But it didn’t matter. His parents loved him no matter what, had told him as much when he had cried over it as a child when everything felt too much, hugging him against their big, safe bodies. He liked making the best steamed buns of half of China with them well enough to not want more.
The only one who had never stopped believing in his dream was his best friend, Felix, a chick even smaller than him, but with a giant personality.
“Jisungie, what has you thinking so hard that you scowl at your poor book?” The body of his best friend barrelled against him, jumping up the box of carrots turned sideways. He took a hefty bite from a fresh baozi, one that his dad had probably given him as soon as he spotted him. Chewing and nudging him with his wing Felix added, “It’s finally the Dragon Fest today! We’ve waited so long!!”
“I know and I kinda wanna go already,” he whispered back. Maybe they could get a peek at the Furious Four before the official ceremony. He couldn’t stop the jitter of his legs.
Like his appa had heard them, he shouted over the chatter in the restaurant and the chime of the register, “Jisung-ah, you can go already with Yongbokkie. We know you can’t stand still. We’ll manage without you for a bit.” Jisung was glad, he could barely wait anymore, the nervousness nearly killing him. He had never been at the Jade Temple before.
He still threw himself into their arms for goodbye, letting his dad fix his tunic one last time and the curl of his hair. His appa’s rabbit paws were silky soft when he cupped his cheeks, his laugh infectious.
“Take care Sung-ah,” his dad said when they were out of the door already, his appa screaming after them, “And don’t forget to have fun and try all the snacks! We need to know the competition!”
The way up the Thousand Stairs of Virtue and Patience was long, but with Felix at his side, chattering away time passed fast, especially after they shared their combined stash of buns when the sun tipped high on the sky, starting its decent back.
The closer they got to the Jade Palace, the more the way filled with all the villagers of the entire valley wanting to celebrate, the festive music swelling in the air right alongside the sheer size of the jade-thatched roof, swallowing the sky.
Up on the ledge, they were overwhelmed with dancers and a Great Dragon moving through the massive crowd, bursts of confetti and stands selling the most delicious treats from all over China. It was just like Jisung had imagined since the flyers had been hung all over the village and the tales of his dads. His heart threatened to burst, it was beating so hard.
Felix took him at the wing, dragging him through the crowds, giggling at his delayed steps and big eyes. “If your eyes get any wider, they’ll just fall out.”
“It’s just… so perfect,” he breathed, awed as they looked at all the different stands and bigger animals towering over them.
His belly was already bursting from all the different foods they had tried, sweet sticky buns and fried vegetables and so much more that he could barely remember, when they stumbled upon the entrance of the great hall. The door leaned slightly askew, allowing them a peek inside.
He felt his jaw drop and his chest burning. Column after column were all the relics of all the great masters of Kung Fu, fallen in the fight against the evil Tigress Empress.
Master Flying Rhino’s mighty armour.
Master Peaceful Panda’s iconic wide-brimmed straw hat.
Master Storming Ox’s thick iron chains.
Master Roaring Tiger’s burning Fistguards.
Master Booming Bear’s mighty hammer.
Row after row, they pattered deeper into the seemingly endless hall, engraved jade columns passing and the echo of the Masters’ greatness winding around them. Chi was humming in the air, smelling thickly of cloyed incense, building, reminding him of his dad’s smell and building in his chest until he could practically feel it sing in his bones.
He couldn’t help but stop at the display the giant painting of Master Tranquil Turtle wielding the Golden Dagon of Chi with his staff, the first true Master of Kung Fu, the quiet click of their feet coming to a halt. The painting was greater than anything he had ever seen, graceful strokes capturing Master Oogway in a moment of complete equilibrium. Jisung felt so impossibly small under his gaze, staring down on him, benevolent and kind.
It was Master Oogway who would choose the next Dragon Warrior today. Jisung would witness him as he moved in total peace, would stare at him, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to turn his gaze away from one of the last Great Masters of Chi.
Felix tried to drag him away, wing tightening around his paw, but he couldn’t move, feeling the pull in his chest again, urging him to stay. He didn’t know how long they stayed at that single painting, no other soul in the entire great hall except for them.
At least until the front door was thrown shut, a thundering boom echoing through the entirety of the hall and hushed voices became audible. “Why was the door even open? No one is supposed to come in,” a stern voice said, its cadence taking long to echo out.
They immediately scurried behind the pillar the painting was hung on, only daring to peek out from it to look at who had entered. His breath stopped and Felix stiffened behind his shoulder, a soon as they recognised.
Master Panther and Master Dog.
One half of the Furious Four. The sharp intake of air was impossible to keep to himself, this was just too great for him. Felix’s wing pressed his mouth shut, the small feathers tingling against his nose, the other wing resting over his heart, beating so fast he would faint if it was any more erratic. He prayed they wouldn’t notice them. Apparently, they weren’t supposed to enter after all.
But still, he couldn’t stop staring. Master Panther’s leisurely flex of thick muscles behind glossy black fur and the poised, measured stride of pure control from Master Dog. Jisung had dreamt of this moment, getting to see his heroes up so close, their prowess and how the art of Kung Fu shaped their very beings.
They came closer and closer, footsteps slowing, moments stretching into the thick molasses Felix’s parents cooked for their sticky sweets. And then they stopped, right before the painting and the pillar they hid behind.
Close like this, Jisung could practically feel the warmth radiating off their bodies, not daring to move a single bone in his body as their conversation picked back up again.
“Minho, don’t worry. Master Oogway will choose you and you will become the Dragon Warrior. Out of all of us, you are the only one who has a chance at the Golden Dragon.”
There was a huff, before a smooth, but strong voice filled his ears, ringing deep into his core, rattling something inside of his chest. Master Panther.
“I can barely even manifest a single ball of Chi, Seungmin. Fate can’t make me the Dragon Warrior, no matter how much I want that.”
“Then you don’t want it enough. You have the be the Dragon Warrior, train more. I don’t know Minho. We need you to save China.”
“I know. I did everything right. But I can’t…” Minho cut his words off after that, letting them linger in the air before taking in a deep breath. “You can’t force Chi to flow, you have to let it be.”
Seungmin scoffed. “I can control my flow of Chi just fine.”
Minho’s reply was sharper this time, more resigned. “But you can’t find your Golden Chi either.”
“We have-…” Seungmin was cut off by the gong, the wave of sound faintly rattling the Temple, announcing the start of the ceremony.
They left quickly after that, Seungmin’s steps hurried, while Minho retained his relaxed feline stride. Before both were finally gone and they dared to properly breathe again, Minho— Master Panther turned back, his dark feline eyes, boring straight into Jisung’s across the span of the hall, holding his gaze for a single moment before turning back as he followed Seungmin out.
It took Jisung another second to shake off the feeling and run behind Felix out of the great hall, slipping out of the heavy door, both their entire body weights necessary to open it even a crack.
There was no time to ponder about what Master Panther had said about his Chi because once they stepped outside the noises rose to a booming chatter of claps and voices mingled in excitement of the upcoming performance, animals stuffing the entire inner courtyard full.
They weaselled through countless legs, Jisung looking for his parents, starting to worry when they didn’t find them for the first half of the round, bodies pushing them around and astray from their path.
They made it to the closed front gate by the last gong, echoing off the great walls and reverberating in the jade, glowing for a second from the wave in Chi. The performance was going to start now. He had waited for so long. Jisung felt sick in his stomach, noises overwhelming his ears and colours blurring in front of his eyes.
But then Felix dragged him by the wing through even more animals, his chirping drifting through the static.
“Look, there’s Channie and Binnie. We’re nearly there!”
And after a seemingly endless drag of moments, they reached his parents, who scooped them up in their arms to lift them higher so they could properly see.
“Jisung-ah, we already missed you,” his dad laughed, the only sound drowning out the mass around them, his big, warm paws keeping him safe on his wide shoulders. His appa chimed in, Felix perched high on his head, “We kept you a front row view, even though we had to fight at least ten angry moms wishing us to hell and back for taking the spot!”
He snuggled into the fur of his dad when the show started, whispering, “Thank you.”
There were dancers, music and the Great Dragon swirling around the centre stage right at the foot of the last set of stairs leading up to the Jade Temple, captivating till the arrival of the Furious Four, their entrance spectacular.
One blink of an eye and they appeared, swinging from the jade roofs, falling from thin air in a blur of flying limbs, Master Fox and Master Ferret, Master Dog and finally Master Panther, his landing so powerful, the mountain rattled.
The entire crowd was in awe for a second, their Masters’ poses so sharp, Jisung gasped, his dad’s shoulder tensing under him. They were perfect, just like he imagined.
And then they were breaking off into a flurry of choreographed fight, sequences of kicks and punches, flowing around each other, not a single blow landing, four souls moving as one.
The performance was over in the blink of an eye but Jisung could have sworn that Minho had looked straight at him—seizing him up for just a second— while dodging one of Master Ferrets slinky attacks, black fur reflective under the sunlight as he bent back effortlessly.
Jisung’s heart nearly stopped, his whole body quivering.
Then, Master Oogway stepped onto the small stage, the Kung Fu masters bowing before him, just like everyone else, his Chi wrapping around them gently, like the barest kiss of a cherry blossom hitting your nose after a gust of spring winds.
Jisung was glad he could lean forward and against Chan’s paw, keeping him from falling off and steady. Otherwise, he might have fainted, finally seeing the Great Master from so close, the last living master of Chi. The aura of his Golden Dragon had been strong enough to ward the Tigress Empresses’ army off from ever even reaching the Valley of Peace, the Jade Temple remaining untouched from the fall of nearly all great Kung Fu schools nearly two decades ago.
It was in the thickness of his tortoise shell and the wrinkles around his eyes, the soft smile curling around Master Oogway's mouth.
Wisdom.
Kindness.
Generosity.
Inner Peace.
Total equilibrium.
Jisung felt it humming just behind his chest as Master Oogway simply stood there, loosely grasping the Staff of Wisdom, the winds flowing around him as soon as he spoke up, mussing up Jisung’s short fur.
“Thank you for taking up on our Thousand Steps of Virtue and Patience and coming to this years celebration of the Dragon. As you may know, this year is special.” Master Oogway made a dramatic pause, smacking his lips.
“As I said, this year is special because it is time to choose the soul worthy of becoming our next Dragon Warrior.”
He paused yet again, an awed murmur running through the crowd, the next minutes of Master Oogway’s speech drowning out to the blood thundering in Jisung’s ears.
This was the single greatest moment in his life.
One of the Furious Four would become the Dragon Warrior any moment now, the greatest honour that could be bestowed upon a Master of Kung Fu.
When the last Dragon Warrior had emerged at least three hundred years ago, he had unified China under one throne, ending the times of the Seven Warring Kingdoms. They only rose in great time of need, like now, wielding the Golden Dragon of Chi better than anyone, even the Fallen Masters of the Golden Era of Kung Fu when the Tigress Empress had been good.
Their Dragon Warrior would be the saviour not only of the Valley of Peace but also of the whole of China from the poisoned Chi of the Tigress Empress, Jisung just knew it in his heart.
All of this excitement was nearly too much for his small body to hold, pouring off of him in an anxious wave.
“Aegi, don’t forget to breathe,” His dad whispered into his ear, a filed down claw gently rubbing over his belly, until Jisung felt warm all over again and a tiny bit more grounded, the soft wood of his Master Ferret figurine clutched in one of his paws.
“Now, all of you, please close your eyes and linger in this moment of patience,” Master Oogway said with his old-worn voice, slowly settling in the cobbled temple grounds and taking on a pose of mediation.
He waved around his staff, nearly levitating on the ground, his eyes closed as he flowed to a silent melody.
Only when Master Oogway slowly peeled one eye open to wink at him did Jisung notice that he was the only one with his eyes still open, all the other animals on the temple grounds swaying to the same melody, lost in the moment of utter peace.
His dads grip around him grew a minuscule bit tighter as if on instinct, one of Jisung’s paw flying to his mouth the suppress the squeak of utter terror, surprise, joy, Jisung wasn’t even sure anymore.
He just squeezed his eyes shut as quickly as possible, slapping his free paw over them for good measure.
It felt impossibly long until Master Oogway had made his choice, even when Jisung was already sure Master Panther would be their Dragon.
“The new Dragon Warrior is—”
Jisung ripped his eyes open, just in the right moment for the first confetti shower to explode over them, his head snapping around to find Minho, Master Panther.
The next Dragon Warrior.
He was already looking at Jisung though, with a frozen expression, feline eyes staring him down until Jisung felt the attention bearing down on him like lead.
When he was able to break the gaze after a moment that felt like eternity but was probably not even half a second, to his utter shock, no Staff of Wisdom pointed at Minho.
The cheers died out after barely a second when everyone realised, in exchange of nervous chatter rising.
There was this heavy ball right in the pit of his stomach when Jisung’s gaze darted around to find who Master Oogway had chosen to save them all.
Not Master Dog.
Not Master Ferret.
And not Master Fox.
Who then?
Everywhere he looked, the villagers already stared back at him though no gaze weighted heavier than Master Panther’s.
Jisung was already half curled into the safety of his dads fluffy neck fur when he finally found where the tip of Master Oogway’s staff pointed at.
“—You.” It was a soft word, but it’s effect still reached Jisung like the fiercest gust of wind.
Master Oogway pointed at his dad.
Jisung looked down, hopping up and down on his dad’s strong shoulder, heart fluttering with excitement.
But his dad was also already gazing at him, so soft and fond, but with a tight edge to eyes that Jisung had never seen before.
“No, you!” Master Oogway said, his voice carrying over the chatters, his staff rising a tiny bit.
Until it pointed at Jisung.
He felt like his dad didn’t want to let him go, the soft paw of his appa closing around him instead, to lower him the rest of the way when his dad pressed him against his strong chest for a moment and then a moment longer even as he mumbled that it was fine.
His appa took the Master Ferret action figurine Jisung had still clutched against his chest right out of his paw and gave him a gentle push once Jisung’s lower paws hit the floor, until the only thing he could do was to traipse through the free space that opened when the sea of animals around him parted.
The excited chirps and cheers of his friend Felix were the only sounds around him, no music, no cheers.
Everyone gaped at him in choked silence.
They were right, he couldn’t possibly the Dragon Warrior.
He was just Jisung.
Small, Clumsy and with feelings too big for his tiny heart.
Folder of the most deliciously stuffed baozi in the entire Valley of Peace.
So achingly normal and slightly below average.
Everything the Dragon Warrior was not.
He couldn’t save his dad's flowers from getting trampled over, he certainly couldn’t save all of China. Not when there was someone like Master Panther, or one of the other Furious Four, or anyone else for that matter.
His ears burnt when he felt the first tear spring into his eyes, no one there to hug him tight until his heart slowed down.
It beat faster and faster while he scurried into the middle of the stage, the way impossibly long, his paws catching on one too many uneven cobblestones.
And when he finally stood right before Master Oogway, and the Furious Four and the thousand faces of his village, all of them staring at him in silence, it was simply too much to take.
His vision went black.
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🏮༉‧₊˚.
He came to himself, the Furious Four bowed over him, shielding him from the outside.
It felt more like they were caging him in though, their brows furrowed, expressions between confused, angry and shocked. Master Panther was entirely unreadable though; his gaze was not unkind, just intimidatingly intense. Like he looked right down to Jisung’s core and saw everything unfavourable, about to pry through all of Jisung's weaknesses and insecurities.
Master Panther was so perfect in comparison, black fur shimmery, muscles and spirit full of pure control, a core with Chi so strong Jisung felt it humming though him . He should have been chosen as the Dragon Warrior, both of them knew that.
He was the one that lead the Furious Four, that had saved their valley countless of times.
Through all of this, Master Oogway, blinked lazily at Jisung, still smiling softly.
“Han Jisung is the next Dragon Warrior.” He called out again.
After a strenuous moment of silence, the crowed roared up in cheers, all the confetti and fireworks exploding now, right over Jisung’s head.
It-it was too much.
The sudden loud noises, the sudden attention, the sudden responsibility Jisung would never be able to bear. He was so small and afraid. He only noticed now, but he had unknowingly curled into a tight ball to shied himself as much as possible.
Master Oogway had somehow chosen wrong.
Because Jisung was wrong.
And now everyone knew.
Panic seized him, chest rising too fast with breaths his lung couldn’t keep up.
Faster than he could call for his dads, the world fell black again.