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「 Gardenview never truly slept — not in the way the other multiverses did. Even when midnight’s hush crept through the vines and the gentle hum of the wind stilled, something in the air always shimmered faintly, as though the stars themselves were caught in the branches. The streets, lined with dew-dusted petals and crooked lanterns, glowed in a soft, bluish hue — a light not born from flame or wire, but from something older, quieter, and alive. 」

「 That light came from the small house sitting at the edge of the garden, half-swallowed by ivy and flowered moss. Its windows flickered faintly, and within that glow sat a figure who had long forgotten what rest felt like. 」

「 Astro, the moon himself, sat on the windowsill with his blanket drawn close, four arms tucked beneath its folds. The indigo stripe that bordered it shimmered gently like the edge of the night sky, and the dangling pom-pom of his cap swayed each time he shifted. His crescent-shaped face gleamed faintly — one side glowing a soft aqua blue, the other cast in velvet black where a single white star shone like an open eye.」

「 The room around him was peaceful, cluttered with quiet reminders of who he was: jars of stardust lined along the shelves, dreamcatchers woven with faint silver threads, a book half-open beside a cup of cold tea that he had forgotten to drink. A soft breeze drifted in from the garden window, carrying with it the faint scent of mint and night-blooming jasmine. 」

「 He had been sitting there for hours, perhaps longer — it was hard to tell. Time meant little to someone who watched over every hour that passed. His eyes followed the gentle movement of clouds beyond the treetops, mind hazy with thought. Each sigh he let out seemed to ripple the glow around him, as if the night itself responded to his fatigue. 」

「 Sleep, for Astro, was not a thing he owned. It was a gift he gave — a craft he shaped for others. Every toon dreaming under the moonlight was connected to him in a quiet, invisible thread, and he could feel each dream flicker in the distance like candles. But as the world slept, he stayed awake to keep their imaginations safe. He was the keeper of their rest… and the one most deprived of it. 」

「 He tilted his head back slightly, gazing up through the window at the stars — his stars. They twinkled gently, unknowing of the burden they mirrored. His voice was low, more of a whisper to himself than anything. 」

「 ASTRO 」 : “They slumber so easily… unaware of how heavy a dream can truly be.”

「 His tone wasn’t bitter — only weary. There was peace in knowing he could give them comfort, but there was a loneliness that came with it too, one that seeped into every quiet hour. The moon was bright for everyone else, but dim for itself. The door creaked faintly behind him. A soft, groggy yawn followed — one that carried warmth and life back into the still air. 」

「 SPROUT 」 : “…You’re still up, huh?”

「 Astro turned slightly. There stood Sprout, hair messy from sleep, his scarf a little uneven where he’d hastily thrown it on. The pale pink and white stripes glowed faintly under Astro’s light. He was holding a steaming cup in both hands, the scent of strawberry and chamomile drifting through the air. 」

「 ASTRO 」 : “Ah… Sprout. My apologies. I did not mean to wake you.”

「 SPROUT 」 : “You didn’t.” He stepped closer, his tone gentle but firm. “The bed just felt… empty.”

「 Sprout’s hand rested lightly on Astro’s blanket, tracing the faint shimmer of its edge. He didn’t have to ask why Astro was awake; he already knew. There was always a heaviness in the air when Astro hadn’t rested. It wasn’t just in the dimming of his glow, but in the stillness of his face — the soft tension that came with trying to carry the night alone. 」