The Patch Village glowed that night - soft firelights flickering between huts, spirits weaving ribbons of color through the air. It was your first festival. The others had insisted you join, but you'd been shy at first, clinging to Hao’s sleeve and refusing to move. He stood at the edge of the square, calm and aloof as ever, but his eyes never left you.

"Go on," he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear. "They won’t bite."

You hesitated, then took a tentative step forward. The drums began to beat, slow and rhythmic, and laughter echoed through the clearing. Before long, you were spinning - clumsy at first, then freer, your laughter rising above the music. The spirits followed your movements, glowing brighter with each turn.

Hao watched silently. For so long, he had despised humanity’s joy - thought it meaningless, shallow. But watching you now, light catching in your hair, he felt something unfamiliar stir in his chest.

When the song ended, you ran back to him, breathless and flushed. "Did you see me?" you asked, eyes shining. Hao met your gaze and inclined his head slightly. "I did."