Dai-kun even messes with Hashira-kun and makes fun of him 😅

In the lively world of the troop, where every day is filled with chatter, movement, and small dramas, Dai-kun has already earned a reputation despite his young age. Curious, energetic, and just a little mischievous, he is the kind of baby monkey who cannot resist testing boundaries. And on this particular day, his favorite target happened to be Hashira-kun.

Hashira-kun was older, bigger, and far more serious. He carried himself with a calm confidence, the kind that came from experience and strength. While the younger monkeys bounced around and turned everything into a game, Hashira-kun preferred quiet moments—sitting tall, observing the surroundings, and minding his own business. He wasn’t unfriendly, just focused. To Dai-kun, however, that seriousness looked like an open invitation.

Dai-kun noticed Hashira-kun sitting alone on a warm rock, eyes half-closed, enjoying a peaceful moment. Most monkeys would have passed by without a second thought. Dai-kun did the opposite. He froze, tilted his head, and stared, as if a brilliant idea had just formed in his tiny mind. His tail flicked with excitement. This was it—his next “game.”

Slowly, almost comically, Dai-kun crept closer. He exaggerated each step, crouching low, pausing often to check if Hashira-kun noticed him. Hashira-kun, aware of everything around him, knew exactly what was happening. He simply chose not to react. Experience had taught him that acknowledging a mischievous baby only encouraged more trouble.

But Dai-kun was determined.

With a sudden burst of speed, he hopped onto the rock and tugged lightly at Hashira-kun’s tail before jumping back. His face lit up with triumph. He squeaked softly, a sound that clearly said, I did it! Then he waited, eyes wide, body ready to run.

Hashira-kun opened one eye.

The look he gave Dai-kun was calm but firm, the kind of look that usually ended nonsense immediately. Dai-kun paused. For half a second, it seemed like he might retreat. Then, as if remembering his role as the troop’s little troublemaker, he puffed out his chest and did something even bolder—he bounced in place and slapped the rock, mocking Hashira-kun with playful squeaks.

The younger monkeys nearby froze, watching closely. Everyone knew this was risky. Hashira-kun could easily scare Dai-kun away or chase him off if he wanted. But instead of reacting with anger, Hashira-kun simply sighed and shifted his position, turning slightly away.

That only made things worse.

Dai-kun interpreted this as victory.

He circled Hashira-kun, making exaggerated faces, sticking out his tongue, and hopping from side to side. He even mimicked Hashira-kun’s posture, sitting stiffly for a second before collapsing into laughter. It was a perfect imitation—dramatic and completely disrespectful. 😅

For a moment, Hashira-kun’s patience thinned. He turned fully toward Dai-kun and stood up, towering over the tiny prankster. Dai-kun froze again, eyes round, heart racing. This time, the fear was real. He had pushed too far, and he knew it.

But instead of chasing him, Hashira-kun did something unexpected.

He leaned forward and gently tapped Dai-kun on the head—not hard, not threatening, just enough to say, That’s enough. Then he sat back down.

The tension dissolved instantly.

Dai-kun blinked, surprised. He hadn’t expected that. Slowly, his fear turned back into curiosity. He crept closer, touched Hashira-kun’s arm, then quickly pulled his hand away, giggling. This time, his teasing softened. The mockery turned into gentle pokes, playful nudges, and tiny hops around Hashira-kun’s feet.

Hashira-kun tolerated it, though he clearly wasn’t impressed. He glanced around, pretending not to care, but there was a faint softness in his eyes. Despite his serious nature, he understood something important: Dai-kun wasn’t trying to be disrespectful. He was learning—testing social limits, understanding reactions, and discovering how others responded to him.

In many ways, Dai-kun’s teasing was a sign of trust.

He wouldn’t mess with someone he felt unsafe around.

The older monkeys watched quietly, some amused, some slightly concerned. Dai-kun’s mother kept a close eye on the situation, ready to step in if things escalated. But she stayed where she was. She trusted Hashira-kun, and she trusted her baby to learn.

After a while, Dai-kun grew tired. His energy burned fast, and his little body couldn’t keep up forever. He climbed onto Hashira-kun’s rock one last time, sat beside him, and copied his serious pose again—this time holding it for a whole five seconds. Then he burst into laughter and toppled over, rolling onto his back.

Hashira-kun finally reacted.

He shook his head and let out a low, amused sound—half sigh, half chuckle. It wasn’t laughter, but it was close. For someone as reserved as Hashira-kun, that was a big response. Dai-kun noticed immediately. His eyes sparkled. He had succeeded in the greatest challenge of all: making the serious one react.

As the day continued, Dai-kun wandered off to find new adventures, leaving Hashira-kun in peace at last. The rock felt quieter without the constant teasing. Hashira-kun settled back into his calm routine, though the corner of his mouth still twitched slightly, as if holding onto the memory.

Dai-kun, meanwhile, carried the experience with him. He had learned about limits, reactions, and relationships. He had learned that teasing could be playful, but also that respect mattered. Most importantly, he had learned that even the most serious faces could hide patience and understanding.

In the end, Dai-kun didn’t just mess with Hashira-kun—he brought a little chaos, a little laughter, and a reminder that even in a structured troop, there’s room for silliness. And for Hashira-kun, that day proved something too: sometimes, being made fun of by a fearless little monkey is just part of life. 😅🐒