"I cannot believe you," I groan, shaking my head. The boy before me shrugs, indifferent. Even being three years apart, you can't deny the resemblance. This child has the same hazel brown eyes as I do, the same tousled hair, the same firm lips. He looks like a fifteen-year-old me.

"Hyung, it's crazy at home," he says, mimicking my frustrated tone.

"Screaming?" I mumble, watching with cold eyes as he leans back onto my couch, as if he owns the place. Was my brother always this cocky? 

"Much worse," Jungwoo sighs. "They're not speaking. I can't even sneeze without being glared at." He sighs dramatically, throwing his hand to his head.

"Well, why'd you do to Aunt's house? Don't you know what they're going through right now?"

"Maybe if I knew your address I wouldn't have bothered them!"

He looks back at my eyes, panting from anger. With the same blazing temper as my father. I recoil, sinking lower into my own chair. Growing up with my parents, he's strayed from our old doppleganger personality. Or maybe, rather than Jungwoo changing, I did...

His eyes have changed since I last saw him.

"Look, you can't stay," I tell him, shaking my head. Even in my dim living room lights, his face looks pale. Jungwoo pouts, and that's when I realise the one thing that we do not have in common in our facial features. I do not pout. "You wouldn't kick your brother out onto the streets," he says.

"Go back home, Jungwoo."

"She's filing for a divorce." The silence hangs clear in the air. I don't breathe, but I don't drop dead to the ground, either. I'm alive, but not living. All my life, I have never imagined my parents like most kids did. They weren't my sanctuary, my place of hope and faith. I couldn't fall into their arms when I was frightened, I was never comforted. But my parents loved each other, as far as I was concerned.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I ran away, and, here I am."

"Are you crazy?" I ask him, throwing him a skeptical glance.

"What are you going to do, Hyung?" Jungwoo looks at me expectantly. I don't know. I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't even know why I care so much more than my younger brother. All I know is that I need to get out of this house, before the walls close in on me.

Once I'm out the door, the pavement is wet with puddles. I walk over to Nana's house, knocking gently on the door. When she answers, her curly hair is flowing down to her hips. She's wearing an over sized t-shirt, which could count for a dress. "Hi," she says, awkwardly. "Grandpa just came back, I--"

"Can we go back?"

She blinks like a deer caught in a car's headlights. "Go back where?"

Her bare legs are longer than I expected, and I force myself to look away from her. "Back to the sea," I mumble.

One look at my face, and I can tell that she can sense something is wrong. Nana rushes back inside to change into something more appropriate, and comes back out, wearing a long, lacey skirt that goes down to her calves, and a large, turqoise jumper. She looks vintage, antique. She looks so 'Nana'-ish.

"Bye, Grandpa!" she calls, stepping out.

"No kissing," he says back, before the door shuts and we're walking faster. We go back to my front yard, where the Pikachu van is parked. I can see Jungwoo spying from the window, but I will myself to look away. I don't want him to know anything about Nana. We get inside, and I strap her seatbelt on.

Just like before, no words are spoken. Not yet.

"You're in a rush," she breathes, as soon as we're on the road.

"I need to do something," I tell her, breathing hard. The day is beautiful. With a light blue sky, and clouds of every shape and size, this is a big contrast from yesterday's storms. We're only a few minutes down the road, but I can already smell the fresh breeze of the sea, the rich, new grass and cherry blossom trees regrowing. With Nana by my side, I feel almost complete. Almost happy.

You're a child, Myungsoo. You won't understand. 

I grip the wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white.

Only for a few weeks.

I take a sharp left turn, watching from the corner of my eye as Nana tilts to the side slightly. My vision is blurred slightly. Hot tears. Angry tears. I shouldn't be crying, though.

Only for a few months. A few years. A few.

Since when did a few weeks become three years?


We sit on the sand, two children under the impression that life is the easiest challenge to overcome. I'm lying on my back, staring straight at the sky, where the blazing sun blinds me. "I have a little brother," I tell Nana.

As I expected, she nods, normally. It's not that surprising, finding out that a friend has a sibling. "For a while, I hated him." I let the words sink into her brain. They land somewhere deep inside her. "I grew up with him being the centre of my entire life. My parents stopped caring about me when he was born. Suddenly he was their dream child, as if all the hopes they'd had for me were inflicted on him." I chuckle, as I let the sand fall through my fingers. "I never realised how hard all that pressure was for him."

So my parents kicked me out for a little while. A little while turned into a big while, and although they paid for all my bills and school fees, I never once saw them."

Nana places her soft little hands on top of mine. She looks like a wispy girl. Whatever words she spoke seemed magical, as if they just floated out of her petite mouth like a spell. "They must've loved you alot. They never filled you with expectations or pressure. Instead, you were given freedom."

And just like that, Oh Nana has said the one thing that could've made me feel better. The tears are back again, and no matter how much I push them back in, they sprout out like stubborn weeds. "And now they're splitting up, and I don't even know what the hell Jungwoo is going to do. They can't do that to him."

I pull my hand gently away from her's, and rise. I move closer to the ocean. I keep going, until the little tidal waves are just below my feet. Crouching down, I splash the water onto my face. All over my body. It drips down, until it touches every part of my body. I soak myself with the liquid, basking in the glory of secret tears. 

Nana's next to me. I can feel her presence. She grabs a handful of water in her hands, and pours it over her own face. "Salty water. Salty tears," she says, the ends of her hair dripping wet.

"What's the difference then?"

"Well, it's possible to cry salty tears out of happiness. Once upon a time, a man was so happy that he just wept and wept, and created the sea." She looks off into the far distance. "He was also part cat, and didn't like water."

"You're one strange girl," I tell her honestly. I can see her lips dripping with water. They're fresh and plump, and red as if she were on cherries. "I would kiss you if you let me," I tell her again.

"Then do it," she whispers. And when I press my lips against hers, its magical. I can taste the familiar salt coated around her lips, her arms wrapping shyly around my neck. Nana is so soft, so delicate and angelic. If this world was my personal hell, this girl would be my saviour. My angel.

haneul i know . next chapter, promise promise!