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For the first time in years, Yulhee skipped going to the bakery.

Pulling on a dark blue loose shirt over her sundress, she ran her fingertips over the raised lines of the scars on her arm. On the floor around her, her sisters slumbered on, chests slowly rising and falling, pillows and blankets scattered about. She glanced at them a moment, feeling a twinge of nostalgia in her gut, and then told herself to get a grip. Her skin felt blotchy and swollen from where she’d sobbed silently through the night, and she knew her eyes must be horribly red, and her hair an utter mess. But she didn’t wake them up or beg for their understanding. Right now, she didn’t really want to talk to them, or anyone really.

Today was the anniversary of the day she had been found.

She left the house silently, slipping on her shoes and heading in the direction of the train station. In the early hour, most people remained at home. The station was silent, the ticket seller flipping through his morning paper and ignoring her. The station clocked ticked on. How did things remain so much the same here? Sometimes the tedium drove her mad. And yet the change was too much as well. She bent for a moment to scratch under the chin of the station’s cat, smiling faintly as it lolled in the crisp, cool morning air. A summer shower was on the horizon.

Then she went down the steps so that she was walking along the train tracks. No trains were running at the moment, so she was alone amongst the dirt and gravel, hemmed in by trees and rock formations. She hopped onto the metal rails, putting one foot in front of the other, arms swinging out on either side as she wobbled and spun, a tightrope walker going on without a safety net. The skirt of her dress flared a little, her wide sleeves fluttering, as she moved in slow circles, looking back towards the town, at the thick trees that surrounded her. Dirt clung to the soles of her shoes as she stared up at the grey-streaked sky. Sometimes she fancied girls with antlers and men with cat-eyes were watching her through foliage.

She didn’t know what she was doing.

“Hello there.”

Yulhee looked up, and up some more: the Cheshire Cat was floating in the air above her, one hand resting on the side of his neck. He grinned at her, showing his sharp, sharp teeth, but it was not out of malice. Many years ago, she had been terrified of him. Now she felt a strange warmth seeing him. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to be walking along the train tracks, Cheshire Cat floating after her, moving in slow circles to avoid the thoughts in her head. Perhaps it was a natural thing.

“Hello Chanyeol,” she said, “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for the Hatter and the Hare,” he explained, smile growing slightly tight. Unable to express herself in words, Yulhee reached up and patted Chanyeol’s hand gently. He blinked, staring at his hand as though she’d given him some strange disease, and then confusedly repeated the same gesture to her head. Yulhee couldn’t help the faint laugh that bubbled out of . “You looked like you needed that too. What’s wrong, little human?”

“I’m not little,” Yulhee said, dodging the question.

“You’re little to me,” Chanyeol responded, hovering lower to inspect her face. His fingers were cold and his claws scraped her skin when he took her chin and moved her head one way or another. Yulhee pulled away, avoiding eye contact. “Why are you sad?”

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” Yulhee said after a moment. It seemed pointless to conceal it from Chanyeol – he would continue to question her, and it was not as though he understood people well enough to judge her for it. She continued to walk, balancing precariously on the rails. “I feel like… I’m drifting in an endless ocean.”

“Ocean?” Chanyeol asked, cocking his head.

“It’s a big body of water. I’ve never seen an ocean, either. I’ve never even left this place. This nowhere place… Sometimes I hate this town. But I don’t know where to go from here.”

“If you don’t know where you’re going, any road can take you there,” Chanyeol said quite seriously.

“That’s not very helpful,” Yulhee responded, but when he seemed to deflate, edges going smoky, she added, “But thank you for trying to help.”

She meant it; care and understanding was not something common to her. It had caught her by surprise that Chanyeol seemed to care about her wellbeing. She hadn’t thought they were capable of it. “So where are we going now? Or shall we walk until we find somewhere?” Chanyeol asked, picking at something in his teeth.

Before she could speak, a drop of water hit her cheek. Glancing up, Yulhee felt the beginnings of a cold summer drizzle upon them. Chanyeol gave a yowl, shaking out his hair with disgust. “Run back!” he grumbled, before he di