I have no choice but to do my A/N first, because I'm using my phone & I have no idea why I'm unable to scroll down to the bottom to add my A/N ;___;

ANYWAY. THE STORY IS PROGRESSING! I really hope you guys enjoy (:

Comment Replies! 8D

Squirrel -- Why don't you like soyabean! )): But oh well, I still love you. <3

MiniMac -- Thank you for commenting; & you should totally try soyabean someday! (:

Umma -- I love you so much umma, I'm glad you like the story (: I deserve all that? You deserve even more (: <3

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The students file out of the green gates, the banner hung on it (saying study smart, not hard!) rustling gently in the wind. The little girl rushes anxiously to the soyabean shop and impatiently waits in line to buy the soyabean.

Once the cups are in her hands, she rushes down to Cheonggyecheon River, occasionally stumbling because she doesn't want the soyabean to spill. Reaching the river, she realises that there are a lot more people today. She scans the place, hoping to catch a glimpse of her new found friend.

There!

She jogs towards the old man, who is dressed in the same old coat and hat.

"Hello again!" she says, plopping down to sit next to him. The old man looks surprised to see her here again, and is even more surprised when she pushes a cup of soyabean to him.

"Drink up!" she says, sipping at her own straw. The old man gratefully takes the cup and enjoys the soyabean, although he finds it a little unusual that she has the time to come again. He wonders if her family is like how his family was.

He can remember scenes from the past; his father coming back home as white as a sheet and telling them to get out before switching of all the lights. Then their family of three would hide among the sheds, because his father had taken the drugs he was supposed to deliver and now his debtors were after him.

Sometimes it'd be okay and his mother would start screaming at his father, other times his father would pack them into the car and drive off into the dead of the night. Whatever it was, they never stayed in the same place for long.

His father died, in the end, through a crossfire during one of their attempts to flee. His mother fled with him, her only child, but died not long later in a hospital, for she too had been shot. He had been only ten. Since then he'd moved from one family to another, only to be kicked out every time and labelled a troubled kid. Now, as his hair thinned and his body grew thinner, he was weary.

He glanced at the girl again, observing her sweet smile as she savoured the soyabean, and he knew hers wasn't a family like his had been. Were her parents too busy then? Or did they trust her enough to let her wander about on her own, this little girl of at most five?

He shook his head clear of these thoughts, the thinkig already giving him a mild headache. It was only a few afternoons later than she told him that she was indeed aged five, and yes, her parents were busy people and she felt very sad sometimes.

Their afternoon meetings continued, and the old man grew to look forward to these cups of soyabean.

She'd always ask him, "Is it good?"

And he would nod, and then think to himself, it is very good.