The rest of the night was spent by cuddling in each other’s arms, I sink my face in the curve of her shoulder breathing in her sweet scent. HyeRin gives out a beautiful smile while I run my finger tracing her skin and something has caught my attention.

I touch her hip softly and brush my finger on her scar. It looks like she had a major surgery, her scar stretch from her hip bone towards her vertebrae. She had drawn a tattoo on top of it to cover it up, a humorous tattoo that suits her personality—a Calvin and Hobbes lying under the tree with a quote.

“What’s the story behind this?” I ask while I’m kissing her shoulder.

She glances at her own scar with an averted look. “I suppose it will all make sense when we grow up.” She reads her tattoo out loud.

“I know how to read that.” I take her closer in my embrace. She leans on my bare chest and takes the blanket to cover our bodies.

“It’s a tattoo I got once I turn eighteen. My life motto.”

“You’re a grown up now, does it all make sense in the end?”

“No, none of it makes a sense to me.” She hugs me tighter, “After all, I guess I’m still a little kid in the inside.”

“Why Calvin and Hobbes?” I round my arm to wrap her in my embrace.

“I just like the idea of the imaginary friends. I grew up having lots of imaginary friends.”

“Because a real friend was hard to find?”

“Almost impossible.” She lifts her face towards me and rolled her eyes, annoyed by her own thoughts.

I bring my finger to lightly brush her eyebrow, “What’s the tattoo covering for?”

She inhales deeply and release herself from my arms, piling her pillow to the headboard and let herself leans on them.

“The scar is still too obvious, isn’t it?” she touches her own scar and traces the line softly with her fingers.

“What’s the story behind it?”

She smirks cynically and face towards me, “You sure know how to ruin the moment.”

“Sorry.”

She sits in silence drowns in her thoughts, perhaps calculating whether she should tell her tale or just go to sleep.

“I had my kidney removed before I was 18.” She finally decided to start her story.

That’s the answer I didn’t expect to hear, but as her story continues the more dumfounded I am about her situation.

“Isn’t it illegal to receive a donor from someone who hasn’t come of age?” I reason with her. I know exactly how a living donor situation should be for I’ve been through a ‘donor-searching’ race myself.

“Remember my birth father that managed to ignore me all my life?” another cynical tone comes out of her, “well, he was sick—like almost dying. He’s inheriting a deadly sickness in his family, a liver disease which he’s been fighting throughout his life. One day his doctor said that he must get a donor otherwise it’ll be the end of him. Lucky for my dear father, he got the perfect donor from Japan just in time so he got to live a normal life after the big operation.”

I lift my body and lean on the head board the way she does to pay more attention to her story. The way she tells her story really shows how much hatred and contempt she keeps inside her all these times, the soft look in her eyes has vanished as anger slowly taking over.

“Are you familiar with internal organ diseases and its ongoing problems?” HyeRin moves closer to me to lean on my shoulder.

Of course I know—especially a liver disease, the ver