Haneul groaned loudly as the shrill beeping of her alarm clock pulled her out of deep sleep, and with a grunt she reached out to hit the “off” button, lying there in the warmth of the comforter as she gathered the willpower to get out of bed. She had slept fitfully that night, for she had been assaulted by a number of confusing nightmares that she could not make sense of now that she was awake; they melted into the background, a hazy fog that faded into the back of her mind. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and threw the covers off of herself, exposing her bare legs to the chilling cold of the room as she slid off of the bed, stretching her arms high above her head. Her vertebrae decompressed with a satisfying pop, and she walked over to her closet to retrieve a school uniform. She glanced over her shoulder as there came a quiet knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called, smoothing out the small wrinkles in her shirt. Sandeul stepped into the room, already dressed with his hair damp. A toothbrush hung out of his mouth.

“Just wanted to let you know that the shower is yours,” he informed, his voice distorted as he struggled to keep toothpaste foam from spilling from his mouth. Once she gave him a thumbs-up of affirmation, he plodded back to the bathroom to finish up his morning routine. Haneul gathered her clothes and walked into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind her and turning the knobs on the shower. A stream of steaming water poured from the showerhead, filling to small room with a fine mist as she disrobed and stepped into the shower. She had neglected to take one the previous night, falling asleep soon after the disastrous dinner, and she finally felt as if all the stains on her body were being washed away. The water remained clear, for Haneul had washed the blood from her hands a long time ago, but it still felt as if the horror were being carried away by the steady torrent of water, down the drain and far, far from her.

After Haneul was finished with her shower, she quickly dressed herself and busied herself with her daily routine before finally heading downstairs for breakfast. Sandeul was already sitting at the kitchen table, inhaling a bowl of cereal as he pored over a history book, anxiously flipping through pages as he shoveled the grains into his mouth.

“I hate history,” he mumbled to her, and she smiled sympathetically at him while she prepared herself two slices of toast with butter and jam. She sat down beside him, munching at the bread while offering small phrases and rhymes to remember certain facts, when his mother entered the room. A tense silence descended upon them, and the woman refused to look at the young girl, an intensely guilty expression on her face. Finally, she whipped around to face her, unable to bear the tension.

“Haneul, dear, I’m so sorry for how I behaved last night. I didn’t mean to upset you, I just…” she trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

“I know you didn’t. I’m sorry for the way I acted too. It was wrong of me to get so angry,” Haneul apologized in turn, bowing her head slightly at the older woman to express her forgiveness. She seemed to instantly brighten, and the three of them chattered about small things until it was finally time for Sandeul and Haneul to leave.

The pair of students walked down the empty sidewalk, chatting idly as the morning sun burned away the mist of the night, leaving dewdrops glittering on the lush green grass of the neighborhood lawns. Birdsong echoed through the clear air. Clouds, fluffy and white, drifted lazily across the brilliantly blue sky. It was the picturesque scene of the perfect summer day.

Loud chatter began to overtake the sounds of nature as Sandeul and Haneul neared the large high school that they attended. As they rounded a corner, a large grey building loomed into view, and a stampede of students streamed in from the sidewalks and parking lots. A concrete sign placed over crisply cut grass read, “Daeyang Senior High School.” Suddenly, as if struck, she halted at the edge of the parking lot, staring uneasily at the massive building.

“Haneul? What’s wrong?” Sandeul asked in concern, stopping to walk back to her position.

“Do you think everyone knows?” she murmured quietly. The thought of entering the school and being stared at, being the subject of every conversation, was immensely terrifying. Sandeul reached over to give her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Come on,” he smiled weakly, avoiding her question altogether. After all, they both knew the painful truth. Hand in hand, the pair walked through the glass double doors of the building into a hallway filled with lockers. Students were shuffling through their belongings, rushing to classes, or idly talking in the hallway; when Haneul entered, all noise ceased. Hundreds of eyes were trained on her instantaneously, and she got the sudden urge to become very small, small enough to disappear and be free of the intense gazes. Even the teachers, lounging outside their classrooms, were gawking at her with shocked or pity-filled expressions. Slowly, Sandeul pulled her across the white tiled floor, his back straight as their gazes bounced harmlessly off him; to Haneul, each one felt like the sharp point of an arrow embedding itself into her skin, permeating deep into her very soul.

Slowly, conversations began to overtake the silence once more, but they were hushed, and there were a great many glances in Haneul’s general direction. A few daring souls even stooped so low as to point at her and gesture wildly; to her dismay, one boy even made the signature motion of drawing a finger across his neck. They were all discussing her and her incident, she knew, and she felt as if she were the subject of some brutal interrogation or judgement. Her hand trembled in Sandeul’s, and he tightened his grip around her fingers. By the time they reached Haneul’s locker, she felt as if she were ready to scream.

“Sandeul, I can’t do this,” she whispered, her voice high-pitched with emotion. Tears stung her eyes as she glanced wildly around the hallway, the whispers echoing in her ears like mocking laughter. Sandeul took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him.

“Hey, look at me, Haneul. It’s all right,” he began.

“No, it’s not all right, Sandeul!” she interjected hysterically. “They’re talking about me, and my mom, and what happened, and they’re judging me, and her, just like-“ she cut off before she could finish by adding “your parents.” Sandeul seemed to guess what she had meant to say, however, and frowned sadly down at her.

“No, Haneul, they’re not,” he sighed, turning to open his locker and retrieve his books. “No one here is judging your or your mom. They’re just being people, and people gossip. Please, try not to let it get to you, okay? I have to go to class now. Let’s meet for lunch today, all right?” he smiled, giving her a sympathetic pat on the head before disappearing into the crowd to walk to his class. Haneul immediately felt intensely lonely, and she miserably retrieved her books before walking to her first class. Naturally, the same asive silence and feverish whispers incurred, and the poor girl found it impossible to concentrate as the teacher droned on and on. She had her biology book flopped open in front of her, but she merely stared at the pages incomprehensibly.

“Haneul!” came a sudden shout, and she jerked back to reality as she glanced up at the teacher. She was staring at her expectantly, and the entire class was just gazing at her with a mix of complicated expressions, awaiting her response.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, and the teacher’s expression melted into one of understanding.

“Haneul, I would like you to read the passage on page three hundred and ninety-four, please,” she replied, and the girl nodded quickly before flipping to the assigned page. However, under the intense stares of her classmates, she fumbled horribly over the words to the point that the teacher stopped her and assigned the reading to another student. Haneul sunk down into her desk, feeling more miserable than ever, until the instructor assigned a set of practice problems. Before she could begin the assignment, however, she called her out into the hallway.

“Am I in trouble?” Haneul whispered to the woman. The teacher sighed and shut the classroom door behind her, smiling sadly at the young girl.

“No, Haneul, of course not. I just wanted to have a talk with you,” she explained. “You are one of my best students, and I understand what you have been through is… jarring. I know that the last thing you want to happen is for your schoolwork to suffer, and so I am here to urge you to set up an appointment with the school counselor.” Haneul immediately felt burning anger surge in her chest.

“You think I’m going crazy?” she responded hotly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I can handle this. I don’t need pity! No one’s pity!”

“Haneul, I am not trying to pity you, nor am I saying that you are crazy,” she woman responded gently. “Experiencing the death of a family member, especially in such a brutal way, has a profound effect on the psyche. You need help, Haneul, in order to gain closure and move past this horrible bump in your life.”

“Bump in my life?” Haneul shrieked. “You’re calling the death of my mother a bump in my life?” After the enraged outburst, she burst into bitter tears, heaving with sobs as she buried her face into her hands. As the instructor went to wrap her in her embrace, Haneul wrenched away and took off down the hallway, running straight into the nearest bathroom. She curled up in the closest stall, gasping for breath as the sobs wracked her body, leaving her trembling. She was unsure just how long she sat there, wailing miserably in the bathroom stall until her cries dwindled into quiet sniffles. She wasn’t even sure what she had been crying about- the fact that her mother was dead, the fact that she was the new school gossip, or the fact that she was falling to pieces. After regaining her composure to the best of her ability, she picked herself up off of the floor and exited the stall, walking over to the bathroom mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy, and tear lines ran down her puffed cheeks. She looked like a mess.

“The picture of beauty, aren’t you?” chimed a sarcastic voice from the back wall. Haneul didn’t have to turn to know who the voice belonged to; she would know it anywhere, with its smooth delivery and charismatic tone. She glanced slightly over her shoulder to find the demon Baro sitting against the brick wall, his legs pulled up with his elbows resting on his knees and smug smile on his face.

“You do realize that this is the girl’s bathroom, don’t you?” she huffed indignantly.

“I’m well aware. Humans can only see me if I want them too, doll face, and that applies to cameras as well. Right now, the only one who can see me is you,” he purred, winking at her. Disgusted, Haneul grabbed a piece of paper towel and began wiping the salty water from her face.

“What do you want?” she whined.

“You know exactly what I’m here for. Heard you crying a mile away,” he grinned. Haneul flinched slightly in embarrassment, ashamed she had been caught in such a compromising condition by the sarcastic demon. She refused to look in his direction as she continued wiping her cheeks, dampening the paper towel slightly and gently patting her eyes in an attempt to lessen the puffiness.

“Well, I regret to inform you that I will be refusing your tantalizing offer today. You can just fly off to your edgy friend,” she mumbled. She jumped as Baro’s reflection appeared behind her own, then scowled and continued to dab at her face, trying to seem unperturbed.

“Refuse my offer?” he mused, resting his chin on her shoulder and batting his eyes at her through the mirror. “Why ever would you do that? You were just bawling like a baby in the bathroom stall,” he teased. Haneul’s cheeks flared red in anger, and her lips came together to form a grim scowl. “Obviously things haven’t gotten better, so why don’t you hand over your soul to me so it can all go away?”

“No,” she answered firmly. The demon laughed airily and retreated from behind her, strolling into the stall behind her to plop down onto the toilet.

“Think about it, Haneul. No one would talk behind your back any more. No teachers would call you out into the hall and recommend you see a shrink,” he continued. Haneul whipped around to face him with an expression of shock, dropping the damp paper towel onto the tiled floor.

“How do you know about that?” she gasped. He shrugged with a mischievous grin, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back against the toilet tank, his legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles. His black angelic wings were folded on either side, barely able to fit into the small black stall. “Have you been stalking me?” she demanded angrily.

“Don’t flatter yourself, doll face. I have better things to do than follow you around,” he yawned.

“Then how did you know?” she repeated. “You can’t have known unless you saw it happen.” Baro frowned at her, unable to respond, and she couldn’t help but feel slightly satisfied that she had bested him. He suddenly hopped back to his feet, crossing the bathroom in a few strides to pin her against the bathroom sink. His arms were on either side of her hips, hands gripping the ceramic sink, locking her in as his body grew dangerously close. He gazed down at her intensely.

“You frustrate me,” he growled. “Just give in already, will you?” Haneul placed her hands on his chest, trying to shove him away.

“I said no!” she insisted. “Why are you so hung up on me, anyway? Can’t you find someone else to bother?” she complained. Baro simply laughed, grabbing her wrists and pinning her arms to her sides. His dark eyes stared down into her own.

“You know what they say, doll face. The boys love the chase,” he purred, and Haneul cried out as he suddenly leaned forward to sniff her hair. “That scent of misfortune? You’re bathed in it, and it drives me crazy,” he purred against her neck. In a last-ditch effort, Haneul kicked upward, sending her foot right between Baro’s legs. She felt his grip on her wrists tighten as his entire body went stiff, and a loud whine escaped his lips as he stumbled backwards, releasing his grip to gently cradle his injured manhood. He sunk down onto the ground, curled into a tight ball.

“That’s what you get, you ert! You can’t just go around ually harassing women because you’re a demon!” she scolded. He just groaned in response, flopping onto the tile floor.

“Come on! A man’s gotta eat!” he wailed. “Demons live on human souls, okay? Yours just happens to be the most enticing, most tempting one in existence! It’s like your pumping pheromones into the air! It makes me insane!” Haneul wasn’t expecting such a reply, and actually stopped on her way out the bathroom to gaze down at the whimpering demon, feeling slightly bad for attacking him in such a way.

“Th-that’s not an excuse!” she protested weakly. Baro rolled onto his back, staring upside-down at her with his teeth gritted and even a few tears in the corner of his eyes.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” he mumbled. Haneul reeled; the last thing she had been expecting from the demon was an apology. She struggled over how to respond.

“W-well, I guess I forgive you. J-just, if you come after me again, no funny business!” she cried, flustered. Baro stared at her with wide eyes for a moment, then exploded into a fit of laughter.

“Did you just invite me to pursue your soul, Haneul?” he snickered. Her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment, and she crossed her arms with a snort.

“Of course not, but I know you will, so I’m setting ground rules!” she answered primly. Still sniggering, Baro slowly rose from the ground, using the sink as leverage to bring himself to a standing position. He winced as he turned around, obviously still in a great deal of pain, and Haneul flinched guiltily.

“You know, your tough act is pretty cute,” he mused, grinning slightly at her.

“Who said it was an act?” she retorted angrily, and he responded by laughing once more. “I’m tough! I’m way tougher than you’ll ever be!” Baro found this highly amusing, much to Haneul’s distaste. After he finished laughing once more, he smiled softly at her, catching her off-guard.

“You know, you really are an interesting girl,” he murmured, and Haneul looked down at her feet, muttering incomprehensibly. She then heard Baro cry out in pain, and she looked up to find him being pinned to the tiled wall, an arm pressed hard against his neck. The man in question had his back turned to Haneul, allowing her to gaze at the beautiful white wings flared angrily behind him.

“Wh-what?” she stammered in confusion at the arrival of the newest supernatural being. Baro seemed incredibly annoyed, not shocked, and Haneul could only think that he had met the individual before. Obviously, they were certainly not on good terms.

“Angels,” Baro muttered darkly. The angel turned slightly to glance back at her, revealing a gorgeously contoured face with thoughtful eyes.

“Hello, Haneul. My name’s Gongchan,” he smiled at her.

“What?” she repeated dumbly.