Some would say that having a younger sister is one of the most rewarding things in the world. If you think about it, having a sister at all is considered to be a good thing. For parents, it means that they can spend less on clothing; the idea being that when the older child grows out of their clothes, they can pass them down to their younger sibling - at least, if they’re the same gender of course. Misook highly doubted that a younger brother would come barging into her room at just past three in the afternoon, looking for a skirt she hadn’t seen her sister wear since the day she bought it months ago. 

Misook pulled her hair into a ponytail just as Mijung started sifting through the third drawer, turning her nose up at the mess Mijung was making on her usually pristine bedroom floor. 

“What makes you think your skirt is in my room?” She questioned, watching her sister put her clothes back in the drawers in entirely the wrong order. Why must her sister be so messy?

“You always used to steal my clothes,” Mijung closed the last drawer and went to search Misook’s closet next, “until you grew a and a chest.” 

“Is there even the slightest possibility that it could be in the wash?” Suggested Misook. It was as if someone had flicked a switch in her sisters head. She hadn’t thought of that.

“Right, the wash,” she concluded, “any idea of what I could wear instead? I have a date tonight.” 

“Again?” Date number three thousand, seven hundred and forty-eight, Misook thought. “You go through boys like I go through eyeliner.” 

An exasperated sigh, “but this one is really cute! He’s tall, handsome, really intelligent, and I have no doubt that he’s amazing in be-“

“Okay! I don’t need to hear that from my little sister, get out.” Laughing, Mijung made to leave Misook’s room, but not before informing her that their father wanted to see her in his office. 

Mijung closed the door before Misook could ask her what her dad wanted, but past experiences had told her that it was probably something to do with the fact she turned twenty-one in a few weeks time. As the eldest daughter of the mafia boss she was expected to marry soon after her twenty-first birthday, probably to some pompous rich kid with too much money and great relations with the mafia, or the eldest son of one of the other higher-ups within the mafia that would build a stronger empire between the two families. Either way, Misook did not want to marry someone she’d never met, nor someone her father had chosen for her. In some ways, she envied her sister for not having the same path chosen for her. Though only