Morning comes,

without a doubt.

Despite her superficially impenetrable curtains, streams of light had flooded her room at god knows how early in the morning. She had hoped for the best, and wished it was at least eight in the morning. Picking up the phone on her bedside table, Kiha groaned outwardly at the time and sunked back into her original spot. It was bloody six in the morning and she wasn't too keen on starting her day so early. Picking up the pieces of drowsiness which seeped her soul down into the drains, Kiha sat up on her bed and checked for the morning weather before briskly getting dressed for a short run. 

The morning air was piercing and believably wintry. 

Although it was a known fact that fall was not as forgiving warmth-wise as spring, it was not as bad in comparison to winter. At times, Kiha was so close to discarding her routine aside for a more practical approach to the morning: sleeping in.

Well,

not going to lie,

it happens much more than she'd like.

Feeling a tad more motivated this morning, despite her obnoxious muscle aches, she headed out-- but not before skipping her eyes past last night's corridor. Now under the bright morning lights (it was bright rather early in the morning), she spots inklings of blood trailing towards the direction in which Hari headed for last night. She sighed internally, eyes taking in the sight and pondering on how she became so bloody and battered.

Knowing that the housekeepers would rid the evidence off the walls soon enough, she exited the house and jogged lightly down the streets. 

Thankfully,

it wasn't too windy.

---

After her morning routine, Kiha stuck by Miok's side as the two ate breakfast much earlier than the rest would. 

Today, it was whole-grain toast with various types of spreads.

Kiha settled for avocado and a runny egg on top whilst Miok drank a cup of black coffee.

The two talked about insignificant matters such as how late the new winter designs was arriving this time around; how Miok needed to redo her nails; and a bit more of Jungwoo.

Well,

that was a lie.

It was a whole heap of Jungwoo.

"Try asking him out first," Miok proposed, raising a suggestive brow. "It's all the rage about gender equality these days, right? Take a bat for it. I'm sure it'll be fine." She added some sense of reassurance.

Kiha took a dainty sip off of her green tea, like a routine, before humming in response. "Maybe next time." She took a moment off for a long chain of thoughts before proceeding with mild caution, "have you seen Hari recently?" She finally took a swing.

Miok stilled as she let out a loud sigh and sunk her cup down. "Am I supposed to care about your siblings' affairs from now on?"

Kiha stayed mum.

Maybe it was the pitiful aura that the younger girl radiated, or the leniency Miok found at such early mornings, that led the elder to mutter with much less enthusiasm than she had during their previous conversations, "I'll keep an eye out."

---

Intrigued more than she should, Kiha had questioned every housekeeper she came across with about Hari. It was comparable to searching for a single pin in a haystack.

For starters, little to none of them knew about the precise sibling she was talking about. The amount of young females walking in and out of the residence could differ from friends, lovers and with luck, one of her sisters.

Well,

half-sisters.

---

It would be much faster to post a missing person's poster somewhere in the house. 

The amount of questioning she had done was of little to no use to the result she received.

It was dead in the afternoon that she retreated back to her headquarters. Plopping herself on top of her bed, she grabbed her phone by her bedside table and looked through her device to search for something useful to do.

From: Kim Jungwoo
To: Son Kiha
Taxi

From: Kim Jungwoo
To: Son Kiha
I'll pay

From: Kim Jungwoo
To: Son Kiha
taXI

She had her doubts, but looking through the three consecutive text messages sent by Jungwoo himself, it seemed as if he was texting whilst driving. And oh god, Jungwoo, you're studying to become a police officer.

The last one was least Jungwoo-like, due to the weird capitalisation at the end. 

Jungwoo was usually a very eloquent individual who tends to send proper messages with paragraphs, full stops and all. It was so weird seeing him sending her such sharp, short messages. When she scrolled up, it seemed to be such a contrast. She had doubts that it was sent by two different people, but settled for the fact that he was probably driving whilst texting the few words he sent to her. 

And they were all done in a minute.

Not that it was a clue about how Jungwoo had managed such feat. 

She scrolled through a few photos she had taken of the moon last night and it's rather bizarre colour palette. 

It was a tad redder than average with hints of grey in between the spaces. 

Registering the fact that she was shrouded with boredom, Kiha was about to head off to visit Miok for a more interesting time when a beep alerted her of an incoming message. 

Thinking that it was perhaps Jungwoo trying to contact her or something, she took a look at the message with brows slowly knitting together into a perplexed expression.

From: UNKNOWN
To: Son Kiha
24v3 y0^923!f

"What the," she catched herself, before sitting up straight and her confusion melted into one of indifference. 

It was probably one of those spam messages.

That too, was common these days.

Sliding her thumb over the red alert button, she deleted the text for good and fell back onto her bed.

These days, everything seemed oddly quirky but rather familiar in general.

It was weird.

---

Sunday.

What a great day.

Perhaps to most, it was a day of irritation, due to the probability of tomorrow being a Monday is closer to 101% than less. To the minority, it was a day of celebration at  of weekends. 

Is it half-full?

Is it half-empty?

Depends.

Today was regretfully a busy one. 

A run, shower, breakfast, and being whisked away by Miok to try on a few dresses she ordered specifically for Kiha. 

Most of them urged a rather distasteful sneer from Kiha.

Too short.

Too revealing.

Too bold.

If she could continue, the list would be too overbearing to read. 

Miok knew what preferences Kiha has in clothing. 

Simple, well-clothed and basically, something which blends with the rest of the crowd.

The elder lady tends to dispute Kiha's own beliefs for her very own.

It happens again today.

"Kiha you look so, so pretty," Miok complemented as she twirled the girl three hundred and sixty degrees and back. "This is the perfect one!" She claimed,

after two dozen tries.

"Um, yeah, sure," Kiha was distracted. Surely, she was. It was by the ending strings of her attention span and the beginning of blatant ignorance of what kind of outfit she was about to wear. She was so desperate to escape the proximity of the room that she paid no heed to the current dress she was wearing. 

Swiftly stripping and putting on her actual clothes, Kiha uttered something in the lines of Miok's satisfaction and her homework awaiting at her table before dissapearing out of the elder's sight.

(Well,

Miok was busy coordinating Kiha's outfit for tonight to barely notice.)

---

The party was to start at seven sharp. 

It was supposed to.

But why was Kiha captured and forced onto a chair three hours prior to the actual 'celebrations'? She had been stripped of her previous home attire and forced back into the off-the-shoulder, bodycon dress. Now that she noticed, it was of a night black shade and hints of a sheen texture, due to how it reflected mini bites of light. The other thing she noticed, oh-so-regretfully, was the fact that it was a mini dress. 

Shorter than the normal standards and made her feel as if she was holding onto a tiny towel more than anything. 

"You look decent now," Miok commented, whilst applying some kind of powder onto her face... Somewhere. 

Kiha had took exactly one look at her reflection on the mirror before scowling evidently. "I look like a female stripper."

True to her words, she was dolled up way too extravagantly in comparison to the party standards. Honestly, she felt as if Miok was about to ship her to come shady club (she knew the elder wouldn't... But it felt like it!). 

And who was she supposed to impress at the party? It was a show to maintain her father's current connections, and perhaps to establish new ones as well. 

Glancing at Miok's rather mute figure, despite her busy hands on Kiha's face, she noticed the tight-lipped expression the elder wore. Miok must have noticed Kiha's stare, because she visibly soften under the younger's gaze before giving her a gentle pat using the powder brush. 

"Oh young Kiha, you don't know what you're talking about."

True,

the younger didn't.

If it were any other person, Kiha would be ashamed of herself to prod any further. 

But,

it was Miok.

"Were you one?"

This time, the response was at the speed of light.

With the shrugs of her shoulders, Miok evaded Kiha's question easily. 

It was a tendency of hers to brush matters off like this. 

---

Kiha was evidently pissed. 

It seemed that the agreement from a few years back, when she was just a tiny bite into the bittersweet age of sixteen, somehow vanished into plain air. 

Either that, or her father is coming down with memory loss. 

"Oh yes Mister Park! This is my youngest daughter Son Kiha," he turned to her with a rather stiff smile and threathening eyes in between the superficial frontier, "Kiha, why don't you say hello to Mister Park's son! He's about your age!" 

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