My classmates welcomed me with gentle words. They didn't know what had happened to me, but they had been informed of how I had been in the hospital. I was surprised by how many people cared. It was a nice feeling. 

The school day passed by like normal, and I relaxed. Nothing had changed, besides for the relationship between Jaehyung and I. I couldn't tell if we had become closer or drifted farther apart... but something definitely had changed. 

After school, my whole gang of friends accompanied me to my house; they knew about Jiyong's escape and weren't taking second chances. Once they made sure I was safe, they departed to do their own things. 

"Jaehyung," I called out to him when we entered our house, "do you... do you want to see a picture of my Oppa?" I wasn't sure if this was the best idea, but I felt like after what had just happened, he deserved to know. 

Jaehyung hesitated. He slowly his heels and followed me to my room, where I carefully pulled out a dusty cardboard box from under my bed. My eyes blinked rapidly as a result of the dust that puffed up when I opened the lid. 

"My Oppa," I announced proudly as I held up a picture. "This was the Christmas before he disappeared." I offered it to Jaehyung. 

He gingerly touched it, then traced my face in the picture. "Your smile," he said simply.

"Ah, yeah," I swallowed. "I used to smile a lot back then."

"One day, I want to see that smile," he said softly. "I've seen you smile before, but never like that."

It was like he was promising me that he would make me smile one day.  My Oppa had said a similar promise before, long ago; for some reason I was extremely unhappy that day, and he had noticed and swore that he would bring a smile to my face. Ah, the memories. 

My memories. 

Not all were bad. With the bad memories, there were many happy ones. 

"Why... why are you a..." My voice trailed off, partly because I couldn't bring myself to say the word and partly because I was fearful that my parents were listening. I blinked at my ridiculousness. No one else was home right now.

"You really want to hear the story?" He raised his eyebrow at me. 

I nodded. "Tell me your story," I whispered. 

"I was a 'normal' kid until I turned five," he began. "That year, on my birthday, my parents and I were driving home from my birthday dinner when a car coming from the opposite direction lost control and collided with my car. I woke up in the hospital the next day and was told that I had been the only survivor. That's why I hate hospitals so much," he winced. "But anyways, I was taken to the local orphanage since none of my relatives wanted to take me in. It's not that they didn't have the money to raise a five-year-old; they're all filthy rich people who have nothing to do.

The lady in charge of the orphanage was terrifying. She would beat little children just because they accidentally peed in the bed. She made me go hungry so many times as punishment. And the older kids there were just as cruel. They loved to take their misery out on the newcomers and the younger children. It was from them that I learned how to hit people without leaving obvious marks, since there are certain spots on the body that don't bruise as easily or where bruises are naturally hidden. 

I lasted less than a year before I broke out of that hell and took to the streets. I was almost six, and before this, I had lived a very sheltered life. I had no clue how I was supposed to survive alone without help. I managed to last about two weeks before trouble found me. Some e ahjussi had noticed me wandering around. He approached me and offered me a place to stay. I was suspicious of him. After all, why would an adult, a stranger, offer me shelter when my own relatives wouldn't? When I backed up to run away, he grabbed me by the arm and tried to force me into his car, which had been parked nearby for convenience. I fought back with the little fighting skills I had picked up quickly at the orphanage. Though I was significantly weaker, I was faster than he was, and smaller. I managed to break loose and flee, but he caught up to me in no time since three of my footsteps matched one of his. 

Before he could do anything though, I was saved by a gangster. The gangster had watched my struggle from across the street and had decided that I had what it took to survive. He took me back to meet his other gang members. I was terrified, but I didn't let it show. I had seen this man beat the creeper, and I knew they were strong. If I was to survive, who better to live with than the strong? They took me under their roof. I learned later that their gang was Silver.  

Luck had been on my side. 

These gangsters weren't the typical bad guys you see in the dramas where they go around killing people, threatening people, and destroying buildings and public property. No, they were actually against doing that. They kept the peace in Seoul; they stepped out to stop petty gang fights between small gangs. In fact, they were actually one of the most feared gangs in all of Korea; not because they murdered people, but because they were just, always won fights, and weren't afraid to interfere with other gangs when the other gangs were becoming dangerous. 

These people raised me. They taught me how to live on the streets. They taught me how to fight. And they sent me to school. 

In middle school, I had a run in with some of the kids at my school. Ironically, those three guys became my best friends," he laughed at that thought. "At first, we didn't get along at all and were constantly at each other's throats. Then in high school, I became the jjang because I was the best fighter, since I had been taught by the best. Most of the girls were annoying; they always threw themselves over me. They were desperate and disgusting, not to mention fake. My three friends and I became the leaders of the gang at our high school, since every high school had one. Other high school gangs were no match for us. I kept my school gang separate from Silver because I didn't want the really dangerous gangsters to be chasing after my friends. The only down side of being part of Silver was that since I was the youngest, I was targeted often to join other gangs, or to be killed. My life was always in danger, but I had lived that way for so long that it was normal, for me, to have someone coming after me with a knife. The other gangs didn't know I was in high school, which kept my friends safe. Everything was okay until," he stopped abrutly and glanced at me. 

He knelt in front of me. "Please believe me when I say that I'm not like the gangsters you're thinking of, Kaina. I'm really not- Silver isn't either. Kaina, oh Kaina. Please. I don't know why, but I can't stand the thought of you hating me." 

I noticed how he changed the subject. He had been about to venture onto why he had to return to the orphanage. Oh well. I won't press him. I suppose it's a story for another time. 

"I don't hate you," I said slowly. "I don't think I can ever hate you. It's just.. I haven't crossed the best past with 'gangsters' so far." 

"You don't hate me?" He sounded surprised, and then relieved. 

I shook my head. "Nope." 

We didn't say anything for a while. I stared at the ceiling while he stared at my picture. 

"Your brother reminds me of someone I know," he muttered under his breath. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah. He's an ally of Silver. In Korea, there are three gangs that are at the top: Silver, this guy and his gang, and the Black Widows." 

"Oh. My brother's look-a-like is the leader of one of the top gangs in Korea. That's really ironic," I snorted. 

"I'm home!" My mom's voice drifted through the carpet floor. "Kaina, darling? Jaehyung? Are you guys here?" 

"Coming, mom!" I yelled back as I stood up. "You went to the store?" 

I stared at the piles of shopping bags that were lying on the floor. 

"I'll go help her," Jaehyung pushed past me. 

From outside, a scream was issued.