She was only six years old, and her neighbor, Jungsoo was already a big boy in middle school—she couldn't believe it when her umma said Jungsoo oppa was thirteen. 
            She liked him. She didn't know what it meant to like him, but she knew she liked to go on the swings in the park across the street so she could swing and simultaneously watch his house, carefully, faithfully, like a guardian angel. She liked to come with her umma when she brought spare kimchi to his house for his umma. She was six years old, but somehow, she knew she liked Park Jungsoo.
            She was sitting on her favorite swing, just swinging back and forth in the summer breeze, watching the Park house like she always did, lollipop in .
            "Yah, Kang Sora, what do you think you're doing?" one big girl approached, scoffing at her. Her other big friends surrounded Sora, glaring. "That's our swing. Get off!"
            Sora shook her head strongly. "Ani! This is my favorite swing! I don't want to go!"
            "Tch," one of the big kids smirked. "Fine." Then she pushed the smaller Sora off the swing, letting her fall to the ground. Sora looked at the red scrapes on her keens and then at her lollipop—her favorite flavor, strawberry—lying on the ground, only half-eaten, and started to cry.
            Umma! She wailed in her head. She wanted her umma to make her feel better. Umma would make her boo-boo go away, and umma would give her a new lollipop. She wailed even louder. The other kids, scared they would get in trouble, ran away quickly, leaving little six-year-old Sora on the ground by herself. 
            Jungsoo had just left his house, soccer ball in hand, ready to let off some steam by playing in the park, when he saw his tiny neighbor crying by herself, her nose red and her eyes swollen. He rushed to her and knelt at her side.
            "Sora-yah, what's wrong?"
            The little girl wordlessly pointed to her knees, rubbing her eyes with the other hand. Jungsoo looked at her pouting face and tapped her nose, saying cheerfully, "Don't you worry, Sora-so! Jungsoo oppa will fix this up real fast."
He picked her up swiftly in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck automatically, still sniffling. He carried her into his house and set her down on his counter. He stood there a moment, baffled.
            "Ah! First you clean it!" He wet a paper towel and came to her, saying soothingly, "Don't worry. This will only sting a second. You can hold my hand, if you want."
            He let her tiny fingers squeeze his as he dabbed at her wound with his other hand. "All clean!"
            Then he grabbed a bunch of bandaids, placing them rather haphazardly on her knees. He stepped back, satisfied, then lifted her down, gently setting her on her feet. Sora looked at him, wide-eyed. 
            "Oh! You had a lollipop, right?" Jungsoo scratched his head. "We don't keep sweets here. My ummoni says it's a waste."
            Seeing the disappointment disappointed face, he hastily said, "I have something else, though!" He placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Bbobbo!"
            He smiled at her, completely unaware of the adoration shining in her eyes.

                                                                                                               ~*~

            10 years old. Sora was finally in middle school, just like Jungsoo had been all those years ago. But he was still so much bigger than she was, and he was in high school now, and he was never in the Park house anymore. Sora still liked to sit in her swing, but it hurt her to look at his house and know he wasn’t going to come out of it. He was too busy finishing up high school and training to be a singer.

             “Sora-so!” he had called to her the night before he left. “I’m not going to be home often from now on. Take care of our swing, okay?’

            She could only stare up at him and nod enthusiastically. He laughed at how cute she looked and handed her a bottle of soda. “Oppa bought it for you, just so you remember how sweet he is,” he said, grinning at how cheesy he sounded, even to his own ears.

            He opened it for her then handed it to her. She took a sip quickly, grateful for some relief from the heat. “Komawo,” she said shyly.

            “No problem,” he said, ruffling her hair. “How about I sing for you, Sora-so? I’ve been learning a lot at my company, and oppa needs to practice in front of an audience.”

            Sora could only nod, still clutching tightly to the soda bottle. He sang for her, and to her, he never looked more like an angel. To anyone else, he must have sounded like nothing more than an amateur, but to Sora, he sounded absolutely one-hundred-percent perfect.

            She wanted to remember him, just like this: singing to her, talking with her, standing in front of her looking so handsome.

            And she was so entranced it took a second for her to realize he had finished. A moment too late, she started clapping enthusiastically.

            “Did you like it, Sora-so?” he asked, looking at her, all the hopes for his future dancing in his eyes.

            “Yes! You did so well, oppa!” Sora cheered, looking and sounding truly genuine. He blushed, both embarrassed and pleased. “Seriously, oppa! You’ll be one of the best ever, I just know it!”

            “Aigoo,” he said. He grabbed her bottle and took a swig, embarrassed by her praise. “Thanks so much, Sora-so. I’ll become the best celebrity, just for you. Hwaiting!”

            “Hwaiting,” she said softly, distracted. She was still staring at the bottle in Jungsoo’s hand. She had drunk from it, then he had. To her ten-year-old eyes, it was almost as if…almost as if they had kissed.