A year later, on October 6^th at 11:25pm, a man suddenly appeared during a heavy thunderstorm at the doorstep of the Seoul Joshi Orphanage. Drenched to the bone, he politely asked to come in to dry himself; he also asked if they by any chance knew where the nearest gas station was, as he was running low. The tired patrolling nurse looked him up and down with a knowing eye and nodded, inviting him in. She gave him a change of clothes, a blanket and a print out of a map with indifference; then she mumbled ‘Help yourself to anything you need’ and went back to solving her Sudoku puzzle.

For a while the man sat in the dimly lit kitchen with his fingers intertwined in front of his face, and watched the clock arrow strike midnight as he waited for the rain to ceaze. He didn’t do much except stare into space. Perhaps he was in his late 40’s, or maybe even his early 50’s? A decade back he would have been considered quite handsome, especially with such a tall lean stature. But his gaze was so firm, so dark, so experienced and so cynical, that even people his own age felt uncomfortable looking him in the eye.

A couple of times he ran his hand through his messy, untrimmed black hair in frustration. A couple of times he raised himself to leave, but he sat down each time - it’s not like he had anywhere to go anyways. Lost in thought, he took out a silver coin and began fiddling with it, as if waiting for something to happen. It mischievously twinkled in the limited light, flashing various memories it held, both good and bad.

The rain continued to mercilessly bombard the windows and time went by too slowly.

And the coin kept turning, twirling, gliding through his slim fingers….

Heads…

Tails…

Heads…

Tails…

“What country is that from?” Startled, the man nearly dropped his coin into the herbal tea. He looked up to find a girl of about 9 years intently studying his coin. She was tall, thin, and quite pretty for her age. But her eyes were so…so lifeless?

Of all the questions this brat could have asked, she just had to ask the same one so many adults did. God, where has all the innocence gone to in this modern world?

“This coin…is special.” He purposely made his voice monotone to brush her off.

“Custom made?” barely moved. And her eyes never left the coin to look at him. It was as if he some other object. The more he looked at her, the more she resembled a porcelain doll. But her lack of emotion and disinterest weren’t particularly unpleasant. It was nice to know both of them shared mutual indifference towards each other.

“What’s your name?” She forced herself to look away from the coin and sit down to face him.

“Naeun.” she spoke as if she was listing data for an official.

The conversation that hardly existed to begin with stalled.

“Call me Mr. Son” he finally murmured, just for the sake of it. Then the room grew quiet again and the weather screeched against the windows. Mr. Son resumed his coin spinning in attempt to ignore the little girl, but her gaze was burning into him.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” he asked, annoyed.

“I should be. But I’m not. I’m here.”

“You’re disobeying rules” He frowned at her. “Go back before you get caught.”

“I’m bored. I never have any dreams.” Naeun pouted, “Other kids always talk about having fun dreams – why don’t I ever have a dream?”

“You do, you just don’t remember.”

“No, I remember nearly every dream. But they’re always the same one.” Naeun didn’t frown but her voice shook. Mr. Son stopped his coin-fiddling and looked at her with curiosity.

As she let her eyes wander anxiously, the girl continued “I always dream of an apartment with broken windows and white curtains. Whenever I look outside I get the urge to jump out, as if I can fly. But then I feel extreme horror come over me, as if it’s about to choke me. I fall to the floor and lie there. I can never move, not even an inch. I just stare at the black ceiling.” She swallowed hard “And when I close my eyes I wake up.”

Mr. Son suddenly felt both sorry and amused. Was she really just a child?

“And then you say you don’t have dreams. That one obviously means something ya ‘now.” he said and took a sip of his once-hot tea. The rain was beginning to fade outside, he noticed. “I should go…and you should go to bed”

“You’re leaving?” He didn’t know why she was so surprised. He was too though, thinking they would never meet again. It’s strange how people come and leave in one’s life.

Mr. Son frowned “You’re breaking rules by staying up. Other kids would want to do the same, what makes you think you’re so special?” He didn’t quite know if he said this to her or to himself or to the wall he stared down.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not.”

“Yes I am.”

“No you’re not.”

“I am.”

“I thought you were better than to argue like a child.”

“And I thought you were better than to pointlessly lecture like a shallow adult.”

At this Mr. Son gave her a quick glare. What the heck. Sitting here, quarrelling with an 9 year-old at one o’clock in the morning. If only his colleagues could see him now. Ha! Still, he picked up his coin again, gave it one last twirl, and tossed it to the girl. She barely caught it and looked at him with wide eyes.

“Take it and leave me alone.”

She looked at the coin for a while, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

“You’re right. I’m not sorry at all.” she said slowly. She paused, “but if I go, you will be lonely again.”

In that moment Mr. Son wanted nothing more than the earth to swallow him up whole and shield him from her black, empty eyes. That’s right, her eyes weren’t emotionless. They were just too unnaturally open. So open he could actually see his own reflection in them, like mirrors. The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile.

“Me? Lonely? No. No. Of course not. No.”

The doll-like girl didn't move or blink.

He took a sip of that disgusting beverage they actually dared to call “tea” and tried to smirk at her. Then he felt something inside him burst and his vision began to blur. His hands shook so bad he had to put the mug down and hide them under the table. His throat was dry. But Mr. Son’s expression remained the same, frozen in his attempted smirk, making no noise.

“Do you like it here?” He asked, trying to steady his voice. On second thought, what a stupid question! What sane child would like living in an orphanage, knowing that somewhere out there kids just like them have a home to belong granted to them for nothing! But it’s not like he was some miracle angel who could save anyone he wanted. He didn’t care for children, to be quite honest. But Naeun…Naeun, he knew, would burn into his memory for a long time.

With that soft charcoal hair, pale ghostly skin and glossy eyes - she would haunt him.

“You’ll come with me from today on.” He just had no choice.

Naeun looked up confused.

Mr. Son wiped his eyes, went into his pants pockets, and fetched out two fists full of newly printed bills.

He then got up and walked over for a chit-chat with the dozed off nurse. Naeun couldn’t hear what he said, but she sure saw the nurse’s eyes nearly fall out of their eye sockets at the sight of the money. Where did he get it? Why was it carelessly stuffed into his pockets? Did he rob a bank? Maybe she should run before he gets her? Naeun didn’t even care. Her legs flew to her room and her hands shoved everything she ever owned into a bag by themselves. She never thought she could possibly be adopted. She never thought about possiblly leaving the orphanage either. But if she didn’t take a leap of faith the same way that weird man did when he decided to adopt her, Naeun would regret it for a long time. Her mind remained completely blank till the moment the car moved, and from then on she slept like a dead man on the back of Mr. Son’s old vehicle, still dreaming of the apartment but no longer scared of it.