“I’m …sorry I’m…late!” Hana panted as she ran into the classroom, slamming the door open in the process.

But when she finally looked up, she almost ran back out the door. Her eyes scanned the few, scattered heads among the desks; wow, a total 5 people excluding her.

The teacher was napping on the teacher’s desk, drool hanging from the corner of his mouth.

“Um…Sir…sir? May I ask why-”

“No point in asking,” a boy smiled, shaking his head and walking up to her, extending a pale hand.

“This class has a record for being unpopular among students. Nobody believes in true art anymore.”

Hana dropped her backpack onto an empty seat beside the boy and couldn’t help but feel rather depressed when she took in the many empty seats.

“So…this is it?”

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure the professor doesn’t care. I hear this is the fullest class for this subject they’ve had for a while. Oh, by the way, Onew here.”

“Oh, I’m Hana, and if you’re wondering why I’m all wet and dirty, don’t ask.”

Onew grinned, happy that he made a friend already, amidst the…ahem…sad classroom atmosphere. Taking another look around the class, he realized that only he and Hana were still awake, as everybody else laid their head upon the desk to sleep.

“I can’t people would pay so much…to come here and… sleep…” Hana started, flipping over her sketchbook, wondering what she was going to do for the rest of the class… well…and the year.

“Well, I wasn’t planning on sitting here and wasting my life.”

“And what are you going to do about this?” Hana asked, raising her eyebrows.

“How about a lesson outside today?” Onew asked, already tugging Hana outside.

Hana grinned, pausing only long enough to grab her sketchbook and rough pencil.

“You see, ever since I was young, my mother has taught me to follow my heart, and so whatever makes me most happy,” Onew started, setting himself down on the huge wet rock nearby.

“My mom believed in being passive for the person you love… love, to her, was all she had…my father… was all she had.”

Onew looked at Hana, wondering if he should smile in encouragement, or frown in sympathy.

“Don’t feel bad for me,” Hana smiled, resting her sketchbook on her lap as she set down next to Onew. “My mother was and still is my inspiration, but unfortunately, she would never be my role model. I don’t plan on living life being submissive to anybody.”

“Living freely is hard, Hana. When I was little, I got mad at my mom and dad, so I ran away from home, believing that freedom was all I need. Boy was I wrong when I nearly starved on the streets, clutching, guess what? My family portrait; I was wishing for my parents to go pick me up. Call me someone with no backbone, but I wouldn’t be able to live away from all that I’ve constructed; I wouldn’t be able to run away from all that I have without feeling regret for the lost memories.”

“Sometimes, we would run away…in hopes of forgetting memories embedded too deeply into our minds.”

“Numbing doesn’t help the situation,” Onew warned, wondering when the conversation became so serious. Were they not kidding around not long ago? He sensed the tense atmosphere, and was aware of an impending danger.

Hana grew quiet as she closed her eyes to remember the haunted look in the man she had met at the fountain; she remembered the way he had glanced at her so briefly, but the deep pit of his eyes were bottomless, emotionless.

Steps crunching onto the crisp leaves left over from the winter season startled both Hana and Onew out of their thoughts, and they turned to look at the approaching stranger.

The man was tall, casting a shadow so large that both of the two on the ground felt overpowered, even by the single shadow.

“I am here to return a button.” He stated simply, words concise, but roughly projected as his whisper was carried to their ears only by the gusts of wind, and he made no effort in concealing his disinterest.

Hana stared up at the man, questioning his arrival and intentions.

Why had the fountain man return to give her a button that belonged to him?

“I do not accept favours from others. You found the button, and so, the button belongs to no other, but you.”

“I don’t need the button,” Hana tried to tell him, cocking her head as to see him better.

“I washed the button.”

“The thing is, I don’t need the button, and you are the rightful owner!” Hana stated, exasperated.

He looked at her. Briefly. And then he glanced back towards the ground.

“Then I owe you a favour; who do you wish I kill for you?” 

~~~~~~~~~~

- ICEDCOFFEE

P.S. Sorry for grammatical errors!