Reclaiming herself Namjoo slightly bent down and kindly smiled, “Is your mom home?”

The little girl nodded and turned around to run into the house. As her footsteps eased away Namjoo gripped onto the envelope again.

Fluke’s daughter, a tall young woman whose face was free of wrinkles and age, appeared through the doorway. She was quite young, actually, perhaps younger than even Namjoo herself. Her satin black long hair coursed over her slender shoulder covered in a faced blue t-shirt and she wasn’t wearing pants, but a casual and traditional wraparound dress.

She overlooked them carefully through her narrow eyes that fit just right on her thin face, but didn’t seem to deem them as any kind of threat. Her daughter stood beside her as if trying to exude authority over their home.

“Who are you?” she questioned.

Grasping gently onto the envelope Namjoo stepped up and held it out, “It’s from your father.”

Her eyes quickly darted toward the envelope, but she didn’t accept it which left Namjoo standing there somewhat appalled and feeling like a fool.

“Come in, I was just about to eat,” she slightly smiled before turning to walk into the home.

Her little girl turned, paused, and glanced back at them before following her mother in. Namjoo stared at the empty doorway and at the envelope in her hand curious about what it was that was going on.

Contrary to the brightness outside, inside was a lot dimmer and darker. The only light received were that of the sun’s. Electricity didn’t seem to be used here.

There was a chipped closet against the wall stuffed with folded clothing and a queen sized bed with pillows against the old wooden walls of age. An open window allowed a fair amount of wind to breeze in right above it. Countless drawers with the appearance of antiques were placed at the side of the bed. Every owned object looked like they came from secondhand stores. She spotted a gas lantern on top of one of the many drawers before they headed down the stairs, another flight of steep stairs.

All that was downstairs was a dirty kitchen surrounded by narrow shelves scattered with cheap silver pots and pans and plastic bowls. Short stools were scattered about and a circular eating table weaved from straw hung on the wall. A white table poorly painted in white sat underneath it, but there was nothing on it. The broom and sweeping pan leaned against the table looking like a weak couple ready to be used and put away together. The whole room was so empty Namjoo almost couldn’t bear to look at it.

Namjoo heard short brushes of waves lapping against the house and peered outside. Water was splashing against the short wooden dock outside. Against it was a handmade boat securely tied around part of the wooden pole and what amazed Namjoo were the villagers rowing by calmly on their own boats. Straw bowls sat at the back of their boats stuffed with various goods from the market.

People here really did live on the water, Namjoo realized. This world was so different from hers.

As the fact sunk in, Fluke’s daughter set the straw table onto the floor and at the sound of soft footsteps Namjoo watched the six year old bring over some worn out bowls. She was helping her mother set the table, what a sight it was.

After a few minutes the straw table was filled with simple dishes of nothing, but fried squash, boiled fish, and rice. There were silver spoons sitting in their bowls and when Fluke’s daughter placed a pitcher of ice cold water onto the table Namjoo found herself staring at the food.

She’d never imagined a meal like this. She’d never ate anything like this her whole life, not even when she’d gone out on missions and stayed in foreign places. It wasn’t a negative outlook. Namjoo was open to new things, but she guessed she was surprised that the daughter of a well off man was living like this.  

“I’m sorry, this is all I have here,” Fluke’s daughter apologized.

“No,” Namjoo quickly said, “no, it’s not that.” She hesitated then said, “If you don’t mind, can I ask why you’re out here?”

The woman kindly smiled and Namjoo could tell she’d been asked the question so many times that she knew Namjoo was bound to ask sooner or later.

“I ran off with my poor boyfriend,” she told. “We settled down here, but my father came after us and created a ruckus, that’s why so many people know about Lord Fluke’s daughter. I wouldn’t go home, so he left in the end. I was happy at first even though it was a little painful. In the end, we’re just alone here. He takes everything now and comes and goes as he likes. That’s all. It’s just pity.” After a while she said, “Eat,” and talked no more.

Namjoo came to know the woman as Na and her daughter, Ying. Her husband hadn’t returned home in almost two weeks, but she didn’t look worried. He must have gone out so often that she’d lost the reason to care anymore. Namjoo thought she could almost relate. The only difference was that Luhan never abandoned their daughter and Ying didn’t seem to miss her dad.

Na took them out on her small boat afterward touring them around the floating market. It was crowded and the heat of the day was intensifying as the afternoon drew to a close. Shop vendors on the platforms tried to reach out for their boat and persuade them to buy goods. There were so many things on display that Namjoo would have bought a few if she’d had a good amount of money on her.

There were some wooden instruments out for sale, clothes, hats, notebooks made from recycled paper, elephant toys, and Namjoo even spotted traditional Thai dresses in the back. There was so much to see that her eyes couldn’t quite catch everything.

Na stopped by a fruit vendor and handed some watermelon back to them telling stories about how she learned to fish with just her bare hands and how she’d learned to swim from the elderly. She also talked about how the clothes here were much more comfortable than city clothes and how much money she could save for a full year’s food supply than on things like electricity and gas bills.

Namjoo thought that from listening to her talk on, she sounded like she very much liked where she was. This life was very much meant for her, but she’d been born in the wrong place: the city. Her daughter also looked at her proudly, as if wherever her mother went, she would go too.

For someone who so strongly thought of another place as her home than the home she grew up in, Namjoo also wondered about the place she regarded as home. What kind of things made up her home, who was her home, where was it?

Such questions had never appealed to her before.

She had always assumed that the place she’d grown up in was her home and the place she’d moved into was her home. But her apartment had been a home she’d rarely returned to when she was still a tactical agent. When she and Luhan shared a home, she also rarely returned to that home cause of work. Then when she quit the force, the home was just a cold box she lived in. The home with Mi Yun now was just a temporary shelter until who knows when.

A place wasn’t what Namjoo thought of as her home. No person was her home either.

Then…had she been wandering around all this time just like this?

It was a confusing thing to think about, such a complex thing to wonder about; something that brought about too many emotions: sadness and happiness. Namjoo didn’t know what she preferred. Too much happiness was suffocation and too much sadness was overwhelming. A little bit of both hurt too much.  

When they returned to her home, Na offered her and Luhan a change of clothes while she set to making them a place to sleep downstairs. After working the wraparound dress around her Namjoo found why Na found it comfortable. It offered free movement and was simple, but she wasn’t really one for dresses or skirts or tight clothes for the matter.

The t-shirt she’d slipped on smelled like clean air since it’d been hung out to dry. Namjoo was sniffing the shirt when she heard Na talking to Luhan downstairs.

“I’m sorry, I can only offer you this,” Na apologized setting a pillow on the floor she’d covered with a blanket.

“Is it like this?” Luhan asked lifting the mosquito net up to hook it up against the ceiling.

She’d offered him some of her husband’s clothes and they looked shabby on him as if downgrading his appearance.

“Yes, just like that,” Na nodded and her eyes wavered over to the white net hanging down like a veil.  

They were supposed to sleep under that, Namjoo supposed.  

The hazy aqua glow in the sky was signaling that the sun was melting away. Behind them in the corner of the room young Ying was trying to light up the gas lantern while squatting down. Her hair was sticking to her head again even after her bath, but Namjoo supposed it couldn’t be helped since the heat wasn’t one to just leave. 

“If you’re uncomfortable, do let me know.”

They both smiled at her and bid each other good night before Na took Ying’s hand and led her up the stairs. Namjoo watched them go up and turned to see Luhan slipping under the mosquito net. He twisted around and looked up and reached out to touch the net interested.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked. “Come in, before the flies do.”

Namjoo stared at the sight before her and pressed her lips together. Lifting the net up she walked inside the cramped space that had been made for them at the far end of the room. The net didn’t offer a lot of space for them either and Namjoo was almost dreading the thought of sleeping so close to him.

“Na said the waves might get too loud at night and we might have trouble sleeping, so she says it’s better to sleep over here,” Luhan said sitting down. “You cold?”

That was when Namjoo realized they didn’t have a blanket.

“No,” Namjoo replied monotonously while sitting down.

Their arms brushed, so did their legs.

This area was too small, but there was nothing to be done either. It wasn’t like this was a house of luxury. It was Na’s home, a place she loved better than the city.

“She’s happy here,” Luhan spoke. “Ending up in a place like this doesn’t seem too bad. It’s almost a whole new start.”

He let out a loud breath as he lay down. The room was starting to get encased in a box of darkness and Namjoo almost couldn’t see the kitchen at the far end of the room anymore. All she heard were the waves crashing against the dock outside. Not even an animal was heard outside.

After a minute Namjoo also lay down, placing her head onto the pillow. Her shoulder landed on his uncomfortably. They were too cramped.

“Night, Namjoo,” he said before turning his back to her to offer her some space.

She glanced at him through the corner of her eye, “You don’t have to sleep like that if it’s uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine, lets just sleep.”

And they slept until she woke up a few hours later. Her eyes fluttered open against Luhan’s back as she heard quiet clattering noises from behind her. It was when she recognized the dim glow of a flame lighting the room up that she realized she was hugging Luhan for some warmth.

Slowly withdrawing her arms she sat up and rubbed her eyes before turning to see who it was that was up. The shadow of a small child weaved itself over the walls and Namjoo got out of the mosquito net to walk over.

When she neared she saw that Ying had a frying pan on the gas stove with some oil poured into it. Namjoo peered down at the quiet girl and crouched down to her height.

“Are you hungry?” Namjoo asked.

“Yea.”

Namjoo smiled, “Do you want some help?”

“I know how to make an egg.”

“Do you?” Namjoo asked. “Then can I watch?”

The little girl nodded and walked over to the gas stove as if she were an adult. She stared down at the knob of the tank trying to figure out which way to turn it. Namjoo watched closely, ready to aid her if she needed anything.

She was drawn in by this little girl, who seemed so independent by herself. She almost looked like an adult equal to her mother when together. Ying was just being protective, Namjoo realized, since her mother had to do everything alone for her – them.

A smile befell her face as she set her chin in her palm, but quickly jumped when something seemed to crash outside. Namjoo immediately turned to stare at the closed door wondering what it was. Had it been the boat that had hit the dock? But would it have been as loud as someone throwing a boulder at the door?

Namjoo’s eyes sat on the door and she turned toward the stairs when Na hurriedly rushed down. She had something with her, something silver, but Namjoo was unable to depict what it was. Then all of a sudden the door burst open with a loud kick and a man stumbled in. He paused after a step and his head lolled forward. He swayed a little and hiccupped, and that was when Namjoo realized he was drunk.

“Stay away!” Na shouted holding out the revolver in her hand bravely, but she was shaking.

Ying had frozen behind Namjoo with wide eyes in terror. Namjoo wondered why she was still crouching down when all of this was going on…and how often did this happen?!

“You can’t do that. You won’t,” his words slightly slurred as he stared at Na confidently. Then he hit his chest, “You love me! That’s why you’re here. Where’s the money?”

“You’re not getting it! I said stay away!” she shouted once more when he took a step forward.

Namjoo almost held her breath when she remembered setting the money down on the white table in the room. He would see it even without having to ransack the home. Maybe that was why it was so empty…

Another step forward, closer to her and she screamed, “I said don’t!”

“Shut up, !” he shouted slapping her with the back of his hand so hard that Na literally fell over.

Namjoo’s eyes widened in horror at the violence she’d just witnessed. Na’s husband drunkenly looked around and stumbled from side to side before looking at the envelope on it. He took another step forward and Namjoo was prepared to get up to race him for it, but Ying rushed forward unexpectedly.

“Bad! You bad! Why do you hit mom!?” Ying cried grabbing his leg.

He shook his leg to shake her off, but she clung on so hard that he could barely move. Finally, he pried her off with his hand and literally tossed her to the floor with a thud. Ying was so thin and tiny, Namjoo worried that she’d gotten injured.

She listened to Na’s husband grunt impatiently and angrily before he spotted the pan on the stove. He was big and he moved quickly. As he lifted the pan up, Namjoo flew over to Ying. Pressing the young girl’s head against her shoulder and wrapping an arm around her thin body, Namjoo readied herself for the hit…which never came.

When she twisted her neck around she spotted Luhan putting the drunk man into a choke hold, restraining his hand from movement. With a sigh of relief Namjoo let go of the girl and stood.

“Mom!” Ying cried running over to hug her mother and sobbed in arms of safety.

“What are you doing?” Luhan questioned when Namjoo pried the pan out of the drunken man’s grip.

“Putting him to sleep,” Namjoo mumbled resituating her hands around the handle. “Hold him well.”

“Wait, Namjoo…” Luhan tried.

Namjoo waved the pan back and forth readying herself for the hit before finally swinging it right into his face with a loud bang. When his head dropped forward she set the pan back on the stove.

“Sorry about that,” Namjoo apologized to the injured Na then turned to Luhan, “drop him.”

“Huh?”

Namjoo shot Luhan a tiny glare before he let go of the man and he loudly landed on the floor.

“Why don’t you two go get some sleep? We’ll handle things from here.” Namjoo turned to Ying and Na.       

Na glanced at her with part curiosity and caution, but had no question. She must have seen some violence since her father was a part of the black market, so without word she carried her terrified daughter and headed upstairs.

“What are you up to?” Luhan turned to her.

“Teaching him a lesson,” Namjoo slightly bent down and ed Na’s husband’s jean.

Luhan immediately pulled her up, “What are you doing!?”

Pushing him off, Namjoo turned to look at him, “What does it look like I’m doing?”

He stammered and hesitated. Finally catching on, Namjoo slightly punched him.

“You’re sick,” Namjoo muttered.

“No! I didn’t mean it like that!” Luhan defended.

“Yea, right,” Namjoo started to bend down again, but he pulled her back up. “What is it?!”

He let out a loud sigh flustered, “Don’t touch him. I’ll do it.”

Namjoo ended up watching Luhan strip him down to his underwear before they tied him to the pole on the dock outside. Unable to bring herself to sleep under that mosquito net without recalling how she’d been hugging Luhan before awaking, she sat on the stairs to stare at the waves.

They seemed calmer now, but still dark and ugly. Namjoo didn’t want to go near it for fear of something coming up to pull her in. Her imagination seemed inconvenient sometimes.

“The hinges are weak,” Luhan said from behind.

When she turned around her forehead bumped into his knee. Quickly turning around from where he’d been standing she rubbed her forehead with a groan and listened to him chuckle from behind.

“Sorry,” he apologized and walked forward to take a seat next to her. “You’re not going back to sleep?”

“No.”

Luhan firmly smiled and leaned forward, “You protected her. You were scared, weren’t you?”

Her eyes drifted to her bare feet, “You could see it in her eyes, that she’s seen him hit her mother before. That’s why she doesn’t miss her father like how Mi Yun misses you.”

There was a short laugh from him, “I can’t hurt you, you know that.”

Namjoo shot him a glance and felt him push her head down as he got up, walked away, and came back with the pillow.

“Move aside,” he ordered and stole her spot by the door. Placing the pillow on his shoulder while leaning against the door he said, “If you’re tired, lean here and sleep.”

Namjoo stared at the pillow blocking his face from view and turned to stare at the unwelcoming waves with a short smile. The difference between Na’s husband and Luhan was that Luhan didn’t abandon Mi Yun, but came back for her as he promised he always would. After a while Namjoo ended up leaning against him, but they wound up sleeping on the floor curled together. 

***Awww...another getaway from them...until they get back. Then Sungjae, disappointment, drama, and finally the argument about the apartment which will end up paving way to more of their relationship! And finally, after all that, Namjoo's birthday night huhu~~