“Jung Jaemin may not remember me, but I remember him,” Mari explains, the tremble in her voice evident as they stand in the street facing each other. The purse that Jaemin had passed to her is strewn on the road, and Mari fights tears; she’s trying so hard to love Jaemin.

And honestly, it hurts Sihoo like hell.  What did Jung Jaemin ever do to deserve her? She risked her identity, her pride, her life for him, and he doesn’t remember, doesn’t care, doesn’t appreciate it. Not even Sihoo himself deserves her. But how can she still cherish him till that extent? It’s something that Sihoo can’t comprehend. He’s wounded her so badly, and yet…

He knows he’s only going to break his own self by asking this. He has to be masochistic to even say it, because he knows the answer anyway, but he goes for it.

“Do you like Jung Jaemin?”

“I… like Jung Jaemin. I like him so much, so much that I…” Mari goes on and on, and does she even know how it pains him? Will she ever notice? Will she ever stop being selfless for Jaemin alone? When all he does is bruise her?

But as he stares at Mari, and marvels at the extent she goes for Jaemin, he realizes one thing. That he’s been losing from the start, that even if Jaemin is a prissy, ignorant son of a gun, Mari loves him so much. It’s a battle I can’t win. And really, he’s all that she wants and this is a fact that Han Sihoo cannot protest against.

A familiar figure walks down the street, and he gapes in shock as he spots the precious handbag he bought lying on the ground. Sihoo grits his teeth; Mari is still choking on tears and struggling to proclaim her unconditional, one-sided feelings for Jaemin.

If Baek Mari loves Jaemin this much, then what can I do? He still doesn’t deserve her, and he doesn’t seem to understand the lengths she’s gone for him; enduring four months in the bleak An Chi punishment room because she saved him, and then undergoing a retarded project (that’ll probably flop) just so that she can be with him again. If he loves Baek Mari, he’d better treasure her; fight for her.

It’s what I would have done. If I had half the chance Jaemin had.

Sihoo hopes Mari won’t be mad at him and would understand his purpose as he steps closer to Mari’s body that’s shaking with crying and embraces her with one arm around her smaller-framed shoulders. He takes in the look of surprised, scandalous horror on Jaemin’s face and decides that this is the happiest he’s felt ever since he found out the cause of his parents’ torture and arrest that day at his uncle Jaehee’s house. Which makes this a twisted kind of “happy”, but who cares?

(He’s enjoying how Jaemin’s jaw unhinges.)

“I’ll help you in your lovequest, so stay like this for a bit,” Sihoo mutters.

Jaemin’s fists curl, and Mari senses the tense atmosphere.

She spins around and sees Jaemin, detaching herself from Sihoo so quickly, like he’s a heating rod she needs to avoid. And, ouch. “You, what are you doing?”

Jaemin can’t even muster a glare before he stalks away from the scene in the opposite direction.

Mari stares at Sihoo accusingly as she picks up the lilac handbag from the road. Before she leaves, Sihoo grabs her hand. I’ll have to explain this slowly then, or this dumb-pire will brood at me for weeks.

“Aren’t you going to say thank you? I’m helping you.”

Mari looks like she could cut a hole in him with the lasers from her eyes.

“I’m trying to give that punk a taste of his own medicine. Whenever he gets hurt, whatever he does to you, he acts like there’s no impact, that it’s nothing special. I wanted him to feel it for once,” He explains, “But did you see the look in his eyes, the way he looked at you just now?”