It was a day that came every year, one Sehun wished to erase from his calendar, from his memory and from the world. On this day he felt nothing but gloom, a haunting distress that he’d never learnt to overcome. His melancholy accentuated on this day where leaves had prepared to turn orange and crisp and fall to the ground where they were vulnerable. It was a day that he couldn’t bear with the stress of work, and peculiarly his employees were allowed to take off work, a holiday for some.

Normally he chose to drive or wilt in a park watching people live their busy lives. It was a day where he chose isolation from all he knew, one where he refused to speak or stay in contact with others. It was on this very day when he received a spine chilling message. It was from a number he’d always wanted to but had been unable to delete from the contents of his memory. It was from Park Kyungri’s phone.

Without thinking twice, he dashed, wanting to meet her. He almost flung himself into his car and typed co-ordinates of the location she’d sent him. For years they’d been segregated and he’d never known why she would leave him waiting on their anniversary day until the hours bled from dusk to dawn, only to discover that she’d dumped him for money and a penthouse in a country his mother barricaded for him. She’d crashed his world, left him a person on verge of collapse, and just when he’d brushed her into the corner of his mind she’d re-emerged. He wouldn’t let her go this time. If she left him, he would surely follow. Not even death would do them part.

Driving recklessly he allowed himself to be put in danger, those who approached were just unfortunate. He wasn’t going to break rules but he wished there was no ‘speed limit.’ It only hindered his time.

Skyscrapers became small buildings, motorways became long narrow roads and the scenery changed from urban to grass. He parked his vehicle on the gravel. The place where she’d asked to meet was strangely isolated.

An old house stood on its foundation, its windows bared, its door slightly ajar, and the paint long worn. It was anything but homely. A gangly tree twisted it way against gravity and a swing grated eerily. The stillness was disrupted by the sound of his shoes crunching stones. It raised the neck of a squirrel who shot across the path, scurrying into the tree before Sehun could get near. He didn’t pay much heed. His gaze glued to the door.

He gulped and tried to create sound from his lips to utter a name whose owner’s voice he longed to hear. He was afraid for the first time, afraid this was a mirage he’d created and that there would be no result to his endeavour. He wanted to make it last a little longer. Perhaps she would come. Maybe he could speak to her and hear her mellifluous tone come from and not from someone who appeared to look like her. He had so much to say. The emotions overwhelmed him, suffocatingly so. He thought he might drown in the hallucination before her shadow even came to be.

The door grated on its hinges. He pushed it lightly and squinted to shape the darkness. There were shapes muffled by clothes. The scent of dust and moisture made his nostrils itch. He covered his nose and dared to step inside. The floorboards were uneven under his step. He felt them creak. It was an odd place where she’d asked to see him. He might have accepted it as a prank had her silhouette not been standing with her back to him. He recognised her instantly. His arm dropped to his side. No longer was the room dirty, squeaky or scary. “Park Kyungri...” He choked not sure whether to be relieved or shocked. “Kyungri.” Her name rolled over his tongue like a lost treasure.

He felt his heart constrict and tears brimmed. An influx of varied emotions attacked him all at once. He didn’t plan to weep, he didn’t think he’d break down, but his layer of coldness was melting at a pace that left him vulnerable.

Something hard met the back of his head. It smacked him into a cluster of confusion. His sight dimmed abruptly. He felt a dizzying numbness zip through his nervous system, shutting down his body. He bleated and staggered towards her. They were so close. He could almost feel her scent. The attack came again, more sharply this time. It seared. He stumbled, clutching the back of his head. His hand met with a sticky warmth. His stomach churned and his head thurmed to steal his consciousness.

-

Yüzhen had been zoning out at the coffee shop. Her drink sat untouched, wisps of aromatic steam curling into the atmosphere. Normally she would have sipped the froth and  delighted in its fuzzy warmth.

Today she was distracted, staring blankly at her phone screen, watching the typeset blink, clicking the home button whenever the screen darkened. Her communication skills had been absorbed with thoughts of Sehun. She surrendered with a groan knowing fully well that a minute was all she could last before picking her phone again.

Procrastination, she was doing it. She might have continued for the rest of the day had something not made her jump out of her seat. She almost knocked down her coffee. Her eyes bulged at the television screen, aghast.

Oh Corporation’s systems had been hacked into. It’s funds were gone. The whole company was in panic. Shaking with dread, she grab