The chittering wasn’t as loud as usual, but the rocking of the cart was giving Hara a migraine. She closed he eyes, popping earbuds in to take her mind off things. For a few minutes her motion sickness calmed and her head pain eased. Then the train beeped and came to a jerking halt causing her to look about.

She watched as bodies exited and entered through the mechanical double doors. She frowned when she was pushed and unintentionally d as people shoved in. gripping the handle above her, Hara frowned even more; a grimace almost, as the doors closed and the train began to move again.

Once again she felt sick, but it was only half because of her motion disability. The other half was because her stop was next, and she was terrified. What if she tripped on the way to her destination and tore her skirt; or maybe the address she has is wrong and she ends up lost; or maybe the address is right and just plain out s up her interview.

That can’t happen; none of that can happen. She was counting on this interview to launch her career. If she didn’t land this job she’d graduate unemployed, a loser. What would her peers think of her? How would she explain a lapse in her resume whenever she did find a job? No way, she wouldn’t allow it.

Besides, she had other stresses in her life at the moment. Hara would not allow this to be one of them. She’d ace this interview, and when they called her back for the second one, she’d ace that too. She was not a failure.

“Good university, great grades, tons of volunteer work, and even an internship with one of the top law firms in Korea. Miss Goo you are everything Gajog Law is looking for, paper wise. So now that is established, please tell us what makes you right for Gajog and our clients?” the interview asked.

Hara smiled, ironing out her suede skirt with her hands. “Well, like my resume shows, I’ve taken courses outside of school to better my knowledge on not only law procedures but police as well. I’ve also gone to classes on counselling and family etiquette so as to be able to better handle the type of clients Gajog Law takes on.”

The three interviewers laughed awkwardly, while the main person shuffled the papers before him. Clearing his throat he met Hara with a gentle smile. “Miss Goo, while that is great to know, what I meant was, what makes you an asset to Gajog. We are a family here, and we also consider our clients as family, not a…type.”

What? Hara frowned, tilting her head. She just described why’d she’d be an asset, and family…what the hell was that supposed to mean?

Apparently she took too long to answer as the woman on the left coughed and leaned toward the guy in the middle. The spoke in whispers for a second before the guy in the middle nodded and glanced at Hara.

Clapping his hands, he smiled and said, “It seems time has run out, as we have a few more interviewees in line.” He and the two beside him stood making Hara follow in their lead, a lost look to her.

Grabbing her portfolio, the girl followed them to the door, stuttering, “W-what day would you like me to come back for the second interview? My schedule is free…well except for tomorrow afternoon, but I can move that around too if need be.”

The main interview glanced at his companions then back at Hara. With a soft smile he gently shook her hand and nodded. “There’s no need to move anything around. How about the day after tomorrow, same time, come in. we’d like you to prepare a resolve based off this case,” he handed her a thick manila envelope, “and present it to us. Also, Miss Goo, take the time to consider why you are best placed at Gajog. Not just for us, but for you too Miss Goo. You wouldn’t want to work somewhere that’s not fit for you. Just think about that alright?”

Blinking, Hara nodded, accepting the envelope. “I’ll do my best sir. Thank you.” She bowed and allowed him to open the door for her. She suddenly felt so confused.

The interview had taken longer than she though, although she really didn’t mind, but now she was rushing out of a cab and through a set of doors where crying people were trudging out of. She paid them no mind though, on swerving down a hall and into her uncle Jongg. The older man frowned at her, mumbling obscenities and pushed her toward a bathroom, a pile of robes in hand.

Cursing as well, the girl hurriedly tried to garner the clothing, making it look as presentable as possible. Once she was done she splashed water in her face and looked in the mirror. For a moment, she allowed herself to let her ice princess down. As she did, her eyes immediately teared up, her nose reddened, and she was forced to cover with her hand.

Clutching the sink with her other hand, she closed her eyes and sobbed. The façade was only down for a minute though when her uncle knocked on the door. Wetting her face again, Hara patted the water away with a tissue and exited the restroom.

“You alright baby girl?” he asked, patting her shoulder.

Hara gave a stiff nod and bypassed him. She carefully entered the gloomy room, coming upon the flower surrounded portrait of her father. She did her ceremonial bowing, letting a small prayer leave her lips at the end before taking her place next to her mother.

She kneeled on the uncomfortable pillow and steeled herself from the pitiful wales of her mother. They sat like that with her uncle by the door for two hours. A few people trickled in here and there, but they could be counted on two hands. There generic condolences were even more pitiful than her mother, and took all Hara had not to scoff in their faces.

She also had to control the sneer she felt at their judging eyes. Just because her father died didn’t mean she had to throw her pride away and break down. What did it matter if her lips were pink with the lipstick she dawned for her interview hours earlier? And why should she feel bad if she forgot to bring white socks and was still wearing her hose she had worn under her business skirt? At least she was wearing the rest of the hideous ceremonial robes one wore to wakes.

Hara looked at the clock. When would this thing end? She only had one day to go over the case file she was given. That was life or death, not this place. How would sitting in a cold room with some ashes bring her father back? They wouldn’t, so why was she forced to be here? Hell, even that woman didn’t show up!

That woman. Hara couldn’t help but scoff thinking of her. Of course she wouldn’t show up. She was even worse than Hara when it came to traditional ceremonies. Pft, she probably didn’t even know the meaning of tradition…or ceremony for that matter. She probably couldn’t even spell it.

“Dinner’s almost ready sweet heart. Can you s