Haneul’s heart pounded as she stared fearfully at the wooden door, her fingers anxiously twiddling back and forth as she worked up the courage to knock. She was standing on the opposite side of the school hallway, having been excused from her class to attend her first appointment with the school counselor. The previous day, Sandeul’s parents, as her temporary guardians until she graduated high school, had called to schedule one upon Sandeul’s insistence. Though she had promised her best friend that she would indeed see the counselor, she had been up all night sick with worry, terrified that the woman would diagnose her with some mental illness and ship her off to a facility. She placed a hand to as the urge to hurl rose to for what seemed to be the hundredth time in just the last ten minutes, and she hastily swallowed, taking a shaky and deep breath afterward. She regretted coming alone.

Sandeul had asked if she wished him to accompany her, but she had grown embarrassed and declined. He had respected her decision, but now she wished that he had been more persistent. She glanced up at the clock, noticing that she was already fifteen minutes late for her appointment. Taking another deep breath and balling her hands into fist, she crossed the hallway in only two strides and hammered on the door before her courage wavered.

“Come in,” called a cheerful feminine voice, and Haneul quivered as she gripped the cold metal of the doorknob. She slowly turned it and pushed the door open; the old wood creaked as she peered around the corner.

“H-hello? I’m Haneul; I’m here for my appointment,” she called nervously as she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. The office was much homelier than she had imagined; the walls were painted a calming green, accenting the rich oak furniture that adorned the room. There was a large bookshelf, standing almost as tall as the room itself and stuffed with all manner of books, from teen fiction to psychology textbooks, to Haneul’s left. A row of filing cabinets was to her right, and above them hung a large painting of a nature scene, a dirt road lined with lush trees and bushes. Straight in front of her sat a pair of comfy, plush chairs, and beyond that was an oaken desk covered in knick-knacks and office supplies. Behind it, staring warmly at her through a pair of stylish glasses, sat the counselor. She was a middle-aged woman, with laugh lines beginning to show in her face and wispy hair tied loosely in a bun. She immediately made Haneul feel at ease.

“Hello, Haneul. I’m glad you decided to come see me. I was beginning to grow worried. Did your teacher hold you up?” the kind woman inquired as Haneul took a seat in the plush chair. She sank down into the soft fabric, and it felt like the chair was embracing her. It was quite comforting.

“I was nervous,” she admitted quietly. “I was scared that you would think I was insane, and ship me away.” Haneul jumped slightly when the woman began to laugh, but it was not incriminating; it was warm, like that of a parent enjoying something humorous their child did.

“My dear, I don’t think you’re crazy,” she mused, taking out a floral-print notebook and a pen. She flipped open to an open page, neatly writing Haneul’s name at the top. “I have received quite a few details already from Sandeul and his parents, and what I have heard does not spell ‘insanity’ to me. No, my dear, you are trying to grieve, but you just don’t know how to do it,” she explained as she leaned back in her chair. Haneul blinked. She was mildly impressed that the woman had already come to a relative conclusion despite not talking to her yet, and she wasn’t sure if it was a mark of professionalism or overconfidence.

“I’m trying to grieve, and I don’t know how to do it?” she echoed, and the counselor nodded.

“Yes, but before we get to that, I want to hear what you’re going through in your own words,” the woman smiled, her pen poised to take notes. “I understand that the last few days have been particularly rough for you. Tell me exactly how you’ve been feeling.” Haneul tipped her head to the side, pondering the question. She supposed it was a sensible one, but it was particularly difficult to answer, simply because it was hard to describe her feelings in words.

“Well… I supposed frustrated is the only way that I can put it,” she replied finally, and the counselor narrowed her eyes slightly. Assuming that was a sign the woman wanted elaboration, she continued, “I just want to move past this, but everything is just making me so angry. All of my classmates are talking about me, and I know that’s what people are going to do, but it makes me feel like they’re judging me, like it’s my fault. I’m used to being the talk of the school, hanging out with someone like Sandeul, but it feels different somehow. All of the adults have changed, too. They all give me strange looks, like they feel sorry for me. The thing is, I don’t want to be pitied. I understand that something bad happened to me, but a lot of bad things have happened to me before this. I just want it all to go away. I want to move on, and graduate high school, and go to college, and just get away.” Once she finished, Haneul released a deep breath, and she felt like all of the pent-up rage and frustration left with it. She was amazed at the effect simply revealing her inner self had.

“I see,” the counselor nodded after she regarded the response. She leaned forward in her chair, meshing her fingers together. “Haneul, it sounds to me like you’re trying to run away from your problems,” she decided. When the girl opened to object, the woman held up a hand for silence. “You’ve had a hard life. You needed a way to cope with all of the strife and frustration, and so you channeled your energy into school, therefore shoving the problems aside. Now that the final straw has come, all of those pent-up feelings are hitting you at once, and now that you have to confront something you can’t push aside, you don’t know what to do.” Haneul’s eyes widened slightly as she stared slack-jawed at the counselor. What she was saying made perfect sense, and it was absolutely terrifying.

“Tell me how to make it go away,” she whispered, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. It was growing hard to breathe, and the sensation of wanting to throw up had returned full-force, but she could not quash it.

“Well, the obvious answer is to confront your issue- the death of your mother, and the abuse you suffered at the hands of your stepfather,” she answered, leaning back in her chair once more. “However, I don’t think that you are ready for that,” she frowned, staring at a point of blank paint on the wall. “You’re focusing on the bad in your life, and that is preventing you from dealing with the issue, because you’re inventing smaller problems to avoid dealing with the overarching one. Therefore, what you must do is stop focusing on the bad.”

“How do I do that?” Haneul muttered. She makes it sound like I can just wave a magic wand and make all the paranoia and frustration go away. Her chest was beginning to grow tight, and she grimaced slightly as her stomach twisted in knots. Everything that the woman was saying was making her more anxious by the second. The way it sounded, Haneul would never recover. It was useless, all useless. She was beginning to regret coming when the woman continued to speak.

“You just have to find something good, Haneul,” she smiled slightly. “A hobby, a place, a person- it can be anything. Fill your life with it, make it your reason to keep pushing forward, and eventually you’ll change you outlook on life. Then we can move forward with dealing with your grief.”

“Something good,” she murmured. The tightness in her chest suddenly vanished, and her stomach settled. It was sound advice; it had been a long, long time since she had done anything but study until she fell asleep at her desk, crammed weeks before tests, or write notes until the pencil bit into her fingers and she bled. She couldn’t even remember what she had done for fun before her mother had married her stepfather. She couldn’t remember going anywhere but school and home, school and home; she was highly certain that the jaunt to town with Sandeul had been the very first outing in years. As for a special person, Haneul was thoroughly shocked when the first person who flashed in her mind was not her best friend, but a certain black-winged demon.

“Yes. Only you can find it, Haneul; I can’t tell you what your ‘something good’ will be. You have to discover it for yourself,” the woman smiled sagely, and all Haneul could do was nod slowly in response. Interrupting her thoughts, she school bell suddenly rang shrilly through in intercom in the small office, signaling the end of the school day. Haneul rose from her seat and bowed her head respectfully.

“Thank you for taking the time to see me, ma’am,” she thanked her graciously. Though she had possessed her misgivings, the counselor visit had been quite enlightening, and had given her much to ponder.

“I want you to come back and see me in two weeks,” the woman responded firmly, marking a date on her calendar. “I hope by then that you will have made some progress, but if not, don’t stress about it. Sometimes these things take time,” she smiled before waving her hand for Haneul to be dismissed. Haneul slung her bookbag onto her back and walked out of the door and into the crowd of students hurrying out of the school building to make it to work on time, get a head start on studying, or enjoy the rare free afternoon. Sandeul was waiting impatiently outside the door for her, and instantly grabbed her by the shoulders when she stepped out.

“Well? How did it go?” he asked worriedly. She smiled up at him.

“It went really well. She gave me good counsel,” she mused, and her friend sighed heavily in relief.

“That’s really good. I’m glad she could help you, Haneul,” he grinned at her. “Well then, to celebrate, why don’t we go out and do something?” he suggested, and frowned sadly when she shook her head in refusal.

“No, Sandeul, not tonight. I want to go for a walk by myself. I have a lot to think about,” she answered, and he nodded in understanding. He escorted her all the way to the sidewalk before turning to head for home, waving goodbye before trudging off to his house. Haneul went in the opposite direction, her feet wandering the sidewalk as her mind wandered her thoughts, and before she knew it, she had ended up at the park at the elementary school on the opposite side of town. She stood outside the chain-link fence, staring at the playground while visions of her childhood self ran across the grass, slid down the slides, and swung on the swings. As if they had a mind of their own, her hands unhooked the latch on the gate and her feet carried her into the park, and she simply stared as the ghost of a younger Sandeul chased her around and around. She had completely forgotten the place, her childhood years locked away by the misfortune of her teenage ones, until now. She ran her fingers over the molded plastic of the slides, jumping as static electricity sparked on her fingers. She climbed through the metal play structure, ducking at the low ceilings, until she came to the top and peered out over the railing. Although she was much older, the familiar rush of exhilaration of seeing the street and neighborhood spread out before her rushed through her body, leaving it humming with electricity. She rested her arms on the railing, leaning against it and simply gazing out, watching the world grow yellow with the setting sun and wondering how she had forgotten such precious memories, such blissful times.

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing on a playground, doll face?” called up a familiar voice, and she glanced down to see Baro standing at the bottom of the play structure, that unforgettable smirk playing across his lips. With a flap of his black wings, he soared to the top of the tower in an instant, and perched on the railing. Haneul stumbled back, surprised by his sudden appearance, and pursed her lips at him.

“I was just reminiscing,” she muttered, frustrated that she couldn’t come up with a better defense. It was the truth, however. Baro smirked wider and hopped down into the tower, stooping because he was so tall that his head brushed against the plastic ceiling if he stood at full height.

“Reminiscing,” he mused, shoving his hands in his pockets. He then narrowed his eyes at her, taking a few steps closer to her; Haneul blushed slightly, as the playhouse tower was so small that there hadn’t been much distance between them to begin with, and as he walked forward he pressed her up against the tower wall, merely inches away from her. “You’re different,” he remarked in confusion.

“Different?” she stammered, staring at the ground to avoid looking at his face as it came nearer to inspect her.

“Yeah. You smell different…” he murmured. “Are you wearing perfume?” he asked suddenly. Haneul’s face was on fire, and she nodded quickly in the hopes that the demon would back off. She normally didn’t do anything of the sort, but in order to improve her mood, Sandeul had embarked on a campaign to improve her “girliness” and take more pride in herself. Adding a few spritzes of perfume to her neck and wrists while she had been walking out of her bedroom was apparently a part of that plan. “I like it,” Baro remarked after a minute, and retreated. Sighing in relief, Haneul relaxed slightly and glanced up at him.

“What are you doing here, anyway? Do you just make a habit of following me around? Girls don’t like stalkers, you know, even if they are demons,” she mused. Baro pouted slightly and crossed his arms, avoiding her gaze.

“Come on, Haneul, you know you like me following you around,” he smirked as he leaned back against the metal railing, folding his ebony wings neatly behind his back. Strange as it was, the demon’s persistence had come to almost be reassuring; it was the one constant thing in her topsy-turvy life at the moment, and at the very least, bickering with him took her mind off her problems, if only for a short while. “Besides, I had nothing better to do,” he added with a smug look.

“Oh, I see. You just came here because you wanted to kill time, not because you actually wanted to see me,” she huffed, tossing her hair at him and walking over to the slide.

“H-hey, I didn’t mean it like that!” he cried as she slipped down into the slide, riding through the plastic tube to the bottom of the play structure. Ignoring his attempts to redeem himself, she walked over to one of the metal swings and plopped down, wrapping her hands around the slightly rusty chain links. Using her toes, she gently pushed herself back and forth, enjoying the sensation of swaying. Realizing that Haneul was not going to return from the tower, Baro ducked down into the slide and slid down, stopping at the bottom to simply gaze at her.

“You went and talked to someone today,” he remarked.

“What of it? Going to try and talk me out of it so you can get your hands on my soul?” she asked coyly. She was surprised at the seriousness in his expression when he shook his head.

“No.” Baro sighed and stood up, sticking his hands in his pockets and pacing across the playground. He kicked up the sand with his feet, mulling over what he was going to say next. “I know that’s what I came here to do, but everything’s different now. I don’t want your soul anymore.”

“Then… Why are you sticking around? Won’t Jinyoung get mad when he finds out?” she asked, her gaze following him as he crossed the sand to sit in the wing next to her. He stared at the play structure, his hands clasped between his legs.

“Yeah, probably. I don’t care though. As for why I stick around, well… You’re amusing,” he grinned, shoving her slightly in the shoulder. Haneul cried out in opposition, shoving him back. Baro laughed and gave up the assault, tipping his head back slightly.

“Well… As long as you keep your paws off my soul, I suppose it’s not too bad having you around,” she smiled softly at him. Baro smirked slightly at her, and after that they both fell silent, simply staring at the playground until the sun fell below the horizon and the streetlights flickered into life. Haneul checked her phone to find that she had several unopened messages from a worried Sandeul, and that it was nearly seven o’clock in the evening. “I had better get going. Sandeul will scold me good for being out so late, and he might have a heart attack if I keep him waiting much longer,” she laughed as she stood up from the swing.

“That guy is way too attached to you,” he mumbled.

“Jealous?” she teased, and he looked away with a huff.

“No,” he muttered, and Haneul laughed. He cried out when she suddenly reached forward and ruffled his hair affectionately. “Hey! That looks takes a good hour, you know?” he whined, attempting to fix his messy hair.

“See you later, Baro,” she mused as she waved her fingers at him and turned to leave. She felt his eyes on her back as she walked out of the park and down the sidewalk, and even as she crossed town. She didn’t feel unsettled by it, however; she felt at ease, like he was watching over her- like a guardian. My guardian demon, she thought in amusement. Fancy that. As she walked up the driveway to Sandeul’s home, she felt the counselor’s words echo in her mind.

“You just have to find something good, Haneul. A hobby, a place, a person- it can be anything.” A black form passed over the stars, and she smiled slightly. Perhaps she was closer to finding her “something good” than she had originally thought.