Her hands stay motionlessly on her lap as she leans against the raised bed while staring out of the window expressionlessly. She recognises the window, she thinks. Her eyelids don't batter when the nurse informs her and her mother about the new schedules for her chemotherapy now that she's admitted. 

Remission? Recurrence? The words fly in her head despite the absence of thoughts in her head, probably the only details that did enter her mind when the doctor was speaking.

Why does she have to be here again?  The pain inside of being alone, and the pain outside of being weak, she is not ready to face them again. She will never be, she grimaces without taking her eyes off the treetops that are visible from the window.

She only starts to think when everyone leaves the room to bring her peace and tranquillity. She listens as the silence sing a sad song and lets her eyes travel around the ward to find everything as it was eleven years ago. The bed on the other side is still empty with the sheets neatly folded. 

Soullessly her eyelids tremble when she turns her head back to face her front. She gradually closes her eyes and suddenly she seems to hear a bell ring. 

"Unnie," she hears a distant voice of a child, eleven years away.

Alerted, she shoots up from the bed and her eyes open in an instant. Who was that? Why did she hear that? She pants in astonishment. How is she so sure that it was from eleven years ago?

"Yuna," she sinks back into the bed when she sees her mother walking into the room. "How are you feeling?"

"How should I be feeling?" Yuna plainly answers without looking at her mother.

She hears her mother sigh. "Yuna-yah," from the corner of an eye, Yuna sees her mother shaking her head. 

Yuna turns away and faces the window again. She hears her mother placing something on the table beside her bed. She turns and sees her mother placing a photo frame on the table with her middle school graduation shot in it. 

"Why are you putting that here?" Yuna shrieks immediately, grimacing as there is finally emotion on her face. With her fierce brown orbs she glares at the photo. Her long black locks and her lips gently smiling in the photo angers her and her vision gradually blurs with the tears welling up in her eyes. Without any hesitation, she roughly pushes it off the table and lets the frame shatter on the ground. 

"Yuna-yah!" her mother exclaims, "What are you doing?" 

Yuna ignores her mother anyway. She lies back down on the bed and turns to face the window once again. Closing her eyes, she squeezes out the tears that were collecting and stays silent.

She feels a soft hand on her shoulder. Yet, she shudders, avoiding the contact. She pays no attention to the calls of her name and covers her ears to block to sound away while she cries even harder.

Blame and hatred overcomes her heart that has been preciously filled with confusion. What is her mother doing? What has her mother been doing?

What is a mother supposed to do? She doesn't know, because all her mother has done to her is leave her alone with people she's supposed to be related to but yet they don't bother to give any care to her, giving her no love but extra loneliness, and only being by her side when she's sick and weak and requires someone to care for her.

She must be thinking that I'm a burden, Yuna thinks, but she can leave for all she wants because I don't want to see her either, Yuna cries even harder as she lets her frustrations out.

Sometime in the midst of the cries, she must have fallen asleep, for when she opens her eyes again it is night time. She is alone in the ward again. She heaves a sigh of relief, figuring that her mother cannot be here, for visiting hours should've been over. 

She turns away from the window and looks down to the ground. Her eyes land on a few glass shards and broken wood pieces on the ground. She finds her picture on the bedside table. Her heart stings when she sees the photo, but she decides to care less.

When she turns back to face the window, she shrieks at the sight of a young child.

"Who are you?" she yells, terrified. "When did you appear here?" Yuna squeezes herself at the opposite corner of the bed, petrified by the sudden presence of an unexpected guest.

"Unnie!" she sees the child grimace as she calls out. Yuna freezes. That is the exact voice she has heard earlier in the day.

It is her, she confidently concludes. Still shocked at the discovery and confused about the existence of this young girl, she stays still at the corner of her bed.

However, her heart softens at the sight of tears forming in the child's eyes.

"Does unnie not remember me?" the child pouts as tears begin to fall.

Yuna starts to panic. "Ah, don't cry, mianhae," she closes the distance between the two of them without hesitation and looks around for some tissue paper. She hands them over to the child, who unfortunately does not react but continues rubbing her eyes and bawling. Yuna sighs and fretfully wipes the tears away on the child's face.

"There, there," she says when the child has stopped, "Don't cry," she gently speaks.

The child sniffles a little, her small fingers gripping tightly onto the rolled-up pieces of tissue paper.

"Unnie has grown really big," is the first comment she gives after the two of them have calmed down.

Yuna unexpectedly is not surprised by her words, but is instead affirmed that they have ever met, twelve years ago when she was admitted for the same reason: leukemia.

Yuna tries to recall any memories of her childhood in the hospital. She was five, two years before she was supposed to be enrolled into elementary school. Fortunately, within a year, just a week before turning six in October, she was fully recovered and could start school as ordinary children could the following year.

The more she looks at the child, the more she thinks she can picture her in her memory. In her memory, she was always tiny, tinier than Yuna even when Yuna was just five. Somehow she links that to the fact that the kid calls her unnie.

But Yuna's recollections are incomplete and unclear; why is she still a child, even after all these years? Why could Yuna only meet her in the hospital? Who is she? Yuna doesn't remember- Yuna doesn't even know if she had discovered anything eleven years ago the first time she was here.

Nevertheless, this time, she wants to find out.

Notwithstanding the mystery, Yuna feels a gush of warmth enter her heart at the sight of the child now that familiarity enters her mind. Something tells her that she has missed this child, but this time, things will be different now that she is all grown up. Despite that, Yuna feels happy to be reunited with her once again.