Jisoo felt her eyelids drooping down, a yawn escaping her lips, as the lazy afternoon beckoned her for a nap. She prevented herself from doing so as she recognized the iron-wrought gates of their new neighborhood. It opened as the guard on duty recognized the subdivision sticker on the windshield, giving the man behind the steering wheel an acknowledging bow. Jiwon slowed the car to give one back.

Rows of modest, traditional houses then greeted Jisoo's sight, numerous trees from the sidewalk rushing by as the shadows danced across her face, shielding her from the warm afternoon sunlight.

It must be hot out there, she thought. Moving and carrying things will prove to be difficult, she added. The prospect of her clothes sticking to her skin because of sweat didn't sound enticing in her mind.

Come to think of it, the air ventilation set on three sent chills running on her spine. Now growing uncomfortable, she reached a hand towards the control and rotated the number down to two, the rose-gold ring on her fourth finger briefly glinting as she did so. The smooth hum of the air-conditioner decreased and faded under the upbeat track the radio was currently playing.

The boxes stacked at the back created faint wriggling noises as her husband drove through the asphalt road. After making a right from an intersection, his eyes glowed in anticipation as their new house could be seen from a mile away.

The speed of the car gradually slowed down as they neared the street of their destination. Now in front, he steered it to the right to park, only for the car to jerk upwards from crossing the hump between the street and the house's driveway. A gasp escaped from Jisoo's lips as she quickly grabbed the roof handle for safety.

Sensing her discomfort, Jiwon mumbled a quick, "Sorry," under his breath, biting his lips in concentration as he tried to smoothly maneuver the car. He did after learning from his mistake, the tires at the back passing the hump without much complication. Afterwards, he finally parked.

His soft, "We're here," registered in her ears, the radio and the hum of the engine dying heard after. The woman on the passenger seat let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Clicking of seat belts and slamming of doors soon followed as they both went out of the car. Jiwon proceeded to open the backseat to carry out the boxes. Jisoo, instead of helping him out, walked from the asphalt driveway to the lawn, her ballet flats hitting the damp soil and the freshly mowed grass tickling the exposed part of her feet. Her legs felt like jelly after the long drive from their old apartment so she figured she wanted to stretch a limb or two first.

Her husband, his footsteps light as if not tired from driving an hour and a half, walked along the cobblestone path connected to the driveway, holding a box. As he arrived in front of the doorstep, he propped his leg to give the box a temporary pedestal as he shoved the right key in. The door opened with a creak. Taking a deep breath, he disappeared inside.

From behind, she could hear the heavy rumble of the moving truck and the smooth rev of the Lexus sedan of her brother. She turned around just in time to see them park at the street in front of the house.

Ruckus followed as the people they hired scurried to move things inside from the moving truck; two people on the couch, one carrying dining chairs both sides of his arm. Her brother went along to help the remaining helper with a long rectangular box.

Deciding to be out of their way for a while, she took shade under the only tree planted on the front yard, its leaves softly rustling for a breeze. She thought it would be a hot sunny day, but she was proven wrong. In fact, only cool air passed now and then. Even the heat of the sun wasn't enough to burn her skin like it would do in the city.

The Victorian-styled bungalow seemed picturesque among the other houses. Given the simplicity and the homey feeling it gave off, it stood on its own, as if it was worthy of a glance or two. The front yard, with the grass neatly trimmed, was quite spacious. Evergreen shrubs, lilac bushes, and magnolia flowerbeds outlined it. At the front, two wide windows were placed, the front door located in the middle of them. The gray vinyl siding walls looked repainted since the color looked fresh, not a trace of fading or even a sign of ugly, black waterlines running down, just like on their run-down apartment.

She knew she saw it plenty of times before. Once, during the open house, thrice at the pictures the realtor sent them, and countless of times in her sleep. No matter how many times she convinced herself, she couldn't shake off the feeling of hating a new place to settle in. It may look nice, a completely better upgrade from their old residence, but it still feels... foreign for her.

"How you holdin', sis?" Jaewon asked as his warmth beside her signaled his presence.                                                                                                     

Glancing at her brother for a while, she noticed the forming sweat on his forehead. His blue, buttoned-up shirt was rolled halfway to his arm and his slicked-back hair was slowly disintegrating from its neat form.

"Good," was her response.

"Hey, you wouldn't mind if I say we need your help to move your things inside your house?"

"I wouldn't mind. But I'd probably not obey you either."

"If Jinwoo hyung's not busy with work right now, he'll say the same. The difference is, you'll listen. Even if I'm the rebellious one, doesn't mean you have to ignore what your other brother says."

Rolling her eyes, she retorted, "I'm the family's princess. That's why you're here. You wouldn't want the princess to break bones carrying heavy boxes, would you?"

"Break bones, my . You're married, for goodness' sake. Start acting like a grown-up."

She hummed and put an arm around his waist, leaning her head on his chest as she did so. Naturally, he returned the gesture by enveloping his arm around her shoulder.

"Until the time you're here, I don't want to. I love to be babied by you."

"That's Jinwoo hyung's job." As an afterthought, he added, "You just love being smothered by two adoring brothers, do you?"

"Yup," she replied, popping the p at the end.

His sister could feel his chest reverberate with a heavy sigh, his thumb subconsciously swiping over the fabric of her lilac blouse. As she glanced up, she could see his eyes lose the vibrance it had moments ago. She looked away immediately since she knew why.

"I hate it when you make me hope you returned to who you were before."

Jisoo went out of his embrace and put a safe distance between them. The playful atmosphere turned into a darker one, with Jaewon bringing up an untouched topic. Even her husband didn't speak of it freely.

"Jisoo... please come back to us," he continued, as if he wasn't aware she wasn't comfortable talking about it.

"It's not that easy," she replied, her jaw clenching tight. "You wouldn't understand because you haven't lost someone yet."

Surprise filtered through his eyes, until it came back to the haunting look he gave her before. "I feel like I already did."

Finding it hard to reply to that, she quickly turned away and marched towards the back of Jiwon's white SUV. Maybe it was finally time to help.

She kept her head low to enter the car and drag a box from the pile labeled 'dinnerwares', recognizing the messy handwriting of her husband. Feeling an incredible amount of adrenaline surge through her, she grunted and tried to carry the heavy box all by herself, until her arms failed her and could feel it dragging her weight down. Strong arms caught it on time.

"Are you okay?"

Slowly recovering from the initial shock, she could make out Jiwon's concerned eyes looking at her. He gently took the box from her and put it back on the car. Panting, she nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned at the edge of the SUV.

"Babe... you okay?" he repeated.

She nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah... sure. I'm fine."

He didn't pursue the topic further as he grabbed her head from a single reach of his hand and kissed her hair, letting her soak in his sweaty glory. "Just let us handle this and rest for a while. I'll go back to you later."

His wife watched him carry the box she attempted to carry before and proceeded with his work. It led her sight to drift to her brother, looking at her from a distance. She pursed her lips as she looked at anywhere, just not at the image of his broken smile. From the corner of her eye, she could see him stop looking and continued helping the others to move things out of the truck, as if nothing happened at all.

Weeks later, the unopened boxes Jisoo didn't get around to arrange was finally taken out by her husband.

Jisoo hoped there would be enough reason not to unpack anymore.

Jiwon was a busy man, always out of town because of his hectic work schedules. Imagine the suppressed irritation he felt for the past weeks coming home to boxes, looking the same way it did the first time it came. He never had the guts to tell her off.

When she came home after an afternoon stroll, everything was set in place, looking like a house it intended to be. Familiar ornaments adorned different spots in the house. There was the pink-painted seashell she begged him to buy at their honeymoon at the Maldives, the turquoise glass bowl wedding gift from his mother at the coffee table, and the rose-adorned throw pillow on the couch Jisoo used to practice her embroidering skills.

At the kitchen leaning against the granite countertop was her husband sipping a cup of freshly-brewed coffee. He wore whitewashed jeans and a grey shirt two sizes big for him. It was a stark difference to the business suits he always came home with.

"Hey there, babe. You didn't tell me where you went to," he warmly greeted with a smile reaching up to his eyes. Some days, she wondered if he mastered the art of smiling for it to look natural, too rehearsed for her sight.

"You should've told me first," she stated and crossed her arms.

Her husband shrugged and put the cup beside him, answering as he knew perfectly what she was talking about. "I figured you're adjusting and all so I didn't want to bother you with it." He smiled again. "Don't worry about it; it's my rest day after all."

"Who told you to?" she snapped.

She immediately turned her back to avoid looking at his crestfallen expression. No matter how much she dismissed it, she hated him the most when he was being like that. That only appeared when he was with her.

It was a terrible idea to move in the first place. She should've tried harder to oppose, but everyone had their decisions against her, as if they were the ones who had to move, as if their opinions mattered at all.

Feeling the familiar lump in , she went ahead to go to the bedroom and slam the door shut, engulfing her whole body underneath the covers of the mattress. The ache she tried to bury deep inside felt like being clawed out again.

She didn't want change. She hated every single minute of it. They couldn't understand. Of all people, Jiwon was one of them. He even had the nerve to smile after everything happened. Was it easy for him to move on, like what the others did? It looked like she was the only one suffering.

Her thoughts paused as she felt his familiar arms snake around her waist. For a moment, she wanted to turn around and hug him back, but she didn't.

"Why did we have to move, Jiwon?"

"You know why."

It made her think because honestly, she didn't know why.

It was okay. Living at their old, worn-down apartment was okay. Everything felt okay. That was their home, their only home. So why did they have to move? Were the memories too much for him that he accepted change easily? Or was it that much unimportant for him?

Then it hit her.

"We're too far from her grave, is that why you wanted us to move?"

He didn't say anything as his grip tightened.

"I hate it here. I want to go back, Jiwon. Please, let us go back."

"You know we can't."

"Why?"

"I badly want to move on too."

They slept on the same bed, lived at the same house, but the distance between them grew further day by day.

Jiwon called again, telling her that he needed to travel to a nearby city for work but Jisoo knew better than that.

These past days, the coming home late and the not coming home at all were becoming more frequent, always happening during nonsensical fights she would always cause.

All she ever wanted was everyone to give her more time... more time to heal, more time to forget the pain. But everyone was telling her to 'move on' too much because there was nothing else to do but to move on.

They would say, 'It's okay. It's going to get better from now on. Look on the bright side. There is always a rainbow after a rain.' and all those things. Kind words putting her off more than actually doing her good.

It sounded more like, 'Get your act together and move on. Everyone moved on already. We're tired of having to pick up after your depressing .'

If she discovered how to control her feelings, then maybe she wouldn't have to suffer like this. But then again, could she?

Jisoo leaned against the wooden main door, the intricate designs carved on it felt on her back. The rough bumps made her feel uncomfortable, yet it strangely gave comfort.

At her position, she surveyed the whole house. It was the first time she admired it since Jiwon had the liberty of decorating it himself.

The open-plan of the interior made it easy to take everything at once. From the main entrance, the living room was the first to be noticed. The TV was located behind the window seen at the front yard. Beside the TV was the fireplace, already adorned with numerous picture frames. Their taupe sofa fit for three people stood opposite of the TV, the two identical armchairs facing the fireplace instead.

Jisoo remembered her husband was ecstatic the most when he saw the fireplace at the open house. He loved sitting cross-legged at the sofa in the middle of the night with a mug of hot cocoa in hand, especially during winter nights. Their old apartment's heater always broke down during winter, and it miffed him the most since he easily gets bothered in his sleep.

One particular scene struck a chord. She woke up in the middle of the night, startled to see the space beside her empty. Proceeding to rise out of bed to look for her husband, she saw him on the couch, sipping a mug of hot cocoa with a blanket wrapped around him. She remembered shaking her head at his silliness, only to join him later under the blanket as he wrapped his free hand around her shoulders.

"If we have a fireplace in front of us, this'll be perfect," his rich, distinct deep voice seemed to ooze out of his lips, resounding a lot ier in her ears than intended and even more with his warmth beside hers.

"But this is already perfect," she defended as she leaned her chin on top of his shoulder, her eyes twinkling as she did so.

He smiled and kissed the top of her head. "That'll do."

Jisoo didn't realize she was smiling, until the recollection ended and her cheeks hurt. It was funny how she could remember the little things.

She continued observing the house, noting the wooden coffee table with the turquoise bowl sitting on top of it. The kitchen island was located just behind the couch. From the numerous open houses they went to; this was the only house that had a spacious kitchen, giving room to a kitchen island. It made her recall the time she told her husband she'd love to have one at their dream house someday. She loved cooking and the extra space it provided would make her happy. Maybe he still remembered that too, or maybe it was just coincidence.

The stove was smack in the middle of the granite countertops, the refrigerator just beside the cramped hallway leading to the backdoor. The two bedrooms and the bathroom were located just along the hallway.

The house was big enough for two people, but cramped enough to forget it was supposed to be for three. Without Jiwon around, she felt her loneliness amplifying by the minute. Not that it didn't when he was also here.

The cold glow of the night spilled through the see-through curtains, giving the place enough light without the bulbs . As she passed by the bedroom, she realized that the bed was too spacious for her to sleep in alone.

Making up her mind, she grabbed her pillow and blanket, deciding to sleep at the couch instead. That way, the cramped space wouldn't make her think of filling the void.

As much as she hated living there, there was a spot she grew fond of, made her hate it a little less. A separate lounge area, aside from the one at the living room, was located opposite of the door leading to the backyard. She wouldn't worry about the backdoor since it could only be opened from the inside. A bay window was placed above the couch she would be sleeping at, giving her ample moonlight to feel comfortable. Some days, she would sit there and stare out of the window, or when she feel like it, read a book or two to collapse into a nonexistent world, away from the cruel reality she was in.

She propped the pillow at one of the armrests, tossing the ones the couch came with at the floor. Afterwards, she settled right in and put the blanket over her body. Summer nights were colder than intended.

Silence rang through her ears and she didn't like it one bit. It enabled her to think but thinking was an activity she wanted to avoid.

Nighttime was the cruelest time of the day.

Her mind would jump from one topic to another, thinking about things, thinking about the child she would be cradling in her arms right now, if the soil six feet underground made her body cold, if her body disintegrated to piles of bones already, or wondering if dead children really turn into angels once they reach those heaven gates.

If she was still alive, she'd make her wear numerous, pretty clothes. If she was still alive, she'd know if her smiles felt like sunshine. If she was still alive, she would prance her around like she was the best thing that ever happened in the world and it would be true.

If she – if she—

No. She's gone.

She could think of a million what-ifs but she was still gone.

The shrill ringing of the telephone in the living room made those thoughts stop. When she went out of it, she noticed the tears trailing down her cheeks. With a flick of her wrists, she wiped them away.

She let the phone ring for a few times, trying to compose herself thinking it was Jiwon. Her eyes fleetingly glanced at the wall clock hung on the wall on the right. 2:06am. It was too late for someone to call and too uncharacteristic of Jiwon if it was him.

Shrugging those doubts away, she dragged her feet towards the telephone table. With a long calming breath, she grabbed the receiver and answered the call.

"Hello?"

"..."

Her brows furrowed. "Jiwon?"

"..."

"Are you there?"

It must be bad reception, but the person from the other line wasn't saying anything. She was sure it wasn't Jiwon too. Who in their right mind would call at the dead of the night, without saying anything?

She was going to drop it until she heard someone breathing heavily over the phone, the sound alone sending her hair to rise on its ends.

"You still look beautiful when you cry."

Click.

She stared into space, registering the unfamiliar voice that sounded so shrill in her ears. It seemed to resonate in the distance, as if he was just there, right in front of her.

Who was it?

Before she could think of anyone, a door slammed shut, making her gasp and feel the chill running down her spine.

It was the door leading to the backyard.

-to be continued-

pursue the things that set your soul on fire

MAJOR REVISIONS. Added little scenes and put more details since I live in fear of characters being 2D. Well, I tried everything. I wanted to believe I tried everything.