Sitting by the backyard, Nabi’s silence is interrupted as she hears giggles and high-pitched squeals. She tilts her head to the side and sees three young girls, including her younger half-sister, running through the spacious and green lawn, holding a bottle of bubbles and dolls.

She sighs and jumps to her feet, removing her headphones and places it around her neck. She takes her pen and notebook, not really in the mood of dealing with anyone at the moment. Though, that really is isn’t something new for the past years now, especially when her mother built a new family— a new family she feels she doesn’t belong in anymore.

“Sister! Sister, look!” Her younger sister, Jini, calls, showing her one of the dolls proudly.

Nabi gives the little girl a tight smile, not saying a word. Then, upon looking up, taking a step forward, she sees her mother standing by the verandah. She knows she’s observing them.

She won’t deny that she rather feels distant towards Jini. She’s her little sister. She’s so young and innocent, oblivious to the relationship she shares with their mother. But so far, in so many years now, Nabi has been having a difficult time expressing herself.

She cares for her half-sister. She’d be lying if there is no hint of love at all for her. She’s still her sister after all. But, she’s just unsure how to express that.

Every time she sees Jini, she sees the combining features of her mother and step-father and through that, she is constantly reminded at how this new family her mother has, she, in no way, has a part of.

As a reaction to her mother’s actions, she looks away and remains stoic. She continues to stride her way inside, like nothing has happened.

“For how long are you going to keep this up, Nabi?” She hears her mother, Heenam, ask in such a reproachful tone. Giving the oldest daughter a sign at how her mother is tired of her.

She stops in her tracks and looks at the other lady blanky and coldly. She doesn’t say anything, having actually no intentions of answering the question her mother just gave.

“Jini does not deserve your cold shoulder. She has nothing to do with your problem with me.” Heenam points, clearly frustrated and slowly losing her patience.

Nabi’s jaw ticks. Daringly, she gives her mother a sharp look— as sharp as a daughter’s glare can ever get. “Problem with you?” She repeats. Then, she does that again but inside her head this time and the more she does so, the more it becomes apparent to her that her mother don’t see this broken relationship as problem between them but a problem she has for her.

Not knowing what to say more to that, she calmly corrects Heenam’s misconceptions. “I have never once gave Jini a cold shoulder.” At least, Nabi is proud to conclude that she hasn’t treated her half-sister like how the lady in front of her had with her. She’s a bit warmer and affectionate towards with her sister. It’s nothing big, nothing worth noticing but it’s as much as she can give at this point. It’s a work in progress and she knows things like this don’t come in a snap, even after three years she was born.

But a different note seems to lie between her and Heenam. It’s not a work in progress. It’s done. In other words, she sees their relationship as a hopeless case. That at this point of time, the only thing that links them now is their blood. That’s it. Nothing else goes beyond it.

“It’s not my fault that you think of me so low like that.” She mutters in an expressionless tone.

“Nabi.” Her mother calls as a warning, foreseeing how this conversation is going to end.

“Look, please don’t compare the relationship we both have to what Jini and I have. It’s different. It might be something even you won’t understand.” She indicates, not having much hopes that her mother would understand. Not because Nabi thinks her mother knows less, but because she thinks that when it comes to her, Heenam won’t ever understand.

For the past years, both have failed to rekindle their relationship as mother and daughter. It made progress, but only by a little bit. It halted however when Nabi decided to drop out of University on her third, final, and graduating year. Of course, it didn’t impress Heenam— being the perfectionist and critical kind of woman she always has been and it only opened another wound to their relationship to what is already tainted. Because after all, who would want a child who didn’t finish their studies?

“Nabi, sweetheart.” The mother finds herself at the verge of tears, feeling hopeless.

“Mum, can I leave now?” She asks. “The whole lunch thing is done now, isn’t it?”

Heenam sighs. “Where are you going this time?” She returns, not really anticipating a direct answer from her daughter.

“Don’t worry.” She starts and reassures, “I’m not going to do anything illegal.” She may be rebellious, but she isn’t that rebellious yet. She hasn’t gone to that extent. Not yet.

“When will you be back?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “I guess when my presence is needed again?”

Not really knowing what more to say, Heenam bobs her head as a permission. What more can she do anyway? What can she do to stop her now?

With that, Nabi makes her way out of the residence but before she’s completely out of the premises, she is greeted by her step-father, Changho.

With a kind smile, the male ducks his head as an acknowledgement to her presence and as a form of his initial greeting. “Leaving?”

Nabi’s lips are pursed as she nods tightly. “Mum and Jini are the yard. Jini is playing with her friends.”

Appreciative, he says softly, “Okay.” And just before she gets to take a step away, he follows, “Oh and Nabi…”

Patiently, she turns and waits for what is coming.

“Thank you.”

“Sir?” She calls, unsure what are the words of ‘thanks’ are for.

“Thank you for how you’re treating Jini.” He says. “Also, thank you for the respect you’ve been giving to me since your Mum and I have been together. I know it’s not easy.”

A smile tugs the corner of Nabi’s lips albeit small as she’s really not expecting these words from him. She finds a small part of herself mellthing. “You’re welcome, Sir.”

“Be careful, wherever you’re going.” He reminds.

“Okay.” She answers quietly.

Watching Nabi leave in light steps, Changho smiles kindly. For the years that have passed, from where his wife introduced him to her daughter, to them getting married, and having a kid together, she has never disrespected him. Yes, she might’ve been aloof and distant, but he understands. Most of the time she’s cold and closed-off but Changho reckons that this is better than having a stepdaughter who would talk back, down and one who would talk rudely towards him.

Nabi was and still is cold and squared up; usually silent but she was not rude, at least not to him and that is more than enough. And though he is still quite unsure how to approach the issue lying between her and his wife, Changho trusts that one day, things will be okay. That these two ladies will soon be able to reconcile and fix their broken relationship together.

Upon stepping out of the gates, the lady hears a ding from her phone, notifying her that a message came in. She slips her phone out of her pocket and her eyes widen as soon as she reads the message. In panic, she runs to her car and drives off, screeching the wheels against the road.

Parking her car by the kerb side, she sprints off and enters through the door, greeted by a close acquaintance, Baekhyun, whom she saw as worried as her. He’s holding a fully-equipped first aid kit and thick white towel.

“Where is she?” Nabi asks.

“In her room.” The male answers, withdrawn.

Nabi kneels before her friend, Kina, who is sitting on the floor, her back leaning against her bed frame with her arm laid out - wrist facing towards the ceiling.

Kina's countenance is pale, withdrawn, miserable and just full of hopelessness. The former's knees meet the wooden floor, not minding the drops and trails of thin and thick blood that oozed out of her friend's skin as she tried to harm herself once again.

"I'm sorry, Nabi." Kina cries painfully, barely having any energy to continue on.

The lady puts the apology aside for now as she asks her dear friend, obviously concerned. "What happened?"

"I don't want to die." She confesses. "I did it so I can live. So, I can stay."

"Kina." Nabi calls hopelessly and doesn't utter another word as she embraces her friend whose worth is just as much as a blood sister to her.

“I don’t want to go back to the care.” She cries.

“No…” She whispers. “No, you won’t go back there. We’ll be here.” She promises.

A second later, Baekhyun comes in, fully equipped and doesn't say anything. He shares a glance with the lady who just came in as the vulnerable girl continues to sob in the latter's shoulder. Right now, they both know that they are Kina's pillars and they can't be weak for her.

Seeing their precious friend suffer like this is nothing like they had imagined. It was something they never saw coming. But that is the thing. the cruelness of this world does not choose someone in particular, it chooses anyone. And that's a reality all hate. Everyone and anyone can be a victim.

Nabi was fourteen years old then, a year before her father's death when she met Kina. If she was to describe, the girl is a bubbly one. She's an extrovert, so bright, lively and cheery. Basically, she's a sunshine but in human form. Kina was so much of what she's not. She was so strong, a fighter, a head-strong and so optimistic. While Nabi herself, is just that quiet, strongly introvert girl who prefers being alone with herself than being with anyone.

Kina and Nabi were an odd ma