“Greetings,” Sungyeol purled lowly, eyeing each individual with a predator’s eye. His lips tugged into a smirk of malice, filled with ill intentions unimaginable to a benevolent person’s mind.   “Brother,” Sungjong’s voice wavered, his confidence cascaded by the oppressor's appearance. His shrieking tone alerted the others of an uninvited intruder. It was not a heed warning, it was a plea for help.   “Mr. Lee, pleasant meeting you here.” Woohyun immediately moved forward, his hands furtively signaling for the two women to take shelter.   Normally, the fierce Jineul would’ve fought her way through odious remarks, but under Hyunmi’s guidance, she was forced to indulge in proper behavior.   “What business do you seek here?” Sungyeol asked, resting his sight on Woohyun. The man’s expression was numbed of guilt and fear, frivolous as ever. Despicable.   “I was taking a stroll with my new acquaintances,” Woohyun continued, throwing an arm around Daeyeol’s shoulder, performing for a singular audience. He had to appear close to his fellow residents. “Some has never set foot in this region of town. Can you believe it?”   “But why should this lousy ratbag trot together in your gaily occasion? He is a nuisance to your path and deserves to be locked at home,” Sungyeol spoke, eyes darting to his own brother.   Jineul slightly giggled, possessing a distorted sense of delirium through the slander of the male species. One could hardly imagine what sorts of foul treatment she had received to form such apathy towards men.   The noise caught Sungyeol’s attention, wondering why a female dressed herself in a male’s attire. He did not bother himself with their matters.   Hyunmi failed to read his expression, putting her focus on unfair treatments. Her cynicism proved to be too optimistic. Disparity wasn’t a plague among the rich and poor, or the male and female—the problem persisted among brotherhood and family members akin. It was absurd; she could never imagine herself addressing Dongwoo with such disrespect.   “He is your brother of one flesh and blood. How could you speak to him in such degrading manners?” She chided with a disdainful attitude. She marched forward, feeling the faint brush of Woohyun’s fingers attempting to pull her into complacency. Her logic was aware of the consequences following her protest, but her heart had already chosen its allegiance.   Sungyeol’s expression remained firm and hollow. Taking slow steps forward, he entrapped her small frame within his shadow of intimidation. A barter of expostulation took place between their fiery gazes.   “You speak such foul words for one who does not know the subject at hand,” he whispered, never breaking his cutthroat sight from her.   “Perhaps you should enlighten me and broaden my understanding,” she challenged.   “Know your place, vile woman. You are not entitled to challenge me; the fact you are robbing me of my precious time is a horrendous crime,” Sungyeol spoke, the wickedness crossing across his feature. He mashed her chin between the grip of his fingers, tilting her face toward his own. “Although, if you wish to talk, I may consider employing you as my personal servant. I may have several desires in need of fulfillment.”   This time it was not Hyunmi who responded with a reformed counter argument, but Woohyun who swiftly slapped the other’s hand away, releasing Sungyeol’s clench from Hyunmi’s chin.   “Careful now. I do not appreciate you tainting her bonny face. If you are throbbing with thirst, you may quench them at a brothel. It is for that reason you have visited this area, is it not?” Woohyun questioned, a threat hidden behind his feigned surprise, as effervescent as it was minatory. It was a lethal weapon against Sungyeol’s petty remarks.   The tall man narrowed his eyes, unaffected by Woohyun’s words. “You do realize I stand witness to your impolent behavior. Such account shall be reported towards Kim Sunggyu.”   “I am merely defending a woman dear to me. Is it a treason?”   Hyunmi pondered upon his words, her heart pounding at every reiteration echoing in her head. Nay. How could she possibly be dear to him? It must’ve been empty words once more. He was a skilled gal sneaker.   “You heed me of a warning, but I doubt becoming its recipient. You seem to be at a greater risk than I am, which shan’t matter,” Sungyeol spoke. He leaned closer toward the male, lowering his voice to a secret rendezvous. “Should you fail, as we have accounted for, we have prepared an alternative solution.”   Sungyeol inched away, removing his despicable presence from the one he used to call his partner. He stared at the rest, his gaze resting longer on a trembling Daeyeol and a feisty Jineul who positioned herself in a fighting stance. Foolish peasants. He never bade them an adieu, leaving as stealthily as he had appeared.   Now that the threat departed, their attention returned to Sungjong. He had been exceptionally quiet, basked in fear for failing his brother. The longing for Sungyeol's affection seemed a notion impossible to attain. Worst of all, he had no clue which of his transgression triggered such strong apathy.   “Mr. Sungjong—”   “Do not speak to me!” The young man raised his voice at Hyunmi, glaring viciously at her who tried to provide comfort. Her face grew blanch at his rejection, but he had no room to store regret. “You may have worsened everything. I never should’ve allowed your manipulation to misguide me.”   “That is no way to speak to mother. Retract your words right this instant!” Daeyeol grew defensive, his fears forgotten when he began defending those he cared for. He did not realize Jineul’s questioning look at the word ‘mother.’   Sungjong reserved no sympathy for the likes of them, having wasted precious seconds on lower ranked pariahs. The manner with which Woohyun coped with them was impressive and foolish at the same time—it was no accomplishment to take pride in. The rich should mingle with the rich, and the poor lament together with the poor. Woohyun broke the rules of common society, and was therefore, no longer deserving of any respect.   He left following the example of his brother; as heartless as a ferocious stranger, as quiet as a stealthy thief, as mean spirited as a condemning judge.   ***   It seemed mayhem had a skill to tangle itself within the threads of chaos. It could plummet people to failure or elevate them to success. The outcome was solely determined by one’s response towards the situation.   None expected to be reconvened with unexpected matters at the orphanage upon their return. They wished to hear shouts of triumph, not cries of pitiful woes and loud sobs between incomprehensible mumblings. Without delay, they rushed into the house to minister the situation.   It was Dongwoo.   The man was writhing in pain, rolling on the floor, lolling his head back and front in consternation. He mumbled gibberish words, then modified them into painful cries, and volleyed them back to mumbles. His body trembled like a critter animal forced to face a lion.   “They’re coming… They’re coming…”   An episode resurfaced, trapping him in the traumatic memory of that dreadful night. The human brain could be cruel, sending constant reminders of events one wished to forget. Dongwoo heard the stormy march in his head, the stomping boots against wooden planks, the flicker of fire lighting the dark, the faces of demons invading their hideout, the retrieval of blades. He remembered it all—the light that burdened him and rescued him.   “Brother!” Hyunmi yelled, falling on the floor beside him, not caring for the hook that ripped the side of her skirt, improperly displaying a woman’s skin. Her focus was on a greater matter. “What happened?”   “He searched the entire house for you. Realizing you were nowhere to be found, I suppose he assumed you had been taken. He started screaming then,” Jangjun said, being the one who kept constant watch of Dongwoo.   “He fell to the ground and behaved like this. Only you can help him, mother,” Donghyun spoke. His usual chipper face showed an agonized expression of worries he should not be experiencing at a young age.   Whispers of condemnation placed blame upon herself. Hyunmi had only departed for several hours, not expecting her absence to welcome a life threatening danger. By trying to help another, she destroyed the one who needed her protection the most.   “Brother,” she spoke, hushing her voice to a soft lullaby, exerting great willpower to conceal her worries and suppress her tears. She held his palm steady in her grip. “I am here. They are gone.”   The speech was familiar as Woohyun had come to observe. He had been there at the marketplace during their first encounter, watching from a faroff distance as Hyunmi calmed her brother in a similar manner. Today he watched from upclose, all plans and acts forgotten, genuinely wishing for the elder to return to his usual frolic demeanor.   “There is the light, see?” Hyunmi spoke, snatching a breath to hide her trembling resonance. She allowed Dongwoo to squeeze her hand to the point her skin turned white from pressure. She withheld the pain and continued the endurance with a sister’s concern. “All is well, dear brother.”   Dongwoo’s cries began to dim, his frantic movements coming to freeze midair. The grip around her hand loosened, and he sat upright using Jangjun’s assistance.   “Hyunmi,” he lulled, finding her among the many faces. His fingers reached out to her face, tracing every single feature like a blind man. He knew the contours of her serene complexion, and the harsh lines of her worries. It was the latter. He had worried her. His lips elicited a small gasp of realization. “Hyunmi!”   “Forgive me brother, I never should have left,” Hyunmi spoke, hugging her brother. Her lips quivered against the valor she tried to fool Dongwoo with.   Woohyun was treated to an intimate sight he would not have witnessed as a stranger. Yet, there was something amiss; like watching a euphoric scenery painted across a black canvas. Worries burried itself beneath the relief.   “Excuse me, Mr. Nam, but a letter addressed to you arrived in the mail this morning. You had already left by the time I wanted to hand it to you,” Rika delivered a cream colored envelope, scented with a strong flowery fragrance. He immediately knew whom it was from. Of course, Mrs. Kim Seulyi’s invitation followed him even here.   “Also, there is a newcomer among us,” Rika continued, the first to take note of Jineul’s presence. The poor girl watched the scene evolve with confusion.   Youngtaek rashly moved to her, his eyes menacing. “Are you a friend or foe?”   “How rude,” Sungyoon commented about the rash behavior.   “He has always been rude,” Jangjun teased with a grin.   “Of course,” Joochan agreed, picking up his guitar to play a sonnet. “It is in the same manner you have always been in love with—”   “Hush! Be quiet!” Jangjun told his friend, sealing his speech using his hand. Luckily, Rika’s curiosity was fully occupied by the new girl.   Jineul stared weirdly, wondering whether she could get along with these fools. She turned to Youngtaek who awaited a response. “To you, I am a foe. To her,” she pointed at Rika, “I am a friend.”   “How dare you? What fault have I trespassed against you?” Youngtaek shouted, unable to accept this instant rejection. Jangjun and Sungyoon immediately held him by the arm, preventing another commotion from happening.