"Appa."

Sarang stood at the doorway, looking at her father with a faint smile on her face. It was mere months now that she had left this house but it already felt like forever. Her father turned around, surprise in his eyes as he ran to hug his daughter. Sarang sighed, happily wrapping her arms around her father, biting her lips to keep herself from tearing up.

"Oh, I haven't seen you in so long," his father patted her back. Pulling away, his grin enlarged, "We were talking about you just last night."

"I missed you," she said, pressing her head to his chest. Her father chuckled, pressing a kiss on her temple. "I'm sorry I couldn't visit during Christmas. I hope you spent it well, Appa."

Her father sighed, "Oh look at you. You've grown up so much." Sarang basked in the warmth of her father's hand on her face. A smile lit up her features. Was he proud that she had finally grown up? No more running around the house, climbing trees and playing with children half her age, she thought. In these few months, she had aged many years. Was that good?

Sarang reached her room, looking behind and arching her brows when she couldn't find Sehun. But then he walked into her room, appearing so sullen, she thought he was sick. Not minding him much, she started arranging her clothes in her old wardrobe. "What's wrong?"

Sehun hummed, taking a seat on her bed. His eyes stayed trained on the floor, fingers laced together, making him appear deep in thoughts. She turned to him, leaning against her wardrobe. "Sehun?"

He shook his head, but Sarang wasn't going to buy that. "You want to go back?" She asked, "Maybe you don't like it here."

"No, nothing like that," he finally spoke. Then he steadily looked up to find her gaze, patting the space beside him for her to sit. "This place just screams Jaewook," he confessed. "It makes me feel bad. You understand, right?"

Sarang looked down on her lap, nodding. That's all she could do. She didn't have any comforting words for her husband. If anyone she was the one who needed the comfort the most. But what when both of them were equally affected by what happened? It was worse for her because she wouldn't have ever been able to choose between her best friend and her husband. "Then...we should leave."

He shook his head, "You haven't met them in a while. We should stay. They're your family." Sarang looked up. Sehun nodded at her question filled eyes. "I shouldn't have done that, huh? I should have stayed." Her eyes searched his as his voice cracked. "I shouldn't have listened to him."

"Sehun," Sarang cupped his cheeks, making him look at her. His eyes sparkled. But what could she say? She didn't know herself what he should have done. Moreover, the guilt that everything had happened because of her was stronger than everything. It was her fault. What were they doing to Jaewook? Her best friend, whom she had planned a future with, stored mittens for their kids, ran around the whole village and laughed so happily with. Where was he actually, she thought in quiet moments.

"Tell me," he whispered, "I did wrong. Jaewook doesn't deserve this."

"No," she shook her head, bringing him to her arms. "Look, what happened...had to happen. The best we can do is...let it go." Sarang patted his back, "Don't feel sad anymore. Maybe he's fine. Jaewook's clever. He might have found a way out."

Sehun didn't speak. And it troubled Sarang because he was still thinking about Jaewook. Living with this heavy guilt must be unsettling. But did they have anything to do about it? Sarang thought it was to keep her request that he had taken this chance. Only if Sehun knew that she was guilty too. It wasn't only him. Both of them owed to Jaewook a big time.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. Sarang sighed, grasping more onto his shoulder. He had apologized over hundred times already but still, Sarang couldn't say 'it's okay'. Because perhaps it wasn't. She was so confused. If he hadn't listened to Jaewook, she would still have her best friend by her side. But she wanted him too. What she was supposed to say to his apology, she wished she knew.

"Here."

Sarang looked down at the metal box, still in the blue color she had left it in. Sehun brushed the mud away with his hand, making it jiggle on the uneven land behind the school. Sarang sighed, tracing the design of the lid. She remembered they had found the box near the bank of the river. For hours they had thought how to return it, Jaewook and her. And when they couldn't come up with an idea, Jaewook decided to just keep it.

Storing their mittens was not part of the plan. Sarang bit her lower lip, face contorting as she kept herself from breaking down again. Sehun sat back, patting her shoulder as he pushed the box towards her. "Open it," he said, leaning down to look at her face.

Sarang's hand trembled, she put the lock in the key, turned it to open the lock. "Sehun, let's just keep it back," she turned to him, the key dropping on the ground. She didn't want him to feel guiltier. If he saw her crying over Jaewook's memories, he'd surely feel sad. She wasn't willing to add on to the heaviness of his heart.

"No, it's fine," he spoke in a soft voice, "I know you want to open it."

Sarang sighed. Opening the tin box, she faintly smiled at the objects. Her childhood was a strong memory that she'd never be able to erase no matter how hard she tried. The one who made her childhood so remarkable was Jaewook. His toy car, her clay dolls, the torn page of a text book with an apple drawn in it. And a bunch of mittens. Sarang took one out of the box, a blue one that had belonged to her. Her baby hands were nothing compared to what her hands were now. It brought a subtle smile to her face, a sad smile.

Picking a pink one, slightly bigger in size, Sarang looked back at Sehun. "Jaewook used to have everything pink. Shoes, socks, mittens, sweaters," she said. Sehun smiled, it didn't reach his eyes Sarang noticed. She looked back, "He used to be a scaredy cat. I never imagined he'd be in the military someday."

"Let's take it home," He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "It's not safe here. Is it?"

"Should we?" Sarang sighed, touching the toy car that Jaewook had kept for his future son. As children, they had always known they'd get married. Back then, when they didn't have a single worry about future; those times when they thought their future was laid out before them, all set and ready. Sarang didn't have a clue how it became so unpredictable all of a sudden.

Sehun hummed, his eyes on the clay dolls. "Are these yours?" He touched one, the one smiling up at him.

"Hmm. Appa made them for me. He used to be good at these," Sarang looked at the doll in his hand. "I kept them inside the box when Oppa brought a stuffed doll from the city. I thought I should store them away for my daughter," she chuckled. Sehun nodded, understanding. "I could still put these to use," she looked back at him. He arched his brows, not getting her. "My daughter can still play with these."

"Oh," he nodded, "Right."

It was nice to see him smile. Sarang pressed her lips together, a faint blush taking over her features. "What's this for?" He asked, picking up the piece of newspaper.

"Oh, I don't...remember," Sarang frowned. "This was probably the first newspaper we had seen and we were so thrilled." She smiled. Sehun nodded, still rubbing her arm. He watched the smile fade from her lips. "We thought it would be so easy. We'd get married. Have kids. Live happily ever after. He'd work in the farm, I'd work in the house, feed the cows and raise the children," her lips trembled. Sehun didn't feel any better. Knowing that Sarang wasn't planning to have him in her future but someone else who really loved her.

"And then at