If I were to have a partner again—which is very unlikely—I'd make sure my partner is someone who will obey my every word, don’t talk much, don’t wear skirts, and dislike the color pink. Or purple.

I slam the door close as soon as I see who disturbed me on eight in the morning. Behind that door is my so-called partner, dressed in soft pink jumper and white skirt that falls just above her knees. I thought she's a new neighbor or something at first. Why, because I usually spot her from the dull, long, black hair that she often adorn with clips and bandana, but the girl who just greeted me has dark, purple hair—same length but purple. And if I saw correctly, she curled her hair.

The jazzy outfit and fancy hair force me to lock the door.

“Hey! Open up! Hey!” She knocks over and over again. “Open or I’ll scream!”

It's my house and she's going to scream? Oh, nuts. I groan in frustration you can't ever imagine but proceed to open the door. My eyes sleep-ridden and my mind isn't awake, yet. “What do you want?” I ask, and before she can answer, I add, “And why the hell is your hair purple?”

Sora takes a handful of her hair and points it at me. “You don’t like it? I dyed it myself. I thought it looks okay.” She lets the hair falls and peeks inside my room. “Are you not going to invite me in?”

"No," I say.

"Come on, I've come a long way here!"

"Didn't you hear how I made myself clear that I don't want to be disturbed today?"

She purses her lips, her shoulders slump. "Well, I just come as a friend, not for work," she argues.

The thought that she is in the friend category makes me shiver, but I don't correct her. I have one friend: the Death itself. This situation makes me think that maybe I have a thing for extremes, like having friends of opposite ends: Sora the Bright and Death the ... Death.

My lack of response urges Sora to speak some more, "Come on, I'll make breakfast, too. I'm hungry."

I squint my eyes. "Are you just here so you can eat my food?"

"I'll make something for you as well!"

Fair bargain. I let her in.

“Make yourself at home because I’m,” I plop down onto my bed, “going back to sleep.” My cheek lands flat on the pillow. Within seconds, I drift off to dreamland.

There are many ways for me to wake up. One, I set an alarm with the worst music anyone could hear--usually happens when I sleep before a job. Two, I just wake up on my own—a better way, but not recommended when a job is at stake. Three, a girl comes to my room at the crack of dawn with newly dyed hair—so far, the worst way. Four, I wake up to the smell of scrambled eggs and milk. Definitely fresh milk.

My eyes flutter open at the smell. Good stuff. My stomach grumbles, like it's going to grow arms just to snatch the thing. My vision is still blurry from the sleep that I can only make out faint yellows and oranges and blurred purple. I rub the sleep off of me.

“Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead,” a voice chirps, an all too familiar voice.

“You cooked,” I point out, now looking at the purple-head girl. She's holding a plate of scrambled eggs and sausages, a bowl of rice, and a glass of milk. The first thing that pop in my head is, where on earth did she get those? I'm certain that I only hae some packages of ramyun somewhere in the cabinet. No eggs, no milk, and definitely no sausages. I glace at the ktichen counter--a plastic bag sits there, along with a big carton milk. "You went for groceries?"

“Well, I bought the eggs and everything, might have taken some of your money …” Sora trails off. Before I can scold her, she quickly adds, “I swear I didn’t use anything for me! I only bought couple of things for you!”

I raise a brow. That plastic bag full of god-knows-what doesn't look like 'just a couple of things'. And that milk. I don't even drink milk.

“You don’t have food," she states.

I sat up. I run a hand through my hair, messing it up, and also push some strands away from my face. I take the plate and glass, setting the plate on my lap and the glass beside my bed. I pick up the chopstick and begin to savor the meal. Yum. “I have my noodles.”

“Yes, loads of ramyun, I saw them," she says. “You’re going to die soon if you continue to consume it every day.” Then she pauses. “Didn’t you get money from these hunting? I thought you’d be loaded. Eat healthier with your money.”

I snort. So, what if I'm loaded? I don't have to buy a mansion uphill, or eat breakfast at fancy restaurants, or anything. I like my noodles just fine. And I have to save as well--for purely childish reason (I know) that is to show my father of my wealth some day. I also know it's not going to happen soon. “Well, I’m sharing it with you now,” I say.

“Doesn’t mean you suddenly become poor.”

I put down the half-eaten food. “Look, money isn’t everything, okay?” I know hypocritical, but it really isn't if you take my father out of the variables. "Here," I shove the plate to Sora.

She shakes her head, distancing away. “No, I made it for you.”

“You said you're hungry before.”

“I got an ice cream on my way back.”

I give her a pointed look. To put it into words: Eat this, or else.

She pushes the plate away, nonetheless. “I said no.”

“It tastes like . I just want you to try.”

Sora her head. Her brows joining at the center as she glares at me. “My food do not taste like . In fact, my landlady has complimented my cooking countless time.” She takes the chopstick and eats a mouthful. As she muches, she raises her brow, looking up. “It tastes just fine, if not wonderful. For eggs and sausages, that is.”

Good. I nod. “I know. Now you can finish it.” I fish for the milk.

“You tricked me!” She says in disbelief. She shoves the plate right back at me. “Finish it, then we’ll get going.”

My mind kind of 'ding'ed at the word. "'We’ll get going’? I’m taking a day off, remember?” I ask. Of course, with this amount of kindness she presents, there must be a shady business going on. “Whatever it is, I'm not going anywhere with you.”

"I cooked you breakfast!"

"I know you have ulterior motive!" I fake-gasped. "Where are we even going?"

Sora shrugs, but a wide smile formed on her face after hearing my slight interest. “Don’t know, just around? We don’t have to chase ghosts whatsoever. Somewhere fun?”

“Can’t you see I’m having the time of my life here, in my bedroom?”

Her shoulder slumps. “You mean, being lazy, unmoving guy who eats ramyun?”

“Don’t insult my noodles!”

She rolls her eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be at school, anyway? It’s Thursday.” The more I spend time with her the more certain I am that Sora is going to be kicked out of her school very soon if she continues to ditch. Or worse, maybe she was kicked out. “Are you expelled?” I ask in a low voice, squinting.

“No,” she shakes her head and straightens her back, “of course not. I’m just really concern about your dull day off that I decided to color it a bit.”

“I don’t need coloring, Oh Sora. I like this life just fine.”

“You’re telling yourself that, but deep inside, I know you want to have a colorful life. To laugh, love, and live. You yearn for it but you’re so stubborn to admit it."

There is about five seconds of dead silence where I just stare at Sora's chestnut orbs in a complete meaningless way. I see glimmers of hope on her eyes. She really thinks her words can get me. I nod and clap. “Truly inspiring. But no, your assumption is wrong.”

Sora lets out an exasperated sigh. “I thought you’d agree!”

“No.” I say as I finish my meal. I gulp down the glass of milk then stands up, chuck the plate and glass into the sink. Then I just stand there. “I’m not some broken-souled man searching for light in the dark. And you’re not going to be the girl from dramas who repairs me,” I say. I turn around to face her, “I prefer winter to summer. I prefer minor songs to major. I prefer to stay home than experience the life outside. Plain and simple. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to—”

The girl already throws a hoodie at me.

“What? Didn’t you listen—”

“We’re not hunting partners today. You are not my boss.” Sora puts her hands on her hip and smiles rather sinisterly. “Now change and we’ll get ice creams. My treat.”

Fifteen minutes later, we're at the ice cream parlor.

“Tell me again why are we walking when there’s a perfectly working car we can use.” I cross my arms, watching Sora walks back to where I wait (leaning against the streetlight pole, totally cool-looking) with ice creams in both hands. She hands out the strawberry one and eats the plain one for herself.

“The carnival is not far. I saw it on the way to your house.”

Goodness, no, I groan—anything but a silly carnival. “We’ve been walking for fifteen minutes.”

Sora grabs the end of my sleeve, pulling me to follow her. “Please, just around the corner.” When I don't budge, she pulls again. “I've never been to a carnival. Please?”

First she disturbed my sleep. Now a fair. I must be a bloody saint to get through the day with her.

We continue to walk until we find the so-called carnival. It's nothing much. Just some people in stupid booths with fancy words like ‘spin the wheel’ and stuff. There's also that high striker game, which got boys lining up, trying to show their muscles to their unfortunate girlfriends. Dart games, the doll picking games, and some rides that I'm sure isn't safe in anyway.

Despite my skeptism with the ride mechanics, we still got on the rides. I even win her a penguin doll from the dart game. Basically, Sora just order me around to do stuff, threatening with an ‘or else …’ and frankly, I don't want to deal with a purple-haired girl whining in the midst of carnival crowd.

I feel someone yanked my arm to the opposite direction I'm heading. Woo-hoo, guess who? I let out an exasperated sigh. I set a reminder to fire the girl as soon as we're back from this place.

“Look! Fortune teller!”

I look up to the booth in front of us. It has a maroon curtain on its entrance. On top of the stand is ‘Gypsychic’ in cursive font and below it is a short notice: Experience the mind-blowing fortune reading inside, only $5 for three questions!

“I’m not spending a cent on this crap.” I spin around, but Sora catches my sleeve just as fast. I glare. “Let go, I’m not going to deal with some hocus pocus madame!”

“It would be fun, I promise.”

“You promised the same thing when we got on that stupid hammer game!”

Sora rolls her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. “It’s not my fault that you’re not strong enough, Mister Hunter.”

“You know just well I’m a lot stronger than I look.”

“We can argue about that all day if you’d like.”

“I’m done.”

I'm about to leave again when a frail, dark-skinned figure peeks her head out from behind the maroon curtain. She's looks like she's in her late thirties. Her outfit looks just like the ones in the movies: complete with the turban, overlarge earrings, and ridiculous long skirt.

“Did you guys come to see me?” she asks in a singsong voice as she comes out of the booth. Her smile is so wide that it might literally reaches her eyes. The red lipstick exaggerates the whole fortune teller rubbish she's pulling.

“Yes!”

“No.”

The gypsy laughs. She covers  in a somewhat ladylike manner. “Oh, silly young man. Of course you want to see me. Come in, come in.” She ushers them to come. Sora eagerly goes inside the hut-looking booth first. I cross my arms and wait outside. I'll just let the purple girl ask whatever it was she wants to ask and wait.

The gypsy comes out again. “Come in. I can’t do consultation alone.”

“You have—” The woman already pulls him inside the hut, where there's a round table and Sora is sitting on one of the four stools.

Gypsy makes me sit a seat away from Sora. She goes to her own seat and leans forward. “So, what do you want to ask?” She asks, her eyes glued on me, much to my discomfort.

“I don’t want to ask anything. This girl, however—”

Despite Sora looking like a puppy begging for its owner’s attention, the gypsy brushes her off—and not to mention, interrupts me again. “I see something in you, young man. I see a lot of thing. Pain … suffering … darkness … it’s all so exciting. I’ve never seen someone quite like you before.”

She continues to lean forward that I back away so far I almost fall off the stool.

The gypsy took my hand. “Killing … you’ve killed, haven’t you?” she closes her eyes, shaking her head. “No, no, no. Not killing … something to do with death … the Death? And family, ooh, yes, family …”

I yank my hand away as harsh as I can and step down from the stool. “Look, nutty, you can go fool other chaps but not me.” I, then, take Sora by the wrist and storm out of the booth.

I finally let go of her hand once we're about a mile away from the carnival. Dammit. We still have to walk all the way back to my flat.

“Wow,” Sora breaks the silence. “That lady sure has hots on you she won’t even notice me.”

I ignore her, and after a while walked ahead of her. I really am not in the mood to talk. I can hear the rapid sound of her small steps behind.

“Look, I’m sorry. I thought it would be fun. I’ve never been to a gypsy before. I don't know—”

"Let's just go."

Author's Note:

N E W   C O V E R !
What do you think?

Have you seen EXO Arcade ep. 2?
I T ' S   H I L A R I O U S

Especially Jongin. He literally got everything wrong, lol.