It’s late in the morning when I finally wake up. I’m on my bed with the same clothes I was wearing the previous night and a pounding headache. I need a cup of tea.

I sat up, clutching my head and found Sora is staring at me. There’s something about the look she’s giving me that I just don’t like. It’s like a mixture of questions, disappointment, and anger. Basically the normal emotions Sora will never show.

“Alright,” I say as I try to get a comfortable position on his bed. “First, shouldn’t you be going to school? Second, what’s with that look?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Is it about last night? Well, sorry, but I’m far too exhausted to get you home. And you get the bed! I slept on the chair—” Bed, I’m on my bed. “Did you move me?”

Sora turns away, her chin rested on her palm. “Had to. You’re going to have a backache if I didn’t.” She says it so curtly. I’m positive an evil spirit has possessed her and she’s not herself now.

“Okay, who are you? Where’s Oh Sora?”

She rolls her eyes. “I am Oh Sora, Kai.”

I can’t grasp what the hell was wrong with her. “Just know that sulking around isn’t going to solve your problem. What’s wrong?”

“You left the Damneds unscarred!” she yells.

Oh, I think. It is about last night. “I’ve told you. I’m no hero. I value my life a lot more than some other dude’s.”

That’s when the real Sora comes from the possessed shell. She turns to me with the pout-attack. “But you must be better than that. You know what they can do, what they have done to that man.”

“It’s too late, Sora. Even if we did stay to, well, to try to kill them. We won’t stand a chance. I know my ability and limit. Fighting three Damneds after having one hell of an exhausting day?” I snort. “Even my father couldn’t do that. Or maybe he can. I don’t know. Not really.” He probably can, since he’s oh-so-great, but whatever. I snap out of my thoughts. “You should go to school. I don’t want a tardy missy in my house.”

Sora doesn’t answer for a moment. She get up then sighed. “Fine. I’ve made you a tea. It’s next to your favorite dagger.” And she walks out of the door. Or not. Her head peeks back in. “I’ll be back on three.”

She shuts the door.

I take the tea on the table and take a sip. I’ve been curious of something for some time. One particular thing about Oh Sora: her identity. Even the most basic thing confuses me—like, how did she knew me? And so, I grab my coat and stroll out of my apartment. The girl can’t be far. I run down the stair while at the same time, try to keep my footsteps light and quiet. I find her walking on the pedestrian walkway. Purple hair glowing under the sunlight.

I keep a good distance away from the girl where I can see her without being seen. Sounds like a creep but that’s how my investigation begin.

---

The investigation turns into a long walk with me doing impromptu camouflages since there aren’t many pedestrians that could cover me up. Every once in a while I have to pretend I’m going the wrong direction or hide behind the street lamps. I can only be thankful that Sora is so oblivious to her surrounding that she can’t feel someone was following her. (On other occasion, I would scold her for this kind of careless behavior). The result of my investigation, however, is that Sora is not going to ‘school’. She’s going to her flat.

Her steps are light and bouncy as she walks up the front steps of her flat while I hide behind the nearest tree. An elderly woman around her late 50s opens the door and greets Sora with a worried look. The woman is thin and short, much like Sora. Her hair is black. She wears a flowered housedress and nothing to cover her feet. She envelops Sora in a tight hug. They exchanged some words before Sora dashes into the building.

Could she possibly be her mother?

To satisfy my curiosity, I come out from my hiding place and head to the front door. I ring the bell and wait patiently with my hands behind my back. The same woman opens the door, wearing a warm yet cautious smile. I’m aware that I probably look like a thug with the black coat and disheveled hair.

“Good morning, Ma’am,” I greet with such a fake smile I mentally cringe.

“Oh, morning. Can I help you?” She opens the door wider.

Good, I think. “Ah,” I hold out my hand. “I’m Kim Kai from Sunrise Foundation.”

The woman nods and shakes my hand. “Oh, Kim Sooyoung. Can I help you?” she repeats her question.

Not her mother? “Actually, I’m here to ask a few questions regarding our new employee Oh Sora, if you don’t mind.”

Her smile drops. It turns into a scowl. “She applied for another job?” she sighs. “When will that kid rest? She already works in that old café and the bookstore down 4^th Ave.” It sounds like she’s grumbling, but it’s more than enough information for me. I just need a little more.

“Are you, perhaps, her mother?”

The woman turns to me sharply. “Mother? Son, seems like you’ve mistaken. Come in, come in, I’ll let her know you’re here—”

I stop her. “No, really. It’s my job to investigate new employee without them knowing. Our company values our employees’ comfort. I doubt she’d be comfortable knowing her fellow employee is doing background check on her.”

The woman looks baffled at first, but then she nods. “Okay, come in. I’ll make you a coffee.”

“Oh, just tea, please,” I say, following the woman into the living room.

She gestures me to sit on the tattered, orange couch. “What kind of company is, what is it, Sunrise Foundation?” she asks as she walks to the cabinets to make me a tea.

“Yes, yes. Well, we’re social workers. We consult people with problems.”

(It is partially true, right?)

The woman stirs the tea and places it on the table. She sits on the opposite couch. “I know Sora is good with people. Especially kids,” she says, wearing a proud smile. “They just love her, you know?”

Seems like it. “Yes, I figured as much,” I say. I lean forward. My elbows are on my knees and my fingers entwined. “So, are you her relative? Guardian or …”

She chuckles. “I’m merely the owner of this place, Mr. Kim. Didn’t Sora tell you that her parents have passed away? Poor kid, she is. She works all day and night. Sometimes I’m worried about her. I often persuade her to go back to school but she always denies that she doesn’t want to bother me. Well, my kids are all grown-ups. Helping a young girl like her doesn’t bother me.”

Ah, so Sora has fooled me all along. “Seeing that most of the identity she provided are fake. I’m going to take a look at—”

“Kai?” a small voice calls. The voice comes from the stairs.

“Sora! This young man just came—”

Sora cuts her landlord off. “What are you doing here?”

I turn to her. My smile is sour and not in anyway delightful. “Well, good morning, Oh Sora. I believe we have so much to discuss.”

---