2013 and 2014 are years that are a blur to Irene. She doesn't recall much details of events that took place then. All she remembers was getting sent to isolation thrice. And then the padded room where she was forced to be a child again.

She has a fond memory of a lady she met in the institution though. She wasn't sure if the lady was a patient, or a visitor. The lady was elegant. She was poised and she carried herself well. She was probably about the age of her own mother.

They crossed paths at the garden. Irene was sitting on the bench, idly staring into the dark skies. Clouds were drifting, seemingly gathering together, as if they were getting ready to pour and drench the earth. 

If the lightning signal still wasn't lit up, then it was still safe for patients to be out and about. 

"Your skin isn't paper. Don't ink it with red."

"I like red. It's the colour of rose," Irene responded, retracting her hands and putting them behind her back. 

"Is that your name, child?"

"My name?"

"Rose."

"I wish it was. Then at least even with my ugly personality I still have something pretty to call myself."

"You're beautiful, child. Inside out. You just haven't realised it."

Irene let out a dry laugh. "Sure."

"You are. I know a lovely person when I see one. One with a bright future. Take care, Rose. I hope to see you on the other side someday."

That was the first and last time she saw the lady. Sometimes Irene wished she could meet the lady again -- the lady who called her Rose. 

2013

Mino stood by the window in his office. It faced away from the institution wards, over a large garden that laid the grounds where the patients took their daily morning stroll. In his hand was a folder containing a patient's report. He opened it and read it through, letting out heavy sighs once in a while.

He had heard from a number of doctors that the new patient was not one who could be handled easily. She was fussy, and always refused to cooperate. She even demanded that the team of experts be screened personally by her.

Song Mino.

Mino remembered the director of the institution striding into his office, informing him: "She picked you. You have to take her case." There was an emphasis on that word, as if Mino had no other choice but to accept his fate. 

Bae Joohyun, or more known as Irene was the patient's name. Irene's diagnosis was severe depression, and borderline bipolar, according to the tests they ran. The director did mention it was possible that she did not have bipolar. Irene was a stubborn person. She refused to let herself drown in darkness, and would often drag herself out of it. One moment she would be all fine, then the next she would feel extremely upset. The director mentioned that her strong will to fight was a probable cause in her everchanging moods. Hence, they were not going to include bipolar as part of her diagnosis until further tests were done.

Irene was young. 17. Well below the legal age. Everything needed to be done with her parents' consent before the institution could even proceed with any interventions for her. 

Mino was worried. He wasn't sure if therapy would work for someone like her. Someone as young as her, with so little life experience might not be as receptive.

He sat down on his chair, running his fingers through his hair.

When Mino first received Irene on the first day of therapy in February, he saw what she needed.

He saw what she wanted, yet vehemently refused to express.

Irene wanted help, and she knew she needed help.

"Do you know why you're here?"

The cold air from the air-conditioner blew, yet Irene never flinched.

Two months into the weekly sessions and Irene was still refusing to share much. During therapy sessions, she was asked many questions, and even with ample probing from Mino, he couldn't get much out of her. There was a lot of deflecting, and Irene often dodged answering or even explaining herself.

In May, Irene had to be admitted to the hospital. She had to be strapped to the bed in the isolation ward.

At the end of June, Irene began to show improvements as a resident in the institution. She was still wary, but a little more willing to divulge bits and pieces of details of her life and her innermost thoughts.

It was something Mino embraced. Finally, he was able to break through the tough wall Irene had built surrounding herself.

"If you had wanted to give up, you wouldn't come here and ask for me."

"I'm sick of living in this haze... of craziness."

"Craziness?"

"That's what I am, aren't I?"

"Do you think you are?"

"Yes, I am. Like the rest here. We are all some sort of crazy here."

Then one day, a patient triggered her switch, lighting up her entire being.

She snapped.

And had to be sent to the isolation ward.

No one really knew what happened, or who triggered Irene.

But she was in there for quite awhile. 

"Irene, do you know what happens when your serotonin level dips and never goes back up?"

"Then that's the end for me."

"No, it's not."

"Then I'll just be living in darkness all the time."

Mino pressed his lips together. He interlocked his fingers and rested his chin on them, with his elbows laid on the desk. "How much do you value honesty?"

"Well, honesty isn't entirely the best policy."

"How about transparency?"

"That, I value a lot."

Mino nodded, casting careful glances at his