Her body towered high can be seen from the reflection of the huge window glasses. Every ticking moment is a witness to a series of flashbacks from her sacred past. She faces the cloudy sky like an ancient Greek statue. 

Less blink or feel anything. 

Imme is in her favorite part of the mansion. The exhibit of her classical hobby consists of plenty of precious collections. Her attention centers on an autographed collection of the Twilight book series that is protected by a glass box. She still remembers the feeling of joy the day a special package has been delivered to Ms. Jang's penthouse. She has known it right away that it was from her beloved father. 

Including the moment of beautiful memories, she shared with Joanne, who taught her to read for fun, not for specific validation as an educated child. 

"I'm sorry, Miyeon," she tells the latter who just walks into the space. "I can't go with you," 

Miyeon, in her checkered outfit, approaches her older cousin and sighs. "Shuhua is deadly hoping you'll be there, you know?" 

Imme chuckles, "Is it her or you actually?" 

She pouts, "Both of us," 

"But I'm glad at least you're off from work," Miyeon says, taking a glance at Imme's treasure box. "A week in Jeju-do must be less exciting without you but what can I say? I can't pull off this weird fate from you, Imme unnie," 

Imme goes quiet, checking another collection from the glass drawer. She reaches for her first-ever collection of ancient Joseon manuscripts, the second copy she's gotten from the Secret Library, an organization founded by some unknown figure in the 80s. The pages are derived from uigwe, a vast collection of thousands of books describing royal rituals and ceremonies recorded in the Joseon dynasty of Korea. Imme has purchased it after continuous biddings and officially becomes the owner as she offered ten thousand dollars. 

"I'm off to Japan tonight, so you do your job and I'll do mine, Miyeon. Isn't we always that way?" Imme mumbles, polishing the glass surface with a clean rug. 

"Where is the fun part of this? You're gonna be all alone and depressed, again," replies Miyeon. "Jeju-do has more treasures than Japan, what left is you gotta explore and discover more," 

"I can't, I really wanna go, but I can't, Miyeon-ah," says Imme, eyes still on her precious glass. "I'm off work but I cannot be behind schedule. Daddy's there and this is a very important thing to do," 

"I know how annoying it is, to be stranded alone among massive crowds, again and again," Miyeon claims. "You seem so dead to the world but nobody cares," 

"Or change the plan? Wait for me until I get back and we'll go together?" Imme makes a random suggestion. 

"Ugh," Miyeon rolls her eyes. "Unnie, I have a very limited time to spend this study week. Final assessment drives me crazy and last-minute cancellation, absolutely not. Jeju can't wait for me anymore," 

"Or more like you can't wait for Jeju," Imme teases. "Instead of studying, you have fun, that's pretty wise," 

"Well, that's my idea of fun, who are you to judge???" Miyeon retaliates with a foot stomp. "I hang around with you since I can remember but you always dumped me to escape into your own dead world!" 

Imme finishes the dust-cleansing and stares at her little sister-like. 

"When is it the last time we travel together, nose-bridge?" Imme asks, putting her hands on the waist. "Stop sulking, you're a grown-up adult," 

"Of course, I remember! Amber, the wife, and the kids? Pretty memorable for me, for sure," Miyeon fixes the headband on top of her head then. "It feels like yesterday, me, you, and Shuhua traveled together. Journey to find a happy ending of KryBer, the biggest experience in my life I must say," 

Imme can't help but smile as she recalls the last mysterious trip she had, where curiosity and hope led the path. 

"What if, after Japan and Jeju, and your final assessment we have another visit to Amber's?" 

Miyeon's eyes get wide. 

"For serious???" 

Imme nods, "I'm dead serious," 

"Would it be fine for another visit since we already resolved the mystery?" Miyeon questions. 

"Amber is nice, you see it on your own, right? Besides, you and Shuhua love the kids," Imme says. She glances at the clock on the wall then. "I'll text you back after this Japan boring occasion, okay?" 

Miyeon doesn't utter anything but looks at Imme closely. "And... anything to say to Shuhua?" 

They involve in a staring contest. Imme shakes her head in denial. "Nope got nothing to say," 

"I see... Alright, I'll say you're sending her love and hugs then, bye," she playfully says and quickly runs from the room, leaving Imme speechless on her standing spot. 

-----

"Heads up, champ," Mr. Cho reminds when he leads Imme into the crowded space. "I can smell money from here," 

Imme gulps, "I don't speak Japanese, for your information," 

"Relax, they have a translator, for each person," says Mr. Cho cooly. "You're fluent in English, be proud of it," 

She studies every face passing by them then, "Miyeon was right, this seems so dead to the real world," and glances at her tall father. 

"You can talk about k-pop if you want. It's very a famous topic," Mr. Cho suggests after grabbing two glasses of champagne from the waiter. "Or anything related to music, as long as it is applicable to that person," 

"I don't think---," she's been cut off as she recognizes a familiar face walking toward them. 

"Ms. Imme!" the girl greets her happily. Mr. Cho frowns but Imme suppresses a little smile when their distance is closed. 

"Is this a miracle or... coincidence?" Imme asks when Jimin, a junior journalist she has met a couple of times stands beautifully with a floral dress in front of her. 

"Oh, daddy, this is Ms. Yu Jimin and she's the first journalist who interviewed me on my first day at work," Imme introduces the girl to Mr. Cho with a gentle tone. 

The middle-aged guy nods, not forgetting to smile wide. They shake hands. 

"Glad to meet you in person, Mr. Cho," Jimin greets with a bow.

"Yes, me too," he replies. 

"If you're not a journalist, I would definitely think you're a stalker," Imme mutters to Jimin when their eyes met. "Me and my daddy here are targeting some people from Japan's high-class market. Are you interested, Ms. Jimin?" 

"Of course, I'm pretty excited when it comes to, fashion," Jimin voices out in her charming tone. 

"I can feel that," Imme says proudly. 

They lock eyes for a moment before Mr. Cho taps Imme's shoulder to get her full attention. "Let's go, champ. Mr. Tagawa is here," 

Imme understands the assignment and exchanges another stare with Jimin. "I gotta go, see you soon," 

The young journalist immediately gets a grab of it and asks for a high five from Imme, which the latter gladly returns. 

"Good luck," Jimin says. 

Imme breathes in so deeply. She tells herself, alright, this is the time to stand out. 

I see people, she says. 

Calm down, she says. 

Please don't barf. Please don't barf. Imme makes a mental note, vigorously. 

Caressing her stomach which starts to growl, Imme forces herself to endure the pain. 

She has to look at Mr. Tagawa in the eye, but, instead of being friendly, a set of tears are out. 

The Japanese wealthy man senses something wrong with Imme but he proceeds with the conversation and gives a space for his translator to deliver his words. 

While Mr. Cho is too immersed in the conversation, and barely notices his daughter's pale expression.

"Accurately, we barely make diplomacy in handling market over here. Everyone is afraid to take the risk because foreign investment is mostly unprofitable to certain parties," Mr. Cho speaks like a true businessman. "But... not on me and my people," 

Mr. Tagawa nods after the translation but he can't look away from Imme. 

"What are we looking for in this deal is more opportunity to extend the market," Mr. Cho continues, glancing at Imme after he reads Mr. Tagawa's attention. He taps the young woman's back and furthers, "Only if a smart investor like you, Mr. Tagawa, we can make this happen," 

The rest of the conversation dissolves into the thin air and Imme couldn't hear or understand a thing. The buzzing sound increasingly haunts her so before anything worst could happen, Imme immediately excuses herself and rushes to the bathroom. 

Mr. Cho looks at Mr. Tagawa apologetically then, "I'm sorry for that," 

The Japanese man nods and bows back at him as a response. His translator informs Mr. Cho about his consideration resulting from their conversation earlier, "We will get back to you soon, and his secretary will reach for an appointment. Well done too he said," 

Mr. Cho bows politely at Mr. Tagawa before shaking hands with him. Deeply, he is satisfied, very very satisfied. 

Wondering where Imme has gone, he tries by calling through a phone call. He's been rejected twice before it goes into a mailbox message. "Where in the world does this kid go at such a crucial moment?" he hisses, full of disappointment. 

---

Her slender body is soaking wet, like after a shower. Although she's alone inside the cubicle, everyone in the washroom can hear her vomiting. A crowded mind featuring a terribly upset stomach, it's like a set of torture for Imme which she has to deal with per second. 

After flushing, with her restless body, Imme paces weakly to the sink area and splashes tap water onto her face. She ignores every eye and tries to calm down, despite feeling ill as hell. 

A short and looking young Japanese woman approaches her first, offering a pack of dry tissue. Imme doesn't understand any word she utters but gladly takes it from her. She mouths thank you and bows politely which the latter returns with another Japanese phrase and light bow. 

Somehow, Imme remembers her father's reminder about how unfriendly the Japanese are when it comes to strangers. Now she sees, it's a generic assumption. 

Once she reunites with Mr. Cho, Imme can read from his face, how disheartened he is. 

"What happened?" he asks. 

Imme sniffs and wipes her face with a piece of dry tissue before she replies, "My bad, random stomachache," 

Mr. Cho sighs and nods, "Great timing because we only got a deal with Mr. Tagawa," 

"Glad you got the deal and I lost my appetite," Imme says. 

Mr. Cho observes his child's condition and mutters, "How do I know you're not acting out, Imme?" 

Imme's stare gets intense and she chuckles in disbelief. "You think I'm acting out?" 

"I can tell because you've done this before," he says. 

"Well then, let's just say I'm acting out, just to satisfy your crap of deal," Imme rebels. 

"Watch your language," Mr. Cho warns, checking everyone passing by them. "I want you to focus, Imme. Learn, how big this is, not just some leisure stuff for entertainment. We didn't come here to play because we pay our people with money, not sweat and tears," 

Imme has lost in words. How much she hates what she heard from her father at the moment, only God knows. 

"No sacrifice, no victory, remember that," Mr. Cho furthers, gripping Imme's left shoulder. "I'm not asking much from you today. Just concentrate on how the deals are made and then you can have the fun afterward," 

Reaching the limit of her patience, Imme swats away her father's grip and glares intensely at him. 

"Not asking much doesn't make you a good father anyway," Imme retaliates, adding her angry look. 

Before the father could utter a thing in response, Imme leaves him hanging there, all alone in the crowded space as she departs to the exit door. 

With unspecific direction, Imme rushes from the event and heads to nowhere, until she reaches the parking lodge. There waiting, her father's secretary named Dayeong who's leaning sideways on the front door of the exclusive SUV as she spots Imme not far away from her sight. A frown grows when she sees Imme is not walking in her direction but to the entrance gate. 

"O-oh? Where is she going???" she mumbles, very confused. Later, she tries ringing Imme's phone but only the operator's voice has welcomed her back. 

---

The Ritz- Carlton Tokyo, 6.20 pm. 

She has been asleep in the luxurious hotel room for hours. Awake only when she feels the sudden dark surrounding the space. 

"God, my back," Imme grunts and stretches her body. Yawning wide, Imme throws her sight outside. What was fibrous in her mind this afternoon seemed to have disappeared with sleep. She is also aware she has not been able to enjoy sleep since the first day of work and that sleep she just had, was probably the best in months. 

Still in lazy mode to log into the electronic world, Imme refuses to switch on her cellphone and rises from the bed. Pacing straight to the snack counter since she's hungry as hell. 

To her disappointment, Japanese snacks and beverages do not meet her taste bud.  

"I don't even speak Japanese, how to order delivery though," Imme murmurs to the air and runs her hands through her bed hair. 

No other option, she forces herself to clean and change into casual clothes, making sure she's tagging her precious wallet along. 

Tokyo is a beautiful city. Lights everywhere. Skyscrapers everywhere. Not much different from Seoul so it is easy for Imme to find the closest convenience store. She's in an incognito mood, with a hoodie covering her head and masks on. 

She pays at the counter after grabbing three pieces of onigiri, two boxes of strawberry milk, and a cup of instant ramen noodle- all are Japanese brands. Luckily, there is a seating area provided outside the store and to satisfy her hunger at that moment, Imme rushes to fill hot water into the ramen cup, before settling at the spot alone. 

In Japan, everyone is too busy to meddle in others' business, because they have their own problem in mind. Again, not much different from South Korea, so Imme enjoys her food while admiring how tasty it is although so many strangers pass by. 

From hot ramen noodle to the delicious onigiri, Imme finishes her lunch slash dinner with the remaining two boxes of strawberry milk. If someone asks, how does it feel to live without gadgets, Imme would definitely say the feeling is the best in the world since she has detached temporarily from the unnecessary nuisance, especially those annoying people and important people from work. 

Full and happy, Imme ensures everything goes into the nearest dustbin before she starts roaming the streets. 

She distracts her mind from reminiscing what happened in the afternoon by entering this one classic book store located not far away from the hotel she's checking in. Hoping to buy something as a souvenir for her lovely cousin, Imme walks in with a few Japanese money notes inside her wallet. 

In the end, nothing is interesting so she decides probably it's great to return to the hotel soon. 

Neither her father nor his assistant knows where she is. According to Mr. Cho's secretary, she must check in at the same hotel as his daddy's, even so, she uses a freedom excuse as a ticket to be alone in Japan. However, the truth is, that Imme tries to avoid becoming Mr. Cho's company for every business-related date he has.

She's not in the mood to think about it, but somehow guilty for leaving him aside. Imme senses something is wrong with her body, because every time she tries to adjust herself in any crowd, she gets nervous. Like all the time. In fact, it has been so long that she's not able to make an appointment with her therapist, due to work. 

Holding a box of strawberry milk unfinished, Imme bows back at the guard and walks cooly through the entrance. Her tall figure catches the same familiar young girl she knows, who's standing at the receptionist, and makes Imme changes her direction to walk and greet her. 

"Ms. Jimin?" Imme calls out her name and the latter looks so different, with a tight black dress showing her great body. She tries to focus on Jimin's face and frowns, though the latter is irresponsive to seeing her. 

"Again, another coincidence," Imme says, putting on a small smile. 

Jimin seems nervous but forces back a smile to Imme. "Hi, Ms. Imme. I'd never expect we gonna meet again by the way, especially at this moment," she lowers her voice. Her discomfort stare, and repeatedly checking for someone from left to right make suspicion grows inside Imme. 

"Alone?" Imme asks and Jimin shakes her head first, before nodding awkwardly. 

"Alright, I gotta go," Imme says, thinking she's probably interfering with someone else's personal matter. 

She reads Jimin's eyes when the younger girl seems hesitant to agree with her act to leave. As she walks a few meters away from the receptionist, a tall and broad man approaches Jimin and pulls her body closed to him.  

Imme sighs, 

"Probably her sugar daddy or boyfriend," and reaches her room even though she has unpleasant instinct kicking in.

In spite of that, Imme stops and quickly slides her body behind a huge vase near the elevator. She observes Jimin being dragged by the man toward nowhere with a high meter of curiosity and suspicion. The young girl looks scared as if he's threatening a harmonious society. 

She tries to keep the pace by following them secretly then. 

Jimin and the mysterious figure reach the Club Lounge, where they have to be identified first by the security. Still, in her spying mode, she turns her body around, all ears. 

She can hear Jimin's shaking voice, 

"Please, Mr. Park, I don't want to do this," 

And the man addressed as Mr. Park hurriedly replies to her, "Just a simple company. You entertain him, sing or dance, or anything and done," 

Imme steps closer and approaches the wall leaning her body sideways as her back still facing the entrance of the club since she's trying to get a bit clearer of their conversation. 

"Come on, you do what I told you and you can go home," this Mr. Park guy says as if blackmailing Jimin with a force. 

That's when Imme realizes she needs to do something once Jimin and the guy enter the club side by side, or more like the young girl has been left no option other than obeying him. 

Imme doesn't have any problem getting into the lounge, just by showing her exclusive hotel key card and she earns a quick nod from the security man.  

As she steps into the ground of the lounge, the atmosphere is similar to an expensive bar visited by the elite in South Korea. The branded furniture is arranged neatly and what’s most interesting there is definitely the high shelves showcasing a variety of branded alcoholic beverages. For instance, Baileys from Ireland, Hennesy the most favorite by Hollywood celebrities and Imme's top pick when she's in the US, the Jack Daniel's. 

Since she's in an incognito mode, having alcohol is considered not a good choice at the moment, she must concentrate on the future problems she might deal with. 

She spots Jimin is still with the same person but another man has joined them, wearing like he's in Hawaiian vacation, and they altogether standing at the door entrance into the karaoke room. Imme frowns when he embraces his arm around Jimin's shoulder and laughs, showing his entire universe of mouth and teeth. 

"Jeez, a cringe old man," Imme mumbles and uncovers the hoodie from the top of her head. "Alright, let's act out for real," her monologue disappears in her mind, and Imme braces herself, heading straight to them. 

"Jimin?" Imme calls her, putting a blank expression on her face, pretending she's not aware of the young girl's presence in the beginning. 

Instantly, the laughing Hawaiian-feeling man and Jimin's dictator companion earlier shift their attention to her, speechless. 

Imme furthers, controlling her voice from breaking, "I thought you're...back to Seoul? Why are you here?" 

Jimin is also startled by Imme's sudden intrusion so she can't mutter a thing. The young girls exchange an awkward stare at the moment while the remaining men are confused as hell. 

"Why you didn't answer me?" Imme asks, putting another straight face at Jimin. "And what are you doing with these old men?"

"Whoa-whoa, wait for a second," the man butts in, looking at Imme. "I don't know who the hell are you and how you two... are related? The girl here is my student," 

"Student? Your student?" Imme questions, glancing at Jimin but the latter has her head low since she doesn't have the gut to look into Imme's eyes in person. 

Imme feels her blood starts to boil. She releases the Hawaiian-feeling man's arm from Jimin's shoulder, very harshly and grabs her wrist. She shoots a glare at him, "She's my girlfriend, you old man," 

Mr. Park and his potential fellow friend are shocked by Imme's statement. The Hawaiian-feeling man changes his attention to him, "What is this? You said this girl has no commitment? You lied to me???" 

Mr. Park in denial, "No... no, she said to me before that she's... single. I'm sorry Mr. Han, this must be some misunderstanding," 

Imme pulls Jimin closer to her and intensely voices out, "Misunderstanding your ! Did you just force my girlfriend to be a e or what?! She's your fxxking student!" 

Jimin's tears start falling and Imme keeps pretending. 

The Hawaiian-feeling man shakes his head, depressed after knowing Imme is Jimin's 'boyfriend', and weakly sighs. "I'm not wasting my time on this girlfriend boyfriend's conflict, Mr. Park. I think you better forget your dream to be the head department. Adios then," he says and walks away, leaving Mr. Park and his struggle of explanation. 

Before Mr. Park could utter a thing to any of them, Imme punches his face, so hard that he falls to the ground as the blood inside his nose starts to flow out. 

Jimin can't be more surprised to witness Imme's spontaneous fury action. She covers and senses what just happened has stolen some of the other people's attention. But what's more unexpected, Imme strengthens the grip on her wrist and starts to drag her away from the spot, leaving the lounge, without even bothering to utter another word. 

All Jimin can remember, is Imme leading their steps out from the exclusive place and they end up inside a suite room.