*Re-edited version 10/19/12*

I'm sorry if this chapter is too short and still doesn't introduce the characters you want, but leave some comments and we'll se how fast the next chapter will be posted. I suggest doing so especially if you're a SHINee bias. Excuse me for mistakes or any rush in the plot.

After the first ellipses, anything in green is Japanese.

Disclaimer: I don't own pics.

(Alaina's POV)

The move to Seoul was easy.

I lied. It wasn't entirely easy.

When I had told the children at the orphanage that I was leaving to another country, they started bawling and begging me to stay. Since they were emotional, I was too, and even slipped a few tears free (my face was really puffy after that). But I reassured them that I would come back in some six-seven months time if everything went according to plan.

Packing was the quickest job done.

In my small apartment, I had the barest of decorations and furniture - I wouldn't be needing them anymore. All of my clothes and belongings easily fit into three bags and two boxes. I wouldn't miss my measly apartment. Not at all. It held no clinging memories to me.

One thing that was a challenge to me was the airplane ride itself. I wasn't a fan of...altitude. I dreaded it.

So that Saturday morning of my departure, I waited for my plane to be announced along with Ayano, sitting in the stiff chairs. Ayano held my hand and I felt her joy and anticipation....and her loss.

I hadn't seen Yuki since they had slept over at the orphanage. He had left before I had even woke up that morning. Ayano told me it was because he was busy with school and work but I couldn't help but feel disappointed and regretful. Even though I rejected him in a dream, it effected his judgement about his choices.

My heart jumped unsteadily when I heard that my plane was ready to be boarded.

Ayano tugged on my hand gently, urging. "Time to go."

I was excited, yes, I was going to begin a new journey, but I was also despairing that I would leave my precious memories behind. I was going to be alone in a world full of unknown people and situations.

Emotions poked at me, and I began sniffling as I hugged Ayano tightly. I whispered in her ear, "You know you were always an obaa-san to me. I always thought of you as one."

"Good thing I thought of you as my granddaughter," Ayano said sincerely and patted my ample cheek. "Be careful in Seoul. Control your...gifts and be a good person. Ne?"

I nodded amiably. "Un."

I turned to leave but froze when I heard my name being shouted, "Alaina!"

I spun around on my heel in shock. "Y-Yuki?"

Yuki ran straight to me and enveloped me in a big, warm hug. I clung to him, almost crying in joy. "I almost couldn't make it," he gasped. He pulled away slightly and handed something to me. It glinted under the fluorescent lights. "Here. I worked hard in earning the money."

A necklace. Nothing too fancy or expensive. The chain was silver and the pendent had a small blue rose emblazoned by tiny bold sapphires.

I choked on my words, "Y-Yuki, you - you're -" I threw my arms around him. "Arigato!" I cried on his shirt. He had spent long working hours on a low salary to buy me a farewell present when I didn't ask for such a thing.

Yuki squeezed me reassuringly. "Live your life and do good in Seoul." He kissed my forehead gently. "Sayonara, Alaina."

I nodded and hurried off to catch my flight. I waved back as I ran. "Aieru!"

Ayano and Yuki watched me go, disappearing from their lives for good.

Really, they wouldn't see me for a long time.

...

"You're not going to throw up, are you?" asked my caretaker/guide in the car. I looked super pale and nervous ever since the plane ride.

Stupid airplane. Stupid car ride. Stupid motion sickness.

"I-I'm fine," I replied weakly, then corrected myself when I belatedly realized I spoke in Japanese instead of Korean. "It'll pass. I'm fine, really."

The beautiful view of Seoul eased my sickness though. It was breathtaking and mesmerizing. I couldn't wait to explore the streets and see the parks.

My caretaker was actually a counselor from the school I was enrolled in. He oversaw my well-being and whatnot. I was awkward being around an older male than other than Yuki.

Yuki. Ayano. The orphanage. My hand involuntarily clenched around the blue rose necklace hanging from my neck. I couldn't wait to contact them, but I had to settle myself first, then I could send letters.

"Here we are," announced my caretaker. He pulled up into a parking lot next to a large, cozy apartment building complex. The building itself looked plain and undescriptive. We got out of the car; I took my bags while my caretaker loaded my boxes on a dolly. He passed me my apartment keys and the paperwork of ownership.

"Your apartment is 2A," he told me. "That's over to the far left on the second level."

We silently traveled to my new apartment. I opened the door and thought, Looks almost like my old apartment.

I had two regular-sized rooms, one bathroom, a small kitchen, an empty living room, and a snug storage closet. For laundry, I would have to use the building's public laundry room downstairs.

I had the barest and simplest of furniture, a desk and chair, a couch, two twin beds, a dresser, a small dining table with four chairs, a refrigerator, and some kitchenware. The apartment had been cleaned out but not entirely welcoming.

"Perfect," I muttered as I dropped my bags on the couch. I didn't even have a TV or landline phone.

My caretaker unloaded the boxes and set them on the floor in the living room. "There's some food that I bought you earlier. I hope you can cook or else you'll be having ramen everyday." He handed me a plump envelope. "Here's your weekly allowance. It's not much, mianhamnida."

I shook her head and gave him a small, gratifying smile. "You did a lot for me already, kamsamnida." I bowed sincerely.

"My phone number is also in the envelope. I'll be seeing you in school two days from now, the information is written on the notepad in the kitchen," he informed me lastly. He bowed his head. "Annyeonghagaseyo. And good luck." He left me behind in my newly acquired home.

Two days before school? I thought contemplatively. I could go job hunting.

I decided to unpack my clothing and fold them neatly in the dresser. Next, I emptied my boxes, organizing my books, pictures, and supplies on my desk. Then I rearranged my clock, lamps, and other items. Feeling satisfied, I sauntered into the kitchen and checked my food supply.

Ramen packets in the cabinets. Also cereal, eggs, fruit, milk, a variety of vegetables...not bad.

I glanced at the time and saw it was only an hour before noon. I decided to go job hunting early and grab some lunch along the way.

I took a good amount of money with me and stashed the rest in my dresser. With a map, I went off, locking the door behind me.

...

"Which one is better? A gift store or cafe?" I murmured, debating to myself as I stared at the two stores across the street. A gift store couldn't provide food so cafe it was. I ambled to the small, cozy restaurant. Inside was warm with a gentle atmosphere. The cafe had a long counter to sit by - allowing you observe the workers - windows seats, booths, and some circular tables. I saw pictures and artwork hanging on the walls and cute, inviting decorations here and there. Only some customers were inside, chilling and snacking. I smelled rich coffee and mouthwatering sweets in the air.

A women in her early thirties approached me wearing an apron over her casual attire. Her dark hair was tied up in a sloppy bun. "Can I help you?" she asked me bluntly.

I cleared my throat. "I-I was wondering if I could apply for a job. You had the 'help wanted' sign outside."

The women eyed me critically from head to toe. "You look kinda young. Do you have any experience serving-"

"I'm seventeen," I cut in. Since I was in Korea, I was a year older. "I'm almost eighteen. And yes, I know how to brew coffee and stuff. I know how to bus tables, too. I used to take care of children, cooking and cleaning."

The women seemed impressed behind her piercing gaze. "Let me ask my mother. Come with me, girl. My name is Park Chunhei by the way."

"Alaina," I replied back, bowing my head formally. Chunhei led the way behind the counter, but glanced back at me queerly.

"What kind a name is that?" she asked. "Don't you have a surname?"

I flinched at the thought. "M-my last name is Akiyama."

Akiyama was actually Ayano's surname, from which she allowed me to adopt. I was forever grateful but it didn't feel right to take a name that didn't belong to me originally.

Chunhei rolled her eyes as we reached a small door of an office in the back corner of the little cafe. Chunhei knocked on it. "Yah, umma. We have someone who wants to apply for a job."

The door creaked opened to reveal an elderly lady in her late fifties. Her dark hair was streaked with silver and she wore thin-rimmed glasses. She didn't look as daunting as her daughter, but she did stare at me from up and down like a judge.

"She claims she has experience, umma," remarked ChunHei, crossing her arms.

I bowed my head politely. "Annyeonghaseyo, ma'am. My name is Akiyama Alaina. I know how to cook and clean well because I have taken care of children before."

"She seems worthy," said the mother warmly. She held out her hand. "I am the owner of this cafe, Park Chungcha. I welcome you to our establishment."

I didn't want to seem rude, so I shook Chungcha's withered hand. Like it was my own memory, I smelt multiple scents of coffee and pastries and heard the giggles of a young girl. I was glad when Chungcha released her grip.

"For how long will you be willing to work?" asked Chungcha in her gentle, firm voice.

"I'm starting school soon," I told her. "But I will work for how long you want me to."

"I'll write you a schedule then," decided Chungcha. She smiled, wrinkles fanning around and eyes. "I have great expectations from you."

"Humph," snorted Chunhei, and sauntered off back to the front to deal with the customers.

"Ignore her," said Chungcha when she saw my scared expression. Chunhei sure was rigid. "She's very picky, that's all. She and I are the only ones who maintain this cafe. I opened it myself."

I smiled tentatively. "That's very admirable."

"Why don't you ask my stubborn daughter to show you how to work while I write you a schedule and find an applicant slip?"

I nodded and bowed again gratefully. Then I ambled back to the front of the store and found Chunhei in a little kitchen area, decorating sweets.

Finding some courage, I asked, "May I help? I know a lot about baking."

"How about how to grind and brew coffee?" she questioned, cocking a brow.

"I know a little," I admitted timidly, fiddling with the hem of my sleeves.

"You're going need to wear an apron everytime you're here. Sometimes locals like having their food delivered. Usually I do it, but since you're more capable than me, I suggest memorizing a map so you can be the delivery girl."

"Ye, Chunhei-shi."

She rolled her eyes as she topped a cheesecake with whip cream. "Just call me Chunhei-ah. You make me sound older than I already am."

My lips twitched into an amused smile. Chunhei caught that and made a face.

So basically, I spent my entire first day in Seoul at the cafe, known as Park's Little Town (or just Little Town for short). I signed the necessary paperwork and began shadowing the mother-daughter pair as they flitted about in their little haven. My mood was gentle and loving because of the atmosphere. I loved it here already.

The Parks were impressed by my baking abilities and neat organization. I was serious about work and they approved of me wholeheartedly. I was excellent with money and numbers, so the cash register would be no problem and clean up was just another chore to be done. Chungcha graciously fed me lunch for free. Because of the kind act, I promised to work hard for her.

"So you're Japanese?" Chunhei asked me out of the blue while we were busing tables.

I blinked. "Uh - ne. I'm in an exchange program. That's why I just moved here. I live about fifteen minutes away on foot."

Chunhei raised her brows, intrigued. "Do you know what school you're going to?"

I thought back, my brows furrowing. "I think...SM Academy."

Chunhei whistled appreciatively. "That's a high-quality school. I wonder if you'll survive the first week. Talented people go there. From brainiacs to rich kids to models."

I gulped. "J-jinja? I-I'm told I'm very smart."

"You better be," joked Chunhei and chuckled.

I found myself smiling.

...