|Chapter Nine|

Usually, when Jong-in comes to this neighborhood and to this certain house, it was to pick up Myung Dae to go to kickbacks together or parties. But looking at the female perched beside him, absorbed in her slumber, he knew this was an entirely different situation. He sighed, noticing the dried tears swept across her cheekbones; however, he didn't move. He continued to just sit there and stare at her, observing her; looking at the way her bangs were slightly kept to the side, and how her hair was formally pinned up today; gawking at the way her lips slightly parted as she continued to remain in her dreamy faze.
He nudged her once. "Irreona..yah, up! Get up, Mone-ah... irreona.."

His attempts were futile. He didn't wake her, didn't budge her -- he couldn't even get her to stir once, despite his desperate attempts to get her out of his car. He blinked at her a couple of times, unsure of what to do, until his hazy eyes morphed into a sleepy glare. Pabbo.
He got out of his car, strolling to her side, and impatiently opened the door. Having her seat belt removed successfully without waking her, he lifted her into his arms, using his hips to shut the door, and made the short trek to the front entrance of her home.

Myung Dae was the one to open the door. If the matter wasn't so serious, Myung Dae's widened eyes and gaping mouth might've brought a humorous laugh to Jong-in's lips.. but it didn't. Not this time.
"Hyung! What happened?!"
Jong-in sighed, walking into the house, softly brushing past the younger. "Kikwang's stupidity is what happened -- he set her up tonight."
Myung Dae's stare turned hard.
"But I don't want you to do anything about it," Jong-in warned his dongsaeng. "Let me handle him, hear?"

Myung Dae nodded, nudging his sister's cheek. "She's a heavy sleeper," he sniggered.
"I've noticed," Jong-in scoffed. 

"Omona! What's going on?"

Jong-in stared at the elderly woman before him, bowing his head respectfully, which proved to be hard with Mone in his arms like a dead stone. "Mone.. ran into some trouble with her date tonight. I can further explain --"
"Please do."
Jong-in stared at the man behind the woman, staring firmly at himself. "I will, but please let me put her down first."

The woman nodded, urging Jong-in up the stairs. "Up here, and second door to the left," she instructed. Jong-in gladly obliged, suddenly feeling the weight of a regular human being resting in his firm arms.

Myung Dae caught glance of his mother, who was blinking at him expectantly. His dad spoke up first, "Is that her boyfriend? Or friend? What is our Mone doing hanging with boys other than you?"
Myung Dae let out a low chuckle. "Ani.. Kai-hyung's definitely just friends with her... in fact, that's her student. Mone-noona is his tutor. However," Myung Dae whistled, looking up at Kai, who had just made his way into Mone's room, "he just might be something more than that soon."

Jong-in sat awkwardly on the couch, beside Myung Dae, scrutinized under Mone's father's hard glare. "It's really what happened. Please believe me," he explained.
"Why'd you go to her then?"
Jong-in instantly felt his mouth go dry. "If I didn't go and bring her home, Mone would've stayed there till much later until she finally caved in," Jong-in replied finally, after a long moment of thoughtful silence. However, that silence wafted into the atmosphere again, and instead of it being thoughtful, it was demeaning for Jong-in. He kept his eyes on his hands, and he fiddled with his thumbs.

"Why'd you let her go, hyung?"
Jong-in stared at Myung Dae, and instantly noticed the resemblance between the two Kang siblings. He let out a laugh -- brief and uneasy. "She didn't listen to me when I warned her," he whispered. "Instead, she got mad at me and stormed out -- disappeared before I could catch up."

"Thank you for being there for her," the aging woman remarked gratefully. Her husband nodded in agreement, as well as Myung Dae. "We owe you one," she murmured lovingly.
Jong-in could only smile. "It wasn't a problem, that's not necessary," he smiled tightly. "I'll get going. Take care of you sister, Myung Dae-ah. See you tomorrow, I guess."

Mone struggled with herself all throughout the day, unable to focus in any of her classes. Her mind kept wandering to Kikwang, resulting in her raging hormones to act up again. Then, she'd think back to Jong-in, and she was confused. Why did he try to stop her? Did he know? Even if he did, why did he want to help her? Why did he go to her? Why go out of his way to do all that... for her?

Because she was worth it.

Too bad she didn't know that.

So when Mone walked through those doors to get into the cafe area, eyes were on her. Murmurs erupted from her audience, and whispers were amongst them -- gossip. Gossip about her. Gossip about how she was played by Kikwang. The eyes were scrutinizing and mocking; the smirks lining some lips were definitely against her favor and in Kikwang's. But when she heard a long bang clatter against the floor and a couple of shouts, her brain redirected her gaze to where the noise came from, and she saw it.
The scene before her slowly unfolded as her mind processed it at an agonizing, snail pace. A tray of food was now on the floor, spattering salad dressing and vegetables everywhere. A plastic cup laid beside it, Pepsi or Coke spilling from the contents of the thrashed material. And Kikwang. Kikwang was pressed up against his table, white shirt stained as he was laid against the messy surface, Jong-in's fists wrapped around the collar of his top.
The glare in both their optics, she couldn't decipher them, but she could almost feel the rage pouring out of Jong-in as he kept his grip tight on KIkwang. They were panting.

"Kai-shii?"

She could hardly recognize her voice. It was hoarse from the crying, and dry from the lack of use all day. She met Kikwang's gaze and he instantaneously smirked at her like he won something, like he was a champion. Jong-in noticed this and only further pressed him against the table, letting the hard wooden surface dig into his rival's back.

"Kai-shii, stop."

Mone walked up to them, her messenger bag thudding against her thigh limply. The eyes were still on her and now even more whispers broke out. Whispers, murmurs, soft mutters -- all rumours, all gossip.
"Stop!" Mone wrapped her hands around Jong-in, letting her warmth radiate off of herself.

He let go. Jong-in retracted his hands, glaring at Kikwang, who glared at him back with as much intensity, but that eventually fell, when a hard impact met his cheek. He glanced at Mone's hand, agape, his cheek still twinging with mad pain. "Do you think girls are toys to play with?"
"That's exactly what I think," Kikwang retorted with a cocky snort.
"Then you deserve to die alone. You should just get out of here and come back to where you came from, Kikwang-ah." Mone's respect for him vanished with her pride last night in that cafe. She couldn't even look at him without wanting to punch his nose. "Tell Satan I said hi when you do."

With that, she walked out of the cafeteria, letting her peers' murmurs and gossip follow her out the door; tears were brimmed fresh across her eyelids, and that was one thing Jong-in failed to miss along with many others; not only was she crying, but she was angry, clenching her fists as she walked out. Jong-in ignored his kingka gang, ignored their inquiries of what that fiasco was about, and followed his feet. He wasn't thinking properly; he just followed his footsteps, letting his long gait lead him to wherever they wanted to go.

Where he wanted to go; and right now, that was wherever Kang Mone was.