SEUNGHYUN'S POV

"Hi, Seunghyun."

I am going crazy; I am definitely going crazy. Because not seven feet away from me is Tiffany Hwang, whom I have not seen in twelve years . Her hair is longer now, and fine lines brackets her lips, parentheses around a lifetime of words I was not around to hear.

"Tiffany," I manage.

"I'm the guardian ad litem assigned to Kim Yoojung's case," she says. Kim Yoojung, the casualty that I had just rescued and is receiving medical treatment now.

"I thought Seoul is a pretty small place... I kept expecting or well, I thought we would definitely run into each other before now."

"Actually, it's not that hard to avoid someone, if you want to," she answers crudely. "You, of all people should know." Then, all of a sudden, the anger seems to steam out of her. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

"It's been a long time," I reply, when what I really want to do is ask her what she's been doing for the past twelve years. If she still cut her food before eating. If she's still obsessed with the colour pink. If she's happy. "Your hair isn't pink anymore," I say, because I'm an idiot.

"It's not, if you have your eyes checked," she scoffs. "Any issue with that?"

I ruffle my hair. "It's just..." Where the hell are words, when you need them. "I like the baby pink." Yes, I know. I'm really an idiot.

"I don't think the judge would allow me to enter the court with such hair, as much as I love it." Tiffany admits. There, I have an answer to one of my questions. She is, still obsessed with pink.

This brings a smile up my face. "Wow. Since when would Tiffany Hwang bother about how people look at her."

Silence is met. She shifts her legs nervously, gripping her skirt tightly with sweaty hands. She breathes slowly and unclenches her tightened fist. "Maybe, instead of bringing back the past, we should focus on Yoojung." She suggests diplomatically.

I nod. But if feels like we are sitting on the bench of a bus, with a stranger between us, one that none of us is willing to acknowledge nor mention, and so, we find ourselves talking around and through him or stealing glances when the other party isn't looking. How am I supposed to think about Kim Yoojung now, when all my mind is filled with questions of what she had been doing for the last twelve years?

"Is she alright?" Her melodious voice brings me back to the reality.

"O-Oh yeahs. She inhaled a couple of smoke, other than that, she should be fine." I clear my throat, trying to sound as professional as possible. "I think it will be wiser if you consult the doctor later."

"Right... I should make a move first then." She pleats the bottom of her blouse.

"Sure. So... See you around, I guess?" I raise my brows at her, trying to put on the most convincing and charismatic smile.

But, instead of replying or bidding a farewell, she strides away quickly. In record of minutes, she is out of my sight. Once again, I can only watch her back fades away with my eyes...

"Er... Captain Choi? Are you alright?" 

"Sure, I am. Why wouldn't I?"

Summer, 2000

Seoul High School to us, was like a factory. It was capable of producing future bankers, doctors, teachers and well, maybe a bunch of internationally-known terrorists or mafia bosses. We all looked and talked alike. To us, summer was a verb.

There were students, of course, who broke the mold. Best example, Choi Seunghyun and his best friend, Kwon Jiyong. Well, I was a repeat student and Jiyong was a year younger than me. We belonged to the bunch of potential mafia bosses. We fooled around during lessons, got into fights during lunch breaks, flirted with those cheerleading girls after school. However, we were one of the popular ones in the school. Because we were unique? Nahs. Because we had the looks and figures. Ok, scratch that figure part out for me. I hardly worked out. 

I was a sixth-grader the year that Tiffany Hwang came to Seoul High School. She wore army boots and a cheap cotton T-shirt underneath the school blazer. During free periods, while the rest of us were busy copping smokes behind the headmaster's back, she would stay in the class, head buried into her Pride & Prej