[SANDEUL POV]

I am going to murder Cha Sunwoo.

Murder him.

All I wanted was a nice, calm, happy birthday, with maybe a new pair of socks and some pastel-colored balloons. Maybe a hand-made card or two would be nice as well, but that's all I could humbly ask for.

But no. Not only did I have an argument with my mother, not only did I have an exam, and not only did Sunwoo bother the out of me the entire day. That bastard had to go and get his stupid drunk and then put the ing icing on the birthday cake by taking my first kiss.

And when I got to school yesterday, he acted as if nothing ever happened, and just continued on harassing me with his stupid Sunwoo antics and his constant prodding that irks me to no end. No matter how many evil glares I sent his way throughout the day, he just kept up that stupid cocky stride and that Sunwoo-signature smirk, and I swear it's as if yesterday just poof, disappeared into thin air.

That -hat probably woke up with a hangover and didn't remember anything.

Excuse me while I scream endless profanities into my pillow.

Heh, that's a good idea. I can muffle his screams with a pillow while I slowly and painfully tear him limb from limb. Muahahahah-

Okay, Sandeul, calm yourself.

Before I start sharpening the butcher knives, I decide to take a walk. It's Saturday afternoon, and I've spent my morning doing chores around the house. My mother has already left, gone off to some cocktail party or maybe just the grimy downtown bar, so I figure I'd sneak out of this military board and get some fresh air. Skipping my hoodie, as the March weather just recently turned into the heavy air and dewey grass of April, I make the monotonous walk over to my new “spot,” the park.

Halfway there, the humid air gives way to a slight drizzle. It's barely even a mist, though, and it's not too cold, so I decide to just keep going. Jeez, it's been raining a lot lately.

Just as I'm stepping onto the curb of the block that houses the park, I notice something new: a floppy cardboard box sitting in the middle of a patch of grass, some incoherent black markings written on one it's faces. Raising my eyebrows in curiosity, I digress from my path and make my way over to the beckoning object. Kneeling over, my hands resting on my knees as dew collects on my arms and the back of my neck, I peer into the box. At first glance I notice the scrawl on the cardboard says “Free Puppy,” and nonetheless, through one open flap I make out a small, jittery white ball of fur.

At it shakes it's small frame, the tiny dog notices my presence and looks up at me with eyes too big for it's body. It lets out a small whimper, and my heart melts, my earlier anger being replaced with adoration.

“Aww~” I coo, kneeling down and reaching a hand out to pet the young animal. “Did someone leave you here?” I pout and my eyes soften as my fingers meet a fluffy coat of white. He ducks his head in trepidation, sniffing my hand to make sure I'm not an enemy. After a minute, with a hesitant step of a disproportionate paw towards me, he deems me safe, inviting me in to scratch him behind the ears.

“Poor little guy,” I mumble, using both hands to scratch the puppy's soft coat. “I'd take you home with me, but I don't think my mother would allow that,” I huff, and the puppy gives another whimper as if he knows what I'm saying. I continue to stoke the dog that could fit in my cupped hands, relishing in the soothing calm that washes over me. It's amazing how something as simple as an innocent young animal can make all of my worries vanish with just a touch. I stay hunched over the box for a few more minutes, until I hesistantly pull away, wishing I could just take it home with me.

“I'm sorry, sweetie.” I give the puppy my most regretful eyes as I straighten my now stiff knees and stand up. He whines at the loss of contact, giving me a high-pitched bark. I soften even more, if that's possible. “I have to go now, little one, but I'm sure someone will come for you soon,” I coo, almost reassuring myself more than the dog, who obviously can't understand what I'm saying.

The puppy begins to skitter around the box, clawing at the cardboard confines in an attempt to escape and follow me as I back away slowly. He lets out a few more cries, upset that I'm leaving. “I'm sorry!” I say one last time, hoping it will somehow appease him, before turning around to head back towards the playground. It's better to leave the animal now than let him get attached to me, I guess.

I wish my parents would have let me have a pet when I was little. As soon as I'm out of this house and on my own, I decide, I'm going to buy a pet. Maybe a cat, or a small dog. As my shoes brush through the dewy grass and then begin to crunch on slightly damp wood chips, I wonder what it would be like.

I take a seat on my usual swing, grasping the metal chains and tilting my head towards the sky. There's a thin but even coverage of clouds that paints the sky a bright shade of gray, and the intensity of the light combined with the falling mist makes me squint my eyes. I stay in this position for a few minutes, relishing in the calm that encompasses my body as my feet drag along with shallow swings.

I think about what it would be like if I would have had a pet when I was younger, if my parents were other people, if my childhood would have been completely different. Maybe I would have had parents like Gongchan's: strict yet supportive, stern but still warm. They'd be the ideal parents, and I would have gone on vacations when I was little, taken a day tip to a beach, holding my mother's hand as we walked along the edges of waves and collected seashells. She would have laughed when I exclaimed that the not-quite symmetrical stone I just picked up was just as pretty as she was, and she would have scolded me when I drug sand into the car on our journey home. It may have happened every summer, year after year, until I turned fifteen and was then too grown-up to be seen in public with my parents.

At one point, my mother really was kind and beautiful and warm like all mothers should be.

It just didn't last long. Just before my tenth birthday, my father left, and somehow part of Mom packed up her bags and took the flight to Japan right with him. And just like he never came back, that loving side of the frail woman that raised me failed to return as well.

Maybe someday they'll come back, and we'll take that day trip to the beach.

But for right now, both of my parents are somewhere near Osaka, and I think it's safe to say I'm alone. The shell that used to house my mother resides in the same home as me, but she's just the vessel that once held a caring woman. I believe that just as much as I'm waiting for her happiness to come back, she's awaiting it as well. She emits anything but life and happiness, but waits for it to return like an eerie, polished wooden coffin beckoning for an owner.

She's been on stand-by for seven years now, and she's wasting away her life and trying to make mine as miserable as possible while she waits. Well, maybe she's not trying to. However, days filled with alcohol-fired shouts and slaps do affect me, as much as I try not to let them.

My thoughts are halted when a large, cold drop lands on my skin, then another, and another, and another, until out of nowhere the drizzle turns into a full-out downpour.

I stop swinging and look down at my shirt that's starting to soak through, beginning to wish I would have grabbed my hoodie earlier. Deciding it'll be much faster to find nearby shelter instead of turning back towards home, I rush towards the other end of the playground and duck inside the mouth of one of the covered slides. I pull my knees to my chest, hiding myself under the roof of the bright blue chute. I suddenly wish I could be six again, because I'm too big for this and my shoulders are bruising against the hard plastic.

I stare out at the wall of water ahead of me, eyes wide as I cross my arms and use my hands as warmth for the now damp limbs. I plan on waiting out the shower, thinking that it can't take too long, right?

And then a thought hits me: the puppy.

Not really considering my own well-being, I dash out of the slide and run towards the cardboard box, rain turning my chestnut hair into heavy dark locks that drip into my eyes and only make it harder to see. My head swivels back and forth as I jog out towards the curb, searching for the box that should only be a few yards away, a few feet away, just ahead-

And there stands the guy that I seem to always run into, the one who seems to coincidentally be wherever I am at whatever time is most convenient to piss me off.

Sunwoo kneels in front of the box, in practically the same position I was in just minutes before. Wearing a black hooded sweatshirt, he's protected by the pouring rain that I'm vulnerably standing in, eyes squinted.

He's only ten feet away, yet he doesn't notice me staring as he reaches into the cardboard box and pulls out the tiny dog, pulling it gently into his chest. He shields the puppy from the water by ducking his head and cradling him in his arms, then quickly darts away in the opposite direction I came from.

I stand there dumbfounded, deflating at the fact that I missed my only chance to push the blonde bastard out in front of a bus for what he did Thursday night.

I huff and furrow my eyebrows, grumbling to myself about that stupid guy. And then I realize, I'm standing out in the middle of the pouring rain like some crazy idiot, my teeth chattering as I realize I'm shivering and my lips are probably purple.

When I get home, I strip down and throw my sopping clothes into the dryer, then opt for a pair of warm sweats and a towel to dry my hair.

I make an early dinner, boiling some pasta on the stove and adding some sauteed vegetables instead of the meat that I forgot to purchase this week. It's plain, because I didn't add enough seasoning, but it's edible enough and I set a plate aside for my mother whenever she returns home.

It's useless though, because by the time she arrives, it's nearly eleven o'clock, the sound of her fumbling with the lock waking me up from my current dream on the couch. The mute television flickers in the dark living room, and I squint my eyes and yawn as I pry myself from my comfortable position.

When I open the door for her, she nearly falls into my arms, dead drunk. I steady the light woman and help her stumble over towards her room, where she falls on the bed with a tiny thud. I can tell she's already out, so I sigh and fix her position so she's laying on her back, messy blonde hair splayed out on the pillow. I pull off her heels and tug the cover up over her dress so she doesn't get cold in the night.

Looking down at the woman I call my mother, make-up smudged and the scent of fruity drinks drifting towards me as she takes deep, even breaths, my heart aches.

I hate alcohol so much.

From this side of the bed, I take a moment to watch her sleeping face, looking for any sign of the cheerful mother I had when I was too young to remember anything clearly. There's nothing recognizable, though, so I sigh once more. I turn my back on her and flick off the light-switch, pulling the door closed behind me.

When I close my eyes that night and feel myself drifting off into a deep sleep, on a real bed this time, my last thought is me wondering if I would truly miss her if she would ever be gone.

[A/N]: Been a while since I've updated, huh? Sorry, guys, I've been busy~ With school starting, updates are going to be more irregular. I'll let you know in the next chapter approximately how many times a week I'll update from now on.

On another note, thank you so much for the lovely comments about my trailer. I worked hard on that. ^^ Also, thank you for the subscribers and comments on last chapter!

I was just assigned a beta as well, so hopefully the next update will have been reviewed by her. I'll credit her then. (:

Enjoy, and see you all soon. <3