Minwoo forced himself up the stairs at school, head spinning. He got dizzy very easily nowadays, and that did not help his sense of balance. So he was not surprised when he stumbled and fell, his bag dropping from his shoulder and hat landing on the steps. Students passing by slowed and gawked, whispering to their friends and subtly pointing in his direction. Shamed and embarrased, he smacked his hat back on his head, covering the scars and bald spots. That was one positive look on the attack. No one would get after him for wearing his favorite cap during school. Before he could grab his bag, a helping hand lifted the load. The blond shouldered it himself, a rare serious expression dominating his face.

Minwoo's mouth curved into an easy grin. "Youngmin, I have a head injury, not two broken arms. I can carry my bag."

"I know," Youngmin said casually, "but let me carry it to the top of the stairs. Then you can have it back. This will be my good deed for the week."

Minwoo shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat."

"Cool. Now hurry up. This bag is heavy. What do you put in here?"

The younger boy laughed and made his way up the stairs, secretly relieved he didn't have to carry the extra burden. "People who annoy me."

Youngmin wrinkled his nose. "Why would you want to keep around people who annoy you? Doesn't that give them more opportunity to, you know, annoy you?"

Minwoo gave him a slow smirk. "Who said they were capable?" They reached the top of the stairs and moved into the hallway to make room for other bustling students hurrying to class.

"What did you do to them? Gag them with a dirty sock? Yeah, that'll teach them." Youngmin handed back the bag, which Minwoo shouldered. Their steps slowed considerably. It had been awhile since the friends had spoken, and despite their strange conversation, neither wanted to end it. At least they were talking.

"How about cutting out their tongues?" Minwoo suggested nonchallantly. "Fry it up."

It took Minwoo a moment to realize that Youngmin had stopped walking. His face was screwed up in disgust. "That is so gross."

"Actually, my first thought was that I could just kill them. The reason I'm lugging around their body is to dispose of it."

"Minwoo, just -stop." Youngmin's wide eyes and twisted grimace displayed his horror; the eyebrows slanted upward over searching eyes expressed his concern. That was when Minwoo realized that he had let some of his darkness slip out, had let his guard down and had revealed the result of his inner shadows. The old Minwoo had never talked like that, much less been able to think it. He would have worn the same expression Youngmin now did had he been in the other's position.

"I-I'm sorry, man," Minwoo spluttered, looking down at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know what came over me..." That was a lie. Minwoo knew exactly what is was that made him this way. But that was another thing he did a lot more lately -lie.

"Hey, normally I wouldn't suggest this, but... wanna skip class?" Now Minwoo's eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock. "I only say it because we haven't really, you know, talked. Since then. And I feel kinda bad, like I haven't been there for you. And I miss you, bud." Youngmin focused his intense stare at Minwoo, as if daring him to laugh or make light of the sensitive feelings he had just laid bare.

It was so Youngmin.

Minwoo smiled gently, genuinely touched. "Thanks, Youngmin. But if you feel like you haven't been there for me, then it's because I don't need it right now. I'm seeing this really awesome counselor." That made Minwoo pause and chuckled. "Geez, never thought I'd say that. I mean, we used to make fun of those shrinks. But this guy is really cool and I'm doing a lot better now than right after I woke up in the hospital." Minwoo lightly punched his friend's arm. "So don't worry about me. I'll talk when I need to."

The crease in Youngmin's brow softened and a smile touched his lips. "Alright. I'm glad you know I'm here for you. And so are the others."

"I know."

And where that conversation should have ended, Youngmin hesitated, as if he had something else to say. "Have you heard anything from... from Kwangmi?"

Minwoo's face drooped, a darkness seeming to wash over him. "No. I haven't. There's been nothing."

Youngmin nodded sadly in understanding. "Maybe she doesn't know what to say."

"But she was there, too!" Minwoo exclaimed, hot anger feeding his sense of betrayal. "It's something we went through together! I heard she was at the hospital the entire time I was in surgery, during family visitation. She never left! And the moment she was told she could come see me, she high tailed it out of there." Bitterness turned his heart sour. "How could she not want to see me?"

The older boy shifted uncomfortably, mulling that information over. "Maybe..." he started, continued to think some more, and began again. "Maybe she feels guilty."

"Why would she feel guilty?"

"It's like you said, you were the one in surgery. You're the one who got hurt. Maybe she's feeling survivor's remorse or something. You were the one walking her home. Maybe she feels guilty, like it should have been her. And she doesn't know what to say to you."

Even though that made sense to Minwoo's brain, it did nothing to ease his grieving and scarred heart. He grumbled out, "She could at least text me and ask if I'm okay."

Youngmin nodded in agreemnt. "Yeah, maybe she should. Have you tried to contact her?"

Minwoo picked at a loose thread on his bag. "No..."

"Hey! Boys!" yelled a teacher coming around the bend. "What are you two doing out of class?"

Slowly, the boys realized they were alone, the bell having rung without them noticing.

"Sorry sir," Youngmin apologized. "We were-"

"He was helping me get to class," Minwoo interrupted. "I forgot my way for a second and got lost."

The teacher looked doubtful. "I know it's the beginning of school, but you are old enough to find your way to class after two weeks."

Minwoo sighed and pulled off his cap, reavealing his healing injuries. "I forget sometimes, sir. I can't help it. I promise to do better in the future."

The man's face crumpled with embarrassment. He spluttered out, "I- uh, I... Okay. Just, be careful and quickly be off to class."

"Yessir," responded both boys, walking to their classrooms. When they were out of sight, they high-fived.

"Dude, that was brilliant!" Youngmin congratulated. "But do you really get bouts of amnesia?"

Minwoo snorted. "No. At least, not more than I used to before the attack. But hey, might as well use this to my advantage while I can."

 "I'll say!" But then Youngmin sobered. "But what I was saying about Kwangmi. It goes both ways. Maybe you should shoot her a text."

Inwardly grumbling, Minwoo relented. "Yeah, okay."

At that moment, they entered class, giving neither a chance to discuss the topic further.

As it happened, Kwangmi did not have to discuss what caused her nightmares the next week at her second therapy appointment. Instead, her therapist wanted to go over goals that Kwangmi wanted to achieve. The primary ones were to be able to cope with the negative emotions she had (such as sorrow and anger, guilt and fear) in a healthy way, be able to interact with others normally again, and in general get back to being happy like she was before, especially about things that used to give her joy such as her photography. A specific one Kwangmi mentioned was to stop the nightmares she had. She was nervous revealing that bit of information, though that was the prime reason Kevin had wanted her to see a therapist in the first place, even if he didn't say it. She just didn't want to be looked at funny. But Ju Mie didn't even bat an eye. She simply wrote it down on her treatment plan and asked if there was anything more. There wasn't. By the time they had gotten all that out of the way, and Kwangmi had deliberately dragged it out, they only had about fifteen minutes left of their session.

"Well, I wanted to go over what caused you to start these sessions, but I don't think we'll get to that today. So I think now would be a good time to go over some of your options." With a questioning gaze from her client, Ju Mie continued. "From what you have told me about losing pleasure in activities that used to give you joy, I believe you are experiencing what is commonly referred to as situational depression. Though I also believe there is more to it, I think we can help with the depression bit for right now. We have a psychiatrist here who can prescribe you a light antidepressent. I'm not saying you have to; some of our clients are against medications and I won't force you to do anything you're not comfortable with, but the option is available if you would like it."

Kwangmi nodded in understanding and thought about her answer. "I would like to see if these counseling sessions will help first. If it turns out that I need something more, or my depression is more complex or severe, then I would be inclined towards trying an antidepressant."

"That sounds perfectly reasonable to me," Ju Mie affirmed enthusiastically. "Now, is there anything you want to say before we go?"

At first, the girl started shaking her head, but then a thought did come to mind. "Um, awhile back ago, I began getting these letters. Strange letters."

That peaked Ju Mie's interest. "Strange how?"

Kwangmi shifted uncomfortably. "Well, they started off as sort of admiration letters, then evolved into love letter type things..."

"I don't see how that's strange at all," Ju Mie grinned. "It is hardly unexpected for a girl of your beauty to receive love leters from boys too shy to actually give them to you."

"It's different from that. It's from one boy, and he signs it 'Your Secret Admirer.' At first I thought it was cute and didn't think anything of it. But then they became... different. Creepier. I can't explain further than that."

"Do you still have them?"

"Yes. I can bring them by next week. The only reason I bring it up is because they're making me uncomfortable, and I would like someone to know."

"Thank you for telling me this, Kwangmi. Maybe we can work something out. Do you have any idea who they might be from?"

The girl shook her head. "Not a one."

"Alright then. We can work it out next week. Until then, try photography again. Take some pictures of old things. Maybe you will find joy in it again eventually. I'd also like to see the pictures you take, if that's okay with you."

She smiled. "I would love to show you."

With that, the session ended and they bade goodbye to each other. Contemplative and quiet, Kwangmi took the bus home. She didn't notice the shadow tailing her from the counseling agency to her neighborhood. Nor did she notice what it left taped the the door mat.