Zico looked at Kasumi in the eye and said seriously, “Because that was the same day my father killed your mother.”

[flashback]

Little six-year-old Kasumi was wandering aimlessly around the house when she bumped into her mother, Nobuko, in the living room. She looked up and was about to say something when she noticed the sad expression on her mother’s face.

It was the same look Nobuko would have on her face every time she was thinking about Kasumi’s father.

Nobuko was staring aimlessly outside the window, but it looked as if she wasn’t focusing on what she was supposed to see outside but rather what she was thinking about in her mind at the moment.

And that was her husband, obviously.

Kasumi didn’t know how her father looked like. There weren’t any pictures and asking her mother about it would only make her mother fall into further depression. The institution was helping, at least. She could see some progress.

Her mother used to be a woman who never walked out of the house, not even to buy groceries. She used to, because she knew she had to feed her daughter. But then one day she accidentally picked up an old photo of her wedding day and the memories flooded back. She began to slip away, ignoring her daughter, who was only three at that time. Kasumi was used to being ignored, but she wasn’t used to not going on a day without food. She was so hungry. There was practically nothing to eat or drink and Kasumi was too young to go out by herself. They practically starved, Nobuko crying over the loss of her husband and Kasumi crying because of starvation.

The neighbors heard and called for help because the crying was just too loud for anyone to sleep. The next thing Kasumi knew, she was placed in the orphanage while they took her mother away to the institution. She met a friendly boy named Changmin and grew close to him. He would follow her to the institution to see her mother. After three years of being in care, Mr. Lee agreed that Nobuko could go home and take care of her daughter for a week, just for starters.

Once they got home, Nobuko began to clean around the house and Kasumi would help in whatever ways the six-year-old girl could. Finally, the last thing they had to do was to go grocery shopping. Nobuko used to leave Kasumi in the house but because of the separation, she wanted to spend at least some quality time with her. So she took her daughter out to the hypermarket.

“Okasan, can we buy a lot of fish?” Kasumi asked, swinging her legs on the seat. She was so small that her feet couldn’t touch the ground like the way her mother’s did, try as she may. “I want to eat fish.”

Nobuko smiled thinly. She was still exhausted and drained out but she nodded, pleased to see that her daughter was still smiling. Kasumi had always been quiet, because she never really had anyone to talk to and wasn’t used to talking to people at the orphanage. But she was glad whenever her daughter would strike a conversation with her. “Of course, darling,” she replied, ruffling her daughter’s hair affectionately.

“I want milk too.”

“Sure, Sumi-yah.” Nobuko smiled and leaned over to kiss her gently on the head before smoothening out the tangles in her hair, letting her fingers run through the softness of Kasumi’s hair. “I’ll buy whatever you want.”

Kasumi beamed, happy that her mother was smiling and talking to her. Even though they didn’t say much on the bus ride to the hypermarket, she didn’t care. She was happy to see her mother. She missed her every day when she was gone. Although they weren’t close, Kasumi still loved her mother very much and knew she loved her just as much. Everyone always did say Kasumi was observant.

Once they got to the hypermarket, Nobuko led her to a counter where a lady behind it was attending to a customer. She kneeled down until she was eye-level with her. “I trust you to be able to find whatever you want to eat,” she said.

Kasumi nodded, not fully understanding what she meant.

“I want you to look for whatever you want to eat. Okasan will buy it all for you.” Nobuko pointed to the clock. “See the arrow pointing up between the one and two and the little arrow straight at three?”

She nodded again.

“When the big arrow points at three as well, I want to see you here, okay? We will meet each other again at the cashier here in fifteen minutes time,” Nobuko went on. She pointed at the counter again. “That’s the cashier. Meet me there later. Do you think you can do that? Oh, and, since we’re outside, don’t speak Japanese. Not many people will understand Japanese. Speak Korean, arraso?”

“Deh!”

Nobuko smiled at her daughter’s cuteness but Kasumi was really determined to speak Korean while they were out. “Kaja!” she said, pumping her fist in the air before she stood up. “Now, go, my darling.”

Kasumi hugged her mother’s legs, taking in her mother’s familiar and comforting sense, and smiled brightly. “Saranghae!” she said before she ran off to do her ‘grown-up’ shopping. She felt excited, a sense of thrill bubbling inside of her.

She walked here and there and whenever someone asked her where her mother was, she would reply, “She’s waiting for me at the cashier!”

Then they would smile and comment on how cute she was before they let her carry on with her shopping.

Zico was sleeping when he heard someone yelling. He sat upright in his bed and shivered. His father was home. And it sounded as if his father was bored, again. Which meant he was very angry.

The door burst opened and his mother rushed inside. “Your father is back!”

“I know,” he said sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

“Do not say anything that will make him upset.”

Zico didn’t know what she was talking about. His father loved him. His father absolutely adored him. Even though he was afraid of his dad, he still loved him. He hated what his dad does for a living, but he knew if he said something, he would be kicked out of the house. But nevertheless, he nodded. “Deh.”

His father walked in, frowning. “Why are you asleep at this hour?” he asked Zico. “Get up now! Don’t sleep.”

Zico jumped off the bed and saluted him. “Yes, sir!”

Zico’s father, who called himself Zeus because he wanted to be compared to the Greek God of the Skies, smirked. He was the one who had taught his son how to salute like a soldier whenever he would appear. “Good boy.” He noogied Zico gently and looked at his wife. “I’m taking him out with me.”

“What? No! He’s too young to go on with another one of your missions!” she protested. “Oppa, I don’t like hearing stories about you messing around with those innocent lives.”

“Oh, please, woman,” he scoffed. “How else do you expect me to get the money from, huh? And besides, my boy is a lion. He’s old enough to come along. Besides, he wants to spend a day with his father, right?”

“Will Uncle Choi come as well?” Zico asked eagerly. He liked his dad’s best friend. He was a cool guy, but his daddy was cooler.

“Yeap! Let’s go!”

“Oppa . . . be careful. Jiho is only a boy,” she said. “Please, why don’t you just stay home today?”

“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.” Zico’s dad picked