Sungjong is dragging his oversized suitcase behind him. It’s oversized because he’s tried to cram as many memories into it as he could. His mother’s favorite blouse, his father’s first tie. The costume from his first stage performance. The memories are just as heavy as the patchwork mess of case, and Sungjong has to stop every few moments to catch his breath. He wishes he could have found a case with wheels, but only this broken old thing was disgusting enough that maybe, just maybe, those horrible people wouldn’t miss it.

Just like they wouldn’t miss him.

Sungjong is sitting at the bus stop when he realizes he’s forgotten something. Well, it’s not the first thing he’s forgotten. But by now it’s too late to go back, and his fingers feel bare without his mother’s promise ring. He rubs his father’s marriage ring against his mothers. “You guys will have to do from now on, okay?”

He ignores the tears that stream down his cheeks.

Sungjong has a total of four hundred and twenty seven dollar in his pockets, but the bus driver won’t accept any of them. Sungjong manages to choke back his tears long enough to thank him, before dragging that suitcase to the back row, and letting his head drop against the glass. He’s asleep by the time the bus rolls out from the station.