‘I’m sorry,’ he says, ‘I’m sorry that I turned away back then.’ He isn’t used to apologizing but the words come tumbling out before he can stop them, jumbled and in disarray, just like his thoughts. ‘You only wanted to be close with someone… but who pretended not to know you.’

She looks up at him, all care for the world non-existent; timeless as only a child could and they –both of them- could’ve been sitting in his dingy little apartment over a meager dinner for all that she cared. ‘What does that mean?’

Her words cause him to smile and it feels odd on his face, like something that doesn’t belong, but it comes almost naturally to him then. He knows he looks as terrible as he feels and maybe worse but for that moment with her, he felt he could’ve stood there for an eternity. ‘I don’t know either,’ he replies with what little mirth he could gather.

Something on his face must’ve shown because she suddenly brightens up, ‘This is the first time I’ve seen you smile,’ she declares, and it reminds him of all his time with her when she would pester him until he finally gave in to something or the other that she wanted. And yes, he does realize that they had never shared a smile until that moment. And it could very well be their last.

He isn’t one for idealistic dreams or wishes. He knows what waits for him. His hands are stained with too much blood for any other possibilities regardless of who’s it had been, well deserved or not. His throat feels tight and something prickles his eyes but he ignores them. Not now. ‘You’ll be alone, you know,’ he tells her and he can see in her eyes that it was something she had known but refused to accept. It’s heartbreaking but he trudges on, for both their sakes. ‘You can do it, can’t you?’

Its funny how you realize that you always have a little innocence to lose every time.

 So-mi doesn’t remember all that happened; she has vague recollection of faces she saw, flashes of memory that would trigger at odd times and leave her trembling. But it wasn’t anything time couldn’t heal and they would fade from memory. She was fine, physically; she could slip back into society and no one would spare her a second glance, just another face in the crowd.

 Except for the nightmares; terrible debilitating nightmares. They came almost every night at first, waking her with a scream in and thrashing limbs, a choking fear of loss and a fate worse than death. The dreams got better, eventually, but they never really went away, always lurking beneath the surface, always waiting.

She’s just faking it, whispers would say, she just wants attention. Just like her mother. And maybe they were right. Maybe the nightmares and the trauma were never there to begin with. But they could never understand. She couldn’t forget, she wouldn’t forget. Not when all she had of him were the memories of time they had spent together.

The first years were the hardest. With no family or any fortune to speak of, it hadn’t been long before she had been put in an orphanage - a proper orphanage among other kids who had never experienced a mother’s love either. Despite that, it wasn’t easy to make friends, not when the rumors and whispers always followed her. The whole debacle had been covered up, she would learn when she was older; to save face and the respect of society, the police had made a cover up story of an undercover operation that had ended with two rival gangs in a shootout. Or something, So-mi didn’t care. She knew the truth and for her, that was enough. But stories always had a strange way of twisting the truth and children would follow the adults’ footsteps.

She always moved from one home to the other, never staying for more than six months in one place. So-mi knew that the detective had a hand in all her days at the homes, despite all his denials and effort to reduce their meetings as much as possible.

 

If you love someone, So-mi remembers hearing, you’ll let them go, and if they come back then they’re yours.

But if you really loved someone, she thinks, why wouldn’t you wait forever until they did?