Rated pg for failed fluff.

Length: ~2.2K

----oo----

It began as a childhood cliché.

Little Kim Jungae was only six years old when she saw the moving van parked outside from her Pokémon-plastered bedroom window.  Poking the Pikachu sticker on its glossy nose (because lightning style Pokémon are cool!), she jumped down from her Pikachu-themed covers and bolted out of the room.

“Umma, appa!” 

Jungae nearly smacked into her older brother Minseok on her way to the living room, ignoring the many yah!s  directed to her and plopped onto the couch, where her father was reading the morning news.  “Appa!”

“Slow down Jungae-ah, what’s got you so excited?”  Her father laughed, exchanging the papers for a lapful of the child. 

“Why is there a large white truck beside Mrs. Lee’s old house?” 

“The one right across the street from us?”

“Yeah!”

Mr. Kim taps a finger against Jungae’s nose, making her gurgle. 

“Looks like we have ourselves some new neighbours.”

“New people, greaaattt,” Minseok drawled from the doorway.  “Hopefully they don’t have a girl the same age and as annoying as Jungae here.”

“You’re the one who's annoying, Min-oppa!”

“Don’t be mean to your sister, Seok-ah,” Jungae’s mother scolded while carrying the family’s breakfast to the table. 

Jungae puffed her cheeks at her older brother, but immediately brightened at the sight of food. It’s Saturday, and as per Kim household rules, Jungae’s favourite hot cakes served with honey and milk sat waiting for her to dig in.

“From what I’ve heard, the family’s Chinese and they moved here because the husband transferred businesses,” her mother said over the clinking of chopsticks. 

“Then how can we talk to them, umma?”  Jungae asked.

“I’m sure they know some Korean to get by,” said her father. 

“Or Jungae here can teach them, with that weird little lisp of hers!”  Minseok snickered, dodging a piece of cake aimed at his face. “Yah, Kim Jungae!”

----oo----

It wasn’t until a week later that the Kim family, trailed by a jittery Minseok and a sniffling Jungae were standing on the steps of their neighbours’ house. 

Jungae fisted the fabric of her skirts miserably.

“Umma, I don’t wanna wear pink!”  The pouting six-year old pleaded to her mom, as she attempted to push down the offending piece of cloth back down to her ankles.

“But Jungae-ah, you look so cute wearing it!”

“I hate pink, umma!  I want to wear the blue shorts instead!”

“But blue is such a boyish colour and we’re going to the Zhang's very soon!  They have a son your age, don’t you want to look pretty for him?”

“Yesss! Their kid is a boy?”  Minseok bursts into Jungae’s room with a look of glee. 

Jungae could only sulk as her older brother whooped in happiness and yelled for his dad to ‘hurry up so I can play with the new kid!’ before leaving her alone again with that dreadful shade of hot pink.

Jungae felt like crying.

“Trust me Jungae-ah, they’re going to adore you in that dress," her mother promised.

A quiet ding! jolted her from the flashback, and she bunched the tulles tighter in her hands as the screen lit up with a stranger’s face.

“Hello! We’re from the house across the street and we wanted to welcome you to our neighbourhood!”  said Jungae’s father cheerfully. 

The man’s mouth formed into an ‘o’ of understanding, and then the screen went black.  Within seconds the metal door clicked open, and there stood a young man with a kind smile.

“Come in!  It’s nice to meet you!”  He spoke in soft yet stilted Korean, ushering them inside.  Noticing Jungae, the man gave her a smile and a small wave.  “That’s a pretty dress.”

Blushing, Jungae scampered to hide behind Minseok’s back, who only laughed at her current demise and ran after his parents, probably eager to find his new playmate.

After much reluctance, Jungae toed off her shoes and took a good glance inside the house. 

The interiors were painted a pale green, with many windows allowing sunlight to stream in and a large sliding door in the back overlooking the garden.  Furniture varnished a deep russet had little knickknacks placed on top or inside each of the cabinets. 

Sensing that the adults were chatting in the living room and Minseok was nowhere to be found, Jungae began to explore. 

The kitchen was a darling little place, she noted.  Sunshine yellow walls decorated with fruits and an island separating itself from the living room.  A few tapestries written in a language Jungae couldn’t understand were displayed in glass cases near the couches while the corridors were adorned with various portraits of the Zhang family.

“He’s the same age as you, you know,” a voice interrupted Jungae as she examined a particular one at her eye level.  She jumped around to see the same man from earlier, bending down to match her height and pointing to a smiling boy in a blue sailor’s uniform. 

She looks from the man to the picture, then to the man again.  Their smiles were identical to one another, as with their eyes.  They seemed to twinkle behind the bright lights.

“He looks very much like you, ahjusshi.”

Mr. Zhang laughed.  “You think so?”

“Yeah, see?  He even has that weird hole in his cheek, just like you!” 

Jungae’s finger covers the spot where the boy’s dimple was and then proceeds to poke at the same indentation in the older Zhang’s smiling cheek.