After a whole morning and afternoon of being holed up at the library yet again, she’s on her way back to the Kim residence when she sees a young woman, dressed primly with white skinny jeans and a floral blouse, standing on the front step. No, it can’t be. Soojung blinks in disbelief. Sooyeon? No - no, no, we lost contact with her ages ago, where has she been? And most importantly, why is she here now? And the tears (of confusion, of relief, of happiness? – she doesn’t know) threaten to spill over but she instead steels herself for the encounter.

The woman turns around. It is Sooyeon indeed. Prettier, now, if that’s even possible. “Soojung,” her sister cries out, rushing toward her. Soojung stands still as if rooted to the ground. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry,” and she wipes the tears that have escaped down Soojung’s cheeks, only to make her eyes water even more.

“Things were really complicated and I’ll explain later but I’m so glad that I read the news online the other day. Imagine my surprise and relief when I saw your name in the article,” Sooyeon is gushing now, and Soojung had almost forgotten what it feels like to have a blood-related person by her side. “Soojung? Come with me back to California, you don’t have to stay here,” her sister begs.

She just stands there dumbly, deep in thought.

“Please, I’m stable there now. I have a house, a job, everything. We can be together again.”

But Soojung isn’t sure if she’s ready for this, if she ever will be. Sooyeon had left to study abroad for high school and college. It still baffles her, how they lost contact, how she could just disappear like that without a word. How she could leave Soojung behind to deal with everything herself. She’s bitter, yes, but looking at Sooyeon now – big eyes pleading, hands holding hers – no, she doesn’t hate her sister. She can’t bring herself to, not when her sister is her only known relative right now. But the timing is off, she knows.

“I can’t, I have a purpose here,” Soojung says with such conviction that it surprises even herself.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s still some stuff I have to do,” she explains, regretful. “I can’t leave just yet. I hope you can understand.”

Sooyeon looks closely at her. Thinks, pauses. “Alright, sis,” she smiles. “Take care of yourself though. When you’re ready, well, call me.” She hands Soojung a slip of paper with her phone number.

Soojung had forgotten how understanding her big sister always was. And for that, she is grateful. “Thanks, unnie.” Her arms wrap around her older sister in one last embrace before seeing her off. She is so tempted to go with her, to finally feel at home again, but she makes herself wait just a little while longer.

“Love you,” Sooyeon says. “You can talk to me any time.”

Soojung nods, smiling to herself, her hands tightening around the leather-bound notebook in her grasp.

Little does she know, that Jongin is in the living room, window open by coincidence, and had heard and seen every single thing.

"What did you mean yesterday?" he murmurs all of a sudden, staring at her from his spot across the couch. The house is quiet, and it's almost unnerving how much he's gotten used to the dull buzz of background noise in his life. The fan is turned up to full, and he thinks Soojung looks pretty with her hair blowing against her cheeks as she tries to concentrate on some book she obviously does not want to read. "Soojung," he prods, nudging her with his foot.

"Hm?" she glances up and ignores the way his legs slowly tangle into hers. "Mean what?"
"When your sister dropped by," Jongin replies (she doesn't miss the touch of a grin on his lips at how she's hesitantly resisting the way his feet play with hers). "You told her you didn't want to go with her because you were here for a reason."

“How do you…?” her voice trails off, eyes widening in surprise.

“I hear things,” he replies nonchalantly, hoping she doesn’t find his eavesdropping offensive. “It’s not like you were talking in private anyways.”

“Oh,” is all she can manage. She wonders if he was curious because he hasn’t been around a sisterly presence in a while, but in any case she hopes he's too distracted to notice the way she's having a hard time answering, and she guesses he is because when he finally pulls away and leans back into the couch, he closes his eyes and sighs.

"What's wrong?" she dares to ask, as if it would change the subject.

"Nothing," he murmurs, running a hand roughly through his hair before looking over at her. "Are you still upset about what my parents said? Because I thought we went over this already..."

"Why would you think that?" she her head to the side, setting her book aside (not that she was paying much attention to it anyways with Jongin staring at her).

"I don't know," he purses his lips. "You seem out of it... It's like you don't even want me talking to you let alone touching you or anything..." His voice trails off, and she feels a tinge of guilt because it's not that he's completely wrong with his assumptions.

She's been thinking long and hard about this, about where to go from here, about what to do. Soojung wonders sometimes if she's afraid of the impending future looming over them, or if she's scared of the past that's discoloured everything for her already. Either way, his parents' words are still ringing in her ears and she wonders if his "I didn't mean it" excuses have any truth in them.

In the end, she doesn't think people change. And Jongin was always uptight and stressed out over all the business responsibilities he would be getting soon. She used to think she could soften him up (she still hopes she can), but it seems useless. She's bad for him, she gets it, she just wishes she wasn't.

"My dad used to say that sometimes the most dangerous things are the things you can't see or feel or even fathom," she starts slowly. There are feelings in her heart, aching words that need to be heard and the way Jongin's ears prick at her voice, she knows it's time she gets this off her chest. "I didn't care before, but then he died and I realized he was right."

"I'm not following," he chuckles a little, but his grin dies down when he notices the pain etched in her eyes. "You don't have to talk about this you know?" He reaches for her hand, but she pulls away.

"Jongin, you don't even know," she whispers and she doesn't know what hurts more, that he's completely lost or that he will be even more lost after she speaks. "What do you know about me? What do you know about my dad? Nothing, right?"

He's silent, just quietly watching the way she curls up on the sofa, moving further and further away from him. There are tears in her eyes and he just doesn't get why. What is she talking about? Why is she suddenly emotional? "I guess not," he mumbles, shaking his head slowly and the way she bursts out into a sad laugh is like a spear through his heart. "Soojung – ”

"My dad died because he worked at your factory, because he was mistreated, because your dad was such a cheap that he couldn't even ing update his security protocol, and–" she gasps for breath, ignoring the way Jongin's face goes stone cold. "He died because he was the only worker who had to do overtime because he had a family to support, debts to pay, daughters to raise. Not that he got paid fairly for any of his hard work."
Something in Jongin's expression shifts, and the way his eyebrows furrow and his jaw tightens makes her scared. "What the are you talking about? Don't go spouting nonsensical things just to dump your problems on someone else."

"You don't even get it, do you?" Her voice is a few octaves higher, and the house is suddenly even quieter, her pained breathing the only sound echoing through the halls. "You never had to see your dad slowly get sick, you didn't have to ask him if he was okay, you didn't have to beg him to take time off to rest, you didn't have to watch his stagger off to work late at nights just to make enough money to put food on the table." She's crying now, the memories are still too vivid she realizes. "You will never ever have to watch your dad die slowly, painfully... and helplessly watched, day by day, wondering what more you could do."

"Soojung, calm down," he grits his teeth. "Is this because your sister came over? Do you want to leave?"

"Oh my God!" she yells now, getting up off the couch and chucking the book in her hands at him. It hits his arm and falls dejectedly to the ground, just like all her feelings. "Of course you wouldn't understand, you're so spoiled it's not even funny–"

"Shut up," he seethes. "I swear to God, if you say anything more about this–"

"What are you going to do?" she prods, slowly backing up when she sees his hands ball up into fists. "Fire me? Just like your dad fired my dad for being sick and useless on the job?"

"I said–"

"I know what you said," she smiles bitterly. "You want me to shut up? Just like your dad tried to shut my dad up by getting rid of him, hm? Because it's so much easier to destroy your problems before they destroy you, right?"

"Are you trying to accuse my dad of something?" Jongin hisses, and Soojung can feel her heart falling apart because it's not Jongin's fault, he should've never been involved in any of this, but he is. And as much as it hurts to see him so frustrated, she knows this is the only way to get her point across.

"Maybe I am," she shrugs. "If saying your dad was indirectly responsible for my dad's death is considering accusing, then yeah I guess I am."

"Listen," he mutters, "I don't know what you're trying to prove here, but I don't give a –"

"Just like your dad."

"If you say that one more time–"

"What are you going to do, Jongin?" she whispers, wiping away her tears. "You can't do anything." She turns to walk away and she's not even surprised when she feels his hand grip her wrist.

"You can't just walk away, you can't just say like that and then walk away Soojung!" he yells. "You can't just be so vague... like what are you trying to get at, what does your dad being sick have to do with anything, I don't–"

"Just stop, Jongin," she whimpers, pushing him away softly. "I tried to stir the pot a little, vandalise the factory, hoping maybe they'd reopen my dad's case and notice the truth that was there all along. But now I'm here, and I came here with a purpose and that purpose was not to fall in love with you."

"Soojung, I–"

"My dad was right," she smiles softly, retreating towards the door. "Love is the most dangerous thing, isn't it? You can't see it, you can't feel it, but it's there. It's the silent killer and Jongin... I'm not ready to die."

"What are you even saying," he cries out but she's already gone and there's no strength in him to chase after her because in the mix of anger and rage in the pit of his stomach, there's the soft turmoil of emotions because in the end he feels it... the symptoms of love sickness, the slow dagger that slides its way down his soul. And in that moment, he realizes he can't be so weak. Soojung was wrong for him anyways, right? He knew this long ago, right? So then he shouldn't care (he chants it over and over and over...), but it doesn't make him feel any better.

Soojung glances back once at the looming house in the bright afternoon sunlight. She waits three seconds, and when she realizes he's not coming after her, she sighs, tells herself that this is what was meant to be and slowly staggers off. She feels bad for Jongin, taking over a business with all this hidden toxicity, but she's told him what she's needed to already and she can't do anything more to help him.

She knows chaos is about to go down, and she does not want to be around for it. Her heart just beats a little slower because she wishes she didn't have to leave him.
 

It hits him like a brick, that Soojung's gone for real. A lot of her belongings are still in her room but he knows it doesn't feel the same. It feels empty, like his heart. His parents aren’t home, yet again, and for that, he feels thankful because he doesn’t need them breathing down his neck again. So he spends the night alone for the first time in a long while, no one to hold, his sheets cold and impersonal. It hurts real bad, barely having anyone to lean on. He still has Sehun, of course, but somehow – somehow he’s yearning for something, someone more.

The next morning, he's sitting on a swing in the front garden, trying to forget her, forget them, forget everything, when –

"Jongin."

His ears perk up at the voice. Surely it can't be...? It's a woman's voice, sounding a bit more mature than the one in his memory, but it's got to be the same one. He turns around –

His breath gets caught in his throat. Suddenly, a headache starts coming on and he doesn't know what to feel. "Noona," he chokes out, and he almost wants to cry but knows that he can't.

He had loved Ahreum, loved her to the point of hating her when she left, overcome by bitterness. The hurt was compounded by the fact that the subject of her was taboo in the house; it's like she had never existed at all. He wonders if she would have stayed if he had been a good enough little brother. He wonders if he's ever been good enough for anyone.

(He had been, for Soojung, but he's failed yet again – he doesn't even need to be surprised anymore.)

He gulps, taking her in. She still looks about the same – classy, hair up in a messy bun, nails perfectly done – and yet there's a certain glow about her, something that has to do with the vibrant smile on her face and he doesn't remember her aura being that captivating. It scares him, because these past two years, all he's been doing is imagining how she was doing, and somehow he can't make sense of the reality before him now.

She's looking at him strangely, but she doesn't make a move. "I'm back."

And he wants to cry out, why? If she hadn't bothered to stay in the first place, why did she come back now? Right when he thought he could forget, his whole world gets flipped upside down yet again. He never planned it to be this way. He was supposed to be strong, in control, professional –

Ahreum steps forward, wrapping her arms securely around his torso. Jongin stops his train of thought, only registering the way she breathes warmly into his ear and murmurs that it's alright, that she wants to help him, that she wants to be there for him again. Any previous resistance he had fades away as he melts into her warm embrace and it feels like he's 10 years old again, hugging his noona before she goes off to school in the morning. A tear rolls down his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Jongin, for leaving you," she whispers, and she's also getting choked up.

He doesn't care, now. All he knows is that she's finally back, and it feels like a piece of his heart has finally been made whole again.

They’re eating brunch over the dinner table and it brings back memories of his childhood, just spending time with his sister. It almost makes him choke up in tears.

“So…why did you leave?” he says, after much thought. The question is killing him – he wants to know why, what was so good about whatever it was that made her go. His entire two years of waiting is hanging onto this moment.

“Jongin,” Ahreum looks at him, lips pursed into a thin line. “I didn’t leave for the reason that everyone said I did.”

He furrows his eyebrows, confused. “It wasn’t about your boyfriend?”

She smiles. “No, not him. It was someone else.”

Jongin is thoroughly perplexed. He picks at the bacon on his plate.

Ahreum breathes in deeply. “It was about dad.”

“What – ”

“He was doing some dirty business. As someone who was going to run the company later, I couldn’t bear to be part of it unless he stopped the shady practices,” she explains, and Jongin’s pulse is racing – wait, this sounds familiar, could it be –

“He didn’t follow security and safety protocol, saying that it was too expensive and complicated to carry out. He didn’t even bat a freaking eyelash when one employee complained he was getting sick and instead just fired him on the spot.” Her words are soaked with venom, and it scares him, how she is so adamant about this.

She continues, “Our father thought that severing that man’s ties with the company would free him from any suspicion, and he was right.” She wears a disgusted grimace on her face. “No matter how much I tried to convince him that all of this was wrong, he would never listen to me. He wouldn’t listen to his own daughter. His dear beloved daughter who did everything for him. But it’s not about me, really. It’s about the injustice, the horrible consequences of his selfish actions. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Something clenches in his chest. Suddenly, he remembers Soojung’s words – how her father had fallen sick and got fired and had later died – and his heartbeat starts quickening, a bitter taste in his mouth. She was right. It sickens him, how he had written her off without thinking, how stupid he must have been to think she had been lying. But it sickens him even more to think that he had been blind to his own father’s shady practices, how he had dumbly followed in his footsteps and believed his father’s every word.

He’s afraid to ask Ahreum more, but he knows that he can’t bear living in the dark any longer. “How…?”

Ahreum takes something out of her purse and slides a crinkled newspaper article across the table. “Read this.”

His eyes scan the title. KIM MATERIALS FACTORY VANDALISED BY DELINQUENT. He inhales sh