Mark sighed when he opened his apartment door, he kicked his shoes until it scatters around the room—screw it, he was in no mood being OCD about things right now. The weight of training bag on his shoulder became twice heavier just when he decided to throw it on the floor. He let his body slumped down on the living room’s floor, having no energy to make it to his own room.

Things didn’t went well that day—starting from the super late wake up that caused him to get thrown out from his fist class, forgetting his wallet and make him end up begging Jackson to pay for his lunch, accidentally knock down a bottle of pomegranade juice onto his fade blue jeans right on the —and it was cold, wet, and sticky. He thought the day couldn’t get worse when he accidentally fell as he tried to catch the bus home, and just for his luck he was seated beside a drunk woman—who looks like around thirties—who cling onto him for her dear life, making people on the bus look weird at him.

Enough is enough, the entire day was a mess and he couldn’t think straight. He forgot a lot of things and somehow he still felt something was bothering him the whole day but he couldn’t really put his finger on it. Mark checked his scratched right wrist, it was painful but he thanked heaven for not letting it sprained. He needed the wrist to do martial arts and he couldn’t risk hurting it.

Mark was just this close to dream when he heard cute little voice calling him ‘Mawkie... Mawkie...’ and some weird sound he couldn’t even catch. Mark forced open his eyes when he finally realized what’s been bothering him all day long, and eventually, the little voice was coming from a small creature the cute little Jirongie making his way to slip under his flanel shirt’s chest pocket.

Mark was eyeing the pocket Jirongie who was having a hard time to found a way to get into his Mawkie’s pocket, Mark could see those frustrated crinkles on little Jirongie’s forehead and few cute foot stomping out of frustration. Mark wanted to just watch the pocket sized Jirongie tried hard by himself because his angry pout was the cutest thing in the world, but soon it was replaced by a frustrated sob and Jirongie dropped himself on his with tiny legs spreaded out.

“Jirongie?”

Looking at Mark who was awake, the sob turns into loud cry and Mark hurriedly scooped little Jirongi on his hand to sit on his palm.

“Mawkie... Mawkie...”

He cried, he rubs his two eyes with his two hands, his white skin turned pinkish red and Mark felt a little guilty.