MOONCHILD / weak hero class 1.

TWO / Curl Up & Die.

He smiles when he realizes that she isn't going anywhere, and turns back for the last time before busying himself with whatever mess he's creating on the stove.

Cha Jaehwa learns that even though he tries, and he really does, Cha Si-woo has little talent for the kitchen.

She eats until she is full, and with a "Thank you for the meal," the teen returns to her room.

It is easier to ignore the remnants of the Cha Jaehwa of last month that stain the house with crimson fingerprints and her father's twisted frown, than it is for Jaehwa to admit her happiness is really just a struggle to find something she doesn't know how to.

Her bed is the only one that greets her coldly, and Jaehwa in turn accepts it warmly. They mold into a lukewarm embrace, and the girl is pulled into slumber once more.

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‎MOMENTS ARE FEW in which Jaehwa has the liberty to leave the house on her own whims. Si-woo and Boram keep a tight seal on the front door, and Jaehwa would rather not grapple with a 200-pound man or a heavily sleep-deprived nurse only for a few short seconds of bittersweet freedom.

Instead, it is Moon Boram that gives Jaehwa what little escape taking side dishes to Mr. Yeon in building 101 can provide.

The man is kind, or as kind as a divorced man can be. Jaehwa remembers greeting him in a soft murmur, hidden beneath her too-large sweater — Even as the sweltering August heat dug crevices deep enough to sweat a lake against her sunken cheeks — And pulling her beanie as though such a small act was enough to hide the remains of tragedy from her body.

She remembers how a boy her age, seventeen, maybe younger, trailed behind him, and she thought of the only good thing she could do — Smile and wave.

Maybe the boy would find her easier to look at if she plasters a smile onto her lips and a false cheer to her voice, and maybe that could make Cha Jaehwa believe she truly is who they say she is.

Building 101 of Dongbaek Apartments is just a short walk and an elevator ride away from Jaehwa's own unit. Perhaps that is the reason Moon Boram had been so lenient in allowing her daughter to spare a short walk outside.

Unit 902 is silent, despite her soft knocks against the thick metal door.

Jaehwa frowns and knocks harder. The cold afternoon breeze is prickly against her bare arms, and the girl regrets leaving her jacket hidden somewhere beneath piles of unfolded clothes and wadded-up, paint-stained paper.

At last, she hears beeping from the other end and the door creaks open.

A head of dark hair pops out, followed by a set of large eyes and chapped lips.

Jaehwa smiles awkwardly, swinging the plastic bag interlacing her fingers against the wind.

"Is your dad home?" She asks, subconsciously bringing her free hand to smooth down the hair on the back of her head.

The boy shakes his head. Jaehwa remembers Mr. Yeon introducing him, and faintly remembers being given a name, but it has slipped from her mind the way everything seems to these days.

"My mom sent side dishes." Jaehwa holds out the plastic bag and the boy stares at it for a long moment.

His eyes look too sad and tired to belong to anyone his age, but Jaehwa thinks she knows well enough what does and doesn't constitute what a teenager should be.