Chapter 8
The morning sunlight spilled across the dining table where Anna and Minjun sat, chopsticks ready for battle. A single dumpling remained between them.
"That's mine," Anna declared, her lips curling into a teasing grin. "I woke up first."
"Noona," Minjun whined, pouting. "You're already stronger. At least leave food for me!"
They wrestled with their chopsticks, laughter echoing through the house, until Anna triumphed, popping the dumpling into her mouth with a smug smile.
From the doorway, their father watched silently, his stern features softening. A trace of a smile touched his lips.
"You two… just like your mother," he murmured, almost to himself.
The siblings turned at his words, blinking in confusion, but he quickly cleared his throat and straightened his posture.
"Bye, Dad!" they called out together, cheerful and unaware of the weight behind his words as they hurried off to school.
---
That same morning, Yo Chan remained sprawled on his bed when the door creaked open. His mother entered with a tray of steaming breakfast. Her hands were gentle, her face marked with quiet worry.
"Yo Chan-ah… did you do something again?" she asked softly. "Your father looks tense because of you."
Yo Chan sat up, annoyance flashing in his eyes, but the edge dulled when he saw her concern. He forced a smirk.
"Don't worry about me, Mom."
She sighed and stroked his hair, her touch tender. For a moment, the mask slipped from his face, but he quickly hid it again behind that crooked grin.
---
At school, Seirin chatted with two classmates in the corridor.
"Seirin, you were amazing that day, organizing everyone with the cloth," one said brightly.
"And your friendship with Anna… I like it. You two are strong together," added the other.
Seirin blushed, ducking her head with a shy smile. The words filled her with a warmth she didn't know she had been waiting for.
---
Later, the classroom felt different than usual. The teacher lectured calmly, and the background hum of students quietly studying, giggling, and whispering created a rare sense of peace. For the first time in what felt like forever, the school seemed calm.
---
During lunch, Anna tied her hair into a ponytail. From the doorway, Yo Chan lingered, his expression unreadable as his eyes followed her.
Seirin noticed instantly. She leaned closer and whispered, "Anna… he was staring at you."
Anna turned her head, but by then Yo Chan was walking into the room, feigning nonchalance.
Seirin grinned mischievously. "I think he's starting to like you."
Anna smirked, amused. "Are you mad? After that punch? You think he can love me?"
They both broke into light laughter.
Across the hall, Yo Chan paused mid-step. The sound of their laughter reached him. His hand clenched at his side, though he said nothing.
---
That evening, the house was quiet until Anna overheard voices drifting from the living room. She froze when she recognized her father's voice, low and grave.
"It wasn't an accident," he said to an uncle seated with him. "Anna's mother… she was murdered."
Anna's blood ran cold. Her hand pressed to the wall for support as her father's words continued.
"That's why I can't let Anna live the same way. Fights only bring blood."
Her heart pounded as she ran silently upstairs, the truth crashing against everything she thought she knew.
---
Restless, Anna wandered the streets later that evening. She stopped at a small shop, distracted and unsettled, only to bump into a familiar figure.
"Anna," Song Kyeo greeted warmly, his smile soft. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm… okay," she muttered, though her mind was far from calm.
They spoke briefly, his steady presence a welcome relief against the storm brewing inside her.
---
Meanwhile, at Yo Chan's house, the boy pushed open his father's empty room. A drawer had been left ajar. He moved to close it but stopped when he noticed a photograph tucked inside.
Curious, he pulled it out. His brow furrowed.
The photo was of Anna's mother.
"…Who is she?" Yo Chan whispered, confusion rippling through his voice. He slid the photograph into his pocket, a secret now bound to him.
---
That night, three different rooms carried the same shadow of mystery.
Anna sat at her desk, her mother's picture glowing under the faint lamplight, questions gnawing at her heart.
Seirin scribbled in her diary: Anna hides something. I can feel it.
And Yo Chan sat by his window, fingers tight around the stolen photograph, his eyes reflecting a storm of curiosity.
Three lives, tangled by the same secret, inching closer toward the truth.
But the truth had teeth—and when it surfaced, it could tear everything apart.
---
End of Chapter 8