"Dang it." I mumble quietly under my breath, my fingers tightening around the straps of my backpack as I kick at a pebble on the ground.

"Dang it."

I want to cry.

I'd studied so hard for that test. I'd stayed up late every night for the past month just to study, and get a grade that my parents would be proud of.

But stupid, stupid Mrs. Yoon.

She'd taken off five points because I'd forgotten to write my name.

Five entire, flipping points.

Because I'd forgotten to do the one thing that had nothing to do with the actual test itself.

I bite my lip, eyes stinging with tears.

I'd really wanted to get a perfect score. And I would've, if it wasn't for stupid Mrs. Yoon.

Then I smell a whiff of something thick and smoky. It hangs in the air like a gray fog— and at first I think it's the smoke from the factories.

But it isn't.

My eyes trace the wisps of smoke to a tall, dark silhouette in a narrow alley between the local fruit store and the laundry place.

I squint, blinking at the cigarette balanced between his slender, pale fingers. I can't see his face because of the angle of the light— only the thin, white smoking stick. And it was getting dark too.

My brows crease.

He was smoking.

Smoking is bad.

Shoving the crumpled test paper into the pockets of my cherry pink dress, I make my way over to the tall man. My arms are crossed firmly over my chest.

"Hey mister."

He doesn't turn to look. Was he ignoring me?

I raise my voice.

"Hey, mister!"

Finally, his gaze turns. And I can see his face better, even though it's still a bit hard under the dark hood he has pulled over his head.

I hear him sigh, as he tilts the cigarette in a different angle between his fingertips.

His voice is husky with smoke.

"What do you want, little girl?"

Little girl?

"I'm not a little girl. I'm actually twelve years old." I clarify for him, slightly annoyed. I might be small for my age, but I was definitely past the little girl stage.

He closes his eyes, before opening them again.

"Okay."

"And?"

"I just want to tell you that— that thing you have," I start, pointing up at his cigarette. "It's actually really bad for your health. I heard it makes your lungs go all black and you won't be able to breathe anymore. It also—"

"I can breathe just fine." He says, cutting me off.

I frown. Didn't he get it?

"Yeah, maybe for now, but that's not going to be true in a few years." I say, pursing my lips. Then I start rummage through the pockets of my dress.

"So actually,"

"I have something else for you."

Here it is.

His brow raises when I triumphantly pull out a lemon lollipop and present it to him. It was my last piece of Halloween candy, and I'd been saving it just for tonight, but it would be worth giving it to him.

"It's really delicious, and I'm giving it to you." I say, waving the candy in his direction. And with my other palm, I stretch it out in front of me.

"So give me."

He looks amused. "Give you what, child?"

Child.

My jaw flexes. There he goes again.

"The smoking stick." I say. "So I can throw it away, obviously. That thing's no good, mister."

He stares at me for a second. Then his expression softens a little, from the scary look he'd had in the beginning.

"You'll burn your hand."

"Keep the candy," He says, taking the cigarette out from his parted lips. "I'll stop."

Who was he trying to trick?

"No." I shake my head, voice firm. "How will I know you're actually gonna throw it away? And I think—"

"You're one distrustful little girl, aren't you?"

His eyes still fixed on me, he tosses the cigarette into one of the nearby garbage cans. I blink stupidly— I hadn't even seen that there.

"Satisfied?" He asks.

I nod.

"Then take your candy and hurry along. Your parents will start to worry."

Oh shoot.

I look around wildly. Being in the darkness of the alley with this strange man had made me completely forget about the time. The skies were already getting dark.

How had time passed so fast?

I quickly shove the candy back in my pocket, along with the rumpled test paper. Then just before I leave, I shoot him the sharpest look I can come up with on the spot.

"Don't smoke again, mister."

_______________________________

Aemin sniffs.

"Yeah, Mrs. Yoon is an absolute bugtard. She always did that with me too—"

He glances at me, tipping his head. A vicious smirk spreads on his foxlike features.

"Maybe she just hates you because she knows I'm your brother. Did I tell you that one story where I switched out her bottle of apple juice for vinegar? That one was hilarious."

"Aemin!"

Now I get it. No wonder why she always looked like she hated me.

"It's fine, baby." He laughs, messing with the top of my head. I frown, shoving him away.

"You're no help."

"A 95 is a score I'd kill for." He shrugs, before leaving the door. "I wouldn't honestly feel so bad, Aeri. Cherry ice cream?"

Ice cream?

My head flips up immediately. And my eyes are wide as saucers as I stare at my older brother. He shoots a playful smile back in my direction.

"You have money for ice cream?"

"I sure do."

"...how?" I mumble, my heart already beating with excitement. "B-But ice cream is so expensive. And mother and father wouldn't—"

He beckons me closer. I shuffle forward as he bends down to my height, whispering lowly in my ear.

"I work."

I whip around at him. I'm about to yell out a shocked what when he claps his hand over my mouth. His hand is so big that it covers my mouth, my nose— and almost my eyes, too.

"Hush, baby girl." He hisses, glancing back out the doorway. "If mom and dad find out there won't be any ice cream for either of us. Understand?"

I nod silently, eyes still wide.

"Good." He sighs, straightening himself back up.

"But how?" I say, nearly whispering. "You go to university all day. And then you have to go to— I don't know, that special academy or something at nighttime."

"I found a job that let me work really late at night."

Really...really late at night?

He glances at the clock. "So I'm going to get you some ice cream, and then leave for work, yeah? I trust you to cover for me if mom or dad catches on."

I nod excitedly. I could do that.

I was good at making up things. And I was pretty good at lying with a straight face, too.

Aemin smiles.

"That's my girl. Come on now."

"You deserve something sweet for doing so well on your test."

________________________________

I'm so happy.

The test that had made me feel so angry today— I can't even remember it anymore. I can't stop smiling, as I watch the shopkeeper place a huge scoop of rosy pink ice cream on top of a cone.

She hands it to me with a chuckle.

"Y'all made it in here just in time," She laughs, as I take the cone like it's treasure in my hands. "I was just about to close. How's your day been, hm?"

My brother gives her a polite smile.

"Very nice. Hopefully the same for you, miss?"

She laughs again, looking flattered. But I turn all my attention back to the ice cream cone, so stuck on admiring it that Aemin has to lead me out of the shop by my shoulders.

Then he curses softly under his breath.

And I look up in surprise to see his eyes fixed on his watch, expression shadowed. I tilt my head slightly.

"Aemin."

"Are you late to your work?"

He jerks back at me, shoving his fingers wildly through his dark brown hair. His voice is split with urgency and panic.

"I am. I didn't realize it had gotten this late— I'd thought I would have time to walk you back home." He murmurs, lips pursed tightly.

I take a lick at my cone.

"Aemin, I can walk back by myself."

"No," He says sharply. "It's already past eleven."

"But your job."

"I don't care," He hisses between his teeth. "He can fire me if I'm late— I'll just find another one. Come on, Aeri."

I peek over at his watch. It reads three minutes before eleven. And I glance back up at my brother, whose face is ashen.

I can already tell he won't find another place this lenient that'll be willing to pay him for a job this late at night.

"Aemin, I can go." I repeat, in a more firmer voice. "Our place is so close to here— I just have to go down this street and take a right. If you walk me, you're going to be late and you're gonna get fired."

He hesitates.

I pout. "Just go. I'll be fine. I'll even run if you want me to, so I get back home faster. It's not even that late either— there's still people around."

Aemin looks torn.

So I make the decision for him.

"Bye!" I call, starting to run down the pathway back home. "Have fun at work!"

I don't look back as I run, careful to keep my ice cream firm between my fingertips. I don't look back until I reach the corner I have to make a right turn on.

Aemin is gone.

I smile in relief.

Thank goodness. The walk wasn't even that far, and I was twelve. It would be so bad if he lost his job just to walk me back ho—

I crash into something that feels like a stone hard brick wall.

The impact makes me fly backwards. And I make a choked noise as I land hard on my bottom, my hands flailing out besides me. For a second I don't know what to do except to stare down at the sidewalk in front of me, feeling my brain is still rattling inside my head.

I would've rather wished I'd crashed into a wall.

A tall— tall man stares down at me with a chilling look in his eyes.

Eye.

One of his eyes are closed shut, a thick, red scar running across the length of it. And my throat closes shut with terror as my eyes slowly travel down to the front of his shirt.

My cherry ice cream is smeared straight in the center, dripping down the expensive-looking fabric and onto the cold cement.