"Oof!" a woman winced playfully as a pad on her hand got kicked particularly hard. She winked at the kicker, who stepped back to prepare for another one. "You're fired up today, Sarah. Is it because it's your last time?"
"Aww~ don't say that, Sis!" a girl resting on the side whined. "I still wanna hang out with her!"
"But she's going to return--" the woman braced a flurry of punches followed by another kick,"--soon, aren't you?"
"Yeah," Lee Seul-ah exhaled slowly, managing her breath before nodding at the woman and ending the session.
The resting girl pursed her lips. "Must you really?"
"I've been away long enough," Seul-ah, who used Sarah while she was abroad, walked over to join the girl on the side and rest. She took the bottle of water the girl handed her gratefully and plopped down before drinking it.
The girl sighed in disappointment while playing with Sarah's braided hair. "Can't we hang out once before you're back?"
"Sure," Sarah said with a smile that came out easier than usual.
"Really?" the girl perked up; her tired eyes sparkled instantly.
"Let's visit that place you told me last time."
The girl gasped. "You're going to get a tat? Finally!" she clasped in excitement until the woman who became Sarah's training partner earlier looked up from her phone.
"Sarah, Mom said you should go to her office."
"Oh, come on!"
Sarah chuckled and patted the girl's head. "Let's meet in two days."
"Okay..."
She laughed softly at the disappointed sigh coming from the girl. She had been coming to the self-defense studio for five years now, going behind her assistant--or rather, her watcher's--back by disguising it as going to a gym. When she first came, the girl, Sera, was still a high school freshman, and they surprisingly became close.
Actually, it was surprising for Sarah that she could get close to anyone at all. It had become hard for her to trust people, and honestly...she never recalled any time in her life when she had a friend. Friends.
Sad, really. She was busy being a studious model student, and her siblings continuously poisoned other students' minds to make sure she was getting isolated. Finding people who didn't know who she was, didn't know her past, and only saw her as her current self and finding it appealing enough...it was liberating.
It seemed like going abroad bring more benefits to her than she initially thought. Perhaps...perhaps if she was sent abroad in her first timeline as intended, she wouldn't turn so stupid.
But, well...even this happy time had to end.
Sarah opened the door of the management office and asked straight away. "Did you find it?"
"So direct," the middle-aged director rolled her eyes and pushed a small folded paper to the edge of her desk. "Here."
Sarah took the paper, and while reading it, the director explained to her. "A friend of a friend of my brother--cousin, that is--found out where he used to live," she told Sarah. "It was a long time ago though, so I don't know if the owner is still the same."
"It's fine," Sarah nodded. She was doing it just because anyway, never really thought the director could find the information for her. She waved the note gratefully. "Thanks, Rae."
"Sarah..."
"Mm?"
The studio director looked at her keenly. "Just...be careful."
Sarah tilted her head. "I'm not doing anything dangerous."
"But you will, won't you? Once you get back," the director frowned. "Isn't that the whole reason you start to train in the first place?"
Sarah merely smiled. "Thanks again."
The director sighed while watching the young woman walk away. She knew Sarah was an adult who knew what she was doing, but...perhaps because of her petite stature, the director couldn't help but think of her as her daughter's peer. For five years, she could see the unchanging pain and bitterness nestled deep within Sarah's heart, and she was afraid it would become a poison that encroached too much to be healed in the future.
But what could she do? She was merely a director of the studio she frequented. That, too, supposedly ended the moment Sarah passed that door.
* * *
As soon as her assistant--the watcher sent by either the first son--left the next day, Sarah immediately took a journey to a small town, following the address she got the night before. She had nothing much to do until she left the state next week anyway, so might as well.
"Is this it?" she looked at the small neighborhood bar in front of her. It looked old but well-kept, giving her hope that the journey wasn't a waste. Seemed like the kind where people came for snacks and to chat, not just to drink mindlessly.
"Excuse me," she pushed the slightly heavy door and peeked inside. "You're open, right?"
"If the sign says it," a dry answer came from behind the counter.
Sarah entered the place and looked around a bit. As if applauding her effort, there was no customer at that time, perhaps because it was too late for the lunch break and too soon for after-work depression. She walked straight to the counter, sitting in front of who she presumed to be the owner; middle-aged, dark circle, looking like he couldn't give a fuck about anything anymore out of exhaustion.
Looking like he had been nailed there since before Sarah was born. Perfect.
"Your order?" the man asked; a bit kinder, perhaps because Sarah chose to sit where it was easy for him to serve.
With a sweet smile and a light-hearted tone, she replied. "A virgin cuba libre."
The man narrowed his pale blue eyes.
"And something about that boy," Sarah pointed at the bulletin board behind the bar. It seemed like a community board filled with neighboring people's notes, letters, or announcements. Several photographs were pinned there; holiday celebrations, New Year events, and the bar's workers.
Including a picture of a woman and her good-looking son. The boy was only around ten at most, but Sarah could easily spot the nice features and captivating grey eyes.
Yeah. She had been inquiring about Ryu Hajin.
Sarah still had no idea whether she wanted to accept Hajin's offer--or if the man would still be open for hire when she returned--but...it was bothering her. Why Hajin wanted to work for her, why Hajin was working for her family in the past before disappearing completely, or even why he was in Helios at all.
All she got from Lee Sol was that Hajin came from the state and knew a lot of martial arts from different countries. She didn't mean to at first, but she saw his picture in one of the director's albums. Still young, probably in his teens, but undoubtedly Hajin--unless he had a twin. Might as well, she thought, and started to look for his information.
The man frowned slightly and asked in suspicion. "Who are you?"
"Someone who knows Jin," Sarah smiled. "Don't worry, he's not in trouble--neither does you."
"Then why are you looking for him?"
"Let's just say...it's a part of his job interview," Sarah slid a rather thick envelope across the counter.
The man eyed the money-shaped envelope. "What--like a background check?"
"Well..." Sarah shrugged, the simple smile never left her lips.
"Huh..." the man blinked twice before shaking his head and exhaled. He took a Coke from the cooler and poured it into a glass, before placing it in front of Sarah. "Well, it's not like I know much anyway--need a lemon wedge too?"
"If you could."
While slicing a fresh lemon, the man looked up and exhaled slowly. "Where should I start?"
The man didn't lie when he said he didn't know much. Hajin and his mother came to him after being introduced by someone else; they lived above the bar, on the third floor, for a few years. The mother worked in the bar during the night, playing the music and helping with accounting. When the owner had a falling out with the person introducing them, Hajin's mother felt uncomfortable and guilty for staying there, so they left, even when the owner said they could stay.
"Haven't heard from his mother since...I don't know--five, six years ago?" the man shook his head. The shift from dry to melancholic tone told Sarah that he was quite fond of them.
But five or six years...that would mean around Hajin's appearance in Helios.
"You keep corresponding before then?" Sarah asked curiously.
"Cards and such," the owner nodded, pointing at several postcards pinned around the pictures. "I only knew they were going from country to country--no idea what the mother did as a living or their real condition. The postcards themselves sound normal, and since you're here for him...well, at least I know that the kid's alive."
"Hajin...he's never contacting you, then?"
"Nah," he shook his head. "Well, we're never particularly close, and the brat's not a compassionate type."
"Yeah..."
Sarah recalled the Ryu Hajin she met in her previous timeline; the expressionless, cold one. She remembered people talked about him as if he had no feelings and only did what he was told, but also ready to leave at any time--like a lone wolf.
For some reason, however, Sarah couldn't bring herself to see Hajin as that kind of person. Was it because of how playful the man was that morning before her flight? Or was it because of the pitiful gaze the other Hajin gave her?
"Well, thank you for that," Sarah nodded and stood yo after emptying her cold glass.
"Hey,"
"Yes?"
The owner chewed the inside of his cheek. "You said it's a job interview, right? That means you're going to work with him?"
"Perhaps," Sarah shrugged. "I don't know yet."
"Well...just in case you do," he pushed the envelope back. "I don't need this, so can you just tell me what happened to him and his mother after they stopped contacting me?"
Sarah smiled and reached out her hand to pick up one of the bar's lighters lined on the counter, with the place's landline written across. "Only if I find out."
The owner stared at the thick envelope left behind before belatedly looking at the young woman already walking to the door. "Uhh--thanks!"
Sarah waved her hand before leaving the empty bar, exhaling heavily while looking at the bright summer sky. "What should I do now?"
* * *
"Oh! It comes out good!" Sera clapped excitedly as the tattoo artist wiped the last area she had just inked.
"Of course, it is! Who do you think I am?" the tattoo artist flicked the girl's forehead, before shifting back to Sarah, who carefully put on her shirt again. "But you hold on well, girl. Not many would start with something this big."
Sarah looked at her reflection in the mirror; the area around her right shoulder and her upper arms were covered with a figure of an ornamental whip. The end of the cracker curved nicely following her prominent collarbone, and the handle nestled in the middle of her upper arm, tied by a cord with a broken jade hanging from its end.
The same broken pendant still hanging around Sarah's neck.
On the whip's handle, a certain date was added: the date of her mother's memorial; the date of her second chance.
"Sarah is good at holding her pain," Sera said, hugging the older girl from the left side.
The tattoo artist arched her brow. "Inside or outside?"
Sera glanced at Sarah's dull black eyes. "Both?"
"Sad," the tattoo artist shook her head.
"It's so I can unleash it at once when the time comes," Sarah said calmly.
Too calmly that the tattoo artist sighed and said once again. "Sad..."
Sarah laughed bitterly. "It's the only thing that keeps me going."
"I pray you find something else along the way," the tattoo artist patted her other shoulder, and Sera tightened her hug slightly.
"Yeah," Sarah stretched her numb lips and number heart. "Me too..."