—First life. Jung Family's Residence, year 2027—

Memory is a strange thing.

I had always believed that my mind functioned the same way as a giant cabinet, as though it was sectioned in different drawers and shelves where I could file away pieces of my memories. And I would be able to decide which ones to keep and to look back to whenever I needed, or which ones to store away in the deepest ends of those storages for me to never look at again. But memories, whether good or bad, would still find their way to creep back out from the imagery storages I have created for myself when least expected.

Just like the one that came uninvited the minute I stood in front of my old house.

Our old house.

The house where Hoseok and I grew up in, where we experienced all the early lessons in life, and where our family had once lived in harmony and peace. Once. And right the moment I stepped out of the car and stood facing the old house—the house that somehow looked pretty much the same except for the fresh painted walls, rusty mahogany floorings on the porch instead of the fresh wooden ones that used to welcome us home, and the bright coloured roof tiles as an exchange for the old dusty discoloured ones that was vividly recorded inside my head. I felt as if I could physically see my younger self running out of the house, all in rage and with tears of my broken heart the way I did on the very day I left it, bags in hand that were filled with the only belongings I could reach for in such haste before I lost every bit of the self-restraint I had left. I could even hear the door slamming behind me the same way as the day I ran away from it, and the faint sobs that came out of me as I reached further and further away down the street.

"Are you alright?"

Hoseok took a step forward to stand by my side, placing his hand on my back to soothe away the tension that had taken over my whole body. He had a concerned frown when I turned to look at him, letting me know that he could read my worries of facing that painful past.

"I'm okay. I will be," I assured him, forcing a smile just to make him believe me—even if I could not trust my own words as I voiced them out loud. "I just need a moment. It's been so long since—"

Hoseok smiled at me, nodding his head gently while gently stroking my back. "I understand. Take your time, you don't have to force it."

"No, I—" I stopped and took a deep breath, turning to face the house again as I tried my best to muster all the courage I needed. "I have to do this, Hoseok. It's now or never."

His smile turned a bit wider with pride as he stroke my hair gently. "The decision is all yours to take. I'll be here for you no matter what happens."

I took a few deep breaths before I finally made my move, taking the few long strides of footsteps towards the porch. Although right when we were finally there, we could only stand side by side in silence. My body suddenly felt as heavy as lead when I was about to knock on the wooden door. I took a moment to control my emotions, rubbing my sweaty palms over my thighs repeatedly before I finally gave the door a few knocks. It didn't take long until I heard footsteps coming towards the door, the familiar faint sound of a female voice answering with, "I'm coming," and I had to take a sharp deep breath to prepare myself to face a painful part of my past.

My hands were clenched on my sides when the door was opened wide, revealing the thin small woman standing inside. No words were said as we looked at each other, allowing me to have a moment to study her face, tracing the lines around her lips and eyes that had become a clear evidence of her old age, and the bags under her eyes that were possibly there from the exhaustion of the years she had spent working and facing hardships through her life. I traced her hair with my eyes, studying the few strands of grey hair that lined with her natural coloured ones.

How many years has it been? It felt so damn long already. Even though I realised that it might not really have been that long since I had last met her. But the marks of old age and the passing years that appeared on her figure spoke louder in reminding me of how much time have passed since I left.

I looked into her eyes—the pair tired eyes that were staring back at me with a wide gaze, filled with mixed emotions as she was either surprised of seeing the sight of me, amused at the moment, and perhaps remorseful of our past—to see tears brimming on their corners. And I didn't need a mirror to see that I was sharing the same look in my own eyes as I looked at her.

"K-Kara. H-hello—"

She blinked her eyes a few times before responding to me, as if she was in a complete trance from seeing me actually standing there right in front of her. "_____," she eventually greeted me once she finally managed to collect herself, before forcing a smile. "You're really here," she said. Her face beamed with astonishment and relieved.

She kept one hand gripping hard on the door while the other was clutched on her side, as if she couldn't decide what to do with them, knowing that it might not be right to share a hug in such an encounter. Honestly speaking, judging from the whole circumstances between us, it would be weird to ever share a space together at all.

"I-uh, I'm sorry. I was—we've actually been expecting you. Hoseok had told us that he is coming home with you, but—" She briefly shook her head instead of continuing to speak and stepped aside to make way for us to enter the house. "Come in, your father is waiting."

I didn't make any move aside from turning to meet Hoseok's eyes. He was staring at me with an apologetic smile on his face for what Kara had let me know just now. I was quite surprised to know that everyone knew we were coming. I should have probably expected to have him informing them about our homecoming, and I guess it had slipped my mind as I was focusing more in gathering my will to actually come back here after so long. He had always wanted to take me home, always wanted to reunite me with our father, perhaps to reconcile and to mend everything that had been lost.

It was quite unfortunate that the only reason why we were finally there was nothing of a sort. Nothing that would serve as any form of reconciliation between us. But as I was finally here, so close to meeting him, I found myself slowly hoping that perhaps we would also be able to fix some things that had remained broken for many years.

Hoseok gave me a reassuring nod, telling me that it was alright to come in and to remind me that he was there to have my back. So I finally turned and took that first step of entering our home with a long deep breath to give me that little push.

There was a hint of a mixed scent of old wood and dampened fabric as I made my entry, before the moistened air was replaced with whiffs of scent from warm food and sweet drinks. It felt like I was walking through a long dark tunnel that brought me back to the past, reminding me of how this house used to be, of what used to welcome me whenever I came home to my family—to my mother who was humming in the kitchen as she prepared for our meal, to the warm and bright dining room where I would run to each time I came back from school, and to her smile that never failed to appear on her face, no matter how hard that day was for her to endure.

Today was different, as I had to face a reality that was far from the nice memory I wished I could have come home to. Because the moment I stepped into the inner part of the threshold, finding my way into the dining area, it was the sight of my father's back who was there facing pots and pans in the kitchen which I caught on immediately, welcoming our presence.

Such a rare sight to be seen, I began to wonder, when I remembered how he would never step foot in the kitchen unless dinner was already served. But then again, the man had become such a stranger to me ever since the day I left. And it had been so long after all, that I realised how I would never really know how much everything had changed.

"Father," I gently called out to him. The voice came out a bit shaky and foreign as it came out before I had even prepared myself to speak.

The man grew stiff, evidently taking a deep breath by how his shoulder briefly shook before turning around. I was instantly met with the familiar sight that bore the same traces I saw from the woman who had welcomed us. His face was filled with evident lines of old age. His hair was mostly grey and a lot thinner than it used to be, despite how his body still appeared strong and built, and unforgivingly healthy. But the glint in his eyes seemed so vulnerable as he took a sight of me standing there in his dining room. For the very first time in my life, I felt guilt residing inside my chest when I saw them.

I have been gone for too long.

His face started to light up after moments of studying my face, while his eyes were soon filled with tears without fail, a complete contrast to how his smile grew wide the minute he spoke,

"Welcome home."

Nothing was said between us in the following 20 minutes, when my father and Kara finished up the cooking while Hoseok and I were left with our tea. We were sent to sit at the dining table to wait for them as they refused our help. The silence continued even after they returned with the whole meal and have them set on the table. The only words being exchanged for the remaining dinner time only came from my father as he offered us our food and asked for our thoughts on his cooking, in addition to his tale of why he had come to learn how to cook and how he had spent time learning the recipes.

I tried to enjoy the meal while occasionally sending awkward glances at my brother. Neither of us had any ideas of what to say or how to start the conversation which we needed to have. Not sure if it would be alright to just state the real reason why we were here when the man—and his companion—were still showing their warm welcome to us both pretty much excessively.

Should we ruin the moment so soon? Or should I make sure that they feel comfortable with me being here first before I drop the bomb?

Hoseok only gave me a soft nod and a pursed smile when he too felt the intense awkwardness in the air, and the tension appearing in each person sharing the table, even as we were merely exchanging courteous conversations while savouring our meal. It was hard to ignore how estranged we all had been, how it felt least like home but more of a table full of strangers. And I knew right then that the more we tried to ignore it, the more it was killing every single one of us inside.

Time was ticking, and soon the dinner would be over. So I took a deep breath to try and start changing the subject before the moment passed and it would become too late. "Thank you for the meal. The food tastes really good. Do you always do the cooking yourself?"

My father raised his face with a smile. "Ah, I only cook when I have time to. But your stepmother here always helps out. She does most of the cooking while I do this as a way to de-stress, a way to distract my mind from all the exhaustion I got from work," he said, taking Kara's hand in his with a proud smile. "I insisted to cook today after Hoseok called us about bringing you home, and I wanted to make your favourite dish to celebrate."

I glanced briefly at Kara, meeting her eyes and instantly turned away when I could feel my chest tightening at the sight of their entwined hands. As I looked away, I still managed to catch how she pulled her hand away from my father's through my peripheral vision, knowing that it made me uncomfortable. But I knew my father never even cared for it when he continued to speak as though everything was completely normal.

"I told Kara that if you would ever come home then we have to make the dish, and I have to be the one to make it," he said with a chuckle. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I feel somewhat accomplished."

"You really shouldn't have gone into so much trouble," I muttered out of courtesy, still looking down to avoid staring at him directly when I was still flustered by what I just saw.

He only shrugged. "Why shouldn't I? I have been waiting for you to come home, so this is a special night for all of us. I even confirmed it to your brother first to know if you still favour the dish before preparing it," he said, laughing, before offering me another portion, which I refused. My stomach felt so full at the thought of telling him what I needed.

"It's really nice to have a good home-cooked dinner, since both of us have been too busy to cook ourselves," I told him, glancing at my brother who then told everyone how he tried to cook the same meal for me and failed. Everyone laughed along, before silence came back to us and my father's face changed at the mention of me living with my older brother.

"So you really have moved in with your brother," he said while hiding the expression on his face by staring at his meal and continue to eat. "For how long?"

"It's—been a few months, Dad. So much has happened—" Hoseok answered him carefully while glancing at me. I had told him to spare the details of either my current condition and the plight in my marriage from our father, just so I could be the one to inform him, so he was being cautious as to not let anything slip out accidentally or to explain things the wrong way.

"A few months? And you never told me this?" Our father raised his voice, letting his utensils fall on the plate as he pointed a finger at my brother. "We even spoke on the telephone nearly every weekend and you never told me."

I watched how my brother slowly cowered away, leaning back in his seat with gritted teeth. He was about to apologise when I cut him off,

"I asked him specifically not to tell you, Dad. I wanted to talk to you myself."

My father sighed heavily, only glancing at me briefly before giving his full attention to my brother. "Was that the reason why you didn't come home for the holidays? You said that you couldn't come cause you were having an event."

"I did," Hoseok began to answer. "I had a small event for my colleagues and clients as a gratitude, and—"

"Were you there?" my father turned to me without waiting for Hoseok to finish his sentence.

"Yes, I had already moved in with him at the time. I helped him with the party since I knew some of the people who were invited."

My father's lips formed a flatline. "I've been trying to get you to come back home, celebrate the holidays with us," he said. His eyes seemed saddened as he stared at me. "I'm a bit hurt to think that my own daughter refused to let her family know about her life. And for my son to not say anything even when he comes home for vacations."

"How would you expect me to come home when you never tried to contact me?"

The words slipped out of my mouth before I could even stop it. Despite all the regrets of shutting him from my secrets and my life, I could feel the anger building inside me from watching him cornering my brother with guilt. The split seconds of outburst was a mistake and uncalled for, I realised it immediately. I was ready to apologise just when I became aware of how harsh my words had come out, until my father cut me off,

"And you never even bothered to try and call home either."

All eyes were set on the both of us when we grew silent. Neither my father or I looked away after our exchange. "No, I haven't. But it wasn't entirely my fault, was it?"

Hoseok shifted in his seat, reaching out to hold my hand to stop me. But I couldn't. I wouldn't. For the first time since the whole hour we have been in this house, added with the many years in our lives since we parted ways, we finally had a chance to voice out all the things that we had been keeping deep inside. The one thing that we could never do in the past and had me leaving this house many years ago.

Hoseok and I came here for a different purpose. But deep inside, we already knew that this would happen if we should ever come back here. I guess there was nothing stopping us from having the long-postponed conversation, the one we should have had many years ago. And if to reconcile also meant to open up old wounds, then I certainly would never mind it at all. Especially when I was dying to voice out the one secret that had been eating me inside for years. That, and the huge misunderstanding that followed. I was too young to voice it out then, and I have kept them for too long.

"Then what? Is it my fault, then?" my father scoffed. "Fine, blame me. Throw all your anger on me." He put his utensils down, just so he could wave his hands around as he spoke, "I can never understand why you are always so angry at everyone in this house. At me! I wasn't the one running away when they are being told to grow up and act like an adult!"

"Shouldn't I?" I could no longer stop myself from raising my own voice. It was impossible not to when it came to facing him. He had always been able to trigger something deep inside me to boil over. And that was when the words that I had kept inside my chest and my mind ever since I was really young escaped my lips, "How could I not respond to you with anger when all you do is shout and yell at me when I try to speak to you?"

The man slammed his palm on the table and nearly shouted when he spoke, "I welcomed you into this house and this is how you repay me? Accusing me of things?" Everyone tensed at the sight. I could feel the familiar fear I have had of him appearing once more inside me, the same one that the young version of myself had felt so many times while living in this house. My hands were clenched tight on either side of my plate when I shivered under the tension, each nails stabbing the skin of my palms as I tried to control myself. I didn't have to look up to know that my brother might be doing the exact same thing.

"You walked out of this house and made a complete mess, ruining your mother when you chose to run back to that wicked boy, ruining this family by being such a selfish little brat. And where did it get you? Where is that no good husband of yours now? Even your damn choice have failed you and now you're trying to put the blame on me? Only now that your marriage has failed, you come back to me, to your brother, after years of leaving us and hurting us when we tried to help you."

"That is not why I am here!" I unintentionally slammed my palm against the table top when I responded to him, suddenly felt enraged when he spoke ill of my marriage. Yes, my life had been a complete hell. Yes, my love life has fallen out of my control. And for years, I had never tried to reach out, knowing that he would say the exact same thing as today if I had asked for help. But I couldn't take it anymore, not when he knew nothing of what kind of pain I have gone through. "And helped me? Helped me how? You pushed me away when things didn't go exactly how you wanted it to."

I could feel myself trembling with anger, but I planted my hands harder on the table as I pushed myself up from my seat. I glared directly into his eyes, completely ignoring the pain on my palms and the rush of pain on my back as I stood up abruptly just to speak up to him, "Have you ever listened to me back then? Have you ever looked at me? Or at Hoseok? Or at Mom? Have you ever tried to understand what it was like to live with you? To witness you getting angry all the time, every single day, and sometimes being afraid of just staring directly at you as you enter the same room as where I was, afraid that you might find something to get angry at and blow up on us even when we have done completely nothing at fault?"

I could feel every part of my muscles tightening up, every inch of my body shook with anger and pain. And I didn't even care. The more the memory of myself growing up in this house under his wings started coming back to me, the more I grew angrier. Every emotion I had kept for so long kept flowing out through the words I had never been able to speak of when I was younger.

"Do you even know why I had chosen Jungkook over this family? Over you? It was because of you! Because he was a far better option rather than having to spend my life longer with you. He might have hurt me, Dad, and sometimes he even reminds me of you and your anger issues. But at least he knows how to ask for forgiveness. He knew it then and he knows it even now. And he knows how to say the word 'sorry' and understands what it actually means." I stopped to control my breath and to stop myself from shaking so much. The pain in my body was becoming too unbearable that I nearly fell over, saved by how my palms were planted on top of the table to hold me up.

"Do you know why I came here? I came here for Hoseok. Because he was there when I needed him, because he listens and he asked me to come here for you. I came here to see you, to give us a chance and talk to you like two normal adults because I need us to do just that at this exact moment. I needed you. I'm here because I need your help. And honestly, I am utterly regretting the fact that I actually had hopes. That I even thought about trying. I shouldn't have even tried."

With a long deep breath, I forced myself to leave. My whole body was still shaking when I pushed myself off the table, and my legs felt like rubber beneath me. But I had to get away.

My father fell silent and was completely sat frozen on his seat. I couldn't see his face or Kara's, but I saw how Hoseok leapt up to stop me, perhaps already noticing that I was so close to tumbling down.

"____, wait," he called me with a strained voice, but I rushed faster to leave the room. I couldn't care less about where I was heading to. All I wanted was to get out of that room before darkness came to take over the way it had always come to me when I felt the same rushing pain in my whole body. I could feel it coming already, so close as my body would not stop shaking. I kept walking away while praying that I would not fall in front of their eyes.

Not in front of him.

I kept walking while praying that I would not be defeated. Not this time. Not now.