Everything is on fire.

The smoke smothers her lungs and she gasps for fresh air, her vision marred with amber that would otherwise look beautiful against the hazy background. If only it isn't licking up the world around her, if only it isn't climbing up her skin - if only the heat around is something that provides her warmth and protection, rather than something that burns every fibre in her body. She wants to feel safe right where she is, but now it's where her terror survives. If she gets to live through this, will this be what she'll have to remember for as long as she's breathing?

I don't want to live anymore.

I don't want to live to remember all of this.

She doesn't want to feel pain as the flames get higher, she doesn't want to open her eyes to capture the falling world around her. She wants to go away as quickly as possible, not by suffering as her supply of oxygen is cut short, as her body becomes the fuel to the fire that's ravaging everything she loves.

With her limited vision through her half-closed eyes, the view gets fainter, either due to the smoke that's getting thicker or the state of her brain that has slowed down its gears. She can't move a muscle from fear, or it may be her giving in to her fate that's locking her in place. The tears that flow from her eyes seem to evaporate quickly from the intense heat while she calls out their names, which get swallowed in her throat that feels like it will collapse any time soon.

Am I really dead, for is that an angel that's coming towards me?

The angel calls out her name, but her lips are too dry; they feel like they will crack the moment she opens her mouth. She gets picked up, hugged close and instead of ascending towards the sky, she is brought down, away from the raging fire and the collapsing structure. It feels like she's being stripped away from everything that she has known as the angel brings her far, far away. As she's held close to the angel's chest, she searches for comfort, she searches for the pair of eyes that would tell her that everything will be alright. She is put down, the words of her being safe wrap around her before the angel cries, holding on to her hand.

Why is the angel crying when it's supposed to be me?

What if I didn't want to be saved?

"Byul-ie?" a tiny voice fills her ears, which floods her senses and her immediate response as she opens her eyes is to cry, the nightmare - the memory that had turned into a monster that terrorizes her every now and then - too much for her to bear. As she sobs she feels two small hands cupping her cheeks and helping to wipe away the tears so she grabs them gently.

"Byul-ie, did I make you cry?" the voice asks again, but as she shakes her head to refute it, she cries harder. "I'm sorry if I made you cry, please don't cry. I'm sorry."

"No, no it's not you Hwayoung. I just had a bad dream, that's all. It's not your fault I'm crying." She sits up straight before she cups the little kid's face, the former's face decorated with her dried-up tears. "You're a little angel that won't hurt anyone." As she looks into the child's eyes, she sees the eyes of the angel that had saved her, that had brought back the life she thought she had given away.

Those pair of eyes that I would never forget.

"Are you feeling alright?" a man's voice comes from the direction of the door, and she looks up to see Seonghwa at the door, his hands holding a basin filled with water and a towel. He looks relieved to see that she has finally woken up, and he puts down the basin on the bedside table. "Hwayoung didn't want to leave your side until you woke up, even when Yunho begged her to go to sleep. She slept beside you and held your hand every time you stirred." He places a hand on Hwayoung's head, and she sinks back into his embrace.

Seonghwa picks her up and says, "You promised that you would go to sleep properly once Byul wakes up, so will you keep your promise? You have to be ready for kindergarten."

She nods with a tired smile, putting our her pinky finger. She links it with Seonghwa's and exclaims, "Of course, uncle! Hwayoung is not someone who breaks promises. See you tomorrow, ah, no it's already tomorrow." She giggles, "Bye Byul-ie, please don't get hurt again." She tiptoes and pecks her on the cheek before running off, leaving Seonghwa and her in the room.

She realizes that she's in Seonghwa's room, and even from a glance she can feel his personality radiating in every corner of the space.

Her heart does a little flip when she sees a framed picture of him and Akira on his desk as she's reminded of their meeting at the tattoo parlor. The single picture seems to depict their relationship at best; where Akira had put on her best annoyed face, while Seonghwa was beaming, but even with their contrasting expressions, their arms were wrapped around each other. At another corner of his room, it seems that he has his own personal cleaning supplies, all arranged neatly and look like they're used at least twice a day.

"I'm sorry," is the first thing she says, but she doesn't know the exact reason why she's apologizing. Somehow she feels the need to, that she feels like she's being a burden to them; like she always has been to others.

"Ms. Han, there's no need for you to apologize," he tuts, dipping the cloth in water. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I just feel useless. The only things I seem to know how to do are only crying and fainting," she manages a slight chuckle. "It's no wonder that I'm not being accepted anywhere; I simply don't have anything to offer."

He wrings the water out of the cloth and he dumps it back in, before he puts his palms on either side of the basin, leaning forward. For a moment she thinks that he's mad at her; he might as well be. "I need you to stop thinking so lowly of yourself. You need to respect yourself-"

"-when you treated me like I'm incapable that night everything turned out wrong. I can't seem to find the will to respect myself when the people around me keep telling me I can't."

He exhales, leans over the basin and utters, "Right, that was my fault, I could have said it better. I- We don't think of you as less capable than any of us. We simply didn't want you to be repulsed by who we are, but at the same time you deserve to know who we really are."

"Thank you," she finally says, ultimately causing Seonghwa to look at her with surprise at her sudden words. "For, I don't know. Not killing me I guess. When you should. And at least I somewhat felt important when you nursed and took care of me."

He doesn't accept her thanks as he feels that they don't deserve it. Instead he replies, "They were all worried for you, you know. Some of them might not show it but they are, and that includes our leader. He might seem rough at first but he just cares too much for the rest of us that it's hard for him to accept you. Just give him time, I'm sure he'll warm up to you."

Time is what they ask for, but it feels like even that is about to run out.

"We might not even have the slightest idea on how your life is before this," he says, and he sounds like he would expose all her secrets at that point and mercilessly kick her out of the house so that she's left to defend for herself. But he leans against the table, facing her as he continues with a voice that is laced with sincerity, "but there are people who appreciate you in this world; you just haven't realized it yet. I know that this is all my assumption at best but these 2 days that I got to see you, I can tell how you always treat yourself. You think about others, but in the end you beat yourself up. You live on thinking that no one cares for you."

"No one ever does," she rebuts. "Over time you learn how to live like that and it ends up being how you bring yourself."

"And still with all of that you managed to be nice. Ms. Han, that just shows how sincere you are. Even in this cruel world you still managed to be nice, and that's not something to be brushed off."

The combination of his tone, gaze and content makes tears sting her eyes again, but she wills herself to not let it spill. "It's hard trying to stay strong all the time when you feel that the world is against you. Especially when you have no one by your side." She fists her hands, burying them into the mattress. "It's hard knowing that no one would take a single chance to stay with you."

"Are you sure of that?" a slight smile accompanies his words. "From what I see the rest of the boys and even Hwayoung look like they enjoy your company very much. I, myself enjoy your company Ms. Han. You are a peculiar person," he doesn't mean it as an insult, "because you fit just right in."

Would they still think the same when they know that I'm not who I say I am? When they know that I've been lying all along...

"If they do find out who you are, will you be able to handle the consequences?" Akira's question rings in her head.

I have to; I'll just hold on to that until I get to do what I've wanted to.

"Hongjoong has been waiting for you to wake up. He couldn't sleep because he felt that he's somewhat responsible for you fainting." He brings the cloth to her forehead, but decides against pressing it onto her when he feels that her body temperature has dropped significantly. "He didn't say it out loud but we can tell that he was worried. He's at the attic."

When she looks confused at the mention of the attic, he explains, "We have an opening and a platform where you can sort of sit on and look at the sky, if you want. He likes to spend his time there if he can't sleep and the room's too stuffy for him. If you're feeling alright maybe you can take a peek so that he knows you've woken up."

She lets her legs hang at the edge of her bed, and as she glances once more at the picture of him and Akira, she smiles. He follows her gaze and automatically he has this goofy smile on, his eyes dropping to a dreamy-like state.

"She must be really lucky to have someone like you. You take care of others and you're really... soft with your actions. You remind me a lot of my mother."

"I wish she would think the same way too." He mulls, putting down the cloth and picking up the frame. His finger lightly touches her face in the picture and he chuckles, "She's pretty even when she's mad."

He sounds like he's so in love that Byul mirrors his chuckle, amused, and proceeds to wonder if there will ever be a time she would have someone who would think of her the same way he does of her.

He puts down the frame carefully as she stands up, a bit wobbly at first as she's trying to regain her balance. When she's sure that she's able to walk without needing help, she proceeds to the door. He eyes her, following her steps from behind. He sends her away with his eyes, and he goes the other way to the kitchen, intending to put away the unused cloth and basin.

Yunho gets out of Hwayoung's room, his hair unkempt and his cheeks painted red. He looks like he's been sleeping himself, with the groggy look and the hint of drool at the corner of his mouth. He smacks his mouth a few times as he scratches his cheek, and stops in front of his bedroom door when he sees that Byul is walking towards the stairs.

"Feeling alright?" he asks, but it seems that he's only asking it while he's half-awake; he doesn't wait for her answer as he opens his own door, disappears inside and the creaking of his bed can be heard from inside, signalling that he had practically dived onto the mattress.

"Well, I'm doing fine, thanks for asking," she replies anyway. "Hope you have a nice sleep." She takes a glimpse of the clock to note that it's currently 2 a.m.

She puts her feet down lightly on the stairs, taking them one by one. She doesn't run into any of the other occupants; it could be that the rest of those who are upstairs are already asleep, because she hears nothing - something that she has known to be the case only when they're sound asleep. Based on Seonghwa's directions she climbs to the attic, the full moon providing ample light for her to guide herself through the miscellaneous items on the attic.

She wonders if the attic is a treasure box where they keep their prized memories, or it's only a forgotten place where they keep unused objects. She keeps wondering as she looks at the boxes stacked on top of each other, only letting her feet stop when she realizes that she has no idea where the opening is.

She goes to the only window at the attic, notices that it's slightly cracked open and she pushes it outwards. The window is at a slight angle due to the shape of the roof, so she has to extend her arms to let it open wider, as she uses a stepladder that's placed under the window. She guesses that Hongjoong must still be there. She climbs her way up with ease, feeling the cold night air brush against her skin. She makes her way to the tiled rooftop, and she looks around to look for him.

One, she's glad that she somehow managed to come here, and that Seonghwa's description of the place is exactly as it is, where there is a cemented platform towards the right of the window, wide enough for around three people to sit with their legs stretched.

Two, she's slightly unnerved by the height they're at, considering that there is essentially no barrier, where if someone were to slip and had nothing to hold on to, gravity would have had the upper hand and the fall would not be so pleasant.

Three, much to her consternation, she spots Hongjoong on the platform but instead of sitting down, he's currently standing too close to the edge, his body leaned forward and head directed to look down below. Half of his soles are hanging off the edge, and she fears for the worst.

She calls out his name, yet he doesn't turn around. Instead he comes closer to the edge, looking like he has made up his mind to jump off the structure.