"Do you want this flavour or that one?" he asks the child in his arms, pointing to the said flavours as they pore over the tubs of ice cream behind the glass. They are at the child's favourite ice cream parlour, paying a promised visit of twice a week - once at the start of the week and once at the end of the week. Those two are the only time her dad would let her have ice cream. When the child points to another different flavour, he frowns, "We tried that flavour last week, what about this one? This one looks delicious."

"But it looks ugly. I want the purple and pink one."

"Hwayoung, a chocolate-coloured ice cream doesn't mean it's ugly. Look, it's crying because you said it's ugly."

"Dad, ice creams cannot cry. Stop lying," she replies seriously, earning a snorted laugh from the worker waiting for them to make their choice, who quickly disguises it with clearing her throat. "I still want the purple and pink one. You can take the chocolate one if you keep on insisting."

He sighs, thwarted by his own 6-year-old daughter. She always replies smartly, and he wonders where she got it from. He doesn't think it comes from him, because he always loses to her. She could've gotten it from the other side... but he doesn't want to think about it. "Alright, then." He turns to the worker. "Can I have one regular cone of the double chocolate ice cream and one regular cup-"

"I want a cone."

"-make that one regular cone of the cotton candy ice cream."

He puts down his daughter, pays for both ice creams and they exit the ice cream parlour, Hwayoung excitedly licking the ice cream. They walk hand in hand, but he has to slightly bend down to accommodate his daughter's height, or else she will be lifted off the ground. Since he had received no job for today, he had spent time with his daughter all day, trying to fulfill every request she had; from feeding the ducks at the park - which resulted in them being chased around when one wanted more - to getting the cotton candy ice cream which quickly became her favourite.

He feels his pants being tugged, and he looks down; his daughter is pouting, mouth smeared all over with ice cream. Her legs are pressed together and she is slightly jittery. "What's wrong, Hwayoung?"

"Dad, I really need to go to the toilet."

"Honey, can you wait? We're almost at the cafe." He scratches his head; it's hard for him to bring his daughter to a public restroom - he can't follow her inside and he's worried something's going to happen to her if she's alone.

She is already running her small legs in place, trying to hold it in. "BUT DAD!" she whines. "I really need to go."

Knowing that there's no other quicker way, he results in lifting her up with one arm and putting her on his shoulders. After instructing her to hold on tight, he dashes forward, knowing that it will take them at least 5 minutes to see the exterior of the cafe building. He weaves in and out of the crowd, narrowly avoiding running into a pole as he's too distracted in trying to get to the cafe as quickly as he can. Her left hand is placed on top of his head, and he feels the melted ice cream dripping onto his hair, but that is the least of his worries. Even while running, he doesn't forget to eat his own ice cream, and as he practically flies when he turns into the alley where the cafe is, he is already munching on the last part of his cone. He notes that their car is out front, which means that all of them are probably inside.

There is a couple at the cafe, but besides that it's empty. Wooyoung is wiping the same tables over and over again, bored out of his mind, Yeosang is still reading the book he picked up yesterday, while Jongho is brewing coffee, one for himself and not for the customers. The only customers they have are chatting away happily, their coffee long drained, ignoring the person who just stormed into the cafe, who has a child on his shoulders and is looking like he was just chased by a rabid dog.

"We have an emergency; Hwayoung needs to go to the toilet!" He grabs Hwayoung's ice cream and gives it to Wooyoung. He doesn't wait for acknowledgement from the other workers as he disappears into the depth of the storeroom's darkness, intending to use the only toilet they have on the ground floor. He unloads his child from his shoulders and makes it past the door to the back, shouting something incoherent.

"Mingi is using the toilet though," Yeosang says, but he is already out of earshot. When he realizes that he cannot hear, he adds, "Well then, good luck."

It doesn't take long for him to emerge again, this time holding her like she's trying to fly before shouting, "Damn it Mingi my daughter needs to pee!"

"He's having a stomachache, give him a break," Wooyoung chuckles, eyeing as the father-daughter pair bounds up the stairs beside the counter, their steps fading. They hear the passcode to their dorm upstairs being keyed in then a loud slam as the door opens, and him once again exclaiming to the whole house that his daughter needs to pee.

Upstairs, Hongjoong is hissing as he smears salve on his face, where he got hit by the pack of sausages. The bruise still hasn't receded since morning, and although he has reprimanded the oldest for hitting him on the face, it hasn't managed to soothe the pain he got smack on the bridge of his nose. He's grateful that it isn't swollen and merely bruised, or he would make sure Seonghwa would've gotten the same treatment on that handsome face of his.

He is sitting on one of the high chairs at the kitchen island, muttering how Seonghwa is lucky he's useful or he would've disposed him in the trash. His legs dangle from the chair, and as someone shouts from the entrance of their dorm saying that his daughter needs to go to the toilet, he almost falls off the chair from shock. The chair wobbles uncertainly on its rear legs and Hongjoong's arms flail around trying to get a grip. Luckily, San sees him teetering dangerously and his hand shoots out in an attempt to straighten back the chair.

He turns to his saviour, smiles before saying, "Thank you San." Then he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and bellows, "JEONG YUNHO!"

"Not now Hongjoong, I need to get Hwayoung to the toilet. I'll help you after she's done," Yunho says hurriedly.

"I don't need help-" he presses his lips together when he realizes that no one in the house is listening to him.

Yunho runs to Hwayoung's bedroom, practically throwing her into the toilet and shutting the door, his forehead placed against the surface. "Honey, don't be too quiet in there or I'll break down the door, okay? Just shout if you need any help."

"Dad, stop over-reacting, you're making me embarrassed. I'm just trying to pee."

"Your dad is just worried about you, cupcake."

He waits outside the door, hands behind like he was a guard, trying to pass the time as he taps a foot on the floor. He hears Hwayoung flushing the toilet, placing the stepstool in front of the sink and washing her hands. Two seconds pass before her small head peeks through the opening, grinning.

"I'm done." She opens the door, steps out and Yunho picks her up.

It's always been like that; even though she's getting heavier, he likes to carry her around and keeps her close to him. Some calls him an overprotective dad, some calls him a dorky dad. Hwayoung calls her both, but honestly, he just wants the best for his daughter. He remembers holding her in his arms for the first time and as he lays his eyes on her, he decides she's the most beautiful and precious baby. The first day he had gotten her was the also the first day he knew he was a dad, and the last time Hwayoung had a mother. Hwayoung's birthday is a bittersweet day for him; he's over the moon for having a daughter to call his own, but he's also devastated that she would be growing up with no one to call as her mother.

He was the one who gave her the name - Hwayoung - which has the meaning of 'a beautiful flower'. She is to him, and he won't let anyone change that.

"Your hair is all icky from my ice cream, I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? Come on, let's go downstairs and finish your ice cream." They go to the the living room, where Hongjoong is already waiting to speak to Yunho, but again, the younger one stops him. "Not now, we need to go back to Hwayoung's ice cream."

He curls his straightened forefinger, feeling completely useless. He turns to Seonghwa and San who are watching a cooking show on the television, laughing when the chef makes a joke about paninis. He looks forlornly at them, but talks to no one in particular, "Does no one ever respect me in this household?"

At the cafe, they are already preparing to close for the day, sending off the couple with smiles. It's almost 10 p.m., the couple being the only customers they had for today.

After they left, Jongho sinks back in one of the chairs, already downing his third americano. "I'm so freaking bored. Song Mingi, haven't we received any requests lately? Catching a cheating spouse? Tracking down a lost dog? Shooting down a psychopath? Anything?"

Mingi rubs a hand on his stomach, still feeling queasy as he shakes his head, "It's pretty dry lately. Do you think we're putting too much on the price that they scare people away?"

"Oh come on, people would pay any amount when they're trying to do something... illegal," Yeosang finishes. "They give the price and we decide whether we want to accept it."

"Our job is not illegal," Wooyoung interjects. "We just do what they ask us to do. We have our own principles too."

"Don't talk about that when we're with Hwayoung," Yunho appears with a smiley Hwayoung, who is excited to continue devouring her ice cream. However her face falls when she cannot locate her ice cream as she scrutinizes each of her uncles' hands. The scoop of ice cream is nowhere in sight, the cone is gone.

"Oh yeah, says the dad who brings her daughter out on missions sometimes." Mingi rolls his eyes.

"It's not what it looks like," Wooyoung suddenly exclaims.

"It looks exactly what it looks like. Uncle, you ate my ice cream! You have pink and purple smears on your lips."

"No I didn't." He brings a hand to wipe off the evidence. "Your Uncle Yeosang ate it."

"Listen here you little shi-" Yeosang smacks a hand to the back of Wooyoung's head, but corrects himself when Yunho mouths 'no cussing' and motions to Hwayoung. "-you little shirt. Hwayoung, I did not. Wooyoung did."

"I know, you can't lie to me, uncle. I saw the ice cream."

Yunho lets go of her hand, bends his body so that his head is under the tap and runs the water over his hair, washing the bits of melted ice cream he had gotten when they were on the expedition back to the cafe. "You better not make my child cry or I will rip off your earrings."

Wooyoung gasps in horror as his hands protectively cover the multitude of piercings he has on his ears. "You monster. They're my precious babies."

"Oh yeah, and Hwayoung is my precious baby. Now where did the ice cream go?"

He throws up his hands in defeat. "Fine, fine I did eat it. But it was melting and both of you were still upstairs! It would be a shame to watch it go to waste. I'll buy you an even bigger cone for you, Hwayoung."

"Uh-uh. You could've done something else other than eating it. Honey, go upstairs, shower, brush your teeth and I'll tuck you into bed. Jongho, grab Wooyoung and make sure he doesn't run away. Mingi, lock the front door to make sure no one can enter. Yeosang, I need you to be my sidekick. I'm going to teach him a lesson for messing with my baby."

"What are you going to do? Tickle me until I die?" Wooyoung playfully sticks out his tongue as Hwayoung bounds up the stairs, already forgetting about her ice cream.

Hwayoung mutters, "My dad and uncles are all so weird," then she's gone upstairs. She has to tiptoe to punch in the passcode, the code being a special day for everyone in the whole house.

"You're underestimating my tickling abilities." Yunho wriggles his fingers.

Jongho pins Wooyoung's hands behind his back, the youngest of them too strong for him. Yunho is already attacking him, tickling him wherever he's sensitive, while Yeosang helps to add his. Mingi goes to the entrance of the cafe, wanting to lock the door but drops the keys when he spots a figure looking at them through the glass, long hair covering her face.

"Is... is that human?" he stammers.

As if the figure can hear him, she snaps her head up, revealing her face. All of the men stand frozen in place, their situation awkward. Everything about her is eerie, from her clothes to the way she tilts her head as she looks at them. But most of all, it's the expression she has on her that's making them gulp.

It's the look of someone out for murder.