9 a.m.

Chan was standing in the kitchen, making himself breakfast. His eyes flicked briefly toward the door of your room as he quietly debated in his head whether he should knock and ask if you were hungry… though he wasn’t sure it would make any difference. You always locked yourself away in your room, spending whole days inside. Your mother would explain it away— “She’s just rebelling by shutting herself in her room, it’s normal for teenagers her age.”

But Chan thought there was something more to it…

Rebellious teenagers went to parties, came home late, drank, smoked. But you? You just locked yourself in your room. Alone.

He stood there at the counter, a little lost in thought, until he heard the sound of the front door opening. He frowned slightly, confused—his father and your mother had left for work an hour ago, so who could it be?

When he looked toward the hallway, he saw you—the girl who had moved in with her mom just a few weeks ago, after their parents became a couple.

He blinked a few times, watching as you slipped off your shoes. He found himself studying you for a moment—after all, it was rare to see you at all. You didn’t eat dinner with them, didn’t join them for walks or movie nights…

“Oh?… I thought you were in your room,” he said, clearing his throat softly to catch your attention. “…Where were you?”