A sigh falls from your lips as you card your fingers through your hair. It had been a god awful day; long hours and horrible people, not to mention it was far too hot outside. You knew complaining about it would get you nowhere, though, so instead you sucked it up and made your way to the employee station, getting a drink of water.

The parade had started not long ago, you can’t help but pity those in the big, bulky costumes dancing down the street. If you were dying in your get-up, you didn’t want to imagine how they felt. Your eyes flutter down when you feel a tug on your costume, a little girl of only about five if you had to guess stands below you; a cute crochet strawberry hat on her head. She seems to be gesturing to the water bottles, and without much of a thought you hand her one.

A man runs in not much later, scooping her up and scolding her gently. You recognize him. He’s one of the caricature artists in the middle of the park; and while you don’t know much about him you know he has a sick daughter, which must be the little girl in his arms.

“I’m so sorry if she was bothering you. Na-yeon, I told you not to wander away.”