The morning sun at Jia's house didn't bring light; it brought a pounding headache for her father.
He groaned, his eyes opening to the sight of empty liquor bottles scattered across the floor.
Slowly, the memories of the previous night began to crawl back into his mind.
He remembered the anger, the struggle, and locking Jia in the dark.
Stumbling over his own feet, he made his way toward the back of the house.
He reached the store room and pulled back the heavy bolt with a sharp metallic clink.
"Get up, you useless girl!" he barked, swinging the door open.
But there was no response.
The room was empty.
The dusty floor only held the imprint of where she had been lying. Panic, mixed with a cold, sober fear, washed over him as he saw the open window.
His bird had finally flown away from the cage, and he knew he had pushed her too far this time.
Meanwhile, miles away in the tiny, secluded apartment, the atmosphere was completely different.
Jia was sitting on the edge of the bed, a pencil moving rhythmically across a scrap of paper.
She was sketching Jinu, who was busy organizing his small bookshelf.
Every now and then, he would steal a glance at her, and a small, genuine smile would touch his lips—a smile that he had forgotten he was capable of.
"I bought these for you,"
Jinu said,
placing a small bag on the bed.
Inside were a few simple, comfortable clothes.
He didn't have much money; every penny he earned from his grueling part-time shifts at the local coffee shop went into his rent and books.
But today, he hadn't thought twice before spending it on her.
Jia looked at the clothes and then at the small, lonely room.
It was so well-kept, yet so silent. "Jinu,"
she started softly, putting her pencil down.
"Do you live here all by yourself?
I mean... where are your parents?
Why don't they ever visit?"
The air in the room suddenly felt heavy.
Jinu's hand froze on a book cover.
The light in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a shadow that Jia had seen many times before but never understood.
He sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the wall, staring at his hands.
"I don't have anyone, Jia,"
he whispered, his voice sounding hollow.
"I'm an orphan.
I've been on my own since I can remember.
No parents, no family, no one to wait for me at the end of the day."
He looked up at her, his gaze raw and vulnerable. "For a long time, I thought that was my fate—to be a shadow that no one noticed.
That's why I stayed away from everyone.
If you don't let anyone in, they can't leave you, right?"
Jia felt a lump in her throat.
She realized that while she had a father who was a monster, Jinu had the crushing weight of absolute silence.
She moved from the bed and sat on the floor beside him, leaning her shoulder against his.
"You're not a shadow anymore,
"Jinu"
she said firmly, taking his hand.
"And you're not alone.
Not anymore."