You were shining so brightly

Yoon Mirae. Mirae meaning fortune, beauty and future. It described my mother wondrously because in my eyes my mother was beautiful.

Then one day, she decided she needed more fortune.

She needed more money, I guess - to fill whatever kind of void that she had in order to mourn her son.

But didn't we all have to mourn some way or another?

Was money really the only solution?

I can't escape the thoughts that run through my mind like a never ending treadmill.

At first, there were letters, text messages, words of apologies that didn't mean shit to me. I guess my anger and grief over the loss of Joon made me burn and incinerate them all: All any explanations she tried to convey. It was just all noise to me but one day, it stopped.

Shush.

Quiet and nothing- just static from my own mother. I was mad needless to say. This push and pull situation was done but it didn't bring any resolution or closure.

For six years, she was off the grid until now. And this begs the question:

Why now?

"Arden! What are you waiting for!" My father's voice rings from downstairs, and I try to snap out of my intense thoughts. "I can get you a lift to school!"

I quickly grab my bag off the lilac carpeted floor, and rush down the stairs, nearly tripping a few steps along the way. I make my way to the living room where Grams is sitting on the arm chair, peeling a mandarin whilst watching a morning talk show.

"I'll be going now." I kiss her on the forehead, and she nods. "Remember to walk around the house a bit and do some light reading if you-"

"You're blocking the TV," She grunts and I nod.

I nod to myself unenthusiastically.

My father's voice booms at the doorway. "Come on Arden! Or would you rather walk to school!"

I sprint to the car parked outside the house with my father already in the driver's seat. He narrows his eyes at me as I approach the window.

"Are you sure you're not trying to get me fired?" He says as I climb onto the passenger's seat.

"Sorry."

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye but chuckles.

He shakes his head slightly in amusement. "You know I've been thinking a lot about the past lately. When you were little, you'd put on my uniform and badge and we'd play good cop, bad cop. You always wanted to be a cop."

"You'd always wanted to be like me."

I look out the window, almost guiltily where there isn't a single cloud in sight with just the sun's waterfall of rays cascading through the window, causing me to squint.

"Yeah, and Joonie would play the bad guy all the time," I say, but immediately regret it as I look back at him where his eyes have hardened, not looking away from the moving roads.

"Sorry," I quickly apologise. "I didn't mean-"

"No, no, I know I haven't been the most open to you. I know you need someone to talk to about him from time to time. Your mother was the more nurturing one... "

"Was..." I mutter to myself softly, trying to avoid the sad glance from my father.

My father doesn't talk about my mother a lot. Never, really. I'm surprised at him mentioning her right now but don't comment on it.

"I think you're doing the best you can," I try to reassure him.

“You're here."

He smiles sadly. "I wish your mother could also be here with you."

I whip my head to face him with eyebrows raised. "But she's not." I can't help the bitterness that laces my tone.

"She left us."

Dad purses his lips, deciding not to further the tense conversation. While I'm done with the conversation about my mother, I can't help but get something off my chest.

"Look Dad..." I start. I adjust my sitting position to face him. "I just wanted you to know that I didn't stop wanting to be a cop because I no longer respected the profession, I just-"

I see a weak smile sneaking up to his lips and I stop to let him speak. "I know it doesn't pay well right now, but I can promise you that it's the most rewarding job.

Whatever you do Arden, I will support you wholeheartedly."

I grin just as the car comes to a halt, and I realise we have arrived at school where it's still deserted, with only a few parked cars belonging to the teachers.

The school seems very beautiful in the early morning with the birds still chirping playfully, and you just realise how big the place really is. Without all the students roaming the grounds and their obnoxious voices, it is calming.

"Time to get out, bud."

"Thanks, I may come home late today because I might be studying in the library.”

"It's getting cold so it's gonna be pretty dark.... Are you sure you're going to be okay?" He asks softly with his eyebrows knitting even closer together.

"Dad, you’re the one who’s been driving me ever since I was little to competitions. Karate, hapkido, and self-defence classes," I point out.

My dad scoffs. "I know but it’s been a while. And besides… It’s been a while since you’ve practised... You're kinda rusty kiddo."

I clear my throat, slightly embarrassed and get off, making my way to the steps of the building.

I turn around to see my father waving to me from inside the car, and I smile.

I watch as he drives off into the distance towards the sun that is shining so brightly on the building, hitting every corner and every edge, seeping through the deep green leaves of the trees scattered in front.

I sit on the steps and take out my phone to listen to some music while I wait for more students to arrive as it's still very early.

I wrap my scarf more securely around my neck and breathe out a puff of fog. Even though it is a very bright day, the frost of the early morning still creeps into my body, and I shiver a bit.

I take out my common law homework and a pen, setting the notebook on my lap. I'm in the midst of writing, my fingers becoming numb from the cold.

My hopes of breathing in some fresh air and enjoying nature before I'm forced to go in the hell hole -that is school, is completely crushed as a puff of cool air blows in my direction, raising even the small hairs on my face.

I pack up my things to perhaps go inside instead.

"I hear what you're saying. I do." A deep and velvety voice sounds from behind me. I freeze and turn around to see just the person I would never expect to see so early in the morning at school.

Jace Archer stands tall in front of the front doors to the school with only faded blue jeans and a tight white tee that shows off his toned muscles and the outline of his abs.

Why isn't he in his uniform?

And the bigger question is, why do I even care?

The sun casts its light perfectly on his face, creating a shadow on his sharp jaw, accentuating it nicely and highlighting his cheekbones. His amber eyes are lit under the sun, like he had a soft glow of fire in them, and I unconsciously stare at him while he continues to talk on the phone not even aware of my existence.

"Bring them there." He grits his teeth, causing his jaw to lock and his deep-set eyes to harden. He brings his other hand up and rubs his face with his palm with frustration. "I'll see you tonight okay? We need to figure-"

All of a sudden his body tenses like he's a predator sensing his prey nearby, and his head snaps to me.

We lock eyes and I give him a dirty look, wondering if he remembers our previous awkward exchange.

He swallows thickly and looks away from me like I'm not even worth acknowledging.

I roll my eyes.

It's not like his acknowledgement is important to me anyway.

He walks away, and I carry on with my day, without seeing Blair until last period in Mathematics.

“What’s so important that you’re telling me to hang back with you?” I whisper beside her, trying not to catch the attention of our teacher who’s back is towards us, writing on the interactive board.

“There’s a party,” She whispers back. With that, I lean back in my seat and ignore her eager eyes.

She tries to grab my attention again with weird and grand gestures but I remain uninterested.

“Miss Delacour, are you trying to do some secret animal call?” The teacher’s voice booms, and Blair bites her lip and quickly retracts her hands.

“No not at all, sir.”

I try not snicker but a small stifled chuckle escapes my lips, causing our teacher to raise his eyebrows at us skeptically.

I escape to the library as soon as the bell rings for the end of the day and do my homework there until the night guard tells me to leave.

It's very dark now since I had stayed at school till late. The sky is almost pitch black, as I trudge along the familiar sidewalk with my backpack strapped securely on my shoulders.

The dimly lit street lights are what I depend on to find my way back home and I make a mental note to give the city council a ring to remind them to change the light bulbs of the neighbourhood.

But then a snap of a twig echoes in the dark behind me. I begin to tremble slightly with the cold wind blowing against the hot sweat soaking my clothes.

I don't turn back but speed up my pace instead but the people behind me do also.

"Aye, you gal! Wait up!" A slurred voice rings in the night, sending shivers down my spine and I begin to sprint.

Multiple footsteps follow me. I grit my teeth and run as sharp jabs of pain begin to puncture my sides.

This causes me to lose focus and I inconveniently trip with my hands slamming into the concrete before me. I curse myself for eating so much before this and for just metaphorically and literally falling into the dumbest trope of horror movies.

I don't even notice all the blood that is spilling from my hand as my eyes finally adjust to the darkness and I make out the twisted faces of the five middle aged men surrounding me.

A surly looking man, smirks. "Did you not hear us call for you, girly?"

My insides clench but I quickly get up and assume a defensive stance. "Oh I heard. What do you want?" I spit.

One of them staggers towards me and I sidekick him in the face. He growls and his other friends begin to lunge at me. One hits me in the stomach that sends me excruciating pain, but I manage to block a blow to my head. Still clutching my stomach, I do a roundhouse kick to one of them, and he hits the ground with a thump. However, my balance is way off and I also fall to the ground.

I have completely overestimated my skills and have now end up being surrounded by the men as I helplessly lay on the ground.

I am about to initiate an attack but then I falter just as my legs begin to become numb. No matter how hard I try, I cannot force myself to move a muscle. I cannot stand, and I cannot get my damn legs to work.

Tears begin to fill my eyes out of frustration. This has been happening more often lately as my brother's death anniversary nears.

I grit my teeth, thinking of how it had to happen when I'm in peril.

I spot the glint of a knife gripped in one of the men's hands and open my mouth wide, ready to scream 'HELP!', but my strangling cries are blocked when a man with a cigarette in his mouth, reeking of nicotine, clamps his smelly hand over my mouth.

I gasp as he caresses my face roughly with his other hand, squishing my cheeks as the others scan me up and down, making me squirm under their hungry gaze. I smack both his hands away and frantically look around for a way out but to no avail.

"I-I don't have money," I breathe out and grunt from the throbbing pain in my abdomen.

Their laughs send a chill down my spine. "We don't need your money! Do you know who we are?" One of them slurs. He proceeds to throw a wad of cash at my face and I begin to sweat profusely from the anger rising inside me.

How do they have this much money?

They clearly aren't from around here.

"I don't want your filthy, fucking money you bastards,” I hiss.

Before I can even blink, a hot stinging sensation throbs on my cheek and I grip it with both my hands, hoping to suppress the immense pain. I don't even know which of those sick bastards slapped me but I glare at all of them while they snort loudly.

"You are finished today, you bitch!" The man in the middle leans down to grab my shoulders roughly and I hear a cry released out of my own mouth.

"Fuck you," I try to hiss, but only air comes out.

A low but deep voice shatters the atmosphere like glass and I raise my eyes to the people behind the men.

"Get away from her...." The voice emerges from the dark with an extremely threatening edge to his voice. His voice is smooth but still sounds so low and scary.

Four guys stand behind them with broad shoulders garbed all in black. They wear black mouth masks only covering their mouth and nose, leaving their eyes to burn the darkness.

"Why are three grown men ganging up on one girl?" Another says with disgust tinged in his voice.

The guys beside him close in and the man that had me in a tight hold releases me. I land on the ground and place both my palms down to support myself up as I start coughing uncontrollably.

I feel like my lungs are on fire, and I can feel them squeezing and tightening on the inside like an invisible force is sitting on my lungs, crushing me and turning the very air I desperately suck in, into a choke.

"Go to her, Joon."

Joon?

The one-or the leader it seems orders this and one of them approaches me as the others fight off the men. Their grunts and bones cracking can be heard as the choking worsen and all the distress and stress heightens.

The guy - Joon kneels down next to me with his charcoal eyes shining under the dim white light. I only catch a glimpse of them for a moment, enough for me to see.

He has the same eyes as my brother...

And the same name.

"What's your name?" His voice is kind, but I can't even breathe properly, let alone talk.

His resemblance to my brother only makes my chest tighten even more, and the pain in my heart spreads all over my body as I'm reminded of his death.

"What's wrong?" His hands go to my back and his eyes fleet forward and backwards, towards where the others are fighting with panic rising in his clear eyes.

"Guys! Something's wrong with her! I think she can't breathe!"

A sharp shooting pain travels down to my abdominal where they had hit me before and I clutch my stomach whilst still trying to balance out my breathing.

The grunts suddenly stop, and the sound of people hitting the floor can be heard.

I find myself surrounded by the four boys, but this time, it doesn't make me feel scared or frightened like when the other five men surrounded me.

It makes me feel safer. I begin to grip the sleeves of the one guy next to me for support as warm tears begin to leak from my eyes.

"It's a panic attack. She's having a panic attack." The same smooth voice drifts from the guy I'm holding on to.

"What the hell do we do?" Another voice this time asks, his voice slightly more raspy than the others

"What if the frick'n cops come?" A harsher voice intervenes.

"Well we can't just leave her here!" The boy that resembles my brother argues back.

"Grey, Princess, you guys go on the lookout. I'll take care of her." The one holding me, says with authority.

I'm struggling so much that I can't even think to laugh at the stupid nicknames.

"What are we going to do!" Joon hisses. "Should we take her to the hospital?"

I can feel the boy shaking his head as he abruptly wraps his hands around me and pulls me even closer to him, until my face is in his hard but warm chest.

"It's okay, Arden, just breathe...."

"Wait, you know h-" Joon's sentence comes to a halt, and the boy continues to rub circles on my back that soothes me, even though his hand is covered with black leather gloves and feels a bit strange in contact.

I find my body relaxing, as I feel his heat radiating from his body, engulfing me in the kind of warmth you would only find by sitting by a fireplace. Real and raw.

"It's going to be okay, you're okay..." He whispers in my ear and then tucks me under his chin.

I finally stop shaking from the cold and find my breath again.

Finally I can think, and something unexpected enters my mind.

"You're-you're healer?" I say, my throat feeling like sandpaper. I'm afraid I've said it too softly, but he seems to have heard it as he hesitantly nods.

"Where do you live?" He asks.

I don't even hesitate when I give him my answer.

Before I can even thank them properly, they are already gone as I look back before entering the house.

Only the darkness and looming shadows of trees can be seen as no trace of them remain.

I stagger into the house, still clutching my abdominal. It seems like my ribs are damaged but I'm not too sure. I quietly tip-toe upstairs to my room and thank god that Dad is still at work and that Grams had taken an early night it seems, by the sounds of her snores echoing throughout the hallway.

I limp to the bathroom and stare at my pale and fatigued face with almost pity. My eyes seem a little sunken, wider but more dull. I mentally curse at myself for not upholding and continuing to practise my fighting skills I've learnt as a child.

I still have medals and trophies from karate and hapkido competitions in the back of my closet, but that just seems like it's gone to shit and I now feel helpless and weak after what just happened.

I slam my hand on the bathroom sink. The sudden movement only brings pain to me and I hesitantly begin to lift up my shirt slowly and carefully to access the situation.

It is almost like watching a horror movie unfold as my skin becomes more red and blue-ish the more the hem of the shirt rises.

The end result is a jump-scare, as I suck in a breath at the sight of the large bruise.

I begin to first bandage my arms, which is difficult to do alone, and by the time I've treated the wound and put an Asian ointment on my abdominal area, I've decided that it was good enough for now.

Even getting into bed was a struggle, as every muscle in my body ached. But this long day had taken such a toll on my body that my eyelids go heavy as soon as my head hits the pillow.

The world slowly fades away, until complete darkness swallows me up.

For hours I slip in and out of my slumber like I was at sea, with the waves gently rocking me until a wave would come crashing down on my body and knock all of the air out of me again.

Between sleeping and being wide awake, my mind is always running.

And one word keeps being replayed over and over again like a broken record.

Healer.

I wake up extra early the next morning so as not to arouse any suspicions from my dad or grandma questioning me on why I'm limping like a sore duck.

I crack my neck and groan at the pain my body is still exhibiting from last night. Although one of those imbeciles did slap me, I try to mask it with some concealer.

I tip toe downstairs and make myself a coffee before slipping out of the house quietly, leaving a small note behind to say I'd be leaving early due to having to study for a morning 'test'.

Oh wait!

I slap myself in the forehead.

I do have a test!

I quicken my speed to the school entrance, where everyone is already beginning to arrive.

Ignoring the excruciatingly pain from my limbs, I run as fast as I can to my lockers to cram for the stupid Law quiz that Miss Delores prepares for randomly every week. While they don't count towards much, I'd rather eat a shoe then get on Miss D's bad side.

Before I can even reach the top of the steps to the school's entrance, a sharp shooting pain strikes me in the ribs and I take a face to the concrete steps.

Red blurs my vision, and I can hear all the muffled sounds of people gasping and talking loudly around me but no one stops to help. I groan in pain and sink even lower into the concrete, feeling already that my arms are more scratched up even further.

But what of my face?

I don't find out because I completely blackout, but not before seeing my brother's eyes.

____

What's the relation between 'Healer Joon' and Arden's brother....?

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