Chapter 5

Yuno's POV

The rain gently taps against the windows—a reminder of how this whole thing started. A chance encounter, a gut feeling, a kneejerk gesture, and now I'm here, eating dinner with Minji and her parents. A girl who's first impression of me is my fucked up mug, fresh after a fight. A girl who I can't properly look at without my stomach doing somersaults. All this because that tiny grinning devil couldn't return Minji's phone herself.

"The rain is getting bad out there," Minji's mom remarks. "I'm glad we caught you before you went out, it would be a shame if you got sick." Her lips curl into a smile in my direction, yet the warmth is jarringly vacant from her eyes. The alarms going off in my head tell me to bolt for the front door, but all I can do is sit there with my leg bouncing nervously underneath the table. 

Minji sits silently next to me, an unreadable expression on her face. I tug at my sleeve, hoping the blood stain is covered. I have no idea what she could be thinking of right now, and that scares me for reasons I can't explain, reasons that are eating me up inside with every passing second. But with all this tension in the air, I can barely breathe, let alone get a word out.

Mrs. Kim sets tray after tray of food on the table, filling up every inch with dishes I had never even dreamed of. An array of pleasant smiles waft through the air, making my stomach grumble loudly. I clutch it, hoping none of them can hear it over the backdrop of rain.

"Eat as much as you like, dear," Mrs. Kim says. Without thinking, I quickly grab a little bit of everything and pile it onto my plate, eager to quell the hunger pains. Right before the spoon hits my lips, I notice Mr. and Mrs. Kim staring at me, eyes wide like they're watching some starving animal. Compared to the mountain of food on my plate, their portions seem like enough to feed a single mouse.

My appetite disappears underneath their judgmental gazes. "Uh, sorry," I utter sheepishly, setting my spoon down. If only a little rain hadn't gotten in my way.

Minji suddenly coughs, her cheeks bulging with food. I bite back a grin at the sight as she brushes a piece of rice off of her lip.

"Your table manners, dear," Mrs. Kim gently scolds her.

"Sorry, Mother," Minji says. "I'm quite hungry." She quickly glances at me and offers a small nod before looking back at her food with that same expression from before—prim, proper, and completely soulless. It's almost scary how quickly she turns pulls it on and off like a mask. Still, it's good to know that I'm not completely alone in here. 

"So, Yuno," Mr. Kim says, "Minji has never mentioned you before. How did you two meet?"

"Biology class," I reply, reiterating Minji's earlier lie. "We got partnered up for a project."

"I see." He nods, eyes squinted as he scrutinizes my expression. I almost wonder if he can see through our lie. Maybe there's some fancy, high tech stuff in his glasses that can sense that shit. 

I sneak a peek at Minji, her movements almost robotic, rehearsed, as if the moment she tilts her fork at the wrong angle, the room will burst into flames. Nothing like the Minji that I'm used to seeing. Is this what having her parents around does to her? 

"What do your parents do for work?" Mr. Kim continues his interrogation. I inhale, hoping this will all be over soon.

"My dad's a night shift guard." When he's not passed out drunk, at least.

"And your mother?"

"She's..." My throat tightens slightly at the mention of her. "She passed away."

The room falls silent as each member of the Kim family looks back at me with a mix of shock and sympathy. My gaze falls to my plate, barely a dent made in the large pile of food.

"I'm... sorry to hear that, dear," Mrs. Kim offers. It's the first hint of genuine emotion I feel from her all night.

"It's fine," I shrug. "It was a couple years ago. I'm okay now." Yet, as the words drift through my lips, it feels like an even bigger lie than the one I told before. How can I be okay when I find myself craving the feeling of crushing someone's windpipe in my hand? How can I be okay when the person I see in the mirror is unrecognizable to who I was before she died? How can I be okay when every night, I go back to a home that hasn't felt like a home in years?

I keep all this to myself, of course, because was else am I supposed to do? Cry in front of them? Crying won't fix any of the mistakes I've made. Crying won't bring her back.

Mr. Kim starts to speak, but Ms. Kim stops him with a touch of her hand. "Let him eat," she utters solemnly. A sense of relief washes over me for her intervention, grateful for the opportunity to move on. Minji quietly reaches under the table to gently pat my knee. A small gesture, but one that lets me breath easier. The rest of the dinner is spent in silence, accompanied by the clinking of silverware against fine china and the rhythmic downpour outside.

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I lean back in my chair, my stomach full for the first time in God knows how long. As intimidating as Minji's mother is, she's also a hell of a cook.

As Mrs. Kim clears the table, I peer out the window and find not a single drop of rain falling from the sky. I quickly excuse myself from the table, taking my chance to finally escape.

"Thanks for the meal, but I should get going now," I utter hastily before beelining it straight for the front door.

"W-wait!" Minji exclaims, trailing after me. "I'll walk you home." My brow furrows in confusion at her, but she's already turned to her parents. "It'll give us a chance to discuss our project some more."

Mr. Kim contemplates for a moment before nodding. "Alright then. Be careful, and don't be out too late. Your mother and I want to talk to you once you get back."

Minji follows me outside and shuts the door behind us, releasing a long sigh as she leans against the wall. "That was soooooooooo stressful. I'm sorry you had to go through all that, Yuno."

I slump on the wall next to her. "I've been through worse," I shrug. We stood together in silence for a while, the chilly evening air gracing our faces, infused with the lingering scent of rain. Minji is the first to break the silence as she turns to me, a look of sadness in her eyes.

"I'm sorry about your mom. I had no idea she was..." Her voice trails off as she avoids saying 'the word'.

"It's fine. Really," I assure her, although I can't meet her eyes. We start the walk towards my house, our path lit up by the moonlight reflected in lingering puddles. With all this talk about my mom, memories of that night creep into my mind like a virus I can't stop—the sirens. The hospital. The tears.

"She died in a hospital fire three years ago," I begin, my voice carrying the weight of the past. Minji looks up at me, listening intently. "She was a nurse. Very caring and loved helping people. Constantly reminding me to always look out for others."

My legs freeze in place like their chained to the ground. What would she think of me now?

A hand softly grips my shoulder. "Yuno?" Minji murmurs. I breathe, and continue.

"My mom, she, um... There were times where she would forget that she mattered too. She was selfless, but never put herself first. Even when the building was burning around her, she spent the, um... last moments of her life helping people." I fall quiet. Another word and I'm not sure if I could hold back what I've been keeping inside.

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Yuno." Minji squeezes my shoulder, her touch gentle yet firm, reminding me that I'm not the only on here. I meet her eyes and see them glistening with tears—tears for someone she never knew about until tonight.

That someone will never get to know that Minji exists. They'll never see their only son go through high school, or spend another late night on the couch with their husband. Mom will never know about the home that she left behind. The home that can't function without her. Her husband, turned to alcohol, her son, to violence. It's almost funny—out of the three of us, maybe she's the one that got out lucky.

I move Minji's hand from my shoulder and unravel my sleeve, revealing the blood stain, now dark red and ugly. "I got into another fight today," I breathe.

"I—you, what?" Minji stammers, a mix of shock and disappointment growing on her face.

Blood stains are the hardest to get out, especially when they dry. You could toss it into the wash a million times, yet remnants of them will always be there, small maybe, but present nonetheless, a lingering reminder of every mistake I've made. The easiest way to get rid of them is to throw out the stained garment entirely, replace it, forget about it, pretend that it never happened.

Or, you can salvage the garment; keep washing it, face the problem head on, find the right tools to treat it until its spotless. Maybe you'll be lucky and it'll disappear right away. Maybe no matter what you do, the stain will never wash out. Even then, it's better than trying to forget about it completely.

"It was Tyler," I continue, despite the thumping in my chest. "He was beating up a, uh, friend. I couldn't control myself. I'm sorry."

Minji remains silent as she processes my words, her expression unreadable under the shadows. With every passing second, I wonder if all of this was a huge mistake.

Finally, she lets out a heavy sigh. "How is your friend?" she asks, gaze fixated on the ground. The disappointment in her tone stabs through me like a knife.

"He's okay, I think. Your friend with the glasses helped us out."

"Danielle?" Her brow furrows in surprise before she clears her throat. "That's, uh, good to hear. What about Tyler?"

I gulp, averting my gaze as I search for the right words to put this gently. "He'll be... out for a while."

"You were just... protecting your friend," she mutters. "I'm not gonna fault you for that."