The view of Joon's office was spectacular. He had his own closed space, glass walls and a separate television for surveillance and news. He wondered how Cyan was doing, back in his graphic design department on the twelfth floor. However he was, Joon was sure he wasn't faring well. 

Lala's birthday was coming in July. Joon wanted to be invited, he wanted to watch Taekwondo Raccoon part 4 with her in the theaters, take her to an amusement park… he didn't just like Cyan, he liked, no he needed them. 

As a family. 

"Section Chief?" Assistant manager Kim Jugyun knocked at Joon's door, poking her pretty head inside. "We're all going for lunch. Would you want to come with us?" 

"Sure," Joon stood up and reached for his blazer, "you can head down first, I'll be coming in a few minutes." 

"Okay." 

Joon took a leisure stroll on the stairs instead of taking the elevator, running his hands along the bannister of the stairs and watching the horizon dip down to ground level with each floor. His feet halted when he heard a familiar voice speaking in hushed, hurried tones just one floor below. 

Joon's heart leapt in his mouth. But it sank down when he heard what Cyan was saying.

"What do you mean her hand's broken?" 

Joon stepped down, and saw a distressed Cyan rubbing his temples. He had a frown on his face— eyebrows sagged, lips curled in a scowl and the look of pure agony in his eyes. 

"No, you were supposed to take care of my daughter!" He yelled at whoever he was speaking to, and bile rose up in Joon's throat. Lala was hurt? 

"I… right now? And you're telling me that— alright, you know what? I'm suing you when I get there and please, for God's sake get my daughter to the hospital —" Cyan's fists clenched, "you're telling me you need me to take her to a hospital?" 

There was a moment of silence, and Joon could sense Cyan's anger. He was about to yell at the highest pitch his voice could ever muster. Seo Cyan. The ever perfect gentleman. Joon didn't like seeing him like that. 

He had wondered how Cyan would have reacted on seeing him, would he have been happy, or his eyes would be red from a subtle sorrow. But Cyan looked nothing like that right now. 

"Lala," he rasped, "she's hurt and… and I have a presentation in fifteen minutes." His hands clawed at Joon's arms in despair and misery, and in raw pain. "I don't know…" 

"I'll take her to the hospital," Joon said without a thought. 

"You will?" Cyan whispered. "Thank you." No questions asked. Just a reasonable demand for safety and promise and somewhere, somewhere deep down, Joon realised that Cyan trusted him. 

"Where's the school?" 

"I- I'll send the address. But, please hurry." 

"I'll be on my way then. Good luck with your presentation. And trust me, Lala will be fine." 

Cyan didn't want to let Joon go. The look in his eyes was practically screaming to hold Joon back and go to his daughter himself. Sure, Joon couldn't feel the same way as Cyan did, but he wanted to try. Maybe, it was a second chance and he didn't want to ruin it. 

"Thank you." 

Maybe it was just the wind, or Joon really heard Cyan whispering those words. 

____________

Lala's hand wasn't broken— it was mangled. A large nail pierced her palm, going in through the back of her hand and coming outside from the front. All the students of her class were sitting in a circle around her, with a hyperventilating teacher, who looked like she was about to faint. 

Joon's temper shot through the roof. "What on Earth were you doing when this happened?" 

"I am so sorry," the poor teacher cried, "I didn't… I am so sorry!" 

"Ahjussi!" Lala cried when she saw Joon. Oddly, she wasn't bawling like any other child her age, or even an adult would do if a nail went through their palm. "Why are you so late?" 

Joon took a deep breath and tried to not go haywire at the sight of all the blood and gore flesh. "Let's get you to the hospital, kiddo. Fast." 

Seo Lala didn't whine or whimper much, except for a few occasional sniffles. That adamant stubbornness, putting on a facade of being fine even when she was not, trying to make herself as less burdensome as she could, all of those were self destructive traits. A child couldn't have those. 

Cyan was a good father. But his daughter had begun to copy him. And it wasn't good. 

"Lala, can you climb on my back?" Joon asked the girl once they were outside the hospital. Lala gave him a tiny nod. Joon squatted down in front of her and the girl put his arms around his neck before he lifted her off the ground like a baby koala. Lala weighed less than a backpack. But the fact concerning Joon was the rapidly staining handkerchief which was tied around Lala's hand as a makeshift bandage. 

Initially, the daycare teacher had tried to pull the nail out but Joon had yelled at her again, because the nail was what was keeping the blood from flooding out. 

"Excuse me," Joon raced to the nearest medical personnel in the hurtling bustling ER. He had just driven to the nearest University hospital, without much thought. His primary focus was getting the child's hand correct. "Excuse me!" He yelled, "my daughter's hand got stabbed! Can you please look?" 

Lala's hand had the nurse's eyes widened and her mouth fell open in shock. Probably the fact that Lala wasn't crying made it all the more worse. 

"Dr. Tae!" She briskly walked towards a man in a white coat and blue scrubs, who adjusted the stethoscope on his neck as he came running towards them. He too had the same reaction as the middle aged nurse, and he looked all the more worse. 

"Would you do something?" Joon snapped at him. 

The doctor quickly closed his mouth and closed his eyes. When he opened them a split second later, his expression had completely changed. "What's your name, Princess?" He asked softly. "And could you tell me where it hurts?" 

Lala's lower lip trembled. And then Joon watched while she was taken to one of the curtained beds on the side of the ER and made to sit down, while a nurse and another man in white scrubs joined them.

"How much time has passed since this?" The doctor looked up at Joon, while his hands were busy tying a bandage around Lala's wrist. 

"Uh…less than half an hour, at most." 

"Good thing you didn't try to pull this out," he turned to Lala and gave her a small smile, "this is going to hurt a little." 

Joon wondered if that seemingly twenty year old doctor was even qualified for treating lacerations like those. Joon was positively trembling with rage when he turned to the other doctor, the one who looked like the older one but was probably a subordinate, and began to explain to him how to treat something like that. 

"Excuse me —" Joon exhaled shakily. 

"Yes, I know what you're going to say but trust me, this is how it works." Dr. Tae was speaking to Joon, but he was somehow smiling at Lala and making weird faces at her. 

"Get Dr. Park from the orthopaedic department." Dr. Tae said to the nurse in a clipped turn. 

"Mr. Kim," he said to Joon, "your daughter has a fractured hand too." 

"A what?" 

"We'll be doing an X-ray, but for now," he grunted softly, and then the nail in Lala's palm came out in his hands. Joon looked in shock, just as Lala's completely bandaged left hand began to turn a little red. 

"See, you're so brave," Dr. Tae patted her head, "but you can cry, alright? We all cry when we get hurt," he said softly, "so it's alright to cry." 

"Ahjussi," Lala said to the doctor, "am I fine now?" 

"Not yet. But you'll be all fine in just a few hours, Princess." 

Seo Lala sniffled loudly and then burst out crying, clutching the lapels of the doctor's coat. For a moment, Joon was jealous of that man. How could he easily have that girl open up to him, and how Joon couldn't.