The aroma of well-prepared food hung heavy in the air of the kitchen, a tantalizing perfume of perfectly cooked steak, juicy vegetables, and fluffy bread. Minji, with her artificially bright smile, served two steaming plates, and my eyes traced the meticulous presentation with suspicion.

"Eat up Dahyun!" Minji chimed, her cheeriness grating on my nerves.

"Is this the stag?" I asked, glancing at the plate, my mind wandering back to the creature in the woods.

"Oh, of course not!" Minji assured me. "A little girl like you shouldn’t eat venison! This is wagyu beef."

"Wagyu?" I questioned.

"A5!" Minji confirmed, clearly proud of her preparation.

"I don’t want it," I said firmly, pushing the plate away. I didn't trust this food. I didn't trust her. Baek has always said that we should depend more on what we have here, rather than what Papa ships in. 

"Dahyun, don’t be like that. Eat up. It’ll make Papa proud." Minji's gaze was unwavering, her eyes, previously devoid of emotion, now intense and commanding. Feeling the weight of her stare, I surrendered with a heavy sigh. The food was delicious.

Later, as I washed the dishes, the sink filled with warm water that reflected the gleaming overhead lights. There wasn’t much to clean as the plates were picked clean under Minji's insistent eyes. She had retreated to the couch by then, the tablet resting on her lap.

"Dahyun! Want to watch something on the tablet with me?" Minji's voice cut through my thoughts, shattering my brief solitude. Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I reluctantly complied, settling uncomfortably beside her on the sofa.

Minji had chosen a video about cooking, and I watched with feigned interest as a woman chopped vegetables with swift precision on the screen. "This is where I learned to make all my dishes," Minji chirped. However, my gaze was inevitably drawn to the recommended videos, my own survivalist content a siren call amongst them. Minji noticed my wandering attention and quickly enlarged the cooking video to fill the screen.

Silence stretched out between us before I interrupted it with a well-timed yawn and stretch. "Miss Park, I think I’m going to draw for a bit," I told her, already rising from the couch.

"Oh, okay. We can finish it later then!" Minji responded, sounding oddly chipper.

I offered her a nod of agreement and retreated to my room, the door closing quietly behind me.

The next day I found myself beneath the plum tree, the same spot where Baek and I used to rest and watch the clouds. Were they even real? Is this the actual sky that I was looking at or was it just a giant screen like my tablet. Come to think of it, I had never seen a helicopter or plane fly past. The sky has always been clear of anything man-made. These thoughts flooded my mind as I scribbled in my sketchbook. My pencil moved across the page in focused lines, but it wasn't a drawing that took shape – it was a letter. Long, neat lines of text filled the page.

Every now and then, I would glance up from my writing to observe Minji. She was caught up pruning the garden with her back to me, and the two rabbits hopped beside her in playful movements. The rabbits…

 A smile tugged at my lips. 

“Of course.” I spoke softly, my words a quiet solace as I continued to pen the letter.

Nightfall blanketed the cottage, the familiar chirping of insects providing a soft soundtrack to my work. The dining table served as my makeshift studio, scattered with papers as I bent over my drawing.

"What are you drawing?" 

I didn't notice Minji until she was standing right behind me, her hair wet from the shower. I jumped, startled by her sudden presence.

"Uh-- just Baek and I underneath the plum tree," I responded, my voice slightly shaky from the surprise. Spread across the table were several renditions of the same scene: Baek and I, lying peacefully beneath the plum tree, gazing at the clouds.

Minji studied the drawings for a moment before asking, "Why so many?"

"I just miss him," I admitted quietly, my gaze fixed on the paper in front of me.

Minji sighed softly. "I’m so sorry, sweetie. Don’t worry, you’ll forget about him soon." She then moved towards the bedroom, but before she could disappear entirely, I called out to her.

"Miss Park?"

"Hm?" she replied, pausing in her tracks.

"Can I borrow some scissors?" I asked. There was a brief silence before she answered.

"Why?"

"I want to cut out some clouds," I explained.

"Clouds?" Minji echoed, sounding puzzled.

I just nodded in response, trying to put on my most innocent face.

Minji’s puzzled expression softened. “Sure.”

***

My walk through the woods was silent, save for the occasional crunch of snow under my boots. I was bundled up in a large, puffy winter jacket with a thick scarf wound tightly around my neck to keep the biting cold at bay. A soft snowfall had begun, dusting the landscape in a layer of white and signaling the onset of winter.

Around me, most of the trees had shed their leaves, their branches skeletal against the gray sky. Only a few resilient bushes clung onto their greenery. As I walked alongside the stream, I noticed the faint scorch marks that marred the bark of some trees, a stark reminder of the recent fire.

There’s something profound about the barren trees in winter. Their skeletal frames, devoid of leaves and life, stand resolute against the cold sky, almost like me in this so-called "habitat"-- bare and stripped down. The falling snowflakes, each one unique and transient, remind me of moments in time. Just as the snow will melt and be replaced by another, the moments slip away, disappearing into the stream. But what is life, if not a collection of such moments? An endless array of snapshots, each one brimming with emotions, discoveries, and realizations. 

An endless array… shared with Baek. He's not alive, not in the technical sense. He's made of metal and wires, a robotic shell housing an artificial mind. And yet, to me, he seems more alive than anyone else I've known. More alive than my absent father, whose presence is merely a spectral echo in my life. Is the essence of life only the beating of a heart, the rush of blood through veins? Or is it the ability to feel, to care, to love?

How strange, that a being devoid of flesh and bone could understand me better than any human. Baek's existence, his companionship, his care - they lend color to my monochrome world. His life, his being, is a beautiful contradiction that defies my understanding of life itself.

What, then, does it mean to be alive? I have a heart that beats, I feel the blood that rushes to my cheeks in the cold, yet I'm trapped in this habitat, my life confined to a pre-set perimeter. But Baek, he may not have a heartbeat, but his 'life' touched mine. His kindness, his gentleness, the understanding in his eyes... They're real to me, realer than anything else in this artificial world.

Each barren tree standing tall against the winter, each falling snowflake melting into the stream, whispers the same truth to me. Life is not a mere act of existing, it's a journey of experiencing. Experiencing emotions, connections, memories. And by that definition, Baek is as alive as I am, perhaps even more so. 

The essence of life is not the ticking of a biological clock, but the depth of the impressions we leave on the hearts and minds of others.

A rustling sound caused me to turn, coming face to face with one of the two rabbits. Its small nose twitched as it stared at me with curious eyes. I returned its gaze for a moment before making a face and turning back to the stream. In front of me lay the chokepoint, the very spot where Baek and I had planned on snagging the buck.

My mind flashed back to the scene I had observed back at the research facility - the mailroom, the mail truck filled with overstuffed bags of mail and packages. The image was stark and clear in my mind, as if it was imprinted there.

When I turned back around, the rabbit was gone. Its sudden disappearance didn't unsettle me; instead, I continued my stroll, my mind lost in thought as I moved through the quiet winter woods.