He dragged his ego and his feet behind, then walked towards the front door of Kang hae-in’s house. He rang the door with an inconsistent rhythm and conflicting thoughts. She opened the door not long after, as if she had anticipated someone, but she did not.

“Oh, hello” - Kang Hae-in

“Good morning, I thought I should come by and say something.’’ - Jiwon

“I don’t believe there was anything left unsaid.. was there?”

Kang hae-in was worried that he’d changed his mind about the repair fee’s, she sounded rather hostile, and guarded, like a rodent putting up a strong front. Not because she couldn't afford it, but because she didn't like when someone went back on their word.

" I realized I hadn’t properly thanked you for the rice cakes you sent me the other day.” - Jiwon

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, we gave them to the whole neighborhood” - Haein

She gave a quick smile and attempted to close the door, but he quickly placed his foot in the doorway without thinking about how creepy that'd be.

“It’s not that, they were really good, is it possible for me to buy any?” - Jiwon

“Buy? We don’t sell them, but if you liked them, I wouldn’t mind making some more.” - Haein

“Yes, i’d appreciate that-” - Jiwon

She once again pulled the door to shut it once and for all, but he wouldn’t allow it to end already.

“Wait!-”

He grabbed the side of the door gently and opened it wide enough to peek inside,

“What’s the rush?” - Jiwon

“Is there anything else?” - Kang Hae-in

“Can you teach me how to make them?” - Jiwon

“Teach you?” - Kang Hae-in

“Yes, I can’t keep bothering you to make me some every time, can I?” - Jiwon

“Alright, however, after this I don’t owe you anything, right?” - Kang Hae-in

“Alright.” - Jiwon

“Promise?’’ - Haein

“Promise.”- Jiwon

“5 o clock” - BANG!— She finally succeeded in closing the door.

It was 11 am, Jiwon had plenty of time until he had to learn how to make honey rice cakes with Hae-in. He lived close to the han river, sometimes he liked going there and looking at people, how ordinary people lived their lives. He watches as the college friends have picnics and the families eat breakfast together. He bought a watermelon Popsicle, like when he used to come here with his grandma when he was younger. But Jiwon couldn’t just be regular, he can’t just go on a ordinary stroll and enjoy a cold Popsicle in a hot day like this. He wasn’t there for fun, he was there to compose his mind, his thoughts, before he had to commit murder. He’d think about how every person there is an actual person, how they have their own thoughts, feelings, and values, how they care for each other, their families. It was to take note of what he was about to do, to really absorb what he has chosen to do. He could’ve been there, like them, ordinary people. Who he is, is a well thought outcome of multiple choices he’d taken. Every action he takes, belongs to him and him alone. He sat on a shadeless bench in a blacked out outfit under the sun, as if he was already in mourning for the murder he was yet to commit, as if time doesn’t exist.

Some kids accidentally kicked the ball too close to him, “Uncle! Can you pass the ball back?” but all he did was stare. Jiwon blinked slowly and stared down at the ball, their word’s were completely disregarded, in this world, in his, there were no children, no toys, no happiness, just blatant self torture. Whenever he had planned to kill someone, people don’t even look real anymore, their words turn into nothing more than horrific jazz, haunting loud noise like scretching a chalk board. They’d have no faces, he’d hypnotize himself into face blindness. He’d be among people to acknowledge that they are real, but he doesn’t want to see what he believes. He didn’t want to care about who they were even tho he knows, that they matter to someone else, that they are, real, even if he can't see their faces.