TWO AND A HALF YEARS EARLIER . . .

Hwoarang impatiently waited for the plane to arrive.

For some unknown and probably illconcieved reason, Baek had made arrangments with an old friend of his, Michelle Chang, to have her daughter shipped off to live in Korea with them for a year to attend school and "observe the culture". Apparently, Julia, Michelle's daughter, had been born and raised on an Indian reservation in Arizona, but Michelle had married a white American in recent years who had moved them off of the reservation. To hear Michelle tell it, Julia was a f---ing genius who had been taking Korean language courses practically since birth but was yet to have any "practical application" for her mad skills. Hence, she was using her handy-dandy Korean contacts as an excuse to get her teenager out of her hair for a whole year, cleverly disguising it as a learning experience.

Patience may have been a virtue, but impatience was faster. It wasn't long before the plane landed and the passengers began to exit the plane. Hwoarang knew it was her from the picture that Michelle had sent them. The picture hadn't done her justice. It hadn't been a particularily bad picture, but she was much prettier in real life. Her thick, stick-straight brown hair was evenly parted, falling flat across her face and shoulders, ending somewhere halfway down her back. She wore a basic white T-shirt printed with some indistinguishable red and black logo, some old carpenter jeans, and a pair of grubby white sneakers with the laces left untied. A simple shot-bead necklace ornamented her neck and her sharp blue eyes were enhanced by a pair of glasses with thick, black, rectangular lenses. Her shoulders were burdened with a large black duffle bag and her hands were jammed into her pockets. She looked about herself with uncertainty.

When Julia spotted them, Baek gave her a slight wave, and she headed toward where they were standing. "You must be Baek," she said in perfect Korean, sticking out her hand and smiling enigmatically. She was even prettier when she smiled. Baek took her hand hand and shook it firmly.

"And you must be Miss Julia," he answered, returning her smile. Julia shifted her gaze over to Hwoarang. Her penetrating expression caught him off-gaurd.

"And who is this?" she queried, tilting her head slightly.

"This is my son Hwoarang," replied Baek, putting a hand on Hwoarang's shoulder.

"Hi," was all that Hwoarang said, and flatly at that. Julia's smile just sort of fizzled off and died somewhere. This made Hwoarang wish that he hadn't been so cool towards her.

"Well . . . we should probably get going," suggested Baek, who suspected that it would probably be wise to break up this little lovefest.

"Yeah," was all that Julia said in response.

After they had walked for a little bit, Julia seemed to brighten up a bit. "So, I would've been here a few days earlier, but Mom and my grandmother, they were absolutely insistent that I celebrate my sixteenth birthday at home with them so . . ."

"Really? When is your bithday?" asked Baek with only mild interest.

"Two days ago; August first."

"That's my birthday!" cried Hwoarang.

"That's interesting," Baek commented dryly.

"That makes me exactly one year older than you."

"It sure does," agreed Julia, rolling her eyes. She did not like Hwoarang that much. "I seem to know a lot of people who are born in August," continued Julia, who seemed to enjoy talking, "Most of my friends are, but, of course, while they're all getting cars for their sixteenth birthdays, my dad buys me clothes for my birthday!"

"What a travesty," muttered Hwoarang.

"So he is your real dad, then?"

"Well . . . I don't know my dad dad. I'm adopted . . . so this new guy's good enough, I suppose."

Baek silently wondered if this was how all adopted children felt, more importantly, how Hwoarang felt. He hoped not. From what little information he had gleaned from Hwoarang, his birth father hadn't exactly been a role model.

Julia continued to speak. "As long as I do my chores and don't break curfew or anything like that, he's cool. He's funny, too, which is always good . . . Then, of course, there's my grandmother, who is under the impression that all teenagers have to be kept under close guard and punished preemptively or they will screw up their lives, as well as yours." Baek chuckled at that.

"Yes, well, that does seem to be true of some teenagers . . ." Baek mused, sending a sidelong glance in Hwoarang's direction. Hwoarang remained silent.

Julia kept on filling the air with mindless chatter. It was relaxing in a way . . . He hated to admit it, but Hwoarang was actually enjoying it. He was never one to talk that much so having her around helped ease those awkward silences.

------

As they drove to Baek's dojang, the car was quiet. In contrast to the talkative person she had been at the airport, Julia now seemed very withdrawn. She listlessly stared out of the window, watching the city pass by. She could feel Hwoarang's stare boring into her. What the f--- was his problem??? She really didn't like him.

Well, maybe she like him a little bit.

------

That night, Hwoarang walked into the bathroom and found Julia brushing her teeth. Man, it was sure going to be weird having another person around the house. Especially one who talked as much as this particular creature did. He stood in the doorway and watched her with interest. She kept sending annoyed glances his way, but he paid her no heed. Finally, she finished. "It's official," Hwoarang reported. "Everyone looks ugly when they brush they're teeth . . . even someone as pretty as you." Her jaw dropped.

"Are you flirting with me???"

"Nope, sorry. Must've been your imagination," he answered, winking at her. She blinked her eyes a few times.

"Great. You're like the mean older brother I never had gone . . . terribly wrong." Hwoarang laughed as he applied toothpaste to his toothbrush. Fuming, Julia started to stomp out of the room.

"Hey, wait." She slowly turned back around to face him. "Listen, sorry for picking on you. That was kind of my really lame attempt at making you feel more comfortable. I know it must be hard, being shipped off to a foreign country." Julia smiled at him.

"You're right," agreed Julia, ". . . that was really lame." That one made both of them laugh. "But . . . um . . . thanks for trying."

"Anytime," answered Hwoarang, saluting her. She laughed again, shaking her head.

"I think I'm gonna like you. Sweet dreams." Hwoarang watched her walk down the hall and disappear into her bedroom.

Maybe having her around wasn't going to be so bad.

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