Dlbn: Hello, everyone! Welcome to another chapter!

Disclaimer: I own names but I don't own characters. Everything canon belongs to Koogi. I make NO money off this.

Dedication: It's the 28th birthday! Happy birthday to my birthday buddies Brittney, Heather, and Joe!

000

Crashing plates, loud cries to get out, and angry screams weren't something that a six-year-old should have been accustomed to. But as Sangwoo doodled on the side of his reading assignment, he realized he heard those noises a lot more in his life than other kids probably did. His friends didn't have parents that fought. Why did he? Not that he considered them to be good friends, anyway. He'd get bored of them eventually. Not like Bum. That kid was endlessly entertaining, though his apologies and crying were annoying. At least he'd be there when Sangwoo went back for the summer.

"Where's that good for nothing kid?" His father shouted. "Sangwoo! Get the fuck down here and clean up this mess your mother made!"

"Leave him out of this!" His mother weakly fought back. "He doesn't need to see you like this, Daeshim!"

"Shut up!" A slap. "Sangwoo! I won't call you again! Get your ass down here, you worthless brat!"

Sangwoo groaned, realizing it would be over with sooner if he just went and did what his father asked. He'd pretend not to notice his mother's bruised cheek and split lip. He'd pretend it wasn't her blood his father made him get on his hands and knees to scrub away. He'd pretend the smell of bleach wasn't overwhelmingly disgusting and that shards from the broken plates on the floor weren't digging into his skin.

"Sangwoo!"

He rushed downstairs, acting as if he was really in a hurry. "S-sorry, father…!" He threw himself at the bigger male's feet. "I was d-doing my homework, like you asked…"

"Well, now you're here cleaning, like I asked." He mocked, grabbing a fistful of Sangwoo's hair and shoving his face to the floor. "See the mess?"

"Y-Yes…"

"Daeshim, stop!" His mother grabbed his arm, but he flung her away to the floor.

"I'll deal with you later. Fucking bitch." He complained. "You know where the bleach is. Get to work. It better be spotless when my game is over, or it will be your blood you're cleaning next. Understood?"

"Y-Yes, father…!"

His father pushed his head against the floor once more before grabbing his mother roughly by the arm. "Come with me…"

"No...no…" She complained, digging her heels into the ground to try and stop him. He gave her a rough tug and shoved her into the living room.

"You know what to do." He snarled. "Unzip it. Now."

Sangwoo pretended not to hear his mother's muffled cries for help, pretended not to hear the lewd things spewing from his father's mouth. He crawled to the cabinets under the sink, eyes on the floor so he wouldn't have to see the graphic display in the living room. He knew his mother's eyes were on him, pleading for him to get the sense to run away and get help. He never would. What was the point? Mother would just lie when help arrived, so his father wouldn't haul off on her, would bribe him to be quiet with a few bucks in change or extra TV time after school the next day. Just like she did every time someone got concerned enough to call the police. Useless pigs.

He took the bucket from under the sink and stood to put water in it. The container of bleach never looked so welcoming before, but he pushed the dark thoughts to the deepest recesses of his mind. No matter what he thought, he couldn't act on it. Not when he had a sweet ravenette waiting for another summer.

Bum winced as his uncle cracked a belt across his backside, shouting out in pain. If she heard his shouts, Granny did nothing about it as she worked on dinner. It was the fourth time that month he'd gotten in trouble at school. All he wanted was to get the other kids to like him, even if that meant doing crazy dangerous things for Jieun or hoarding his snack and saying he never got one so Dongyu could have another later. He knew they were just using him to get things, but he longed for acceptance so much that he was willing to give it. Helping them slip a whoopie cushion onto Miss. Chiun's chair and then taking the fall when Jieun blamed him and he didn't have the brains to say it wasn't his idea was the straw that pushed his uncle over the edge.

"Didn't you learn last time, boy?" Uncle hit him again with the belt. "Stop fucking up!"

"I'm sorry…!" Bum cried. "I just...I just want to make friends…!"

"So, you become their patsy?" He didn't know what that meant, and he was certain his uncle knew that. "You're pathetic." Another slap. "How that neighbor boy tolerated your stupid ass for so long, I'll never know!"

"S-Sangwoo…" Bum muttered.

"What?"

"H-His name...it's Sangwoo…"

Another crack. "I don't really care." Uncle made him stand, giving one last slap to the back of his knees and almost making him tumble down. "Quit fucking up. Next time, you won't get away with so little punishment." He stood, putting his belt back on before leaving.

Bum sank to his knees, pushing the fatty parts of his palms into his eyes and weeping.

"I just want people to like me...why doesn't anyone like me…?" Bum cried.

No one...only…

Sangwoo.