Tak Dong Kyung arrives at the funeral home, her young male writer, Siberia, lost his Grandfather. As his editor, she offers her condolence, supports his efforts and their publishing company will take care of him until he is ready to write more online stories. Walking out of the hall, temporarily pauses, a familiar sight, an older woman's picture, crying family members.
Standing in the narrow hallway, someone abruptly brushes past, knocks into Dong Kyung, throws her off balance. Hearing a soft voice say, "Excuse me, sorry." She looks up, as a petite girl, wearing a red hoodie walks further down the hallway, just barely glances back. Dong Kyung glimpses short, straight black bob cut hair style, soft featured face. Shaking her head, images flood her mind, a man kneeling, tears flowing down his wet face, pained. Black hair, dark black eyes, thick, full lips, well defined high cheek bones, handsome…Myeol Mang. She has seen him before at this funeral home, as a little girl, when her parents died. He was there…in so much pain, crying. He lied…he did feel emotions…cries…what made him stop?
Sitting at the bus stop, Dong Kyung stares, lost in thoughts, confusion sets in, barely hears the traffic on the street, flinches as little God, still wearing a red hoodie and jeans, sits down next to her on the bench. " Unni, what bus do I need to take if I want to go to Myeondong Hospital?" Dong Kyung barely glances up as a bus pulls to a stop in front of them, quickly she responds, "Oh… this one…" Little God says, "Oh it was this one…I see…" She moves closer to the older woman, notices as the red car drives up and parks. She sees a angry, frantic, Myeol Mang stepping out of the car, striding over to their spot. Little God reaches out to touch the red bracelet on Dong Kyung's wrist, "Unni, where did you buy such a pretty bracelet?" Almost on the verge of touching the bracelet, he cries out "Tak Dong Kyung!"
At his angry growl, breaks her concentration, pulls her hand away from Little God, who smiles as the couple argue. Dong Kyung says, "Hey how did you find me? It's ok, I have something to ask you." Myeol Mang tugs on her hand, holding her purse strap, "Let's go home. We can talk there." Feeling frantic, he desires getting her away from Little God, as he is uncertain what her intentions are towards Dong Kyung, all he is certain, is a sickening fear that is causing him pain. On her part, Dong Kyung is unaware of any potential danger, "Hey, what is wrong with you? I have seen you before." He stops pulling on her purse, turns, shock written across his face, "What?" Looking at him directly, she says, " I saw you in the past, at a funeral hall. You were crying, right? I remember now. You said that you don't eat, sleep or have any other emotions. You said you don't have any reason to feel sad for anyone. What a lie. And you cried so much like that!" His gaze fixed on her own, lips barely moving, "What are you saying? It wasn't me." Sitting on the bus bench, amused, little God leans forward, meets his eyes, says, "Ohm… even adults cry, I see. Bus is here!" At those timely words, leaps up, climbs the steps and takes a window seat facing the couple. Myeol Mang turns stares pointedly at little God, knows she is up to some mischief and will have to patiently wait before he can discover her reasoning, as if that's ever been possible. As the bus drives away from the stop, little God observes the duo debating over the facts, secretly smiling, she can not make this an easy win for either of them. Their fate is intertwined now.
Back home, Dong Kyung washes her face and brushes her teeth for bedtime, coming out of the bathroom, sees Myeol Mang stretched out on his couch. One muscular arm is draped over his face, back of his hand covering his eyes, while the other arm rests across his broad chest. Viewing his motionless body, she jokes, "For someone who claims to not sleep, you certainly appear as if you are sleeping. Why sleep there, when you have so many other rooms?" Lowering his arm, he says, "Because something might happen to you." Surprised at his serious comment, places a hand to her chest, "Because something might happen to me. You mean because I might do something to your house?" At her words, he sits up, agitated, says, "Hey quit your job. Stay home." Chuckling, she says, "Even if I don't have many days to live. There is still a house bill, food, gas…what will I do with all these expenses?" Staring, a very serious tone, states, "Wish for money, I will give you plenty..," Shaking her head, she tells him, "I don't want to waste my wish on something like that…"
Intently gazing at her, growls, "Don't you think your letting your cguard down too much, don't show that bracelet to just anyone. It can become your weakness." Dong Kyung crosses her arms protectively across her chest, a teasing tone, "Do you like me? You are acting very weird since earlier. Your eyes are saying you might which is making me feel embarrassed." Narrowing his eyes, pouting lips, he replies, "Since I am not human, I don't know what that means looking at you in a way that make you feel embarrassed." Flopping back on the couch, resumes his previous position, mildly feeling annoyed by the conversation.
Rising from her own couch, Dong Kyung walks into his living room, checks her phone. "Almost midnight, hand please." At these words, he holds out his hand, palm up, for her to place a warm, soft hand into his own. Kneeling, she gazes at his face, less intimidating with his black eyes closed. She observes contours of his cheeks, fullness of lips, length of eyelashes, and thinks how handsome he appears relaxed. She says, "You really don't remember me. We were right across from one another in the hall. My face has stayed the same while I grew up prettily. Look at you, indeed you are sleeping." Myeol Mang lay there quietly, closed eyes, holding her hand, moving his head, softly spoke, "I'm not asleep. I haven't slept for a second while you have been sleeping all these times. That means I am always awake while you are defenseless. It's dangerous on many levels." Smirking, as she lets go of his hand, quickly rises and walks away, Turning around, she asks, "But why were you crying that day? Who did you lose?" He replies, "My Mother. To put it like that, roughly." Pausing in her steps, contemplates his words, shrugs, says, "You did cry!" Rising up from his shoulders, snarls, "I didn't!" Before any more words are exchanged she clicks off her apartment lights and the house is entirely dark, ending their conversation.