1 One, Past Inhibitions.

"And from here going forward, everything in her life would tear apart -all over again".

Beyond the jostle of Seoul lies Chaesan, a town by the sea, lying south of the city. Laden with green mountains and despair to match, the people here led lives of routine and minor business, you know, typical small-town stuff. Early on a Monday, a lithe yet blank-faced woman turned around the market on her usual path to work as it filled the air with the early morn sale of 'soboro', Korean bread of sorts. As she walked, the sun slowly disappeared, and it began drizzling, a cold gust of wind blew right through her. Her hands remained locked in her coat pockets, Jittery legs picking up the pace. Right in the middle of the marketplace stood a quaint little printing store, the only one in the area. The door chime rang as she entered, quickly closing the door behind her and letting the unforeseen monsoon breeze enter along.

"Alaya is that you?" A bald little man with a terrible excuse for a moustache popped out from behind a photocopier. The young lady took off her now drenched coat, "Good, you're here. Get working on that banner for the festival we don't have all summer. Also, I'd appreciate if you got here on time for once."

"I get here at 8 a.m. sharp every single day, Mr. Yun"

The man, seemingly named Mr. Yun took a quick glance at his watch and looked back at his employee. His ruddy mustache, that had become a ghastly shade of orange due to cheap hair dye overuse, wiggled in disagreement, "Well, you're wrong. You entered precisely at four minutes past eight. Not exactly on time is it?" he gave her a satisfied smile and returned to his office in the back.

Having been accustomed to her boss's intense behaviour every day, she sighed and took a seat at her desk in the right corner. The walls were terribly chipped, printing machines that needed some long due dusting stood in a row and the place reeked of mold that had probably been there since the store's inception. To say in the nicest way possible, Mr. Yun was a delusional man who appreciated profit but simply denied the fact that his business was falling apart. Literally. One would simply describe 'Haetsal Prints' as sad. Yes, sad would suffice. Her computer prepared to load; the usual tone rang into the distance as the printers were switched on. Scrunching her eyes at the screen, her dainty fingers clicked at the mouse. Mr. Yun insisted on "appropriately well-lit computers", enough to turn me blind someday, she thought

A sigh of frustration escaped her furrowed lips.

Miserable, lonely, and utterly dull.

Every time summer came around, those were the words she'd describe her current scenario with if anyone were concerned enough to ask. Not like her life was anything spectacular before that. But anything was better than this, she thought.

She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes in exhaustion, getting off the desk. Any other day, she would've come in with her usual average level of enthusiasm; she had nothing else to do anyway. However, this day had been particularly more miserable; her mother's birthday.

It was one of those days that left her unsettled, to say the least. Alaya regretted this day's arrival every year, each time hesitating to send her a letter or any sort of communication. Alas, her pride never allowed her to. Lida was better off without her, and since it was Alaya that insisted they lived apart, she couldn't complain. It would be too big of a hit to her ego for her to reach out now after nine years had passed. The last thing she needed was a billion questions from her mother asking what she was doing with her life. Dull as it was, Alaya survived enough with what she had.

She stepped outside for a bit and grasped the environment around the workplace. It was always the same scene, people running around to either buy or sell goods, children scurrying sneakily to the beach at dawn for footsie matches, and her lazy neighboring shop owner, Mr. Ji-Hun snoozing his way through the daily newspaper. To be honest, she liked being part of such a town, but never really had the first choice for employment.

This job is a luxury, the only source that allows her to live as she had desired for years, and also to so anonymously. It may not be the most fulfilling, but it kept her busy and denied her past inhibitions. And that was all she needed.

It was soon noon, and Alaya eventually got her sore behind off the desk. Eager to get out, she tiptoed her way out of the store, not wanting to be caught by her annoying boss. A relieved breath escaped as she grabbed tighter onto her coat. The beach was approximately five minutes away from work. She walked at a normal pace, however not slowing down too much as she had only half an hour to spare. Turning the corner around the old camphor tree where the elderly folks of the town had made reserved, she kept her head low and her fists tightened in her pockets. The wind is undeniably at its strongest serve today. Soon, there came a narrow passage, it was a lonely shortcut to the seaside and was one Alaya usually preferred. As she walked, she sensed a presence behind her. The girl usually had a hunch for such things. However, her stomach grumbled and the sound of lunch distracted her enough to keep her feet going.

The footsteps got louder; she assumed it was a few kids walking to the beach as well.

But no one ever uses this shortcut, she thought. The narrow passage came to an end an empty space was spotted below a palm tree. As she went to sit down, an arm reached out for her shoulder. Alaya swiftly turned and locked the person's arm, she kneed his back and the person fell straight into the sand. The stranger, a dark-haired male, held his back as he grunted in pain.

She scrunched her eyes to get a better look at him, "Who the hell are you?"

The young man snickered as if his ass hadn't been kicked two minutes ago, "You still got it, huh? Do you still go around beating up weird men?"

That voice, she thought.

"Gabriel?" her eyes widened. He smiled at her still lying miserably on the warm sand. The two adults, who seemed to have not been strangers, looked at each other surprised. It seemed like it was nine years ago again.

Standing there, having had an unexpected encounter, she realized; her past had indeed not disappeared, she had just chosen to run away from it. And from here going forward, everything in her life would tear apart -all over again.