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Knock It Off____________________________

A savior—a sudden guardian angel! She steps forward, and with a firm grip, pulls the door from Mei's trembling hands. Her slightly muscular arm holds the door steady, stopping the crushing sound that echoes through the hallway.

The tension eases. The conflict ends.

Yet no one really wins. Only pain lingers.

As if waking from a trance, Mei stumbles back from the door, retreating out of sight. Her footsteps echo in the distance, followed by the sound of something shattering inside. Maybe it's a vase—a symbol of something fragile, now broken. If she even has a mom who would care about such things. I can already picture Mei hiding under her blanket, trembling as guilt consumes her, reliving every second of Sohee's pain.

Sohee, pink eyes still wet, glances down at her red arm. Already bruising, it'll soon turn an ugly mix of purple and blue, then later yellow or green. I'd know—I guess I've been an expert on bruises in some past life. Or maybe it's just intuition.

The woman sighs beside us, turning to Sohee with an expression that says, "what am I going to do with these girls?" She grabs Sohee's arm gently, examining it as though her tears weren't enough proof of the pain. "This happened again?" she mutters, but I catch it.

Sohee, ever the martyr, tries to pull away. "I—I'm fine," she sniffs, trying to hold back more tears.

But the woman, clearly a scholar of human nature (and probably someone who rejected offers from NASA and Harvard in favor of solving mysteries like this), replies in a calm, big-sister tone, "No, you're not. Something triggered her again."

Triggered her... again? Another thing to add to the growing list of mysteries. I mentally note that I need to figure out what the hell is wrong with Mei. Not that I want to get involved, but if I don't, my endless cycle of suffering continues, and I might not die anytime soon.

Sohee's lips tremble, and she shakes her head. "It's my fault... I should've apologized to Mei."

The woman raises an eyebrow, silently questioning Sohee. Sohee, as usual, tries to hide behind her bangs but eventually speaks, slow and deliberate. "I... I brought her tutor without warning."

At that, the woman's sharp green eyes land on me. Another scan. Almost everyone loves to analyze me as if they can see something wrong—or taste something off. Broken. Misplaced. Different.

She crosses her arms, her tone sharp. "So, you're the tutor she mentioned."

Sohee nods, still cradling her injured arm.

I offer my signature gesture—placing my palm over my head and nodding slightly. "Yo."

Her frown deepens, as though my casual greeting has offended her. A finger lifts toward me, accusatory. "Why didn't you help her?"

I don't answer.

Her teeth clench at my silence. Her nose wrinkles as if she's caught a whiff of something rotten—probably me. Her clenched fist trembles like it might land on my cheek any moment. And if it did, I'd welcome it. Maybe I'd knock myself out for a while.

Thankfully, violence is avoided. For now.

"It's fine," Sohee interrupts, placing a hand on the woman's arm. Miraculously, it calms her. My cheek is spared for another day. "Sunbae did the right thing."

Have I ever done anything right? I don't know. But I'll take the credit. According to Life and Death, I'm "perfected"—a rare specimen of immortal asshole. Detached, and indifferent to the pain or death of others.

The woman snorts and shifts her glare away from me (Carrie used to do that, too. I wonder where she is? Has she finally been electrocuted by her gaming setup?). Her lips tighten as she mutters, "It's not all right. Not from my point of view."

"Sister Tammy—" Sohee's soft plea gets interrupted by a light scoff. The woman sighs—so, she's Tammy now.

"Drop the 'sister,' Sohee. How many times have I told you?" Tammy's eyes drift back to Sohee's arm. "Shouldn't you go home now? Or do you want me to help with that? I don't remember much first aid, but I've got some supplies at my place." She glances at me like I'm a piece of furniture. "Or maybe he could prove himself useful for once."

Does she think I don't know how to use a first aid kit? Even middle-schoolers do.

Sohee stares at the floor, reluctant. "I... I need to talk to Mei."

"Sohee..." Tammy's voice cracks for a second, then she clears her throat. A soft smile appears, reassuring. "Don't worry. I'll talk to Mei first."

With that, Tammy turns and disappears into Mei's apartment. The door closes softly, leaving the hallway in a heavy silence.

In that emptiness, I hear it—soft, muffled sobbing.

"Want to go somewhere?" I suggest to Sohee, gently. "Might help."

"It... It would," she whispers, sniffing.

I take a step closer, and without anyone around, I pull her into my chest. It's the least I can do after all the help she's given me. Plus, a little more affection might just push her feelings for me in the right direction.

May Sohee always be useful to me.