In the corner of a small, comfortable room stood a modest desk, quietly holding its place as if it had always belonged there. A lamp rested upon it, its soft golden light spilling gently over the surface—illuminating open books, scattered notebooks, and an array of colorful pens and pencils arranged in a way that seemed messy at first glance, yet carried a certain creative order. On an open notebook, neat lines of carefully written notes revealed hours of patient effort.
At the desk sat Nau Rin.
She wore a soft, warm sweater, and a pair of thin, frameless glasses rested lightly on her nose—so different from the ones she wore at school. Her gaze remained fixed on the pages before her, focused yet calm. One hand moved steadily as she wrote, while the other supported her chin. There was a peacefulness in her expression, a quiet diligence that made the room feel serene.
Through the window, the evening city lights shimmered in the distance, flickering like stars brought down to earth. A faint melody lingered in the room, soft and unobtrusive, adding to the peaceful atmosphere. Beside her, a cup of tea released gentle wisps of steam, hinting at the long hours she had spent absorbed in her studies.
After some time, she stretched lightly, easing the tension from her body, before slowly standing up. With unhurried steps, she made her way downstairs.
There, her mother sat in front of the television, quietly engrossed in a movie, its glow dancing across her face. Her father, however, had yet to leave his study, remaining inside ever since finishing dinner.
She walked over and sat down beside her mother.
"What are you watching?" she asked.
Her mother glanced at her gently.
"A sitcom," she replied.
Nau Rin kept her eyes on the screen.
"What's it about?" she asked again.
"It shows the funny, everyday life of a big family," her mother explained.
By then, Nau Rin had already settled comfortably into the couch, leaning her head against the backrest.
"I see…" she murmured softly, her gaze fixed on the television.
After a while, both mother and daughter became absorbed in what was happening on screen, and before long, they found themselves laughing together.
Just then, her father stepped out of his study.
"What's going on? Why are you two laughing like that?" he asked.
Still smiling, Nau Rin turned slightly.
"This sitcom is really funny. You should come watch it too."
Nau Rin shifted to one side of the couch, and her father sat down on the other. The three of them continued watching, laughing together as the episode went on.
As the show neared its end, her mother glanced at Nau Rin.
"Which of the two boys do you like better?" she asked.
Without a moment's hesitation, Nau Rin answered,
"The younger one."
Her parents exchanged a peculiar "Hmm…" before turning back to the screen with faint, knowing smiles.
Noticing them, Nau Rin smirked slightly.
"What's with that smile?" she asked.
Her parents shrugged almost at the same time.
"What do you mean?" they said, feigning innocence.
Nau Rin narrowed her eyes at them.
"You're being way too obvious."
They avoided her gaze and looked elsewhere.
After a brief pause, her mother asked again,
"What do you like about the younger one?"
Both of them turned to look at her. Nau Rin let out a small sigh.
"That's the wrong question," she said.
"What?" her mother asked, surprised.
"You asked 'which one is better,'" Nau Rin replied calmly.
"Is there a difference?" her mother pressed.
"Of course," Nau Rin answered shortly, her eyes still forward.
Her mother paused, thinking for a moment, then spoke carefully,
"If you ever get a boy… friend, you can tell us. You don't have to hide it."
Her father shook his head slightly.
"That's right, no need to hide it . You shouldn't hide it anyway… though you're just so small," he added, looking at her.
"Instead of thinking about things like that, how about thinking about what kind of person you want to become?" he said.
Nau Rin looked at them in turn.
"Being parents must be hard," she said.
Before her mother could respond, her father answered,
"It is. You're only seeing a part of the whole picture."
Mrs. Go lightly kicked Mr. Go under the table and shot him a smile.
"What do you mean 'hard'? Of course it's not," she said playfully.
After saying that, she tidied up the things on the table and headed toward the kitchen.
Nau Rin got up and followed her, while her father remained on the couch, watching the news.
Mrs. Go placed the cups into the sink and began washing them. Just then, Nau Rin came up behind her and leaned lightly against the counter.
"Your hair has gotten quite gray. Aren't you going to dye it?" she asked.
Without turning around, Mrs. Go continued washing the dishes.
"At my age, is there really a need to dye it? Even if I do, it'll just turn gray again soon enough," she replied.
Nau Rin stood there in silence for a moment.
"Mm…" she murmured faintly, then said nothing more and returned to her room.
When the clock neared nine, she rose from her chair and lay down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. After a while, she suddenly got up, put on her jacket, and headed downstairs.
The light in her father's study was still on. Her mother seemed to be getting ready for bed, moving in and out of her room.
"I'm going to the store for a bit," Nau Rin said before stepping out of the house.
Not long after, Mrs. Go entered her room. She noticed something placed on the bedside table. Walking over slowly, she sat on the edge of the bed and picked it up.
It was a box of hair dye.
A small note was attached to it:
I was going to get black, but I thought this color would suit you better. If you don't like it, tell me—I'll get you another one.
Beside the note was a tiny, hand-drawn smiley face.
A faint smile touched Mrs. Go's lips, yet her eyes shimmered with tears, which soon began to spill over and slowly trace their way down her cheeks.
As her tears slid down her cheeks, a memory flashed suddenly through her mind.
It had been a calm, sunlit day, the air warmed by gentle sunlight and softened by a steady breeze. Worried that her daughter might feel too hot, Mrs. Go had placed a straw hat on her head and led her outside, holding her hand.
It wasn't rush hour, so the market seemed quieter than usual, with fewer people and a subdued atmosphere.
She had been standing in front of a vegetable stall, carefully choosing what to buy, when she heard faint whispers behind her. Listening more closely, it was clear they were talking about her daughter , and in passing, her. When she turned around, she saw that it was the vendors. They quickly cut off their conversation and looked away as if nothing had happened, though she could feel their sidelong glances lingering.
Mrs. Go tried not to pay it any mind. After finishing her purchase, she moved on.
But the deeper she went into the market, the heavier the air seemed to become, as though an invisible burden was pressing down on her shoulders. Each step felt heavier than the last, dragging as if her feet were sinking into mud. It wasn't only the vendors—people passing by would linger their gaze on her daughter, then look at Mrs. Go with cold expressions tinged with unease and curiosity. The constant murmur of whispers brushed past her ears without end until it felt as though every pair of eyes in the market was fixed solely on them, making it hard for her to even breathe.
She unconsciously tightened her hold on her daughter's hand and lowered her eyes. The girl, as if she hadn't noticed anything at all, simply smiled back at her.
Mrs. Go bent down slightly.
"You're tired, aren't you? Let's head home," she said softly.
But the smile that had just been there faded from the girl's face. She dropped her gaze, lightly tracing the ground with her foot.
"Arim…" Mrs. Go called.
The girl slowly raised her head and looked into her mother's eyes.
"Don't you want to go home?" she asked.
Arim lowered her head again. After a short silence, she spoke in a small voice,
"Can we stay a little longer… before we go back?"
Those few words made Mrs. Go's chest tighten.
They didn't return home right away. Instead, they went to a small playground near their house and sat there for a while. Aside from a few mothers out walking their children, the place was nearly empty.
Arim sat beside her, happily swinging her legs, her face bright with joy as she ate her ice cream.
Mrs. Go gently wiped her mouth.
"Don't you want to play?" she asked.
The girl glanced around and gave a faint shake of her head. There were no other children at the playground.
Seeing this, Mrs. Go threw the empty ice cream wrapper into a nearby bin and led her daughter to the seesaw. She seated Arim on one side and sat on the other.
The seesaw began to move—slowly, gently, rising and falling.
A smile lit up the girl's face.
"Higher! Higher!" she called out, her voice growing louder with excitement.
They laughed together, playing like that for a long time.
After a while, Mrs. Go took her into the bathroom and sat her down in front of the mirror. Then she brought out the hair dye she had bought earlier that day and began carefully dyeing her hair.