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Aeri hates loud noises.
The girl, only recently having turned 16, is quick to startle. Shouting scares her and loud noise terrifies her. As a child, she once wet herself in the middle of an elementary classroom filled with snot-nosed, judgmental kids, because honking for a car outside had surprised her. Now, her reactions to noise are not quite as extreme but she still does not like it.
Which is perhaps the main reason she dreads going to school. High schoolers are loud and Aeri hates it. She hates it but attends nonetheless because the alternative is worse.
A hesitant knock on the door of her bedroom is Aeri's usual wake-up call. A "It's time for school. Wake up, dear." would always follow it shortly, spoken softly in a voice uncharacteristically low for her mother.
Attuned to the sound, Aeri wakes from her slumber. Carefully, she slinks out of bed and begins her meticulous morning routine. She leaves her bedroom fifteen minutes later, fully dressed. She dons her school uniform, consisting of an unflatteringly stiff white collared button-up under a green cardigan, a green plaid skirt that stops at her knees, a pair of white awkward-calf-length socks, and her black sneakers. Her chopped black hair (which she always kept strictly above her shoulders after an incident involving gum, scissors, and a lot of tears) is brushed out, and the front few pieces pulled back with a few tiny clips. Her ears glittered with fake earrings (since she could never get herself to get piercings). Her bag was black and plain, but from the zipper dangled a portable emergency alarm, pepper spray, and hand sanitizer (the poor metal piece was so strained that Aeri had to take special care when opening her bag).
Making her way into the kitchen, Aeri did not bother sitting down at the dining table that her father already occupied. Instead, she grabbed the sandwich her mother had made for her and walked out of the door with a kick "love you. Goodbye," and a peck on each of her parents' cheeks.
The moment the front door closed behind her, Aeri heard the muffled beginnings of her parents falling into yet another argument. They always fought, over the most minuscule things. If she chooses not to put up with loud high schoolers one day and simply not attend school, her arguing parents would make sure she was just as uncomfortable, if not more. So, while she disliked it, Aeri never seriously considered leaving school.
Yet, in all fairness, her parents always made sure their fights were not in her presence, ever so aware of her tendency to startle (and weep shortly after) at the tiniest hints of aggression.
Stepping out of the small apartment she shared with her parents, Aeri leaned against the door; waiting. Precisely on time, a person steps out of the apartment next to hers, and comes to stand before her (and tower over her). Unperturbed by the morning gloom Aeri is obviously under, Cheongsan offers a bright grin.
Aeri tries to return it, duly noting that the day is going exactly to routine.
Two years ago, when Cheongsan first started quizzing her on every facet of her morning routine (only a month after her family settled into the apartment complex where Aeri first met Cheongsan), Aeri had been puzzled, to say the least. But then, the very next day, Cheongsan left his apartment at the exact time she stepped out of hers, he had skipped over to her with a smile and a loud greeting. Sheepishly, he had apologized for raising his voice and joined her on her commute to school. Since then, their routines have yet to fall out of synchronization.
