Complexity

2 Months

"I'm home."

It still feels strange calling this place home. It's not mine. Not the one I was born in, at least, but I've been here long enough that my hands move around like they belong. The rhythm of this house feels familiar: the smell of freshly brewed tea, the faint music leaking from Xinyu's speaker, the sound of Handong humming while folding laundry. It's messy, loud, and warm. Something my real house never was.

I live here now. With Handong, Ningning, and Xinyu. And yes, I share a bed with Xinyu. Her only bed. Luckily, it's not a single bed, or else I'd be sleeping on the floor like some refugee. But even if it were a single bed... I'd still be grateful. Because at least I'd still be here. With her.

"Welcome back, Sohyun," Handong calls from the living room.

"There are cookies in the kitchen. Xinyu hasn't come home yet."

My heart drops.

"She hasn't?"

I glance at the clock. It's late, later than usual. Xinyu always texted when she'd be out. Always.

"Do you know where she went?" I ask, pretending to sound casual.

"Probably with Nien or Kotone," Handong answers.

That sounds... normal. But the unease in my chest doesn't go away. I tell myself I'm overthinking again. Like I always do and head to the kitchen.

The sight that greets me there almost makes me laugh. The kitchen looks like a battlefield. Flour everywhere, on the counter, the floor, even on Ningning's cheeks. There's no sign of cookies anywhere, only chaos.

"Are you... okay?" I ask carefully.

"Do you need help?"

"I'm totally fine," she says with a little too much confidence.

"Just sit there. The cookies will be ready in no time."

I nod obediently, sliding into a chair. My body's tired, my mind's tired, and I feel like if I close my eyes, I'll fall asleep right here. Then, out of nowhere, Ningning asks,

"How long have you been staying here?"

My thoughts spiral.

Is she asking because she wants rent? Or because I'm staying too long? Is she going to tell me to leave?

My stomach twists.

"Uh... probably almost two months," I reply.

"Nice then," she says with a casual smile.

Nice?! Nice what?! I'm overthinking again, aren't I?

Before I can say anything, the oven dings. She rushes to pull out the tray and sets it in front of me, a pile of slightly uneven, golden cookies that somehow smell perfect. I reach for one, but she stops me with a look. Serious. Too serious.

"I think you need to know this," she says. "You've been Xinyu's friend since day one. She knows everything about your past. About your family. So I think it's only fair that you know about hers. Just to make sure."

My stomach knots tighter.

"What... do you mean by that?"

She slides me a glass of milk. And without a word, I understand, she wants to talk. The kind of talk that changes things. She doesn't start right away. Her movements are steady, her face unreadable, but her eyes... her eyes look older than usual. Tired in a way I haven't seen before. And then she begins.

Not out loud. Not exactly. It's more like her words sink into the air around us, filling the space between breaths.

She tells me that her real name isn't Ningning. That she used to be Ning Yizhou, a name that belonged to a different life. She met Xinyu when they were seven. Handong was thirteen. They met in a rehabilitation center for children. A place for the kind of kids society wants to forget. Handong was there because her father worked security. Ningning was there because she was the daughter of a drug dealer. And Xinyu was there because she'd killed her parents.