Ran is suffering from a severe case of writer's block. Adding to her current inability to focus on her multi-chaps, her laptop has also suffered a nervous breakdown and had to be sent to Silicon Valley rehab (she's updating from her Dad's PC :P). She is not sure what to make of this series except that it will be updated sporadically at best to treat said writer's block. She warns you that it is AU-like-woah! but thanks you nonetheless for reading. She also disclaims Tekken and its characters but would like to retain ownership of a certain two OCs in this fic.

Amie come sit on my wall
And read me the story of O
And tell it like you still believe
That the end of the century
Brings a change for you and me

- Amie, Damien Rice

12 o'clocks on Friday afternoons were the best thing about school. That was when they received their letters during English class, five minutes before the lunch-bell. She was second from the right in the middle row. Mr Lee started off from the front desk, a pair of myopic eyes straining behind silver wire-rimmed glasses as he pronounced each of their names in the unfamiliar foreign symbols adorning each letterhead.

'How's my favourite penpal doing? (Actually, my only penpal but my Dad says it's good to be nice to girls).'

She had taken to reading during recess time, her brown eyes fixed on the sheet propped on her lap, gleaming when a certain word or phrase popped up in the midst of the streams of painstakingly printed alphabets. His writing was bigger than hers and less spaced out. The lines in the t's sloped downwards precariously, the dots faint specks above the i's.

'I wasn't feeling very well yesterday. I ate a whole bowl of Cheerios and threw it all up over the carpet. You could see the circles in the puke.'

"What're Cheerios?" she asked, a few skips ahead of her old Haraboji, her grandfather, as usual on the way back home after afternoon classes.

The old man, still tall and strong as an ox from years of dedication to his craft, frowned in disapproval at the sound of an alien accent in that one spoken word. "American food, sounds like. Not good for you."

There had been a chocolate-chip cookie rattling about in her lunch-bag, contrasting oddly with the warm white rice and silver rounds of fish in the gimbap along with the tangy orange dollop of kimchi placed carefully in a plastic container to avoid a mess. Boji was especially a stickler for tradition, turning up his hooked nose at the glaring eyesores of fast-food chain-stores mushrooming rapidly over the course of the city. She made sure not to mention the cookie. If he knew, Mama would have to bear the brunt of his lectures, amusing as she often found them.

Along the side-walk was a row of miniature cement columns rising just up to the bottom of her knees. She stepped onto one, the hopped onto the next, careful not to lose balance while keeping her pace steady.

"Boji?"

"Careful there. You've already grazed your knee on the stairs..."

"When will I grow taller?"

'Tomorrow, I have to go shopping with my parents for new pyjamas because I outgrew my old ones. Yuck.'

"When you grow older, of course."

"Yie-Jie's birthday is in August and she's still taller than me."

"Well, March is only a few months away. You have plenty of time to catch up until your next birthday."

With a quick breath, she jumped off her pedestal and landed back on ground-level. "I don't think I can wait that long"

"Your Dad was small too, when he was six."

"Ah?"

"Yes." A small smile appeared on the older weathered face. "But things change. People grow. In many different ways."

"How?"

They rounded the corner, passing the green leafy persimmon tree hanging over someone's brick wall. One of her father's favorite stories to tell was about how Mama had mistaken the fruits hanging in the tree for miniature pumpkins. He would burst out laughing at the end of it and her mother would grumble slightly, which in itself was something quite rare.

"How many ways do people grow, Boji?"

"They grow taller, get stronger, smarter, all kinds of ways. They learn from where they went wrong and set themselves right. Like a supple young tree."

Having said so, he pulled out a tiny wooden pipe from his pocket and aimed it straight at the plumpest of the orange fruit. A thin needle shot out from one hollow end and cut through the ebony-green stalk, causing it to plummet right into her awaiting hands.

"Awesome!" she grinned, cupping her palms around the thick skin. "Can I have a go with that?"

"As I said before, you have plenty of time ahead of you."

To her disappointment, he pocketed the blowgun once again with a discreet smile on his face.

'We learned about the Great Wall of China today in History. Have you heard of it yet?'

Yes, she had. They called it a different name here but it was just the same. Her penpal liked flying kites and riding trains. He did not like the giant old sheepdog next door whom he was convinced (she'd had to look up that word) would try to swallow him whole if it got the chance. They both liked rainstorms and summer vacations. They both hated leeks and boring Math classes. His birthday was a few days ahead of hers, on the twenty-seventh. Hers was on the thirtieth. Just five more months and she would be able to reach the highest bars on the jungle-gym without needing a leg up.

'I heard the weatherman say that it's going to snow tomorrow. I hope so. That means we might have no school.'

She had seen a picture of snow in a picture-book about a red-nosed reindeer her grandmother had sent over for Christmas. It was white, glittery and looked like pieces of clouds. Would that mean the sky was really falling like that story about the silly little chicken who thought so? She thought about asking him about it in the next letter she wrote until she remembered that boys could be cruel and she didn't want him to think she was a silly chicken too because she wasn't, honestly, and it was just that the world seemed so much bigger when someone was so far away like he was, but she was learning as quickly as she could, really.

'Do you know what snow also means? Hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows! Yummy!!'

So snow must have many different meanings where he was from. Just like full moons meant fireworks at night with matching rice cakes for dessert soon afterwards. She would often eat and eat until she couldn't budge an inch and had to be carried back to her room when she fell asleep on the rug with her mouth open. That was something she could write about. Except the part about leaving her mouth wide open. Mama had taken a picture of her like that and sent it to Appa, her Dad, while he was somewhere across the country training his mind and body to become stronger for their sake. The photo was quite embarrassing but at least it would bring a smile to his face, she hoped.

The days felt quite empty with one less person in the house. She could even sense it in the wood on the dojang floor as it remained hard and firm beneath her touch, dead without the spring of high-flying kicks and jumps that normally reverberated through leaf-thin walls.

There were still the letters though. Letters to a friend she had yet to meet on the other side of the world. She would begin with the same two words that had started it all.

'Dear Aaron,'...

'Good news! It did snow! I stayed at home today and helped Mum make fruit cookies. They're just like regular cookies except with fruit juice instead of sugar so it's almost as good as eating a fruit salad (and less troublesome than making me eat an apple, Mum says). The planes can't fly today because the runways are all frozen over. That means Dad's stuck in Dublin today. I feel sorry for him because he didn't sound too happy about that on the phone...'

"Mama, where's Dublin?"

"In Ireland."

They were sorting through pictures on the bedroom floor. Boji could be heard snoring from the couch in the den where he'd sat down two hours ago to sort through a pile of 'damn bills'. A lot of the old photographs were of her when she was a baby, her first smile, her first tooth, her first step, all the way to her first bike.

"What're you gonna do with all of these?"

"I'm putting them in an album." Shaking a few loose strands of earth-brown hair from her eyes, her Mama picked up one of her in nothing but a fluffy yellow towel and grinned. "What do you think? Good enough for future blackmail?"

"I'll tell Boji about the cookies and candy bars."

"... Okay, you got me this time."

Inside the comfort of their own home, they could speak anyhow they liked. Earlier in the morning, she had listened to Mama's slow, careful enunciation in the local dialect and remembered how she'd helped with some of the more difficult words. The lady at the flower-shop had bent down, stroked her straight black hair and told her how cute she looked for a 'half-and-half' child. Mama had started suddenly, her cheeks stained red in anger and then Boji gave the woman a stern look before leading them both out of the shop. She had known better than to say anything more on that.

"Are you okay, Mama?"

She looked up at her quizzically. "Yes, I'm fine. What makes you ask that?"

"You cut a hole right through here." She pointed at the empty space where the picture should have gone. "Are you still thinking about that flower lady?"

"Sunny..."

"I'm fine, really. Nothing's bothering me, see?"

And she smiled her biggest smile, hoping she could chase these storm clouds away.

Mama just laughed and pulled her into a tight hug. It must have lasted forever, even if it was only for a few moments. When the grip loosened, she asked her when Appa would be coming home and how long that would take.

"He said he'd come home tomorrow."

"Has he found himself yet? How do you go looking for yourself when you're with you all the time?"

"The heart is like a compass, love. It points to wherever it hears a call. And in some people, their compass ends up broken or perhaps they weren't made whole to begin with, so their arrows keep spinning around in no direction."

Trailing off, she drew another photo from the pack. "Here he is."

Sunny squinted, unable to comprehend the silent image. "That's Appa?"

"Mm-hm."

"He looks different."

"Probably because he has more reasons to smile now." She felt a warm cheek nuzzle against hers. "I know I do."

"Boji says he used to have a lot of girlfriends before you. Didn't you care about that?"

"A little... actually, very much."

"Then why'd you choose him?"

"To be fair, I had a boyfriend too."

"What was he like?"

"He was smart, intelligent, funny, kind and handsome."

"It doesn't make a lot of sense..."

"I know. Fate has a funny way of dealing your cards. You'll understand better when you're older."

"... You and Boji are in this 'growing up' thing together, aren't you?"

'Dear Sunny,

I'm glad your Dad is back. So is mine. We're going to have a lot of fun.

The sheepdog doesn't want to eat me, I discovered. It only wanted to play and it's actually quite nice.'

She was awake before the dawn broke and taking flying leaps to her parents' bedroom in her nightgown. It was too early for the light to be out but she wanted to be the first to see the sunrise. One last skip, hop and a jump took her from the floor to a surprised 'oof!' from the figure lying next to her mother in the bed.

"Anyeong haseyo!"

"What time is it?" he asked, his voice coming out in a throaty rasp.

"Time to go to the beach!"

Mama woke up slowly, her hair out of its usual braid and a smile that made her seem more goddess than human. "Hwoarang, you promised."

He didn't say much. But if the corners of his mouth were anything to go by, he didn't seem to mind. They'd both been home when he'd returned, fresh and more awake since the month and a half he'd been away. She'd told Aaron about him, his long hair and his light brown eyes (like hers), drawn him a picture when she'd run out of words and hoped that it did her father justice. On paper, he was a stick figure with one arm shorter than the other and crayon-colored hair.

But he was the real thing now and she didn't have to pretend his voice was a fleeting melody in the empty space because he was here, right here, and he wasn't going anywhere, so her fingers running through his hair as she sat astride on his strong broad shoulders wasn't just a dream.

"My bones hurt." He whispered, half to himself and half to her.

"You sound like Boji."

"Oh?" Their eyes met and he smiled again, for how many times since he'd been here now? "And what did Baek say about me this time?"

"That you were short when you were my age and that I couldn't get any worse than you."

"True on both of those. I'm an original after all."

She added a smirk to the total smile tally for the day. The sun was still barely a crack over the surface of the ocean, the waves small and restless. They stepped onto the sand and she watched a little hermit crab scuttle away beneath the sand. She followed the trail of prints it left behind until she was at the edge of the breaking foam in the water.

"Don't go too far. The sea might mistake you for a lost fish and swallow you up."

"I know. Mama tells me that too."

"Yep, she's one wise young woman."

"Boji also tells me to never marry a boy like you. I forgot to tell you that."

"Hm." He joined her at the shore, quietly contemplating the patterns his toes made against the cold wet sand. "That may be a point."

"But I'm not getting married."

"No, you have a long way to go until then." (All this talk about growing up was really beginning to annoy her). "Besides, he'd have to get past me, then Baek, then me again because I don't back down so easily..."

"Appa, you're going too near the big waves."

He backed off immediately and she picked up from where he'd left off. "And anyway, I don't know any boys. Except Joon and Lee from my class. And the paperboy. And Kai in the dojang. And Aaron."

"Oh yeah, Aaron the penpal. How's he doing?"

"He's not afraid of sheepdogs anymore."

"I had a friend who didn't like dogs much. Which was funny, considering his last name was - "

"You know, I was trying to explain to him what my real name meant. Why does 'Soon-Yi' have to mean 'this goddess'? I don't think I'm like that. It's too different for me."

She kicked at the foam swirling around her feet as it receded back into the sea, far as it could go.

"For the record, I didn't name you. Your mother did." The salty spray drew back the curtain of hair fringing the corners of his jaw as he crouched lower beside her. "And I like your name. It's a lot better than what mine means, trust me on that."

She slid a stray wisp of his between her fingers. "Your hair used to be red. How come it's not anymore?"

"I don't feel red anymore."

"Then what color do you feel like? Black is a very sad color to feel like."

"Not black. I feel..."

The first ray of light struck the strand between her fingers, dabbing in it shades which had yet to be discovered. "I feel like light. Colorless, but it's light. It still shines. It formless, sometimes it can't be seen, but that's what makes it beautiful."

"I know."

"I sometimes feel red, sometimes blue, maybe even black but as long as I'm still Hwoarang, it doesn't matter."

"I know. Like how I'm 'Soon-Yi' sometimes, but 'Sunny' all the time."

The hair slipped free from her hands. Instead, she felt his rougher palm on her shoulder. "I couldn't have put it better myself. That's perfect."

"I guess."

The waves rushed forward, only to crash into the tiniest drops of water around them.

"I'm happy to be home."

"I'm happy you're back."

"Sarang hae, Sunny."

"Sarang hae."

He kissed her forehead.

'Dear Aaron,'

"Julia, have you seen my reading-glasses?"

'Mama seems to be really excited about talking to someone on the phone. She can't even hear my Grandpa looking for his glasses. He can see alright without them but he probably needs to them to read the papers. He can't make out anything on paper without them.'

"Ah, has Sunny been drawing again?" Baek squinted at the pieces of paper tacked to the refrigerator. "Is that a red-haired monkey? And the gorilla's very nice too."

'You know, I would be worried because I would have been thinking that she was talking to that old boyfriend of hers with blue eyes she sometimes mentions. But because my Dad's back, I'm not worried. She's happy and I'm very happy.'

Hwoarang peered at the drawings over Baek's shoulder. "I'm glad you think so. Because that red-haired monkey's supposed to be me and apparently, the gorilla is you."

Baek made an indignant sound in his throat and Julia's peal of laughter softened the effect.

'Is the snow really that cold in England?'

Baek's unwitting gaze fell on the third drawing. "Someone get me my glasses before I mistake this one for something else too."

"That's Aaron. He drew it." Sunny piped up from the kitchen table.

'Could you catch some and send it to me in a parcel please?'

Hwoarang stared at the address on the envelope she stuffed the letter in. "Is that Aaron's full name?"

"Yeah. Why?"

He just smiled and ran over where Julia stood with the phone wedged between her hand and ear. He read out the name on the blank white paper and her eyes widened in surprise. Amidst the sudden chatter that picked up, Sunny watched them in wonder and Baek moaned about his long-forgotten glasses.

"Now where did I put them? Sunny, what in the world has possessed your parents at a time like this?"

"They must think Aaron's name is weird."

'P.S. I really like your name. Aaron Fox, I think it sounds nice.'

"I know, the world is getting smaller than we think! Hold on a sec, Hwoarang wants to talk to you."

"... Hey, Steve. It's nice to hear from you. And tell Aaron I have a friend waiting for him. Right here."

In the next few minutes, it seemed that the smiles were as contagious as ever.