HER SANCTUARY

VII- I LIKE HER

Subin knelt before her grandfather, her head bowed, as he scolded her.

"Just look at you. The way you've changed, is it because of those kids?" her grandfather reproached.

"No, Grandpa, it has nothing to do with them," Subin tried to defend herself.

"Stop hanging out with them and don't meet them again," he demanded firmly.

"But Grandpa!" Subin protested.

"Enough! You are different from those kids, Subin. You will one day lead the Union. You can't waste your time on them, and you can't live a normal life like they do." he continued.

"But..." Subin attempted to argue.

"Are you trying to follow in your parents' footsteps?" Her grandfather's words sent a chill down her spine, reminding her of her parents' fate.

He was right. She couldn't afford to live the way her friends did. Her responsibilities and future were different.

"I take it that you understand." her grandfather asserted.

Subin remained silent as her grandfather's words were final - this newfound friendship, however wonderful, must now fade. With a heavy heart, she accepted reality; her duties and safety came first, meaning leaving behind the carefree days with her friends.

Lying in bed, his stern warning replayed her mind like a broken record. Intertwined were fond memories of Wooin, Jiwoo, and even Jisuk – their warmth reminding her of less complicated times with her parents. She had lowered her guard, almost her true self again, trusting them despite the risks. Yet with Jisuk, it was more complicated; she still didn't fully trust him but appreciated his lack of pretence.

Though it still hurt deeply, she couldn't resent her grandfather for protecting her. He had reminded her of her parents' painful betrayal by those considered dear friends. People present all her life, considered family, had ultimately killed her parents. Her desire to keep these new friends warred with old wounds and anger. Overwhelmed by grief over lost connections, tears flowed as she mourned both old and new.

FLASHBACK

In a dimly lit cave, a young Subin and her mother sought refuge from their relentless pursuers. The atmosphere was tense as they huddled together, their hearts racing with fear and uncertainty.

"The amplifier should surround your primary power, not vice versa," her mother gently advised.

"But it's easier for me to do that because I can't control the amplifier..." Subin responded frustratingly.

Her mother paused, contemplating. The amplifier was already complicated for adults to master. She understood Subin's frustration, having been forced to hastily learn it out of urgent necessity. Perhaps because they were only taught one method, she had never considered her daughter's different technique. Subin's approach resembled a trapped bouncing ball, working only when her secondary force control collided with primary force control, making it more difficult and unpredictable since it wasn't fully learned yet.

"You have to bond it with your core. That way, even with little power left, you can still magnify it," her mother explained.

Subin's voice trembled with vulnerability. "Mama, is Papa dead already? He said he will follow us soon but hasn't come yet."

Her mother felt a pang in her heart. She knew in her soul that her husband was likely gone forever. But gazing at her daughter's innocent, frightened eyes, she couldn't bear to steal whatever fragile hope still flickered inside. Swallowing back tears, she forced an assuring smile.