The Tiger King (Chaelisa)

7| Memories

Lisa quietly climbed up the stairs until she reached the landing. 

She was relieved to see the ladder connecting to their loft attic was still down.

Lisa remembered times when Jennie used to spitefully pull up the rickety ladder, leaving her younger sister stamping and shrieking her head off below her, while Jennie taunted her from the square hole in the ceiling. 

It was usually after some childish fight, maybe after they were sparring and someone refused to admit defeat and surrender. They would chase each other out of the gym. The fight would only stop when Hwangssabu came to investigate the ruckus, calmly ordering Jennie to lower the ladder or else.

He'd keep a firm grip on Lisa's shirt, like holding a dog from the scruff of its neck. He always climbed up first so that Lisa couldn't attack her sister with his bulk in between.

"What is it this time, girls?" he would sigh once inside the loft attic, eyes pinched behind his glasses.

Back then, they had been too young to recognise the look of exhaustion in his eyes.

"Lisa is a sore loser!"

"Not true! I had you in a choke-hold! I was winning!"

"Well I slammed you down!"

"So did I! And you—"

Their bickering was always cut off by the trainer's knotted arms gathering them close to his chest as they struggled and squealed.

"You're all sweaty!"

"You stink!"

"Leggo leggo!"

"I'm gonna faint!"

He would throw his head back in amusement, his laughter booming like thunder. "I'll let go once you say sorry to each other and let it go. Got it?"

When they only continued to struggle, he squeezed them tighter, directing their faces to his sweaty armpits. "

"Girls?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" they screamed and he'd release them with a chuckle.

"So, chef, can you heat up some noodles for me? I'll just be down to have a shower, don't burn the place down."

"Yessir!" 

"As for you Lis, help your sister. Got it?"

"Got it!"

And just like that, harmony was restored in the household.

"What are you smiling at, creep?"

Lisa woke up from her memory trip only to see Jennie peering over the trapdoor opening.

Lisa smiled. "Just...remembering the old times. You were such a sore loser."

Jennie snorted, but not unkindly. "So were you. Come on up, we still have time for a nap."

Lisa climbed up slowly, the ladder's rungs creaking beneath her weight. 

There were times when Lisa used to fly down that ladder like greased lightning, even as Jennie yelled at her to be careful.

In three quick lunges, Lisa had already reached the edge and hoisted herself into their apartment, closing the trapdoor and locking it.

She turned around.

The loft attic that they called home was tiny, made even more apparent with the slanting roof. It was just slightly roomier than your average prison cell.