ilha forMANsa

She can’t help but giggle at his half-hearted struggles, but with a final swipe of the napkin, she pulls away.

“There you are. Now you look like a perfectly respectable Nation!” she says… but then immediately goes to ruffle his hair. He’s just too sweet, she can’t resist. Something about his bubbly attitude that just ignites all of her affectionate instincts.

Of course his own music would always be first, but she’s always loved having others around with her when she goes to concerts. They’re just not as much fun when she goes alone.

“Who would I be if I haven’t listened to Aaron Yan? I’m hurt you have so little faith in me.”

She sees the headphone splitter come out, and she flashes him a grin as she starts digging through her purse for her own headphones.

“But I’m always willing to listen to more, for your sake,” she says and pokes his cheek.

“Perfectly respectable nation? I doubt it, but... if you think so!” The words sting, just a little. Cleaning off a few food spills wouldn’t get him the recognition he wanted. If it was that easy, he would have shoveled down an entire buffet and showed up to the United Nations immediately after. If only.

Nevertheless, he chuckles. “Are you gonna write a song about your heartbreak?” He laughs at the thought — he has no doubt in his mind that if she did, it would be a tune that would go platinum in a week.

It was a lucky stroke that Thao’s existence was not a precarious as Yumin’s. Well, precarious still but not as badly as his friend’s, and Thao had confidence that his life would yet continue. He was not a fighter by nature, but in time he’d been conditioned to fight for his survival, clinging to every inch of life he was given. As such, he would continue to fight until the bitter end, and he was confident of his ability to survive against all odds.

He was currently leaning against a cutoff wall that ended perfectly at his waist, and eating plain white rice bite-by-bite from a nondescript bowl. He typically ate more seasoned food, true, but white rice was a comfort food for him, something to fill his stomach when he was hungry and always satisfied him the most. He was watching the people go by, alone yet surrounded, just how he liked it. At least until Yumin managed to break his scooter right in front of him.

A sigh rolls off of him and he rolls his head back in exasperation. Just like that, his solitude was dashed to tiny pieces.

“I can see that,” he said, ignoring the use of Chinese. He wasn’t fond of the language, or the nation itself, at all really. They had too much bad blood for that. But this little nuisance, Thao would make an exception for.

“What did you do, put sand in the engine?”

Yùmín had the spirit of a fighter. Just maybe not the might. It was just that tenacity, that hope, that kept him going. The visage of the man before him, while not maybe the best of sights in these heavily political times... was still most welcome. They had a common frenemy, so to speak.

“Sand? Why would I do that?” Yùmín notices the displeasure on Thao’s face. He gives a small huff, forgetting to save face around a familiar friend. “Unless there was water in it, or something... but even then! That’s a risk I’m not willing to take! My poor scooter...”

The agony of his most faithful steed in front of him, barely sputtering... he wondered what it could be suffering from. He had cleaned it, filled it with gas... a long sigh escaped him.

Upon seeing his messy face, Sang Hee grabs another napkin and assists in cleaning off the spots he missed.

“Why are you such a mess? You’ll ruin your nice clothes,” she says and continues to brush crumbs off of him.

“I came to bring you… stuff.”

She pulls a parcel from her expansive purse that consists of several albums bound together with red ribbon. The bands are all established groups that are ‘tried and true’ in her mind, hoping to convert him to her pop music as well.

“In case you needed happy stuff to listen to. Though there’s some sad ballads in there as well.”

“Stop, stop!” he immediately starts to brush her away (since that napkin kind of tickles!) but finds himself unsuccessful. He resigns himself to his fate. Sure enough, he could count on one of his sisters to come to him in any time of need.

“Oh? Music? 姐姐，this is great!” Yùmín can recognize a few of the groups on her album, but is actually quite surprised to see a new one here and there. His beloved Taiwanese pop would always be his #1, but K-POP was good too. And yes, he had a bias, but he wasn’t saying who.

For someone who was so used to the world’s strife, in all its unpleasantness, finding ways to cope was easy. Happiness spurred from his search of it, not because it occurred to him naturally. The man had seen and done much, and yet it wasn’t enough. Could one blame him? At any moment, he may cease to be. Breaths were gifts, though he firmly believed that they were rights.

But for today those thoughts were pushed anxiously to the back of his mind. Channelling anger into something was a lot easier than trying to manage it. So he takes to his famous and most favorite hobby: scooting all his problems away!

... Or so he thought!

Yùmín finds something is terribly wrong and has to pull over. Usually something like this wouldn’t disturb him so, but if someone lends an ear to him... well, he can get pretty whiny. One look at the man across from him and he’s almost near tears. Please help him.

“姐姐，you were going to make the long trip here without telling me?! You should’ve said something!”

【 He wipes off his face with a napkin, looking embarrassed — he loved surprises like this, except for the being caught off guard part! 】

It's pronounced Kiong-hí hoat-châi.