essie

Holding her for the first time.

The first time Riki held his daughter, it was exactly 8 p.m. The doctors had just finished running their tests and assured them she was perfectly healthy. The room still smelled faintly of antiseptic, and the soft hum of hospital machines filled the quiet. Riki had washed his hands three times already, his nerves refusing to settle. He sat carefully on the very edge of the hospital bed while you ate beside him, trying to regain some strength.

When the nurse finally placed the tiny baby in his arms, everything else faded. He just stared at her. She was so small, her face slightly red, her fingers curling instinctively around nothing. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes filled with tears he didn’t even try to hide. “My little bean…” he whispered, his voice trembling as he held her closer, afraid and amazed all at once.

She smiled at me first!

The first time she smiled, she was two months old. Riki had her resting against his chest during a small gathering with friends, absentmindedly talking while gently patting her back. She blinked up at him, her tiny eyes focusing, and then it happened. A small, unmistakable smile.

Riki froze. Then he gasped. “She smiled at me!” he exclaimed, his voice loud enough to startle everyone in the room.

For days after, he wouldn’t stop talking about it. Every time he looked at her, he’d pout playfully and repeat, “You smiled at me first, you know that?”

First word

Her first word came unexpectedly. Baby Kiyoe was sitting between the two of you, playing with a doll while Riki tried to comb its tangled hair with exaggerated seriousness. She watched him quietly, studying his every move.

Then she reached out and said, “Papa.”

Both of you froze.

Riki’s eyes widened as he turned to you so fast it almost gave him whiplash. “Did she just—”

“Yes! Oh my god, she did!” you rushed, scrambling for your phone, nearly dropping it in your excitement.

“Kiyoe, say it again,” he asked softly, his voice filled with hope.

She looked right at him, as if understanding exactly what he wanted. “Papa.”

That was it. The two of you broke into laughter and tears at the same time, holding her close as if the moment might slip away.

LOOK! She’s walking!!!!

Her first steps came when Riki wasn’t home.

He had just finished a concert, exhaustion weighing heavily on his body. After a quick shower, he collapsed dramatically onto Jake, mumbling incoherently. His phone rang. He almost ignored it, but something told him not to.

“Hi, babe,” he answered tiredly.

“Look!” you said immediately, flipping the camera.

On the screen, Kiyoe stood by the coffee table, her tiny hands gripping the edge. She looked so small, yet so determined. You encouraged her gently, your voice full of excitement.

“Come here, darling. Papa’s on the phone.”

She giggled. Then, slowly, she let go. One step. Then another. Then a third.

And then she fell.

Her cry echoed through the phone, but Riki didn’t move. He just sat there, tears streaming down his face, smiling through them. Jake and Jungwon watched quietly beside him, their expressions soft as they saw him break down over the moment he had missed to see in person.

First birthday

By the time Kiyoe turned one, Riki was determined to make it unforgettable. The house was decorated in pink and yellow, a full princess theme. He had invited everyone. There were balloons, ribbons, and a cake far too big for such a small child.

Riki himself wore a prince costume, insisting on committing fully to the theme. Kiyoe wore a tiny princess dress, a delicate tiara resting on her head, with a touch of glitter on her cheeks and the tip of her nose.

He kept staring at her the entire time, barely holding himself together.

“She’s growing too fast,” he muttered, halfway through his third slice of cake, trying to distract himself from the overwhelming feeling in his chest.

‘I wanna dance appa!’

At three, she was already following him everywhere. One evening, she sat on the floor of the practice room, watching him and his members rehearse. Her eyes were wide with admiration.

When they finally took a break, she ran straight to him. “Appa, dance good!” she said proudly.

He laughed, scooping her into his arms and collapsing onto the couch with her. “Yeah?” he asked, drinking water between breaths.

She patted his chest. “Appa, I want to dance too.”

He looked at her for a moment, his expression softening completely. “I’ll teach you, Kyo.”

And he did. The rest of the day was spent with laughter, tiny steps, and her trying to copy every move he made.

Playschool…..

Her first day of school was harder for Riki than it was for her.

“What if she doesn’t like it? What if she misses us? What if she can’t make friends?” he kept asking, pacing back and forth.

You sighed, shaking your head. “Riki, she’ll be fine.”

Kiyoe waved cheerfully as her teacher led her inside. Meanwhile, Riki stood there, already tearing up, turning his face away.

“I can’t watch her go,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Falling is a part of learning

At six, he taught her how to ride a bicycle.

The sun was warm, the garden quiet except for her small giggles and occasional complaints. He held the back of the bike, running alongside her.

When she fell, she burst into tears. “I don’t want to learn anymore!”

He knelt beside her, brushing the dirt off her knees. “Kyo, falling is part of learning,” he said gently, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

With his encouragement, she tried again. And again.

Until finally, she did it.

Teenage years are scary

The teenage years came faster than he was ready for.

He had always feared this stage, hearing stories about daughters drifting away from their parents. Still, he tried to prepare himself.

But nothing prepared him for the day she called him, her voice trembling.

“Appa… can you come home?”

He didn’t hesitate. He left immediately.

When he arrived, he found her sitting on the bathroom floor, crying. He understood instantly. Without panic, he helped her, guiding her gently, telling her to take a shower while he got everything she needed.

When she came out, she found Nutella crepes waiting, along with chocolates and a movie already playing.

They sat together, wrapped in a blanket. He didn’t say much, just stayed close.

When you returned home later, you found him holding her while she slept.

“She’s growing up too fast,” he whispered, his voice breaking once more.

First date

At seventeen, her first date. She mentioned it so casually over dinner that Riki almost didn’t register it at first. Then it hit him. He went completely still for a second, chopsticks paused mid-air, before slowly setting them down. “Oh,” he said flatly. Then, as if something snapped, he stood up and started pacing the room. “I will kill that boy if he tries anything,” he muttered under his breath, half serious, half already imagining scenarios.

She just sighed like she was used to this behavior, but he couldn’t calm down. Even after she left, he kept checking his phone every few minutes, staring at the screen like it would somehow tell him everything was fine.

University…. But she’s leaving so soon :(

At eighteen, she left for university. The house felt louder than usual that day. People were coming in and out, helping carry bags, laughing, talking about how exciting it all was. But Riki barely heard any of it.

He kept hovering near her, fixing things she had already packed, reopening bags just to “check one last thing,” standing in her doorway longer than necessary. Every time he looked at her room, it felt like something was slowly disappearing.

When they finally reached Busan, it was worse. Her new room was empty in a way that made his chest feel tight. He helped her unpack slowly, almost carefully, like if he rushed it would mean she was really gone already.

When it was time to leave, he hugged her tightly. Too tightly. Neither of them spoke for a long moment. He just kept his arms around her like letting go would make it real. And when he finally did, he looked away quickly so she wouldn’t see his face.

Appa i’m 22 stop calling me little bean!!!

At twenty two, her graduation. She stood in her gown, smiling brightly, surrounded by people cheering for her. Riki watched her from a few steps away like he was trying to memorize the moment.

When she walked toward him, he didn’t even wait for her to say anything before pulling her into a hug. “I’m so proud of you, little bean,” he said, voice slightly unsteady.

She laughed softly, adjusting her cap. “Appa, I’m literally twenty two.” He pulled back just enough to look at her properly. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll always be my little bean.”

And even then, he didn’t fully let go right away.

Walking her down the aisle

At twenty six, her wedding day. She stood in front of him in her wedding dress, hands slightly trembling, eyes already glossy. Riki looked at her like he was seeing every version of her at once—baby, child, teenager, now this.

“Appa,” she said softly, stepping closer. “No matter what, I’ll always be your little bean.”

That was it for him. He smiled through the tears immediately forming, blinking fast like it would help. “I know,” he said quietly, voice breaking just a little. “I know.”

He gently took her hand, steadying himself more than her, and walked her down the aisle. Every step felt heavier than the last, but he never slowed down.

My little bean has a baby now!

Years later, when she became a mother. The hospital room was quiet, soft with relief and tired smiles. Riki stood in the doorway for a few seconds before stepping in fully, like he needed to prepare himself for what he was seeing.

There she was—holding her newborn, exhausted but glowing in a way he couldn’t describe.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just walked over and pulled her into a hug, careful not to hurt her, but holding on like he still needed to ground himself.

She was safe. She was healthy. She was holding her own child now.

And Riki just stood there for a moment longer than usual, his hand resting gently on her back, realizing how quickly everything had changed… and how she was still, somehow, his little bean.

“Mm?” He hummed in response when you groaned out your little nickname for him, his eyes never leaving the switch in his hands as he lay sprawled across your bed. 

All you could do in that moment was let out a sigh as you went slack against the backrest of your desk chair, your head hanging from its edge while you stared at the ceiling.

“I thought I’d love it, I truly did. It's a mystery, has secret societies, a commentary on classism and misogyny; everything I love in a book,” you said as you picked up the one on your desk and looked at it with contempt, “so why can’t I get through this one? It’s barely 500 pages.” 

Riki paused his game to walk over and sit on the ottoman you keep by your desk. You handed over the book for him to check out, and he mumbled as he read the title on the cover.

“Can’t you just do your assignment on ‘Babel’? It’s the same genre, has a secret society, explores the same problems, and it’s dark academia like this one, no?” He handed the book back to you after he finished reading the synopsis.

You blinked at him.

“You’ve read… ‘Babel’? As in… 1830s Oxford, the power of translation, daddy-issues-Robin ‘Babel’?”

There was a hint of confusion and amusement behind your surprised look, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You never took Riki to be a book-worm in the nine years you’ve been friends, never once saw him pick up a book if it wasn’t for school.

At this point, you were less upset with your professor’s poor literary choice for your first assignment of the term, and more so delighted by the fact that your best friend had read what is probably your all-time-favorite book by your all-time-favorite author.

Unprompted.

Riki huffed out a little laugh as he got up and plopped back onto your bed, not before annoying you with a hair ruffle though.

“Yeah well it’s the only book you’ve been carrying around since last year. You’ve even filled it up with tabs and annotations” He resumed his game as he continued to talk.

“If it was good enough for you to keep around that long after finishing it, I figured I’d give it a shot.”

You didn’t know how to respond.

A comforting silence blanketed the both of you like it usually did when you guys would hang out, the sound of his game being the only thing filling in the space between the two of you.

All you did was stare at the switch-occupied boy on your bed, thinking his answer would make sense if you did.

You stared, and you stared, and you stared,

but to no avail.

You sat up properly and turned back to face your desk, opening the book to the page you left your bookmark on, and started to read like you weren’t just complaining about it a minute ago.

“Copycat…” You murmured to yourself, your reddened cheek pressed against the palm of your hand, elbow settled down on your desk.

Riki explained himself like that was the most normal course of action ever… and you know what? Maybe it is.

For him at least.

It’s then that you realize that you really shouldn’t be surprised at this point, not when it’s happened so many times before.

It is how he earned his nickname after all.

The birth of “Copycat” happened about two years into your friendship, some time in between grades 9 and 10, with your 9th grade second semester English finals being the catalyst of it all.

You were working on your paper during lunch break, stationed in front of one of the library computers as you scribbled down notes and did your research.

“I didn’t realize watching cartoons was considered data gathering.”

You pulled out your earphones and paused the show that was playing on the monitor. The sight of Riki and his teasing smile greeted you when you turned around in your seat.

“We’re tasked to do a literary analysis, Riks,” you gestured towards the computer screen while hitting him with a deadpan look, “and this cartoon is literature.”

Your retort didn’t wipe the playful grin off his face, instead it only served to widen it. Riki sat himself in front of the computer next to yours, setting his bag down on the floor as he switched on the CPU.

“What’re you in the library for?” You asked as you put your earphones back in.

“‘M also doing my English paper.”

“On?”

“‘Weathering With You’.”

“And yet you have the audacity to come at me for watching a cartoon for my finals,” you quipped and shook your head disapprovingly, earning a soft chuckle from him. “Tsk tsk tsk.”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just call ‘Weathering With You’ a cartoon for the sake of our friendship,” Riki feigned offense, to which you fondly rolled your eyes.

“What’s…” He leaned towards your screen for a second to get a better look, “What’s ‘Voltron’ about anyway?”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, opened a whole can of worms.

You went on a tangent about how you have a love-hate relationship with the show, about how poorly the writers treated the plot and the individual arcs of two characters, and about how the main romance was bullshitted and didn’t even make sense—a tangent that lasted 10 minutes at the very least.

You were hit with a belated sense of embarrassment by the end of your little spiel, realizing that you just kept rambling on about the what-should-have-beens of a space lion cartoon.

You were about to either apologize or thank Riki for sitting through all of that, but he did you one better by asking;

“Is it cool if I watch with you?”

You were slightly taken aback; you weren’t expecting him to ask if he could watch your silly little show with him.

That’s how you two ended up spending the rest of that day’s lunch period in the library, sharing your earphones as the rest of Voltron’s season 3 played on the computer screen, Riki’s own research for his finals be damned.

Now, how exactly did this little library watch party serve as the catalyst for “Copycat”?

Well a week later, he came up to you saying that he watched the rest of the show. You didn’t think much of it besides being happy that Riki picked up one of your interests, now getting to geek out about the show with him; but then you noticed he started doing that with every other interest you’d mention from then on out.

You found out on a random Tuesday that Riki started liking a band that you absolutely love but only mentioned in passing; you were hanging out in your house, in the middle of Just Dance, when Riki brought up getting into that one movie series you talked about the week prior; and you were walking side by side one afternoon, Bisco in between both of you, when Riki told you that he picked up a hobby of yours.

“Copycat,” you muttered for the first time, right after he told you he tried that egg tart you really like from the bakery near your high school.

It was summer break. The both of you had just gone for a couple of rides around your neighborhood on your bikes, and now you guys were sitting curbside, cooling off with popsicles.

“What? You don’t like that I like what you like?” Riki asked as he took a bite out of his tangy ice lolly, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“No no, I never said that; I’m happy you’ve been refining your taste,” you quipped back with a smirk as you licked your own treat, “but that doesn’t make you any less of a copycat.”

The humming of cicadas filled the silence between the two of you, and for a while you simply appreciated the way the trees swayed and the way speckled sunlight hit the pavement you were sitting on. 

You didn’t think about how the both of you would still carry that silly off-handed nickname years later, well into your sophomore year of uni.

You never stopped to wonder why.

Why Riki kept copying you, to be specific.

It’s not like you minded, far from that actually—though you’d never admit to that and give up the fondly annoyed front you put up with him.

You were simply curious.

And so were Jake and Sunoo, apparently.

“No, because you’d have to strap Riki to a chair if you want him to actually watch something.” Sunoo explained, exasperation laced in his voice.

“That isn’t an exaggeration, by the way,” Jake chimed in, “we had to hold him down just so he’d watch ‘Love, Rosie’ with us.”

“You’re serious?” You laughed at the thought of Riki being held down exorcist-style just for a movie.

The three of you had been doing uni work in a cafe for about two hours at that point, hunched over your laptops and lecture notes while sipping on watered down iced coffee. Your much needed study break came in the form of Riki slander.

“I honestly don’t know how you do it.” Sunoo sighed as he closed his laptop.

“Hmm?” You hummed in response, not quite sure what he was referring to.

“You know, getting Riki to do the things you like with you.”

“Yeah whenever he gets into something new or recommends something to us, we ask him how he found out about it and he’d say ‘She likes it, so I thought I’d give it a shot too.” Jake added.

“Oh-”

You didn’t really know how to answer that, because you never had to ask Riki in the first place.

“Well if I’m being completely honest, I don’t. He just…” You vaguely gestured to nothing, “does it himself lol.”

The apples of your cheeks went pink and you tried to play it off coolly by pretending to write notes down, but it was too late because Sunoo already had a knowing smile on his face.

Jake was about to ask Sunoo why he was grinning from ear-to-ear when Riki arrived, immediately sitting next to you and greeting you with a pinch on your cheek. You pretended to swat it away but made no real effort to get him off you.

“Copycat,” You greeted with a blank tone, acknowledging his arrival without having to look at him, not with your face all red.

“Hello, Shortie.” Riki greeted back with a fond smile before he turned to face the two other boys at the table, “My dear hyungs.”

Jake went in for a dap, and Sunoo just rolled his eyes.

“Why’re you late? We’ve been here for two hours already.” Sunoo scolded, though there wasn’t any real bite to his words.

“Sorry, should’ve texted you guys; Sola needed help with homework, and my older sister needed a ride to her part-time.” Riki explained as he set down a box in the middle of the table.

“I also took a detour and bought snacks for you guys.” He added as he opened the lid. You looked at the box and sure enough, it was from that bakery you mentioned to him all those years ago. The sight of the egg tarts’ golden caps and the smell of their buttery crust felt like a hug from a dear old memory.

Jake immediately grabbed a tart, and Sunoo did a little happy dance before thanking Riki (he even threw in a “you should be late all the time if you’re gonna buy us snacks like this~”)

“Oh my God these are amazing.” Sunoo groaned as soon as he took a bite, face crumpling in what looked like anger from how good the tart was.

“Where did you buy these?” Jake asked, equally as impressed by the little pastry in his hands.

“A bake shop near our old high school,” Riki answered simply.

He pulled out a tart from the box and handed it over to you, a soft smile on his lips as he glanced your way. “These tarts are her favorite, and the bakery was en route to here so…”

Riki didn’t finish his sentence, instead opting to dig into an egg tart himself as he opened up his notes and started to work.

You were too surprised by his last statement that you forgot to take a bite out of the treat in your hands.

It tasted a lot sweeter and felt a lot warmer since you’ve last eaten it. And no, it’s not because the bakery switched up their recipe.

You started to understand why; why Riki kept copying you, for that matter.

And it only took one last push in the right direction for you to fully come to your senses.

“You’re not getting anything?” Riki asked. He followed closely behind you as you browsed the shelves of the music shop you guys were in.

“Not today at least,” You answered, eyes still focused on the jewel cases in front of you, “I just wanted to check the place out to see if they’ve got any of the albums I’m looking for.”

“I saw Big Thief and The Marias back there.” Riki mentioned.

“Yeah, I did too.” You smiled.

“They’re definitely on my list; I just need a little more time to save up so I can buy a few of the CDs I want in one go.” You explained as you placed back a Sade album on the shelf. “I kinda want to have more than one album on hand with me; more variety, y’know?”

The both of you left the music shop empty-handed that day.

On a bus ride home from uni about two weeks later, Riki asks you if you’ve saved up enough to buy the albums you want.

“Not yet, almost there though,” You answer simply before sporting a cheeky smirk, “Why? Want to buy them for me instead?”

“Please, if I had that kind of money, it’d go straight to my Steam wishlist.” Riki mused.

“Ahhh yeah, Hades 2…” You sucked in a breath.

“Exactly.”

There’s a momentary silence between you two, filled up by the humming of the AC unit and the thrumming of the engine.

“Why’d you ask anyway?” You asked, looking out the window.

“Hmm? Oh- uhhh…” Riki stammered for a bit as he rummaged through his bag. He pulled out a CD before handing it over to you.

You looked at the jewel case in Riki’s hand and then at him.

“What’s this?” You asked as you slowly took it from him and scanned the front cover. 

It read, “Love, Copycat,” with a drawing of you below it.

Before he could even answer, you realised what it was.

“I uh… made you a playlist,” Riki said in a hushed and bashful tone, a contrast to his usual confident and playful demeanor. “I thought I’d make you one while you saved up for the albums you want. You seemed pretty excited about using that CD player.”

You felt a pang in your heart when you looked up to see the sincerity in Riki’s eyes and in his shy smile.

“I added all your favorites—Clairo, The Japanese House, Adrienne Lenker.” He tapped the case in your hands, and his timid grin made way for a little pride to shine through, “I even drew a little portrait of you for the cover.”

You couldn’t stop looking at Riki. You were consumed by the thought of him going through the effort of buying the blank CD and jewel case, curating the playlist, downloading the songs, burning them into the disc, and making a custom cover—a hand-drawn portrait of you.

And then it hit you, all in one go.

Oh.

I’m stupid.

All those shows he watched, those hobbies he tried, those songs he listened to—all those interests he wouldn’t have been within a 10-foot radius of if it wasn’t for you;

He wasn’t copying you.

Riki did all that for you.

To say that he tugged at your heartstrings would be the understatement of the century—he straight up yanked at them. You only realized then that Riki had your heart in the gentlest of  chokeholds, and you wished he’d never let go.

Thwack.

A flick to your forehead.

…Okay maybe you did wish he’d let go, just this once.

You rubbed the spot Riki struck as you stared daggers into him, “WHAT THE HELL MAN?”

“WHAT??? You were zoned out for ages,” Riki laughed, “had to make sure you were still alive.”

You shook your head and scoffed before your eyes landed on the jewel case in your hand, another wave of silence—this time bubbling with tension—washing over the both of you.

You hesitated for a moment, but for once everything was clear to you—how you feel, what you should do.

So you threw all caution to the wind and rested your head on Riki’s shoulder, a quiet “thanks” making its way past your lips.

Though you might’ve not seen it,  Riki bit back a smile in hopes that it would quell the pounding in his chest. Slowly, he reached for your hand and gently intertwined your fingers together.

Riki’s voice was barely above a whisper, it was only for you to hear the smile in his words.

“Took you long enough.”