Yoojun learned that flowers were hard to grow.
And an audience for a bakery in a heart problem facing crowd was harder.
Naoko told him that his first task was to bring more people into the bakery.
And Yoojun told her she should repair the place.
She told him the people there were blind anyway.
So he shrugged and sat down on one of the chairs and wrote on a piece of paper. He wrote in big capital letters—People hunting.
He went for a short way and now felt like it was a serial killer's list.
But it wasn't and he proceeded.
The first word was yet to be written.
"What if we feed the old guys enough to make them resistant to sweetness?" Yoojun was about to write down the idea.
"Yes, you might as well actually be trying to make a list to kill them." Naoko snorted.
Yoojun glared at her.
"I'm trying to help you." He mumbled to himself. Loud enough for anyone to hear.
"So?" She was giggling.
Yoojun wanted to throw the paper at her. He could never understand how teenagers were always so mean.
He continued on writing…absolutely nothing since he never could come up with something.
He stayed till it was evening. At that point both Naoko and Yoojun were sipping on a lemon drink that Miss Shizuka had prepared.
Naoko baked the sweets but did not know how to cook. So the florist, being the sweet human she was, cooked food for Naoko.
And Yoojun too. Since he started helping out at the bakery.
It had been two days since he started. And Miss Shizuka had not given any opportunity to chide Yoojun for not finishing her task.
"You must love hoarding all jobs." Miss Shizuka's eyes twitched.
He had replied, " Not really? I just got bored."
She sighed and rambled away as she cooked.
Yoojun believed it was Naoko's fault.
He glared at her and started shaking his head.
Naoko just stood there, realising some philosophical questions about human stupidity.
And then they had dinner.
Then this repeated for a few days.
Naoko ate the sweets she made. Yoojun wrote ideas like 'throwing sweets at the others' like it made sense.
And the old woman whispered curses from the ancient realm.
Then one day, an absolutely simple day, Naoko fell sick.
Finishing more food than her stomach could handle could never really be good. But since when did fourteen year old teens with a rebellious spirit care.
And as she groaned in her sleep, Yoojun woke up from his. He was sleeping on one of the chairs, planning more ideas.
Shizuka had not come to make food since she was a little busy.
Naoko too had fallen asleep on the chairs.
Yoojun stood up. He shook Naoko twice.
Tears poured out of her eyes. He softly patted her back.
"Mama." She mumbled, and while Yoojun could not hear, he hugged her.
Then let her go.
Shizuka had told him about the new doctor who had joined the village.
It was midnight.
She had given him his address.
He ran and ran and knocked on a little house. Old and abandoned.
The door opened, "What the fuck do you want?"
"Sick. Naoko is sick." Yoojun mumbled. Over and over again.
"What?" The man wiped his glasses on his shirt and wore them.
"Help me—I don't want her to die," Yoojun said in a low and quiet voice. "Please."
The man stared at Yoojun for a moment and nodded.
Yoojun grabbed the man and ran to the bakery.
By the time they reached the place, the doctor was huffing.
They both went inside and Naoko lay her head on the table that was covered with vomit.