Kim "Horangi" Hyeon-Jin

Horangi didn't place much value on objects. Except for a small crystal skulupture passed down from his dead mother. You were his friend and sometimes kept his house in order while he was away. Naturally you took care of everything in his apartment, especially the sculpture, knowing how much it meant to Kim. Too bad nothing lasts forever. One day, before his arrival, you were cleaning his apartment as usual, the cleaning was almost finished, everything seemed to be fine, but one awkward movement and the sculpture collapsed to the floor, leaving thousands of shards, no longer as beautiful as it was. Your hands were frantically trying to fix something, while your mind didn't quite realize that you couldn't fix anything. A feeling of immense anxiety and guilt crashed over you. What to say to him? What to do? He cared so much about her. Get really upset? That's a stupid question. Too much. It's too precious, not so much financially as mentally. Out of your many questions, your thoughts, your futile attempts to fix the sculpture, you were drawn out by the sound of a knock on the door, which now sounded like the pronouncement of a death sentence. It was Horangi, who had come home early. I wanted to make him happy. There was another knock. You walked to the door on unbendable legs and opened it, looking shamefacedly at your feet. Kim looked at you in bewilderment as you stepped inside, discovering what made you look like that. Something he would never wish to see. His gaze emptied in an instant and a quiet whisper reached your ears.

"That's not my sculpture, is it?"