Jeong Tae-ui muttered, tapping the nearly burnt-out cigarette on the rock beside the silent, thoughtful Shin Lu.
"Right. You can’t just peel the sky off and hang it in your room, nor dye it with opium."

Shin Lu burst out laughing, mumbling with the cigarette in her mouth, "I’ve always been the type who has to have whatever I want, ever since I was a kid."

Jeong Tae-ui said nothing.
He never said things like “People and skies are the same; they can’t be possessions.” Skies are divided by countries claiming their airspace, so people are no different. While human rights activists shout above the sky, down on the ground people are sold like livestock—by their own will or someone else’s.

Even Jeong Tae-ui himself was not confident. If Shin Lu really poured opium into him for days, addicting him, he couldn’t be sure he would freely break free. The same applied to anything, not just drugs.

Someone once said it’s worthless unless you have control over a person’s mind and spirit. Yet many are not like that.

But—

Jeong Tae-ui liked Shin Lu. She was still a lovable child. So, for Shin Lu’s sake, he hoped she wouldn’t do such a thing. Even if Shin Lu herself was satisfied with that kind of happiness, Jeong Tae-ui wished for her to taste another kind.