Do Rae was having the time of her life.

Smashing bricks with her fists? ✅
Tossing sandbags across the yard like dodgeballs? ✅
Trying to see if she could lift a scooter with one hand? Also ✅ (and very satisfying).

But Do Rin?

She wasn’t smiling.

She was watching.

Watching their mom pace the backyard in yoga pants and battle-scarred sneakers, barking commands like a boot camp sergeant. Watching Rae fly through strength drills like it was a competition. And watching something in the back of Bong Soon’s eyes that didn’t match the energy.

It was fear.

Just a flicker—but it was there.

“You’re not focusing!” Bong Soon snapped, hands on hips.

“I am focusing,” Rin muttered.

“Then why does that punching bag still look like it has feelings?”

Rin exhaled, stepped forward, and punched.

The bag didn’t just move. It detonated.

Rae whooped. “That’s my girl! Finally channeling your inner rage!”

Bong Soon raised an eyebrow. “Okay. You’ve got it. Time to talk about what happens next.”

The girls sat on the porch, sipping barley tea and catching their breath.

“There are rules,” Bong Soon said, suddenly serious.

“Of course there are,” Rae muttered. “Can’t have fun without conditions.”

“Rule One: Never use your strength in front of cameras or crowds. If you go viral, you're done.”
“Rule Two: Don’t fight unless you’re protecting someone. Power without purpose turns toxic.”
“Rule Three: If you ever meet another strong woman, you don’t fight her. Ever.”

Rae leaned back. “Why not?”

“Because we don’t fight each other,” Bong Soon said. “We’re rare. And when we clash, bad things happen.”

Do Rin glanced at her mother. “Has it ever happened before?”

Bong Soon paused.

Just long enough for Rin to catch it.

Then she smiled like she didn’t want to answer.

“Only once. And we don’t talk about her.”

Rin filed that away.

Because her mom’s eyes didn’t flicker with fear that time.

They flickered with guilt.

That night, Rin stayed up late scrolling archived news articles. Hidden threads. Deep net forums.

Nothing on strong women. Nothing on a public incident. No record.

But then, buried in a forgotten blog from 1998, she found a headline:

“Local Woman Accused of Destroying Market Street in ‘Unexplained Outburst’ — Later Declared Mentally Unstable.”

No pictures.

Just a name:
Do Mi Na.

Rin frowned.

She clicked the name.

And froze.

Because Do Mi Na looked a lot like Bong Soon.

Too much like her.