#kotone fluff

Kotone.

Covered in ramen cups.

Holding one in her hand like it’s a grenade.

She freezes, blinks once, and says, deadpan,

“You saw nothing”

You blink back. “You’re right, I did not see that you just declared war on the ramen shelf.”

“It attacked first.”

“I’m sure it did.”

The cashier sighs audibly, and Kotone winces, crouching down in a panic to pick up the mess — except she keeps grabbing the same three cups and restacking them in the wrong order, making the pile collapse again.

You snort. “You’re actually making it worse.”

“Then help me!” she whisper-yells. “This is serious! People could starve without these!”

“Tragic. National crisis.”

Kotone glares at you, the same way she did back in high school when you stole the last pudding from her lunchbox. You grin and crouch down anyway, helping her restack the fallen ramen cups one by one.

The two of you don’t say anything for a moment — the silence thick with dust, nostalgia, and the faint hum of the store’s dying air conditioner.

Then she mutters, “You still eat this junk?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You still trip over air?”

Her mouth opens. “That’s defamation.”

“You tripped on nothing, Kotone.”

She points dramatically at the floor. “You don’t know that. There could’ve been a— a ghost!”

“Right. The ghost of instant noodles past.”

“Exactly!” she says, deadly serious — and for some reason, that’s the moment you start laughing. Like, really laughing.

Her pout deepens. “You’re laughing at me?”

“Yes.”

“You’re supposed to help!”

“I am! Emotionally!”

Kotone smacks your arm with a ramen cup. “I should’ve known you’d betray me first chance you got.”

“Please. You’d lose a battle to a paper bag.”

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Tripped-on-a-stationary-chair.”

“That chair was aggressively stationary.”

“Mm-hm.”

You both glare at each other, then burst out laughing again — loud, shameless laughter that echoes down the empty aisles. The cashier mutters something about “kids these days” but you both ignore him.

Outside, the air smells like rain and warm asphalt. Kotone walks beside you, swinging the plastic bag of snacks like it’s a pendulum of chaos.

“You know,” she says thoughtfully, “I think the store clerk hates us.”

“I think he’s filing a restraining order.”

“Good. Keeps things interesting.”

You glance at her. “So you’re back?”

“Temporarily.” She shrugs, the movement small and casual, but there’s a glimmer in her eyes — something softer hiding beneath the bravado. “No schedules for awhile, so I figured I’d come home before my company glues me to a practice room.”

“Your group giving you a break? Scandalous.”

Kotone narrows her eyes. “Oh? You do know who we are.”

You pretend to think. “Double… what now?”

Her jaw drops. “You liar. You know our songs.”

“I might’ve heard one. Maybe. Accidentally.”

“Oh my god,” she says dramatically, pressing a hand to her heart. “After all these years, you’ve become one of those guys.”

“What guys?”

“The ones who pretend they don’t know me to seem cool.”

“Relax, superstar. I’m not pretending.”

Kotone gasps. “You’re literally gaslighting an idol right now.”

You roll your eyes. “Pretty sure idols don’t get gaslit in convenience stores.”

“You’d be surprised.”

She kicks a pebble down the street, then adds, “Also, for the record, I’m totally telling my members that my childhood friend betrayed me.”

“They’ll side with me. All 23 of them.”

“Impossible.”

“Highly likely.”

“You underestimate my influence.”

“You underestimate my tolerance for chaos.”

She stops, squints at you, then bursts out laughing again. “God, I forgot how annoying you are.”

You grin. “And yet, you missed me.”

She opens her mouth, ready to argue — but then closes it again. A small smile flickers at the corner of her lips. “Shut up.”

You end up walking her home. Neither of you mention it, but it feels natural, automatic. The streets are still the same: cracked pavement, uneven sidewalks, the distant buzz of cicadas.

“You still live at the same place?” she asks.

“Yeah. You?”

She nods. “Feels smaller now. Or maybe I just got taller.”

“Definitely taller. You used to barely reach my shoulder.”

Kotone immediately steps closer, comparing. “I still don’t.”

“Shame.”

She elbows you. “You’re not that tall.”

“Tall enough to—”

Before you can finish, she reaches up and flicks your forehead. Hard.

“Ow!”

“Height doesn’t protect you from justice,” she declares, proudly.

You stare at her. “You’re insane.”

“Takes one to know one.”

You both break into another round of laughter, the kind that leaves you breathless.

By the time you reach her street, the laughter fades into something quieter. Softer.

Kotone glances at her house, the lights off inside except for the faint glow of her bedroom window.

“I guess this is where I turn,” she says.

“Yeah.”

The silence stretches, not uncomfortable — just full of things you both aren’t saying.

Then she looks back at you, eyes warm but tired in a way you’ve never seen before. “Thanks. For… this.”

You blink. “For bullying you in a convenience store?”

“For… showing up,” she says quietly, and before you can respond, she smiles — that same small, crooked smile she had as a kid. “Goodnight, dummy.”

“Goodnight, klutz.”

She waves lazily over her shoulder as she walks away.

Later that night, Kotone sits cross-legged on her bed, hair still damp from a quick shower, a half-eaten popsicle melting beside her. Her old room feels exactly the same — the faded curtains, the posters on the wall, the faint creak in the floorboards.

Except for that..

It’s sitting on her desk under the soft yellow glow of the lamp — a little worn, the edges curled. The ink slightly faded but still clear.

Instead, she traces a finger over it— and laughs under her breath.

“Still a terrible liar,” she murmurs.

She sets it down gently, switches off the light, and crawls under the blanket.

Outside, the rain starts to fall — steady, quiet, and comforting. The sound she used to fall asleep to when everything still made sense.

And somewhere, half a town away, you’re probably still laughing about the ramen cups.

She smiles in the dark.

“Idiot,” she whispers fondly, a bittersweet smile on her face.

Then, finally, she sleeps.

You fall back into orbit without even realizing it.

One day it’s “Hey, coffee?”

Then it’s “You’re free this afternoon, right?”

Then it’s walks that turn into inside jokes that turn into hours that pass too easily.

It’s like muscle memory — how she always walks a half-step ahead of you but turns back to make sure you’re following, how you always wait an extra second at crosswalks just to annoy her.

Everyone sees it — the way your laughter sounds louder when you’re together, how your voices overlap like you’re trying to win an invisible argument.

But both of you pretend it’s nothing.

Like this is just what best friends do.

It’s late afternoon when you find yourselves at the park, the same one you used to visit after school. The swings are still creaky, the vending machine still refuses to accept slightly crumpled bills. Kotone’s hair glows in the sunlight — brown with a soft reddish tint — and she’s drinking iced coffee through a straw like she’s in a commercial.

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” she asks suddenly, her voice light.

You tilt your head. “What does?”

“Being friends again.”

You grin. “Who said we ever stopped?”

She blinks, and for a split second, something flickers in her expression — like she’s about to say something else. But then she laughs, kicking at a stray pebble. “You’re still as cheesy as ever.”

“And you’re still bossy.”

“Excuse me,” she says, mock offended, “I’m confident.”

“You’re a menace.”

“Confident menace,” she corrects, pointing her straw at you like a weapon.

You roll your eyes. “Sure. That’s what they all say before they trip over nothing.”

She gasps dramatically. “I do not trip over nothing!”

“Uh-huh,” you hum. “Tell that to the ramen aisle.”

“That was one time!”

“Two times.”

“…Okay, maybe two, three if you count the supermarket that time, but still—”

You’re laughing so hard your sides hurt, and she’s smacking your arm like you’ve just committed treason. The old man walking his dog gives you both a strange look, but you don’t care. For the first time in a long time, it feels easy again.

Later, you stop by the convenience store. The same one where you met her again after years apart.

Kotone grabs a can of milk soda and raises it toward you. “Famous people still drink this,” she declares.

“Oh, right. You’re famous now,” you tease. “Should I start bowing when I see you?”

She squints at you. “You’re just jealous.”

“Of what? Your fans?”

“Of my talent,” she says, smirking proudly.

You snort. “TripleS, right?”

Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “You remembered.”

“I think I’ve heard of them.”

“You think?”

You grin. “Can’t say I’ve ever listened to their songs. What’s your name again?”

She gasps and smacks your shoulder with the rolled-up magazine she’s holding. “You liar! You totally know!”

“I don’t even know what a TripleS is.”

“Kami-sama, give me patience,” she mutters, trying not to laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re dramatic.”

“Excuse you,” she says, straightening up. “I’m an idol. Drama is part of the brand.”

You grin. “Right. So is tripping over ramen cups, apparently.”

“Stop bringing that up!” she yells, but she’s laughing now, full and loud, the kind of laugh that makes her eyes curve into crescents. You think it’s the prettiest sound you’ve heard in a long time.

That night, she’s back in her childhood room — the one with faded posters and fairy lights that don’t all work anymore. She’s lying on her stomach, scrolling through your messages.

“You still hate the green popsicle part?”

“Obviously”

“Good. more for me.”

“you’re so predictable it’s boring”

“and you’re still so annoying”

She giggles quietly, hugging her pillow to her chest. It feels like the years apart are shrinking, collapsing into the space between your texts.

She replays what you said, “Who said we ever stopped?”

You’d said it like a joke, like a throwaway line. But it sticks.

Her smile lingers, soft and sleepy. But when the phone screen goes dark, the quiet feels heavier.

The words echo in her mind again.

Who said we ever stopped?

She turns over, staring at the ceiling, her expression unreadable.

“You didn’t say anything,” she whispers to no one. “That’s the problem.”

You remember that night because it felt too alive to fade.

The sky had that deep, heavy blue that only happens after the rain threatens but doesn’t fall. The streetlights buzzed above you like nervous thoughts, catching in the damp air, and somewhere down the block, someone’s radio played an old love song out of tune.

Kotone had insisted on dragging you out of the house after dinner — said you were getting boring, said she missed your “chaotic energy.” You said that was her way of admitting she was lonely. She told you to shut up, and you did. Because she was Kotone

So you ended up on her porch steps, half a pack of Pocky between you, cicadas screaming like background noise to your laughter.

“You’re seriously bad at this,” she said, balancing a Pocky stick on her nose, face scrunched in focus.

You watched her — her lips pressed together, hair falling over her cheek, the faintest pink at the tips of her ears.

The stick fell.

“Yes!” you said, triumphant. “Finally!”

She groaned, swatting your shoulder. “You were literally rooting for me to fail.”

“Wrong. I was rooting for justice to prevail.”

“Justice?” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Says the person who threw my controller last time I beat them at Pokemon.”

“You threw it first!”

“I gently placed it…”

“I will smack you into tomorrow”

“against the wall”

You laughed so hard your stomach hurt, and for a moment, it felt like time folded back on itself — like you were both children again, like the world hadn’t yet taught you about distance or fear or how dreams can be the cruelest kind of beautiful.

And you thought: This is the night.

The folded letter in your pocket felt heavy — as if it already knew its fate. You’d written it days ago, unable to sleep, every word raw and unsure: how she made everything brighter, how you didn’t know when friendship had stopped being enough. It wasn’t poetic. It wasn’t even neat. But it was real.

You’d told yourself you’d give it to her tonight. Or at least say something.

But before you could gather the courage, she spoke.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she said suddenly.

The world stilled. Even the cicadas seemed to hold their breath.

“I got scouted,” she said.

“Like what? For basketball? You might be a little bit too…” You barely finish before Kotone shoves you to the ground, a pout on her face.

“No you idiot. To be an idol. In a girl group. In Korea. Like Loona.”

Your throat went dry. “Korea?”

She nodded, eyes darting to yours, like she was waiting for your reaction. “Yeah. For a company. It’s… it’s real. They want me to start soon.”

The words hit you like a wave you didn’t see coming.

“That’s—wow,” you said, trying to sound happy. “That’s amazing.”

“It’s kind of insane, right? I didn’t think it would actually happen.” Her voice trembled on a laugh. “But I think I have to go. I want to try.”

You swallowed. “Of course you do.”

She looked at you then — really looked at you. And something in your chest twisted. Because you could see it: excitement and fear flickering together in her eyes, like firelight in a storm.

“I’m scared,” she admitted softly.

You tried to smile. “You? The girl who fought a seagull over fries?”

Her laugh cracked the tension. “That seagull was terrifying. But that fucker had it coming. No one touches your fries”

“Sure. The poor bird probably tells its friends about you.”

She elbowed you. “You’re such an idiot.”

You grinned. “Takes one to know one.”

“Don’t make me miss you before I even leave,” she said, and it was playful, but the words stuck in your chest anyway.

You wanted to say, Then don’t leave.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Instead, you said, “You’re going to be incredible.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” you said quietly. “You’ve always been the brave one.”

Her smile faltered, just for a second. “That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m running away?”

You didn’t have an answer. You wanted to tell her that maybe chasing something doesn’t mean you’re running — that sometimes it’s just the only way to see how far your wings can carry you.

But the words got tangled somewhere between your heart and your mouth, so all that came out was a shaky laugh.

“Well,” you said, “if you are running, at least you look cool doing it.”

She threw a Pocky stick at you. “Stop ruining my emotional moments.”

“I’m just trying to lighten the mood!”

“You’re impossible,” she said, but she was smiling again.

That smile — that’s what destroyed you. The way she could look both terrified and radiant at the same time, like she already belonged to somewhere beyond your reach.

“Promise me something?” she said suddenly.

“Anything.”

“You’ll always be there for me. No matter what.”

You hesitated, then forced a grin. “Of course. I’m basically immortal.”

She laughed, but her eyes were too wet to hide it. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’ve been told.”

The rain started then — light at first, just a whisper against the roof. The kind of rain that blurs the world without washing anything away.

You didn’t move. Neither did she.

You just sat there, shoulder to shoulder, both pretending the night wasn’t slipping away beneath your feet.

And when it was finally time to go, she followed you to the gate.

“Don’t forget me, okay?” she said, trying to make it sound casual.

You smiled, even though your throat ached. “Never.”

You turned before she could see your face, the rain masking the sting in your eyes.

Somewhere on the walk home, the letter slipped out of your pocket. You didn’t notice. You wouldn’t find out until much later — by which point it wouldn’t have mattered.

Because by then, Kotone was already gone.

At first, she messaged you every day. Photos of her dorm. Complaints about sore muscles. Voice notes of her laughing about weird Korean snacks. You replied at first, quick and easy — keeping the rhythm alive, pretending you hadn’t noticed the growing distance behind the jokes.

But slowly, the messages became shorter. The hours between them longer. The emojis fewer.

And you started typing replies you never sent.

You doing okay? You eating enough? Don’t burn out too fast.

Delete. Rewrite. Delete again.

You told yourself she was busy. That she was chasing something worth the silence.

Then it got harder to lie to yourself. Her text messages went unreplied. Phone calls went unanswered.

Until one night, your phone buzzed again.

✉️Kotone: You promised you’d always be there for me

You stared at the message until your eyes blurred. Typed a reply.

You: I still am.

Your thumb hovered over “send.”

You almost can’t stop yourself

Then you turned the screen off.

You told yourself she’d understand.

That this was what it meant to love someone enough to let them go.

But the truth was quieter, sharper.

You weren’t letting her go.

You were just running away

And so the night she told you she was leaving became the last night that still felt like both of you — the laughter too loud, the silences too full, the air heavy with everything you didn’t say.

You’re halfway through a lazy summer afternoon nap when someone knocks on your door — loud enough to shake your walls.

You groan. “If this is a delivery, I didn’t order anything—”

But when you open the door, she’s there. Kotone, with her hair tied up in a messy ponytail, cheeks a little flushed from the sun, and two dripping melon popsicles clutched in one hand.

“You’re alive!” she declares.

“You’re loud,” you counter, blinking sleep from your eyes. “Also, you’re melting all over my porch.”

She grins, completely unbothered. “Then let me in before the sugar gods punish us both.”

Before you can respond, she’s already slipped past you, kicking off her shoes and making herself at home. She glances around your small living room like it’s some kind of museum exhibit.

“Wow,” she says, fake awe in her voice. “Still the same couch. Still the same curtains. Still the same tragic lack of interior design.”

You frown. “You’ve been here for, what, two seconds?”

“That’s all it takes for an idol’s expert eye,” she says proudly.

You cross your arms. “You couldn’t even win a game about recognising songs. I thought that was your wheelhouse Miss Kotone”

Her jaw drops. “You watched that?!”

“Internet exists,” you shrug.

She gasps. “You liar! You said you didn’t even know who TripleS was!”

“Still don’t,” you lie easily, leaning against the doorframe. “Sounds like a type of shampoo.”

Kotone looks personally offended. “We are a global idol collective!”

“Oh yeah, totally,” you nod seriously. “The one where Yooyeon, Seoyeon, and Yeonji ambushed you for your map, right? Iconic television.”

Her mouth falls open. “You— you watched Badge Wars?”

“Maybe,” you say. “Purely by accident.”

She narrows her eyes. “You absolutely didn’t stumble on it by accident.”

“I might’ve,” you tease. “Can’t believe you just turtled. I expected more fight from the girl who beat the lights out of me for taking her lunches”

She lets out a dramatic gasp. “Excuse me! That was a very special lunch!”

“If you say so” you say. “I just think you’ve lost your violent spark.”

“TAKE THAT BACK,” she yells, whacking your arm with the popsicle stick.

You yelp, laughing. “Violence! I’m being attacked by a national idol!”

“WHO’S LOST HER VIOLENT SPARK NOW!”

The whole house fills with your laughter — hers bright and unrestrained, yours helplessly caught up in it. The kind of laughter that hurts in the best way.

When you both finally calm down, she leans her head back on the couch, breathless and smiling. “I missed this,” she says softly.

You pause, caught off guard by how quietly she says it.

But then she stands and tosses you one of the popsicles. “Come on. Riverbank. It’s tradition.”

The river looks exactly the same. The cicadas hum, the air smells like damp grass, and the sun dips lazily behind the hill.

You sit side by side, feet dangling over the water. She unwraps her popsicle and immediately wrinkles her nose.

“You still hate the green part,” she says.

“You still forget I like it,” you reply without missing a beat.

She gasps. “You’re lying. You hated it. You always gave me the green part for my orange.”

“Well, that’s because you’d throw a fit and pout if I didn’t give you the green part.”

“HEY! That was one time! And I had just flunked my exam, so I needed comfort food.”

“Well,” you shrug, “even if I used to hate it, taste changes. Maturity.”

“You? Mature?” she scoffs. “That’s the biggest lie you’ve told all day.”

You grin. “I’ve told bigger lies.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Kotone says through a laugh, though it sounds more like a challenge than a question.

The silence is almost deafening.

“Like saying TripleS sounds like a shampoo brand.”

She chokes on her popsicle laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, here you are,” you say softly.

The words hang there for a moment — heavier than you meant them to be.

You talk for hours. About stupid things — her trip to the convenience store, your tragic attempt at cooking, the time she almost mistook a microphone stand for a person backstage, and the other time she mistook a person for a microphone backstage. The second one went substantially worse.

But eventually, the laughter fades. The pauses between words grow longer.

Kotone leans back on her hands, eyes on the water. “You know,” she starts quietly, “sometimes I feel like I’m running in circles.”

You glance at her. She’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Being an idol sounds like a dream when you’re outside looking in,” she says. “But when you’re living it... sometimes it feels like you’re not living at all. Just— performing. Even when you’re supposed to be yourself.”

You stay quiet.

She keeps talking, voice soft, steady. “There’s always something next. Another show, another recording, another smile you have to put on. You have to hold your breath, and look graceful like a swan, diving underwater even when you’re drowning. And at night, when the lights go out, it’s just— quiet. You look around, and there are people everywhere, but somehow you feel…”

She doesn’t finish. She doesn’t need to.

Lonely.

The word echoes in your head anyway.

And suddenly, you can’t breathe right — because it hits you all at once. All those years she was out there, trying to be strong, trying to shine, and you weren’t there. You told yourself you were giving her space to chase her dream — but maybe what she needed was someone to tell her she didn’t have to shine all the time.

You look at her, and she’s looking away, blinking fast.

“Kotone,” you say softly.

She shakes her head, smiling too quickly. “Sorry. Wow, that got depressing fast. I didn’t mean to—”

“Hey,” you interrupt gently. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re allowed to be tired.”

Her lip trembles, but she laughs anyway. “You always say the right thing, you know that?”

“Only when it’s about you.”

Her cheeks flush, and she kicks at the water to hide it. “Still smooth, huh?”

“Always.”

“If only-” She catches herself, and you both tense up.

She laughs again — softer this time, almost fragile. Then her hand brushes yours, and both of you freeze.

For one heartbeat, you think neither of you will pull away. But you both do, pretending not to notice, staring hard at the river instead.

You can’t tell if your chest is burning from the sun or from her.

When you walk her home later, she lingers at her gate again, twirling the popsicle stick in her fingers.

“You know,” she says, “it’s weird. Everything here feels like it’s been waiting for me. Even you.”

You grin. “What can I say? I’m dependable.”

“Liar,” she says, laughing softly. Then, after a beat, she adds, “But… thanks for today.”

“For what?”

“For making me feel normal again.”

You smile, trying to ignore the ache in your chest. “Anytime, superstar.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue.

That night, you text her:

✉️You: get home safe? ✉️ Kotone: yup. stop worrying, grandpa. ✉️ You: not worrying. just making sure the world celebrity didn’t get lost again. ✉️ Kotone: you mean like how you get lost in your own neighborhood? ✉️ You: that was one time. ✉️ Kotone: once a disaster, always a disaster. goodnight. ✉️ You: goodnight, trouble.

You hover over your screen for a long moment before locking it.

And across town, Kotone does the same — staring at your last message, smiling until the smile trembles.

Both of you fall asleep that night with the same thought echoing softly: how easily laughter can hide the things you’re both still too scared to say.

You hadn’t planned to call. Really. It had started as one of those stupid, impulsive ideas you normally talk yourself out of halfway through — only this time, you didn’t. Kotone had been back in town for a few days, and everything had felt almost like before. Laughing until your cheeks hurt, teasing her about her “celebrity walk,” pretending that years hadn’t slipped between you like pages torn out of a book.

And then the laughter would fade, and you’d catch her staring out the window for just a second too long. That’s when it hit you — how much you’d missed. How many moments you weren’t there for. How much you’d let her bear alone.

So, of course, your next logical step was to sign up for a fancall. With her group. Yeah. Brilliant. The writer needs to stop writing shit cliches and wrap it up.

You couldn’t exactly ask Kotone for advice on how to stop being the person who hurt her. So you told yourself that maybe, just maybe, the people who spent the most time with her — her members — might help you figure it out. Without knowing who you really were.

Your finger hovered over the confirmation button. “Don’t be weird,” you muttered. “Just… do it.”

Then your screen flashed. Connected — Nien (TripleS).

Immediately, chaos. Pure, glorious, unfiltered chaos.

Nien’s face filled your phone, a grin stretching from ear to ear. Her hair bounced with every movement, one earbud dangling like it had its own orbit. Somewhere behind her, voices echoed — shouting, laughter, a faint “Nien, stop throwing things!” and a loud crash.

“HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO! IS THIS A REAL HUMAN?!” she screeched, leaning so close to the camera her nose almost fogged the lens. “Finally! A calm one! Normal energy! Oh my god, a break!”

You blinked. “Uh— hi?”

She pointed dramatically at the camera. “You have no idea what I’ve been through today. The last call? The girl whispered my name for two minutes and then fainted. Fainted! I thought she’d lagged out, but no, she just fell sideways! I respected it though — commitment! Romantic! Honestly? I kinda fell for her a little.”

You choked on your laugh. “That… sounds intense.”

“She’s living in my mind rent-free now,” Nien said solemnly, before instantly switching tones. “Anyway! You’re breathing normally, so you’re already my new favorite. Normal! Calm! Safe! Boring but safe!”

“Thanks?”

“Don’t ruin it!” she warned cheerfully, spinning in her chair hard enough to blur. “So! Why are you here, mysterious normal person? You’ve got the ‘I have emotional damage’ face. Spill!”

You hesitated. Then, maybe because she was so wildly disarming, you did. “I need advice. About a friend. Someone I promised I’d always be there for… and I wasn’t. I thought staying away would protect her, but I think it just made her feel alone. Now I don’t know how to fix it. Or if I even can.”

Nien gasped so dramatically you were sure it echoed through the dorm. “OH MY GOD. THIS IS A K-DRAMA. I LOVE IT.”

You blinked. “That’s… not—”

“No no no, listen, I’m invested. Okay, step one!” She raised a finger like she was teaching a masterclass. “Admit you messed up. Not with a novel. Not with a sad PowerPoint. Just say: ‘I was wrong. I’m sorry.’ Keep it short and punchy, like a good chorus drop. Boom!”

You bit back a smile. “Okay…”

“Step two,” she said, spinning again, this time juggling her phone and a stuffed penguin. “Context, not excuses. ‘I thought I was protecting you’ — valid. ‘I’m a noble tragic hero’ — not valid. Nobody likes that. You ghost someone for ‘their own good’? No! That’s Marvel-movie behavior.”

You snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Step three! Actions, not speeches!” she continued, shaking the penguin for emphasis. “Little things! Quiet gestures! Put a snack she likes in her bag, send a postcard, share a stupid meme. Do not flood her inbox like you’re spamming a game boss. Consistency over chaos. Small moves, big meaning.”

Her energy was relentless — a hurricane in a hoodie — but somewhere under the comedy, her words stuck.

“Step four!” she yelled. “Timing! You don’t just barge in with a speech like in movies! You ask. ‘Can I tell you something I should have said before?’ She says yes? Go! She says no? You wait. Respect her rhythm. Timing makes or breaks everything.”

You nodded slowly. “You’re… actually really good at this.”

“I contain multitudes,” she declared, striking a dramatic pose before laughing. “But seriously—wait, I have something real to say.”

And just like that, she shifted. The grin softened. Her voice steadied.

“Listen,” she said quietly, eyes still bright but suddenly focused. “The past means more to people than it shows sometimes. There was this once, I did something… stupid. I stole a letter from a member. Thought it’d be funny. Just a prank. You know — Nien chaos. But when they realized it was missing… they freaked out. Not like, cute angry. Real angry. Crying. Shaking. It was—” she exhaled, “—it was bad.”

You stayed silent, sensing how rare this side of her was.

“I didn’t get it back then,” she continued. “I thought, ‘It’s just a piece of paper.’ But to them, it was everything. Memories. Love. Something that kept them grounded. When I saw how broken they looked — like I’d taken away something sacred — I felt so small. I tried to joke, to fix it, but some things… you can’t fix with jokes.”

She looked down briefly, then back at you. “That’s when I learned: everyone has anchors. Things that keep them steady when the world spins too fast. You mess with those — you’re not just being dumb, you’re breaking something. Don’t take someone’s anchor. Protect it.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than the chaos before.

Then she clapped her hands suddenly, the sound exploding through your earbuds. “OKAY! EMO TIME OVER!” she shouted, half-laughing. “So, moral of the story: Don’t ghost, don’t steal, don’t play the tragic hero. Do small, honest things. Listen when they talk. And if she tells you she was lonely—” her voice softened again, “—don’t try to fix it right away. Just… say you’re sorry she felt that way. That you wish you’d been there. That’s all. That’s enough.”

“I’m beginning to sound like Seoyeon…eww” Nien mutters to herself

Her eyes lingered on the camera for a moment, kind and unguarded. Then she grinned again, wide and unhinged. “Now! I’m gonna go pester Jiwoo because she hid my ramen cup. Wish me luck, normal human!”

“Good luck,” you said, still dazed from her whirlwind of sincerity and noise.

She saluted. “May chaos guide you!” she yelled, spinning so fast you caught a blur of colors before the call disconnected.

And then the screen went black.

You sat there for a long moment, the silence almost too loud after all that noise. Somewhere outside, cicadas hummed, as if they’d been waiting for you to listen again.

You weren’t exactly sure what counted as a “small gesture.” After Nien’s whirlwind advice session, you’d spent the next morning staring blankly into your fridge, trying to decode her words like they were a secret questline.

“Tiny gestures,” she’d said. “Consistency. No tragic speeches.”

So, naturally, your brilliant idea was: invite Kotone over. Low risk, high reward, right? Just hang out. Casual. Friendly. Not emotionally catastrophic. Probably.

When you texted her — hey, come over? I’ll cook something? — she replied almost immediately.

✉️Kotone: wow, u? cooking? ✉️ Kotone: is this a threat or an invitation ✉️ You: it’s called growth ✉️ Kotone: it’s called attempted murder

She showed up anyway.

The doorbell rang, and before you could even finish drying your hands, she was already half through the doorway, holding a bag of chips and looking far too at home for someone who hadn’t been there in years.

“Smells suspiciously edible,” she said, leaning over your shoulder to peek at the pan. “Who are you and what have you done with the disaster I used to know?”

“Disaster’s still here,” you muttered. “Just… slightly reformed.”

Kotone grinned — that same sharp, sunshine-filled grin that made your heart stutter. “Wow. Reformed. Big word. Did you learn that from your therapist or from watching cooking shows?”

“Neither,” you shot back. “From surviving your ego.”

“Fair,” she laughed, tossing her hair dramatically before hopping onto the counter like it was still her house. “So what’s the occasion? You suddenly feeling generous? Or guilty?”

You handed her a spoonful of soup. “Neither. I just figured we could hang out.”

She tasted it, hummed, and gave a small nod. “Not bad. Still too salty, though. Fitting.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending her presence didn’t fill every quiet corner of your house like it always used to. She looked the same — older, maybe, but still her. The mischievous tilt in her eyes, the way her foot swung idly against the cabinet door, the slight smile when she thought you weren’t looking.

Dinner went as well as expected. You bickered about everything — from how much garlic you added, to whether her band’s choreography looked painful (“We’re professionals, not contortionists,” she’d said indignantly), to who could hold more ice cream in one bite.

And then, somewhere between dessert and laughter, she noticed.

You’d poured her water before she asked. Pulled out a blanket when she shivered. Reached to fix the strap of her hoodie when it slipped. You didn’t even think about it — it just happened.

Kotone squinted at you. “Okay, wait. What’s going on here?”

“What?” you asked, mid-sip.

“You’re being…” she tilted her head, smirking. “Nice. Like—unusually nice. Suspiciously nice. You going soft on me?”

You choked. “I’m just being decent.”

“Oh no no,” she teased, pointing her spoon dramatically. “This isn’t decent. This is you, serving me soup and tucking me in with a blanket like some kind of romcom lead who finally learned empathy. What happened? Did guilt finally evolve you into a functioning adult?”

You gave her your best deadpan stare. “Keep talking and I’ll revoke your soup privileges.”

“Too late,” she said around a mouthful of soup. “Soup’s mine now.”

You sighed, but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. It was chaotic, familiar, her. And somehow, it made your chest ache in the gentlest way.

After dinner, the two of you ended up in the living room, legs tangled on opposite sides of the couch, a movie playing in the background — one neither of you were watching.

Kotone was scrolling through her phone, when she suddenly said, “You know… this feels weird.”

You glanced at her. “Weird how?”

“Like…” she scrunched her nose, searching for words. “Like time froze. Like we just… paused for a few years and now we’re unpausing.”

You nodded, your voice soft. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

“You just…threw away the remote.” Kotone doesn’t let that statement hang in the air long enough to sting.

She looked at you for a second too long, eyes soft and unreadable. “You still remember all the small things. The soup, the blanket, the way I like the fan on setting two instead of three.”

“I told you,” you said, trying to smile, “I have an excellent memory.”

“Liar,” she teased, but her voice trembled just slightly at the edges. “You forgot me for years.”

The air stilled. You opened your mouth to reply — to explain, to apologize — but then she smiled again, a little too brightly. “Kidding! Relax! You look like you’re about to cry or propose or something.”

You forced a laugh, even as your chest tightened. “Yeah, you wish.”

She threw a pillow at you. “Oh, please. You couldn’t handle me.”

“Handle you? You’re like caffeine mixed with chaos. I barely survived the soup.”

She laughed so hard she nearly fell off the couch, the sound bright and unguarded — like nothing had ever hurt her. You laughed too, because that’s what you both did best. Pretend it was all okay.

And for that night, maybe it was.

Because even if your chest still ached with all the things you hadn’t said, even if she still smiled like she was holding something back — for now, you were here. Together. Talking too much, laughing too loud, sharing old warmth as if it had never gone cold.

And maybe, you thought, watching her curled up with a popsicle in hand and that familiar glint in her eyes, that was what healing looked like — not grand gestures, not dramatic confessions, but quiet, ridiculous moments of almost-normal.

“Hey,” Kotone said suddenly, voice softening. “You’re still bad at hiding it, you know?”

“Hiding what?”

She smiled, lazy and knowing. “When you care.”

You froze — then threw a cushion at her, half-panicked, half-flustered.

“See?” she laughed. “Knew it. Softie.”

You groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

“Admit it,” she grinned, biting her popsicle. “You missed me.”

You looked away. “Only sometimes.”

She kicked your leg lightly. “Liar.”

You smiled. “Always.”

Her grin faltered, just for a moment — but then she laughed again, because that’s what both of you did best.

And when she left that night, humming under her breath, the house still smelled faintly of soup and summer.

If you had to describe the kitchen right now, “crime scene” wouldn’t be far off.

There was flour on the ceiling. How it got there, you would never know.

“Okay—okay wait,” you said, half laughing, half choking as Kotone somehow managed to flick more flour onto your shirt. “How are you this bad at baking?”

“I’m amazing at baking,” she said, indignant, holding a whisk like a weapon. “You’re just in my way.”

“In your way? You threw butter at me, Kotone.”

“I didn’t throw it,” she argued, though she was absolutely lying through her teeth. “It just… slipped aggressively.”

The countertop was a battlefield. A measuring cup had gone missing in action. Sugar coated the floor in a fine layer of crystalline snow. Kotone stood triumphant in the middle of it all, hair tied in a messy bun that was already coming undone, sleeves rolled to her elbows, a smear of chocolate across her cheek.

You were supposed to be making cookies. You were instead making chaos.

“Stop laughing and help me, oh my god—” Kotone said, attempting to whisk the batter again, only for it to splatter up onto her wrist.

You leaned against the counter, grin spreading wider. “Are you sure you’re not secretly auditioning for a food fight drama?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re talking a lot for someone who mixed salt instead of sugar.”

“That was an experiment!”

“That was a crime!”

You reached for the spatula to defend your honor, only for her to snatch it from your hand and hold it aloft. “Not so fast, traitor!”

“Oh, you’re dead,” you said, lunging forward.

The next thirty seconds could only be described as culinary warfare. Kotone ducked, laughed, tried to dodge your grab for the spatula, and ended up bumping into the counter, sending a small cloud of flour into the air. You caught her wrist at the same time she tried to smear chocolate on your face, and the both of you froze — faces inches apart, eyes wide, breathing too fast.

Then she burst out laughing. And the moment shattered like sugar glass.

“Okay, okay, truce!” she said between giggles. “Before we destroy your kitchen completely!”

You let go, still smiling despite yourself. “You started it.”

“And you escalated it,” she countered, poking your chest. “Classic you.”

By the time the cookies were finally in the oven, you were both covered in a respectable layer of chaos — flour, sugar, laughter, and unspoken things.

Kotone flopped onto the couch beside you, arms stretched out dramatically. “I think we burned half of them.”

“Half is a win,” you said.

“Half is a tragedy,” she corrected, but her grin gave her away.

She leaned her head back, eyes closed, still smiling. “You know, you’ve been nice lately. Suspiciously nice.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Suspiciously?”

“Yeah.” She turned her head to look at you, smirk soft but playful. “You used to throw flour first. Now you help me bake. What’s up with that?”

“Maybe I just matured,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Kotone snorted. “Yeah, and maybe I’m secretly an astronaut.”

“Would explain the spacey moments.”

“Excuse me?” she said, laughing as she smacked you with a kitchen towel.

You caught it before she could pull it back. “That’s violence, you know.”

“That’s justice.”

You tugged the towel gently, smiling. “You’ve gotten way too bold.”

She tilted her head, eyes glinting. “And you’ve gotten way too soft.”

The words hit a little closer than you expected. You forced a laugh. “Maybe I’m just trying to keep you from burning my kitchen down.”

Kotone giggled, then reached over to steal a sip from your drink. “Sure. You’re totally not just being sweet to me for no reason.”

You nearly choked. “Wh—sweet?”

“Yeah, you’re practically glowing. You’re like, radiating domestic energy.”

“I take it back. You’re delusional.”

Kotone laughed so hard she almost dropped the cup. “God, I missed annoying you,” she said, half under her breath.

The sentence was soft enough that you almost didn’t catch it — and she pretended she hadn’t said it. But something in her eyes flickered, a quick, quiet shimmer of something else.

The timer dinged, breaking the air between you.

Kotone jumped up, all cheerful again. “Moment of truth!”

You followed her into the kitchen, both of you crowding around the oven like it held state secrets. The cookies were uneven, some slightly burnt, others weirdly perfect — a reflection of the two of you, maybe. A mess that somehow worked.

“See?” she said, holding one up proudly. “We’re a good team.”

You smiled. “Miraculously.”

Kotone grinned. “You mean thanks to me.”

“Sure,” you said, deadpan, “you and your violent cooking philosophy.”

“I bring the chaos,” she said brightly, “you bring the sarcasm. Balance.”

You handed her a cookie. “Here. Peace offering.”

She accepted it with a dramatic bow, then bit into it — and hummed, eyes lighting up. “Not bad! You actually did something right for once.”

“High praise,” you muttered, but couldn’t help smiling.

For a while, the two of you just ate in companionable silence — that easy rhythm you used to have slipping back like it never left. She talked a bit about the dorms, about how loud Yeonji was, about how Yooyeon kept stealing snacks at midnight. You listened, smiling at every story, every little glimpse into her world.

Then you said, “Hey, can you grab my gloves from the table?”

“Roger that,” she said, marching off.

You turned back to the cookies, humming quietly to yourself — and then heard a thump.

“Uh,” Kotone said from across the room, “your drawer just… declared independence?”

You spun around — and froze.

She was crouched beside your desk, one hand holding a file that had fallen open. Albums, posters, a binder — a whole archive, really — lay spread across the floor.

The binder was the worst part. It was thick, carefully labeled. Pages of her photo cards, some signed, some rare, all pristine.

Kotone blinked at it, then slowly looked up at you, eyes wide with amusement. “…You collect me?”

You immediately felt your soul leave your body. “That’s not— I— It’s not like—”

“Oh my god,” she said, trying and failing to suppress a grin. “This is—this is serious fan behavior. You have the limited edition one!”

You groaned, covering your face. “I can explain.”

“You better,” she teased, flipping through the pages. “Because this? This is intense. You even kept the little pre-order cards!”

You tried to snatch it back. “Stop!”

Kotone giggled, dodging you easily. “I didn’t know you were a stan! Should I start signing your walls? Maybe sell you my used water bottle?”

“Okay, that’s enough.”

She laughed, loud and delighted. “You’re blushing! Oh my god, you’re actually blushing!”

You groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

“Admit it, you missed me.”

You didn’t answer fast enough.

Kotone’s laughter faded just a little — not gone, just softer, gentler. She glanced down at one of the signed albums, tracing her finger over her name before setting it aside. “You really did keep up with everything, huh?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, suddenly unsure where to look. “Guess I did.”

There was a pause — small, fragile. Kotone smiled, but there was something behind it, something faint and hidden, like the echo of a thought she didn’t want to finish.

“Then I guess,” she said lightly, “I did something right.”

She stood, brushing off her hands, grin returning. “Anyway. Cookies are gonna burn. You can tell me later about how deep your fandom goes.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the tightness in your chest. “I’m regretting this baking session already.”

Kotone bumped your shoulder on her way past. “Liar.”

And as she reached for another cookie, humming softly under her breath, you realized how right she was. You didn’t regret it at all. Not even a little.

It starts with a photo.

Just one blurry photo — you and Kotone walking side by side, her laughter frozen mid-motion, her head tilted toward you beneath the warm blur of streetlights. Your arm brushes hers. The air glows soft and gold, tender in a way that feels like home.

But the internet doesn’t care about warmth. It doesn’t care about tenderness or how ordinary that night was. It only cares about who she was with.

Within hours, it’s everywhere.

“tripleS Kotone spotted on a date with a non-celebrity.” “Company refuses to comment.” “So disappointing. I thought she cared about her fans.”

You scroll until the words blur together. The comments multiply like rot — parasitic, relentless. By noon, her name trends worldwide. Every timeline, every screen, every headline.

Kotone’s phone vibrates nonstop. Her manager’s name flashes again and again — until she can’t look anymore. She sets it down, face-down on the bed, and the buzzing continues. She presses a pillow over her ears, but the sound keeps finding her.

Another call. Another message. Another wave of hate.

When she finally hurls the phone across the room, it bounces, hits the floor, and lights up again — like it refuses to let her rest.

You stand there helpless, watching as she curls up at the far edge of the bed, knees drawn tight, hoodie sleeves covering her hands. Her breaths come in shallow bursts. She’s trying not to cry, but her body shakes with the effort.

The comments keep coming.

“She’s just like the others.” “Fake.” “I can’t believe I ever supported her.” “She ruined everything.”

Every word cuts deeper than the last — and you can do nothing to stop it.

By evening, Kotone locks herself in her room.

You knock once. Nothing.

You try again, softer. “Kotone. Please.”

Still silence.

You slide down the wall, sitting on the floor, your back pressed to the door. The light under the crack glows faintly, flickering with movement. You rest your hand against it like maybe she’ll feel you there.

“I just want to know you’re okay,” you murmur.

No answer. Only the rain outside, slow and steady.

Minutes pass. Maybe hours. The world fades until it’s just the two of you — one behind the door, one waiting on the other side.

And then, a sound.

A small, broken sob.

It’s faint, but it feels like the air leaves your lungs.

You knock once more, barely a whisper. “Kotone?”

Nothing — and then the softest sniffle, so quiet you almost imagine it.

“I’m not leaving,” you whisper. “Not until you’re okay.”

And you stay there — long enough for the rain to turn to a downpour, long enough for your back to ache and your throat to burn with words you’ll never say.

Finally — the lock clicks.

The door opens a few inches.

She stands there, eyes red, hair tangled, wearing your old hoodie that hangs too big on her frame. Her hands are buried in the sleeves, trembling. Her lips are cracked from crying.

“Why are you here?” she asks, her voice raw, like it hurts to speak.

You blink. “Because I was worried.”

She laughs — short, sharp, hollow. “Now you’re worried?”

You open your mouth, but she’s already shaking her head. “You don’t get to say that.”

“Kotone—”

“No!” Her voice cracks, trembling with the kind of pain that’s been waiting years to escape. “You don’t get to pretend you care now. Not after everything.”

Your chest tightens. “I always cared—”

“Then where were you?” she shouts. “When I was in Korea — when I cried alone in the dorm bathroom, trying to cry softly to hide it from the others. When my manager yelled at me for every mistake. When I begged myself not to break down on camera.”

Her voice wavers, but she doesn’t stop. “Do you know what it’s like to stand on stage in front of thousands of people and still feel like no one’s looking at you? When the one person who promised they’d never leave — already has?”

Your breath catches. “Kotone—”

“I kept waiting for you!” she shouts again, tears streaming freely now. “Every night. I’d stare at my phone, watching that stupid green dot next to your name. I thought maybe you’d text first. Maybe tonight you’d remember me. But you never did.”

You swallow hard, words dying in your throat.

“Do you know how many times I almost called?” she whispers. “How many messages I typed out and deleted? How many times I told myself you were just busy, that you’d come back when you could?”

Her voice falters. “You promised you’d always be there.”

She looks up, eyes burning. “But you weren’t.”

You close your eyes. “I never stopped caring.”

Her laugh is sharp, pained. “Then why didn’t you show it?”

She steps forward, trembling. “You had binders. Binders, for God’s sake — of us, of me. Every photo, every album, every fan sign. You followed everything.”

You freeze.

Her tears spill faster. “You knew where I was. You watched every step I took. So if you cared so much—” her voice breaks, cracking open the silence between you — “then why didn’t you call?”

You can’t look at her.

“Do you know what that felt like?” she whispers. “To know you were still out there, still watching — but remembering that you didn’t call me? Not even once?”

Her hand hits your chest. Once. Twice. Weak, but it trembles with grief. “You were right there,” she sobs. “And you still let me believe you didn’t care.”

You can’t move.

“I thought you hated me,” she whispers. “I thought I wasn’t worth missing.”

You open your mouth, but she cuts you off — her breath shaking, her eyes wild.

“Why didn’t you tell me you missed me?” she says. “Why didn’t you just say something?”

Her voice cracks, and she lifts something in her hands. A small, worn envelope.

Your stomach drops.

The letter.

Your letter — the one you wrote before she left for Seoul. The one you lost that night she told you she was leaving.

“Kotone…”

Her hands shake as she holds it up. “Do you know how many times I read this?” she asks softly. “Before every show. Every rehearsal. Every time I wanted to give up. You said you believed in me. You told me to chase my dream.”

Tears spill down her cheeks, her lips trembling. “You told me you’d wait.”

She looks up at you, her voice cracking open. “So why?”

You can barely breathe.

“Why didn’t you tell me you loved me?” she whispers.

And just like that — the room breaks.

You can’t move. You can’t speak. The storm outside swells, thunder rumbling like the world itself is grieving with her.

Finally, you manage, “Because if I did… I was afraid you’d stay.”

Her eyes widen, confusion flickering into hurt.

You take a shaky breath. “If I told you how I felt, I was afraid you’d give up everything. I didn’t want to be the reason you quit. The reason you regretted your dream. I couldn’t live with that.”

Kotone stares at you, disbelieving. Her lip quivers. “You idiot,” she breathes. “You absolute idiot.”

“I know.”

She lets out a small, broken laugh. “You think I wouldn’t have chosen you?”

Your throat tightens.

“I already did,” she says. Her voice is so soft you almost miss it. “Before I left. That night you wrote this — I already knew.”

Tears fall freely now. “I spent years loving you in silence. Every time I smiled on stage, I thought — maybe you’d see me. Maybe you’d look at me and call me. Maybe you’d remember. But you didn’t need to. You already had me, didn’t you? Trapped in your binders, frozen in pictures, easier that way, wasn’t it?”

You feel your knees go weak.

“I was out there trying to become someone you’d be proud of,” she says, “and all I ever wanted was for you to pick up the phone.”

The rain crashes against the glass, drowning the world outside.

Neither of you speaks.

Then, quietly — brokenly — she says, “You should’ve let me decide what I wanted.”

You look at her. She’s trembling, eyes glassy and distant.

“I would’ve stayed,” she whispers. “Even if it ruined me. Even if I had to start over, or I had to find another way to chase my dreams. I would’ve stayed for you.”

Her voice cracks completely. She sinks to her knees, curling in on herself, her face hidden behind trembling hands.

And you — you sink down beside her, useless and heavy, a thousand apologies caught in your throat.

Thunder rolls in the distance.

Inside, the two of you sit in silence — close enough to touch, but worlds apart.

And for the first time, you realize that loving her quietly might have been the cruelest thing you ever did.

The river was quiet that night—too quiet for a world that kept moving. The current whispered against the stones, soft and steady, like it had all the time in the world to listen. You didn’t. You sat there with your arms wrapped loosely around your knees, staring at your reflection as it wavered and broke with each passing ripple.

You weren’t sure what you were waiting for. Maybe forgiveness. Maybe just a familiar voice to fill the silence.

When it came, it was softer than you remembered. “Hey.”

You turned. Kotone stood a few steps behind you, hair pulled into a loose ponytail, the wind tugging at her bangs. In her hands were two melon popsicles, the kind the two of you used to buy every summer from the tiny shop near the bus stop.

Without saying anything, she walked over and sat beside you. Close enough that her sleeve brushed yours. She offered one out.

You took it.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. You both just sat there, legs dangling near the water, watching the popsicles slowly melt in your hands.

Finally, Kotone broke the silence. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You nodded. “Me neither.”

“Too many thoughts,” she said quietly. “Too many voices.”

Her tone wasn’t bitter—just tired. The kind of tired that doesn’t come from lack of rest but from being stretched thin for too long.

“I’m sorry,” you said. The words were too small, too late. But they were real.

Kotone didn’t answer right away. She just nudged a pebble into the water with her shoe and watched the ripples bloom outward. “You know,” she said eventually, “I came here before I left for Korea. Every night the week before. Just… to feel calm.”

You looked at her. “Yeah. I remember.”

Her lips curved into a faint smile. “I thought if I sat here long enough, I’d stop being scared. That I’d find some kind of sign that I was doing the right thing.” She laughed under her breath. “Didn’t work, though. I was still terrified.”

You swallowed. “I was terrified too, and not just of making you not chase your dreams.”

“Then what?”

“That you’d forget me,” you said honestly. “That you’d move on. That one day I’d see you smiling onstage, and you wouldn’t remember the person who used to walk you home.”

Kotone blinked, surprised. “You thought I’d forget you?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

She shook her head, letting out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “You’re such an idiot.”

“I’ve been told.”

She smiled a little, but it faded just as quickly. “I never forgot you. Not even once. Every city I went to, every stage, every new dorm… there was always something that reminded me of you.”

Her voice softened, trembling just slightly. “There’d be nights when I couldn’t sleep, and I’d reread your letter. I must’ve read it a hundred times. Sometimes I’d cry, sometimes I’d laugh, but I always… I always felt like you were still with me, even when you weren’t.”

Your chest tightened. “I didn’t mean to disappear, Kotone. I just—”

“I know,” she said, cutting you off gently. “I wouldn’t have done it, but I know why you did.”

You looked at her, confused.

“You thought you were protecting me,” she continued. “You thought if you stayed away, it’d make it easier for me to focus. To chase my dream without looking back.”

You exhaled slowly. “I thought it was the right thing to do.”

She nodded. “I know. That’s why it hurt so much.”

Her words caught you off guard.

“I never hated you,” she said. “Not once. I was angry, yeah. Sad. I thought maybe I’d said something wrong. But I never hated you. I wanted to. It would have hurt less that way, but I just… missed you so much it hurt.”

You looked down, fingers tightening around the wooden stick of the popsicle. “I missed you too. Every day. Every time I saw you smiling on screen, I’d tell myself you looked happy, that you didn’t need me anymore. But then I’d see it—the same look in your eyes I used to see when you were scared.”

Kotone was quiet for a moment, her gaze on the water. Then, softly, she said, “I wasn’t happy. Not really. I loved what I was doing, but… it always felt like something was missing.”

You turned to her. “What was missing?”

Her eyes met yours. “You.”

You froze. The simplicity of it hit harder than any argument, any outburst could have.

“You were always there in the back of my mind,” she continued, voice trembling. “When the lights went off after a concert, when I was too tired to take off my makeup, when I felt small in a room full of people. I’d think, ‘If I could just call you, it’d be okay.’ But I couldn’t.”

The silence that followed was fragile. You could hear the sound of the water, the faint echo of traffic from the bridge nearby, the small cracks in both of your hearts trying to mend themselves in real time.

“I thought you stopped caring,” she whispered.

“I never did,” you said. “I just thought… I didn’t deserve to. To risk ruining your dreams for my own selfishness”

She turned toward you then, eyes wet but steady. “That was my choice, not yours.”

Neither of you spoke after that for a while. The night was heavy but softer somehow, like it had finally loosened its grip.

After a long pause, Kotone leaned her head against your shoulder. It was tentative at first, like testing whether she still had permission. When you didn’t move, she relaxed, her hair brushing against your arm.

You let out a shaky breath. “You still like the green part?”

She smiled faintly, voice muffled against your shoulder. “Yeah. Always have.”

You smiled too, just barely. “Guess some things don’t change.”

“Some do,” she murmured.

You turned to her, but she didn’t lift her head. “Like what?”

“This,” she said simply. “Being here again. Talking. Not pretending anymore.”

You felt her hand brush yours then—accidental, maybe, but it lingered just a moment too long to be nothing.

The cicadas hummed louder, the river shimmered under the moonlight, and in that quiet, you realized something. Maybe this wasn’t forgiveness. Not yet. Maybe it was something better—understanding.

A beginning, not an ending.

Kotone sighed softly. “I don’t know what’s next,” she said. “But… if you’re here, I think I’ll be okay.”

You turned to look at her then, really look—her tired eyes, her faint smile, the girl you loved who somehow still looked at you like you were worth the wait.

You reached out, hesitated, then gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said quietly.

She laughed softly. “Good. Took you long enough.”

And then she leaned in just a little closer, her voice barely a whisper. “You know, I think I started loving you before I even realized it.”

You smiled. “Funny. I think I did too.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The air between you felt warmer somehow, softer, like all the sharp edges had dulled a little.

Kotone nudged you with her shoulder. “You owe me a lot of ice cream,” she muttered.

You blinked. “What?”

“For emotional damages,” she said, taking another bite of her popsicle. “And for every time you didn’t text back.”

You laughed again, and this time, it reached your eyes. “That’s gonna be expensive.”

“I’m worth it,” she said, grinning faintly, and for a second—just a second—you saw the old Kotone again, the one who smiled with her whole face.

You both sat there until the sky went fully dark, the streetlights reflecting on the water like stars that had fallen too close.

At some point, she leaned her head against your shoulder. You froze at first—then relaxed, letting your head tilt slightly toward hers.

The cold from the popsicles had long since faded, replaced by the warmth of her against you.

“Don’t disappear again,” she murmured.

You nodded. “Only if you don’t run.”

She smiled faintly. “Deal.”

The river moved quietly beside you, carrying away the last of the hurt, the last of the silence.

And under the moonlight, with sticky fingers and hearts still piecing themselves back together, you and Kotone stayed there—two broken halves, finally remembering how to fit.

The sun hung low, spilling gold over the river and turning everything soft and drowsy. The air smelled faintly of summer rain, and Kotone sat on your porch steps with her knees pulled to her chest, a half-melted popsicle dripping onto her wrist. You’d both spent the day doing absolutely nothing — wandering through town, bickering in shops, pretending the clock wasn’t ticking down to her flight.

Now, it was just you two, sitting in the hush between cicada calls, pretending you weren’t counting how many hours you had left.

“Your porch still creaks in the same places,” Kotone said, rocking slightly, her voice light. “You should fix it.”

You smiled. “If I did, you wouldn’t know where to step.”

She laughed — that bright, melodic laugh that still made your chest ache. “Right. Can’t ruin the nostalgia.”

You leaned back against the railing, eyes on the fading sky. It was so easy again. Too easy. The space between you felt charged, like the seconds before a storm — not the kind that destroys, but the kind that drenches you and makes you remember what warmth feels like after.

When she turned to look at you, the light caught in her hair, and you thought — just for a second — that she didn’t look like the idol everyone else saw. She looked like your Kotone. The girl who used to race you down the hill behind your school. The girl who used to steal your snacks and then act offended when you noticed. The girl who never really left, even when she did.

“You’re staring,” she said, tilting her head with a teasing grin.

“I’m not,” you lied.

Kotone raised a brow. “Oh? Then what are you looking at?”

“Someone who doesn’t know how to eat a popsicle without it melting all over her.”

She gasped, smacking your arm lightly. “You’re such a brat.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

You grinned, swiping a drip of syrup off her hand before she could. “You’re hopeless.”

The touch lingered longer than it should’ve. For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. Her eyes flickered down to your hand, then up again — and suddenly the air felt too thick, too heavy. You both laughed it off, too quick, too practiced.

She shifted closer, the distance shrinking, until her shoulder brushed yours. “You really didn’t change much,” she murmured, softer this time. “Still the same you.”

You turned to her. “You think that’s a good thing?”

Kotone smiled faintly. “Yeah. It is.”

Silence followed — comfortable, but fragile. You could hear the river murmuring in the distance, the sound of home, of summers that used to feel endless.

“I used to think,” she said after a while, “that maybe we’d never get back here. Not like this.”

You looked down at your hands. “Yeah. Me too.”

“I’m glad we did.” Her voice trembled just a little. “Even if it’s just for now.”

You swallowed hard. The words you’d been holding for years pressed against your tongue, desperate and heavy. But you didn’t say them — not yet. Maybe because you were scared. Maybe because she was leaving.

“Do you ever think about—” you began, but she interrupted with a small, knowing smile.

“All the time,” she said.

That stopped you.

“Whatever you were about to ask,” she added, “yes. I think about it all the time.”

You exhaled a shaky laugh. “You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“I do.”

You turned to face her fully now. The world seemed to narrow to just her — her lips curved in a small smile, her eyes glinting with something that looked too much like everything you’d ever wanted.

“Kotone,” you said quietly.

She leaned in just a little, enough for your breath to catch. “Hmm?”

You hesitated. The words hovered there — I love you, don’t go, stay — but you couldn’t ruin it. Not yet. The world already took enough from her.

“Thank you,” you said instead. “For coming back. For everything.”

Her smile faltered, softened. She looked at you for a long moment, eyes searching yours like she was trying to read all the words you weren’t saying. Then she whispered, “Always.”

The word hung between you, as soft as the evening breeze, as fragile as the fading light.

You both sat there until the stars came out — your shoulders pressed together, laughter spilling quietly between the silences, the unspoken confession resting somewhere in the warmth of her hand against yours.

Neither of you said it out loud. But it didn’t matter.

Because in that small, fleeting summer night, you both knew.

You always had.

Kotone left on a Tuesday. The morning after felt like a hangover — not from alcohol, but from all the feelings you didn’t say. Her mug still sat in your sink, half-rinsed. A hair tie you didn’t remember her taking off clung to your wrist. Everything looked normal, and yet, everything didn’t.

You told yourself you wouldn’t expect her to text first. She had schedules, practices, interviews — a life that didn’t have room for waiting. So you didn’t expect it. But she texted anyway.

✉️ Kotone [9:47 PM]: landed safe :) ✉️ Kotone [9:48 PM]: i miss the creaky porch already ✉️ You [9:50 PM]: wow that was fast ✉️ You [9:50 PM]: didn’t even get a dramatic “goodbye forever” at the airport ✉️ Kotone [9:51 PM]: sorry, i didn’t want to cry in front of the paparazzi lol ✉️ You [9:51 PM]: fair ✉️ Kotone [9:52 PM]: …but i did cry a little in the cab ✉️ You [9:52 PM]: loser ✉️ Kotone [9:53 PM]: says the one who kept my mug hostage

You smiled at your phone like an idiot.

That became your new rhythm — little texts between long hours. You learned that Kotone was the type to message at the oddest times. 2:16 AM, after a rehearsal. 11:03 AM, when she was half-asleep on the studio floor. Her texts were little windows into her world — messy, honest, sometimes half-coherent.

✉️ Kotone [2:16 AM]: rehearsal done. my feet hate me. send comfort. ✉️ You [2:17 AM]: comfort is on the way. ETA: 0.2 seconds. imagine me patting your head. ✉️ Kotone [2:18 AM]: not the same. need actual headpats. ✉️ You [2:19 AM]: okay now you sound like a cat ✉️ Kotone [2:20 AM]: maybe i am

And sometimes, it was voice calls. Soft, late-night calls that felt like secrets.

You’d hear her breathing before she spoke, the faint rustle of sheets as she lay in her dorm bed. The city outside her window hummed faintly, and her voice — tired but alive — filled your ears.

“How’s Seoul?” you’d ask.

“Busy,” she’d say. “Loud. The coffee here’s good though.”

“You always talk about coffee.”

“Because it’s the only thing keeping me functioning.”

“Besides me,” you teased.

There’d be a pause, then a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Besides you.”

Some nights she’d tell you about rehearsals — how her groupmates teased her about being distracted lately. How she smiled more on set. How the fans noticed it, too. And you’d wonder if she told them why.

Other nights, you didn’t talk much. You’d just exist together. You, listening to the hum of her world; her, listening to the silence of yours.

“Are you still there?” she’d whisper sometimes.

“Yeah,” you’d murmur. “Still here.”

And she’d sigh — a small, content sound, like she was trying to memorize what it felt like to be found again.

Weeks turned into months. You got used to the time difference, the way she’d send photos of cloudy Seoul mornings or half-finished drinks with captions like “thinking of you, kinda.”

You’d reply with something stupid — a selfie of you holding her forgotten mug, or a shot of the riverbank at sunset. And every time, she’d say the same thing:

✉️ Kotone [7:12 PM]: stop sending me pictures that make me miss home :(

✉️ You [7:13 PM]: maybe that’s the point

✉️ Kotone [7:14 PM]: then you’re mean

✉️ You [7:14 PM]: you love it

✉️ Kotone [7:15 PM]: …yeah. i kinda do.

One night, during a call, she said softly, “You know, it feels different this time.”

You turned in your bed. “What does?”

“This. Us.”

Her voice was tired but warm — the kind of tired that comes after laughter. “Last time I left, it felt like goodbye. This time… it doesn’t.”

You swallowed, heart stuttering. “Maybe because it isn’t.”

There was a silence then. Not awkward, just heavy — the kind that holds everything words can’t carry.

“You’re gonna make me cry again,” she murmured.

“Then don’t,” you said gently. “Just… stay on the call.”

She did. For hours. Neither of you hung up. Sometimes you’d hear her breathing, slow and even, and you’d realize she’d fallen asleep. You didn’t end the call. You just listened.

Days passed like that — one message, one call at a time. The distance stayed the same. But somehow, it didn’t feel so far anymore.

And every time the phone rang, your heart would skip, because you knew it was her. Every time she laughed through the speaker, your room felt less empty.

It started as a ridiculous idea.

You’d been talking to Kotone daily — texts, calls, memes, late-night voice notes — the whole rhythm of being close, but still far. And yet, the thought kept creeping into your mind: what if you didn’t have to be far? What if you could see her, surprise her, and finally show her, without words that might fumble the moment, how much she meant to you?

The problem? You were in your hometown. Seoul was… a universe away. But then, you remembered Nien.

You’d never forgotten that chaotic, brilliant, unhinged personality on the other end of that one fancall. The way she had given you advice about Kotone, the way she had lectured you on trust, on small gestures, on paying attention to the heart behind the binder and the letters. Nien was your only link to Kotone’s world without it being suspicious.

So you contacted her again, with the help of a very rich mutual on Twitter — a generous, slightly wealthy fan who owed you a favor after a ridiculous chain of DMs. Somehow, that led to another fancall with Nien.

Nien: “WHO IS THIS HUMAN?!” she yelled the moment she appeared. Her hair was still chaotic, earbuds dangling, dorm sounds echoing in the background. “You again! You’re normal again, huh? Safe? Too safe! This is suspicious!”

You laughed nervously. “Nien… I need a favor.”

She froze mid-spin. “FAVOR. DANGER. THRILL. EXPLAIN.”

You explained everything, carefully, but quickly. How you and Kotone had… history. How you’d made mistakes. How you’d promised to be there, and how you finally wanted to show her you had always meant it. 

You explained the surprise you were planning, your only chance to make it unforgettable.

She stared at you for a moment, eyes narrowing, then her grin split her face in half. “OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH. I LOVE THIS. CHAOS. EMOTIONAL CHAOS. ROMANCE. OMG. THIS IS SO EXCITING.”

You held up your hands. “It’s not chaos. I’m trying to be organized for once.”

“LIES,” she said instantly, giggling. “Fine. Fine. I’m in. I will help you orchestrate the perfect surprise. No mistakes. No disasters. But… you owe me everything, okay? EVERYTHING. Dorm snacks, selfies, weird dances — EVERYTHING.”

There’s a long, quiet beat. Then she says, voice soft, “Wait.”

You blink. “Wait?”

She leans closer to the screen. “You said… letter.”

Your heart skips. “Yeah.”

Her eyes dart side to side, like she’s trying to connect invisible dots. “You said it was old — yellowed — and you gave it to her before she left.”

You nod slowly. “That’s right.”

She gasps — a sharp, audible sound. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

She covers her mouth with her hand, eyes wide. “No freaking way.”

“What?” you repeat, alarmed now.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” She laughs — a mix of disbelief and secondhand guilt. “That letter. The one she wouldn’t stop talking about for weeks. The one I accidentally… kind of… stole.”

“I didn’t know it was from you!” Nien waves her hands frantically, her face flushing with embarrassment. “I thought it was, like, a fan thing — or something she wrote to herself, I don’t know! She was so mad when she found out I took it.”

You can’t help it — you laugh. A real, tired, almost disbelieving laugh. The story she had told you. “You stole my letter.”

“Oh my god,” Nien groans, burying her face in her hands. “I stole your letter.”

The two of you laugh until the tension dissolves into something easier — something lighter.

Then she looks back at you, eyes soft but serious. “You really love her, don’t you?”

You nod. “Yeah. Always have.”

Nien smiles, but it’s the quiet kind — the knowing kind. “Then come here,” she says. “I’ll help. I’ll talk to the manager, I’ll figure something out. You just get on that plane.”

“Really? That easy?” You asked, almost incredulous. “Yeah, well, the writer, you know, the one that keeps calling me a lesbian, poor guy probably got lazy and couldn’t think of another way for you to get into contact and make this all happen, so, contrivances. Now, back from our 4th wall break for our regularly scheduled program.”

You don’t know how to thank her — so you just whisper, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she grins. “Just… make her happy. She deserves that.”

You nod again, and this time your voice doesn’t shake. “I will.”

For the next week, Nien became your clandestine partner-in-crime. She shared tips about the dorm layout, the best times to avoid security, how to leave little teasers without tipping Kotone off. She teased you relentlessly, but also sent updates on Kotone’s schedule — all anonymized so Kotone would never know you had infiltrated her life via her most chaotic ally.

Finally, the day arrived.

You stood near the dorm, heart hammering like a drum. The city smelled like rain on asphalt, a comforting scent that reminded you of the last time Kotone had been in your hometown. And now… you were here, in her city, breathing the same air, waiting for her to come out, unaware that you’d flown across the sea to see her.

You heard the familiar click of her shoes against the pavement before you saw her. That sound alone was enough to make your heart race — light, rhythmic, a melody you hadn’t realized you’d memorized.

Kotone appeared a second later — laughing at something one of her groupmates had said, phone in hand, her hair bouncing with every step. The evening sun caught in it, making her glow gold. The world seemed brighter, faster, lighter — and your stomach was a tangled knot of nerves.

You took one hesitant step forward. “Kotone,” you said softly.

She froze mid-step. The laughter died instantly. Her head turned toward you, eyes scanning your face like she couldn’t quite trust what she was seeing. Shock. Disbelief. Then — slowly, achingly — recognition.

“Wait…” she whispered. “No way.”

You swallowed hard, holding up a small envelope — a simple, creased note. The same kind of envelope you’d used for the letter all those years ago.

“I had help,” you managed, your voice trembling. “But I’m here. I just… I wanted to see you. In person. To see you smile — not through a screen, not in a video. Just you. Right here.”

For a moment, Kotone just stared — eyes wide, lips parted — like the world had stopped spinning. Then her hands flew to her mouth.

“You…” Her voice broke into a laugh, somewhere between disbelief and pure joy. “You’re here? You’re actually—”

Before you could even nod, she moved.

It wasn’t just a run — it was a blur. A sprint that turned into a jump, high and sudden, all momentum and emotion. You barely had time to brace yourself before she collided with you, arms thrown around your neck, legs nearly lifting off the ground.

You stumbled back a few steps, laughing helplessly as you caught her, the force of her joy nearly knocking you both over.

She buried her face into your shoulder, shaking with laughter and tears all at once. “You idiot!” she said between hiccupped breaths. “You absolute idiot! You actually came!”

“I told you I would,” you murmured into her hair, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt.

She leaned back, still clinging to you, eyes shining so bright it felt like the whole city had dimmed to make room for her. “You—how did you even—”

“I had help,” you said again, laughing through the adrenaline. “Nien. Twitter. Maybe fate, I don’t know.”

“Nien helped you?” she gasped, incredulous.

“Yeah. Turns out she’s better at logistics than she is at keeping secrets.”

Kotone laughed — loud and unrestrained, the kind of laugh you hadn’t heard in person for years. She swatted your shoulder lightly. “You’re insane,” she said, voice trembling with affection.

“Maybe,” you admitted. “But I’m your kind of insane, and I’ll be here, forever. Guess who’s your new neighbour?”

She stared at you for a heartbeat — and then, softly, her smile changed. Less laughter now, more something tender. Something full.

Her hands slipped from your shoulders to cup your face, thumbs brushing your jaw. “You really moved here,” she whispered.

You nodded. “Yeah. For good.”

Her eyes glistened, but this time, there were no tears. Just warmth. “You have no idea how much I wanted this.”

And before you could even think — before the world could start moving again — she leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t perfect — it was messy and breathless and half-laughing, the kind of kiss that tasted like years of missed chances and all the things you’d both been too afraid to say.

When you finally pulled apart, she was still close enough that her breath brushed your skin. “You’re ridiculous,” she whispered, smiling against your lips.

“I know.”

“I love that about you,” she said, and this time, she didn’t look away.

You laughed softly, forehead resting against hers. “Good,” you murmured. “Because I think I’ve always loved that about you too.”

She grinned, eyes bright and unguarded, and tugged you by the wrist toward the dorm entrance. “Come on,” she said, voice lilting with happiness. “You’re telling me everything.”

“Junghoon-ah,” Seoyeon raised her voice. “Help Hyerin and Kaede out with getting used to our rules, will you? They really wanna help organize with the Love Arcade Booth too! That can probably give us some more time to assist the Dreamers after lunchtime.”

—and a couple of new ones who joined their small but not so insignificant league of money-seeking, spending, sharing, and saving students who helped each other out.

“Affirmative, Seoyeon-sunbaenim!” Junghoon complied with a similar volume.

Alongside the neighboring clubs, Mad Money’s two new members already helped them out in their ongoing tasks for this big event. Just like the members before them, they’re also students who also used to feel like they didn't have a place to belong for a long time.

One of the Mad Newbies bowed to him within a swift second. “Good afternoon! Geum… Junghoon-sunbaenim, right?”

“That’s right. Nice meeting you, Jeong Hyerin-nim?” he asked her back. “The foodie?”

“You’re correct,” Hyerin answered energetically. “Quite the memory there, sunbaenim!”

Jeong Hyerin was a freshman at the age of seventeen, making her the youngest or maknae in the club and one of the youngest in the university this year since most freshmen enter at the age of eighteen or nineteen (in Korean age). Yet despite that rare trait, she seems to be the one of the more mature and independent members Mad Money has approved. When Seoyeon interviewed her, the club was amazed by her set of skills and talents. She also can cook like Yubin, a trait she presented when she first went to the club recruiters, and is a foodie herself, like Dahyun and Xinyu. Not to mention her passion for dancing stuns the girls, inspiring them to reach her level when she first demonstrated her flair.

“It's nice meeting you, Hyerin-ssi. I like your enthusiasm in joining the club.”

Junghoon looked beside an enthusiastic Hyerin, also greeting the next new member in anticipation. The only thing was, she was much more silent and quiet than they hoped.

He leaned slightly closer to Hyerin with his voice lowered. “Is she not much of a talker?”

“I’m not sure, sunbae,” she whispered back. “I haven’t gotten to know her that much.”

He approached her again. “Hi there, Yamada Kaede. Can you understand Korean well?”

“Annyeonghaseyo, sunbae,” Kaede retorted. “But why are you in the Mad Money Club?”

She was quite fluent in Korean, but the specificity of her question threw Junghoon off for a moment. Even Hyerin and Dahyun were weirded out by her blatant statement.

“Huh?” Junghoon’s anticipation dropped with his tone. “What do you mean, Kaede-ssi?”

“The club is mostly composed of girls,” she brought up. “At least from that sign I saw at the post. And somehow, you happened to be the only guy with them.” She tilted her head, staring at him with more apparent skepticism. “Why is that, sunbae?”

Meanwhile, Yamada Kaede is an exchange student from Japan. Born in the same year as Yubin, she’s also a sophomore. Yet, despite her appearance giving off the impression by most students that she's a cute and innocent otter who is mostly quiet, she might also just be one of the toughest and most brutally honest members of the club yet. Maybe even more than Seoyeon and Xinyu whenever they get strict or serious with others.

“Well, to answer your question, I'm not an official member of the club… Not anymore.”

His answer confused Hyerin, but it only made Kaede raise more suspicions about him.

“If you’re not a member of the club, then are you loaning money from them?”

“I’m not.” Balancing the line between humility and shame, he admits his place in the club to the freshman. What he believes that is. “Not anymore, but—”

“Don't talk nonsense, Junghoon,” they heard Dahyun’s voice, walking closer to them as she placed her hand on his shoulder. “You are always gonna be a part of our club!” She faced the new member with a wide smile. “And look, Kae-chan… Can I call you that?”

Kaede was intimidated by the senior’s sudden cordial and unbothered approach. In her ears, the term sounded like mocking, but the older woman bore no ill intentions. “No—”

“Okay, Kae-chan,” she continued. “Our Junghoon-ie here used to be our “assistant.” You may even call him an “errand boy,” because that’s what other folks called him back then. But he's become more than that. He’s one of us… And while I understand that you aren’t that close with everyone in our club, I don’t think you should be disrespectful to him.”

“No, it’s okay, noona…” Junghoon politely tapped on Dahyun’s shoulder. “I don’t blame her for asking me that.” He then gave Kaede a respectful look. “Now, Kaede-ssi—I’m not asking you to like me. And to continue my answer: I’m here because a sunbae didn’t just give me a gig, but she also gave me a chance to be more confident and leave my comfort zone, to know people also worthy of respect. Because we helped each other and treated each other as friends. And because you’re also going to be in the same club, I can only hope that we can get along. Even just for the festival.”

Dahyun looked at him with respect and admiration. It’s as if she’s an older sister who’s feeling proud towards a younger sibling for finally standing up for himself to someone. Hyerin looked at him in awe for de-escalating the tension. Silenced by his words, despite him not raising his voice, Kaede felt humbled for what she said and how she behaved.

She bowed at him. “Joesonghamnida, Geum Junghoon-sunbaenim.” She bowed again.

“It’s okay, Kaede-ssi,” Junghoon smiled. He raised both his hands, signaling her to stop bowing. “Don’t apologize too much. I’m just glad our misunderstanding is cleared up.”

While introductions were rough, the orientation went smoothly. In Junghoon’s mind, he thought of his life in the past year, comparing his encounter with the new club members. I’m guessing this is how Sohyun-noona felt about my behavior when she was still here. I hope she’s doing well out in France.

= = =

As Seoyeon had hoped for the new maknaes to help at the Love Arcade, Junghoon volunteered to help the Diamond Dreamers with their own booth for about an hour, which he was too astonished to admit was just as unique as theirs, since it also consisted of various minigames, thanks to the almost vintage video games owned by their leader, Kim Yooyeon. The club had also set up a jewelry making booth as a part of their collab, which required more assistance and materials, but less time, now that it had more than twelve members to look after it. However, their most ambitious planned game was a real-life egg hunt-type of game which they only call the Diamond Challenge.

“Thanks for the assist, Junghoon-ssi,” Nakyoung saluted him playfully with a lighthearted giggle. “You know, Tone-chan was right about you. You should’ve joined us. I bet you would’ve had just as much, if not more fun here.”

He couldn’t help but feel flattered. Maybe even a little more, but that’s not why he’s here. “Don’t mention it, sunbaenim… That’s why we partnered up for this festival, remember? Who knows what can happen? I’m not that limited to my old club.”

“Junghoon-ah!” Xinyu shouted from afar. “If you’re done flirting with our partners over there, help us out with carrying these boxes here, will ya?”

Forming a smile after hearing her remark, Nakyoung looked at Junghoon while they’re still sorting the Mad Money Club's now half-finished booth. “Ka, Junghoon-ssi… I can sort out the rest of these with Yubam and Chaeyeon. Seems like Xinyu-ssi really needs your help with your arcade.”

“Ne!” he nodded at her. “On my way, sunbae!” He rushed to Xinyu in the area of a dozen more unsorted boxes.

“Took you long enough,” she joked. “How was your little chat with Nakyoung?”

“I wasn’t flirting with—” He assured her. He didn't know why. Must be a force of habit.

“I was kidding,” she told him with a straight face. “You think too lowly of yourself. I don't care whatever girl you talk to.”

“It’s not that.” He couldn't help but interject with a nervous chuckle. “It’s just not the case.” Xinyu turned around and took a few steps closer. This is out of nowhere.

Every time they get closer. Every interaction they’ve had. It didn't seem appropriate, just looking at her directly. Her face. Her eyes. Her lips. Seolma. It’s just not possible. She’s beautiful… There’s no doubt about that observation. Almost everyone in this college is heads over heels for her, but no… She’s a campus star… and Sohyun…

“You handled orienting Kaede pretty well, huh,” she nudged his shoulder. “My God, she would’ve looked much scarier if she didn’t look like an adorable otter. That girl is gonna need more of our initiation rituals... Hyerin seems to trust you, so she doesn’t need that. Good job on meeting both of them.”

Junghoon laughed. “Thanks. It’s normal for her to feel that way, so it’s not hard for me to deal with it now. I mean, it’s happened before… Gotta learn from it and live with it.”

His words brought some rather unpleasant impressions to her, making her look down in guilt. It was forever ago, but she definitely couldn't forget how she perceived him when they first met. Such memories of her past self left her with a bad aftertaste. “Right…”

She tried to raise one of the heavier boxes, to no avail. “Oh, let me take that box. It looks heavy.” He took the box from her hands, lifting it from the concrete and pivoting it onto his chest. “Woah, this is heavy,” he chortled, but maintained balance by carrying the box and walking towards the Love Arcade tent.

Xinyu looked at him, uncertain. Concerned. Couldn't even let her hands go off his arms as they flexed under the weight of the boxed materials. “Are you sure? I can handle it—”

“Gwaenchanayo, noona! I can handle it.” He continued to laugh as he walked away from her on his way to the booth. While he could handle the box and balance himself, his walk made him appear like he’s an emperor penguin, waddling across the polar ice caps. The scenario went into Xinyu’s mind that moment, prompting her to laugh by herself before taking another look at Junghoon from afar as he entered their booth tent.

“Thank you, Junghoon-ah…” she hollered to him. “Be careful on your way out!”

At the start of May, Mad Money and Diamond Dreamers partnered up for the upcoming University Festival. Although most of them were not familiar with each other before this campus-wide experience, this event becomes the ultimate opportunity for them to get to be acquainted with one another, among other students, throughout the entire month.

Five of the newer faces from the Diamond Dreamers whom Junghoon had met during the festival collab were its current members: Kim Yooyeon, Koma Mayu, Kim Nakyoung, Kim Chaeyeon, and Lee Jiwoo. Though, with Junghoon being himself, it took a little bit more time for his introverted self to get used to knowing them outside their projects and for that, he often hangs out with one member during their lunch break in the meantime, his close friend: Kamimoto Kotone.

On the first Friday of the month, these two close friends had lunch at a sandwich booth on campus. Taking a seat on a table near the stall, Kotone munched already halfway into her bulgogi sandwich. On the seat in front of her, Junghoon hasn’t touched his gilgeori sandwich in the past two minutes, as his eyes are off somewhere in the far distance. He spotted some members of the Mad Money Club and Diamond Dreamers walking near the fountain. Seems they’re already getting to know each other, he thought. Among the joint clubs, his eyes landed on her. She saw him from his spot. Out of panic, he lowered his head to make it look like he’s bowing to them from a distance. Unable to notice that Dahyun, Chaeyeon, Jiwoo, and Yubin were also bowing to him, he could feel and hear his heartbeat.

Noticing his strange movement, Kotone shook her head. “Are you gonna eat that or what?”

Junghoon looked at his sandwich. “Oh… Right.” He took a big bite of his meal.

“For a second, I thought you’re gonna give me the rest of it,” she snickered.

“Not a chance,” he groaned. “You’re already enjoying your bulgogi toast.”

“Yeah, but I’m almost done with it, you know. I was eating it as any normal person would, unlike someone who’s clearly occupied with doing absolutely nothing.”

“Can’t a guy eat at his own pace?” he whined.

“Says the one who usually eats his meal the fastest,” she retorted. “And that doesn’t change anything just because you’re trying to get on a diet... What’s with you today?”

“I was just thinking about something, that’s all.” He took another, medium-sized bite.

“Hmm, of course you are…” She smirks. “I know that look.”

Junghoon continued to chew before swallowing his bite. “What are you talking about? I’m just eating right now. What other look do I have aside from eating my sandwich?”

“Oh, you know. It's the ‘when you're slowly falling for someone’ kind of look.”

Junghoon chuckled, though it came off as a bit forced. “Falling for who? This sandwich? I mean, it is pretty good, I gotta say. The way they mixed the sauces really complements the crunchiness of the bread and the patty… Wow.”

“No, pabo!” she scolded him. “Not that. Who are you hanging out the most in your thrifty little club? That one. Who you were staring at instead of eating your sandwich.”

“Seoyeon-sunbaenim? Dahyun-noona? Yubin-ssi? Be more specific.”

“Yah! You can’t be serious right now. Stop pretending like she doesn't exist.”

Junghoon remained dodgy. “Who doesn’t exist?” It’s just not working for Tone.

“Xinyu-unnie!” she exclaimed. “It’s like whenever you talk about your club to us, you keep on avoiding any mentions of her when in fact, we often see you walking right next to her, almost every single time!”

“But didn’t I already tell you guys already about—”

“Nien-unnie? Of course, I still remember that. She was your first crush here. Your first date, which, by the way, we helped you prepare for.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “And? Why wasn’t she the name you mentioned.”

She crossed her arms. “I’m just not buying it.”

“I’m not selling you anything.” To Kotone’s ears, Junghoon’s voice started to sound more defensive the more he talked. “I’m just saying that I like Nien and you didn’t even believe or consider that when I told you about her when I was still getting used to the club.”

“I mean, I did believe it. Months ago… There was some chemistry between you two. You were laughing at her jokes or stare at that girl like she’s sparkling whenever we hung out together, but that was like what? Last semester? That infatuation is long gone.”

“So, why do you think anything’s changed after that?” he questioned her straight. “We made up even after our supposed first date happened.”

“Geunyang…” she starts. “Let’s just say that the way you interacted with Nien ended up becoming like anybody else’s…”

“Like what?”

“You’re just casual. Maybe even more platonic than before. I just don’t feel that spark. And oh, yeah… She's dating someone else, and you're not bothered by it that much.” She made it sound as if she had a gotcha moment on him. He continued to take another bite.

“And that’s a bad thing? It feels more like you’re reading too much into us.”

“No, no, of course not. It’s great that you’re becoming friends with all of your clubmates. You’ve come a long way, Jung-ah,” she assures him. “But because your attention shifted into someone else, I don’t need you to play dumb just to realize who I’m talking about.”

He knew Kotone was right. There was no point in beating around the bush. There was no point in denying it. Especially not to one of his closest friends. He sighed in defeat. She snickered.

“You know I can’t…” his voice slowly contrasts her comic tone. “It can’t happen. She and… They were together for more than two years. And I was with them—supporting them while they were together and even after! The fact that I’m even considering it… Doesn't sit right with me.”

Oh… Tone realized what he’s been so hesitant about. But she wasn't just gonna give up.

“Sohyun-sunbaenim has been far away from here for a while now. They broke up a long time ago and that’s a fact you can’t deny. Heck, you didn’t even like Xinyu-unnie when they were still together! Besides, didn’t Sohyun-sunbaenim just reconnect with y’all? Even after the breakup.”

“But… I can’t.” He then looks up to Tone, seeking to reason with her eye to eye. “Even if we don’t take Sohyun-noona into the equation, Xinyu-noona and I are too different to be—you know. It just doesn’t make sense. It’s messed up to think about, even.”

“Different, how? MBTIs? Who cares!”

“What’s that?”

“Personalities? Unnie’s an E. You’re an I. She’s most likely a T and you’re a definite F.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he nodded, getting her point. “But I don’t really care about those.”

“How about body proportions?” she adds. “That one must’ve crossed your mind a lot.”

“Maybe,” he considers that one, making his friend more infuriated. “We are different.”

“So effing what?” she pointed her finger at him. “That shouldn’t bother you either!”

“Well, you’re the one who brought it up. I’m just saying you have a point, Tone-yah.”

“I’m just testing you. How you see yourselves because of your differences,” she justified.

“Like it matters,” he shrugged off. “We’re just different through and through. Even if you didn’t mention the personality tests and our physique types, it wouldn’t matter either. For once, I’m like two years younger than her.”

She let out a snicker, wondering how could something so little bother him? “Ever seen Pretty Noona Who Treats Me to Meals? Dude… that’s like the ultimate answer to your argument. The leads were like five to six years apart! Some people have much younger or older partners.”

“She’s into women, you know that,” he shot Tone’s argument with another misgiving. “It would be pretty unnie who treats me to meals.”

“Oh, tsk, tsk, tsk… You narrow-minded kid,” she raises her index finger, wagging it to tease and confound him. “I bet you didn't know about her relationships when she was still a freshman. Before Sohyun-sunbaenim. Or non-relationships for that matter.”

Of course he didn't. He’s not one to know so much about others’ personal lives outside his close circle and out of the Mad Money Club, Xinyu has been the exception. “Huh?”

“That's right… I know for a fact that Xinyu-unnie doesn’t care about who she likes based on whether they're a man or a woman. Dude, if that's still not clear enough for you—she goes ‘both ways.’ That’s not an issue to her. Nor should it to you... It’s just my opinion, Junghoon-ah, but what others think shouldn’t ever stop you from having feelings for someone. Especially if you have done nothing but good to her.”

He turns somewhere else. “Well, whatever you say, I don’t think they’d agree with that.”

“Who’s they? Where in the--? What the hell are you looking at?”

Squinting her eyes, Kotone followed Junghoon's gaze. A weird, wide veil through a blank space. A window through his perspective. Voices and texts. She didn't know how he sees this, this other wall through thin air, but their presence irked her as they simply radiate the scenarios of other worlds, filled with infinite what ifs and what could’ve been. It's all of their dreams, nightmares, comforts, and insecurities personified. It's an odd anomaly and out of this realm. Now, it's starting to take them out of their immersion. “The hell?” Kotone latched her hands on its invisible handles from each side. “Don't mind those…”

“I know, it’s weird to think this way… But I meant it about us being in different worlds.”

The woman shoved the view away from them, never wanting to speak of it again. “Seriously? Don't mind them... This ain't their life, Jung... This is ours, yours to deal with… How do you really feel about Xinyu-unnie? You don't have to tell me everything.”

“But she already knows!” Junghoon bursts those words out of nowhere, startling Tone. Out of embarrassment, Junghoon immediately covers his own mouth, before taking a quick look around the campus. Thankfully, the other students either only rolled their eyes or laughed off at his reaction, before minding their own business. Tone, however, stares at him in disbelief for a second, but her smile grows even more at the realization.

“You mean, you confessed to her?” she’s sensing his butterflies. “Omo, omo… When?”

“I don’t know if she still wants to remember it, but it was a week ago. Even then, I think she just pretended like she never heard me or thought I made a deadpan joke. I mean it would’ve just been more awkward if either of us brought it up again.”

= = = = =

It was only a whole semester. About only half a year after Xinyu's heart was shattered by Sohyun’s departure for France. It was still a tough time to reminisce for all of them, but they knew that things had to go on. That was their collective promise for each other.

And yet, Junghoon wondered: what has he been doing with Xinyu that was more than enough to make him start feeling things beyond their formalities? Beyond friendship?

His recent encounters and his hair-scratching conversations only made him rewind throughout the span of the second, third, and fourth days of the Seoul State Festival.

It usually starts with, “Junghoon-ah…” followed by a request. “Can you help me wi—”

“Ne!” No questions asked, the young man would do her requests. “On my way, noona.” It's all part of the production, after all. If not, then it's definitely for the club.

Nothing much, if he was being honest. Junghoon this. Noona or sunbae that. They acted professional, weeks before they became more casual in the months that followed. It was a closeness similar to him with the rest of the Mad Money Club. Before Kaede entered their ranks, anyway. It was like the new member had absorbed all of Xinyu's negative impressions of him before he could've talked her down to a more respectful level.

Junghoon's job as Xinyu's assistant wasn't confined to a single role, as he expected.

Thanks to his part-time job at a restaurant, he was able to buy doughnuts and some other snacks for the cast and crew of their production every morning or afternoon. They were leftovers from previous nights, so instead of letting his coworkers unnecessary throw it, he packed a lot before heading home, enough for himself, his halmeoni, and his friends.

“You're a lifesaver, Junghoon-ie. Gomawo!” Daeho patted him on his back, as he took a piece of honey-glazed ring from the box, immediately gnawing into it while his other hand returned its grip on his hair, gently massaging himself. “So… Good.”

It wasn't a requirement, but seeing his sunbaes nourished or at least more sober during their meetings only warmed his heart before their day would start.

The thespian’s cast and his fellow crewmates would welcome him with fillings of praise and sprinkles of gratitude for his consistent gestures, but he didn't want himself to be a mere freeloader or another suck-up. He wanted to be more involved, and receive more constructive criticism if he had to, and get results done by the end of their production.

Even at the days of those plays, he had to pay attention, ensuring things went smoothly. But when he's simply observing things fold into place. The audience cheered and wept. For Junghoon, this whole cycle went for two productions over the span of six months.

“You did well, sunbae.”

But, in spite of his studies and his outside work, this one never felt like a routine.

“I know…” Xinyu even flipped her hair, bearing resemblance to a star in a shampoo commercial, it reminded him of the times she's tested her costumes for the stage, right before shaking it off his head. Of course, Junghoon laughed her flaunt off. But deep down, Xinyu too wanted this interaction to be more than just jokes, which might've caused another misunderstanding between them. “But—umm—give yourself some credit, too, Junghoon-ah. You basically carried half the production team on your shoulders this time.”

“Come on, noona. That's not true.”

She shook her head. “I beg to differ. If you don't believe me, just feel free to ask Hwihyeon-ie or Yuki-chan. Or the slackers who barely showed up on time, unless you brought everyone snacks.”

“Well, I guess I'll just take their words. And I'm sure the others had a good reason—”

With every question, her face inched closer to his, forcing him to take a step back. “You’re speaking on their behalf, too? I mean, have you even been focusing on your studies? Attending classes? Are you skipping classes?”

He laughed. “I have and I am, noona. Don't need to worry about that.”

“All right…” she changed her voice to a more nonchalant tone. “I'm just saying it's the best time to drop from this club. Before I make the announcement to everyone else.”

“Why?” Even with his straight face, curiosity and uncertainty pushed each other within his mind. She's always liked keeping surprises to him. “What's gonna happen?”

“I'll be stepping down as an actress.”

“What?” At that moment, panic set in within his system, as the latter emotion just took control over him. “Why? Is it because I'm doing a bad job, sunbae? I mean, if you really want, I can drop out—”

“Paboyah… I'm just dropping out of the cast,” she clarified with a soft fist thrown into his shoulder, slightly hissing at him. “I’ll be in production!”

He scratched his head, embarrassed and almost lightheaded at his now vanishing panic. He couldn't believe he got himself fooled by a mere tease. “Oh… Right.” But what's new?

Xinyu let out a snicker, tilting her head as she leaned and examined him closer. Her smile evoked appreciation. “You're bummed out that I'm leaving?”

“I mean, who wouldn't be? You're a star in your stages.”

“I'm not the only star. We're all st—”

“That’s true, but you’re also definitely a highlight,” he justified his claim. “The empty seats get filled up on stages you're a part of, no offense to my other sunbaes.”

Xinyu continued to chuckle, unable to express the surprises of flattery from him. “Yah. Geum Junghoon, are you supposed to be my assistant, or my fan?”

“Aren't assistants automatically fans in some way? Like with idols and their managers?”

“So you're my manager now, huh? You also think I'm fit to be an idol?”

“Hmm… I wouldn't say no to that. You could be a part of the cheerleader club or be an MC. I'm sure you'd do well.”

“You really are getting good at your job. You might as well be my publicist.”

“For that job, you'll actually have to pay me.”

“Well, too bad ‘cause I'm joining you with the production team.” She stuck her tongue out.

He chuckled at her teasing, shaking his head. “I don't see that as a bad thing, though.”

“Hmmm… I thought you'd be more scared, now that we get to hang around more often, but I stand corrected. Maybe I'll stick around more often until you get tired of me.”

Junghoon happened to be there. He was mostly there. During Xinyu’s busiest, hardest weeks. Throughout her most grandiose successes and most festive celebrations. It was just hanging out.

On the brighter side, things had softened up between them, compared to months ago. Their ice cold and chilling tensions have melted like ice under the summer heat. They blossomed along with the flowers of spring.

And then one day, their meetings went outside their club. Outside Room 238. Outside the auditorium. Xinyu just hit him up, merely asking for a friend and companion to be with and well, he just accepted. But there was nothing more. Nothing in return.

Sometimes, she'd ask, “Are you free after class?” or “Are you free this weekend?”

They would wander the town of Keuri-go and some of its nearest neighborhoods. From her words, “I guess… I just wanted to go somewhere new… Without some nosybodies.”

“Try this, Junghoon-ah.” They would go to small diners, cafés, and newer restaurants. None of the mainstream stuff usually found around their campus. There was no doubt about her gourmet palate. They came off as a couple to some, but she'd often come up with many labels, most of which were true. “Dongsaeng. Chingu. Roomie. Buddie.”

“Come on, Junghoon. Don't be shy. It's my treat today, arasseo?” she kept chewing, focused on the meals like it's her craft. She's taking food seriously.

But what everyone else thought didn't matter. The fact was, they went for delightful and scrumptious cuisines. She rarely realized whenever her cheeks were puffed as her mouth was filled with flaming meat or whenever she's making crunching noises with fresh vegetables. It was definitely a sight to behold. Kyeopta, Junghoon pondered. A simple iced tea made his experience more refreshing while she sipped her pink juice, something she claimed tasted far better than the one she first ordered at the more popular café.

He never knew there was someone else as passionate in eating as he was. Though, she was more eloquent in doing it, weirdly enough. “All right... Jal meokgeotseumnida.”

“You think Soda will like this?” At shops and malls, they would buy surprise gifts or supplies for their clubmates on their birthdays or some significant achievement.

He looked at the music box with a proud smile. “Mmm-hmm… I think she'll love it.”

“Good pick. I guess I'll, ummm, I'll be needing your advice on Yubam’s birthday.”

His assumption has always been, “I thought all of you girls are close.” and rightfully so.

“We are.” She even felt a little flustered to confess about it. “It's just, you two joined the club in the same month. She felt a little closer to you, but it's not like a competition.”

“Okay, okay,” he snickered. “I'll be glad to help out, noona.”

He was originally her underling, but more than that, they became friends. No matter the occasion, he made time for her… Whether she needed his assistance. Or his company.

Sometimes, walks in the park were enough to blow all the worries off her. Junghoon himself was never the nosy one, but it was during those moments where he'd hear more from the woman.

“I wish I could just buy this park, you know?” she mumbled through the breeze.

He craned his head to the side, staring at the back of her shining hair. “Why is that?”

“Geunyang,” she blurted, brushing her hand through the bushes they're now crossing.

“Well…” He knew there was more to her thought. “Even if you do have the money to do that, lots of locals still visit this place, so I'm not even sure if that's a good idea.”

“I didn't say I'd take it away from them,” she defended herself with a snortle, though her mind wasn't as calm as she appeared.”

“What're you going to do with it, then? If you somehow do buy this park?”

“Maintain it. The way it is now.”

“So you won't be open to renovating it or expanding it?”

“I don't actually mean I'm gonna buy it someday… You took it way too seriously.”

“Oh… Well, I thought it was an interesting thought…”

She exhaled through her nose, beaming. “I just… I don't know. Sometimes I get irritated, and annoyed, when things change all of the sudden. I know, someday, this park won't be the same anymore. I don't know if I even like to think that happening.” Aside from those two words, she kept other feelings inside her. Worried. Afraid.

Junghoon could only sigh, but he had also given himself a similar answer a while back.

“Things will always change, noona… No matter how much power, money, and influence we may have, there's some things we'll just have to live with… Things out of our control. Out of our favor.”

She's heard of that gloomy outlook countless times from different people she respected or hated. Quite annoyingly so, even if it's true. “And… How do you deal with something like that? Losing something you’ve treasured for years? Losing a safe space like this?”

“I think we just have to adapt and do what we can… It can and will hurt, but maybe we can find better opportunities elsewhere. Maybe this park will remain a park. Maybe it won't… I believe we shouldn't just limit our safe spaces to just one place, or rely on a person we may not have a chance with. We can set our minds to it, if we have to.”

The gist of it was admittedly cliché, but his delivery was softening her heart. Yet, she was still unsatisfied with his insight. She wanted to hear more from him. “But what if I don't want any of those new opportunities? What if I wanna stay with my old treasure?”

“Then like I said, you're still setting your mind into it. Sometimes, stubbornness can be a good asset, but it shouldn't come at the cost of our sanity. Just like with our obsessions… Nothing good comes out of it the longer it sits out.”

Silence followed afterwards. Xinyu felt something constricting there. “Plus… It’s not too bad to venture out and look for something or someone new,” he continued. “I mean, if you're careful enough, what more can you lose? If it's not for you, just move on.”

She simply tilted her head, contemplating his sentiment with delighted curiosity. “Touché… That’s pretty mature.” She wouldn't find this park if she didn't explore it.

He crossed his arms, unsure on whether to play along or take her compliment at face value. “Did you assume that I'm otherwise? Is it because I'm younger?”

“Aniya…” Despite her smirk, she wasn't in the mood to tease. “It was just unexpected... It was nice to hear your perspective.”

By the end of most of those days, he saw her on her way home. On the same stealth car. “It was really nice hanging out with you, Junghoon-ah… Take care of yourself, alright?”

But looking back, perhaps he shouldn't have done all those things. Not to that extent.

Dugeun. Maybe that was the first time. The first few times. Dugeun. The moment she got closer and more comfortable, and by that, from a physical sense. Without a boundary that kept each other's guards up.

Embedded to his conscience, he kept going because of a promise he accepted almost a year ago. A promise that he still never broke, despite her already ended relationship.

And yet, even as Sohyun has returned in their lives, he continued wondering, has he outgrown that promise? Should he? Wouldn't that be a great betrayal of her trust?

With each time Xinyu got closer, she drew her breath close to his ears. His nose caught a few variations of her perfume, growing stronger and warmer as their distance closed. Strangely enough, even their little shoulder bumps and her teasing pinches sent shivers through his spine in the midst of the warm spring. Whenever she entered his field of vision, her eyes appeared like they're prowling for his presence, just for someone to tease or talk to. Beside and around Xinyu, uneasiness crept in as an aftertaste to every moment of bliss that made his system flutter. It was the last feeling he was supposed to feel for her, slowly burying whatever he truly felt for this woman through work.

Why am I paying attention to all of these? This has to be one-sided. It's the only thing that makes sense. One-sided things should go away pretty soon.

But one can't simply alter the rhythm of their heartbeat. It was a matter of time until Junghoon's affection started to manifest beyond his heart.

“Are you sure you guys want me there?”

“Don’t worry about them, Junghoon-ah,” Xinyu tried to persuade Junghoon. “You’ve worked with them before. Ever since you invited them to the party at our room, they wanted to get closer with you. And don’t forget, you’ve been a great help to us.”

It was after the success of the Thespians’ play. On a Thursday night, Junghoon attended the afterparty with the cast and his fellow crew, which he was a part of, despite being a recent addition as Xinyu’s assistant. No one was drunk enough to do something fun and stupid, but they were definitely bold enough to play a game of truth or dare while they were still sober enough to be embarrassed about the things they were asking or doing that night. After minutes and minutes of spinning the bottle, its neck finally points to Xinyu. Her fellow cast expressed their intrigue, although a smirk formed around her lips, hoping to one-up them.

“What’s it gonna be, Xinyu-yah?” Yuki anticipated. “You don’t seem to be surprised.”

“I’m looking forward to it, actually,” she quipped.

“Ooooh, that means you’re looking forward to some dares,” Hwihyeon teased.

“Dares are getting too stale. Hasn’t our performance been enough for y’all?” she flaunted, steering the game's direction out of their favor. “Our original production was the talk of the town!”

“Yeah, but are you sure you don’t wanna take someone home tonight? Pretty sure there are plenty of hot faces at the bars nearby. We can start here!” Yuko questioned. “And it's strange that you used to be the one who kept on pulling us outdoors so we could ‘mingle’ with some gals and fellas back in freshman year.”

“Exactly!” Daeho chimed in with his deep and inquisitive voice. “It seems you’ve gone celibate ever since you’re single again.”

“No, I haven’t!” she shot back at them with a defensive tone, which only amused them. “It’s just we have the next Festival Week for that, I’m in no rush, unlike you nymphs— and Daeho… Tonight, I want some good old ounce of truth, so shoot your shots.”

 “Chill out, girl,” Hwihyeon chuckled at her brief outburst. “Okay… Truth it is, gals…”

An idea lit up their director, Jihye. Unsurprisingly, it happened once her eyes met yours. “I got it. Would you be willing to go out with your assistant?”

He felt his heart racing. He didn't know why, but such a question keeps him on edge, even if he’s not the one to answer it. Looking at Xinyu, he saw her with a teasing smile.

“Hmm, he’s a bit young,” she retorts before looking at him with a soft smile. Yet to him, it feels somewhat condescending, not that it matters. “No offense, Junghoon-ah.”

A wide smile formed on Junghoon’s face. A barricade to shield his crumbling heart. “None taken, noona,” he responded.

“As if that stopped you from seeing people younger than you two years ago,” Hwihyeon sharply counters her friend’s confident remarks.

“They were like, what? Months, a year younger than me? And plus, rarely of those flings were guys. You don’t really find ‘em around. Ones who are mature enough for my taste.”

He slowly breathed through his nose, easing the ensuing pandemonium within himself.

“That doesn’t disprove her point, unnie,” Jihye joined the banter, gaining chuckles from Hwihyeon and Kangdae.

“Whatever,” Xinyu tutted. Everyone’s been ganging up on her. “The point is, he already has a crush of his own.” Except for the man himself. “Isn’t that right, Junghoon-ah?”

The pressure of everyone else around him versus his own thoughts and his sunbae’s domineering words. “Yeah, I guess. Xinyu-sunbae’s not entirely wrong, yeorobun.”

“See?” she grinned, raising her eyebrow at her fellow thespians; even they’re fooled.

“That’s a bummer. We thought there’d be something between you two.”

Exiting the restaurant, the two take a walk across the street outside their campus after the cast and crew had parted ways with wide smiles and a few crumbs of laughter that they’ve left at the place in the past two hours and a half. Silence ensued between them.

Even with his introversion, she felt something wasn't right with him. Considering the many word-filled walks they've taken in the last several months. “What’s the matter?”

Usually, he would clench his fist to bear the loud thumps of his heart, but now, he has simply lost the energy to do a simple thing. “Um… About what they asked you earlier.”

“That silly little goof?” she chuckled, trying to lighten up his gloomy mood. “What about it? I was just playing around. Don’t take what I said too seriously.”

“About you dating younger people?” he clarified.

“I think I meant that,” she admitted. “In my experience, it’s not easy to find someone dependable if they are not mature enough to respect someone’s space or on the other hand, not ready enough to open up. Some of them weren’t ready for a relationship, so they just ended up as fun flings. But hey, that doesn’t mean I was talking about you…”

He felt his heart getting lighter, but not enough to ease his sense of disquietude. “Oh.”

“You’re a good man, Junghoon-ah. I couldn’t care less who you’re into. If it’s still Nien or someone else, they’d be lucky to have you.” She giggled, contrasting his quiet and somber demeanor. “And by the way, are you that curious about my dating life?”

“I’m not,” he objected, letting out a nervous laugh. “I’m just generally curious.”

“I didn’t wanna get you into our goofs too much,” she expounded. “You should know by now, they can be a bit nosy when it comes to knowing other people’s tea at times, which I’m more or less tolerant with, but I didn’t know if you’d feel the same way about them.”

“Well…” His heart began to slow down. “I thought they were fun to listen to.”

She tried to take it into a more humorous direction. “Even if they just, out of nowhere, dragged you as the direct object of the question meant for me? That’s weird, especially from you. Did you enjoy it when it was my turn?”

“Not necessarily, but… I don’t think they were wrong, when they said it…”

“Yah,” she tilted her head to the side. “Don’t tell me you’re actually considering what they said… They were goofing around, so I played along with them. I even gave you a look, remember?”

And at that moment, his rhythm became faster once more. “I’m not!” he hollered out suddenly. “I just… I didn’t know how to feel about you. Mianhaeyo. This is sudden…”

Her mischievous smile slowly dropped. “Junghoon-ah…” she muttered, clueless what to say next. “Do… Do you really… You're kidding, right?”

Cold air flared through his nose, akin to a sick bull. “I wish I was…”

Her chest began to flutter. “What?” Maybe out of fear or surprise. She couldn't tell.

Giving himself a test, Junghoon took a step forward. Closer. The thumping grew. If it was a stranger she would have run. The woman's eyes widened.

Her wits were silenced by his spurt of boldness. Startled by her own surprise, he took a step backwards. That wasn't something he was willing to cross, even if his inner self was yearning to do so.

“You don’t have to say anything, noona,” he interjected, discouraged by her surprise.

A second of struggle to catch her own breath, she gulped in silence and cleared her throat, straightening her posture.

“Then,” she took a breath. “Let’s pretend you didn’t say anything tonight, arasseo?”

“Ne,” he complied, keeping himself calmer in front of her. From a distance, he notices the headlamp that is slowly approaching the road ahead of them. “Mister Yi is here.”

Her eyes widened, both her brows now raising with fury. “What? You called him?”

He raised his hands, his heartbeat accelerated due a different, more primal emotion. “Well, he asked for my number, and he called me. What was I supposed to do?”

“Why?” she groaned, holding in her annoyance at him. “You could’ve said no, or lied!”

“I can’t say no to your bodyguard,” he argued back, his pitch slightly elevating in panic.

“Why not?” She slowly walked closer to him. “You're scared of him? More than me?”

He took a step back. “I’m not sca—” Her question caught him off-guard, leaving him intimidated and confused at the same time. “He said it’s for your safety, sunbaenim.”

“You’re with me!” she exclaimed. “Is that not enough? You don’t think you’re trustworthy enough… We’re friends, Junghoon-ah.”

“It’s because of words like that…” he whispered. She didn’t hear, but his face got to her, likening a disheartened pup. In turn, her heartbeat also amplified in pace and volume.

“Don’t take that the wrong way!” she immediately added with a yelp before he could’ve opened his mouth, forceful to dismiss their bewildering conversation just as the stealth car was done parking right next to the curb in front of them. “I’ll deal with this.”

“Miss Zhou,” they heard the bodyguard’s hoarse yet respectful call, having exited the vehicle with his hands clasped. “It’s getting late.”

Xinyu and Junghoon walked to him. “Mr. Yi. Are my parents at the penthouse?”

“Not yet, but based on their schedule for this week, they will pay a visit tonight.”

“I told you I’m staying at a friend’s dorm,” she tried not to sound like she's whining.

“That’s not what your friends have said,” he shot back. “And Miss Park isn’t here—”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m still with Sohyun or not. That was her choice,” she snapped. For a second, Junghoon's chest tightened along as his breath shortened. “And isn’t this why I went to college? What happened to my four years of individuality, ahjussi?”

“I, umm,” he hesitated. “I understand why you're angry, but I believe you should take that to your parents, Miss Zhou. I'm only doing this for your safety… I always have.”

Looking at her suppressed irritation, Junghoon looked down on the concrete in guilt, not seeing Mr. Yi and Xinyu turning their heads at him. “I’m sorry, noona.”

“It’s fine.” She looked back at him with sorrow, just as guilty and lost due to the way she reacted at him earlier. “Just… Go home, Junghoon-ah. I can take it from here.”

They drove off into the darkness, Junghoon walked back home alone, humiliated by his own cowardice and hesitation for what transpired between him and Xinyu. Tonight, the cold spring breeze doesn’t feel as soothing as it used to be.

= = = = =

Tone’s smile shifted into a frown real quick. “You idiot! Pabo! You just fumbled your big chance, man. Come on. You either confessed or you didn’t. There’s no joking from you.”

Her phrasing simply irritated him. “What do you mean I fumbled my chance? I avoided a disaster! I know it’s a stupid thing to say, but I don’t wanna ruin anything we’ve built as friends. Besides, she and Sohyun-noona have reconnected lately, so… That’s that.”

Both Kotone’ enthusiasm and exasperation dropped. She did not expect the last sentence. “They did? Sohyun-sunbaenim is back?”

“No, not really. She’s still studying in Europe,” he clarifies. “But umm, yeah, she kept in touch with everyone from the club. Even me. And I'm grateful that it finally happened.”

“Does that mean they’re—?”

“I don’t know. I don't wanna know. That’s not my business,” Junghoon dismissed her in an instant, knowing well what her next words were gonna be. It’d be better if they were.

Kotone looked at him, more worried. Damn, that confession must’ve hurt him real bad.

“Even if there was no one else in her mind, I’ve known her long enough to know that she would rather be with someone who makes a move on her like a normal person. Someone who is more upfront and straightforward about their feelings.”

Tone sighed. “Maybe things have changed. Some people feel things they’ve never felt before. That’s normal. Xinyu-unnie is no exception to that change. Look, I know you might expect me to tell you to move on or even give you hope, but I can’t do either of those… Confess or don’t confess. I just don’t want my friend to not do something and regret it.” She reaches her hand to pat him softly on the back, caressing it in seconds.

Junghoon pondered in silence, unable to come up with any logical or witty rebuttal at his friend’s remark. Kotone shook her head and chuckled. But before she could’ve told him another word, someone from the Mad Money Club walked past them as her round eyes grew in enthusiasm having seen such familiar faces.

“Oh, it’s you guys,” Hyerin greeted each of them with a bow. “Hi, Junghoon-sunbaenim and Kotone-sunbaenim! Do you mind if I just finish my tteokbokki beside you guys?”

“No problem.” Junghoon felt a sense of relief by Hyerin’s arrival, oddly enough, as someone they’ve only known recently interrupted the very talk he was hoping would have ended. “Come sit with us, Hyerin-ssi.”

“Kamsahamnida!” She sat on the chair in front of Junghoon and Kotone. Now the two don’t know what else to talk about while their hoobae munches on some spicy rice cake while it’s steaming warm.

“What were you guys talking about?” Hyerin wondered. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Junghoon’s got a big crush on your club.” Still, Kotone didn’t hesitate to tease him.

“Tone-yah!” Junghoon mouthed, though his face is suppressing an outburst of anger in front of his hoobae. “Why would you..?” He could only let out an audible groan.

Hyerin became intrigued by their banter, even though Kotone didn't reveal any names. “Who is it, sunbae? Is it Nien-sunbaenim?”

“It’s… Not that important,” he delivered with an awkward smile. “We should head back to the others. Is fifteen minutes good with you, Hyerin-ssi?”

“Ne, sunbaenim!” Hyerin complied. “That’s enough time for me to finish this, actually.”

“Don’t worry,” Kotone patted Hyerin in the back. “You’ll find out soon enough, Hyerin-ssi. Or you won't. That's up to him.’’

“And now that you’ve brought it up.” Junghoon’s enthusiasm started to level with Tone’s mischievous voice. “Kotone-ssi here does have a crush you may be familiar with. He’s—”

Kotone’s eyes widened at his clap black. She knows what he’s up to. “Yah!”

While Junghoon was able to change the subject with Hyerin around, teasing back Kotone allowed for the three students to start getting to know each other until lunch had ended.

= = =

The skies have darkened. The sun had already set about an hour earlier. Students are packing up in their booths. After all, they still have another day to prepare their stuff.

“Junghoon-ah…” Xinyu muttered.

He immediately turned to her. “Yes, noona?”

They took one step closer to each other. The young man gulped at her closer distance.

“You have any plans after this?” she asked him with a straight face.

“Not really…” he didn't give much thought to her question, expecting another objective. “Do you need me to assist you in another booth or..?”

“No, it’s not about the festival,” she cleared up. “You did well today… I just wanna hang out, like friends usually do, you know? It’s been a while since we went somewhere by ourselves. Just no bars or clubs like last time. You remember how that turned out.”

He lets out a chortle. “Oh, good point… Then, sure. Do you have any place in mind?”

The park is the perfect balance of having quiet scenery and triumphant noise around it.

She looks amazing. I mean she always did. She does. Wait, why am I thinking like this?

It was just the two of them. They haven’t felt like this since that night. During this breezy night, the comfort of having each other’s presence when they’ve realized there is no one else they know at this park aside from each other. It’s become a special place for them, not long after he helped her sober up, as well as helping the club with cheering her up.

“Look, Junghoon,” she broke their moment of silence with a somber mood. “About what I said back then. And the times before that. It was unnecessary and hurtful… So I have to say that I'm sorry about being suspicious of you about joining.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, noona,” he attests. “That was a long time ago. And what you felt was completely valid. I have no grudge against you for thinking like that.”

“That’s not entirely true! I feel so bad knowing your halmeoni, and I just wanna apologize for everything bad that I’ve said to you, about you, or behind your back.”

“It’s okay, noona. But if it helps you relieve your mind… Apology accepted.”

She still didn't feel too satisfied. It’s a progress, though. “Should we shake hands?”

“Why are you being so formal all of the sudden?” he tilted his head at her proposition.

“Geunyang,” she raised her hand. “What, you don’t want a symbol of our reconciliation? This too melodramatic for you?”

He chuckled, playing along with her request. Their hands tangled comfortably at this surface-level formality, but Junghoon looks at Xinyu with concern. To him, this one gesture shouldn't mean anything more than burying the hatching between their past “bad blood” of misunderstandings. To welcome a feeling of comfort to each their own hearts while his lukewarm hand touched her colder palm. But it’s because of this that he started to feel something else, the longer he’s holding her hand now. His confession that night flashed back to him.

Amidst the silence, their eyes leveled with one another. Dugeun.

Funnily enough, they let go of their hands at the same second, even though Junghoon never thought of Xinyu’s reason, and it wasn’t out of discomfort that he let go, but the thought of the unknown. That feeling he feared, because of the complications it could unleash to their lives.

Dugeun.

“Sorry, noona…” he lowered his head, before straightening his posture afterwards. “I might’ve gotten a little bit too comfortable there.”

“It’s okay, Junghoon-ah… But, enough sorries,” she raises her voice, surprising him with her sudden burst in hopes of ending their awkwardness together. “We should move way past this! No more dramas and all that. We got the festival coming up… You better get your game face on.”

“What?”

With a grin, she raised her tough yet enthusiastic exterior up. “You heard me.”

= = =

The first day of the festival had begun. Most, if not all, booths from various clubs and organizations are ready to entice and entertain the students from freshman to senior. Openings across campus inevitably drew crowds, consisting of students without a club or ones who simply wandered to spy on their rivals or neighbors with interest. In the cheers of the opening rally, Xinyu would've lost her balance along the waves of the crowd surrounding her. If it wasn't for Junghoon's reflexes that caught her just in time.

“Sorry, sunbae,” Junghoon backed away from her in an instant. “Hope you're all right.”

And they're back to square one.

“No, no, you don’t have to apologize,” Xinyu immediately assured him, though she could not look him in the eye for too long. “I'm all right.” Not with their little walk last night. “But, umm, you can let go now.”

“Oh, right. Right.” Their distance grew. “Mianhaeyo, noona…”

“It's okay, Junghoon-ah.” Her gentle cadence shifted into irritation. “Stop apologizing.”

He watched her walk and blend in with the horde ahead of them, not turning her back.

“Still awkward?” He heard Kotone’s soft and sympathetic voice behind him.

“Yeah, I guess,” he mumbled. She felt the sense of despondency in his voice.

Tone patted him on the back. “It’ll pass. But this is the festival, man, come on! This only happens a few times in a year. Let’s have fun, arasseo? We got five days to do… things!”

Xinyu wouldn’t have spoken to him for a while. Though, like most of the time, they and their friend groups only saw each other from distances, or when it’s their turn to watch over the club booths, if that one only ever happened. This week, however, gave him the opportunity to focus on himself. Outside of their club. Outside of work and organization.

Throughout the next few days, fun was mainly what Junghoon attempted to experience. The campus had days worth of booths, but as much as he hated to admit it to his friends, one could explore most of them within three days. At least, that's what he did. Whenever it wasn't his turn to guard and assist their booth, he went to pursue his own adventures with his closest buddies—if they could only keep themselves together within an hour.

Looking back, the first day and second day were almost everyone else's great highlights.

The first day was the explosive most students and associated visitors had come for. For Junghoon, though, it was also the start of his separation from Xinyu. The first time in a long while on campus. It wouldn't have been a big deal for either of them, if it wasn't for the day before. The morning hours gave him moments to warm up and loosen his worry.

“Oooooooh… That was so close… Better luck next time! Hope you come back.”

“Wah… You look so cute in those photos. You're quite photogenic. Thank you so much for participating in our booth!”

“For doing well, here's a freebie along with your main prize! Kamsahamnida!”

“Are you sure you're not a part of the Judo team? Football team? No? Huh…”

“Wanna show your moves and compete with fellow passionate performers in the name of our great university? Join the Seoul State Dragons Dance Team now!”

“You're a year of the Monkey. But your spirit animal is a Brown Bear! That means—”

The afternoon, however, was more awaited by students, professors, and visitors alike, who filled up the stadium twice compared to the morning rally for the opening concert. 

The cheerleading squad returned to appetize the eyes, ears, and hearts of the audience until the setlist of main courses had finally entered the stage with their microphones and instruments to play songs both familiar and new to the public:

Now, it's eight o'clock and I'm waiting on this good guy To come pick me up, I just wanna have a good night He's pulling up, oh my God, I see the headlights And he opens my door but his car isn't yours Just let me wave to you, not wave goodbye

Let me stay by your side 'Cause it's good enough Yeah, it's good enough for me

Amudo moreul geoya Malhan jeok eopseul teni Aicheoreom ulgo sipeun sungandeul Eoreuniran mareun cham geudael himdeulge hajyo Deo oeropge mandeureo

So help me Jujeoango isseoyo Nunmul nal geot gatayo Geureonikka jebal jebal jeballyo Tell me, it's okay to be happy

And I'm sinking into the feeling that we could be so much more I'm not who I was before Could it be magic? Oh, oh, oh-oh

Oh, you're the one Nae ane yuilhan melody Neoreul bureuneun moksori Uril ieojun Moksori

Throughout those two hours, Junghoon and his friends never left their row, except for snack and restroom breaks. Captivated by the old-fashioned and soothing atmosphere of live music, they sat or stood and hummed, cheered for, or sang along with the performers from the campus’ main field stadium until sundown. Performers have consisted of students who were aspiring bands or soloists, and, of course, the rising stars, grouped or independent, who they've been waiting the whole day and afternoon.

From a certain distance, he would spot some of the Mad Money Club next to the Diamond Dreamers, screaming their lungs out while they treated certain tracks as if they were at the noraebang… There was Dahyun and Yubin holding hands with Kaede and Hyerin, respectively, continuing their so-called initiation ritual as they kept on raising their hands in the air through the beats of the more hyper and upbeat tracks.

Beside them, Seoyeon laughed at her four members as the initiation unfolded. Next to her, Yooyeon would exchange laughter and advice with the younger woman through the ocean of noises, leaving each other smiles of deep respect as they pondered about their career choices after graduation. Nakyoung and Mayu kept their arms on each other’s shoulders while grooving to the music with their bodies swaying side to side. Jiwoo and Chaeyeon leaned their heads on each other. He didn’t know the Dreamers much compared to the Mad Money Club, but seeing all of them on the same row only amplified his experience in real time, as the girls’ lyrical exhilaration the whole afternoon had mirrored his friends.

But curiosity has led to move his gaze a little more to the right of their seat. Of course, how could he forget her?

There was also Xinyu in her beauty, with her thespian friends to her left as all three of her groups savored the music on a row below theirs. Junghoon might’ve been mistaken, but from his point of view, he noticed that her eyes were watering as her lips were neutral in the latter hours of the concert while her body remained steady through the ballads. He never knew why, but before he could entertain the thought of heading down, his own guilt-ridden, grudgeful self reminded him, Until you find a way to fix this mess, just stay away from her.

As the concert ended, the hours of enjoyment and carefree sing-alongs he shared with his friends were clogged by his misplaced confession. Exiting the stadium, Junghoon shook his head in hopes of forgetting her, only fixing his eyes on the ones he’s with.

On everyone’s way home around seven in the evening, Honggi's conversation with his friends summed up the first day quite well. “Shit, guys! That was a blast, wasn't it?”

“Last year was better,” Kotone blurted without a filter, making Myungsoo and Junghoon chuckled beside her. Junghoon had no strong opinion, while Myungsoo was on Honggi's side, though he'd rather let this discourse sit out.

“What? No! That's not what you really think, do you? How about Yeonghwan-hyung?”

“Yubin-ah seemed to love it… And I didn't really have a problem with the setlist.”

“You know what? I'll take that as a win for us. Unlike Miss Buzzkill here.”

“You were the one talking shit when the ballad singer was up!” she pointed out.

“Okay, so I didn't love all the songs. Big deal… At least, there were genres for everyone.”

“You have a point about that,” she nodded, before making a pout. “But we still could've had ARTMS for this year, if they just moved the date, so I'm sticking with last year... At least I got Loossemble during the Autumn Concert.”

“Arasseo…” Honggi sneered with his cocky grin. “People will always have their biases. Agree to disagree!”

The two would shake hands, much to the rest of their friends’ amusement.

The excitement for the second day took a little dip, yet it stayed steadily high for most. It was a week they felt no worries at any deadlines or examinations or anything academics. Within those two to three days, Junghoon didn't realize he had a lot of luck on his side, as if being enrolled at an international university wasn't enough. Varieties never ran out.

“Wanna take an MBTI Test? We're confident that our methods are legit—”

“Do you wanna find out who's the Bollywood celebrity you're most similar to?”

“Take a trip around the world via our simulation! It may help with your vacay plans.”

“Annyeong! If you're interested in learning more about various cultural roots, we're delighted to invite you to take a visit at our Asian Studies Cultural Exhibit!”

“Try out our matcha-flavored ramyeon and dubai chocolate cake! We promise you, they are not as unappealing as they sound.”

Of course, festivals weren't only about fun, but it offered windows to a student's future. Plenty of booths were also prepared by academic organizations and university sponsors, hoping to catch the attention and interest of students, regardless of their collegiate year.

“Assuming your grades are above average, I encourage you to maybe join another organization next semester. Something more related to student council, if you like.”

“I hope you're interested in our offer. You might still be a junior, but you got a brigh—”

“Kid, with your work experience, our company can guarantee you an easy interview.”

With his social battery running low, he almost forgot about Xinyu. Almost. But even then, he didn't want that to be the case. A part of him kept yearning for her presence. Plus, certain songs played at the concert didn't help either for “warping” his mind or “twisting” his heart. They weren't all gloomy, but those selections just happened to latch onto Junghoon’s ears like melodic magnets.

Fast forward, and the festival’s now in its third day; noon has gotten them separated by the restless hordes of the campus crowd. Somehow, not even the passage of time could drain the traffic within campus. Not in a noisy, joyous, and busy season like this.

After several minutes, Junghoon only met up with Kotone, sitting at an empty bench, a few meters away from the more compact, active, and populated regions of the campus. Although the sun's kiss wasn’t as prickly as it was in the summer heat, this seat under the shade of an oak tree is an all-time relaxation spot.

“Where's everyone else?” he asked.

“They divided and conquered,” she hissed in sweat. “Much like you have!”

“That’s what Honggi-yah and Yeonghwan-hyung did,” he defended them with a lower pitch.

“But it was Honggi who suggested we split it… Why did you take his words seriously?”

“Well, you also said that we should have fun. On the first day.”

“Yeah… But you've practically sped-run most of them yesterday. That's far from fun!”

Junghoon didn't have much to say. Her eyes became more vulnerable, as her lips curved downwards right as she sat on the bench next to him. His problem never went away. “Is it because you always keep on bumping into Xinyu-unnie, and now she's avoiding you? Is that what's been bothering you lately?”

“It didn't bother me when I was exploring others’ booths. I got myself some prizes…”

“Mianhae, Tone-yah…”

“No, I'm sorry for raising my voice… We can't always stay together as a group, can we?”

“It’s fine, but I mean… I think we're all together matters the most.”

“That's true, now that you've brought it up.”

“I should probably head back to the booth. Volunteer for the next shift.”

“You sure?” After this two-day streak of adventure, his decision caught her off-guard.

“Yeah… I don't want to ruin everyone’s vibe.”

“You didn't ruin anything, dude. You were impressive. You, like, ascended your level!”

He shook his head, looking down in embarrassment while she gave him praise. “Really?”

“Yeah, you played your ass off on a lot of games. You talked to a lot of org recruiters, even if you were just considering. Like that's something I wouldn't expect any normal person to do these days. You're actually living the college life during campus festivals.”

He shook his head, chuckling at her praise. “You flattered me a little too much there. I just distracted myself from the club a little more while I still got time, that's all.”

“Trust me... What you did was more than some of the students staring on their phones the whole day, when they could've seized the max of their enjoyment for this week. It's like, it’s not even that hot out here around this hour.”

The dynamic experience had left him with little energy to spare. “That may be true… I still think I should slow down a little more now that I'm gonna be staying in our area.”

“Good call… We only have two days left… Maybe, just take a chill pill, or buy yourself something to eat. We don't have any academics for the whole week. We might not even get the same level of fun next year, much like with our sunbaes now.”

He nodded silently at her sentiment. Their breeze-filled atmosphere got wistful quickly.

A few seconds later, Kotone received a text on her phone. “I'm needed elsewhere.”

“Is that one of the guys?” he expected.

“Yep.” Her smile widened. “Myungsoo-oppa needs me.”

That's why, he thought. “You can say that again,” he chuckled with a smug smirk.

“Shut up! He just needed my assistance with something,” she cackled at his tease, before putting her phone inside her pocket and walking slowly towards the wide crowded plaza. “Watch your surroundings on your way back, all right? Kalke!”

And now, he's back at it again. Back into his own thoughts while his eyes wander at the many sceneries in front of him, with a spectrum of faces, from boredom to enthusiasm.

= = =

The fourth day of the festival. 08:15 A.M. Almost everyone on booth duty still had less than an hour to feel laid back before they could open to the guests on campus. But, it was also a time that was early enough for the mind of Junghoon to feel unoccupied by any form of work, for his mind to remain restless at his reminiscences of infatuation.

He was only sitting down on one of the two chairs near the entrance of the Arcade Booth's tent, drinking a cup of warm plain tea beside his most dear friend, who's taking a sip of her own cup of matcha.

“Maybe it's Stockholm Syndrome?” he suggested to Kotone nonchalantly, forcing a smirk for her to approve of his theory. “Or Seoul Syndrome? Is that a thing?”

Despite their convincing talk from last time, this conversation was far from over. Both of them were wishing it's the last time they'd have this topic, but they kept on going regardless.

“No, it's not.” The woman hit him in the shoulder, though she didn't apply much force. With more than enough patience in her calm system, she was simply annoyed and even astonished by his persistence to think of many ways of deflecting and escaping his own feelings. “You did it by yourself. You two have gotten close because you were working together closely. That's just a fact. Xinyu-unnie didn't coerce you of anything.”

He placed his forehead on his right palm, sighing on his wrist while his fingers dug through his hair. “You’re right. I can't even believe I tried to blame her… You know, it wasn't like this with Nien.”

He reminisced about Nien. How things were smooth between them. How they flirted around even when he didn't realize he was flirting, or simply because he didn't know exactly how to. Of course, she's seeing someone now because of his own inaction, and he couldn't be happier for her, but there's no doubt that she and Junghoon had something a couple of semesters ago. Whatever this feeling was now, it was crawling up to him.

“It wasn't easy, but we hit it off the moment we started talking by ourselves... I got lucky. Now with, umm… Ugh, I can't even say her name, it's weird that I just feel this way for her.”

“You meet different people, Junghoon. Luck or no luck, it's perfectly normal... It's life. Nien-sunbae has moved on. So have you.”

He softly groaned into his palms.

“You're not the problem here,” Kotone continued. “Neither is Xinyu-unnie. She just doesn't know the whole thing yet… And even if she does, there's nothing wrong with expressing how you feel.”

Junghoon remained quiet in his perplexity. It's like they have been going in circles with this. A conversational time loop, per se. Kotone had made insightful advice, but it's his own problem that he still couldn't get this itch off of him. The itch for more questions about his endless “what ifs.” They just wouldn't stop.

“If you're still not sure, maybe you can ask someone else besides me. Someone you know won't be too judgmental, or someone who’ll be more impartial in situations like this. None of that online forum shit, arasseo?”

Her suggestion had already gotten through him, although her final statement made him raise an eyebrow. “But we’ve used online forums before—”

“Learn from our mistakes, Junghoon-ah!” She raised her tone for that delivery, before softening it right after. “Please? Anons are the last people you should be asking. Even if some of them have decent answers, this isn't an AITA thing.”

A part of himself felt otherwise. Someone falling for their friend’s ex? He's heard similar stories online, ones which his friends would make fun of. Watched different variations of the same exact plot on melodramas. Perhaps that was why she wanted him to steer away from forums. He's already facing his own demons.

“Geez, all right... Calm down, arasseo. You know this isn't your problem, Tone.”

“Your problem might as well be mine…” She scrambled his hair, treating him like a troubled pup. “Aigoo, you should know I'm actually rooting for you in this. Sometimes.”

“Why?”

“You don't want it?” She leaned her face slightly downwards, raising an eyebrow.

He scratched his head. “In this situation? I'm not really sure I do… But I kinda appreciate it.”

Of course, there was another elephant in the room. One that the woman has been trying so hard to avoid in front of him. “So… Do you wanna talk about hyung?”

Kotone gave out an effortlessly heavy sigh. He knew he's not the only one going through something, but it wouldn't hurt to feel concerned about his best friend. It kind of would, but expressing his sympathy should hurt things a little less. “It's a bit too early. Maybe later, I don't know. I don't think I'm in the mood for it.”

“Of course… You know I'm also here, if you want to talk about it, or anything else, really.”

“Thanks, bud.” She leaned her head onto his right shoulder, slowly closing her eyes. A sigh followed.

===

12:30 P.M. The festival booths were occupied with more people. Junghoon was on watch duty over at the Mad Money's Love Arcade, and by their collective rules with their sister club, he got himself a companion to deal with guests while they played their booth.

The Diamond Dreamers had one of their own to assist him at the booth. So, it just had to be this woman whom he ended up asking for consultation. Even if she turned out to be much more invested in this discussion than he expected.

“I'd say just go for it!” Kim Nakyoung yelled beside Junghoon, almost startling a couple of students working on the teddy bear claw machine, while making the students on the wack-a-mole machine and console turn their heads. “Joeseonghamnida…” She craned her head to him. “It can be as simple as a confession. No need to cherry coat it.”

“I think you mean sugar coat—” he tried to correct her.

“Whatever it is, you get what I mean!”

“So… Should I really just say it? To her?”

She shrugged her shoulders, with her carefree posture impressing him. “You asked for my advice. Hell, I'm graduating next year. And if they're a senior like me, they are too. I mean, for me, the worst thing is not being able to say anything at all… You may never get that chance, if you just keep dilly dallying around with your own thoughts or keep asking around everyone you know... Live a little!”

The couple finally dropped a teddy bear into the machine’s slot, inciting a thunderous cheer from them, while Nakyoung and Junghoon gave them a supportive applause.

“Thank you for playing!” Junghoon slightly bowed alongside Nakyoung, seeing the two exit the tent while another group of four students entered the booth with their payments ready. Receiving their pay, Junghoon turned to the woman, still troubled by one more thing. “I, uhh, get what you mean… But her ex—”

“An ex is not the same as a boyfriend or girlfriend,” she told him abruptly. “There’s an ex before those words for a reason. You really want me to keep going?”

Of course, he didn't say the woman's name, which she respected. Yet, with a similar summary of the story he has told her, she echoed Tone’s sentiment.

“Not really. I just… You've made a good point. Thanks, Nakyoung-sunbaenim.”

She latched his hand with hers. A surprising, yet welcoming act of appreciation and amiability for him. “Anytime… It's been a real pleasure talking with you, Junghoon-ssi. And please, just call me, Naky… You're a good guy, so I don't see why you have little confidence in yourself in front of this mystery gal.”

He's only known Nakyoung for this whole week. She's a dance major who also happened to be in her senior year, much like Yooyeon, Dahyun, Seoyeon, Nien, and well, Xinyu. So it gave him something new to learn and ponder from her shoes. Based on how quickly he’d gotten along with the woman, he also pondered about making his move on her or just exploring an interesting direction with her, even if he surmised, he had little to no chances of making it work. He didn’t know how else to describe this woman’s vibe, other than her mannerisms being both tomboyish and feminine.

But more unfortunately for him, the “godly” presence of Xinyu had already invaded his mind, his heart, and his conversations with others.

The realization that Xinyu joked or sincerely thought he was flirting with Nakyoung days ago only irked him for a second.

In Junghoon's mind, however, he's got Kotone to thank for making a new friend, even though their distribution of tasks were more or less based on their leaders’ choices. It’d be nice if his newfound friends and acquaintances would be able to stick around in his sphere even after this festival.

“You talked with Naky-unnie?” Speaking of the devil, emerging from the tent's entrance, Tone walked to them with a medium box of loaded nachos in her hand. “Oh, she's terrible with relationship advice, Junghoon-ie. Better be careful hanging out with her.”

“Says the one who's still single,” the older woman shot back, rolling her eyes with a smirk, but she was nevertheless welcomed to take a piece of chip from the box.

“You're also single, unnie,” she effortlessly handled her would-be tease.

“Aniya!” Nakyoung came off as a little defensive for no reason. “I'm single by choice, come on. There's a difference. And just so remember, I had a boyfriend last semester.”

“So did I.”

“You did?” Junghoon's eyes widened at this revelation, but Nakyoung only shook her head with a smirk, expecting her answer.

The woman couldn't hide her own smirk from forming, unveiling hints of pride and mischief. “Well, they weren't boyfriends to say the least, but it was a few dates…”

“I knew you'd say that.” Nakyoung crossed her arms. “Fair enough.”

“So Myungsoo-hyung wasn't lying about your little blind dates?”

“Yah… Why would I be lying to him? Or any of our gang?”

“Nothing. I just, I even thought he was lying when he said he got a girlfriend. Could’ve been something you both made up.”

“Oh, yeah!” Nakyoung chimed in. “Our club thought the same when Yooyeon-unnie told us about him.”

Hearing those two names together, Junghoon stole a glance at Kotone. Her smile had dropped with her lips pursing together, avoiding any signs of vulnerability through the presence of a heavy frown. If he wasn’t mistaken, he saw her eyes getting watery by the second. She forcefully curved her lips upwards, showing her teeth.

“I know unnie’s a visual, but I never knew she'd get herself a snack like Myungsoo-ssi,” Nakyoung continued, munching on another meat-filled chip. “I mean Tone-chan, how did you make any moves on?”

“Make a move on Myungsoo-oppa?” Kotone burst with cackles, just hearing herself repeat her unnie's words. Nakyoung could only raise both her eyebrows in confusion, slowly turning her head to Junghoon. He simply shrugged his shoulders at her with an awkward chuckle, even if he had sensed an inkling of pain or at least jealousy within his friend, knowing her secret. “A snack?” Her laughter made her body shake, she had to give the nacho box to Junghoon's hands, which he held with care. “Get outta here!”

He let her laugh through her hidden angst. His do-gooder side wanted to steer the conversation elsewhere, but he already had a problem of his own, but he knew that Kamimoto Kotone is stronger than this.

“That was funny, unnie,” the woman wiped a single tear of her eye with a knuckled fist as her laughter subsided with a few coughs.

“Okay..?” Nakyoung chuckled nervously. “I'm glad that made you laugh, Tone. Welp, I'm guessing you two really just have a sibling-like relationship. You know, most girls in our class and club have him on their lists of top five campus crushes.”

That was strike two, but Kotone shook her head off with a chuckle. She took the box from Junghoon’s hands, before taking a loud and unabashed bite of a chip. “Eh, good for him. And best of luck to them getting past Yooyeon-unnie!”

And besides, they already went off tangent within a few minutes. By that time, three more batches followed the line as only one of them was able to snatch a stuffed toy. Another student sought for a quick instruction in making a jewel for their crush.

The trio had a fun time talking and laughing, but that was it for Nakyoung and Kotone on Junghoon’s list. Xinyu was still not around his radar, making him feel a tug of war between relief and wariness. A more determined half of his spirit demanded he go look after her or ask any of the Mad Money members. But that'd be a death sentence, he added, shaking his head.

He even considered getting the thoughts of the rest of the Diamond Dreamers, but then, he had to list down all the first impressions he's had with them since last week. Chaeyeon and Jiwoo seemed inseparable. The pranksters of the group, their personalities were similar and so in sync, yet they're also distinct. He wouldn't be surprised if they were actually dating or simply being intimate. Mayu adored him, but that only made him more reserved, even though he liked meeting her. Despite her deceptively high-pitched, soft-spoken voice, she's perhaps one of the most extraverted people he's met. For him, cheerful ones may or may not be more prone to spilling his beans, though he might simply be stereotyping her. And lastly, Yooyeon would be busy hanging out with Myungsoo, as far as he's concerned.

They're a no-go, he concluded.

= = =

The next hour came with a less busier crowd. But their shift at the booth was succeeded by Yubin and Jiwoo. Yeonghwan was a third wheel, albeit a willing one. Now, he made time with another close friend while they took a walk in the middle of the campus plaza.

“Junghoon-ie... You don't have to overthink it, eh?”

“You too, Myungsoo-hyung?”

Yooyeon wasn't with him at the time, but his hand was holding a shopping bag, filled with another batch of gifts and prizes he must've won at various booths. He's already learned of his gifts for Yooyeon the other day, but this was a new batch. Lucky them.

“What do you want me to say?” he raised his empty palm. “For me to say the same exact things Tone said to you—”

He turned to him with wider eyes. “Tone told you?”

He raised his hands, the handles wrapped around his wrist as the bag now dangled below his hand. “Look, she was getting really worried about you. Don't come at her, okay? I was just worried.”

She was definitely worried about Junghoon's complexity, but the latter knew exactly why her expression must've worried Myungsoo. “I'm not gonna…”

“Don't worry about the guys either. Yeonghwan’s making his moves on Yubin-ssi, which seems to be doing well. I mean, we barely saw those two not being around together. And there's also Honggi, and—well… He's being himself.”

He let out a soft snortle. “I don't disagree on that.”

“I just really think it'd be better if you just… You know? Follow your guts and set things straight with Xinyu herself.”

“That's impossible for her.”

“Why would it be? Did she already say no?”

“She might as well be with her standards. She's gay…” He's even forgotten he'd already asked a similar question to Kotone a few days ago, but his uncertain mind persevered.

“No, she's not… She's only half gay.” That sounded better in his head.

It was strange as those words entered Junghoon’s ears. “That's not how it works.”

“I know, but what I mean is, she's not against dating men!” He stopped to look at his friend's defeated, almost blank expression. “Unless… She told you otherwise.”

Junghoon exhaled through his nostrils, before his eyes faced him. “She didn't…”

“It's obvious and simple… You like the woman. You can't hide from your own feelings, man... I mean, I heard from Tone that it's been months since you two worked together, right? And… I don't believe you're betraying anyone because you ended up liking her.”

“Really?”

“Of course… You've had time with her, like anyone with another person, and things just started fluttering in your heart. Every time she's talking or approaching, it's like you feel butterflies bursting out of your stomach. Or the usual shivers creeping up your spine.”

No matter how weirded they were phrased, the imagery of his descriptions was too immaculate for Junghoon, it made him recall his moments with Xinyu all over again, mirroring their cycles of practice and rehearsal the cast of the Thespians had made for all scenes throughout their production.

“That's a gross way of putting it… Is that really how they're teaching you in your advanced English classes? I'm not even sure that's the right expression.”

He squinted his eyes. “I know. It's a hyperbole. It's just an exaggeration, just like how you're kind of exaggerating the magnitude of this whole scenario... It's like you're not even worried about the more likely possibility of you getting rejected.”

“I'm not.” He wasn't wrong, but now that he brought it up…

“That's the thing that freaks me out. Freaks us out.”

“What does?” For him, maybe it's best he felt that way.

“You don't believe in yourself.” Those words clenched his heart. “Even in hypotheticals.”

He couldn't defend himself on that one. Instead, he stomached his thought's remark. Perhaps, that's just really me. But he knew that would be an answer that would only make Myungsoo persist and continue buttering his esteem, so he had no other choice, but to give into his straightforward advice. He's the one with the girlfriend after all. “Maybe I, uhh, should just say it to her, then. Up front.”

Myungsoo stood up from his seat, mustering up what was left of the energy he had for his friend conserved in this conversation as his volume leveled up. “Yes, exactly! Stop thinking about the many ways she can reject you and just come clean with her.”

He took a deep breath, before his lips curled upwards. “Okay, then. Thanks, hyung.”

The older one stepped closer to give him a few pats on his shoulder with a humble smile.  “Anytime, bud… But… Are you sure you're not gonna ask for someone else after this?”

“I won't.” He intended to stop there with his voice commanding some sense of certainty, but his mind couldn’t handle more and more variables coming through the scenarios he had kept on playing. “I'm not…” he added. “I think.”

“You think?” Myungsoo knew he couldn't stop his friend from being like this. “That doesn't sound very reassuring.”

Junghoon cleared his throat, deafening his thoughts long enough to assure Myungsoo. “I won't. I won't. That's final, I promise.”

With a smile, Myungsoo realized he would simply have to put his trust in his bud. “Good. Now go get her answer.”

= = =

It was five-thirty in the afternoon. Running out of more impartial voices to listen to, Junghoon stepped inside the professor's office. One in particular.

“You may come in now, Junghoon-ssi.”

And yes, Myungsoo still wasn't enough. Junghoon had to ask someone older than all of them. More impartial, but maybe with more experience... It was someone he had never considered asking for advice during his three years (and counting) in Seoul State University.

“Are you asking for advice?”

Until now.

“Uh, ne, seonsaengnim.”

“But…” By the look of uncertainty in your expression, he already senses that something's off. “I'm guessing this isn't about grades, is it?”

His hands were trembling. Regret was coursing through his veins. “Joesonghamnida, Professor Jeong. I didn't mean to waste your time.”

“Oh, no, no!” He waved and shook his hands as the young man stood up in unease. “It's okay! Sit down, sit down. Come on, your grades are up. They’ve always been improving. I had a hunch you're not here for consultation. Not about academics, I presume.”

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Uh-huh… And how can you forget that we've talked about your little project case with Sohyun-ssi, which we've handled that well. Look how she's doing now. I don't see why we can't deal with this problem either. You know, just off the books.” The professor's voice of approachability persisted through his sentiment. Made Junghoon realize that any other professor wouldn't have let it slide after Sohyun confessed about their project, which he carried while she was occupied with her organization. “But—if you really aren't comfortable with it, you can just tap out, arasseo?”

And so he tried to put it as an “asking for a friend” situation. He practically transcribed a whole forum question into his own words, which someone could have called him out for committing plagiarism or a repeated question if he asked it himself online. Expounding on his words, Professor Jeong kept his attentive ears and eyes, treating the situation as his student was reciting in the lecture hall. A minute has passed as he gave a couple of nods to his pupil and placed his chin on his fingers, leading with the realization that…

“You're falling for someone. Is that what you're telling me here?”

The young man stopped his tracks, stunned with his own eyes widening and his lips slowly opening. He heaved out of nervousness and that gave away almost everything.

The professor let out a laugh, but not one that comes off as mockery or pitiful. In a way, it evokes a sense of nostalgia or yearning for a semblance of the past. And yet, Junghoon remained confused. Anxious at his next choice of words. Still, he did not want to leave.

“It's just…” he was still in disbelief. “Wow, young love really doesn't go away, does it? It's everywhere. This is new.”

“But, umm, I don't have to say who—”

“You absolutely don't have to say who. I'm here to give my two cents on the situation, not the identity of the people in it. I couldn't care less if it's a man or a woman.”

“Oh. Okay, then… Here's the thing.”

He told him the gist of his love scenario. Although the absence of context clues like with Nakyoung and background like with Kotone made his recap a little longer. But it felt like a breath of fresh air that the professor didn't ask questions while he was telling his story, nor the fact that he only asked a few as soon as he was finished.

“So… You said you never had these feelings before you two became closer friends.”

“Ne.”

“And those feelings came after they broke up with their ex?”

“That's correct.”

“Don't make this a matter of whether she'll accept your feelings or not… It's completely understandable that you're worried about her reaction, or the possibility that she hasn't moved on from her ex, but getting your feelings off your chest should be enough to help get through this, Junghoon. That's what I'm reading from you. Be clear with your intentions.”

He was basically giving a free lecture, something that made Junghoon listen on, albeit without any notes on his own phone or notebook. Every word went through his mind and heart.

“You got it?”

“Ne.”

“But also remember to give her some space. Her time, okay? Things ain't all easy as it seems. Even for them.”

And as the bell rang the second time, classes had ended for those who were attending. He offered his hand, signaling a formal handshake, which he quickly reciprocated.

Standing up from his seat, now wearing his shoulder bag, Junghoon gave Professor Jeong a bow of gratitude and farewell. “Kamsahamnida.”

He raised a fist into the air while sending off the young man outside his office. “Best of luck, my student. Hwaiting.”

Of course, he never had classes for this day or any more stuff to deal with at the festival for the evening, so he knew himself there was only one place to head to, if it wasn't any more obvious. On his way outside the department building, however, fate or whatever form of chance and circumstance had intervened as his single path to home ended up crossing with the one and only…

“Xinyu-noona…”

He hasn't seen her that often this morning, but her closed lips formed a smile. Not too apparent from afar, but it was enough to tell her relief from it. “I thought I wouldn't see you today,” she muttered, slowly walking towards him. “What're you doing here?”

“Just a short consultation with Professor Jeong.”

Her head tilted to the right. “That was pretty random… On festival week?”

“Yep… Just wanted to check my grades, since they're still not updating on the site.”

She giggled. “Oh, okay… I forgot that you're kinda grade-conscious.”

“Speaking of which, how was your festival?”

“Pretty swell… Just got some internship offers. How about you? I heard.”

“Yeah… Well, I kinda regret doing it.”

“Wae? You had fun. Seoyeon and Hyerin-ie were surprised how wild you were.”

“Something must've come over me. I'm surprised you didn't have fun with your friends.”

“We had enough. This would be our annual fourth festival, after all, so that's kind of the last thing on our minds. Most of us, at least.”

He simply nodded, with his lips pursed. “That makes sense.”

They took a walk outside the building, letting both their autopiloted legs and bodies take them wherever on campus. Passing through the less crowded areas, they saw a third of the booths in their sight started to close down before the sun set. It was neither their turn on duty to close down the arcade for today, so they had one less thing to talk about… Other than the very thing they should've been talking about to begin with.

Of course, he had to be the first one to break the silence. “Hey, look. I'm sorry…”

“Don't be…” Her tone immediately sounded remorseful. “It was just all of the sudden, you know? What you said about that feeling.” Not to mention, their accidental touch.

“I know.” His orbiting guilt couldn't even let her finish. “That's why I'm apologizing.”

“Junghoon-ah…” She paused for a moment as they kept on walking. Junghoon simply looked at her with an almost neutral expression. Dilly dallying around wasn't her style, especially in a situation as somber as this one. “Can't we just go back to being friends?”

“We still are, aren't we?” Junghoon didn't hesitate to tell her that.

“You know what I mean…”

“I wouldn't mind that, to be honest.”

“You wouldn't mind or you wouldn't care?”

She knew he couldn't choose between the two, not because he's unaware of the difference, but because he knew how he really felt.

He answered her with, “You said we should just pretend like nothing happened, right?”

“Yeah…” she only mumbled, staring deeply into his clenched hands.

That baffled him even more. “You seem eager to bring it up again.”

“I just wanna know what's going on with your mind?” she confessed. Her nerves were struck by his counter, but she didn't deny it. “What's led to this…”

He exhaled with struggle in his thoughts. “I couldn't figure it out myself either—”

“Bullshit,” she muttered with a snortle. Not letting him away easily with I don't know(s) and I'm not sure(s). “Start with when.”

“Believe me or not, I'm not sure…” Despite his uncertainty, he ought to give her an honest answer. “I first realized it that night. I guess it wasn't long before that, but I… I tried ignoring it.”

A memory reminded her. “But before that… When Sohyun and I were still together—”

It was a question he knew was bound to be asked. He still didn't know how to phrase it. “I, uhh, I didn't feel a thing for you.”

“Ouch.” That came out wrong in both their ears. And yet, such honesty amused her.

He closed his eyes. “I didn't mean it like that. I was more or less just intimidated by you.”

“Double ouch, but I guess it can't be helped.” His confession made her grin teasingly. “Lots of folks are intimated by me. Though, the feeling was mutual… I mean—I even thought you were into her back then.”

“No, no, no, noona… I didn't see her like that. I never had a close friend since Tone and the rest of the guys, but having a new friend like Sohyun-noona, and, well, you girls has changed that for me. In some way.”

“In what way?”

“Like having sisters?” Regret immediately lit up through his eyes.

Intrigue and confusion entered her psyche. “So, with Nien, is that—”

“Not in a literal way…” he had to clarify that pretty quickly. “Like having female friends.”

Though he wanted to move on, she continued to make a guess. “By having sisters… Is that, umm, how you see Kotone-yah? Is she like a sister to you?”

He could only respond with a nod.

“Did you have any siblings?” she added.

“None that I know of. I'm an only child, so…” He rarely brought up his family, but knowing more about him, something that no one else knew, was slowing down the tension Xinyu was feeling about him. When it's just the two of them. It felt calming.

Her eyes moved to the side, stealing a glance of his face. “So, it was just Nien, then?”

“Was…” His throbbing heart pushed the need to correct it. He knew what she meant. “I really did like her, but…”

Dugeun, she heard it in her chest while looking down. “Glad to hear your perspective.”

“But you and Sohyun-noona made each other happy, so I stuck with you. With the club. In time, I knew each of you more, respected your capabilities. Admired your closeness.”

She listened on to the flow of his heartfelt sentiment without the need for interruptions.

“I thought we could just be friends,” he continued, letting his heart speak. “I guess that was all I asked us to be, before this whole thing came through... I don't care what we are or what may be, but I do care about you. I'll keep caring for you and the club... Unless, you don't want that anymore.”

His final sentence triggered a pinching, prickling feeling in her heart. “Junghoon-ah…”

And in spite of Xinyu's eagerness to mutter a word, he heard a gulp from the woman. She thought this would be easy to deal with, but she underestimated how it felt to feel something or anything, no matter how unsure she was. Unfortunately, before she could form a response, they would realize that they've already reached the main campus gates.

“I'll go…” Although Xinyu noticed it first. “Take care, Junghoon-ah.” She walked off.

Junghoon slowed his breathing down as much as he could. In Xinyu's departure, his thunderstorm storm of thoughts weren't there to accumulate and save his sorrow while still standing in the silence. It's been a long and exhausting four days of exploring events or babysitting booths for everyone.

= = =

“How do you feel about her, dear?”

Junghoon saw his grandma walking up to him while his eyes stayed on the boiling pot. “It's not that simple, halmeoni.”

“I'm sure it isn't… I'm not saying it is. But then again, maybe you don't have to overcomplicate it, either.”

The broth tasted no saltiness, though savoriness was starting to sneak into his tongue. “Huh?” His halmeoni’s words did confuse him, however.

“Let me handle this.” The woman moved over to the kitchen counter, taking the ladle from her grandson, despite his plea not to. “Just do it. You’ve done everything here… Just stand there and don't think about anyone else. Just think of her.”

“How? That’s just… That doesn't make sense. Just had a little more salt to it, halmeoni.”

“Okay, then…” She followed his tip, before telling him, “Clear your mind. Of any other disruptive thought that may stand in your way. Just remember this woman… How she makes you feel. The warmth of her hand on yours, only if you have made it that far, at least. Her being around your company. How comfortable do you feel, Junghoon-ie?”

He closed his eyes for a bit. A few memories flashed and sprinkled across his mind. Particularly their walks at Keuri-go Park. “She makes me feel really good, I guess.”

“Go on. How does she make you feel good?”

“Just her company. Her humor and her confidence. It's out of this world. She makes me comfortable. Even though her hands were cold, they were calming. It always surprised me when she just latched onto my hands, but they always felt comforting… Some people call her ice queen or a cold-hearted princess, but they just don't know her enough.”

“And what do you know about her that other people don't?”

“She’s passionate about her work. She cares about her clubmates, her fellow thespians.”

His grandmother let out a chuckle. “There you go, dear…”

“You seem to know a lot about things like this.”

“Just enough… Your mother and father were beating around each other's bushes when they were younger… I guess, some things haven't changed."

She's barely brought up his parents. Not since they passed. Hearing them without a heart-wrenching sensation in his chest felt soothing, somewhat nostalgic even.

His eyes lit up and widened with curiosity. “Were they really like that?”

“Mmm-hmm… They weren't all that close when they were studying, but they made it work. I didn't even know they were mingling behind our backs until they graduated! Those lovebirds couldn't hold it in.”

Her laughter infected Junghoon. He rarely remembered anything substantial about them, unless he had to ask her or look into their family albums. He didn't remember them being in love, but he'd rather have the benefit of the doubt that perhaps, he was simply too young to remember everything.

She placed her palms on his shoulder. “Hey, if this girl is not interested in you, then it shouldn’t be a big deal, okay? It may hurt, but you'll just have to own it and live with it. There's more plentiful fish in the sea, dear.”

“That's so cliché, halmeoni.” She's not wrong, but her delivery made him shake his head.

“That doesn't mean it's untrue,” she countered, leaving her grandson with a chuckle of acknowledgement. “You know, the thing with you young-ins days these is that—”

“Halmeoni,” he whined, making her laugh out loud at his reaction. She knew it would get him, but she truly wanted to ease the storm of worries swirling within his heart.

“Things will get better, my grandson.”

“Thanks, halmeoni… Now please drink your medicine, all right?”

“Way ahead of you… Also, dinner's ready, if it's all good with you.”

It's been days since we wanted to make sure. And now, there was no one else for him to confide in, no one he'd chosen, at least. And yet, after all those talks and consultations, it didn't feel enough for Junghoon. And then, another realization sprung up. Maybe it's no longer about confiding, nor reassurance that he's looking for. On the same night, he just wanted to take one last stop in order to “get this over with,” once he's done with dinner.

= = =

A few hours later. Inside his room, Junghoon has been waiting on his desk for the past ten minutes, seeing himself on his old computer’s screen, before Sohyun’s face finally appeared with him on the video calling program. It was 10:14 P.M in Korea.

He raised his hand to wave at her. “Hey, noona…” His heart accelerated at a steady pace.

“Junghoon-ah!” The background and overall surroundings of the café wall behind her was bright as day, and so was her expression. “I was wondering when you'd call me.”

That made him think of everyone else. “Have the others—?”

“Yep.” She took a bite of her biscuit. “They were the first, actually.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” he told her while she took a sip of her cup of coffee.

“Just yesterday, we talked for like almost two hours. Like each of them couldn't stop yapping about their day, ‘cause they all can't be staying in the booth and enjoying the festival at the same time!”

He couldn't help but smile wider. “You must've had no idea how much they missed you.” It's as if he never had a problem in the past week or two. That's just how things went.

“I imagined it a while back,” she admitted with her watery eyes. “But I guess I have now, so I don't have to imagine them anymore… I missed them a ton… All of you, you know.”

“Me too, noona… And I'm guessing you've also met the new members?”

“Oh, definitely! We even exchanged our contacts just after the call.”

“I see you still got that Park Ssaem charisma,” he teased. “Even from the other side of the world.”

“Oh, would you stop that?” she chuckled. “They were just really, really fun to get along with. It's not that hard to explain it, but seeing those two reminded me of when we first got together as a small-time club.”

She was referring to the founding of the Mad Money Club, which he or Yubin weren’t a part of, but seeing Sohyun with her smile and nonstop talking gave Junghoon a sense of nostalgia. For a time that might not happen ever again. Not in the same fashion, at least. “Really? Care to list down your first impressions of them?”

“Are you quizzing me now just because I'm not there, while you’re wilding out on every booth you find and winning a lot of stuff on your own?” she grinned, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not even gonna ask how you found that out, but it's not like that. I'm just curious, that's all. The old meeting the new sounds intriguing. It's a bummer I even missed it.”

“That's what you get for working at the booths too hard,” she pouted. “But, since you asked nicely, first and foremost, Hyerin was pretty adorable. She's too passionate about helping at the booth… Kaede-chan was also super duper cute, but she was definitely much tougher to get in touch with. I should've probably practiced a little more Japanese… But speaking of Kaede, I heard that you're able to ‘soften her up’ during your first meeting.”

There was no doubt in his mind she'd bring it up. “Yeah... That moment was also tough for me the first time.”

“You mean scary?” she leaned closer into the screen, playfully intimidating him, strikingly mirroring the vibe he had felt from the younger member at the time.

“Not that scary…” He shook his head from side to side, though his exterior of a smooth and deepened voice was shaking at the recollection of that moment.

“I heard you froze when she kept asking you about your role in the club.”

He couldn't help but be more playfully aggressive. “Okay, who told you? Did Dahyu—”

“Everyone did.”

He sighed in defeat. “Of course, they did.”

“Don’t worry, hoobae… I'm really proud you've gotten yourself out of your shell for that situation. You showed Kaede-chan that respect is something that she's gotta give, if she wants to earn it from everyone… You've been a part of the Mad Money Club, Junghoon. No one's telling you otherwise.” She's still the same old mentor he looked up to.

“I, umm, that was hell of a compliment. Gomawayo, noona.”

“Don't mention it. We're always glad to have you... All of us.”

He wanted to say it. Steer the conversation elsewhere. But he also missed her presence. So he did his best, prolonging their conversation in the next thirty minutes, until he got the chance to talk about her current state of affairs in her new home.

Junghoon led the change of subject with, “So… How's Paris so far, noona?”

“Not too bad. I remembered some stuff online really hit hard around here, but yeah—”

Her voice had hints of discomfort and snickering. “We're they right about the city?”

“I'm afraid they're not too far off. Parts of the city are well… Not the cleanest, I think the neighborhoods outside campus are a million times cleaner compared to here.”

“I'm sure there are still great parts of it, right?”

“Of course, of course! The Eiffel doesn't look like it's rusting yet. Unlike the love locks on their bridge.”

They exchanged a moment of unbridled laughter.

“You're talking about that lovers’ bridge, right?” Junghoon had taken another steer.

“Mmm-hmm. They did stop putting locks there years ago, though, but I still couldn't help but imagine it being there at times when I was there as a kid… It's like, I wanted those things to stay there.”

Deep down, he wondered if she felt the same thing about her old flame.

“And by the way, food's pretty good, too…” she added. “And oh yeah, the surroundings did get much cleaner when officials were preparing for the Olympics, so I gotta give them some credit.”

A few more minutes would pass. Sohyun gave him more highlights of French culture, the good, the bad, and the ugly of it all. Eventually, she ran out of words by the fortieth minute. And that's when he gave in to the guilt-ridden temptation of bringing up Xinyu.

“I hope I'm not ruining the mood, you said you talked with everyone in the club.”

“Maja… Just speak your mind.”

“Okay… Then that means, umm, you and Xinyu-noona you've also reconnected, right?”

“Yeah, we've talked, too. It was…” She gave out a heavy sigh. “Weird. And strange.”

Out of desperation, his thoughts regressed, hoping it would allow him to escape his problem. “Things usually are, but I'm sure it'll get better once you try and talk about starting things over again with—”

“Aniya,” she interrupted him with a somber smile. He only froze, clueless on what to say next, like she turned down his implied suggestion.

“What?”

“We're not getting back together,” she told him up front. No tears in her behind her eyeglasses. Not a sight of twitch in her fingers or any sign of discomfort. At least, not one that one could see. Who wouldn't be uncomfortable hearing the name of their ex?

“Why not?” he kept digging. “Noona… What happened? When you two reconnected.”

“It's what we both decided…” She pursed her lips for a second, producing a sound that broke their air of silence. “We've been friends before. I don't see why we can't now.”

“Oh… But is that how you feel?”

“What I feel?” she almost chuckled at his question. But she wasn't too bothered. “I don't think that's what matters to me right now, but… A part of me wants to heal from this… I couldn't keep wallowing in my past, because I have a life here now.”

He tried examining her face, but she knew how she felt. What she truly wanted. Bittersweet as it might be, he sensed a glimmer or hope of happiness from her.

“I know what you're trying to do, Junghoon-ie.”

However, he failed to sense her gaze of suspicion, something he's failed to do in the past.

Panic set in within seconds, leaving him almost paralyzed. “What?”

“And I appreciate it.” But her voice remained composed. Welcoming, still. “If I'm being honest, it was hard for me to adjust here…”

“I can't imagine how it must've been.”

“I'm feeling happier now, to say the least. Made a couple of friends.”

“I hope they're treating you well.”

“Oh, they very much are. And I met some folks from Korea, too, but I'm not too close with all of them yet.”

“It’ll all work out, noona. You being you should be enough to find more people to vibe with. Someone like the Mad Money Club.”

“I hope it will… But, I also want to thank you so much for taking care of her. Of Xinyu. The girls wouldn't have been there, back with the new club, if it weren't for you.”

“It's the promise I made, so…”

“Don't just do it because of our promise. I'm just happy none of you are having a fallout or some big fight, but I hope you stay with them as long as you want.”

Despite her moment of reassurance, he's felt even more unsure on how to deal with this emotional turmoil he's facing and keeping all to himself.

“Is everything all right, Junghoon-ah?” In all of their time together, he rarely got the chance to speak around a crowd, but when it's one on one, it was not hard for someone close to him, especially like Sohyun, to read Junghoon's face when he's in deep thought. “Did Xinyu tell you about me or something? Did any of them say something strange or worrying?”

The thing is she didn't. I mean barely. Around him, of course. He was just an assistant. A friend she made half a year ago. He's the one who told her something strange.

“I'm guessing you wanna tell me something about her? Should I be worried about something?”

Something miniscule had been itching throughout his body. Tempting himself to open his mouth and just say it. Just those words. Variations of them. “I'm falling for your ex-girlfriend. I'm falling for her. It's fucking insane, but I don't know how else to put it… Please don't be mad at me—”

“Our friendship is over. Stay away from her.”

“I swear I didn't mean for things to happen this—”

“You call yourself a friend? You fucking creep—”

“Please… I'll just stop. I don't have to tell her anything—”

“You and Xinyu?” she burst out laughing. You saw her almost spilling her mug off her table. “Fat chance, you fat—”

“It's nothing,” he could only answer her with a slight chuckle. “There’s nothing that she hasn't told you before…” just before adding, “Not that I know of.”

“That's nice,” she told him while she heaved a sigh. “Xinyu-yah really is feeling better. You had me worried there for a sec.”

“I’m just…” he heaved as well. He didn't want to make things worse. “I really hope things are doing better there, noona. I hope… We can see you more often soon.”

“Well… I'm not sure about that yet. Maybe, I'll check my schedule for a holiday… But I also hope things are great back there at home, Junghoon. Say hi to halmeoni for me, arasseo?”

Another breath of relief left his mouth, but he didn't know what to feel relieved about. “Of course! I will, noona. Take care...”

Maybe reconnecting with her was more than enough. Hearing how she still felt for her ex. But it kept bugging him, so maybe he could still do a last second to finally set it s—

“All right, all right…” Sohyun's eyes appeared less agitated. It's her usual calmness, even Junghoon could feel like he had said enough, based on her gaze. “Take care of yourself, Junghoon-ie. Kalke!” Sohyun waved at him from her screen. He waved back, the same time she ended the call a second later.

That was it. My only chance to admit the truth. Way to go, Geum Junghoon.

Okay… So that only went… Nowhere, Junghoon thought to himself. And yet, little did he realize that, maybe all his halmeoni, professor, Kotone, and even Nakyoung were all right about their insight. Maybe he shouldn't think of this as complicated as it should be. Perhaps everything simply leads to this. He had to face his own feelings, head-on, since by the end of the day, the worst he can receive is a no. Or a broken friendship, but he'd rather dial it back to getting a good ol’ fashioned rejection from Zhou Xinyu, and then negotiate for friendship, if that's even possible. Or don't, and just accept the consequences of his risky actions, even though he hasn't even made a decision yet.

He's had sleepless nights because of it. A young love like his should not be this complicated. He knew it's not love, but the feeling's enough to drive him crazy. He knew she was not taken or actively interested in anyone anymore. She made it clear she wasn't into dating or seeing anyone in general, but that's also none of his business.

But guilt kept crawling on his back with its piercing legs. His lungs were pumped up with anxiety before he could breathe out and speak with remorse. By the end of his talks, however, he realizes that things didn't have to be this difficult, if he just stopped thinking about those factors that paralyzes him. About Xinyu’s thespian folks. About the voices. About their differences. About Sohyun. The simple truth is, he just likes Xinyu, and if that's a crime, it is one that he’d be willing to pay and get punished for.

His phone vibrated. A text was sent from Xinyu herself. A surprise, to be sure.

[Meet me tomorrow after the booths close.] [Only if you're free.] [Are you free?]

Still unsure if it's a welcome one, however.

The typing icon from the other side kept moving whenever he tried to type something. Is she going back and forth with her messages? Three seconds later, they both stopped.

[Just reply if you're free or not.] [Please.]

He couldn't help but chuckle. Somehow, he's hearing her groan out of embarrassment from the other side of the screen just for typing another follow-up reply. Now, he began typing his response, realizing there was no other way from this mess he had made.

The only way was forward, and he just had to make and find the time for that. They have made almost every afternoon ever since Junghoon enlisted as her production assistant, to a mere fellow producer. The same walk. The same park she treated as a safe space.

They became good and reliable friends. There was no doubt from him about that. And in his hopeless spirit, tomorrow night might end it, now that Xinyu has probably made up her mind and contacted him for the first time ever since they've "ghosted" each other.

{I'm free tomorrow, noona.}

= = =

On the fifth night of the festival, Junghoon planned to check on his closest friends when he got a call from Xinyu, five minutes after wrapping up the Love Arcade Booth or the Jewelry Stand with their clubmates. She rarely called him, while he never called anyone unless necessary, and so he suspected she was serious in meeting him, reminding him of her text last night.

For this week, this was about the second time they’re spending time without the accompaniment of Mad Money Club, the Diamond Dreamers, or even his closest buds. Maybe it’s because of his promise to Sohyun as to why Junghoon rarely ever said ‘no’ whenever Xinyu asked for his sole companionship.

Up to this point, he hasn’t questioned why she would ask him, and only asked him to go with her to walks like this. The only question that was now lingering in his thoughts is why her presence started to make him feel things again, which is the last thing he wants to happen, especially whenever he’s with her—especially now that she finally was aware of his once hidden affection.

As per usual, they took a stroll across the local Keuri-go Park. Away from all the buzzes and ringing they’ve experienced throughout most of the week, they found time to relax within each other’s presence. Just the two of them around strangers minding their own businesses after sunset.

“So, Seoyeon-noona just texted that she, Soda-noona, and Hyerin-ssi were able to count a total of 857,921 won from our Love Arcade. That's not even counting our collab wit—”

“Aniya, aniya…” Xinyu aimlessly whisked her hand. “We agreed to finalize the whole costs and earnings by the weekend… But that's not why I texted you last night.”

“Oh… Okay.” This is it. It's bound to lead into this. “That's just a T.M.I. then.”

They just walked past the playground and the grand garden, when she was staring at her right palm and her fingernails. “I hope I didn’t ruin any of your plans tonight.”

“Aniya,” he affirmed. “Gwaenchanayo, noona. I didn’t really have much to do.”

“You and your buddies aren’t gonna hang out and celebrate?”

“Well, you called me first, so you must need my help with something.”

She started rubbing her hands together. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“We had fun in the past few days... We're mostly together the whole festival.”

“Why didn’t you hang out with them now then? Why'd you say yes to my text?”

“I guess you’re more important tonight,” he asserted, albeit coyly. “I haven’t got to hang out with you in a while, so when you hit me up, I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Her face was heating up, blushing pink. Such realization made her shiver beside him.

“What’s the matter, Xinyu-noona?” He, too, slowly noticed the sudden change of color on her face. Based on his observation, his mind immediately thought of the extreme. “Wait, did you drink before meeting me here? I told you not to—”

“No!” exclaimed Xinyu, startling even herself, before lowering her voice. “I’m sorry, but umm no, I’m not drunk. I can’t and shouldn’t, remember? Especially not for this.”

“And this is?”

“This is just—Arghh!” she groaned, upset with her own inability to say what her mind has been telling her for a while. “I’m not the best at expressing myself… On things like this. Just bear with me for a bit, mmm?”

Little did he know, she’s not that far off from feeling similar things. That night must’ve done more than just shake her up. It still lingers within her. In spite of her own internal embarrassment, she couldn't keep her eyes off him. She’s sober as a judge, but coming up with any logical and comprehensible response was something she was finding difficult to think of at this very moment. Yet there’s a rhythm that only she could hear inside her.

Dugeun. Dugeun. Dugeun. Dugeun.

Junghoon was oblivious, or just hesitant to predict her next words. “Things like what?”

“What you said last week. And before that.”

“Yeah?” His head tilted to the side. “I thought we’ve gone over that.”

“I don’t wanna keep beating around the bush,” she told him with a straight cadence. “Why am I like this?” she whispered the latter to herself, finally breaking her already crumbling walls of hesitation after letting out a shaky sigh.

He’s starting to feel a bit concerned by her strange behavior, unsure whether or not she answered his question truthfully. “Okay..?”

She raised her voice a little louder, more commanding. “You said you like me, right?”

Such a statement and delivery caught him off guard. But he couldn't make himself look like a fool. Just chill and shake off any tension. She will just turn you down. No biggie. Isn’t this what I wanted? Some kind of closure? Just don’t talk too much. As he was now flooded with thoughts, his mind started to panic, just as his heart was beating louder.

“I–I said that in the sense that I very much respect you, sunbae,” Junghoon stammered. Now, he's just lying poorly. “You know when you’re… I mean, who doesn’t—” But out of nowhere, he locked in on his cadence and straightened his posture. She already knows, and there's no point in taking everything back. “Let’s make it clear: who wouldn’t like you? You’re Zhou Xinyu. You're a likeable person, in general.”

She's flabbergasted. And kinda impressed. “And what made you like me? In general?”

“You’re a campus star!” he gave his first point, toughening his chest and his tone.

A little superficial for her, though. She raised an eyebrow. “You like me for my fame?”

“That's not what I mean, noona.”

But she wanted to hear more. “Then what else makes me generally likeable as a person?”

It seemed like she was simply quizzing him. Messing with him in a playful manner. And yet, the more and longer she listened, things were becoming much, much clearer to her.

“You are beautiful, confident, creative, hilarious, and responsible—”

“Hmmm… You're just listing traits. What makes me all of those?”

“Well… First off, you're not as cold or cunning as they say you are. You are cunning, but that's just your way of being confident, you know? That makes you admirable and umm, kinda cute, to be honest.”

She let out a chuckle. Her cheeks had been slowly reddening, but Junghoon just couldn't notice. He kept going, gave his all in what could be their final time in this peaceful place.

“Whether you're a performer or a part of the production, you showed how passionate you are, noona. You might be serious or strict at the crew at times, but you're like that because you care about the whole project. You care about them not wasting their own efforts by letting themselves keep slacking off…”

She was hearing parts about herself she wouldn't expect to hear, not from him, but her chest began to thump louder and louder. “Yeah? What else?”

“I really like that you don't care what anyone else thinks… You just do something when you set your mind into it. Even if life has been one big pain in the ass, you kept going…”

Her smile widened, as her eyes began to appear watery. “Go on…” And yet, she kept herself from tearing up. The water simply stayed in her eyes, making herself glisten.

He would've kept going even if she forced him. “You've always been approachable when your friends need you. Even if you're not in the mood, you always push yourself to be with them, because you know they’ve also been there for you when it felt the hardest.”

Dugeun. Dugeun. Dugeun, she just kept hearing it inside her. “I like you, Junghoon-ah.”

“And I really like it too when you’re being sincere and honest, just like—” A collective ding throughout the neurons in his brain shattered his trains of thought. “What?!”

Despite his mouth still being open, no words nor sound came out of it. His mind kept its guard closed with counterarguments of doubt and deflection. But his heart wasn't lying.

Xinyu kept her hands clasped, absorbing every once of the heat she might need to bear this cold spring breeze. “I’ve thought about what you said last time... And for a while now, I don’t think I can keep ignoring it anymore.” Junghoon hasn’t heard her sound this serious, not in a long time. Not when it’s just the two of them. “I like you, too.”

“What I said… But, how about you and Sohyun-noona—”

He knew Sohyun’s perspective the night before. But he felt too vulnerable to trust or assume anything else at the moment. Right now, he wanted to rid himself of his doubts. Her name had always shaken Xinyu, yet here and now, she didn't feel a single puncture.

“We did catch up with the rest of the girls, that’s true,” she began to clarify. “But even though we had a rough breakup, we talked things out and… I’m still happy for her as a friend. That’s it... Just don't think about her, Junghoon.” She took a step closer to him, making him take a deep breath at her gaze. “Not anyone else… Let’s talk about us, now. And consider this. Without anyone else.”

“Xinyu-noona…” he was still at a loss for words, yet she’s already in front of him with a look of yearning. He recalled Tone’s words, about fumbling his chance. Nakyoung’s risk taker view. Myungsoo’s all-in advice. The professor's cautiousness. His grandma's lovey dovey comparisons. He still didn't believe what he just heard right now. All his days of asking for words have led to this night. “Did you mean that? Do you really…like me?”

“Every word…” A soft smile formed on her face, yet her words kept going, spiraling into mixed inflections of distress, confusion, thrill, and elation, as she let her heart speak to him. “I thought we’d just be fine as friends and you are a great friend. But I don’t know, it’s just—Aish… I start to feel strange whenever you’re around, and I know it all sounds cheesy and high school-like and it is so unlike me! But whenever we hang out or touch hands. Or when I just… See you. And realize, I don’t hate that feeling… I just haven't felt that in a long time, but I never hated it, Junghoon… And, umm, I’m sorry that it took me a while to think things through, but, if you don’t like me any—”

Junghoon pulled her inches closer in a soft yet staunch embrace. In his arms, Xinyu’s eyes closed slowly, smiling, as she felt his soft and intimate warmth enveloping her in seconds. Her tempestuous heartbeat calmed down, yet it still fluttered on the same tempo and volume when she was still looking at him eye to eye moments ago.

“You took your time just right,” he muttered next to her ear. “I really, really, really like you Xinyu-noona.”

Xinyu's smile widened at his affirmed and repeated confession, before reciprocating his with her much longer arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him in closer. A little bit tighter, without discomfort. They didn't need anyone else tonight. Simply each other.

Walking around Keuri-go like last time in the middle of nine o’clock in the evening was nothing new to them. But now, the two finally feel and acknowledge the sparks between them. Their heartbeats are fluttering within each other’s presence. Smiling and looking away from each other whenever they ended up staring at each other’s eyes at the same moment. Yet they can’t help but interlock their hands while they giggle and chuckle in between the silence.

“Why…” he mumbled beside her ears, still curious. “Why’d you say yes?”

The woman turned to him with a face which he couldn't quite fully read, but it didn't come off as anything negative or hesitant. She only tightened her grip on his hand, wearing a soft smile which melted his heart. “Why not?”

He didn't know how else to answer her. No one could read minds, only his own. For weeks, he tried to figure out the complexity of his troubled mind and heart, like it was an equation that required the greatest minds or love gurus that he knew to solve it. Yet, all it took both to shut up was for Xinyu to tell him those two words. Nothing had followed inside his thoughts, although his heart continued to race. He kept looking at their hands, held together, swaying with the breeze of this one blossoming spring night.

With this realization, Junghoon felt a sensation he hasn't welcomed in a while. Not with someone else. He felt at ease. At ease of being infatuated with someone.

“Well…” He took his time to process things a little longer, but there was no other alternative to this scenario. This was real. “I can't say it's not unexpected, noona…”

“Oh, you know… I just wouldn't want to leave you hanging.”

“Wait… Don't tell me you were actually super shy just seconds ago and now you're being all like this.”

“Shut up,” she giggled in embarrassment, quickly covering her face in their tangled hands, much to his surprise. “I didn't prepare a script for that!”

She still managed to make him laugh, even though she's more determined to be vulnerable to him. With him. No matter how new this experience may be for both of them. It's one thrilling leap she had taken with him.

“I didn't mean to avoid you the whole week… I just… I wanted to think, feel, and be with myself for a while.”

“Oh…” So that's why. “Right.” She had her own decision to make.

She placed her palm on his cheek. “I didn't mean to shut you out, Junghoon-ah…”

Aside from the time he took her home after her drunken mess, he had rarely seen how she's feeling, how she barely expressed her true self. And now that they're “trying this out,” this must be his chance to do better by her. To pay more attention to her beyond the now broken window of their friendship, as it's grown into something much bigger.

“Gwenchana, noona…” He rubbed her temple with his thumb, gently. “I didn't take it that way either. You have every right not to rush anything… I'm happy you took your time.”

= = =

“So,” he broke their silence. “Are you going home now?”

Xinyu squinted her eyes and lowered her head, pouting her lips. “Do you want me to?”

“No, no!” he panicked at her suspicion. “It’s just… You know, it’s late. Your parents and Mr. Yi or any of your other bodyguards might be looking for you around this hour. We’re not even on campus. Wouldn’t they be worried if you haven’t gotten home early?”

Xinyu chortled. “You’re kinda cute when you become so defensive.”

“I’m serious, noona.”

She pecked his cheek, leaving him flustered. “Don’t worry about them… They’ll know I’m just out with friends, because I told them it’s still the festival on our campus. So, because of that…” She caressed his face. “Let’s just stay here for a while, hmm?”

Junghoon smiled at her gesture. “With a sweet voice like that, I can’t really say no.”

“Oh yeah..?” She leaned closer into his face. “What if I use this voice instead?”

Surprised by her advances, he inched away, though he still keeps his hands interlocked with hers. His reaction confuses her at the same moment, with her mouth slightly open.

“Noona!” he panicked for a second time. “I’m sorry, I just… I’m a bit nervous, even though I shouldn't because, you know?”

The surprise on her face quickly turns into a smile. With their hands together, she pulls him in a little closer. Her eyes easily level with his with endearment, and it’s no surprise considering they’re almost the same height.

Xinyu maintained her sweet and sultry tone. “Because what? Mmmm..?”

Junghoon gulps and gives a peck to Xinyu on her left cheek for a moment, like she did to him earlier, before inching a foot away from her. And once again, she's caught off guard.

He looks down in embarrassment at his attempt, but takes another breath to speak out. “I’m a man, and I should take initiative first.”

Xinyu giggles. “Silly… I never knew you had an old-fashioned side in you, Junghoon-ah. Come here…”

There's a little bit of tugging between them. Xinyu held each of his cheeks with her palms, the coldness melting away once they made contact with his warm face. In her gaze facing his, she cooed at his hesitation. Her gentle touch was enough to calm and tell him, Don't be afraid. Trust me. Touch me.

She pulled him closer to her, leaning into his face as she closed her eyes with a smile. Their lips touched for the first time. Junghoon’s eyes widen at her dauntless advances, but the electrifying sensation he’s now feeling only encourages his eyes to close in the process. Feeling each other’s spark through their kiss, he reciprocated Xinyu’s yearning with his own burning passion towards her, as he slowly leaned down for her to hold him. With their hands still holding each other, their lips subconsciously move along to the throbbing beats of their hearts. At that moment, everything around them seems to have frozen except for them, as their shared sensation is warm and sweet.

After a few seconds, their lips part to catch their breaths. Smiles appear on their faces, not wanting to take their eyes off each other.

Such a new experience left him dumbstruck. “Wow…”

“How was it?” She anticipated his answer with a warm smile.

“I think…” he couldn't hold his laughter. “I couldn't think. I may need to assess it again.”

Xinyu chuckled at his remark and gave a peck to his lips. Junghoon stared at her and the two went in for a deeper and longer kiss. With their eyes closed once again, Junghoon puts his arms on her waist while Xinyu wrapped hers around his neck. Yearning for each other without the concept of an end.

But their lips would still part to catch one’s breath, and yet, they still lean into each other and melt into each other's sweet and snuggly embrace.

“Are you sure you're not going home yet?” he asked her again.

She pondered. “I’m not sure I want to yet. Unless we can go somewhere else…”

“Where?”

“Can we like umm… Maybe hang out somewhere else? I was thinking if we can head back to campus, but I doubt it’s still open.”

“I don't think halmeoni is home yet. She usually goes out of town with some of the neighbors during weekends, so…”

After their walk, they ended up taking a fifteen-minute bus trip to Junghoon's residence. The fresh couple hung out in the living room, sitting right next to each other on the red couch while the television played a variety show in the background. They held hands, as they have been doing so for the past half an hour and stared through the windows of each other's souls.

Tonight, they were simply too both irresistible to each other's charms as they can't help but keep hugging with every opportunity they get, echoing their loud, resonating heartbeats. They took turns giving each other a loving peck on the lips or cheek or forehead.

“This feels sweet… I never knew you'd be this sweet,” Xinyu leaned into his shoulder.

He smiled at the sight of her comfort, one he'd never expect to feel. “Neither did I.”

“About me? Or yourself?”

“Both… I guess. I thought you’re more—” he bursts into laughter.

She laughed with him. “Yah, Geum Junghoon! I’m not that aggressive!”

They laughed off her response, yet they exchange looks of genuine curiosity in the moment that follows. A side of her that he rarely saw. Not personally, anyways, but it alarms him.

“Unless…” she leaned closer. “You want me to be. Hmm..?”

Junghoon gulped in an instant, feeling his lips and throat already dry. Yet, instead of him backing away from Xinyu, he took her into his arms once again, much to her surprise.

“Maybe we should take things slow…” he whispered. “If that’s okay with you, noona.”

He kissed her first this time, to her surprise. She fell for his charm nonetheless. It’s a side of him that Xinyu or anyone else has never seen before. Upon opening their eyes once again, she looked at him in disbelief, her eyes sparkling at his sudden advances.

She felt her heart burning, melting during their moment. “Junghoon-ie…”

“Just not too slow,” he clarified.

She hit him in the shoulder and giggled, before pulling him into her lips once again. His thoughts shut off, letting his senses and desire take over for this miraculous moment.

= = =

so, yeah... this part is just an extra yap session, so feel free to skip to the end if you're not interested.

I've made "some" additions I'm not sure I'm happy adding, but I'll just be content with this final version. maybe it's a little rushed cos of the time jump, but I did my best to justify and lengthen the whole falling for each other bit as much as I could. the pairing may come off as a little strange (idk), or at least the lead-up to it is, but maybe that's just how it's meant to be. not everyone will like them together or have to like them.

anyways, I just wanna yap a little about the controversy weeks ago. feel from to skip. It was honestly disappointing, of course, but I'll keep on writing for tripleS. I'm not defending their statement, but I think it's best that you don't look up to idols for their politics. celebrities are also people, and they can have diff opinions or be wrong about things based on their own privilege and upbringings. it's tricky, but we can only hope that things don't get any worse than that and, you know, they can improve and get better in time, just like we should, too, with ourselves. I guess, that's just the optimism in me. they're amazing artists, and they've done a lot of good too.

also, this is an au, take it as it is. it's basically escapism, as much as it's also a heightened reflection of reality. there are deviations from our world, good, bad, and in-between... if you want, we can just assume she never had that stance in this universe, as early as this point. okay, I'll stop right here.

A woman wearing a backpack has been waiting in a hallway right outside the comfort room. She saw her friend rushing towards him, while on her right hand, the handout brochure she received eleven minutes ago wrinkled more and more, thanks to her tightening grip.

“Tone-yah!” the man shouted with relief. “There you are, thank goodness.”

“Junghoon-ah!” she called him, hurrying and somewhat in her voice, especially as she saw him already sweating. “Where the heck have you been? I thought we’d meet here.”

“I’m sorry for taking you so long. I, uhh, I just asked someone to be our guide,” he pointed to the direction beside him with his thumb.

“You just went to someone?” Concern started to radiate from her voice.

“Yeah, and I think he’s a senior who can help us out.”

“You think?” her eyebrow automatically raised slightly, as with her cadence.

“I guess… “ he surmised. “He definitely looks like a sunbae. He’s wearing a gwajam.”

“You should've just waited for me. I was in the restroom for like only five minutes, before you went all Seoul searching on our own campus like some tourist.”

“Well, I panicked, arasseo?” he raised his hands in defense. “I just found him along with a bunch of other students, but he’s the one who stepped up… And besides, he’s willing to assist us. So whatever the case may be, he may know a lot more stuff than we do.”

“You didn’t have to bring anyone, Junghoon!” she couldn’t stop herself from freaking out. “We could’ve toured the campus by ourselves and everything would've been just fine. It’s not like we’re already late or anything… Isn’t that why we went here early?”

“Calm down. But yeah, that’s… A good point,” he scratched his head. “But maybe we should hear him out first. Give him a chance first… We gotta respect our seniors.”

A groan left her mouth, just as a tall man in his university jacket approached them with a welcoming beam. Kotone watched Junghoon as he bowed to him in sight, prompting her to follow his gesture, but with less enthusiasm and more caution towards the older student.

“Annyeonghasimnikka!” he greeted them with his hoarse yet cheerful voice. “I’m Kim Myungsoo.” He turned to Junghoon for a second. “You told me you have a little trouble navigating around campus.” His eyes then met Kotone’s. “So I assumed that both of you are freshmen.”

“Ne,” Junghoon politely answered him. “I kinda also assumed you were a senior, but I am really sorry if I got the wrong impression.”

“I’m actually a sophomore, but don’t worry, ‘cause I’m actually flattered.” he chortled at his own nonchalant response. “And of course, I’d be more than happy to help you… It is orientation day, after all... But, do you mind me asking what your names are?”

“I’m Geum Junghoon,” he bows, before turning to the woman. “And my friend here is…”

In her eyes, his face looks like he’s a model or a young actor who played either a main or supporting role in a romcom college drama. That might have been too specific, but that’s just how Kotone thought about him that morning. Watching romcoms in her spare time was an undeniable factor to that mentality. She didn’t know whether to be enticed or intimidated—or both—by his striking looks, towering stature, and courteous approach. But she might have been staring at her for too long. She should be saying something to him now. She should’ve because they’re now looking at her.

“Koton—” she hesitates at first, making the senior and her friend lean their head to the side while the former lets out a low, huh? Correcting her error within milliseconds due to internal panic, she clears her throat. “Mianhaeyo. My name is Kamimoto Kotone.”

“Oh! You must be Japanese then?” Myungsoo guessed, almost with a higher pitch, something that fascinated the woman because of his reaction. “An exchange student?”

“No. I'm just living here with my relatives,” she corrected him, before following up with, “But you are right about the first one. I was born and raised in Japan.”

“Ah… It’s nice meeting you, Junghoon and Kotone,” he bowed down to them. “First things first, welcome to Seoul State University.”

“Kamsahamnida, sunbaenim,” Junghoon professed as he bowed back, compelled by his habit of being respectful towards him. Too respectful, as Kotone would think, even though she herself bowed much lower this time.

“Oh, that's fine. It's my pleasure to help out more of our Seoulmates, you know?”

Suddenly, Kotone laughed through her nose.

“So, now… On more pressing matters, what are you guys majoring in?”

“Tone’s from the College of Education,” Junghoon answered. “I’m from Tourism and Hotel Management.”

“I'm also from Education!” Myungsoo applauded his answer. “Seems like we already have something in common then, Kotone-ssi. Plus Junghoon’s building is only right next to ours, so that'll be convenient for both of you.”

Junghoon nudged her left shoulder with a smirk. “You still regretting my decision? You've got yourself a new friend!” he mumbled while they followed his trail.

She scoffed at his retort. “Fair enough. He's fine… You did good.”

“And Junghoon,” the upperclassman turned to them. “I’ve actually met someone from your department. His name’s Lim Honggi. Does the name sound familiar to…”

As the two had a conversation, Kotone’s attention towards Myungsoo grew from the moment forward. After several minutes of strolling around the nearby locations, they arrived right in front of the building of Junghoon’s department. It was like Tone was a protective noona sending off a younger sibling to go on his own (they're the same age), even though Junghoon insisted that they go ahead, right after bowing to Myungsoo out of gratitude.

“Do you mind if I take you there as well?”

Such a question struck Kotone with panic, but not enough to trigger a fight-or-flight response. Instead, it let her own guard down. “Oh… Uhh… You don’t have to do that, sunbaenim… Don’t you have a class to catch up to?”

“In about thirty minutes, yeah… But we’re heading to the same building anyway,” he pointed out. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, right!” she exclaimed out of the sudden, slowly pursing her own lips out of embarrassment.

“Unless you’re uncomfortable, then I can just leave you alone. I’m sure you know your way to your room. It’s just that—”

“No!” she exclaimed again, even though she knew he was right. “I still have half an hour before our first class, so it’s fine, really.”

That was the start of their something.

“Myungsoo-yah!” Someone calls him with a teasing tone as he approaches them. “There you are! The council told me you were busy briefing freshies… Speaking of which.”

“Yeah… They were right,” Myungsoo quipped.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’ll be on my way—”

“It’s okay, sunbaenim,” Kotone assured both of them.

“This is Park Yeonghwan,” Myungsoo proceeded with the introductions. “My classmate and friend. This is Kotone. She’s a freshie.”

“Annyeonghaseyo,” Kotone bowed to him. “It’s nice meeting you, sunbaenim.”

His mouth opened, as if he had heard a spell leave her mouth. “Kotone? Are you—”

“Yes, she is Japanese,” Myungsoo stopped him, right as Kotone was about to open her mouth. “You get the point, dude… She must be tired hearing that from everyone else.”

“Gwenchanayo, sunbae,” Kotone stepped in. “But, he’s right. About the Japanese part.”

Yeonghwan chuckled at his interjection, but Kotone herself felt a tug at her heartstrings. “She said it’s fine. Don’t be too defensive, hyung.”

“Hyung?” she tilted her head. “Wait, I thought both of you are sophomores.”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Yeonghwan confessed. “He’s a year older than me.”

Within seconds, she did some mental math for an educated guess. “So that makes you, like, twenty years old?”

He didn’t answer her directly. “I hope that doesn’t make you more uncomfortable.”

A few realizations crossed her mind. Seeing someone was the last thing she wanted right now. There was more to this interaction than just attraction. After all, she's been friends with Junghoon since middle school. Befriending a guy is not a big deal for her. Kotone only chuckled at his hesitation. “It doesn’t… I actually think we’ll get along just fine.”

“You think so?” both guys asked in unison, somewhat bewildered and impressed by her sudden surge of confidence.

“Yeah,” she cheered on. “It’s a good conversation starter for a lot of people I meet, so I can't blame them for that.”

“Phew…” Yeonghwan let out. “That’s nice to know—” he felt a buzzing in his pocket.

“You good, man?” Myungsoo inquired as he and Kotone watched Yeonghwan quickly read his screen within seconds.

“Oh, yeah… I gotta dip, man,” he informed, still holding his phone in his hand. “The council needs me for another meeting. Something about plans for the homecoming festival. But,” he turned to Kotone with a sly smile. “I won’t be giving away too much. It is for the freshies after all...”

“Do they need more help or—?”

“Nah, nah, I got this! We got this,” he reassured him. “They know you're on tour guide duties for the rest of the morning, so you keep doing you.”

“Oh… Okay, then. I’ll catch up with you guys later at class.”

“Sure. Later, hyung!” He turned to the freshie and bowed to her one more time. “It’s nice meeting you, Kotone-chan.”

She bowed back as Yeonghwan walked away from them. “Forgive me for him being a bit too casual,” Myungsoo let out a chuckle.

“Nah, it’s okay, sunbaenim.” Her smile widened. “I kinda like that kind of approach. I gotta admit, it’s pretty refreshing meeting someone new. Someone who isn't just from my own class.”

A smile also formed on Myungsoo’s face before looking at her yellow backpack. There’s three keychains he noticed in his glance. The lowest zipper contained the head of a red lesser panda. The one in the middle was a Sanrio character, whose name he definitely didn’t remember at the time. All he knew was that it was a punk rabbit, wearing a black hat with a pink skull. However, the uppermost one was an odd yet captivating design, dangling around the top zipper. Due to the chain resembling tulips, one would think of it like a twisted looking flower… Until, he realizes it’s a mouth.

“Hey… “ Myungsoo couldn’t help but point his finger. “That’s a pretty cool Demogorgon keychain!”

He knows what it is? She realized, turning her head in his direction. “Oh, thanks! It helps pickpockets rethink their decision.”

The sophomore let out a laugh. “That’s actually a nice strategy. No one wants to be taken in the Upside Down unless you’re the Mind Flayer. Or Vecna.”

“So, umm, you watch Stranger Things too?” she asked him with eyes of intrigue.

“Yeah, yeah!” he hollered, just as his enthusiasm gradually lowered. “Well, I loved the first two seasons.”

“Just the first two?” she raised an eyebrow, albeit mischievously.

“The third season’s a bit meh for me, to be honest,” he answered with a light shrug. “But the new one is still growing on me.”

“That’s an interesting take,” she professed. “I'm sure they're not as questionable as your anime takes? Or are you not a fan of one?”

Her playful taunt allured him, making him cross his arms. “Oh, don't hesitate to test me, Miss Kamimoto. I think you'll be surprised.”

Mutual interests were only the start. As both the seasons and semesters passed, they would live and learn that they have a lot more things in common than once thought. More things to talk about. More to bond over.

= =

Sophomore year, first semester. The two were at the garden when a flock of birds flew out the trees hearing her sudden burst of scream. Thankfully, no one else was there. At least no one who cared enough to pay attention.

“Junghoon got himself in trouble,” Kotone would often confide in Myungsoo. Perhaps this moment was one of the most serious talks they had with each other, even though it’s only been a year since they met.

“What? How did it happen?” He was just as confused, considering how he’s treated Junghoon as a younger brother. “He didn’t tell me about any problem in his class.”

“Of course he wouldn’t…” she grumbled. “That’s how he’s always been… But Honggi told me about it, and right when I confronted him about it, he brushed it off and told me not to worry! Like, how can I not worry about that?”

Myungsoo could feel the emotions beyond the surface of her irritation, one that she’s been trying to suppress while around him.

“He’s become a pushover. Again, ” she sighed. “Ugh… Why is he still like this?”

“Did his teammates threaten him?” he began asking his questions of concern.

“Worse,” she admitted. “It was a pair project, and he did it all by himself!”

Hearing the situation dwindled down his tension, though his worry for Kotone and Junghoon persisted. “So… No one threat—”

“No one threatened, or appeased him!” her voice elevated again. “Yeah, you got that right. His professor doesn’t even know, and it looks like it'll stay that way.”

“Maybe he has a reason,” he considered. “Was the partner sick? Or maybe they had an emergency? I know Junghoon isn't the most confrontational guy but I doubt he’d keep letting a classmate be a freeloader, especially on a pair project.”

“I don’t know… He said his sunbae was busy with her organization and that he used her references, but that’s not enough.”

“Sounds like he felt bad for her too.”

“I feel bad for him!” she countered.

“I am worried for him, too… But like you’ve said, he didn’t get punished for it. He didn’t even feel bad for what he did, even if, I had to admit, it was a bit too far that he did the project all by himself. He’ll be fine, Tone-yah… We can talk to him tomorrow.”

“Who is he even trying to impress in that situation?” she countered him. “He’s one to be interested in relationships.”

“Well,” he let out a chortle. “I guess, there’s a first time for everything.”

“Maybe, but I’ll still be keeping an eye on that Park Sohyun.”

“Wait. Park Sohyun’s his partner? That’s odd. And a bit reassuring for Junghoon.”

“Why? Do you know her?”

= =

Sophomore year, second semester. It was after class when Kotone asked Myungsoo to meet her outside their building. He could whiff a much stronger perfume the more she walked closer. Her loud voice would call out to him right after. “Oppa!” Especially with her outfit of a fit aesthetic shirt under a denim jacket (and not to mention her soft blush, mascara, and a warmer shade of lipstick), he almost mistook her for someone else for a second. “Thanks for meeting me here.”

“You look…” He stopped his sentence halfway, still in spectacle at her somewhat new look and style. “Fancier. You look fancier than usual. What’s the occasion?”

“Well…” she fixed her hair in front of him, inciting a quick gulp from Myungsoo, but not enough for her to hear it. “I’m going on a blind date with three of my friends and their companions tonight, and I want you to be there too with us.”

He placed his palm on his chest, dramatically leaning away from her. “Are you really inviting me to this just now? Without further notice?”

“Yeah, don’t you wanna be my plus one?” she held his hands. “They will like you, oppa. I’m sure you’ll get along with their plus ones too. Some of them are around your age.”

The longer she stared closer to him, her eyes slowly sparkled. He couldn’t even say ‘no’ for some dumb reason. “This is a bit too sudden, Tone.”

“Please…” her tone started to shift into a more cutesy one, as if she’s doing an aegyo. Or maybe that’s just how he often saw her face. He saw her new hair style. While a low bun isn’t anything new for Kotone, seeing it up close astounded Myungsoo. “It was pretty urgent. And I didn’t have anyone else to ask to come with me.”

He scoffed in disbelief. “Really? There’s no one else? A social butterfly like you?”

“Yah, I’m just a social caterpillar,” she quipped back. “If someone between us is the butterfly, it’s you, Mister Vice President of the SSU Visual Arts Organization!”

“That’s a fair point, but that’s hardly relevant, when you’re the one who asked me out on this…” he shot back. “Why didn’t you think of anyone else from the gang? Or even from your own block?”

She knew he was right, but she didn’t wanna give it up just yet, so she kept firing more reasons and excuses. “I thought of asking Yeonghwan-oppa or Honggi, but they seem like they do that by themselves anyway. I considered Junghoon, but he’s still busy on his shift tonight. And besides, this is the only time I’ve asked a favor, like c’mon...”

“I guess that’s true.” He sighed in resignation. In the silence of Kotone’s anticipation, he slowly slid his fingers through his hair before finally facing her. “Fine… But, I’m only going ‘cause you asked. But only this ti—”

Kotone squealed. “Gomawo, oppa! That’s a deal, alright? The meetup won’t be that far from here.”

= = =

Vacation, pre-junior year. Since their dorms were the closest to the university among best friends, they decided to meet on campus after lunch. It was a Saturday morning when Kotone had returned to Korea after a one-month vacation to her hometown.

“I know I’m a few days late,” she pulled out a pair of small silky bags from her pocket. “But, saengil chukhahaeyo.”

With eyes of curiosity and anticipation, Myungsoo inspected the bags. It took him a second to guess the gift, but he was familiar with it. They're omamori. Two of them. Red and pink. Considering he wasn’t too knowledgeable of Japanese, Kotone briefly explained the writings to them. “That’s a kenku, and that one’s an en-musubi.”

“What do they mean?”

“Kenku’s for good health and long life. Cliche, I know,” Kotone giggled, before she took a swift deep breath, though he barely noticed. “But the en-musubi is for finding luck in love.”

He slid his fingers on each, feeling the smooth texture of the charm, mesmerized by their design. “Woah… This looks legit. I mean, you know, it’s pretty. It’s authentic.”

She chuckled at his observation. “Of course, it is. I bought that in Meiji Jingu. I actually bought each two for you and the boys, but I decided to give yours first.”

“I-uhhh… I don’t know what to say… Gomawo, Tone.”

“You’re welcome, oppa… That’s for the Orbit merch you gave me.”

“Those were your birthday gifts… You deserved that.”

“You better not lose these within a year,” she added with more emphasis, staring at the two charms.

“I'll do my best. Especially for the love charm,” he teased, which only provoked the woman as her eyes squinted at him in an instant. “My love life is now in your hands or something.”

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, as he looked down on both charms on his hand, caressing it with affection. “I won’t lose it, of course. They’re good charms… But if something does happen to these, which I won’t allow anything to happen to, you’re still gonna be my good charm, you know?”

Kotone felt a gulp on her throat. She chuckled nervously. “Flatterer.”

“That’s just the truth,” he justified himself. “You and the guys have always been my charms since we got together.” He faced her with a serious gaze and closed smile, putting his right hand on her left shoulder. “I couldn’t be more grateful for that.”

Dugeun… “Myungsoo-oppa.” Dugeun…

“And look who’s back!” A familiar male voice yelled from behind, startling only the woman. It’s Yeonghwan, with Honggi and Junghoon, right beside him, as they all rushed to the pair behind the bench with excitement.

“Kamjagiya!” Kotone did not expect their presence, which only elevated her heartbeat. “Guys! What the hell? I thought y’all won’t be making it today!” She turned to the quiet one among them. “Junghoon-ah, you even said that you’re working at the CVS today.”

“Well, actually… The boss told me I can take one day off during the weekend until summer break ends,” he explained. “Plus, why would we ever miss your arrival?”

“So the three of you just planned this surprise without telling me?”

“It’s actually our plan,” Myungsoo revealed. “All of us wanted to surprise you.”

“Oh… Well, that’s a bummer… I would’ve brought the rest of your gifts.”

“That’s okay… The gifts can come later.” Honggi started to make circle motions with his hand on his tummy. “You’ll make it up for us some other way.”

She and Myungsoo laughed at his subtle suggestion, knowing well what he meant. What they all meant. She breathed through her nose. “Where do you guys wanna have lunch?”

Cheers erupted from the three, making her laugh more and widening her smile at the reaction and sight of all her closest friends, who gathered with her.

= = =

Junior year, first semester. The campus had been set up with dozens of different and unique booths, as plenty of clubs and organizations had prepared them in the past week. So far, the week-long university festival has been going well on its third day. From arcades and treasure hunts to readings and talent shows, hundreds of students and visitors stroll and explore the university from seven to six… And it was no different for these two. Myungsoo was holding a small bouquet of flowers in his hand as Kotone was holding a stuffed toy bunny while they walked across the crowd.

“You finally tried that spirit animal booth yet?” Myungsoo wondered.

“Oh, yeah!” she clapped on the bunny toy with her left hand as if she were a seal with flippers. “That was the funnest one I’ve had so far... They really made a lot of effort making that one, so I applaud them.”

“More than your own club’s booth?” He teased her with the question.

“Well,” she had caught his intention, prompting her to raise the confidence in her delivery. “Nothing else beats our treasure hunt, of course, so it’s a close second… Maybe I’ll consider the Lyrical Booth too some other time.”

“Oh…” his mouth slowly opened in anticipation. “Are you finally gonna be showing your rapping skills at the workshop? While at it, why not join the talent contest too—”

“Yah, I’m just considering!” she reacted with remarkable alertness. “Don’t be too excited. It might not even happen, if you keep on prying.”

“Why not?” He opened his arms wide, much to her slight embarrassment. “I can be your hype boy!”

Her eyes moved to the side, staring at him. “You mean hype man?”

“Yeah, yeah. My bad… I got it mixed up from that song from last year.”

“It’s fine…” she brushed off. “What’s what the Noraebang Booth does to you anyways. They got a lot of bangers since yesterday, so I can’t blame ya.”

“But I’m still wondering, what was your result on the animal test from earlier?”

“Oh, yeah… As expected, I’m a lesser red panda! Nothing new there,” she exclaimed. “How about you?”

“Eh…” he huffed. “I really don’t wanna mention it.”

“Oh, come on. That’s not fair,” she nudged him on his left shoulder. “Are you keeping things from us more because you now have—”

“Myungsoo-yah! Tone-chan!” A woman walked towards them. One who has been both familiar to them since the past and a half year. “There you are!”

“Annyeong, Yooyeon-unnie!” Kotone waved at her, witnessing both her friends meet.

“I just had a walk with Tone,” Myungsoo walked closer to her, holding her hands with exhilaration. “You shouldn’t worry about me too much, noona.”

“Yah… I told you not to call me that,” Yooyeon lowered her voice. “Not in front of everyone, anyways.” She turned to Kotone. “And thanks for looking after him… Tone-chan. You must’ve been exhausted keeping up with all his yapping.”

“Hey,” Myungsoo interjected, embarrassed by the woman’s remark.

Kotone chortled. “That’s no problem, unnie. He was being less chatty this time…” She poked his left elbow. “So that made things a little easier for me. And himself.”

“Hmm… That's unusual for my boyfriend.” She leaned closer into him, speaking her breath closely while he exhaled a smile with excitement. “Maybe I shall give him a better, more thorough check up inside our booth?”

As she witnessed their sweet and suggestive moment, Kotone felt a sensation travel down her spine. Her heartbeat increases, seeing their faces only an inch away from each other’s. Her fingers clenched as her smile tightened as their lips touched. “I, uhh, I’ll go look after Junghoon and Honggi at their booths. You two just have fun, alright?”

“Are you sure you don't wanna tag along with us?” Myungsoo tried to talk her out.

“And be a third wheel? Ah, no thanks,” she scoffed with a more playful undertone. His persistence to make her stay somewhat struck a nerve, but she didn’t mind it for long. “You two rarely get the chance to hang out since preparation week. Look, unnie, he even got you a mini you. Those flowers weren’t enough for him.”

“Awww… You got these for me?” Yooyeon cooed at Myungsoo, taking both gifts as they embraced.

He accepted a kiss from her on his cheek. “I just thought since it’s the festival, it’d be a nice way to help one of the arcade booths and bring you something at the same time.”

“You and your excuses, babe. And of course, you’re welcome to tag along with us, Tone-chan...” the older woman quipped to Kotone, letting out a giggle beside Myungsoo. “Who else knows better than us than our own matchmaker?”

Flattery was what she felt. At least, it should have been her only reaction. Yet it's only the surface. A convincing cover to what her heart was telling her… “I’ll be fine on my own. You two can pay me back by setting me up with someone, arasseo?”

“I'll be on the lookout, girl.” Yooyeon forms her fingers in the shape of a gun. ”You can count on me for that. I know a lot of fellas from our class, so just take your pick.”

Tone adored that her close friend was acting like that. She liked that both her close friends were happy. She did. She should.

“Sure, unnie…” she snorted. “Alright, now I really gotta go. Take care, love birds…”

But there was no point in ruining their moment by reminding them of their presence. By reminding herself. There’s nothing to gain from it. Nothing to gain from thinking about this longer than it should. She turned around and faced the crowd while still wearing her smile when she heard her clubmate’s cheerful voice.

“Have fun, Tone-chan! We’ll be at our booth, okay?”

They’re happy. It’s all that mattered.

= = =

Junior year, second semester. Things got more hectic, academic-wise, especially with seniors like Myungsoo finally reaching their final semester. But, even for juniors like Kotone, a lot more doors of opportunities opened for her… And that’s what the latter assured her when they talked by themselves in one of the campus gardens. She was told it was urgent, so the woman waited at one of the benches until he arrived.

“You should run as auditor, Kotone.”

“Me?” Her eyes widened, even standing up from her seat. “For the student council? Michyeosseo?”

“Come, Tone-yah… It’s gonna be productive for you... You’ll get to demonstrate your skills and talents outside class. Outside your little diamond dreamer club. Plus, even Yooyeon thinks you should venture out too.”

“That's easy for both of you to say, oppa.”

“Take it from me. I may already be a senior, but that doesn't stop me from trying out other responsibilities. And I don't see why you wouldn't do the same.”

“Oh, so you’re guilt-tripping me ‘cause it’s your last year, huh?”

“No, no, no! You don’t have to run. But you know, just think about it. Just my advice.”

He could only wait for her in silence. While the leaves above rustled along the winds and the branches blissfully swayed. Clinging her right index and thumb on her chin, Kotone's mind gradually shifted into a more rational route.

“Hmm… Now that you’ve brought it up,” she pondered. “Maybe it will give me more experience. Perhaps, it’ll be a great addition to my resume…”

“Now we’re talking.”

“But that doesn't mean I'll actually run for real, arasseo?” she pointed her index finger at him. I'm just considering all my options carefully.”

= = = =

Senior year, first semester. Kotone gained more exposure and some connections after becoming elected as the auditor of the Education Department’s Student Council, even after Myungsoo finally graduated with flying colors. But, there’s one thing she or any student can’t escape from. And such a laborious reality was something that she often dealt with, by spending time at the library before or after class.

After taking off her glasses, she sighed on the surface of the table right next to the stack of books she had compiled. “Would be nice to have Junghoon, Honggi, and Yeonghwan with us… Why did all of them have to enlist at a time like this? Couldn’t they just have waited their turn?”

“Yeonghwan said he just wanted to get it out of the way,” Myungsoo pointed out. Yes, he was still there. “I'm thinking the other two just thought he had a point.”

"That's such a silly answer. But yeah, it is pretty reasonable, I guess.”

“Or maybe they're just avoiding making their own theses,” he added.

“That's what I was thinking!” she almost bursted into laughter, but not before muffling her mouth with both her hands.

Myungsoo giggled as softly as he could. “Don’t worry... You still have me, right? What better way to work on your thesis than to ask for advice from your sunbae. When the boys get discharged, they’ll regret not being here with us… At least two of ‘em will.”

“Eeeeehh... You're only here 'cause you just extended your teaching assistant job in the first place!” She gave him a light punch on his left shoulder.

“Yah… Just because it's true, it doesn’t mean it's easy for me either.”

“Oh, poor you,” she sneered with a sarcastic undertone. ”Gotta wait for your girlfriend while the rest of us hoobaes have it so easy with our thesis, don’t we? Not to mention, I still have a meeting with the council later this afternoon!”

“Just so you know, I don't regret being here as much as you want me to. And Yooyeon still has another hour before her class ends, so I have no other choice but to stay here for a while as you babble in front of your laptop… And I gotta make sure that you're not just slacking around or snoring on your table.”

His argument only made her snicker. There was no point in arguing with a friend. This friend. “Well, I give up, so I’ll just say it. Thanks for the support, even if it’s just you being here with me.”

They lock eyes for a moment. No quips, no banters. Just the traces of their smile, just before a thought crawled up their blank minds... This may be the last year they’ll see each other like this. At least, with just the two of them. Perhaps, that’s for the best.

“Anytime, Tone-chan… What are friends for?”

Especially because of that.

= = = = = = = = =

“One matcha latte for Changmin! Your order is now ready for pickup,” an automated voice calls out from the counter. A man, in his early twenties, stands up from his seat right after the call, parting from his friends for a moment to fetch his order.

It's 12:00 P.M., and the cafe is already flooding with customers, most of whom are students and professors on their break. The calendars on the kiosks state February 7, 2031. On their table, twenty-six-year-old Kotone has been facing a twenty-eight-year-old Myungsoo from her seat in the last half an hour, surrounded by their now almost empty disposable cups, their laptops, and distinct bags on the chair beside them. His eye bags are more noticeable than usual. He’s still tall, although his latest figure appears a little more “mesomorphic,” as she tries to describe it herself mentally, though it doesn’t bother her. It’s not uncommon to gain weight in their late twenties, what’s the big deal?

Thankfully, there was no sense of awkwardness in their atmosphere. Why would there be? They were close friends. They were there for each other at their highest and lowest points for more than four years. If his mere new look bothered her, then their friendship was all pointless and for nothing. Besides, there’s other reasons to be awkward about.

It ain't the first time she's seen him after graduation, thanks to social media and some social gatherings that she tried to avoid in the last few years. But, seeing him now, it's something else. Something that she can't describe, considering the fact she’s been paying attention to his face as much as she is to his words, probably a little more.

“This is a really, really big project… You really sure you wanna do this, Kotone?”

“You don’t have to do it with me. I can just write and send a request letter to the Dean instead, if they need any more proof or confirmation that we’re sincere about this.”

“No, Tone-yah,” he insists. “Since I already agreed to meet with you, I can handle that.”

“How about you, Myungsoo-oppa,” she asks him, her tone’s a mix between a playful intimidation, covering her slight hint of concern. “Do you think this is a lost cause?”

“Of course, it’s not a lost cause,” he reassures. “I wanna help you. Not just because I’ve been teaching here for four years now, but I believe why you wanna do this… Honestly, it’s not that selfish to think about making some reunion possible.”

Her eyes light up with optimism, contrasting her somewhat smug front. “Really?”

“Almost every alumni homecoming we’ve had were for middle-aged folks. Which is fine, no offense to them, but people our age often forget that we were students once too, back in the day. This is a chance for us to remind them that it’s okay to think about and yearn for those times. You don’t need to be in your forties to attend a college reunion… right?”

Her heartbeat slowly becomes louder. “Well…” She clears her throat. “That’s well said. I couldn’t have put it better myself. Besides, Yoon-daepyonim already had this approved, so it would really irritate her if this doesn’t go through.”

“I know you guys do galas for socialites and folks at corpo every year,” he scratches his chin slowly. “But I didn’t know ModHaus would also be into organizing alumni parties. Like, I don’t know if that’s like an upgrade or a desperate rebranding from them.”

“We’ll plan, organize, and host just about anything, if we think it’s worth planning,” she crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “We’re not called the company of all possibilities for nothing. And, we don’t just do it for corporations... Ever since she took over, we’re not like that anymore. For the better.”

“Well, I can’t deny that. But whatever the case is… Tell your boss not to worry too much…” He offers his left hand. “Let’s do well on this project, Miss Kamimoto.”

Such an act of formality from an old friend makes her giggle, a response that she tries to cover up by clearing her throat immediately after. Leveling her eyes with her friend, she holds his hand with her right. “Couldn’t agree more, Professor Kim. Let’s do our best.”

And as their hands shake through this meetup, the Reunion Party of Batch 2025-2026 has been set in motion throughout this month. Through weekly meetings, Myungsoo helps Kotone become acquainted with some of the current alumni committee of the SSU. Most were new faces, about a few years younger. Some were familiar, most of which were either older or the same age as hers.

“Kotone-ssi! It really is you. You barely aged a day.”

“Ne! Annyeonghaseyo, sunbae. And please, it seems that time has been kinder to you.”

“Sunbaenim!” another one approaches her. “It’s wild, and an honor, seeing you here, considering how blessed you are, working at one of the richest companies in Korea.”

“Nah, I beg to differ!” she humbles herself. “I wouldn’t even have gotten to ModHaus if I never spent my time here in Seoul State… The honor’s on me, knowing how passionate and dedicated you all are in helping to plan this event.”

“And just to assure you,” she added. “You will all be compensated for your service.”

Her reminder sparks wholehearted laughter and cheers from the committee. “We’re not doing this for money, Kotone-ssi… But just so you should know, we can’t deny that kind of promise.”

“Well, it’s finally settled then.” She claps her hand. “Hwaiting, yeorobun!”

The planning and execution would take a couple of months, perhaps a little longer than their timeframe, as both the representatives from Tone’s company and the SSU alumni committee would have to juggle between fulfilling their regular duties at their personal works and making this brand new event beyond merely possible.

“ModHaus will provide their services as much as they can, so don’t worry about asking our affiliates for help, everyone. This also counts as our project, after all.”

But what makes this period more than memorable for Kotone was not only the people she’s been reunited with. They are still at the preparation stages, after all. They would have team lunches here and there. Revisiting the university itself was the most special aspect for her, because of the memories it brought both of them back with each step in every stroll they took on campus before or after their meetings.

At noon, they bask in the sunlight, which, thankfully, is no longer as excruciating and dangerous to walk freely as it was years ago without the habitual routine of putting on some sunscreen during spring and summer. The pair would walk past the grass fields and the nearby blossoming gardens. Past the buildings old and new. There’s parts of themselves that never left. It was understandable for Myungsoo, but for Kotone, it’s quite eye-awakening to see her realization unfold with her eyes. From the students, professors, to the guests like her going on with their business. A group of friends chilling under the shade of the trees, inclining on the bench, with some lying even on the grass with no to little care about the dirt that just accumulated on their shirts and jackets.

She simply can’t take her eyes off her surroundings. With every live scenery to watch in a state of bliss, her gaze would find another to watch and appreciate. “I know a lot has changed since graduation, and yet, this place feels like yesterday.”

“Really?” Myungsoo teases her, following her gaze. “I honestly can’t tell the difference.”

“Yah, don’t ruin the moment…” she whines. “That’s ‘cause you’ve stayed here while most of us went our separate ways. Of course, you wouldn’t get it.”

He does. But he doesn’t say anything. Looking in her direction, he reminiscences much like her. “Hey, do you remember that time when we first hung out at these fields?”

Kotone now realizes that she underestimated him.

She thinks to herself, Maybe this is all just nostalgia. With all this ambition, maybe this is just me listening to my younger self, instead of focusing more and more at work and slaving myself to the executives, like I have always been.

“You know… If this doesn't end well, then consider it a cautionary tale for myself,” she admits her own misgiving, subconsciously opening and closing her hands in a sporadic pattern.

“It’ll go well, Tone,” Myungsoo senses the seeds of doubt already growing within her. “But, if it makes you feel any better, I'll join you on that lesson.”

She giggled, before sighing into the breeze. “Thanks, but I don’t know… I honestly just want to make this a reality for our batchmates. That’ll make me feel better. Besides, I made a bet with a few of my closest friends. Suhyeon, Kyubok, even Junghoon.”

He wants to comfort her—but hearing a familiar name is not something he’s heard in a while, but her last-second confession makes him laugh. “Junghoon’s doing well, I see… We rarely get to hear from the rest of the gang nowadays, and I only heard that he was the head chef at your company… But it’s actually nice to hear that from our youngest.”

She knows what he means, but she doesn’t want to ruin the vibe of their conversation. “Oh, he’s doing so much better, oppa… I actually want you to hear from him when the time comes. But that for now, all I can say is…”

Kotone begins to spill tea which astonishes Myungsoo. It’s only the start of this night. Bringing together scenes and sequences of memories from their collegiate past would continue to motivate them in making this event a reality, not just for themselves, but also for everyone else who will take part in this reunion.

= = =

March 2031. They start to spend more time meeting outside the university. On this day, the pair meet in a cafe outside the ModHaus building, which surprisingly enough, was Myungsoo’s suggestion. For once, he wants her to travel less, arguing that her anticipation for the reunion will wane if they keep meeting on campus grounds.

Straight from his backpack, he hands the woman a small box wrapped in a pink ribbon, which she opens. She’s in awe.

Kotone looks back at him. “What… What is this, Myungsoo-oppa?”

“Just a gift. It’s your birthday today, isn’t it? Saengil chukahaeyo.”

After a quick unboxing of the box, she gives the bottle a test spray inches away from her.

This isn’t just any perfume. This scent has brought her years of memories more vividly. Back to that afternoon. To a lot of afternoons. The garden. The flowers. It doesn't help since the man in front of her was mostly with her during those times. It’s not the exact same brand, but it’s enough for the woman to let out a sigh of longing, yearning for those moments even more.

“Wah…” she whiffs more of the scent. “I can’t believe it's been a long time since I've sprayed something like this.”

”Do you like it?” He remains reserved, even though he’s already seeing her reaction.

”How can I not? You're really making me excited about the reunion, you know that?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to…” he confessed. “But, if you think of it like that, then I’m glad that helped you be more pumped up for this event.”

Her eyes widen once again, only realizing now what he said earlier. “So, after all these times, you still remember my birthday, huh?”

“Yeah!” he cheers, nudging her shoulder. “Come on, Tone. What are friends for?”

Oh… A dart strikes her heart. Why is she feeling this? Why is she grateful, yet also hurt? Why does she feel that pang inside her? It’s nothing, a voice tells her. This isn’t the first time he’s given you a gift! “Oppa, this is too much. I don’t know what. How to repay—”

“You don’t need to repay anything. And just because you’re working hard, doesn’t mean you can’t have a little celebration. Most of our plans have been finalized! We’ve gotten this far thanks to you, so consider it as a reward.”

Maybe that’s enough. “Thank you for this, Myungsoo.”

She brushes this thought off with that self-reassurance. This thing isn’t about whatever she just considered in her mind. This is about the reunion. You’re being overdramatic around him. Just focus on your job now. “And speaking of finalized, I just have to ask again if you have proofread the whole invitation, haven’t you?”

“Yep, for the hundredth time. I’ve gone through the email. They did a great job with making it snappy and concise. They didn’t even use GPT to write those up.”

“Well, I trust your word… Let’s finally send it, shall we?”

“Of course, it’s your call, committee leader.”

“Stop,” she chuckles and with one deep breath, she takes one last scan of her invitation before hitting ‘send’ on the email with her index finger. Kotone braces herself for what’s about to come, looking back at Myungsoo as a reassuring closed smile forms on his face. “Let’s do our best, Tone-chan,” he raises his left hand, his fist closed.

His innocent face reminds her of a quote from a show that she watched decades ago. That damned smile. She reciprocates his gesture with her right hand with a chuckle, hoping to forget what she just felt earlier. Still, even that single bump of touching his skin sends a tingle through her veins.

= = =

April 2031.

Things got busier. Questions from invited guests build up. Scheduling conflicts between their sponsors and services begin to surface. With only a few weeks away, the committee has been doing their best, dividing their tasks in dealing with the problems step by step. On weekends, their responses to certain emails would take overnight.

“Let’s take a break first… We’ve done a lot tonight.”

Right as she closes her laptop, Kotone’s voice begins to crack. “O—okay…”

Myungsoo immediately sensed something’s off with her silence. He inched closer, slowly reaching his hand into her shoulder. “Tone-yah… Are you… alright?”

She struggles completing her words, completely giving into the chaos clashing in her heart and mind. “It's just… I miss them… It’s hard… to imagine… I just don’t want to disappoint them.”

Myungsoo has no words. Rather, he’s hesitant and fearful that he would only break her heart more than it already is. He doesn’t want to give false promises or high hopes, but he doesn’t want to let her down either. He listens to his heart, pushing himself to hold her shoulders, slowly wrapping his arms around them.

“I miss them too, Tone…” he mumbles, patting her on the back and caressing her hair as she lets out her tears in his embrace through a muffled whimper. “We’ll make this work, arasseo? I’m sure of it.”

= = =

On this Friday of May 2031, the reunion finally begins inside the Na Heedo Gymnasium.

And as they expected, not everyone could be there tonight. But the fact that more than a hundred invited guests arrived there has surpassed most of their expectations. Faces old and new dress up for the occasion, crossing paths with their old buddies from years ago.

The guests stand and stare at the spectacle that is the party. Hundreds of familiar faces, now several years older, laughing and grooving on the dance floor under the moonlight vibing at the playlist of Western and local pop music alike prepared by the DJ. It is still  several minutes before the program proper starts, allowing guests to keep bonding and being acquainted with each other inside or near the venue. Plentiful students, whether graduating or already graduates for a year or two, are present too, taking advantage of possible recruitment from their alumni, though they’d have to make some effort to get their attention, considering that fact that lot of alumni just wanted to party tonight by getting off some steam and escaping from their present.

“Tone-yah has really made it possible, huh,” Kim Chaeyeon shakes her head in amazement.

“I mean, it was like, almost four months in the making, right?” Kim Nakyoung wonders. “But damn. She really did it.” She claps her hand.

“Three months. But come on now,” Kotone herself joins them in a less formal dress. “It wouldn't be possible without y'all. There’d be no reunion without you guys and gals!”

“Omo, omo… Tone kudasai!” Lee Jiwoo hollers on. “The mastermind is finally here!”

“I just can't believe you and your committee managed to pull this off!” Dahyun cheers on, joining the huddle between women. “It paid off.”

She’s touched by their piles of praise. “Thanks for the compliments, y’all. I, uhh, I’m just really happy that you guys can make it here tonight.”

About four hours would go by, dozens of personal reunions take place not just inside the gymnasium, but also in the corridors, the outdoors, and even in the restroom. Let your imagination wild. Members of the committee would often check on each other, but for the most part, they’d only tell each other to enjoy the moment once their program had all wrapped up.

With nothing else to deal with, Kotone finds Myungsoo from a distance. Maybe it’s simply the magical atmosphere that the event has conjured throughout the campus tonight, but to her, it's like when she first met him during orientation week. Her heart tells her to do it. To walk up to him. Nothing can stop her now. Why keep hesitating.

Right as her eyes catch Yooyeon approaching him with two empty glasses in her hands.

She can feel her own heart pulling away, dragging down like an anchor with every beat. This isn't college, nor is it not high school either. Well, you definitely did not think this through, her ego tells her over the deafening gymnasium.

“So…” she hears someone else’s familiar voice from behind. “It still really is him. After all those years.”

She turns around. “I don't know what you're talking about, Junghoon-ah.”

“You don't have to tell me anything, Tone…” he snickers. “But, maybe it's better if you talk things out with him.”

“Nothing is going on, dude,” she keeps dismissing his claim with a smile. “And how about you and—”

“We're doing well, thank you,” he stops her, knowing well who she meant. “Worry about your own… I just don't want you to get hurt because you're keeping it to yourself… Go to him. Don’t think about it too much.”

And as he leaves her with an assuring smile, Kotone does. She takes a deep breath, maintaining her cool and shaking her worries and doubts to the side the closer she reaches the gap between Myungsoo and Yooyeon, even as they exchange laughter.

“Look who finally showed up… Koto-chan!”

= = =

It’s now an hour past midnight, inside the gymnasium, and only a few alumni and other guests have been hanging out, as they exit the hall and, on their way out, thank the ones who are still present there, the committee themselves, the two of whom are Kotone and Myungsoo. They’re now fixing everyone else’s mess, yet they do it with smiles radiating with contentment with the memories they made.

“I know the staff will be dealing with most of these in the morning, but I’d rather fix the mess we’ve made here.” Kotone places another chair on the fifth stack. “At least most of them. Wow, this is no joke.”

“Let me help you with that,” offers Myungsoo. “You’ve done a lot for tonight, you know.”

The woman has had the urge to ask him about what she saw earlier. It can just be a friendly curiosity, right? Nothing scandalous about it.

“Thanks for helping me out, not just with this, But you know… With everything.”

“Hey, don't mention it, Tone-yah,” he taps her on the back. “I loved planning this whole event as much as you did, but you're basically the MVP who made this fantasy real from the start.”

“Nah,” she objects. “It would have remained a fantasy if it wasn't for you, Kim Ssaem. You’re the one who’s still here.”

“I guess, but who knew the class officers of 2025 would still be here like we used to?”

“Not everyone from our officers got to be here, if you remember things clearly, but I guess… It’s best that we focused on who came tonight. Cherished the moments with those in front of us,” she pondered.”

“That… That couldn’t be more true.”

“The nostalgia must have gotten into you tonight as well, Mister Treasurer.”

“I didn't even know how to count money that well.” He laughs and shakes his head at her callback. “I can't remember why I even accepted the class’ nomination in the first place.”

“I wasn’t there, but I thought you did your job just fine.”

“That's because you were there with me, Miss Auditor!”

“Not when you were around,” she shoots back. “I wasn’t even there until your last year.”

“You helped me regardless. Plus, you did well on your own after I graduated. Balancing the council funds and your thesis… Now, everything paid off for you, Tone-chan.”

“Hey, at least you’re loving your job. Loyalty can get you somewhere, after all.”

“You don’t?” he queried. “You get paid like six digits for about half a year, if not more! You’re just as loyal to ModHaus as I am to our alma mater.”

“Well… That’s one thing I love about my job. I just wish I’d get to do other stuff, like I did planning this event, you know? Not that I wanna be an intern again or something, but it’d be nice to branch out to another department… It’s been a long time.”

“Have you ever considered applying for other positions in your company?” he suggested. “I doubt they wouldn't want to take your expertise for granted, because in the past three months, you’ve shown them what you’re capable of… You’re a woman of many talents, Tone.”

Dugeun. “You flatter so much, Myungsoo-oppa…”

“Yeah, but that wasn't a lie, was it?”

“Whatever. I am considering reaching out to the Event Management Team. Happy?” she spills to him. “They’re the ones who planned and executed the last ModHaus Gala, and, believe it or not, that inspired me to do this whole shebang.”

With that, some things start to make sense to Myungsoo. “They'll be lucky to have you.”

Unbeknownst to Kotone, her cheeks start to blush. “You and your words again, oppa!”

“I swear those are just my observations.”

= = =

June 2031.

Even after the reunion, the two still hang out. Kotone and Myungsoo still keep in touch, as the latter first suggested, even if they meet less this time. Around two to three times a week, they’d hang out after work with their mutual friends. Other times, it’s just the two of them, which is nothing new, much like tonight.

“Look who just got promoted?” is how she breaks the ice to him during this meetup.

“Seolma… That’s great!” By instinct, excitement fuels him to take her hands while the pitch of his voice goes up. “Chukahaeyo!”

His hand holding on to hers is evoking something strange, but not unfamiliar. Their eyes lock in silence with no exchange of banters, as they both get a feeling of déjà vu. However, such a moment doesn’t fill her mind with expectation, a juxtaposition with how heart is behaving in his presence. Kotone notices everyone else at the cafe giving them different looks, something that doesn’t seem to faze the man in front of him. The man whose eyes are only focused on her. Embarrassment is not what her mind has been warning her. Rather, it’s the same old hindrance that’s holding her back. All those years.

“You can let go now, Myungsoo-oppa,” she tells him, yet she keeps holding on to them.

He senses the discomfort in her voice. Perhaps, that’s not the right word, yet it’s abrupt for him and strange, even for himself. “Oh, right… Mianhae.” He parts from the woman, taking a few steps away from her.

“No, it's okay,” she fixes her hair, placing scattered strands to the side. “You just took me by surprise, that’s all. You were a bit too excited. And it’s my promotion, too,” she tries to lighten up the mood once again.

“Well, it's a big achievement for you,” he defends. “How can I not be happy for you?”

“Gomawo, oppa.”

= = =

Three weeks have passed. Tonight feels different, but maybe that’s just what Myungsoo feels, based on his observation. They feel a bit more distant. Strangely enough, the fact that they're inside a pojangmacha makes him more attentive towards her. It must be the limited space. Or that her cheeks are slowly blushing right after taking down her fourteenth shot of the night.

She’s quieter than usual, he notices her staring into a blank space. “You alright? Or are you gonna rant about it? Hey, you better not be regretting your promotion or something, because you very much deserved that position.”

“Oppa…” she turns to him, ignoring his active concerns and speculation, as one question has been lingering on her mind. “What are we?”

He turns to her without a word, keeping his mouth from opening agape. His reaction is delayed, like a system lagging due to the overloading of data. If he had taken a sip of his shot before that, he would’ve spilled his drink. “Huh? What do you mean, Tone? Your question’s a bit too vague…”

Just like their relationship. Kotone takes a deeper breath than before. Instead of facing him head on, her eyes gaze at a distance, wistful at her thoughts and reminiscing of her past. “Yeah... I know that’s such a cliche thing to say… But, I’ve been thinking of it for a while... That damn question… But then again, you’re not a philosophy professor.”

“If that’s what you mean, uhh, then…” he stammers, hoping that playing along will help him understand what she's talking about. “We’re friends. We’ve always been, aren’t we?”

She feels a clenching and numbing sensation in her chest. It’s temporary, but she knows why she’s feeling like this. To hear that phrase over and over again. It’s exhausting.

“Yeah,” she affirms. “Don’t mind me. I know it’s already been months since the reunion, but I’m just taking us down memory lane. What happened after graduation. It just got me thinking, how, the last time we met, you were also with Yooyeon-unnie. My close friend and fellow Diamond Dreamer.”

“Tone-yah.” He feels discomfort, even from her, since all she’s doing is bringing up his own dating life. Yet, he finds it strange that he himself doesn’t want her to tell all these details. But his mind reminds him of their encounter at the reunion. When she walked up to him and Yooyen. “Where are you going with this?”

“No, no, I’m not jealous or anything,” she slowly rubs the side of her neck. “I was happy for you guys... But now that we’re on this route, I’m just wondering how she’s doing.”

Jealous? Myungsoo’s mind repeats it. He’s not entirely convinced by her words, but he doesn’t want to worsen this moment. He just wants Kotone around. Talk things out in this new perspective, even if it makes him, or even her, uncomfortable. “I mean, with what I know, she’s been doing well now. Always a beloved professor to her classes.”

“Are you not beloved by your students?”

“Well, I had my ups and downs… And—” He realizes Tone’s move. She's trying to change the subject and beating around the bush. “Wait… You’ve caught up with Yooyeon at the reunion, haven't you? Along with your fellow clubmates. She mentioned that. And you walked to us.”

“Ah…” She's running out of ramblings. Out of excuses. “We have, and she looks just as stunning as I last saw her. And most of the members were there, too. Jiwoo. Chaeyeon. Nakyoung-unnie. Everyone had a glow-up. They evolved. They were still so beautiful.”

And so are you. He can’t speak it out, feeling a part of himself keep such words from leaving his mouth. It’s usually not like this, and it’s bugging him.

“I love Yooyeon-unnie. She was always like a sister to me... But after finding out how successful she’s been, how all of them have been, even I knew that I couldn’t have compared to her in a lot of ways—”

“Don’t say that.” He didn’t know what just came to him, but he could only feel his heart constricting, hearing the woman compare herself to his old flame. Her own best friend. Deep down, he knows it’s not all of the sudden. “You’re saying nonsense now. Yooyeon and you are different. Don’t compare yourself to her, or anyone.”

She looks at him, her eyes a veil to various emotions. Disdain. Inferiority. Regret. Determination. Bitterness. Reassurance. False hope. “So how did you see me then, Myungsoo?”

He gulps down his own nervousness, hoping that her words in the past few minutes are simply the result of her less sober state. But he finally gets her to speak out. “Tone-yah. You must already be—”

“Drunk?” she scoffs, knowing him well. Quite too well. “I don’t know. I guess, we’ve had too many of those then. We’ve had this kind of talk too many times for me not to forget. You should know by now that this second bottle doesn’t faze me one bit…”

“Are you sure about that? Because it seems like—”

“I like you, oppa.”

He’s finally at a loss of words, but she still looks at him dead in the eye.

“All those years, I've been idiotic. I'm idiotic right now, too… Just risking our friendship for something I'm not even sure will go anywhere.”

Defeated and dumbfounded by his failure to realize it beforehand, he can only look down while she takes her fifteenth shot.

“I thought that making the reunion would make things like they used to,” she adds. “I mean for a night, it did… And I was so happy about that. I was overjoyed that I didn’t disappoint anyone who made it. Or myself. I mean I did get a promotion after that.”

She pours the last ounce of her bottle, before taking her sixteenth shot without pause. “And then I saw you and Yooyeon together. I know I was happy for you two back then. But, b-but I don't know how else to say it… Seeing you that night. It… It still hurts.”

He feels his heart sink deeper. “Kotone,” Myungsoo wants to say anything else, but he keeps his gaze at her. Amidst her words, he himself is paralyzed in this dilemma. He wants to open his mouth, but she continues her somber, tipsy confession.

She wants to cry. It’s what they usually do in dramas, but weirdly enough, there are no tears left for her tonight. The pang is there, burning through her raging heart with every word she mutters. But she won’t stop until she’s left it all out of her system. “And I know that you’re no longer together, but my stupid brain kept thinking that there could still be a slight chance… So I went up and ruined your moment.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he mumbles back.

“On second thought…” she wheezes, unable to defend her own face of smugness to him, even though he defended her. “Maybe I’ll regret this tomorrow. I’m sorry I wasted your time tonight.”

Slowly, he reaches his hand going to her shoulders, but her eyes catch it from the side. “Don't do anything you'll regret, oppa. Just because you feel bad for me.”

“Then I’ll regret it with you.” Myungsoo raises his bottle. Kotone wants to feel touched, but in her mind, she’s sensed this pattern that’s been irking her in the past few months since they’ve caught up. A pattern that lasted years. His willingness and enthusiasm to hang out with her whenever she invites him, without any question. His long ‘ride or die’ mentality whenever she’s on her low point or even when it’s the silliest of hypotheticals, like now. I know what you’re feeling, but don’t get your hopes up… That’s just how he’s been to you. You’re a close friend. His best girl friend. “Or not at all.”

= = =

“Hnggghhh… Huh..?” Despite feeling the irritating, inconvenient weight of her eye bags, as well as the unpleasant sensation of her parched throat, she opens them to find herself staring at a white ceiling.

Kotone wakes up on the snuggly surface of a bed that she has never lied on in her life, wrapped under a blanket. Inside, she slowly takes a peek of her own body—inducing a sigh of relief with what she has found. Her eyes wander around the room. She hears the door creak while it slowly opens. Her eyes light up in panic but she immediately catches a glimpse of Myungsoo’s face and his waving left hand from the other side as he walks in the bedroom with a mug of coffee. Of course, it’s him. There’s no escaping from this one. She places a nearby pillow on her face, muffling herself as she groans into the cushion.

“Good morn—” he quickly backtracks his choice of words, sensing the not too welcoming atmosphere inside his own room. Not to mention her perplexed face, from her eye bags to her slouched posture, and how she just acted after seeing him. “Or is it not a ‘good morning’ for you? We’re in my place, by the way, if you’re confused.”

“I’ve had worse… But this is a pretty nice bed. Great pillow too,” Kotone puts her right palm on her face, inevitably letting out a groan while her memories just had to remind her of last night. “God, that was really embarrassing of me…”

Myungsoo approaches the bed, sitting beside her. “This will help,” he hands over the mug, which she politely accepts with a slight bow.

“Thanks…” She blows it gently, before her lips touch the latte, welcoming the balance of bitter, sweet, and slightly salty taste entering her palate. “This is, uh, this is really good.”

He can’t help but chuckle, hoping that his lighthearted approach will lighten her up. “It’s from my go-to cafe… It’s just a three-minute walk from here. They’re pretty cheap, too.”

The woman takes another sip of the coffee, wanting to disrupt the silence between them while he waits for her.

“And, as embarrassing as it is,” he continues. “I think it’s not that uncommon to have moments like those. I would’ve brought up more memories myself too… But I think… We still have to talk about something about last night. If that’s fine with you…”

It’s time, she realizes. She places the cup on the nightstand.

“I, uhh, get what you mean, oppa. And, umm… I still mean it,” she tells him up front. “Whatever how you feel, that’ll be your feelings. I just…” She sighs. This shouldn’t be that dramatic, girl, she tells herself. “Confessed my own… And, I can’t take it back.”

He exhaled through his pursed lips. “Why take it back?” he shoots back.

“What?” Befuddled by his blunt response, she doesn’t know how to answer him.

But for Myungsoo, his heart isn’t lying. Neither is hers. “I’ve seen you as a friend for a long time, Kotone. But that doesn’t mean I never saw you as anything more than that.”

“What do you mean, Myungsoo?”

“I wasn’t sure because of how you and I acted whenever we're together… Maybe I was giving you too many mixed messages, ‘cause I kept holding myself back. Perhaps I was just scared that we'd lose everything we had if I said—or did anything funny... And with what happened last night, you were… A lot braver than I am.”

She let out a chuckle. He is not that different. Even he had his own hesitations.

“And with Yooyeon… Even she was bothered at times.” His hand clenches into a fist. “About us being close friends... But I know now, that's not on her. It’s on me. You were never a problem. I was being stubborn against myself, and I ended up breaking people’s hearts. I broke your heart, Kotone. I'm sorry because of that.”

In spite of their fifty-centimeter distance, Kotone doesn’t hesitate to hold his hand. “Don't blame yourself for everything, oppa.”

“I know, but sometimes, I still do. But I shouldn't be scared. And you made me realize that, Kotone... I’ve always treasured our friendship for what it was, but I'll always care about you more than that. Whatever we may be… I don't regret this.”

Dugeun, dugeun. Dugeun dugeun.

“I know it’s stupid to say it nowadays, but I’ve always seen you as a woman.”

His explanation makes her chortle, but such a reaction can't mask her true feelings.

“Myungsoo-oppa…” She stares at the man straight in his eyes. Such a patient yet longing and welcoming gaze from him is something she never thought she would ever get to see. She stands from her seat. “Would you… like to go out with me?”

He chuckles at her more or less act of formality. Instead of answering her with words, Myungsoo stands up and takes a few steps forward towards her, walking past the thin curtains of their friendship, and wraps his arms around the woman he’s been longing to embrace for a time only his beating heart can tell. Kotone tightens his embrace, closing her eyes. Both can only have a laugh, listening to each other’s heartbeats as if they’re headphones for only one ear, or a vibration speaker. He inches away, wanting to see her face.

Just as he expected. Her looking down on the floor, trying to cover up her blushing cheeks. “Yah… Why are you staring at me now?”

“Well, it’s…” He wants to tell her. Tell her an observation that he’s never told her before. “You look so cute… So beautiful... Just like that night. I mean, you always were. I’m sorry if I never got to tell you… I’m sorry it took me so long.”

With her lips shut in wonder, Kotone can’t shoot back a witty quip or begin another banter. This time, only her blushing cheeks and heartbeat answer to his straightforward praise. Not a teardrop is willing to leave her eyes once more, as today, her sense of triumph overcomes any other emotion.

“I’m sorry it took me so long, too,” she musters up to him. That weight on her heart begins to lift up, and it’s the best feeling she’s felt since their reunion.

Despite seeing her joy through her wide smile, Myungsoo senses her hesitation to move closer. He cups her cheeks, warming it up with his hands. Slowly, he pulls Kotone into his lips and tilts his head to the right. Their eyes close at the same time. He savors the sweet and bitter taste of the coffee from her lips, as well as the traces of the grapefruit soju in her mouth, as well as the scent of the fruity perfume he’s given to her. She gets a taste of his menthol toothpaste and a whiff of his aqua cologne; her hands hold on to his sloped shoulders. Feeling her body, his hands move over to her waist.

Their lips part for a second, albeit only to tilt their heads in the opposite direction before resuming their moment and intensifying it by pulling him closer, allowing her hands to clasp around him so they can savor each other’s touch more and feel each other longer.

= = =