The sun doesn’t have much energy and so does Kyungwan.

 

She jumps a little when the regulator’s cold hand meets her elbow, urging her to go inside her new room. Kyungwan supposes this act should ease at least a little of her worries, but his lifeless gaze only adds fear.

 

A small window welcomes the light the sun has little to give. On the right corner lies a single bed with a deflated mattress. On the left is a small cabinet for the clothes she managed to pack with little time.

 

Rusty springs creak as she weighs down on her new bed. She hugs her duffle bag and shrinks herself.

 

“Dinner’s at 6pm,” the regulator slams the door.

 

Kyungwan winces and feels her tears start forming. She wants her old room back. She wants her parents back.

 

In her old life, she used to be the Yoo’s princess. Just like Juliet. Living in the castle and the privileged life.

 

Her old room had a much softer bed with more pillows and proper conditioning. The baby blue confines of its luxury did not prepare her for a life like this.

 

She could really use her friend right now. Myoui Mina. The only friend she has. She’s confused now and frankly between the two of them, it was always Mina who knew what to do in various situations. She wonders what would she tell her to do right now?

 

Mina was the first person to initiate their friendship. Their shared annoyance to children of their age catalyzed it. They could not stand children when they were (still are) a child.

 

The Japanese chose her company because aside from her, it was only Kyungwan who didn’t shed a tear on their first day of school. During snack time, Kyungwan offered her father’s cookies. And then they spend the rest of their class hours talking in whispers.

 

Over the years, they have grown rather fond of each other. They’d invite each other to tea parties with their dolls. Mina would invite her to her ballet recitals. Kyungwan would cook and bake for her. They’d have each other no matter what.

 

Kyungwan curls into a fetal position on her new bed, her back facing the empty space. She could feel the springs of her bed on her side. She knows it’s not Mina’s fault, but she sure hopes her friend will do something at least to soothe her worries. A call, perhaps.

 

Just yesterday, Mina and she were enjoying each other’s presence away from all the noise and chaos in their school, Xavier. They were in the school garden, minding their own business. It was just yesterday, but her memories blur fast.

 

Kyungwan always thinks flowers are nice because somewhere where green extends as far as you can see, their fragments of colors appear so vibrant at first glance. Flowers have the courage to be unique. Something that she, herself does not have.

 

She kneels to level a flower, and leans closer to sniff. She closes her eyes as its sweet aroma fills her. Carefully, she touches the flower but doesn’t notice its thorn. She jerks away from it, slapping the flower away from its stem accidentally.

 

Her rusty warm blood shows where her finger was pricked. Kyungwan hisses and tears start to form in her eyes. It may not be obvious since she acts all tough outside, but Kyungwan is actually a huge cry baby. And only Mina knows it. 

 

Mina looks back at her worriedly. When she sees the flower on the ground, she chuckles at her friend. She pulls out a handkerchief her grandmother embroidered for her and dabs it on Kyungwan’s wound.

 

The two of them freeze in their place when a regulator appears out of nowhere. “Yoo Kyungwan,” he says in his deep voice. “Follow me.”

 

They look at each other, both taken aback by the unwelcomed presence. “What’s going on?” Mina asks.

 

Kyungwan gulps and shrugs. They rarely see regulators in their part of town. Most of the time they’re sighted in poorer outskirts like Springfield. 

 

Mina tilts her chin upward, trying to take the upper hand with her intimidating aura. But an eleven-year old girl does not scare a grown, cured man. He stands still, paying no attention to Mina.

 

Kyungwan doesn’t want to complicate things more, so she stands up. Mina protests at first. She tells her it’s okay. Every step she takes feels like stepping away from her current life.

 

“Kyungwan,” Mina calls softly. “Call me when you get home safely.”

 

She smiles at her reassuringly and nods. The regulator leads her and shoves her in the car. Before they take the sharp turn and leave the school premises, Kyungwan sees Mina in the rearview mirror. Her other hand’s waving goodbye. The other’s hugging herself for comfort. Like she was sending her off.

 

And then she ends up in this facility she didn’t even know existed.

 

Her first impression of it is awful. The hallways are too narrow they feel suffocating and she swears she felt them caving in while walking. At day, it feels dim although Kyungwan could see the sun shining brightly in the sky. At night, it’s worse. The light bulb at the end of the hall looks eerie as it keeps on going on and off and water stops running after seven pm.

 

Next morning, Kyungwan wakes up shaking from hunger. She goes to the cafeteria just in time for breakfast. She gets her plate and utensils then falls in line just like other kids do.

 

Kyungwan concludes that most of the kids there are her age. But some are too young to be experiencing what she would call ‘traumatic events’. She looks around and observes her surroundings.

 

It’s just like an average cafeteria but way less inviting than Xavier’s. Not like it was supposed to be inviting in the first place. Kyungwan knows the place is for stuck up kids.

 

And clearly, their parents did not teach them table manners because as far as her eyes could see, not a single kid follows rule number one in eating: don’t talk when your mouth is full.

 

Everyone’s at each other’s throats betting on something. Swearing at each other. Talking in such manners Kyungwan was told exactly NOT to do. Some kids drink the soup like it’s water. Kyungwan’s frustrated because there wasn’t even a bouillon spoon for them.

 

She doesn’t want to associate these kinds of people with her. She was always told that their class should not be found meddling with someone much less significant than theirs. Yet here she is elbow to elbow with them.

 

turns dry. Unconsciously, she hugs herself for protection and shrugs. She wants to get out of there as soon as possible.

 

The oldest girl catches her eyes and glares at her. She wraps her arm around the younger girl which Kyungwan thinks isn’t older than five. Her name’s Seungwan, and the little girl with her is Yeri. Kyungwan heard it a while ago while passing in the hallway.

 

She doesn’t want Seungwan to pick on her so she avoids her eyes and fixes her posture. Then it was her turn to get food. The woman who’s catering looks at her and smirks, making the corner of Kyungwan’s lips twitch.

 

She puts a cup of rice which was not enough to satisfy Kyungwan’s hunger and two rolls of egg. Then, she hands Kyungwan a bowl of kimchi jjigae with exactly three pieces of kimchi and one lonely tofu floating around the soup.

 

Kyungwan gulps, wanting to ask for more. The woman raises her eyebrows at her with hands on her hips. Kyungwan disregards the thought of it.

 

She spots an empty table at the back of the cafeteria near the trash can. When she was at Xavier, students their age were dying to share a table with Mina and her at lunch. Now, the tables really have turned.

 

Not removing her eyes at the spot, she darts toward that direction. But Seungwan pushes her tray to her face. It takes her five whole seconds to hear the laughter and feel their eyes looking at her. Grains of rice stick to her face and thankfully the soup was not that hot.

 

Seungwan’s laugh echoes in her ears, and Yeri’s giggles get into her nerves. The older girl mutters her apology while showing her devious smile. Kyungwan ignores her.

 

She looks around to see if someone would help her but all she sees is kids laughing at her misery. Even the adults didn’t care. Some even joined the uproar.

 

Her face turns fiery red. Her stomach drops and she couldn’t catch her breath. It feels worse than burping in front of her parents at dinner. She wants to turn invisible and sneak out of the room.

 

With her long legs she takes huge steps away from the cafeteria, bumping anyone who gets in her way. 

 

The next morning, Kyungwan finds herself sitting alone in the corner, poking her waffle lazily. She can feel their eyes and hears their whispers but decides to ignore them. It’s for the best anyway.

 

They call it waffle wednesday. Apparently the kids around here like waffles and think it’s a five-star meal. Kyungwan shakes her head. The waffles look more yellow than they're supposed to be. And instead of syrup, it’s topped with grains of sugar.

 

She bets Mina, who doesn’t know a thing about the kitchen, can make better waffles even without a cookbook. Even she, herself, cooks better than this. Her father made sure he passed on his knowledge and she personally enjoys being in the kitchen.

 

She lazily lifts her fork like it was a poison dart ready to murder her food. Seungwan, the sixteen-year old hag, snatches her plate. Her fork lands on the table with a loud thud and she purses her lips.

 

The whole cafeteria stops and looks at them. Seungwan puts Kyungwan’s waffles on her plate and leaves. She goes back to her seat and gives the waffles to Yeri while massaging her shoulders. The little girl giggles at her second piece of waffle.

 

Kyungwan’s stomach growls, hungry as a wolf. Her stomach lurches and her head feels light. She pinches her nose and tries to focus her eyesight but fails.

 

A girl in a white dress sits in front of her. Her eyesight is blurry but she doesn’t miss her smile. She takes Kyungwan’s plate and exchanges it with hers. “You can have mine.”

 

Kyungwan doesn’t say a word and immediately digs in. She hasn't eaten a bite since the day she entered this ghastly and extremely unpleasant hellhole and she’s shaking in hunger. 

 

She can feel the girl looking at her, so she slows down on chewing and remembers the table manners her father has drilled into her head.

 

It doesn’t take her four bites to finish her breakfast. Kyungwan wipes with a tissue. The girl watches every muscle she lifts and it makes her feel insecure. Kyungwan opens to say her thanks but someone cuts her.

 

A woman dressed in cook's clothes points her spatula at the girl in front of her. Kyungwan looks at her, feeling turn dry. 

 

Bunny smile escapes the other girl’s lips. Then it quickly turns into a pained expression when the cook pinches her right ear and drags her away with Kyungwan’s plate.

 

Kyungwan covers the sunlight with her hand and looks up at the tree. Then, to the playground full of children who seem to either have accepted their situation or have no idea about it at all. 

 

Between the tree and the crowd of children that obviously hate her, she still wants to get out of there unscathed so she chooses the tree. Climbing trees has a slimmer chance of getting injured than hanging out with other kids in the facility.

 

Kyungwan grunts as she reaches for the branch. She swings her long legs and balances herself. Then, she rests her back and looks at the playground.

 

A group of children runs around, playing tag. A few are having bets on who could hang on the monkey bar the longest. Some are playing with their dolls in the corner. She winces when a child pops off one of the dolls' heads and replaces it with another, creating an unusual hybrid of doll-being.

 

Fresh wind brushes her hair, properly thick and fragrant. Kyungwan looks to her right. Beyond the walls of the facility is another wall of electrified fence about twenty feet tall.

 

The facility is located near the border. It’s obvious because it’s what they called the fence. This is the first time she’s seeing the fence up close. Beyond those, no one’s really sure what lies. It was an uncharted territory that everyone’s been so afraid of discovering.

 

There were news about multiple cases of people whose cure didn’t work and tried to cross it in hopes of living a free life but failed. Either the border itself fried them or if they’re lucky enough to go across, the Government and regulators would do a ‘search and rescue’ operation. Most of the time, they’d find them dead. It’s a suicide, crosing those borders.

 

Old locals believe that the forest is a cemetery for people who refused to believe in the cure during World War II. Those who rebelled against the cure attempted to create a civilization outside the verified community and tried to live in democracy. But all of them failed. 

 

The Government bombed the wilds until almost all the trees burned and all the animals hid, making sure that they left no human life beyond the borders. They bombed them until the earth was wounded and the people inside the verified communities were terror-struck.

 

Now, the wilds have healed and the forest is very much alive. Birds started chirping again and animals rustled, rooting in the underbrush.Some trees were wreathed with ivy, ever trapped in its embrace, while others remained barren, too youthful to have enough time to claim fellows yet.

 

But despite its mystery and notoriety, Kyungwan finds the view healing. It doesn’t look as gloomy as it sounds from the stories she heard. Actually, it’s the prettiest view she’s seen.

 

Trees dance with the wind leading them. Sound of leaves brushing calms her. The sky’s graciously clear. The sunlight fills the gaps in the forest's canopy, creating a soul-swelling sensation she could not quite comprehend.

 

For a few minutes, she closes her eyes. When she opens them, she sees the girl at the breakfast smiling at her.

 

“You were dozing off,” she starts. The girl looks at the children playing around. “Don’t you want to play with them?”
 

“No.”

 

“Me too.”

 

Kyungwan raises her eyebrow and crosses her arms in an attempt to tell her to go away. The other girl hums innocently while swinging both her feet. She scoffs when she doesn't get the message.

 

She climbs back down, leaving the girl all by herself. The other girl calls her name, but she pretends she doesn’t hear it. She uses her long legs to her advantage and half walks half runs inside the building.

 

“Kyungwan, wait up!” The girl takes bigger steps.

 

She stops, annoyed. She didn’t introduce herself to her. Doesn’t intend to. And she’s sure she didn’t give the girl the permission to call her on a first-name basis. 

 

“Look, thanks for the breakfast, but I’m not your friend.”

 

“I could be,” the girl holds her head high. Her confidence irks Kyungwan. “I’m Nayeon.”

 

Kyungwan pokes her tongue on the insides of her cheek and inhales sharply. She rolls her eyes before turning her back and storming out of Nayeon’s vicinity. Thankfully the girl takes a hint and doesn’t follow.

 

She takes the stairs and swears it feels narrower and steeper than yesterday. Everything in the building is extra smaller than it should be. Like the chairs and tables. 

 

Kyungwan feels like a giant when she sits. At first she thought it was because she’s taller than most of the children and she’s at the puberty stage but really everything’s just microscopic like they think they’re all toddlers. Another portion that is extra small is food.

 

Unexpectedly, Seungwan’s on her way down the stairs and sees her. Kyungwan mutters “great” under her breath. 

 

“Well, well, newbie,” Seungwan pushes her to the wall and looks at her from top to bottom. “Your parents must be in the crypts. Most of our parents are,” Seungwan smirks. 

 

“The crypts?” The word feels alien on Kyungwan’s tongue. She hadn't heard about it before today. 

 

“Don’t tell me you don’t know about that,” Seungwan scoffs. She studies Kyungwan to see if she’s joking, but the girl maintains her straight face. “Poor you.”

 

“Tell me what it means,” she stands straight, jaw clenched, towering over the smaller girl. 

 

“Getting brave now, are we?” Seungwan pushes her head to the wall with her index finger on her forehead. “You behave and I tell you what it means.”

A fresh swell of rage rises in her and fury vibrates through her. But she wants to know what it means so she swallows down her frustration and keeps mum.

 

“Good.” Seungwan fixes her own bangs before telling Kyungwan. “They say it’s like a penitentiary. But from what I’ve heard it’s a torture house for highest criminal offenders.”

 

Suddenly the air feels thin. Her sweat feels cold and her hands clammy. Her mind zips from one unrelated thought to another.

 

“So, what are your parents’ crimes?” Seungwan pulls her back to reality. Kyungwan feels so overwhelmed by everything. Like a glass full of water and she doesn’t know how to turn off the tap. 

 

She pushes the older girl and runs.

 

She finds herself crying on a far corner where she’s sure no one would notice. Her face is buried in her arms that are hugging both her knees. She rocks herself back and forth, mumbling to herself. “It’s not true”

 

It is but she doesn’t want to accept the fact. She wants to rewind the time back to when their family is on the top and other people look up to them.

 

Back then, everyone’s afraid of their last name. Even some people in their school are and they had total control over them. Kyungwan didn’t understand why it works the way it does but finds it convenient to be on top sometimes.

 

But now that she feels like she’s at the bottom of the pyramid she kind of gets how it all works and develops a whole new level of vileness on it. She just wants everything to be equal and just. Something that would not do anyone wrong.

 

“Kyungwan?” Nayeon calls softly. Kyungwan looks up at her like a lost puppy.

 

“Shush, what’s wrong?” she kneels in front of her. Kyungwan cries harder because of her question. Nayeon pulls her close and hugs her.

 

“Are my parents in the crypts?” she sobs on her shoulder. Nayeon tenses at her question and stops caressing her back. “They were… They were mistaken as sympathizers, you know what that means?”
 

Nayeon purses her lips and nods. Sympathizers are people who support the Invalids. Most of them are cured themselves and live in the verified communities.

 

They are those who ‘sympathize’ with invalids because they disagree with the system. They help invalids because they think the cure is not an answer or they might feel like condemning invalids is wrong. 

 

“But it’s just a rumor,” Kyungwan reasons out to her. Nayeon may not be able to do anything to save her parents but she needs to justify herself and someone who will listen to her explanation. “One of my father’s chefs in his restaurant was a sympathizer and they think my parents must be too. I know they’re not.”

 

Her family prioritizes honor over everything. They won’t do anything to tarnish their reputation. Just like any other cured person, they also believe in law and order. 

 

“Are they in the crypts?” Kyungwan repeats.

 

“I don’t know. I’m sorry,” 

 

“How about yours?”

 

Nayeon nods. Kyungwan misses the way tears start to form in the other girl’s eyes, too. “Then how can you just…” she gestures wildly “be so cool about it?” her tone, a bit pushy.

 

“It’s lunchtime soon. Let’s go get you some water?” The other girl offers her hand to Kyungwan and lets her question hang in the air.

 

Kyungwan’s knees feel like they'll surrender soon. She hesitates at first. She stares at Nayeon, looking for answers. The other girl gives her a reassuring smile. She uses the back of her hand to wipe her tears and accepts Nayeon’s hand.

 

“Just stick with me and don’t mind other kids, okay?” She pulls her close. Kyungwan sniffles and nods.

 

Kyungwan tries not to cringe when she remembers how she looked like a fool crying in front of Nayeon. She bumps her forehead on her door and regrets her decisions in life. She has no clue how to approach Nayeon after that.

 

But when she opens her door and sees Nayeon flashing her adorable front teeth, it was so easy to fall back and let her lead the conversation. 

 

Everyday, Nayeon helps her adjust and they’d spend the entire day together talking about random things. 

 

They’d read together in the library. Most of the time Nayeon falls asleep on the book and drools on its pages. Most of the time Jeongyeon would stare at her and admire her.

 

She knows it’s hard right now. Heck Kyungwan herself experiences how difficult it is to wake up not knowing a thing about the outside world.. Or about their parents.

 

She admires Nayeon because she acts like everything’s okay. She admires Nayeon for her optimism. Her unconventional thoughts. Her smile. Her everything.

 

Kyungwan stares at her the whole time she’s sleeping. When Nayeon wakes up, she pretends to read. She holds back her laugh when Nayeon groans in disgust while wiping her chin.

 

“Hey,” Kyungwan greets her.

 

“Mom?” Nayeon asks groggily, still half asleep. She shakes her head, pulling herself back into reality. “I was dreaming. Sorry.”

 

Kyungwan furrows her eyebrows, and tells her it’s okay. A moment of silence and hesitation. Then she asks Nayeon in a whisper. “I don’t think you’ve told me why you’re here yet.” She hides her face behind the book. 

 

She has been itching to ask Nayeon what happened to her parents. It’s not like Nayeon owes it to her. She’s just a curious child.

 

“Okay,” Nayeon breathes in and exhales sharply.

 

The other girl starts by explaining how her parents would sneak out with an awful lot of food past curfew when they think she’s already asleep on her bed. Then to the way they treat people the way uncured people do such as smiling and talking to them in a cheerful tone which their neighbors would always point out.

 

And then she mentions Sana, the best friend she left. Nayeon talks about her the way Kyungwan would talk about Mina. With fondness and enthusiasm. She shares how Sana would often visit their house and  how Sana’s father and her parents would have meetings in hushed voices in their kitchen every week while they played in the living room.

 

Nayeon tells her how one day her parents woke her up and asked her to pack her bag while a white van was waiting for them outside. She quietly obliged and didn't ask any questions.

 

In one of the checkpoints, the regulators recognized her parents and asked them to get out of the van. Her parents were shoved into a black van and that was the last time she saw them. 

 

The other girl then was ushered to the police station for questioning. After that, they drove her back to their house to get more things. She wanted to say goodbye to Sana, but the regulator whispers that they’d harm her if she didn’t get into the car immediately.

 

Kyungwan looks her in the eyes, not knowing what to say to the other girl. She feels guilty for treating her horribly the first time they met. She also pity the girl for going through such a traumatic incident. 

 

“I—“ she tries to grasp the words “I don’t know what to say, Nayeon. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
 

“You don’t have to pity me,” the girl says sternly. “What’s important now is we’re safe.”

 

“How… How can you think like that?” Kyungwan can’t wrap her head around Nayeon’s logic.

 

“In this world we live in there are people who are willing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of something bigger. We just have to trust them.” Nayeon pushes Kyungwan’s book aside and looks her in the eye. Like her words have deeper meaning than they seem and the answer lies at the bottom of her ocean eyes. “They weren’t the first victim here and they won’t be the last.”

 

“What do you mean victim? Which side is good and bad?”

 

“They don't get to choose what’s good or bad. Just because the majority think a certain way doesn’t mean they’re right. It’s for you to decide,” Nayeon whispers in her ear. She’s so close it makes Kyungwan’s hair stand up on the back of her neck. ““You have to make the apple fall.’” Nayeon says in a quoting manner.

 

Kyungwan’s breath shudders like someone just poured a bucket of ice over her head and her entire being was awakened.

 

“Can you promise me one thing?” Nayeon asks.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Promise me you’ll find Sana and protect her?”

 

“Only if you promise me one thing,” Kyungwan proposes. “Promise me you’ll get out of here.”

 

“It’s more than just a promise. It’s a pinky promise.” Nayeon raises her pinky finger and Kyungwan links hers as tightly as she could. The two of them grin, their foreheads touching each other’s.

 

The next day, a regulator wakes up Kyungwan and tells her to pack her bags and meet him in the lobby. The sun’s just preparing to rise and most of the children are still asleep. She asks him why but he leaves without answering her question. She thinks they’re gonna change her room. It happens all the time there, the rotation of rooms.

 

Kyungwan hikes her bag up and rubs her eyes. She yawns and sits on one of the sofas in the lobby. Still feeling sleepy, she figures she’d steal a few more seconds while waiting for the regulator. 

 

“Kyungwan,” a familiar voice wakes her up. 

 

Her eyes fly open and are greeted by her mother's hazel brown eyes. Same as hers. For months her presence has started to feel fictional. It has become something she thought she can live without.

 

But she’s in front of her now. A soundless laugh escapes her shuddering lips. It was beyond relief to see her safe and sound.

 

“Mom,” Kyungwan wraps her scrawny arms around her mother and she never felt as safe since she was sent to the facility. Both of them have lost weight since the last time they saw each other.

 

Her mother’s cheekbones are more prominent now and her body becomes more slender than Kyungwan remembers. She sees a few bruises her mother’s long sleeves fail to hide and swallows her worry. At least she’s here now and god knows how long Kyungwan waited for her.

 

“Shush,” her mother doesn’t hug her back. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

Kyungwan protests. As much as she finds joy in that, “But mom, I need to say goodbye to someone first.” She tugs her shirt, begging.

 

“You don’t have the luxury to do that,” her mother snaps. “We must go now or else we’ll leave you here.”
 

“She’s probably awake now,” Kyungwan stands up and ignores her mother. “It’s almost sunrise. She never misses sunrise. It’s her favorite.” She looks at the window and the sun peeks as if it longed for the blue sky and didn’t want anything but to warm its blues with gold. 

 

“We’re leaving,” Her mother holds her wrist and pulls her. 

 

Kyungwan remains like a statue, determined not to move. “I’ll wait for her.”

 

“Fine, then,” She drops her wrist. Her mother walks away from her and from the lobby she sees her family’s familiar old silver honda civic 2002. Her mother stands in front of the car’s door and glares at her.

 

Kyungwan avoids her eyes and looks at the wall clock that says 6:15am. She taps her foot and chews the soft skin around her fingernails. 

 

Nayeon should be awake by now. She should be making her way down the staircase right now. She should be watching the sunrise right now on top of the tree they always climb and admiring the view. 

 

After five minutes, Nayeon still doesn’t arrive. Her mother enters their car and slams the door. Her father turns on the ignition.

 

Kyungwan runs to their car even though it’s against her will. Her father doesn’t say a word and steps on the gas. Their car gathers speed.

 

She closes her eyes and feels a lump forming on . Her lips tremble and her shoulders start to shake. She whimpers and looks back to the entrance.

 

She sees Nayeon waving at her, crying.

 

Kyungwan wakes up and feels her head throbbing. She pinches her bloated cheeks and looks at her puffy eyes in the rearview mirror. She cried herself to sleep a while ago.

 

The scenery is more familiar now than when they got out of the facility. Buildings look taller. Roads are busier. Crowds of pedestrians and shoppers pass by. Kyungwan has been on this road a few times when they were visiting her older sister and she did not miss the hustle and bustle of Seoul at all.

 

Her father pulls over to her sister’s apartment building’s underground parking lot near Han River. It was their gift to her older sister when she was matched with a soon to be Chemical Engineer. 

 

She stays inside the car and waits for her parents, as they instructed. She turns on the radio for white noise and rolls the window down.

 

At the first hour, she thinks about how she’s gonna ask her parents what happened to them after the regulators raided her father’s restaurant and their mansion. She thinks it’s impossible because her parents never really tell her anything and she’s afraid they might think she’s crossing a line.

 

At the second hour, she thinks about Nayeon. The girl who was with her during her lowest. The girl who celebrates even the smallest things in life. She’s really grateful for their friendship. Kyungwan would never forget her, especially her promise. She’s determined to keep it no matter what it takes.

 

At the third hour, she thinks about Mina. Mina who was her first friend. She wonders if she knew what happened to her, and if she did, what was her reaction? Did she think of disregarding their friendship?

 

At the fourth hour, she was losing patience. Her parents are taking too much time and she can’t take another second of it. She’s running out of things to think about and fixate on. So she decides to sleep instead.

 

Her father slams the door and she wakes up. Kyungwan lost track of time already. She looks at both her parents and realizes her sister’s not with them.

 

“We don’t need someone selfish and doesn’t have a sense of indebtedness in her,” her father says “She’s not even ashamed of herself!” he slams his fist on the steering wheel. Kyungwan yelps in surprise. 

 

She sinks on her seat. She has never seen her father lose his patience like that. He was more on the calm and collected side. Doesn’t care most of the time. But now he’s nowhere near calm.

 

Her mother purses her lips together and closes her eyes. She keeps shut.

 

“Let’s go,” her father says, red-faced. 

 

Kyungwan doesn’t ask any questions, afraid her parents would lash out their anger on her. Doesn’t ask questions about where they’re going. She was like a dead fish going with the flow. Afraid to be perceived and scolded.

 

The backseat of their car smells like memories that don't belong to her anymore. She can’t find it in herself to process any more today. All she wants is a bed to lie on and a pillow to hug. 

 

The sun is rising again. Kyungwan doesn’t have a single clue about where they are. They were on the road for a long time and they finally stopped. Her parents are outside the car, talking to someone. Behind them is a worn out house with a sign that says “FOR RENT”
 

She looks at the house more carefully. It looks plain and shabby. Smaller than any house Kyungwan has seen in her life. The roof’s color looks faded and she’s convinced it’s gonna collapse anytime. 

 

The window shutter from the inside was crooked and a blackhole of mystery lies inside. She hopes it looks better inside than out.

 

The other houses around the neighborhood look the same. Old and unfashionable. It was strangely quiet and lazy.

 

The neighbors look scary, she thinks. A man’s looking at them from his window. A couple of cured women are whispering to themselves while her parents talk. A child approaches and runs her fingers through their newly waxed car. She feels like a specimen on a microscope.

 

Her mother opens the car door. “Go help with our stuff. And go think of a new name.”

 

“But why…”

 

“For your safety. Now go get our stuff so we can rest.” Her mother pushes her to get going.

 

----------

 

Jeongyeon... Jeongyeon… Jeongyeon… 

 

She fixes her uniform’s bow and looks at herself in the mirror. It’s her first day at her new school and she’s currently in the bathroom mentally preparing herself.

 

Jeongyeon…

 

The name still feels foreign on her tongue. She’s still not used to her new life. She isn’t used to doing household chores because she didn’t need to do them before. She always had someone serving her like she’s a real princess.

 

But now, both her parents work all the time. Kyungwan— Jeongyeon  has to cook food for herself because her parents were so busy and they had no maid. She had to figure it out herself how to use a washing machine or how to wash the dishes properly.

 

Everything shifted so fast. She feels like her life is progressing backward and she needs to fight against the current. 

 

She leaves the bathroom and stands in front of her new classroom. Her new homeroom teacher opens the door and gestures for her to come in.

 

Most of her classmates aren’t paying attention and are tossing papers around the classroom. She looks at the floor and stares at her shoes. “I’m Yoo Kyung—“ she shakes her head “Yoo Jeongyeon.” she mumbles to herself and nods.

 

“Be quiet, I can’t hear her,” one of her classmates throws back a ball made out of paper to the loudest student in the room. She looks up at the girl who’s now smiling at her. Jeongyeon avoids her gaze and grips the strap of her bag tightly.

 

The teacher tells her to sit at the back. Behind the girls who shout “Eh?!” when Jeongyeon’s introduction’s cut short.

 

Jeongyeon sits quietly. She can feel three girls looking at her and silently wishes they’re not as awful as children from where she came from.

 

“I’m Jihyo,” the girl on her left introduces. She looks at Jeongyeon with her arms crossed. Jeongyeon doesn’t meet her gaze and bows at her.

 

The girl beside the one in front of her finds her gaze and introduces herself as ‘Momo’ in broken korean. Momo smiles at her and repeatedly says ‘hi’ like it’s the only korean she knows.

 

Jeongyeon’s taken aback when the girl in front of her, the girl who told everyone to be quiet because she can’t hear her, gets her hand and shakes them. “Hi! I’m Sana!” She giggles.

 

“Promise me you’ll find Sana and protect her.”

 

The memory flashes in her mind crystal clear. It’s the same Sana that Nayeon has been talking about. The smile. The enthusiasm. The friendliness. She’s found Nayeon’s Sana and she can’t believe it.

 

Nayeon should be proud of her right now. She wants to tell her how easy it was to find Sana. How it’s no sweat to befriend Sana and she’s right. She’s right about everything.

 

But for now, the only thing that she could do for Nayeon is to fulfill her promise. Pinky promise.

 

So Jeongyeon smiles at her and shakes her hand back.

 

“You never got home safely,” Mina sinks to her seat while massaging her temples, “It all makes sense now.”

 

Sana has always felt that Jeongyeon’s mysterious. She barely talks about her parents aside from whenever she brings food that her father has cooked. She’s very private and barely talks about her life in general, especially her life before they moved to their town. 

 

And she knew that there was something off between Mina and Jeongyeon. She just didn’t want to push anything. Jeongyeon’s a bit talkative when she’s with Jihyo, Sana, and Momo. Even around Chaeyoung, Tzuyu, and Dahyun. But she hardly talks whenever Mina’s around and it’s like she’s always on guard around Mina’s presence. Just like Mina said, it all makes sense to her now.

 

Sana stares at Jeongyeon, still shocked by Nayeon and Jeongyeon’s story. She feels sorry for her friends. But she also can’t stop thinking how huge of a coincidence it is that they’re all together in the same room. It’s just overwhelming for her. It’s too much to absorb in one sitting.

 

“Why did you keep it from everyone?” Nayeon’s voice breaks but her expression remains completely blank.

 

“Because I don’t want to look back in the past,” Jeongyeon says casually. Like her friendship with Nayeon didn’t matter. It’s as if she wanted to disown the person she was before she changed her name.

 

“So she’s the urban legend?” Chaeyoung nods at Jeongyeon and looks at Mina for confirmation.

 

“What?” Jihyo, Nayeon, Jeongyeon, Momo, and Sana ask in unison.
 

“There’s this legend in our school where a former student was infected and everyone who said her name would be infected by the disease, too.” Dahyun explains to them.

 

Sana couldn’t help but snort. She tries, but sometimes there are people that she just can't understand.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jeongyeon lets out a humorless laugh “That’s stupid.”

“You know how those people are,” Chaeyoung shrugs. Tzuyu nods, agreeing with everything that Chaeyoung says.

 

“You’re not one of them?” Jeongyeon smirks. 

 

“Careful with your words, Yoo.” Mina glares at her.

 

The tall girl raises both her hands as if surrendering. “Nope,” Chaeyoung says, popping the ‘p’, “I’m not scared. Like you said, it’s stupid.”

 

“Wait,” Sana furrows her eyebrows. “If you’re from Xavier then how come you don’t know all about this?”

 

“Tzuyu and I were studying in Seoul. We transferred in high school.” Dahyun explains.

 

“I was homeschooled,” Chaeyoung raises her hand.

 

Jihyo whistles. “Too much for welcoming the new girl.” 

 

Jeongyeon looks at Chaeyoung and then at Nayeon. She shakes her head and clicks her tongue. “I’m out of here,” she stands up.

 

“Kyungwan—“ Nayeon’s cut short.

 

“Don’t call me that,” She inhales sharply. “I don’t want any memory of that name, okay? It’s something I don’t want to remember.”

 

The whole room goes completely still and Jeongyeon eyes them one by one. The only sound’s the distant wave of the sea. Sana purses her lips together, afraid to break the silence. 

 

“I need air,” Jeongyeon slams the door.

 

All of them let out the breath they’ve all been holding. Sana reaches for Nayeon’s hand and holds it tightly. 

 

Mina cancels the band practice and sends them home.

 

The next day, Jeongyeon comes to Jihyo, Sana, and Momo to apologize for her behavior. The three told her that they understand the way she acted and why she doesn’t want to look back at her past anymore. 

 

It wasn’t easy, what Jeongyeon went through and Sana made a promise to herself that she will take care of Jeongyeon more since she fulfilled her promise to Nayeon. It’s time that she pays back for everything that Jeongyeon has done for her.

 

Jeongyeon also told them that she already talked to Nayeon and apologized, too. And  for some reason, that makes Sana feel lighter. She hopes that she’ll get to see them be more comfortable around each other.

 

Jihyo tells Jeongyeon to apologize to Dahyun Chaeyoung, and Tzuyu too. She also makes sure that she talks to Mina and resolves whatever it is that goes on with their friendship. It has been years, anyway, since Jeongyeon talked to Mina properly. Mina was left alone, confused and had no idea what happened to her.

 

After Jeongyeon talks to all of them, the heavy and ignored tension between Mina and Jeongyeon evaporates although there’s still a bit of awkwardness between them. Nayeon and Jeongyeon are talking casually now, too. 

 

The group always attends the band practice and Jihyo says that the room feels more alive ever since they formed as nine. Like something would feel off if they’re missing one member. Or if they didn’t meet each other at some point in life.

 

It’s cringey but Sana totally gets what Jihyo means by that.

 

-------------------

 

“So… ?” Sana asks Dahyun, still unsure about the other girl’s reaction.

 

Lately, Sana has been spending more time with Dahyun than any person in her life right now. Even if she’s at work, Dahyun would be outside waiting for her and would walk her to the bus stop after her shift.

 

When she’s not at work, Dahyun would invite Sana over to ‘hang out’ and talk about anything, really. Sana has developed a whole new level of affection for the other. Even if Dahyun’s just sitting there in silence, Sana would still find herself entertained by her mere presence.

 

If she has time after school Sana would go to Dahyun’s house immediately where the girl is waiting with a tub of ice cream. Then Dahyun would turn on her TV and Sana would choose a really boring movie so she wouldn’t mind missing the entire film because she’d rather watch Dahyun’s reactions. The way she gasps or shouts at the character when they do something stupid or the way her forehead creases while trying to figure out the plot twist.

 

Every time she’s with her, Sana would turn off her phone because she’d rather have a very dumb and random conversation with Dahyun whether or not aliens are real or if it’s true that the ancient civilization are more advanced than the world today. 

 

Sometimes Dahyun would challenge her to a game of super smash bros ultimate and Sana would let her win just to see the huge smile on her face and the way Dahyun would raise her fist and wave it in victory. Or Dahyun would show her around her island in animal crossing, priding herself with her rare villagers.

 

Right now, the two of them are lying on their stomachs on Dahyun’s pink persian carpet in her room. Dahyun offered to proofread her essay and Sana knows how to be grateful even for the smallest things so she did not turn down the offer.

 

“Well,” It only takes one deep inhale from Dahyun for Sana to know that she messed up. Sana pouts and her shoulders sag. “Wha—wait, no. Please don’t be discouraged.” Dahyun bumps her shoulders.

 

It doesn’t help, though. Sana covers her head and grunts dramatically.

 

“It’s just that there are very minor grammatical errors and your intro, body, and conclusion are all over the place. We can sort it out.” Sana detects hesitation in Dahyun’s tone. “Yeah, we can sort it out.” 

 

“Forget it. Give it to me.”

 

“What? No!” Dahyun hides the paper behind her back.

 

“My teacher wouldn’t care how good or bad it is. She’ll even be surprised I took the effort of writing it.”

 

“Which is why I’m not letting your efforts go to waste. Let me help you with this one.”

 

Sana shrugs and lets the girl do whatever she wants. Dahyun immediately immerses herself into the pool of words and channels her inner Shakespeare. 

 

She finds it cute how her forehead creases or when she sticks her tongue out while concentrating. Sana doesn’t let the opportunity pass to poke when Dahyun absentmindedly blows her cheeks. The other girl freezes for a second then laughs with Sana when she realizes.

 

Her eyes are glued to Dahyun while she writes. She has no idea how long she has been staring when Dahyun gives her essay back. But she knows that time wasn’t enough and wants more excuses to stare at her.

 

“Done?” Sana asks, bewildered.

 

Dahyun nods. Sana’s amazed by how quickly Dahyun finished her essay. But then again, it’s Dahyun and Sana thinks there’s nothing she can’t do in this world. She’s perfect that way.

 

Sana borrows a pen from Dahyun’s dubu pencil case and rewrites her essay. Beside her, the other girl pulls her planner and scribbles.

 

She has the attention span of a toddler. Everyone knows this. She just can’t concentrate or focus on something for so long.

 

For example, right now, she should be writing down her essay. But instead of doing that, her eyes are on Dahyun, appreciating her long eyelashes and dark brown eyes. Sana smiles to herself and puts her pen down.

 

Dahyun looks up at her and bites back a laugh. “What is it?”

 

Sana chuckles. “Nothing.”

 

“Sana, just tell me what it is,” Dahyun continues writing.

 

“It’s just.. You’re so beautiful.” Sana bites her lips.

 

“Thank you. You’re beautiful, too.” A beat. Dahyun looks her in the eyes exactly the way it makes Sana’s heart leap. “And you have a neat handwriting.”

 

Sana shakes her head and grins widely. She peeks at Dahyun’s planner. “What are you doing?”

 

“Planning for English week.”

 

“I thought you’re the student council president. Not the english club president.”

 

“I pretty much do everything so…” Dahyun tilts her head and lets the words follow behind.

 

“My poor dahyunnie” Sana pouts and Dahyun mirrors “Wait does that mean you’re gonna be busy next week?”

 

“It appears so.”

 

“Does that mean I won’t see you?” She can’t remember the feeling of not seeing Dahyun every now and then but she’s sure as hell it isn’t going to feel good. Even the thought alone makes Sana feel nauseous.

 

“What? Of course not! I’ll always make time for you. I can… “ Dahyun looks at her planner and raises her pen “walk you to the bus stop on Thursday night!” Then she scribbles something on the paper “What about you? Are you busy by then?”

 

Sana presses her cheek on Dahyun’s shoulder and hums. Ignoring the way it makes Dahyun’s body twitch a little in surprise. “Just the usual. We don’t celebrate english week at our school. And I don’t mind spending all my time with you. I don’t have anything better to do anyway.”

 

Sana shifts and she can feel Dahyun's lips hovering on her cheeks. It’s barely there, light as a feather, but she can feel it. She can feel the other girl’s jagged breathing against her. The tension is so palpable you could cut it with a knife. 

 

Her body freezes and her thoughts jump from don’t move to just do it multiple times in a millisecond. Something inside her aches. Something new and insubstantial yet so real. Something she has been keeping to herself because she doesn’t have the courage to say out loud just yet.

 

They remain shoulder to shoulder. Their pinkies are almost touching. She could feel her nose brushing against her right cheek gingerly and she lets it. Trying her best to relish the feeling. Sana convinces herself she has gone insane. Insane for the girl beside her.

 

Someone knocks on the door loudly. They pull away from each other like they have just been dispelled from black magic. Something too powerful for the two of them to ignore but they keep on doing so. Their widened gazes meet and are cut short by another knock. Rapid. Just like her heart.

 

Dahyun clears and tells the person on the other side of the door to come in. Her housekeeper enters with a tray of snacks and juice. 

 

She leaves the two alone again. Both acting like nothing just happened because it’s true. 

 

Nothing just happened. 

 

Sana pushes the back door and fishes her phone out her pocket. She just finished her work shift and Dahyun texted her that she couldn’t walk her to the bus stop tonight. She types her reply, saying it’s okay.

 

It has been almost a week since she last saw Dahyun. Yes, they talk on the phone. But it’s not the same when they’re talking in her room with their indoor voices and bodies pressing closely against each other. She wants to be with her as soon as possible.

 

Instead of walking to the bus stop, she had another idea in her mind. She goes back inside, surprising Seulgi. She smiles at her and carries on with her idea.

 

She hums some songs while swaying her hand. The walk from the convenience store to Dahyun’s beach house isn’t long. But she has to admit Dahyun’s missing presence makes her a bit lonely because the other girl’s always with her. 

 

When she arrives at Dahyun’s house she politely greets the housekeeper and tiptoes to Dahyun’s bedroom. Carefully, she opens the door, making sure not to make any sound. On Dahyun’s study table lies a pile of schoolwork and responsibilities.

 

She sees Dahyun on the balcony, looking at the sky. Sana stops on her feet and takes a moment to appreciate the view. Dahyun’s back is facing her. The moonlight bounces softly off her pale skin. The distant roar of the waves makes it more sentimental. 

 

She takes light steps towards her and the other girl seems not to notice. Sana’s grin widens and engulfs the girl with a back hug. “Hey,” she whispers to her ear.

 

Dahyun wasn’t surprised. Like she has been expecting her. She lets out a soft giggle and says “Hey.”

 

Sana turns her around. Dahyun’s arms find their way around Sana’s neck. Sana puts both her arms around Dahyun’s small waist and bends lower because of their height difference. Their foreheads rest against each other. They are so close to each other it makes Sana feel a bit dizzy. 

 

“I know your footsteps,” Dahyun says in a soft tone. The other girl rests her head on Sana’s shoulder. “You’re like a breath of fresh air.”

 

Sana sways and Dahyun follows. “Tired?”

 

Dahyun hums and notices the bag in Sana's hand. “Are those for me?” Sana nods and Dahyun squeals “You didn’t have to.”

 

“I want to,” she insists. Sana puts the bag of sweets on Dahyun’s hand and places her hand on top of hers. “You’ve been working too hard this week.”

 

“I’m sorry I can’t meet you often. I promise I’ll make it up to you next week.”
 

Sana hums and tightens her hug. She knows Dahyun will. “I have to go. I’ll miss the last bus.” 

 

Dahyun tugs the sleeves of Sana’s shirt. Sana pulls away and looks at the other girl’s eyes. Like she’s begging her not to go or asking her to stay the night.

 

She wishes Dahyun did. But no. Slowly, Dahyun removes her grip from her shirt and looks at the ground. “Night,” she says.

 

Sana inhales deeply and nods. Not saying another word, she walks towards the door slowly. Just in case Dahyun changes her mind.

 

Nobody stops her. Outside, she looks back to Dahyun’s balcony and the other girl’s nowhere to be found. 

 

She continues walking to the bus stop, practically dragging herself like a zombie. She’s preoccupied with thoughts she knows she shouldn’t have. Her mind's filled with so many theories she feels like she’s in another realm up there. A realm full of Dahyun. 

 

She still has fifteen minutes until the bus arrives. Without thinking, she impulsively goes back to Dahyun’s house. She takes bigger steps and runs like her life depends on it. 

 

The housekeeper lets her in without a question. When she’s at Dahyun’s bedroom door, she fixes her hair and catches her breath. She flies the door open.

 

“I can’t do this anymore,” Sana removes her backpack and lets it fall to the ground.

 

Dahyun looks up at her, surprised to see her again. “Can’t do what?”

 

Sana holds Dahyun’s shoulder and tries to calm herself. She places a strand of hair behind Dahyun’s ear and looks closely. She swallows a lump in . Dahyun’s so perfect that Sana’s grateful to be in the same room as hers. But that does not soothe anything. It wasn’t enough to satisfy her longing, her wanting, for Dahyun.

 

She just can’t play this game with her anymore. Too many riddles and puzzles keep her up at night. Too many new feelings Sana hasn't felt before. She doesn’t know what to do with it to the point that she always feels like she’s gonna explode anytime. And she just can’t take it anymore.

 

Sana walks toward Dahyun and wraps her arms around her waist. She pulls her closer until their faces are just an inch away. Sana can feel the way Dahyun’s chest moves up and down lightly. She could hear her heart beating loudly, too.

 

Is she scared? Yes, of course. This is the most scared she’s ever been in her entire life. But is she gonna bail? Can she really go another day without answers? No. She doesn’t think so.

 

Her mind goes tell her tell her tell her but her body has another plan.

 

“Kiss me, Dahyun.” Sana says in a hushed voice.

 

“I don’t know how.”

 

“ it,” Sana’s lips find Dahyun’s.

 

Her lips feel soft and taste like vanilla and there’s something raw in the way it away all the doubts and questions Sana has. Dahyun tiptoes and drapes both her arms around Sana’s neck. Sana guides Dahyun slowly to her bed. She reaches for the bedside table for support and accidentally topples over something she’s too absorbed to care about. 

 

Both of them move their lips carefully, unsure of how it works, but as they figure it out, Sana feels a surge of heat rise from her tummy to her chest. She opens her lips and feels a flood of warmth rushing over her, curling her fingers against the other girl’s clothes, holding for dear life and unfurling all her senses as the taste of her nearly silenced all her worries. Dahyun's lips brush against hers softly, and her pulse skips a beat, her scent captivating beyond explanation. 

 

She falls into the sinkhole of uncharted emotions. It’s frightening how she’s falling deeper into the abyss and she has no idea how it’ll end. But it’s Dahyun, and there is not a single thing Sana wouldn’t do for her. Even if it means the whole world was against her.

 

But this time, right at this moment, the world didn’t matter to the both of them.

 

Their kiss becomes more heated.

 

Who cares if love is a disease anyway? 

 

Sana’s hand finds its way under Dahyun’s shirt.

 

If love was the deadliest among deadly things, then why does Sana feel more alive than she has ever been? 

 

Dahyun digs her nails on Sana’s neck and pulls her closer desperately.

 

And if this was all wrong then why is it that their lips, their wandering hands, the curves of their bodies fit so perfectly it makes Sana's heart ache and crave more? 

 

The two pull away from the kiss to breathe. Sana grips Dahyun’s hair and kisses her again.

 

If this is all wrong then why does it feel so right?

 

They deepen their kiss, a little less sloppier than the one earlier.

 

Sana doesn’t mind if they think she has been infected. If anything, she wants Dahyun to plague her like a disease until it reaches the core of her heart and it stops. 

 

Dahyun pulls the collar of Sana’s shirt down and kisses the part below her collarbone lightly at first then on it.

 

She just wants to give her everything to Dahyun and she doesn’t care what it takes for them to be together. 

 

They kiss again until they’re out of breath.

 

While they savor their moment together, a book lies untouched on the floor, opened to a page says:

 

"These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite. Therefore love moderately; long love doth so. Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow." (Shakespeare Romeo and Juliet 2.6.11)

 

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