Miyoung sips her tea in an attempt to stay awake. It is way past her bedtime and her eyelids are protesting but she is determined to treasure every last minute she has with Taenggu. So she takes another sip as Taenggu tells her about the time she tried to climb a tree when she was very young. She ended up falling and cutting her chin on a rock.

“I bled a lot and I remember crying a lot because I thought I was going to die.”

Miyoung giggles at the mental image of a crying kid Taenggu. “That must have been both terrifying and adorable.”

“Mostly terrifying. My parents scolded me very badly after I stopped bleeding.” Taenggu touches her chin. “They were afraid I would scar but fortunately, all that remains is a faint line in the cleft of my chin.”

Feeling curious about the scar, Miyoung leans toward Taenggu and stares at her chin, searching for a trace of the cut. “I can’t see it.”

“It’s right here.” Taenggu points at a spot below her bottom lip. “Here.”

Miyoung leans closer, stopping an inch from Taenggu’s chin and examines it. “It must be really faint. I still can’t s—” Lips press on hers and she jumps back in shock. “T-Taenggu.” Said girl is grinning and Miyoung realizes she might have been had. “Is there really a scar?” she asks, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Taenggu grins wide, opening in silent laughter. “Yes, there is. But it’s not on my chin.”

“Taenggu!” Miyoung chides her companion half-heartedly for she is beginning to laugh too. “So where is the scar?”

“Here,” says Taenggu, pointing at her cheek.

“Taenggu, be serious!”

“Okay,” says Taenggu with a laugh and sweeps her hair from her forehead. “Here. At the side.”

Miyoung touches Taenggu’s temple, her thumb over the faintest scar. “Poor little Taenggu. You must have cried a lot.”

“Those were cheap tears.”

“Don’t say that.”

“A child’s tears aren’t worth much.”

“Tears are always worth something.”

“Your tears are precious.”

Miyoung shakes her head. “My tears change nothing.”

“That’s not true. Your tears would break my heart.”

Moved beyond words by Taenggu’s sweet admission, Miyoung puts her arms around the young woman and nestles her head on the shoulder that seems to be made for her. For a while, they sit like that, holding on to each other. The night is quiet and the moon supplies just enough light to cast an eerie cloak of visibility over the land outside. The candle on the table burns on, giving them a warm glow. Some insects are calling for their mates.

“Is Taenggu your real name?” Miyoung asks at last. Talking about this makes it seem even more final but she can’t let Taenggu leave without knowing her real name.

“No.” Taenggu’s hand rubs up and down Miyoung’s arm, comforting her somehow. “My name is Taeyeon. Kim Taeyeon. And my brother is Kim Heecheol.”

“Heechul?”

Taenggu nods.

“I knew it. Your story didn’t make sense at all.”

“I’ve never told anyone that I have a brother. It just slipped out that day and that was the best story I could come up with on the fly.”

Miyoung giggles. “You need to get better at this identity hiding thing.”

Taenggu pouts. “I’m good at it. I’m only bad at it when I’m with you.”

“Oh, so you’re blaming me for this?”

“I’m saying you’re too attractive for me.”

This puts a big smile on Miyoung’s face. “Taeyeon.”

“I miss being called Taeyeon. It’s been months . . .”

“Taeyeon.”

“Mmm?”

“Taeyeon.”

“What is it?”

“I’m going to call you Taeyeon all night.”

“Don’t make it a habit.”

“I won’t.”

“Miyoung.”

“Yes?”

“Miyoung.”

The young mistress smiles. “Taeyeon.”

“Miyoung.”

“Taeyeon.”

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