2 yrs. 10 mon. 23 days. 10 hrs. 1 min. 7 sec.

Sejeong knows her countdown by heart. She looks at it at least once every hour, wondering if the numbers inked on her skin ever drastically change – if her soulmate magically, miraculously, ever change their mind and say ‘I love you’ sooner than the heavens planned.

But it never does.

Twenty four years, four minutes, and three seconds from the moment she was born. Two years, ten months, twenty-three days, ten hours, a minute and seven seconds from this moment. Sometimes she scratches it, hoping it’d change the numbers. But it never does.

Most of the time, when her eyes won’t meet her best friend’s, she stares at her wrist, ignores the chills creeping up the back of her neck, and looks forward to the words even though the countdown tells her not in a lot more years.

See, Sejeong’s one of those who care too much about the countdown. Most of her friends spare it a glance every now and then, knowing the numbers don’t skip at all and that there’s no use staring if the moment won’t come until a few years. A few others she knows don’t care for it at all, covering it with sleeves, and bracelets, and watches.

One of those few is Nayoung, the aforementioned best friend. Having been over at Nayoung’s house more than a few times since they became friends when Sejeong was in third grade and Nayoung in fourth and she was so excited to have an older friend only to find out Nayoung was - is - a huge dork; Sejeong’s familiar with the tradition of not looking at the countdown in their family. No one else can really see what’s written on your wrist, just like how you can’t see what’s on anyone else’s wrist. But Nayoung’s family refuse to look at their own wrists as well.

Ever since Nayoung was young, she had a bandage over her wrist. Nayoung’s mother says knowing the exact time your soulmate would first mutter the words ‘I love you’ to you takes the excitement out of the love. She says you feel a pinch on your wrist when they do, and the surprise is a feeling you’ll never forget your whole life.

That’s why Nayoung follows it religiously too, a different bandage on her wrist every week. She lets Sejeong write on it every Friday though, and that’s one pro.

Another pro is that Sejeong won’t feel the need to dread the moment Nayoung meets her soulmate. She won’t feel her the weight becoming heavier as the days come closer to the day.

She’ll just have to deal with it all at once. Fast, painful. Deadly.

“Sejeong, class ended.”

She looks up from Nayoung’s bandage and finds her mildly amused eyes staring back at her. She blinks to wake herself up from the trance, and looks around to find their classmates scampering out their seats. Sheepish, she scoops her things from the table and drops them in her open bag before zipping it close.

“You looked pretty daydream-y there, penny for your thoughts?” Nayoung asks as they stand, eyes teasing but voice soft.

Chuckling, she shakes her head. “I just didn’t have enough sleep last night. That paper is the death of me, seriously.”

“It wouldn’t be if you didn’t start it two days before deadline, Sejeong,” Nayoung reprimands, rolling her eyes sarcastically as she holds the door open for her. She sighs, as if she’s being forced to do something, and nudges Sejeong’s shoulder. “Let’s go skip our classes for the rest of the day and work on our papers?”

Sejeong raises an eyebrow, amused and challenging. “Kim Nayoung, skipping class?”

“Only so I can help my favorite person in the world,” the taller girl answers cheekily, grinning at her without even look at her. “Also, I’m not even halfway done with my own paper. I need to cram.”

//

2 yrs. 10 mon. 23 days. 7 hrs. 52 min. 9 sec.

“Hey, Sejeong, I’m going to get a refill on my coffee and a new slice of cake, you need something?” Nayoung asks as they’re in the middle of their work, papers and empty cups scattered around their laptops on the table. She stands, stretching her back and looking terribly tired.

Sejeong smiles. “Yes, please. You know my latest order?” she asks, because she always sticks to one order for a few weeks to months and then changes it completely. No one really bothers to remember it anymore.

Except Nayoung, who recites “Yes, ma’am. Hot café latte and a slice of the chocolatiest cake,” easily, smugly.

This makes Sejeong laugh. Nayoung always did listen to the smallest details. She grins up at her before saying “Oh my god, you know me so well, have I ever told you I love you for that?”

Nayoung trips over her shoelace, dropping her money on the floor as she falls down with it. She stares at Sejeong for a moment before actually trying to stand up and dust her pants off. “Uh.” She chuckles, but the sound comes out rattled. “Maybe you should say it more often?”

Sejeong stares concernedly at her, ignoring her words, and asks, “Are you okay?”

She blinks, fidgets with the bandage on her wrist like she always does when confused. “I just got dizzy for a moment there,” she insists, smiling, and then leaves to get their new batch of sweets and caffeine.

Sejeong shakes her head adoringly, staring at Nayoung’s retreating back. She always was one of the clumsiest people Sejeong ever had the luck of meeting.

//

2 yrs. 10 mon. 22 days. 23 hrs. 55 min. 2 sec.

They finish their paper a few minutes before midnight, eyes red, arms sore, and hearts palpitating at the caffeine.

Admittedly, it takes way longer than it should have if they did the papers alone, Sejeong is thankful for the company. Without Nayoung’s somehow witty insults and remarks, and her long legs stretching, making her feet kick Sejeong’s shin every now and then – both “accidentally” and on purpose, Sejeong isn’t sure she’d make it out of the coffee shop alive. Or, well, still wanting to be alive.

Sejeong isn’t sure she’d make it out of anywhere alive without Nayoung. They’ve been friends for so long that a world without her is just… impossible. Even in her worst nightmares, Nayoung’s there holding her hand and assuring her everything will be okay.

The taller is first to stand, stretching her arms upwards as she yawns. Then she leans on her hands over the table, staring at Sejeong curiously, making Sejeong look away. “Sejeong.”

“Hm?” Sejeong hums, trying to organize her papers and pencils while also rubbing her eyes with one hand. It’s probably turning red, and she knows better than to rub her eyes when they’re tired, but she forgot her eye drops at her bedside table and this is her way of avoiding Nayoung’s intense stare.

Nayoung grabs her hand and pulls it down, frowning. “You’ll scratch your cornea.”

She scowls at her. “I’ve had enough of the big words today, Nayoung.” She sighs, leaning back on her chair to stare at the open document on her laptop screen, proud smile creeping up her face. Her shoulders lift, and she says, “I did it! I finished the paper!”

“I did, like, half of your paper,” Nayoung reminds her, carelessly dropping her pens in her backpack after the laptop. She points to the phone lying screen side up on the table. “You might forget your phone.”

The younger’s eyes widen, and then she grabs her phone and turns it on, chewing her lower lip.

Nayoung quirks an eyebrow at her but she ignores it, annoyed at herself. When her phone finally lights up, her shoulders droop as she lets her head roll back, groan escaping her lips.

“What is it?”

“I forgot to call my mom to tell her I’m going to be late.” She lifts her head and stares sadly at Nayoung, before adding, “And I was planning on making her something for her birthday tomorrow.”

Nayoung shrugs easily. “Let’s go buy her a cake,” she suggests, and Sejeong’s heart flutters at the “let us”. She looks up and finds Nayoung smiling sweetly at her, eyes widened to show her she’s waiting.

Her heart smiles back. “It’s midnight, your mom would get mad if you arrive later than two am.”

“I’ll just tell her I’m sleeping over at yours,” she replies like it’s the most obvious excuse - which it is because they have slept over at each other’s houses so many times that they even have their own toothbrushes at each house, and keys. They have keys to each other’s houses and rooms. “And I’ll tell her it’s your mom’s birthday, so that means you probably have to sleep over at mine the night before my mom’s birthday.”

Sejeong beams. “Sure. Mom would be ecstatic that you’re there. She’s been complaining over the lack of Nayoung these days.”

“I knew I was the favorite,” Nayoung exclaims proudly, grinning at Sejeong. Then she drapes her arm around the younger and drags her to the counter so they can pick a still whole cake.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Sejeong murmurs, melting into Nayoung’s warmth as she adjusts her backpack.

Nayoung stiffens, takes a deep breath. Then she laughs. “Yeah. You have.”

//

2 yrs. 10 mon. 22 days. 22 hrs. 32 min. 6 sec.

Sejeong was right, her mom was ecstatic when she saw Nayoung walk in after Sejeong, rant dying on her now smiling lips.

“Nayoung!”

The girl looks up from her sock clad feet, eyes smiling back. “Hi!” She exclaims, diving in for a hug.

It makes Sejeong snort, how lovey-dovey those two are to each other. It’s annoying how close those two are - always siding with each other when the mother-daughter tandem fights. And they both claim they’re Sejeong’s best friends.

She huffs, frowning. But the urge to smile takes over and she grins at them both before asking: “Can I join the emotional reunion and hug?”

Her mom pulls away from Nayoung, frowns, then shakes her head. “Nope.”

“Sorry, Sejeong, your mom has spoken,” says a smug Nayoung. “It’s a no. I told you I’m the favorite.”

But it only really takes a small pout from Sejeong for the two women to laughingly drag her in the group hug, and all she can focus on in the smile on her mother’s face, and the sparkle in Nayoung’s eyes, and just how beautiful they could be.

//

2 yrs. 10 mon. 22 days. 21 hrs. 2 min. 6 sec.

Her mom offered to cook them something greasy, and Nayoung first declined but they both know that there is no declining when it comes to Sejeong’s mother. So they complied and sat themselves down in front of the TV, both wearing Sejeong’s pajamas and feasting on the cake they bought.

The screen plays the usual dumb but adorable cartoon character, but neither of them are paying attention to it. Instead, they sit cross legged, facing each other, an open pack of chips in the middle.

Sejeong juts her chin towards Nayoung’s bandage, hand reaching inside the pack to get a handful of chips as she asks, “You still won’t look tomorrow?”

Despite Nayoung’s family having the tradition of not looking at the countdown, they’re not exactly forbidden to look at it. And Nayoung has told Sejeong countless times before that she might peek once, just because her curiosity’s killing her. Sejeong never forgets to ask every Friday, or Thursday, whether or not Nayoung would peek when the bandage is changed.

After a pause spent with both of them staring intensely at Nayoung’s wrist, Nayoung shrugs. “I probably will. I most probably will.” Her lashes sweep up, and then her eyes focus on Sejeong’s eyes, pulling them closer and closer and closer, until Nayoung retracts her gaze and studies her bandage instead.

“Really?” Sejeong queries, almost laughs. “Why?”

“To check something.”

She leans closer teasingly, eyes glinting mischievously, and whispers, “You found someone you’re hoping to be your soulmate? Who is it? Hana? Or Mimi?”

“First of all,” Nayoung starts, poking Sejeong’s head and pushing her back, smile gracing her lips, “Hana is hot. 10/10 would love to be my soulmate-” Sejeong tries not to flinch too much at that, tries not to hurl “-but, she’s Sojin’s girlfriend and Sojin’s an obnoxious brat, but she’s my friend. So, nope, not hoping it’s Hana at all. Secondly, Mimi?” She almost laughs at the disgusted look Nayoung shoots her, almost falls deeper. “I’d much rather date Haebin than that twerp.”

Conceding to the urge to laugh, Sejeong does. She laughs both out of amusement and relief. Not one of their friends, then. Although, it could be that Chinese student Sojin’s touring around. “Is it Xi-”

“If you say Xiening, I will slit your throat,” Nayoung abruptly interrupts, glaring. “That kid put me in a headlock the first day we met, remember? Because I teased Sojin and I’m not supposed to Korean.”

Again, Sejeong laughs. “You know, Sojin and Xiening would look good together. I ship it.”

“Sojin’s dating our best friend, remember? We’re team Hana, kid,” Nayoung reminds her, tapping her head with the pen she’s been spinning since earlier. She shifts, rolls her shoulders, and flips her hair back and Sejeong can’t help but focus on the mole on her neck exposed.

“But, I guess it really doesn’t matter which ship we ship. All that matters is which ship the heavens ship,” she says, but Sejeong’s still staring at her mole. She almost reaches forward to try and brush it off, but instead she swallows and meets Nayoung’s eyes. “And that’s Sojin and Hana, The Soulmates.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

There it is again, the tension between them, as Nayoung studies her eyes. It’s like Nayoung’s staring at her with new, clearer eyes. Like there’s something she never noticed before and it’s just so damn pretty that she can’t help but stare.

They’re pulled into a vortex in each other’s eyes, both trying to figure out the mysteries and at the same time building their own walls against the prying eyes. Both scared – Sejeong can see in Nayoung’s eyes the fear she feels – but both, at the same time, safe.

It’s like an unspoken thing between them, the stare-downs and the gentle touches. Unspoken that they should always just brush it off things best friends of fourteen years do.

But do friends look at each other like that? Do friends give out that kind of warmth for each other? And neither of them ends up cold, because they always share it – the warmth. Do friends do that?

Sejeong hates the term ‘just friends’ because ‘just’ friends is more than enough for her, more than enough for her to breathe and live. She’d take being best friends with Nayoung any time over the possibility of her maybe liking her back but not being her soulmate, the one outside forces will always throw her to.

Her mother walks in the room, places a plate of fried chicken on the table, and the connection is broken. And as usual, it remains buried, unsaid. Not forgotten, just avoided.

Sejeong wonders when they’ll ever stop avoiding it.

//

2 yrs. 10 mon. 22 days. 15 hrs. 3 min.

Sejeong wakes up first, sunlight filtering in through her blinds. There’s an arm over her head, and her feet are tangled with another pair of cold feet, and her own arm is splayed over the other occupant of her bed’s stomach. Groaning, she pulls the arm off her face, keeps the hand in hers, and sits up.

There she is. Sejeong almost laughs at the frown on her face and her lips puckering, almost caves into the temptation of more cuddles and skipping class in Nayoung’s arms, but she knows that’s not the responsible thing to do, nor the platonic thing to do.

So she flicks Nayoung’s nose and watches in amusement as Nayoung jerks away, face crumpling and arm raising in defense. “The -” she sits up, glances around the room, and her gaze lands on a grinning Sejeong. She grins too. “Morning!”

“Good morning. I can’t believe I woke up before you, I thought that was impossible,” Sejeong says as she climbs off her bed, and walks across her cold floor. She opens her closet and looks back at Nayoung – staring at her sleepily and sitting cross legged in the middle of her bed – before saying “You took your clothes home last weekend. You said you were going to wash them then bring them back.”

Nayoung blinks, fingers reaching to run through her hair. She closes one eye, stares, and her dry lips, face distorting into a disgusted frown at the unpleasant feeling. “You mean I’m going to need to wear something of yours?”

Sejeong nods enthusiastically. It’s not really a secret that Nayoung despises Sejeong’s closet, full of clothes of different materials and designs, none of them seeming to fit as a pair.

A groan, a head rolling back in defeat. “I shouldn’t have brought home my clothes,” Nayoung grumbles in a little too late regret before rolling her eyes and jumping out of Sejeong’s bed. She wobbles as she clumsily lands on her feet, and Sejeong holds out a hand to keep her from falling. But Nayoung manages to steady herself, and she grins smugly at Sejeong as she walks to her.

“You have any monochrome clothes? Or button up shirts? Anything red, or? Do you have shorts? Or do you only have mom jeans?”

With one swift motion, Nayoung’s pushed into the closet by a half-annoyed half-chuckling Sejeong. She really couldn’t care less what people say about her clothes, but Nayoung can be infuriating sometimes, and she deserves a good push.

Muffled by the clothes, however, Nayoung still speaks: “What are thoooose?”

//

2 yrs. 10 mon. 22 days. 14 hrs. 22 min.

Nayoung complains about an upset stomach at breakfast, already clad in an oversized white sweater and the only good pair of jeans Sejeong has that reaches her ankles. At least Sejeong has some new underwear.

She complains about her stomach acting up the whole morning, and Sejeong’s mom tells her to drive home and rest for the day. Nayoung complies through bacon filled mouth and a pout on her lips. She still drives Sejeong to their university though, and she buys her a cup of coffee on their way.

But Sejeong can’t help but feel sad that she’ll spend a day without Nayoung, like she always does when either of them are too busy for a quick meet up. They’ve been friends for too long, their roots are tangled and Sejeong just doesn’t know any more if life without Nayoung is possible.

She doesn’t know if sharing Nayoung’s attention with her soulmate is something she can survive.

//

2 yrs. 10 mon. 21 days. 9 hrs. 43 min.

It comes like a bucket of cold water splashed over Sejeong. It comes like a bullet to her heart, passing through, bouncing against the wall, and zooming back into her heart, and then repeat process. It comes like the feeling of numbness in her knees, eyes widening and lips opening and closing like a little fish’s.

Nayoung enters the restaurant their group of friends like eating at – the one near Hyeyeon’s and Mina’s high school that the older ones graduated in – wearing a huge grin and raising her right hand excitedly.

Sejeong almost doesn’t notice, too blinded by Nayoung’s smile to notice anything else, really. Too preoccupied by the calm washing over her heart at the sight of Nayoung’s eyes. She only notices as Haebin says: “Did Nayoung take her bandage off?”

She blinks, remembers their conversation Thursday night. Well, Friday midnight.

It’s Mimi who asks excitedly how long is left in Nayoung’s countdown. It’s Hana, snug under Sojin’s arms, who claps her hand really loudly at Nayoung saying it’s zero, and that’s why she took the bandage off.

It’s Sejeong whose heart breaks.

There’s buzzing in her ear as Nayoung sits beside her, her usual and permanent spot. There’s hammering in her head as Nayoung smiles at her widely, proudly. Happily.

“Wow,” she breathes out, leaving her lungs deflated inside her ribcage, her heart turning into ash. “You found your soulmate!” She winces, feels Haebin’s eyes on her.

Nayoung doesn’t notice anything, only practically bouncing in excitement. “I did.”

“Who is it?” Sojin asks, leaning forward and listening intently. “Is it anyone we know? Is it Suhyun from Music class, or Nahyun from Art class? Just saying, I totally ship you and Suhyun.” Then, Sojin’s eyes widen. “Please don’t tell me it’s Sanghyuk.”

The center of attention shakes her head, laughing. “Thank god, no. It’s not Sanghyuk. I’d kill myself if it was.”

“So, who is it?” Xiening queries, looking uncomfortable as she’s pushed to the wall beside Sojin, the bench not long enough for her, Sojin, and Hana.

Nayoung shrugs. Mimi groans, throws a chopstick at her. “Stop feeding off the attention. Just tell us already.”

“I can’t,” is Nayoung’s tight lipped reply.

Haebin shifts beside Sejeong, leans over the table so she can send Nayoung a look. “Is it- is it one of us?”

“Do any of you even ever say you love me?” Nayoung jokingly asks, chuckling at Haebin. But she doesn’t meet anyone else’s eyes except Xiening’s – the only clueless one out of them. But even Xiening can smell the bull.

“, it is one of us!” Mimi exclaims, flinching away and horrified. She moves the chair they placed at the end of the table so she’s nearer to Hana than to Nayoung. “Please don’t tell me it’s me. Please.”

Another horrified look, this time from Nayoung, and the other occupants of the table laugh. “Oh dear god, no. No, oh my god, no.” She shudders visibly, inching closer to Sejeong to widen the distance between her and Mimi. “God, no.”

Mimi scowls. “Okay, joke’s taken too far. It’s not that bad to be my soulmate, is it?” She asks, dragging her chair back to where it was. The others send each other looks, making Mimi’s jaw drop. “Oh my god.”

“Well,” Hana starts, mischievous smile on , “as someone who’ve been friends with you ever since we were toddlers, I can say you’re…” she avoids Mimi’s warning glares, making Haebin choke on her laughter, “not the best soulmate.”

“Oh my god, you’re horrible,” Mimi grumbles. Then, her gaze lands on her wrist, she stares.

Nayoung asks, “Still blank?”

“Yeah,” the older answers, blinking. “Is it possible to not have a soulmate?”

“I heard of people whose soulmates said they loved them from when they were kids, and so they have no recollection or whatsoever of the countdown on their wrists,” Haebin says, trying to reassure Mimi.

This prompts Hana to laugh. “What if it’s Hongbin?”

“, no.” Mimi sulks, shrinking in her seat.

Hana leaves the safety of Sojin’s embrace for a moment, leaning so she can tap Mimi’s wrist that way she does that might seem awkward but is reeking with years of strong friendship. She smiles gently. “Hey, even if you don’t have a soulmate, I’m here to be your soul sister. Sojin and I will adopt you,” she says, looking at Sojin like she’s not asking for approval, it’s done, “And the family dog, Hongbin, will be there to keep you company when your moms are away.”

Mimi furrows her brows, lip curling in distaste. “I don’t want to call you both mommy.”

And just like that, everyone laughs and the conversation shifts to Nayoung again. There’s a guessing contest as Nayoung simply smiles smugly at them, shaking her head every other question, and shrugging at the other half. But Sejeong doesn’t pay attention, doesn’t - cannot - listen without her heart wanting to jump out of its cage and stand tall in the middle of the street, daring anyone to crush it.

Instead, Sejeong keeps her gaze on Mimi and watches her eyebrows shake, creases forming between them. Watches the older girl’s eyes focus on Nayoung, rolls, then focuses on Hana, shaking in laughter under Sojin’s arm at every ridiculous guess coming from Xiening’s mouth. And something - something that was always there, but Sejeong never really noticed - swims in her irises. Some kind of suppressed pain and suffering, some kind of longing.

Maybe Sejeong had noticed it before. But she brushed it off as jealousy - envy, actually - since Hana and Sojin found out they were soulmates months ago, and, well, Mimi doesn’t have a count down. But now that she actually studies Mimi’s eyes - it’s different.

Soft, mischievous eyes move and sees hers. An eyebrow , questioning, corner of mouth twitching in self-consciousness and a question not meant to be muttered out loud. What? She almost hears, in that slightly amused, slightly confused Mimi-voice.

She smiles softly, tight lipped, and shakes her head. She’s not alone, then, in this group of friends. She’s not the only one idiotic enough to fall for someone not meant for her.

Her gaze meets Mimi’s again, sadness mixing with longing between the currents, and she almost sobs at the pain mirroring hers. But she scoffs, shakes her head, and lets out an amused chuckle.

“What?” Nayoung asks from beside her, her own lips shaped in a curious smile. “What’s funny?”

Sejeong shakes her head. “Nothing, I just-”

“I made a face,” Mimi answers, rolling her eyes. “Who knew Sejeong had such a childish sense of humor?”

The others shrug, accepting the lie, and go back to their conversation - which now shifted to Mina and Hyeyeon’s little play in school. She smiles at Mimi, Mimi smiles back. And yet, it’s not enough to make them feel any less ty.

//

The weeks pass by in splashes of colors and feelings of fear that everything changes. But nothing does.

The months fly by with a palm over Sejeong’s stomach and a body against her back, Nayoung chuckling softly against her ear at every incredulous joke from Hyeyeon and stupid, clearly made up stories from Xiening. They’re still them. Nayoung and Sejeong. Sejeong and Nayoung. Them against the whole ing world.

//

2 yrs. 7 mon. 15 days. 23 hrs. 13 min. 2 sec.

“Nayoung, come on,” Sejeong prods, chest rising and falling and a thin sheet of sweat visible on her neck and chest. “Why is the place so high anyway?”

Nayoung shrugs, also huffing. She grabs on to the railing and squints at the stairs they still have to trudge. Then, she sends Sejeong a pout.

“I’m tired.”

Sejeong glares down at her. She looks ahead at the city, beautiful and sparkly and quiet in the night. Then she looks back down at Nayoung, a few steps lower, also beautiful, sparkly from sweat, and not-at-all quiet as she tries to catch her breath.

She almost laughs adoringly as Nayoung plops down the cement with a defeated sigh. “I’m not going up there!” She yells, back against Sejeong as she also stares at the city lights.

Chuckling, Sejeong walks down the stairs and sits at the other end of the step Nayoung’s also sitting on, the widest steps where they can lie down if they want to. “Screw them. But, you know, if we didn’t bet each other on who could run faster around the oval, then we wouldn’t be so out of breath when Hana called us. By the way, I totally won that.”

“Hey, the only reason we agreed to this ‘retreat’-” Nayoung grumbles, using exaggerated air quotes, “-of hers is because she threatened to never talk to us again.”

Sejeong barks out a laugh. It’s absurd, the thought of Hana not talking to them ever again. They were a group, a team, and it’d be too weird if one left. She tilts her head and lets her gaze land and marvel on Nayoung’s smiling side profile. Too weird.

“Pfft,” she scoffs when Nayoung looked back at her. “Hana loves us, she wouldn’t leave us. Besides, it’s her life mission to straighten out our lives and Hana wouldn’t, y’know, want our lives to go to waste.”

“Yeah,” Nayoung breathes out, the sound tumbling down the stairs. “She’s way too nice for that.” She lies down on the asphalt, ground cold against her back.

Sejeong mimics her, mind screaming as she stares up at the sky. Graduation’s in a month and she’s dreading it. Her whole life ahead of her. She’ll be making her own dentist appointments, ordering her own pizza, and paying her own bills. It’s crazy and frightening.

Her friends are up there, lighting up a bonfire and singing merry campfire songs probably started by Hyeyeon to piss Mimi off. A gentle smile lifts her lips. She can imagine them up there: smiles painting their faces, marshmallows on sticks raised up high on a toast.

Her heart aches. Because that won’t stay after college. They only managed to stay all together because only Hana and Mimi left first, and it’s easy to keep them here. With them. But after her, Nayoung (who took a five year course), Sojin, and Xiening all graduate, Haebin – who changed her program several times and will graduate in two years, Mina, and Hyeyeon will be the only ones left.

And then just Mina and Hyeyeon with no seven adults trying to play angel and devil on them all the time.

“Remember when we first met?” She asks, voice loud enough for Nayoung to hear but soft enough for it to tickle the air.

Nayoung laughs. “Yeah, you only wanted to be my friend because I was a year older than you. You dragged me to that playground you play at and made me your sidekick. Instant rise of your street cred, having someone older and not in your grade as your sidekick.” She sighs. “Start of the dropping of mine, though.”

“Oh, don’t thank me. You did it all yourself,” Sejeong says, tone dripping with sugar. She blinks, the stars blurring. “No, but I mean, remember what you told me? When I asked you to be my partner in crime?”

“Of course. ‘You and me against the world, young apprentice’.”

“You still say that a lot now. The first sentence.”

“Because it’s always you and me against the world,” Nayoung tells her like there’s no questioning that. Then, with a smile in her voice, she adds: “Young apprentice.”

“But that’s still not what I meant.” The air is crisp and cool against her cheek, it’s peaceful. She can live forever with just this. “When I asked you to be my sidekick. What did you say?” She sits up and leans against the railing so she can see Nayoung’s face, who has already sat up and is facing her with a thoughtful look.

“’Anything for you’?”

She smiles. “Yes.”

“What about it?” Nayoung’s eyes are powerful even from afar. Too much energy, too much secrets.

Too much for her so she diverts her gaze to the sky above Nayoung’s head. “I’ll have to ask you something.”

There’s silence and Sejeong peeks, finds Nayoung smiling softly back at her like she finds something amusing. Nayoung shrugs. “Anything for you.”

Warmth. Warmth is the only thing she can use to describe Nayoung that wouldn’t be a lie or understatement. She’ll need that, that bright, homey warmth, with her for the rest of her life. “Promise me this-“ she wiggles a finger in the space between them, gesturing to her and herself – Nayoung and Sejeong. Sejeong and Nayoung. Like how it always should be. “-never changes?”

Nayoung’s soft smile turns into a full-fledged amused grin. “Never. You’re stuck with me forever.”

“Even when your soulmates in the picture?”

The grin softens into a sincere straight line. “Do you trust me?”

“More than anyone else in the world,” she replies easily. Automatically. It’s one of their other things. Like how, instead of the fond I love you’s, the best-friends-since-childhood-Hana-and-Mimi say ‘I hate you’ instead. This is their I love you.

“Then you and me against the world. As always.”

The wind brushes against Nayoung’s face and her hair blows backwards and she squints against the wind. Sejeong’s own hair flying forward, covering her view, but Nayoung’s scrunched up face peeks through every small space and she is just so beautiful. And Sejeong needs her for always and forever, even if that means she’d have to share.

So she asks, because she needs to know despite Nayoung’s clear avoidance of the topic: “Who’s your soulmate?”

Nayoung freezes, caught off guard. But the armor is on as soon as it cracked. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

“But you said anything for me,” Sejeong whines, eyes drooping into that sadness she knows always gets to Nayoung.

But Nayoung only smiles fondly. “I’ll tell you when I’m ready to tell you. And I’ll tell her right after I tell you.”

Because even with the soulmate, Sejeong’s still first. Nayoung didn’t say it, no. But Sejeong knows with the way she’s looking at her that that’s what she means. She sighs. “Fine,” she mutters, sliding back down to the ground so she can see the sky in full view. She sees Nayoung copying her from the corner of her eye.

“Nayoung?”

“Yes, Sejeong?”

“Sing for me?”

A sigh. A fond one. “Anything for you.”

And then a hum, like she’s trying to figure out what to sing. Like hitting play on a shuffled playlist and not knowing which song comes first. And then:

“You are the one girl~ wait, how does that go again? Uh…” she hums a bit, trying to get the tune right, and Sejeong smiles fondly at the sky, warmth taking over.

She decides to help her. “And you know that it’s true. I’m feeling younger, every time that I’m alone with you~”

“Oh, right, that’s it,” says a relieved Nayoung. She clears , the sound bouncing down the stairs. “We were sitting in a parked car, stealing kisses in the front yard-”

“We got questions we shouldn’t ask but-”

“How would you feel, if I told you I loved you?” they sing together, voices muffled by the gravity pushing them down, mixing together in the air in a way that’s not so musical but just so harmonious. “It’s just something I want to do. I’ll be taking my time, spending my life, falling deeper in love with you.”

She stops but Nayoung continues. “So, tell me that you love me- too.” The last word is whispered, said, muttered. Not at all sung; no tune at all. It’s like she ran out of breath and couldn’t sing it without her voice trembling so she chose to say it instead.

The warmth is set ablaze and Sejeong yearns to make the most of the time without Nayoung’s soulmate. “Hey, Nayoung.”

“Yes?”

Sejeong mutters, words incoherent even to her. So Nayoung sits up and drags her against the stairs.

“What?”

Again, she mutters. She’s not really sure she’s saying anything at all. She turns her head, finds Nayoung staring curiously with that confused smile on her lips, and smiles back as the taller moves closer, now halfway to her.

“Stop muttering, Sejeong, I can’t hear you,” she whines, but still smiling.

Sejeong looks at her in that way she does that means she’ll do anything but what Nayoung told her. She mutters again, gibberish only, really.

And Nayoung drags her nearer, eyebrows raised and eyes twinkling with amusement, brighter than any star hanging on the sky above her. “Someone didn’t learn anything from speech class.”

Soon enough, Nayoung’s sitting close enough for her hip to touch Sejeong head, so Sejeong does what she does automatically when they’re seated together: lays her head on Nayoung’s lap, grabs Nayoung’s hand and holds it hostage against her stomach, and grins smugly at her.

Nayoung smiles back just as happily. “What is it you were saying?”

“Nothing, really.” Nayoung’s eyebrows raise, questioning and still oh-so-amused. She shrugs, shoulder hitting Nayoung on the stomach and eliciting a huff from the other girl. “It was cold. And you were too far away.”

There it is, that shy smile on Nayoung’s lips every time Sejeong says stuff like this. “Wow, you’re one clingy girl, aren’t you?”

“Just when it comes to you,” she replies before she can even think. But she doesn’t take it back, because it’s true. “We’re us. You and I, against the world. We’re us, and we shouldn’t ever be that far away from each other.” She blinks, focuses on Nayoung’s serious eyes. And then adds, in a whisper, “Because we’re us.”

“Yeah,” Nayoung whispers back, eyes clouded. “We’re us. And as much I love that, my back’s going to hurt so let me lean against the railing and then you can use me as a pillow all you want,” she says, tapping Sejeong’s knuckles with one finger affectionately.

Sejeong complies begrudgingly. They put their bags against the railing and Nayoung uses it as a support for her lower back, using a neck pillow to avoid the inevitable cramps. Sejeong lays her head on the side of Nayoung’s stomach, top of head just below Nayoung’s chest, and her arm splayed over Nayoung’s thighs.

And, later, deeper into the night, Hana will ask Haebin and Mimi to go look for the two, and that is how they will find them. Mimi will take a picture, convince Haebin it’s for blackmailing purposes, but both of them will know that it’s for something more: a memory, maybe, or a reminder. They won’t be so sure yet.

Then they’ll wake them both up, drag them up the stairs and they will laugh at Hana scolding the two pink cheeked, sheepish looking girls, who’ll look at each other like they have a secret no one’s allowed to know, not even them two. Because it’s huge, it’s destructive. And it’s frightening, despite the certainty of fate.