PROLOGUE

It started small. Like a snowball she used to roll out at the front lane, when she was little and it was winter. It went almost unnoticeable at first, but at some point, it grew big – probably during Byulyi’s end of semester, or when they fell asleep, breathing in the same rhythm. When Byulyi realized it, it had been enormous. Too big for her arms to contain. But it was not the kind of big like a Japanese elementary kid’s backpack during his first day of school. That kind of big was adorable, containable, and if he fell down, his parents were behind him to back up. Byulyi’s kind of big was like the ocean. Or the sky. She knew if she were to fall down, or if it fell down upon her, she would not be able to survive.

But every time someone asked her how everything started, she wore a dismissal smile and answered, “it started small.”

1.1

INTENTION

“Wound me like a toy spinning too fast in every direction.

How could I stay when you lit a match to all my intentions?”

Lauv – The Story Never Ends

Byulyi was your general college student. Very smart, a goody-two-shoes, never late for any class. She was probably a little bit too geeky, but that didn’t make her peculiar. Except for the fact that she was previously studying in Connecticut, United States of America and moved to a small college in Jeonju, South Korea. Some people questioned her decision, trying to find a gap in which a brilliant Ivy League student born from an influential family could fill. Others questioned her sanity. Byulyi was aware it might look absurd, but she had learned more about absurdity than any of other people who questioned her.

“I just miss my hometown,” she would answer. And people didn’t need to know that she was born in Bucheon.

The first day of her transfer was a total shindy of a day, and in a quiet private college which population barely reached a thousand, it was rare. Words traveled fast and by the afternoon, when Byulyi was walking toward the cafeteria for lunch, she could feel everyone’s eyes on her. “The Ivy League transfer” was how she would be known of. Not that she despised it, but she thought her name was a lot finer.

But then the talk of the town was quick to die down, like fire lit in wooden matches. In four days, the kids found Byulyi too ordinary. Just a real smart nerd who transferred from an Ivy League university and joined them in a boring little college. Just because. She quickly gained back her title as just “Moon Byulyi.”

“The curry’s a lot better than yesterday,” Byulyi commented, scooping up another spoonful or curry rice to and chewed. She was in the only cafeteria in the university, having a quick brunch break with Yongsun. Yongsun was the cheery friend, the friend that would go up to you first and ask if you would have a lunch together with her. Byulyi found Yongsun’s presence nothing but helpful, always being the shy and quiet one in a new environment. It was barely a month, and they had been technically inseparable already.

“Mhm. It tastes a lot more like curry.” Yongsun replied and Byulyi agreed. Byulyi was about to make another comment about the iced lemon tea, but her words got caught up in her tongue. Yongsun mentioned something about yesterday’s curry, probably about how it tasted like a dog food. Byulyi didn’t quite catch that. Her attention was totally somewhere else. Specifically, the cafeteria entrance.

And Moon Byulyi wasn’t someone who was easily distracted. Yongsun had always been a little slow, and it took her nearly three minutes before she realized Byulyi was ignoring her. So, she diverted her attention to the object Byulyi was focusing into and scoffed.

“The art major girls.”

And not that majoring in art was a bad thing. Yongsun, for instance, appreciated arts a lot. There was just this group of three girls in the art department, and people would say they were the “devils on your shoulder”. Rumors had it all. That these girls were nothing but the epitome of bad and madness. Despite being only one month in, she had heard all of the rumors. It was nearly impossible, really, being a part of such small community and not knowing everything. She knew that Jinhee, a senior of the law department dropped out because she was pregnant – and she for once had never seen how this Jinhee girl looked like. She also knew that Jung Wheein, one of the art major girls, had murdered someone.

And there in the entrance, the group made their way in. Byulyi could see some students snickered at them. One of the girls in short fiery red hair whispered something to Wheein and a moment later, Wheein caught Byulyi’s daring gaze on her, as she stared back.

For what felt like forever, Wheein made her way toward Byulyi’s table, in which Yongsun only responded with wide confused eyes.

“You’re staring at me,” Wheein immediately said the moment she was in front of Byulyi. Her tone was not accusing, was not offended. She just said it as-a-matter-of-fact-ly.

“I am,” Byulyi said in the same tone.

Wheein raised her eyebrows. But she didn’t ask why, like what Byulyi had initially expected. Instead, she looked at Byulyi from head to toe, scanning every of her detail that her visual allowed.

“Who are you?”

“Moon Byulyi,” Byulyi answered. She thought if she should mention her department and her year, but Wheein had cut her with a grumble.

“No, no.” She shook her head. She looked at Byulyi again, lips pouting and eyebrows furrowed into a slight frown.

“Alright, if you can’t tell me now.” She continued. “I’ll figure out by myself.”

Wheein was about to turn around and walk away but she faced Byulyi once again, her face was serious. Too serious it was adorable, at least for Byulyi.

“I like you!” She announced before turning around and walked away, her other two friends followed suit, leaving Byulyi and Yongsun stunned on their seats. Some other students in the room had their eyes on them before diverting back their attention to their food. Apparently it was not the first time the infamous art major girls made a scene in the cafeteria. Or anywhere in the campus, if that mattered.

“What the hell was that?!” Yongsun freaked out, shaking Byulyi’s arm for an explanation. “What’s with you and Jung Wheein?!”

Byulyi was surprisingly calm as she tried to bite down a smile.

“Well, she likes me.”

Byulyi gazed at where Wheein was sitting down, at the far corner of the cafeteria, ignoring Yongsun’s whines.

She didn’t remember.

1.2

BOUND

“We are bound to each other’s hearts.

Cold, torn, and pulled apart.”

Seafret – Wildfire

“What was that?” Hyejin asked, focusing her gaze on her toe nails which she was polishing. She and Wheein were crashing at Hyejin’s place, going for their usual Thursday night chill-out. Namjoo was out with her boyfriend, leaving the group only as a duo. Wheein was lying down flat on her stomach on Hyejin’s bed, a comic book in hand.

“What was what?”

“The girl in the cafeteria,” Hyejin added, cursing internally at her bright red polish that went slightly out of the line.

“The Ivy League transfer.”

Wheein let out a hum, flipping her position so that she was lying on her back as she stared at the ceiling. She noticed a crack there and she chuckled at how it almost reminded her of herself.

“She’s cute.”

Hyejin wiped out an overly-applied polish that dripped to her toe. “You’re planning to hit on her?”

Wheein brought her focus back to the comic. She had ever read it but there was no harm in re-reading. More details to catch, in her defense. “Hmm…”

She was planning a lot more than that, but Hyejin didn’t need to know.

“Yes, yes. Perhaps that.”

And a lot of some other things.

The next day, Yongsun freaked out even more than the previous day, when she spent the entire evening class spilling rumors about Wheein. Most of it were bad, some of it were bizarre. “Some even said she was a North Korean spy who escaped from the regime,” she whispered to Byulyi, in which Byulyi responded with a raise of eyebrows.

But today, Yongsun and Byulyi sat together for their calculus class, and their eyes were on Wheein, who entered the class with Hyejin and Namjoo.

“Is this seat empty?” Wheein asked, and Byulyi almost thought she asked her, and she almost answered ‘Of course not, do you not see this girl with chubby cheeks right beside me?’ before she realized Wheein was talking to the guy sitting behind her.

“Huh? Yeah…” The guy answered in doubt.

“Great,” Wheein beamed and placed her bag on the seat. The guy – Byulyi noticed it to be a junior from the business department – looked wide-eyed at her. Either because of the fact that the art major girls actually attended classes, or the fact that the notorious Jung Wheein, who was gossiped to have killed someone, chose to sit beside him.

Namjoo and Hyejin sat across Wheein and the moment the professor came – in which he was also as surprised as anybody else to see the trio attended his class – they went out, never to come back until the period ended. But Wheein stayed.

“What’s your name again?” Wheein poked Byulyi on the back with her pen, not even bothering to whisper or lower her volume. The professor, who was explaining a complicated formula glanced sharply at her, completely annoyed.

“Moon Byulyi,” Byulyi answered in a whisper, when the lecturer turned away to write the formula on the board.

Wheein hummed in response. “And you’re transferring from?”

“Yale.”

“Why?”

Byulyi didn’t answer. She gazed down at her nails.

“I just want to, I guess?”

Wheein chuckled at her reply. All her life, she had met people who moved to a bigger city to chase their dreams, passionately giving a long speech of how it mattered a lot for them when they were asked why. She also had met people who divorced, dealt drugs, got married, preferred tea with milk instead of sugar. And when asked why, they would explain themselves. Like searching for a remedy, or a justification of their actions. Like explaining would make them a little more right.

But the girl sitting in front of her, who was diligently taking notes on the formula, was someone who moved from a top global university to an unknown private college in her boring little town. And she did it just because she wanted to.

There were a lot in Moon Byulyi that Wheein itched to discover.

“Why were you staring at me that day in the cafeteria?”

Byulyi shrugged. “Other people do that too. Why don’t you question them?”

Wheein giggled in response.

“They do it discreetly. They always look away when I look back.”

“But you,” she continued, tracing her capped pen on Byulyi’s spine, “didn’t. You didn’t look away. Actually, you look right back at me in the eyes.”

Byulyi didn’t answer. She wanted to spill everything to Wheein. Not now, she thought. Not now.

“That’s brave.” Wheein cooed.

“And I like brave.”

“You like me,” Byulyi stated. Simply, as-a-matter-of-fact-ly. Without no hint of astonishment or rejection or pride. Just the way it was, and it almost struck Wheein how honest it was.

“I do.” Wheein calmly replied.

This time, Byulyi turned around, facing Wheein and met her in the eyes.

“Well, I like you too.”

During that split second, Wheein swore she saw a flash of something. Something familiar, something she failed to fathom. Something she should remember, but she didn’t. It was just for a split of second, but Byulyi and Wheein gazed at each other, ignoring the frown in Yongsun’s face, or the wide eyes of the junior beside Wheein.

It was just a split of second, but Byulyi remembered.