It was too optimistic for her to wish Sojung wouldn’t notice anything. Sojung is too good of a leader, too good of a friend for that. (And that’s all she would ever be for Yerin, isn’t it?)

“Are you okay? You’ve been kind of off lately.”

Sojung’s voice is casual enough, albeit concerned, that Yerin doubts she has any clue as to why Yerin has been ‘off,’ but Yerin can’t help the way her shoulders stiffen.

“Yeah.” Her voice comes out slightly too high, and she curses her body for giving her away. She clears and tries again. “I guess I haven’t been feeling very well.”

Sojung’s brow creases. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

In a manner of speaking, Yerin thinks, but she just presses her lips together and shakes her head. She’s terrified that she’ll have another cough episode, but thankfully her lungs seem to be holding together for the moment. Sojung’s presence has simultaneously strengthened and weakened them, like her effect on the rest of Yerin.

Sojung reaches out and touches Yerin’s forehead, her touch both cool and burning, and Yerin holds herself stock-still, gripped by both fear and comfort. Around Sojung, everything is a battle of extremes, always at the end of the spectrum and never in the moderate centre.

“You seem a little warm,” Sojung notes, “but not exactly feverish. Maybe you should take some of that cold medicine we have as a preventative. Does it make you sleepy?”

Yerin manages a smile. “No, I think that’s just you, unnie.”

“You sound like Sinbi,” Sojung grumbles. “It’s just because you’re old, unnie,” she says in a terrible imitation of Sinbi’s voice.

“Well, it is.” Sinbi pops up like she had been summoned. “What are we talking about?”

Sojung gives her an incredulous look. “You don’t know what we’re talking about but you answered anyway?”

Sinbi shrugs. “I heard ‘you’ and ‘old.’ That’s all I need to know to agree.”

“You have absolutely no respect,” Sojung says, but her voice isn’t irritated or offended. It’s almost—fond.

Sinbi grins, unabashed. “Isn’t that why you like me?”

Sojung isn’t smiling, exactly, but her eyes are. “Who said I like you?”

“It’s not good to live in denial, unnie,” Sinbi says sagely, and then loops an arm through Yerin’s. “Come on, I need to talk to you about something.”

Yerin blinks. “Me?”

“Yeah.” Sinbi turns her eyes to Sojung. “Unnie, I hope you’re okay with me stealing Yerin unnie from you.”

“As long as you give her back,” Sojung says lightly, and Yerin’s heart skips a beat.

Sojung touches her forehead again, and Yerin has to fight not to tense up or, even worse, cough out a petal. “You’re a bit cooler,” she says, sounding pleased. “Take some medicine if you feel worse, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And talk to me if anything happens.”

It’s not really a request, although it’s said gently enough, and Yerin nods.

“Okay.”

Sojung looks at her for a moment longer, eyes dark and steady, and Yerin can almost feel a flower bloom in her lungs. Then, with a smile, Sojung walks out of the room, leaving Yerin and Sinbi alone together.

As soon as Sojung’s fully and truly out of sight, Yerin claps a hand to and bursts into a coughing fit. Rose petals spill everywhere, and she’s too busy clutching at her chest in pain to even try gathering them up.

Once it’s finally over, Sinbi rubs her back in slow, soothing circles. “Unnie,” she starts.

“No,” Yerin says, already anticipating what she’s about to say.

“You can’t hide this forever,” Sinbi says, frustrated. “What if I didn’t come into the room? What if you started coughing these”—she reaches out blindly and grabs a handful of petals—“up in front of her?”

“It doesn’t matter because that didn’t happen,” Yerin says in a voice so calm she surprises herself.

Sinbi looks like she wants to throw the petals into Yerin’s face. “It didn’t this time. It could happen any second now. It will. You’re just delaying the inevitable.”

“Sinbi, I can’t get the operation,” Yerin says quietly. “I can’t.”

“You won’t,” Sinbi corrects, and Yerin can do nothing but look at her, beseeching. Sinbi sighs and averts her eyes. “Haven’t you thought about what this will do to your health? You know that if left untreated—”

“—the victim’s lungs will fill with flowers and they’ll choke on their own blood and petals and die.” The words leave in an utterly detached tone, like she’s reciting some boring statistic out of a textbook rather than talking about something happening in her own life. “I know.”

Sinbi stares at her incredulously. “You know, and you’re okay with it? You’re just going to let it happen? It’s a fatal disease, Yerin!”

Yerin ignores the lack of honorific. “It’s not so bad yet. Who knows, maybe I’ll get over her any day now.”

“You’re not going to get over her,” Sinbi says in a deadly quiet voice. “You are so in love with her I feel like an intruder just being in the same room as you two.”

There’s an odd note in her voice, like it sickens her. She no doubt feels sorry for Yerin, probably finds her pathetic on top of stupid and stubborn. Yerin knows she’s all those things, but still. She won’t get that operation. Maybe if she’s fighting for breath with her lungs full of flowers, but not now. Even if merely looking at Sojung makes her fear that she’ll cough up petals, she’ll take that over feeling nothing at all.

“Hey, don’t look so down,” Yerin says, nudging her. “You’re making me feel like I’m on my deathbed already.”

“At this rate, it won’t be long,” Sinbi says darkly.

“I trust you to take me to the hospital then.” Yerin smiles. “You’ll bring me there, right? You’ve been lifting weights, I’m sure you could carry me.”

Sinbi flexes her bicep experimentally. “I don’t know about that, but I’ll get you there one way or another.”

“There we go then,” Yerin says. “There’s nothing to worry about, so stop frowning. Your face could get stuck that way, and as much as Buddies love iljin Sinbi they need soft Eunbi too.”

“Nothing to worry about?” Sinbi repeats in disbelief. “You could die, and you think there’s nothing to worry about?”

“We just talked about this. If I’m dying, I trust you to get me to the hospital in time.” Yerin’s voice is light, but her words are laced with sincerity. “I trust you.”

Sinbi’s face is still set in an expression of disbelief, but slowly, some of the tension seeps out of her face. “You’d better not die,” she says abruptly. “If you get a lot worse than this, I don’t care what I promised, I’m telling Sojung unnie and the managers.”

“Eunbi—”

“I won’t let you die,” Sinbi says, her voice steely, and she says it like a promise, like she would personally march to the gates of either heaven or hell and drag Yerin back into the living world. Knowing Sinbi, she can and will do it through sheer force of will.

Yerin smiles again. “I’m not going to,” she says soothingly. “Really, stop frowning, okay?”

Sinbi scrunches up her face, like when she was trying to learn how to wink, and finally the frown leaves it.

Yerin grins and squeezes her cheeks. “That’s better!”

“Unnie,” Sinbi says, muffled. “Let go of my face.”

“In a second,” Yerin says, and Sinbi sighs in a longsuffering way but relents.

Yerin doesn’t realize it then, but a thought starts to bloom in her like a different kind of flower, not a poisonous one that would clog up her lungs until she can’t breathe, but one that’s like a burst of fresh air in and out of itself.

I would die for Sojung unnie, but I would live for you.

A/N: I honestly have no idea where I'm going with this lmao.