Chapter 11

The Love We Find at the End of Time

Byulyi stood frozen in front of a beige door, her heart pounding a mile a minute. She cast a nervous glance at the brushed-silver name plate beside the door, “Kim Yongsun” printed on a slip of paper held up by a piece of tape on the plaque. The temporary makeshift name plate seemed hauntingly out of place in the pristine, sterile hallway—a shiver ran down her spine for more reasons than one. She could already smell the familiar fragrance, sweet and floral, from through the thin hospital walls, and her palms began to sweat.

“Um, Byulyi-unnie, are you okay?” came Wheein’s voice behind her.

“You know she’s watching us, right?” Hyejin added. Just to demonstrate her point, she stepped up to the window beside the door and gave Yongsun a big smile and a wave. When Yongsun waved back with a tired smile, she added, “She’s so pretty even in a hospital gown.”

“Hyejin-ah,” Wheein said, slapping her impatiently. “Yongsun-unnie is probably very upset. I really need you to be on your best behaviour, okay?

Hyejin crossed her arms and quirked a brow. “I know you’re jealous and it’s super adorable, but you’re also right so I will be good.” She looped her arm around Wheein’s. “You can reward me later.”

Wheein’s face flushed crimson. “Aish, let’s go.”

Before Byulyi could confidently say she was ready, the two younger girls pushed past her and into Yongsun’s private room. She followed the trail of excited voices inside, her heart skipping a beat when Yongsun locked eyes with her. opened—or perhaps she thought it was open—but when no words came out, she stuck her hand up in a stiff half wave that she hoped nobody saw.

Fortunately, the hushed concern of her friends quickly took over the room. “Unnie, are you okay?” Hyejin asked. Despite her playful attitude just a few moments ago, her fingers on Wheein’s arm visibly tightened. Like clockwork, Wheein covered her hand with her own.

Yongsun nodded. “I’m fine,” she said with a smile. “Joohyun saved me. I’m sorry for making you worry.” Her eyes caught Byulyi’s again, and, out of habit, Byulyi looked away, suddenly finding her shoes far more interesting.

“Don’t be stupid,” Hyejin said. “You’re the one sitting in a hospital. How can you apologize?”

“Hyejin!” Wheein nudged. “You promised.”

Hyejin’s tails curled. “Sorry.”

Yongsun’s warm smile did not falter. “It’s okay. You’re right—I should be saying thank you.”

Hyejin brightened once more. “You’re welcome! We’re happy to see that you’re okay. Right, Byulyi-unnie?”

All eyes were on Byulyi, who felt her whole body suddenly flare up in embarrassment. “R-right,” she said, slinking toward the back wall.

Wheein rolled her eyes, punched Hyejin in the shoulder, and cleared , mercifully taking the spotlight from Byulyi. “How long are you staying here?” Wheein asked Yongsun.

“Just tonight. I think I’m fine? I just have a few cuts and scrapes, but the doctors wanted to keep me here to make sure everything is alright, I guess. Joohyun was pretty insistent since I passed out a few times.”

“Wait, I saw Joohyun-unnie in the waiting room earlier. Seulgi told us not to approach—why didn’t she get a room?”

“Wheein-ah,” Yongsun chuckled. “Have you met Joohyun? She can be pretty stubborn. They gave her a room, but she refused it. I was only half awake at that time, but it looked like she was going to rip the doctor in half when he said she couldn’t wait outside the operating theatre for Seungwan.” The lightness in her voice faded at the mention of Seungwan. “I hope she’ll be okay. Or Joohyun will never forgive herself...even though it’s my fault.”

Hyejin released herself from Wheein’s side and gently sat on the edge of Yongsun’s bed. “I’m sure you didn’t mean for it to happen, unnie,” she said, resting her hand on her knee. “Please don’t blame yourself. Seulgi is with Joohyun now, so she’ll be alright.”

There were so many things on Yongsun’s mind—even from across the room, Byulyi could read the suppressed emotions on her thin lips, and the worry on her brows. Their eyes met for a third time, and Byulyi, heart-heavy as she was to see her in such a state, mustered up a smile.

Unbeknownst to the two, Wheein noticed this, and quietly smiled to herself. “Hey unnie?” she said, turning to Yongsun. “Hyejin and I are going to buy you some food, okay?”

Wait, Byulyi started to say—it came out in a panicked squeak as Wheein pulled a confused, reluctant, and loud Hyejin off the bed, roughly ushering her out the door with a series of excuses. It happened so quickly—she wasn’t ready. The blood drained from Byulyi’s face when she suddenly found herself alone in a room with the woman of her dreams.

Neither said a word as their anxious eyes roamed the room for something to look at. All Byulyi could think about suddenly was that overwhelming fragrance she could not control; all Yongsun could think about was Byulyi and Joohyun—they pushed their thoughts down to the pit of their stomachs, and dredged up enough courtesy for a moment’s eye contact.

“H-how are you feeling?” Byulyi asked. She shuffled a little closer, her hands getting clammy again in their own fists.

“Tired,” Yongsun replied with an uneasy smile. “It’s been a long day. Do you want to sit?”

Byulyi’s eyes snapped up, then darted to the floor again for fear of what she might reveal. Yongsun gestured to the space Hyejin was occupying only a moment before, her smile so sweet that Byulyi almost felt dirty.

“I don’t know if I—”

“Sit, Byulyissi.” Her voice was firm, yet warm, and Byulyi found herself moving before her mind could continue resisting. As gently as possible, she lowered herself to the very edge of the bed, arms and legs pulled together, taking as little space as she could. Yongsun watched on and tilted her head. “Are you...afraid of me?”

Her eyes widened—Byulyi shook her head vigorously. “No, no, no—o-of course not!” She took a deep breath and slid her gaze to meet Yongsun’s. “I’m...afraid of myself,” she whispered. “There are lots of things that I don’t understand. Lots of things that I thought I understood, but whenever I see you I just…” She trailed off, her thoughts suddenly far away when she found that she had been leaning her body closer and closer as she spoke. Yongsun stiffened visibly, but her gaze was unwavering. Byulyi touched her shoulder—Yongsun’s breath hitched—and softly, so softly, kissed her. It lasted no more than a moment, just enough time to close her eyes, but the pull to stay was overwhelming.

It took every effort to flip her senses back to rationality, back to a place to anchor her reality. She opened her eyes and tugged her body back—as far back from Yongsun’s radiating warmth as she could. Swirling depths of restrained emotion flashed her eyes—Yongsun reached for her hand, and held her palm in her own. “I’m sorry,” Byulyi said, shame curling in the pit of her stomach. “I-I didn’t mean to do that. It’s...I don’t know.”

Yongsun quirked a smile. “It’s okay. It’s the curse. Joohyun told you, right?”

“Yes.” Byulyi wrapped her hand around Yongsun’s. “I don’t know much about the supernatural world, so I can’t say if the curse is real or not, but I do know that I….really like you.” She paused the moment with a smile and a distant, downward gaze, as if her mind had drifted off to a different world. “Like...really like you. I may have even...used a word...stronger than that. A word Joohyun-unnie didn’t like much.” She bit her lip—Yongsun looked away. “A-anyway, I...I don’t know what she told you, but i-if you want me to break it, I-I’ll do it. I wasn’t lying about that. I just...I just needed to hear it from you. That you want me to do it.”

“Do you want to?” Yongsun asked tentatively.

Much to Yongsun’s surprise, she did not hesitate: “No.”

“How can you be sure? This could all be an illusion. You could wake up just like that,” she said with a snap, “and remember nothing.”

“I guess I haven’t lived long enough to worry about everything,” Byulyi replied with a sheepish smile. “The curse—it makes sense, I guess, but I don’t care. My feelings for you are very real to me, and I treasure them—I will treasure them even if you want me to break the curse. I think...if I break the curse, my heart will ache anyway...so it doesn’t change my feelings for you. I-I know that right now, curse or no curse, in this moment, I have never loved anything as much as I love you. And that’s real enough for me.”

“Byulyissi…” Yongsun slipped her hand out of Byulyi’s and buried her face in it—Byulyi stiffened, her heart in her ears, ready to embrace whatever came next. “I...don’t know what to do. I feel the same way and it’s so intense, I...I don’t understand it. It scares me.”

“Y-you do?”

“Yes,” Yongsun said with a sad smile. “From the beginning, I’ve known it like I know that one plus one equals two, and yet...it’s the reasons why this equation works that bother me. I want to fall in love with you head first—half of me is already in the water, and yet...it just scares me more than anything that I could fall in and drown. You can say what you like, but if this is just a simple curse, the gentlest flap of a butterfly’s wing can turn this into a tsunami. I don’t know, Byulyi...I know I’m rambling, but I just don’t know, and I’m so scared.”

Byulyis looked up at the ceiling. She wanted so badly to reach out and hold Yongsun’s trembling body. Instead, she tried to memorize the exact shade of white above them. “What should we do now?” she asked softly. Filled with haphazardly labelled feelings and nowhere to put them—how did we get here? She thought miserably, and where can we possibly go?

“I don’t know,” she replied, running a hand through her hair several times over. She slumped over and held her face in her hands. Three more times, she repeated her reply, sounding more desperate each time.

“D-do you want to break the curse?” Byulyi asked.

“I don’t know.” Yongsun whimpered, sniffling a little, “I’ve never been so unsure of anything. Joohyun...she doesn’t believe there’s a curse. And I...I didn’t want to believe there wasn’t a curse. If the curse doesn’t exist, then I’d have to admit to these powerful and irrational feelings and that this really is love and I just...don’t know what to do about them. If it’s just plain, old, simple love...what if it all falls apart? What if I...can’t be the girl you fell in love with forever? I mean, I don’t even know who that person is... What if you leave? I don’t know, Byulyissi. You’re so...honest and brave, and I’m...I’m scared all the time. I can’t even properly transform because I’ve been paranoid and afraid my whole life. I’m not—”

“Unnie, stop, please,” Byulyi pleaded. She gently pried her hands from her face. “Don’t be scared. I might not be good for much, but I won’t leave you. I can’t promise that I won’t ever disappoint you, but I want to try. C-can’t we try? Please?”

Yongsun was silent for a while. Byulyi let go of her hands and sat back, giving her space to think—enough space to prepare her own broken heart if things go wrong. The seconds ticked by—she tried not to think about the overwhelming scent.

Finally, Yongsun leaned back, exhaling softly through her nose. “I want to...but...do you know why I was so desperate to find Joohyun today?” Byulyi shook her head, the pained smile on Yongsun’s face secretly pressing down on her chest. “I kept imagining all the things she could’ve done to you in the library. I was convinced somehow that she sang to you to make you forget about me, and the image I had of you and Joohyun together...I felt like I was going crazy—I hated it so much. And...and these thoughts...that’s why we ended up here. It’s all my fault, Byul. I’m...I’m crazy. You just haven’t seen it yet. Well, maybe you’re seeing it now. I don’t—”

Before she could allow her to continue down the spiral, Byulyi slid forward and wrapped both arms tightly around her, suddenly so dizzy with her scent she had to squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s not your fault,” she whispered. “And you’re not crazy. It’s a little uncomfortable to picture myself with Joohyun-unnie,” she chuckled, “but I’m happy to hear that you were worried about me.”

Yongsun shook her head and sunk deeper into the the crook of Byulyi’s neck. “It’ll wear you down, Byul.”

“I trust you,” Byulyi whispered into her shoulder. Her scent filled her nose, stronger than ever, suddenly filling her with the urge to bite down on her skin. Yongsun was so warm and so vulnerable—she wanted to stay this way forever—her self-control, however, was unravelling before her eyes.

With shaking hands, she pushed Yongsun back, perhaps an ounce harder than she intended when Yongsun hit the headboard with a yelp. “S-sorry,” she mumbled, shooting from her seat. Half of her wanted to dive in and pick her up in her arms, while the other half wanted to flee the room—trapped, she stood with her arms out in front of her, struck mute by her own indecision.

“It’s okay,” Yongsun said, rubbing the back of her head. “I’m okay. Is something wrong?”

Byulyi relaxed her arms to her side. “Thank goodness.” But when Yongsun continued watching and waiting, her words knotted up inside , and she found herself apologizing again for being so clumsy.

Yongsun chewed her bottom lip—Byulyi stared at her shoes in shame. “You trust me, right?” She said with a small smile. Byulyi raised her eyes and nodded. “I trust you too. Somehow, scared as I am about...all of this...I want to you to feel like you can tell me anything. Like maybe we can share our honest feelings? S-sorry, is that asking too much, too soon?”

Byulyi shook her head and gathered her courage into her fists at her side. “It’s your scent.”

“My...scent?”

Byulyi nodded. “I can’t describe it, but it...it’s...even after I learned to control my senses, it’s very strong, and it draws me in and it makes me...a little...crazy—I know this sounds like a part of the curse, but trust me, unnie, I’m...I’m trying”—she swallowed—“to control it.”

Yongsun bowed her head and sniffed her own shoulder. “My scent?” she murmured to herself. Something about this sounded very familiar. Her memories peeled back the layers and tried to frantically search for the answer. Even if she did not have her massive tomes in her hands, she had read enough books to hope whatever she was looking for would reveal itself.

Absentmindedly, she tapped on her temple, an apology too muffled for Byulyi to comprehend.

Meanwhile, Byulyi watched her, anxious for a reaction. She wasn’t sure what had happened when Yongsun’s eyes suddenly glazed over, as if entering an alternate plane of existence. It was only a few moments, but despite the adorable, changing expressions, her discomfort was excruciating—did she say something wrong? Was she disgusted? Did she need more space?

Finally, Yongsun lit up and mercy came. “I got it! It’s jasmine.”

“What?”

Yongsun slowly laid her head back on her headboard once more, the slow realization settling like a weight on her chest. “This whole time...” she said with a resigned smile, “it’s not a curse. It’s...science.”

“Unnie, I swear, I—”

But Yongsun’s eyes were closed, and a theory was taking over her consciousness as it fit its individual pieces into place. “I don’t have my books, so I can’t verify this at the moment, but there has been a number of experiments conducted on the effect of scent on zoomorphic species of supernatural creatures.” Byulyi inched back a little—though Yongsun was addressing her, it was as if she was talking to thin air, like she was trying to work out a secret problem as she spoke. “It’s like cats and catnip. It’s been theorized that some species have a chemical reaction to certain scents the same way a regular house cat might be drawn to catnip, but known scents have been considered so rare that it has been almost impossible to catalogue.”

Byulyi’s heart began beating a little faster. “What are you saying?” Byulyi shook her head—she knew what she was saying; it was a matter of belief.

“This scent...it’s my perfume. It’s made from the blossoms of a very rare variant of jasmine found only on the peaks of the Fagaras Mountains. My family has cultivated this flower for a thousand years—it’s...a subtle scent, but perhaps unlike anything else. We wear it like a family crest. Maybe...maybe, Byulyi...that’s the answer.” When Yongsun opened her eyes again, her smile was tinged with both relief and sadness.

Byulyi’s heart ached at the accusation embedded in that smile. “Science...or folklore—it doesn’t matter which one, does it?” She said slowly. “If you believe strongly in something, no one can take that away from you.” Yongsun tilted her head, her fragile smile deflating into a thin line. “Yes, there is something about this scent that’s almost...animal, but I also understand now that you will never rest until you’re satisfied with the answer you find.” She looked down at her feet, her fists tight at her side. “And maybe...maybe you will never be satisfied. Maybe you’ll keep finding things to tell yourself because you’re convinced that what we have isn’t real. S-so maybe...you don’t want this to be real.”

“Byul, I—”

“It’s okay, unnie, I understand.”

With that, Byulyi bowed and bolted out of the room, her hands pressed to her eyes so no one—despite the bewildered faces of those she passed by—could see the way her heart was dissolving into salt water. She couldn’t breathe. She needed to get out.

Not knowing where she was going, she blindly stumbled through the halls, murmuring her apologies to anything she touched, until—finally—she felt the sun on her face again. She lowered her hand from her eyes, and looked up into the blinding sun and took a deep breath.

She pictured the field, a single pegasus flying about her, and her erratic heartbeat slowed. What the hell was she doing—running away at the first chance? After everything she said about trust, how could she turn her back on Yongsun now? The pain—the pain of rejection was so real, and yet...what if it was only an illusion?

She stood, arms wrapped around herself as the sun set behind the treeline.

It didn’t matter if the ache was an illusion, did it? It hurt, but it didn’t have to. Yongsun could be hurting too—no, she wasn’t going to give up. Not until she received a clear and resounding rejection.

 A nurse nearby asked if she was alright, and she smiled. “Yes,” she said, “I’m going to be fine.”

Meanwhile, Wheein and Hyejin were finishing off their cups of coffee without a care in the world. “Hyejin-ah, you didn’t congratulate me yet,” Wheein said happily.

Hyejin lowered her mug and raised a brow. “For what?”

“I finally got Byulyi-unnie and Yongsun-unnie together.”

Hyejin chuckled. “My love, you got them alone in a room together. Do you think they’ll confess and kiss and start making babies just like that?”

Wheein stirred her coffee nonchalantly. “Firstly, yes because I believe in them.” It was her turn to raise a brow now. “You do know how babies are made, right?”

Hyejin grinned. “If I say no, will you show me?”

“Hyejin!” Wheein screeched, blushing fiercely when several people looked over at their table. “D-don’t say stuff like that in public!”

“Anyway,” Hyejin went on coolly with a wave of her hand, “I don’t think those two idiots will make it easy on themselves. I see Yongsun-unnie once in a while and I help her carry her books, so think I know her a little better than you. She bought me coffee once too, and we had a really nice, long chat.”

Wheein’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell me this.”

But Hyejin went on: “She might be super pretty and cool and smart as hell, but I don’t think she’s much better than Byulyi-unnie.”

“Okay, putting this Yongsun stuff aside for now...what do you mean by that?”

Hyejin shrugged. “They’re both idiots. They live in their heads and they mess everything up on their own. Yongsun-unnie...it’s like she’s afraid of anything she hasn’t read in a book before. I mean, I thought I was bad back then, but her—you remember the lollipops, right?”

“How can I forget? It was the most flattering and the most insane gesture in the history of the universe,” Wheein snickered. “You were so cute back then.”

“Excuse me, I’m still cute—not as cute as you though. But I’m telling you, unnie is way worse than I ever was. You didn’t know me in elementary school, but I’d go on month-long research expeditions in the library for whatever topic I was interested in at the time. Like, I built a miniature replica of the White House out of chocolate wafers because I was into American history and because I was nine and had no friends.”

Wheein laughed. “I feel like all those years of being secretly in love with you and wondering where you went really paid off—you’re a way bigger weirdo than I could’ve imagined. Nine-year-old Wheein would’ve been smitten.”

“I think if nine-year-old Hyejin had nine-year-old Wheein in her life— American history! I’d be researching a whole new world, if you know what I mean.”

“Don’t be gross, Hyejinie. But also—I love that thought. Would you build a little wafer stature of me?”

“Every day.”

Wheein beamed, brightly at first, then—”That would be the sweetest thing ever if we hadn’t been talking about your secret dates with Yongsun-unnie just a few minutes ago.”

Hyejin stuck out her bottom lip. “Fine, as I was saying… Yongsun-unnie is way worse than spending every moment of every day building models out of food. From what I’ve seen, she’d probably read as much as she can about the White House and just leave it at that. She probably wouldn’t want to see it in real life, and she probably wouldn’t make something as useless and impractical as a wafer statue. Remember when Mr. Foxley’s son sent me those marshmallows?”

Wheein quirked a brow. “The little fox-shaped ones? I thought you said you ate them all. And why are you changing the subject?”

“Well, I may have saved some...for Yongsun-unnie,” Hyejin said with a sheepish smile.

Wheein crossed her arms. “We need to have a good, long talk about your crush on Yongsun.”

Hyejin leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Anyway, she didn’t eat them in the end. She’d never seen a bright orange marshmallow before so she was very nervous about it. I told her they were marshmallows and she had so many questions. Like what kind of oil was used, and what kind of sugar, and what type of metal the mold was made from. Who would know these things?”

Wheein looked thoughtful as she listened, nodding once in awhile as she turned the information over. What she really needed to know and felt very inclined to ask, however, was: “Did you eat all the marshmallows after that?”

Hyejin deflated a little. “Yes.”

“It’s okay,” Wheein said with a sweet smile. “You’ll get me more, right?”

“Aish,” Hyejin shook her head with a smile, “what happened to the sweet Wheein who made me share all of my lollipops?”

“I love sharing—just not with your crush.”

“I love you, Wheein.” Hyejin smiles sweetly.

Wheein stuck her tongue out. “Okay, but there is something I don’t understand. Assuming what you said is true, how can someone so careful also be so sociable? I’d definitely have agoraphobia if I had to think about what type of metal touched my candy.”

Hyejin rapped her chin with the end of her spoon. “Well, she comes from a rich family, right? She’s probably used to social bull. My mom took me around to charity balls and fundraisers a few times and it’s awful. From what I know, she most likely had to suffer the same pretences, if not even more. Us gumiho are reclusive. Vampires? Showy bastards. So I’m not surprised she’s so good at pretending to be perfect.”

Wheein winced. “When you put it that way...it makes more sense.”

“You should spend time with her too,” Hyejin grinned. “You’ll like her a lot. Oh, but I might get jealous...and I don’t want you to get mad at me, so maybe not.”

“I still think we need to talk about—Oh, wait! Hyejin!” She suddenly rose and slammed her hands on the table. “We forgot to buy food for Yongsun-unnie!”

“Oh my god. How did you—”

“Don’t blame me,” Wheein huffed. “You were the one getting grumpy because you were hungry and they didn’t have French fries here.”

“Let’s go check on her and see what she wants to eat.”

Wheein made a face. “What if she and Byulyi-unnie are…”

“You think too highly of them. If they are, I’ll buy you dinner for a week.”

“Aigo, so confident.” Wheein grinned. “Deal.”

They cleaned up their coffee cups and made their way out of the hospital cafeteria and into the hall, but they didn’t get far when, down the hall, they heard the low growl of someone cursing and the clatter of metal falling to the floor. They looked up just in time to catch a familiar pointed-ear blur push through a bewildered crowd. An angry man shouted after her while aggressively pointing both hands at the pile of instruments he had dropped—Byulyi, with her hand pressed over her face, didn’t turn back.

“Ah ,” Hyejin mumbled.

“You were right,” Wheein said with a sigh. “Should we go after her?”

“Maybe we should split up. I’ll go see if Yongsun-unnie is okay, and—”

“Nope,” Wheein said, grabbing her girlfriend by the elbow, “you’re coming with me.”

Yongsun tossed and turned that night but found herself unable to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she pictured the disappointment on Byulyi’s face, and the words, blaringly red: “You will never be satisfied.” Intellectually, she understood that theories are seldom conclusive. Evidence tend to disprove more than prove anything of value—but Byulyi...there were so many questions with no answers, so many unknown variables. What good could possibly come of this? Byulyi didn’t deserve to be thrown within a thousand miles of her storm.

She pulled her pillow over her head in attempt to drown out her own thoughts and sleep. Just one hour and maybe she could believe it would all be okay.

Deep into night, as she laid awake with her pillow shielding her face with a false sense of safety, she heard the clack of her door. The nurse? Her whole body went still, as if movement would betray her deepest thoughts. If she didn’t move, perhaps they would go away soon. Her eyes squeezed shut. Please go away. Don’t look at me; don’t think less of me—go away, go away, go away.

“Yongsun-ah.”

Yongsun whipped around, throwing her pillow back and her blankets forward. A violent shiver crept through her spine as she pushed herself up by the elbow, eyes wide in the dark.

Hovering over her in the dark was a broken spirit, a face she could hardly recognize, hallowed, ghostly, and red as it was. “Joohyun?”

Joohyun stepped into the light of the window, the white fluorescent light in the hallway filtering through her blinds casting a pale glow onto her pale skin. Her lips twitched, the full effort of a smile lost to interpretation. Her shoulders were slumped, tired, and something about the whole ghastly scene broke Yongsun’s heart. For a moment, she even wondered if she had died. Perhaps they were both dead somehow, despite how hard Joohyun had battled those doctors and nurses hours ago.

“Hey,” Joohyun rasped.

“What are you doing here? It’s...early, isn’t it?”

Joohyun shrugged, her wings sagging about her like dead weight. “I tried to go see Wan. Slapped a doctor, but they wouldn’t let me see her, so I came to see you.”

Yongsun scoffed in her attempt to laugh. “I’m surprised they didn’t kick you out.”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

Yongsun shook her head with her smile, shuffling back and opening her arms to let Joohyun into the small space on her hospital bed. Joohyun folded her wings back and slipped under the covers without another word. As they faced each other, troubled water in both sets of eyes, an unspoken truce seemed to be struck. Though they said nothing, their chests expanded and the welcome comfort of a familiar presence, a safe harbour, seemed to be everything.

“How are you doing?” Yongsun whispered. She gingerly untucked Joohyun’s hands from under her chin, and ran a thumb over the hard, scratchy material of her wrist braces. “Does it still hurt?”

Joohyun’s dark eyes flickered down to her own hands. God, how she hated those useless things. “No,” she replied. “Just sore, I guess.”

Silence and steady breaths filled the space between them like needle and thread along the seams of their friendship.

Then, Joohyun let all her broken fragments out: “I thought she was going to die. That moment—seeing Seungwan and...and the blood. I want to see her so badly...I miss her so much.” Yongsun reached out and held her head to her chest, gently her hair. It was the first time she’d ever seen Joohyun cry, and it was almost cathartic to see her friend, so aloof and so guarded, finally give herself the chance to be honest.

“I don’t want to live in a world without her,” Joohyun said with a sniffle. “I’ve wasted so much time—I just...I need her. I need her so much. She doesn’t deserve this. There’s just...so much she still has to do—if she died, I—I don’t know what I’d do. Even now...the doctor says she’s fine, but my heart is so...so tight. I wish I could take her place.”

“Don’t say that. You would put her through so much grief...It’s my fault,” Yongsun whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t—please.” Joohyun tightened her hold on Yongsun. “This...it doesn’t help.”

“You’re right,” Yongsun mumbled into her hair. “I’m sorry for taking it out on you. I’m sorry this whole mess with Byulyi happened—I was just...I am—just so scared. I was an idiot. All these years buried in books—what’s the use?”

Joohyun pulled back slightly to meet Yongsun’s eyes. Then, in the first of several surprises, she smiled. “We were all idiots. I mean, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Byulyi...she’s a good kid.”

“What? Are you cursed?”

Joohyun shook her head. “No matter how much I threatened her, she told me she loves you. Sure, it made me angry at the time since she tried to drag Seungwan into it, but, damn, she was brave. Much braver than I am. You know…it’s not easy for anybody to love so openly and wholeheartedly like that. It was like she had everything yet nothing to lose at the same time—it was magnificent. I really wish I could…take those kinds of risks. I don’t know. I still think she’s stupid, but I think she would move mountains for you. I don’t think it’s just a curse either, she’s just—”

“I know. It’s science.”

“What?”

Yongsun pulled at her hair lightly, a resigned smile flickering over her lips. “My scent,” she said. “That’s what she’s drawn to. It’s the Faragasian jasmine.”

Joohyun was silent for a moment, her inscrutable eyes glittering. Then came the second of Joohyun’s surprises: “Shut the up and cut the bull.” It wasn’t angry, but as calm as a stated fact. Still, Yongsun’s eyes widened.

“Joohyun!”

Joohyun rested a hand on her shoulder. “Not even someone as dense as you can believe a theory with so many holes.”

Yongsun pouted. “But she admitted to—”

“Yongsun-ah...listen, you’re right. She’s probably into your scent. What do you expect? She’s a dog. But that doesn’t explain anything about her feelings and, more importantly, your feelings.”

“B-but the jasmine—the attraction isn’t real,” Yongsun said weakly.

“Unless…” Joohyun narrowed her eyes. “She didn’t...take advantage of you, did she?”

“N-n-no! Of course not! Well, sort of, I mean, we...w-we kissed? It…it was mutual.”

Joohyun smiled again and pressed her forehead against Yongsun’s shoulder. “Then she’s already a better person than me. Listen...don’t let a stupid thing like a flower or a song ruin your chance at happiness. You can lose everything in a moment and nothing will matter, so don’t...don’t wait for that moment.”

Yongsun closed her eyes. She could feel Joohyun’s salt-slicked cheeks against her own, the heartbreak in every syllable echoing.

“When I thought Seungwan was dying,” Joohyun murmured, “I couldn’t stop thinking the worst. I couldn’t stop thinking about how...how a life is worth so, so, so much more than our blind selfishness can see, and how...how we let such stupid control us.” She tightened her grip on Yongsun’s shirt. “Honestly...what’s a moment of fear compared to everything that could’ve been? We could all die tomorrow, Yong. And I don’t want to ing die like this.” She slammed her fist against Yongsun’s back—Yongsun winced, but, though she did not fully comprehend this yet, the grief in that blow stirred something deep inside. “I don’t want Seungwan to die like this.”

“I know.” Her fingers slipped through her hair. Like taking off a mask, she rubbed off the doubt. “She’s fine,” she whispered. “I’m fine, you’re fine, and everything will be fine. Everything will be okay.”

At least, curled up in the comfort and security of each other’s arms, it felt like it will.

Notes: I'd originally planned this to be a part of the previous chapter, but it got too long on its own. This chapter came at a very interesting time in my life. I was working on this story actually, and was about 90% finished when I received a message that a friend of mine had suddenly passed away at work. This week has been an interesting one in trying to figure out my feelings and trying to convey Joohyun's feelings at the same time. Sometimes a number of things just seem to align and it changes you in a way, just as it does to these characters. This chapter did get a little more intense than I'd intended, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same. 

And don't worry, my friends, AIU is not finished yet. As it often goes, the story is telling itself, and it's not ready to finish yet. If you've been here since the beginning, thank you from the bottom of my heart for staying. 

Lastly, HAPPY 4TH ANNIVERSARY TO OUR QUEENS. Mamamoo, our forever shining stars, you've worked hard~

Hope to see you again all soon :)