Momo doesn't know what to think when there are too many words to say. She looks at Sana as they sit together backstage. It's an hour before their concert starts. Momo has a lot of time to think and no matter how hard she tries her thoughts always stray from rehearsing her moves and lyrics to the girl beside her who sits and stares at the wall.

She looks almost like a lifeless doll, her makeup perfect and untouched by the sweat of dancing and singing, her hair perfectly flowing down her shoulders, not a single bit of it out of place, her legs covered with a fluffy jacket, keeping out the cold because her outfit left her legs . Her expression is forlorn, but not overly so, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, her eyebrows only slightly turned in, set in a relaxed position, curved downward with the natural shape of her cheeks. She just looks at the wall, and it makes Momo's thoughts run wild.

Momo feels that she has known Sana for a good part of their entire lives. Maybe she likes to think in her head that she was only truly alive once she had met her. But despite all this time together, making memories, learning about each other, loving and hating and crying together, Momo feels like all that time has been wasted.

What was the point of the time she had shared the same ice-cream with Sana, giggling as they realised it was an indirect kiss when they on the same spot? What was the point of the whispers and the secrets that they only ever told each other? What was their promise to debut together for? What was all their time as teammates afterward?

To Momo, it was all a waste of time because no matter what she did, or how long she spent with Sana, she never seemed to get any deeper. It was always surface level. The laughs, the kisses and cuddles and maybe even the promises. Momo didn't really know. She knew nothing. Nothing about Sana and nothing about herself.

So, looking at Sana now, in the moments when she didn't realise that someone was watching, Momo tried to learn. She watched her hands clinging to the jacket that covered her legs. Her knuckles white and her thumbs clenched in. Was it nerves? Was it cold? Was it something else entirely?

She saw the way clenched every now and again with a swallow. Her shoulders rising and falling as if to relieve pain. Her neck tilting to the side and the other side in turn as if to stretch. Momo didn't know what these movements meant, but she knew they meant something. Everyone has their own unique language; Momo just didn't understand Sana's.

She wants to ask her out loud.

"When you tilt your head like that, does that mean you're sore?"

"Are you nervous? Is that why your fists are clenched?"

"Sana, what are you feeling?"

But she's too afraid. She's tried something similar before. The answer was always the same.

"I'm fine."

And maybe Momo's looking into it too deeply. Maybe she's reading things from Sana's language and translating them completely wrong. Gaining the wrong signals and making everything worse. Maybe that was it.

There are only ten minutes left now. Twice is standing on their platforms, waiting for the 'all clear' to be raised up onto the stage for the world to see. Momo is next to Sana and she wants to say something before she forgets.

"Sana," She begins, looking to the girl that stands beside her. Sana doesn't turn toward her, but Momo knows she's listening. It makes her frustrated that she can notice something so insignificant about her. Momo can see the way Sana's eyes are focused in front of her, but her hand is tapping against her thigh and her head is cocked only slightly in her direction and realise that she's listening. She can see all that, but she can never decipher what truly mattered.

And just like that, Momo is lost for words. Too many things that she wants to say are jumbling in the front of her mind and she can read them, just like she can't read Sana.

"Sana," She says again, trying to order everything. From the way her heart beats when she looks Momo's way, to the shape of her hands and how they move when it's cold. From the way her body is simultaneously a foreign language and familiar like a home to the tears that might or might not have been present in her eyes only a few minutes prior. There's too much to say. There's too much she shouldn't. There's too much that she should. It scares her into silence.

There is one minute.

Momo's ears, though plugged with the in-ears, can hear the crowd above going crazy along with the beat of the music as they anticipated the arrival of Twice on stage. Momo can't say anything now, because Sana wouldn't hear it. It would be a waste. Just like everything else.

All that time spent thinking about what to say could have been spent saying. All that time watching Sana could have been spent learning how to read her. It's like Momo doesn't know what the right thing to do is. It's like she's sitting in the back seat of a car that someone stupid drives along and not saying anything as they reach for their phone and increase the speed to dangerous levels even though the road is wet, and the air is foggy.

She says it again: "Sana," Starting a sentence that nobody can hear.

Sana takes her hand as the platform begins to rise up. A familiar sensation. But what does it mean?

Momo squeezes back.

"Are you alright?" She asks no one because not even she could hear her own voice above the screaming and the bass.

Sana lets go as they stand together on stage, the lights blinding them and the in-ears starting the count in for the song.

It just makes Momo think that she's done something wrong. But she knows she's just reading into it much too deeply.

She forgets what else she was going to say after all is over.

Sana remains as indecipherable as before.

Momo feels like thinking about Sana is difficult... but it just won't stop.

Maybe it isn't all a waste of time when she looks over at Momo after the concert is over, that smile lighting up her whole face and even the room and her hands gripping her by the shoulders and twirling her around like she was a little girl.

"We did good, Momoring!"

Momo forgets about trying to decipher Sana, just for a moment. She didn't want to waste any more time.