“I’m not ready… I’m so sorry,” Her voice is quiet, the words had been soft and gentle. As if the words before hadn’t been full of anger, laced with toxic venom. Sakura wonders if it would’ve been easier, if Eunbi hadn’t apologized. They had argued for so long, neither of them could remember what triggered it, what started it, but they knew the words that had been exchanged was poisonous, too harsh to take back, then move on from. So, instead of saying more, Eunbi leaves. She doesn’t tell Sakura where she’s going, because the Japanese is smart enough to figure it out if she ever wants to.

Sakura started hating herself for the first time that night.

Eunbi’s words replay in her head. Sakura thinks that was the first time she’d heard her girlfriend—oh… sorry, ex-girlfriend — sound so mad and aggressive. She’s certain that in any other situation, she would’ve found it hot, but it hurt worse than anything Sakura has ever experienced.

The next morning, Sakura finds herself reaching for Eunbi’s hand on the opposite side of the bed. All she feels is cold satin.

Miyawaki Sakura doesn’t cry.

But she came close to it, that morning.

She feels like she has forgotten how to function on her own, when she forgets the simplest things like bring towels with her when she showers because Eunbi… her dear Eunbi would always do that for her when she had come to the bathroom to ask what she wanted for breakfast. Sakura has to compose