"Really? She sounds way too good to be true," Yongguk muttered out as he threw a soccer ball into the air and caught it. "You sure you're not dreaming?"

Junhong rolled his eyes and smiled. It was a small, wry smile. "I'm sure. I swear, though. Hayi is as real as my hand," he said before he took a sip out of his water bottle. The young man was sitting on the bench, resting during soccer practice. Yongguk was training to be a soccer coach and so, volunteered to help out with the high school team. 

"Doesn't sound real, Junhong," Yongguk told the soccer player. Then, he blew his whistle, signalling the end of the practice. Junhong scrunched up his face distastefully. As if Yongguk didn't believe him. He shook his head, sending his hair flicking back and forth until Junhong was satisfied, the thick blue stripe in his dark brown fringe. Yongguk had no reason to not believe him. After all, it's not like Junhong made up stories. He prided himself in being a rather honest and straightforward guy. "Alright, good job, everyone. Now, go shower up and get ready for school. It'll start in about 3 minutes."

The high school team groaned and whined, making Yongguk smile in return. He looked back at the young man, who was grabbing his towel and refilling his water bottle. "It just doesn't add up, Junhong. Taking her in, your mother not acknowledging her, her name nowhere on record... doesn't it sound just a little suspicious to you?" 

"What do you mean? That I imagined her? I thought her up in the vast depths of my subconscious? Yongguk, you know I'm not crazy." With that said and no good-bye, he stomped off to go shower and attend his homeroom class. 

Yongguk sighed heavily. He began to bag up all the training balls that the high school kids were too negligent to pick up. Despite most of the time being a very logical man, he was also known to be quite superstitious. "I know, kid. That's what worries me." 

###

"It's just two credits. It's not like it was my fault anyway. I went on tour with my dance crew for a semester. Sorry if that's what I want to do. These teachers thinking I'm dumb trash. I get this math!" Jongup was exclaiming loudly, enough for the hallway to hear. Junhong laughed as he idly listened to his friend rant about injustice to the "super" seniors in high school. Or, rather, the students who couldn't graduate on time and had to take an extra semester. 

It was almost time to go home. It was so close but so far. Junhong looked around for some sort of time-telling device. He peered over his shoulder but couldn't find any. Jongup didn't notice as he continued fishing out his textbooks from the messy locker the two shared. Junhong let out an airy, distracted chuckle as a response to one of Jongup's louder-than-his-normal outbursts. That's when the dancer took notice. 

"You certainly have your head in the clouds. What is it, huh? Soccer? School? Parents? Rapping? The stupid computers here? The amazing guy of your dreams?" Jongup assaulted Junhong with one question after the other. Junhong couldn't help but to genuinely laugh at the last question. He shook his head vigorously, his smile bright and wide. 

"Nah, not a guy. She's a beauty," he countered playfully, slamming the locker door for Jongup. 

"Oho. When can I meet her? I think it's time she sees what a real man is like."

"Says the shorter one." 

A snort from Jongup. "Whatever. You're just jealous that I happen to have signed women's s before."

Junhong closed his eyes and groaned. "Okay, image not needed, thanks. She would never."

Jongup smiled charmingly to a passing flock of girls. They all giggled joyously in response. "Aw, we don't know that yet. C'mon, I gotta meet her! How about after school?"

"You got it, Jongup." The two parted ways on such a note, pounding each other's knuckles before they went to their respective classes. 

###

Junhong was going to prove to both of them that Hayi was real. She was as sweet as a summer's sunset. Her presence lightened the air around her, filling it with a unique, melancholy essence of belonging and sincerity. Her graceful awkwardness captivated her onlookers'. She had a delicate face that brightened the room with a shadowy glow, like a nightlight in a toddler's room, whenever she smiled.

However, as he walked into his house with his two doubting friends behind him, he heard no singing.