“My eyes come in contact with you”

“It’s close to me”

“It’s only about us”

“You and me, Déjà vu”

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Jihyo loved singing. She always did. Since childhood she had dreamt of being on stage, singing her heart out for the beloved audience that was screaming her name.

That’s why, despite the circumstances, she considered it incredibly lucky to get a job as a nightly bar singer. Of course, it was a far cry from her imagination- there weren’t that many people, and it wasn’t exactly appropriate to scream and shout her name. Still, it was a music club of considerable renown among true music lovers; and while the audience could never hope to reach that of a real stage, Jihyo was already having difficulties remembering all the faces of people who wanted to buy her drinks, rambling on about how much they loved her performance.

She had begun as a cash-strapped student, desperate to alleviate her financial hardship with effort alone. It was manual labor for her at first- waiting tables, laundry, all that stuff. But then, former employers of hers started to acknowledge her vocal abilities. They had come to admonish her rather negligent working style, but had stayed in stunned silence to behold the sight of an adorable singer, dancing twirling around whatever she had in hand whilst singing with a voice befitting of a goddess.

One thing happened after another, and before Jihyo knew it, she was offered a job where she could ‘shine the way she deserved to’, said one teary-eyed shop owner as they exchanged their farewell hugs.

Now, it had been three months since she last stepped onto the small, minimally-decorated stage, but the first of many to welcome her presence- at least, that was what Jihyo thought. She was nothing if not optimistic, for she believed only with a positive attitude could she go the distances she had strived for.

The first performance, Jihyo was nervous. Her voice quivered and shook under pressure. People had clapped politely, and she had felt beyond disappointed with herself.

Over time, she got used to being the center of attention. Over time, the support became increasingly wholehearted.

It had been two months since she received her first deafening round of applause.

It had been one month since she first received a bouquet from an admirer.

All of those, Jihyo now deemed a norm. Her talent was finally recognized, and she was happy.

Yet, in all those three months, something- someone- still remained as mysterious to her as the very first night.

Amidst the crowd stood a girl. Tall, slender and pretty, she stared at Jihyo with a penetrating gaze.

When the song was over, the girl smiled a beautiful smile.

And she clapped. Loudly.

She clapped the first time, when no one else did. And she clapped when everyone did all the same.

The sound of her applause always seemed to make its way through many of its kind, straight to Jihyo’s ears. It rang unique and affectionate.

So Jihyo made it a custom to go around the room to give high-fives to her enthusiastic listeners. She wanted to high-five the girl. She wanted, if just once, to make up for a half of what created that wonderful sound that had kept her going through the hard times.

Yet, the girl never returned her waiting arm. She walked right past it, trudging back to her single table slowly.

As if Jihyo had never been there in front of her.

Only on the third time her hand was ignored did Jihyo realize, through another customer’s sympathetic whispers, that the girl could not see.

______

“Blindsight?”

“Yes. I see you, but I can’t see you.”

Jihyo stared into the bright round irises, where reflections of light danced together merrily in a sparkling onyx background.

Of course, Jihyo wasted no time getting around to know the girl. Her admirer, whose name Jihyo now knew was Tzuyu, was overjoyed when the singer she so idolized approached her table and touched her hand. Then, upon Jihyo’s sheepish explanation, she profusely apologized, and thereby quickly confirmed the tragic insight.

Tzuyu seemed to sense Jihyo’s explanation, as she patiently turned sideways and brushed her long wavy hair aside, revealing a sizable scar that zigzagged from behind her right ear to the area just above her neck, finally hiding its end somewhere behind the silky tresses.

“I had an accident when I was thirteen. My eyes were fine, but my brain was damaged. It no longer processes visual information. I’m looking at you, but all I can see is a thick gray mist, if you will.”

Jihyo was at a loss for words.

“Tzuyu-ssi… I’m very sorry to hear that.” She decided to settle with the usual offer of condolences.

At this, Tzuyu’s hand started to feel around the table as if searching for something. Without hesitation, Jihyo quickly reached out and took the floundering hand in her own. Thankful for the assistance, Tzuyu tightened the hold and smiled.

“Please don’t be, Jihyo-ssi. It’s unfortunate, but it’s quite an adventure, I can assure you that.”

______

Time passed, and the girls became fast friends. Being a student with constant trouble with money, Jihyo hardly ever had time to spend to enjoy herself; any activity that involved hanging out with others was a luxury she could ill afford. As it stood, she had next to no friend. She had acquaintances at best, who were appreciative of her kind-hearted nature and therefore ready to help her out if needed. Nevertheless, there was no one she could really confide in, to share secrets, or simply to laugh together at simple dumb jokes.

That person, she found in Tzuyu.

Being the daughter of intellectual background, Tzuyu was quite keen on studying, especially when it concerned her own mishap. That said, along with joking and goofing around, they also spent a large portion of their time coming up with various different tests and observations, intent on exploring the depths of Tzuyu’s condition.

Their most significant discovery, after countless fruitless ventures, was that she could feel certain things thanks to her brain adapting with its own malfunction. They had a mini-experiment that they developed themselves, whereby they could see if Tzuyu was really perceiving information in a different way than others. To Jihyo’s surprise, Tzuyu instinctively smiled when she put a picture of a cute puppy in front of her. Similarly, Tzuyu had felt a slight sense of fear and apprehension at one point, and Jihyo revealed she was showing her a scary picture of a ghost.

It had felt ecstatic. They thought of themselves as master scientists, on the cusp of unveiling an otherworldly mystery.

______

They now walked leisurely, hand in hand as per usual, along the riverside. Jihyo breathed in deeply, relishing in the cool fresh air. She had been straining her voice quite a bit lately, and Tzuyu insisted they took a day off.

“Do you want to sit down?” Catching sight of a lone bench, she asked her companion.

Tzuyu nodded. “You’re the leader, Jihyo-unnie. I follow what