A faint red light greets Wendy when she opens her dorm room, the string tangled in under the bed sheets, the legs of a chair and then around the study table, until it falls past straight to her feet. The string moves as lithe arms wrap around her, the familiar scent of lavander invading her senses.

 “they say the body replaces itself with a largely new set of cells every seven to ten years.” joohyun stops reading her book, listens to seungwan’s one of many musings. “so we essentially become new people then?”