It was a good thing that I always wore dark-coloured clothes to school anyway. When I arrived at my best friend's funeral service, the place was packed with people coming and leaving. Yuna had always been a nice and friendly person, so she was liked by many for her positive personality. People never quite understood why I was her best friend, since I was kind of quiet and rather blunt whenever I spoke. She would cutely reply, "She's cute that way. And do you know, she's super smart!"

I paid my respects to her, then turned to her mother. Despite her bright personality, Yuna had grown up in a single parent family, and used to be bullied for it during her childhood. It pained me to see her photo on the altar, and it pained me to see her mother so tired she was no longer able to produce tears. 

"Jisoo-ah..." She pulled me into an embrace, one that we both hoped would drown the pain that we shared. 

"I can't believe this." Her voice was muffled against my shoulder.

"Me neither. I will never believe she did this," I said. I didn't want to rekindle her hope for an investigation at this point. I would rather spare the poor woman the pain than be so cruel. 

"I should have paid more attention to her. It was all my fault. I was too busy to visit her at the hospital. And I thought she was fine..." her tears were wetting my hoodie, but I didn't care. "The doctors said she was showing depressive signs, but they were still observing to be sure. Was it because I neglected her? Was it all my fault?" She sobbed profusely into my shoulder, allowing my hug to be her only comfort in that single moment. I was too exhausted from all the upset at that point to think about it, but my instincts told me something was amiss. Something didn't seem right about what she said. 

At that moment, however, someone else caught my attention. 

"What are you doing here?" I mouthed to Changkyun, who was staring at me from a distance away, expressionless as usual. He signaled me to hold on to that question for now, and directed my attention back to the mourning parent. 

Changkyun and I left the funeral home together that night, after helping to clear up the area and sending Yuna's mother home. He remained silent for most of our bus ride. The silence was deafening, given the long journey ahead and the fact that it