The first time it happened, you didn't understand. 

How could you though, when you were only two years old and couldn't read the numbers hanging ominously over your aunt's head, or even know that the fiery, angry color the said dates were emblazoned in was called "red"?

All you knew was that, ever since then, you would see different dates floating on the exact same spot on everyone's head every time you looked up past their eyes, as though an invisible hand was writing the numbers with a thin, wispy finger. Later, you found yourself figuring out that the date format was MM/DD/YY, judging from the six-digit combination, and judging from the date that your aunt died of a heart attack. 

You started to care about those numbers when you met your first friend in elementary school. To anyone else, it was the typical shy-girl-talks-to-shy-boy-one-fine-day-in-the-school-playground trope. And that would have easily been the case, if it weren't for the dates on top of his head telling you that he was going to die on the same date, three years later. Maybe that was the real reason you made friends with Elliot. Maybe your childlike innocence and desire to do good believed you could save him. 

Not being able to do anything except watch him cough up blood one moment, and then simply disappear from school a mere few days after, might have qualified as your first heartbreak. You thought as much when you spent nights falling asleep with tears spilling on to your pink pillow. 

No one batted an eye after Elliot (because the world was just cold that way), but a rumor had formed after another one of your friends, this time a little girl with pigtails and round eyes named Isabelle, was bitten by a poisonous snake in the middle of your fourth grade. 

It was an absurd rumor, one that obviously was made up by a child's mind, but it spread like wildfire throughout the elementary school and stuck like gum to a shoe: Anyone who made friends with the quiet Korean girl Roseanne Park would die. 

You wondered why you even hoped you could help Isabelle when you couldn't help Elliot, but then again, your pure—albeit twice broken—heart also wondered why you shouldn't have. Even if only for a little while. 

Still, you decided it was better that, after Isabelle, you didn't make friends with anyone with a close date of death on his head. Because of all the whispering and the panicked looks from students who caught your eye in the hallways, though, you ended up never really befriending anyone at all. 

But that was fine. You couldn't get your heart broken if you didn't have anyone to break your heart over, right? 

Eventually, you took to singing to yourself, especially on days when the loneliness pierced you just a little too deeply. However lethal and death-bringing everyone thought your hands were, no one could ever say the same about your sweet, enchanting voice. In fact, your singing voice seemed to have an effect similar to that of a siren song: People became inexplicably drawn to you when you sang, and some would even go as far as to smile at you, looking as though they almost wanted to be your friend. 

Almost. 

Come middle school, the rumors slowly, very slowly started to die down, and your schoolmates started outgrowing it like they outgrew their old clothes and fashion trends. Like you, they wanted to be a new and improved version of themselves. Improvements which included not being gullible enough to believe in baseless gossip. 

You had your share of almost-friends. Including, surprisingly enough, the most popular girl in your school. 

For the third time in your life, you felt a painful, twisting sensation in your chest when you and this girl exchanged a few words in the halls before third period. Partly because you thought she was the most beautiful girl you'd ever seen, and partly because you were feeling something fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach a few seconds later. 

But mostly because you saw the date for the very next day written in an angry red color over her head. 

"Hey, so, I heard it's your birthday today, Rosie—" the shorter girl, Melissa, said slowly, like she was testing your name with her tongue. Looking unsure, she hastily added, "Do you mind if I call you Rosie?" You shook your head with a small smile. Reassured, she grinned back, a light blush creeping on her cheeks. "Right, then. Well, I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, Rosie." 

You tried hard to take your gaze away from the numbers, tears starting to make their way out of your eyes. Why did all the ones who were good to you have to be the ones who went first?

"Oh, don't cry," she whispered, gently laying a hand on your forearm, thinking you were crying for a different reason. 

The emotions swirling inside you—anger, grief, helplessness, and pain, so much pain—were too much for your thirteen year old self to bear right then. And so, not caring about what would inevitably happen afterward, you did something that was sure to spark the rumors about you yet again. 

You shuffled forward and hugged her tightly, biting down on your lip hard as you tried your best not to end up a sobbing mess on her shoulder. 

"Thank you," were the first and last words she would ever hear from you. 

Sure enough, the very next day, you could hear the whispering in the hallways ring louder and louder in your ears, deafening, even as you kept your head down and avoided eye contact. 

"I'm telling you, she's cursed!" 

"She's killed three people already, if you count Melissa—" 

"That's crazy, she hasn't killed anyone."

"Well maybe not directly! You're safe as long as you don't touch her." 

When it got to a point that even some of your teachers were starting to subtly avoid you, you felt that you couldn't handle another day in that school. 

Your father may have thought as much when, one morning at the dining table, he offhandedly mentioned something about an audition in Sydney being held by a Korean entertainment agency. 

As he talked, you realized that you never once thought about telling your parents and your older sister—or anyone else for that matter—about the numbers you saw on top of every head except your own. Yet somehow, they, especially your father, seemed to sense your unhappiness. Maybe he was giving you a way out. 

Maybe, as you nodded absentmindedly at his words, you were all too eager to grab that way out and cling to it with everything you had left. 

-----

The best thing about your new friend Lalisa Manoban, you thought, was not that she was almost as tall as you were, or that she had a pretty face shape, or that she never hesitated to talk your ears off even if you barely knew each other, and even if she was still stumbling in her use of the Korean language—although you did find all these things endearing from the first time you met her, inside an elevator at YG Entertainment in Seoul. 

The best thing about Lisa, you thought, was that the date floating above her head was very, very far into the future. 

"Hey Chaeng," she said one day, while you walked together to the dance class you shared, fingers intertwined. "You should really meet Jisoo unnie and Jennie unnie. I think you'd be great with them. They could use someone as quiet as you are to shame them for being so noisy."

You thought about this for a moment. "But you're noisy too, Lisa. I bet you're worse than both of them together."

"What? That's not true!" 

When you did meet Kim Jisoo in person later on, you were able to confirm that Lisa being the loudest was a fact. 

Being friends with your Jisoo unnie was as natural as the sun rising and setting—it was inevitable. You would have been devastated if you had to lose her too early. Thankfully, as with Lisa, you didn't have to worry about that. You remembered being mildly concerned about the way she quirked one eyebrow in fascination when she caught your eyes staring at what looked like her forehead one day, but that was as far as it got. 

You never noticed how she started observing you more closely every day after that. 

"Jisoo unnie, is Jennie unnie free today?" Lisa asked the older girl on the third day that she, you and Jisoo started sitting together for lunch. 

Jisoo shook her head as she took a bite out of her sandwich. After chewing thoughtfully, she answered, "I'm not sure if they've finished filming that music video with her and G-Dragon sunbaenim yet."

"Wow," was all you could say to that, too amazed that this Jennie person was hand-picked to feature in a music video of G-Dragon, no less. Even in Australia, you recalled, his name was a familiar one. 

Lisa appeared to be too preoccupied to share those feelings, though. With a frown, she muttered, "I was hoping Chae would be able to meet everyone by now." 

"Aish, stop stressing, Lalisa," Jisoo scolded. She reached for your hand under the table and gave you a reassuring smile. Using a gentler tone of voice, she added, "Chaeyoung will see her soon enough." 

See her you did, but at one point in your life you wished you never had. 

Not because you found Kim Jennie intimidating despite being shorter than you were, or because she looked at you with narrowed eyes when she first made eye contact with you, or even because she gave you nothing more than a half-smile when you walked by her once on the way to your Japanese class. 

You wished you had never seen her, but the truth was, you only wished you had never seen the date of death floating over her head in that unmistakable angry red color. 

You remembered the unspoken rule you had made for yourself years before, the one where you weren't supposed to make friends with anyone dying in ten years or less. Right then, Jennie had six, but in the end, even with all the deaths you always saw were coming, you didn't have the heart to try and dislike her once you met officially. 

Even if she was intimidating at first. 

"Rosieeeeee," you heard a drawn-out whine from beside you, snapping you out of your thoughts and bringing you back to the present. "What are you thinking about?" 

A little smile started to tug at the corners of your lips as you felt the living room sofa dip a little, and turned to face Jennie. You reminded yourself to always look at her eyes, and not the top of her head. "Memories from before we debuted, mostly. Like that time I thought you were the scariest person ever." 

"Really?" she asked, and you could see the beginnings of a cute pout forming on her bottom lip. "You thought I was scary?" 

You couldn't help but laugh at how far off the mark your first impression of her was. You shook your head. "You do know what an RBF is, don't you, unnie?" 

"I do not have a resting face!" Jennie retorted, placing a hand over her chest as if offended by your remark. 

You rolled your eyes, the smile growing on your face, and there may or may not have been a light blush on your cheeks. "Oh, right, because your B face never actually rests. I'm sorry I got it wrong." 

"Oh shut up," she said half-heartedly. "I can't believe you're actually censoring yourself from saying ''." 

You could only push her shoulder lightly in response. Both of you fell silent for a few minutes as your laughter started to die down. 

"Why are you out here, though? Couldn't sleep?" 

You nodded. "I think I need to bug my human pillow again." 

"I've always wondered how you could ever consider Lisa a pillow," Jennie said, and if you weren't too caught up with trying not to look past her eyes, you would have heard the resentment in her voice. "She's so thin."

"I don't know," you shrugged. "I just fall asleep more easily beside her. Maybe because she's always asleep first?" 

The pout on the other girl's face made itself fully known. You always got flustered whenever she appeared cute for you on purpose, and this was one of those times. 

"Make me your human pillow for tonight instead." 

"H-Huh? I..." You tried to think of a response, but Jennie's words caught you off-guard. 

"What? You don't want to?" 

"It's n-not that, it's just—I probably would end up not getting any sleep." 

"Oh." The pout on Jennie's face turned into a frown. "Because you still think I'm scary? Even after all these years?" 

Because I'll keep getting reminded how much time you have left. You're not scary, but knowing I'm losing you so soon is. 

"No, because we'll both have trouble falling asleep and end up talking until morning. Like now." 

"Fine," she conceded with a huff. "You've been out here a lot lately, though. Is there something bothering you?" You felt her eyes scanning your face, as though she might find answers if she did. "Is that why you're having trouble sleeping?" 

"Maybe," you muttered, avoiding her stare. Before Jennie could say anything in response, you took a deep breath and looked up, using all your willpower to see only her face and not the numbers on top of her head. "Unnie, can you promise me something?" 

"Anything," she said softly, and if you weren't so torn up inside thinking about how much time she had left, you might have noticed her inching closer to you, a cautious hand slowly placing itself on one of your own. 

"Please take care of yourself," you said simply, not wanting to give anything else away. 

"I promise I will," she paused. "You've been saying that a lot lately, too. Is there something you're not telling me?" 

A lot, you thought. "No, nothing, unnie," you said. 

The older girl let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine. I get it. There are some things you'll only talk to Lisa about but not to me or Jisoo unnie." She narrowed her eyes at you, in as much as she did the first time that you made eye contact when you were trainees. By then, you knew what that look meant. 

"So I'll wait for you to tell me when you're ready, okay? But you better not take too long. I'm not sure how long I can wait." 

You felt your heart sink right then, because you knew exactly how long she had to wait before she no longer could. 

"I know."

-----

You remembered the first time you talked to anyone other than yourself about your "ability" to see death dates, for lack of a better word—besides "curse", because ninety-nine percent of the time, that was how you felt. Cursed. 

It was the day after CEO Yang formally announced that you, Lisa, Jisoo and Jennie were finally scheduled to debut as YG's new girl group Blackpink. At first, you were so happy, ecstatic even, that you were going to be doing something you were passionate about, together with three other people who you loved with all your heart, and there could be nothing better than that.

Then it all came crashing down in your head the moment you thought about dates. 

Just when you thought the universe couldn't have been more cruel to you by giving you an ability you never wanted, you realized that the month and date of your debut was the same date you kept seeing on top of Kim Jennie's head. 

The universe had decided she was going to die on the same month and date, two years later. 

Four years had flown by all too quickly. You were so busy frantically trying not to be close to Jennie after both of you were introduced, only to give in not too long after that when you found that she wasn't actually as unfriendly as you had first thought. Then, as you spent more and more time together, you found yourself liking her too much, and the thought of death claiming her so soon was even more unbearable than it already was. 

How you managed to keep yourself together until then, with all those thoughts in your mind, was a question you didn't know the answer to, but at that very moment, you found yourself finally unraveling. 

"Hey, Chaeng, I have some snacks, you want—" 

You looked up at the source of the voice just as the first few tears started to fall down your cheeks. Lisa froze at the sight, her hand still on the doorknob on the outside of your room. 

She quickly closed the door behind her after hearing a small whimper escape your lips. She made her way to the middle of your bed, where you were sitting, and in a matter of seconds, she had you in her arms. She held you steadily as you trembled, unable to hold back the sobs wracking your body. "Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay." 

Right then, you realized you were so tired of holding everything inside of you for so long. If there was another soul you could share the burden with, you believed it could be Lisa. 

So you did. While she rocked you gently that night, and while you held on to her so tightly, as if she would evaporate into thin air the moment you let go, you told her about your curse, about your aunt, about Elliot, about Isabelle and Melissa, about how you came to Seoul trying to get away from those memories, about how you thought you might just die along with Jennie because you didn't know if your heart could take witnessing yet another death of someone you cared about. 

"You should've told me earlier, Chaeng," you heard her whisper, the back of your head with one hand. "It must've been so hard keeping it to yourself all this time." 

"I didn't—didn't think you would believe me," you answered, your voice muffled against her shirt. "That anyone would believe me." 

"Well, for the record," she said firmly, "I do."

Days and days after that were spent with both of you searching the internet for possible answers, or people who might have had the same ability as you did. Since your debut was coming, the only time you could do your research was after practices, which meant several sleepless nights and fruitless searches. 

You often found yourself in Lisa's room more than your own, and eventually, you would cuddle up next to her—she always fell asleep first, her phone discarded beside her—and try to go to sleep yourself. 

Sometimes, you tried to figure out what Jennie's cause of death would be. Surprisingly, Lisa didn't seem too fazed to talk about something that would have been very uncomfortable to any other person. 

"I think we can cross 'terminal illness' off the list," she said one night. "We've all been getting regular check-ups, so if there was something, we would've known by now."

You were on her bed, your side turned to face her, as she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. "How else can someone die?" you thought out loud, but not actually wanting to know. 

Lisa hesitated. "I kind of have a guess, if you'll hear me out." 

You nodded. She briefly tilted her head towards you, then swallowed before looking upwards once more.

"I don't think Jennie unnie's date of death being the same date as the anniversary of our debut is a coincidence. So I'm thinking that it could be an accident, or a murder." 

You were never able to get those words out of your head since then. Accident, murder. It could only be one or the other. 

If you weren't so caught up trying to play psychic-slash-detective to figure out your unnie's future cause of death, you might have noticed how much the youngest member of your group started to look forward to your nightly visits to her room. (Although at first, Lisa felt a little uneasy with the fact that your main point of conversation was always death, she couldn't deny that she was willing to talk with you about virtually anything just for the sake of having you all to herself for a little while.) You might have noticed that she was a bit too fervent in helping you with your internet searches, even with little to no sleep; or you might have noticed her random bursts of frustration that came from not being able to protest whenever any of the other members had a little too much skinship with you (so she often overcompensated by becoming the touchiest of them all). 

Because of how tired you were most nights, you never saw that, a few hours after you'd fall asleep on her bed, Lisa would stir, sit up, and brush her fingers through your hair, a small frown ever present on her lips, and a bittersweet feeling ever present somewhere inside her chest. 

-----

On one of the few nights that you couldn't stay with Lisa (At the time she was still in Japan, shooting for a magazine.), it was Jisoo who found you in the living room, sitting in front of a muted television, your eyes on the screen but your mind somewhere else entirely. 

Wordlessly, the older girl went to the kitchen and then came back to sit next to you, handing you a glass of water. You turned to her with a weak smile. "Thank you, unnie." 

"You can thank me after you tell me what's on your mind this time," she said bluntly, placing the book she'd been holding on to her lap. You wondered why she said the words "this time", before you remembered that she had caught you multiple times doing the same thing you were doing (or not doing) at that moment, and each time, you'd have the same response:

"It's nothing, really." 

You loved Jisoo, you really did, but you knew that she was closest with Jennie among any of you, and even if you trusted her to keep a secret, given its gravity, you weren't sure if she would be able to keep yours. 

Your gaze drifted down to the book. In an attempt to divert Jisoo's attention, you asked what it was about.

"It's about someone who wants to be a writer," she answered, "but he also stalks people who don't have anything to look forward to in life. Then when he thinks it's the right time, he offers to help them kill themselves."

"What does he get out of it, though?" 

"He records the stories of his victims in a book and plans to submit it to publishers when he's finished." 

"Does he ever get to do it?" 

Jisoo shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't gotten to that part yet." 

Me neither, you thought. You hadn't gotten to the part where you figured out an ending to your story that didn't involve Kim Jennie dying. 

"I think it's interesting though," she said, almost to herself. 

"What is?" 

"That there are people who want so badly to live while they're dying, and on the other hand, there are also people who want so badly to die when they're living." 

For all the silliness and childish behavior she never seemed to run out of, Jisoo was truly wise beyond her years. You could only stare at the closed book, trying hard to wrap your head around what she had just said. 

"Would it be fair if they could just trade places?" you wondered out loud. 

Jisoo regarded your words thoughtfully, turning them over in her head. "What if they change their minds?" 

"But what if they don't?" you answered absentmindedly, your mind still repeating the phrase "trade places" in a seemingly endless loop. 

"Chaeyoung," she said, a serious tone in her voice. "What are you thinking?" 

Everything. "Nothing," you said automatically. "I think I'll try and go back to sleep, unnie." 

"Wait," you heard her say behind you as you stood up. "Lisa isn't here tonight..."

Your eyes met her dark brown ones, and if you weren't so stuck inside your own thoughts about the possibility of saving your other unnie's life, you might have seen the yearning that this unnie had to be close to you that night. You might have noticed how she hesitated, wanting so much to tell you to stay with her, if only for that moment, but being unable to get the words out of . 

"I... I hope you sleep well, Chaeyoung-ah," was all she could say instead, her eyes shining with an emotion you couldn't quite place.

"You too, unnie," you replied, your smile never making it to your eyes. 

-----

As the second anniversary of Blackpink's debut drew ever closer, it gradually became clear to you what you had to do. 

"No! I won't let you!" was the first thing that Lisa whisper-shouted when you told her. She started pacing around the inside of her room, agitatedly running a hand through her hair. "You can't, Chaeng."

"I'm not asking for your permission," you said, a little more sharply than you intended. "I'm tired of just watching people die. If I can do something to prevent one death, I will." 

"By doing what? Offering yourself as a tribute? This isn't the Hunger Games," she snapped, her breaths becoming faster and shallower as she continued her pacing. "What makes you so sure that's even going to work? What if Jennie unnie dies anyway?" 

"I'm not. I'm not sure at all. But I have to try." 

Lisa's eyes were blazing when they met yours. It was rare, you thought, to see your group's maknae getting genuinely angry at you, of all people. But at that moment, you knew you were right, somehow, and no amount of anger from anyone was going to stop you. 

"I've been doing some research on my own," you continued. "I don't know what the odds are—" Actually you did, and they were very, very slim, but you didn't need Lisa to know that— "but agents of death like, say, the grim reaper, or the angel of death, would sometimes concede to an exchange. It doesn't matter who dies on a certain day, as long as someone does. To fill the numbers." 

"Then—Then let someone else save her!" she said hotly, desperation evident in the way her voice was shaking. 

"Lisa, there's no one else," you explained, your voice uncharacteristically even, sounding as if you were explaining a recipe for kimchi stew instead of your own death. "And even if you wanted to, you can't, either. Your date of death has already been decided. But since I can never see any dates on top of my head, mine probably hasn't yet." 

The younger girl froze at that, and you saw her gaze soften. She stood on the side of her bed where you were sitting, so that she was towering in front of you. 

"Please, Chaeyoung," she pleaded, two trembling hands reaching out to cup your cheeks. "Please don't do it. I can't lose you."

"But you can lose Jennie unnie?"

"I—I don't know, Chae. I don't know." You felt her hands leave your face as she swiped the tears that were spilling down her own. "I don't know anymore." 

"I'm sorry, Lisa," you said softly, standing up and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. "I didn't tell you this so you could talk me out of it. I've already decided. There's no other way."

"Why... Why do you even want to save her so badly?" 

"Because she has so much to live for. All of you do." 

"And you don't?" 

All you could do was give her a sad smile. "I'd never be able to forgive myself if Jennie unnie dies before I do." 

"And you think I would forgive you if you died before I did?" Lisa retorted, staring at you determinedly. "You're so oblivious, Chae," she muttered as an afterthought. 

"What?"

"How can you not see how everyone loves you?" She let out a bitter laugh. "How can you not see that no one in this house wants to be just your friend, or your unnie, anymore?" 

"What are you talking about, Lisa?" you asked, a mix of dread and guilt starting to seep into you from her words. 

"Jennie unnie, Jisoo unnie and I, we—we love you," she admitted, unable to keep her thoughts to herself any longer. 

"I know you do," you answered, like it was obvious. (Because, really, it was.) "And I love you all, too." 

She sighed, shoulders slumping against your arms. "No, there's only one of us you love. And you're willing to freaking die for her." 

"I would do it for any of you," you said without hesitation, tears starting to pool in your eyes. "You know that, right?" 

"I know, Chaeng. You're too selfless like that. It's just that you're extra selfless now, if that's even possible, because it's her." 

You looked away, letting your arms fall to your sides. 

"I can't be like you, though," Lisa went on, her voice faltering, and you could sense an intense gaze on you as she spoke. "I want to be selfish, even for just a second." 

A thumb and forefinger tilted your chin to face her, and before you could understand what was happening, you felt a pair of soft lips gently making contact with yours. 

You shut your eyes tightly and, as she continued to kiss you, you wished with all your heart that you could love Lisa the way she wanted you to right then. 

She was right, your thoughts told you, You really were too selfless. 

-----

You found yourself spending the next few days filling your sketchbook with faces and sceneries already imprinted on to your mind. 

Sketching kept you from being selfish. It kept you from thinking twice about what you'd already set your mind on doing.  

You used sketching as an excuse to avoid Lisa. It was enough that she kept stealing glances at you whenever she could, her eyes pleading, always pleading, for you to change your decision. 

While Jisoo was concerned about the maknae line not speaking to each other ("Chaeyoung-ah, are you and Lisa fighting?" she asked worriedly, to which you said cryptically, "Just give us a few more days, unnie, it'll be over soon."), Jennie appeared to be more than a little curious about your sketches. ("Are you ever going to let anyone see what you've made?" she said, to which you answered, with a sad smile, "You'll get to see them someday.") 

You knew you would be lying, though, if you said sketching kept you from being scared. You were so, so scared your plan wouldn't work.

Yet you were also scared that it would. 

Sketching didn't keep you from your fears, but at least it kept you busy whenever the myriad of your comeback promotions didn't. 

Three days before the eighth of August and you were starting to lose your nerve. It was taking all of your remaining strength not to give in to Lisa's silent pleas. You were used to people dying around you with your knowledge, weren't you? Why should Kim Jennie be any different? 

You took a deep, shaky breath as you made your way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Your apprehension was starting to show in the way the glass shook in your trembling hands. You had to put it on the sink so you could steady yourself, leaning much of your lower body forward against the counter.

This was the sight that Jennie and Jisoo witnessed as you heard their voices float closer to where you were. They appeared to have been in deep conversation with each other before they both saw you. 

Your head was bowed, so you could only tell that Jisoo approached you first by the sound of her voice. "Chaeng, are you okay?" 

Your smile was automatic, of course. "I'm fine, unnie, I was just thirsty." 

"Here," she said, taking the glass off the sink and filling it with water from the faucet before taking your hand and pushing it towards you. 

Thankfully, your hands weren't shaking this time, but as you gulped down the water, you noticed two pairs of eyes on you. Remembering Lisa's words from the last time you properly spoke, you wondered if both of your unnies had always felt what they did towards you, and you were in fact, just too oblivious to notice. More than that, you wondered why it had to be you, because you couldn't for the life of you figure out what made you so special. 

"Why are you both looking at me like that?" 

They seemed to snap out of their own separate worlds upon hearing you address them, both mumbling incoherent excuses in an attempt to hide their embarrassment. Then the two older girls turned to each other, seemingly having a silent conversation, judging from the glares they were shooting each other. 

"Jisoo unnie," you said, deciding to try and get past the awkwardness of the situation. "Did you ever get to finish that book?" 

You saw her face light up at the question, while Jennie seemed defeated at the fact that you addressed Jisoo and not her. "I did." 

"Did the writer in the story ever get what he wanted?" 

"No, I don't think he did, even if the narrative tries to convince you otherwise."

"Oh," you breathed out, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You had to remind yourself that your story didn't have to end the same way as Jisoo's book.

"Well, I forgot what I came here for," Jennie said abruptly, clearing . She started to walk away, but paused and turned her head to the side. "Are you coming, too, Jisoo unnie? Chae?" 

Jisoo hummed in reply, while you nodded your head. 

"Good night unnie," you said upon reaching Jisoo's room, briefly brushing your hand down her upper arm. She muttered a soft "good night, girls" with the ghost of a smile as she turned the doorknob, and this time you didn't fail to notice the heat starting to creep up her cheeks before her back faced you. 

You heard a sigh coming from beside you. "Good night, Rosie," Jennie said, moving towards her own room. 

There was really no need to give yourself any more pain, you thought, as you watched her open her door. Even then, your hand shot up and grasped at Jennie's sleeve before you could stop yourself. 

"Wait." 

The older girl flinched, her hand hovering over the doorknob. It took her a few seconds to turn to you with a questioning look. 

"Be my human pillow tonight, unnie," you told her, walking to her bedroom door and opening it with an uncharacteristic boldness. 

Behind you, Jennie was trying hard to keep herself from becoming a stuttering mess. "Okay, but what about Lisa?" 

You shrugged, then climbed on to one side of Jennie's bed as if you owned it. "I don't expect to get much sleep tonight," you said nonchalantly. 

Jennie stood over you, her eyebrows shooting up and her eyes widening in shock. That was when you realized how wrong your words just sounded. 

"N-no, oh my God, I didn't mean it that way!" You covered your face with your hands, mortified. You heard a soft giggle and felt the bed shift beside you. 

"You're so cute, Rosie," Jennie mumbled, peeling your hands from your face and then holding on to them with her own. 

You noticed her lingering stare, her pink cheeks, her hands which were intertwined with yours, and all you could think about was how unfair it was that only one of you could go on living after the eighth of August. 

-----

It wasn't nearly as dramatic as all the other possible scenarios you'd been turning over in your head for the past few years.

All you knew was that, when the time came, you were ready. Accident or murder, it could only be one or the other. Either way, fate appeared intrigued by your sacrifice, and was all too happy to make things easier for you. 

There was pain, so much pain, when it happened, but when you fought hard to bring your gaze towards the top of Jennie's head, and you saw the dates shift before your tearful eyes, you were able to muster a weak smile. There was no need for you to fight anymore. 

"It w-worked... Jen," you rasped, blood dripping slowly from the corner of your mouth. 

"Rosie," she sobbed. "You lied to me." 

"I'm sor—ry." 

"I love you." 

"I know." 

She could only watch the smile freeze on your lips, and the life fade from your glassy eyes. 

-----

Chaeyoung's sketchbook was in the same place she'd left it. 

None of the other members could bear to even open her bedroom door for weeks. Chaeyoung's parents and sister were in the country for the funeral, of course, but they hadn't come to take any of her belongings yet. 

Maybe they all wanted to think that the girl was merely on vacation, and if they waited patiently, they would get to see her when she returned. (She'd probably get a little upset if she found out that people had been moving her stuff around.)

Even if, under all the layers of denial, they knew she never would. 

-----

Lisa saw her everywhere. 

On the counter, hunched over the first thing she'd picked out from their fridge. On her favorite spot on the sofa, either playing with her phone or watching some drama or other on television. In the bathroom, brushing her teeth and making way for Lisa to use the sink too.

In Lisa's own bedroom, where the side Chaeyoung had often slept in still smelled very much like her, and imagining her lying next to the younger girl was enough for her to break into tears. 

She saw Chaeyoung in her dreams, since she could no longer do so with her eyes.

There was one vivid dream in particular, where, without a word at first, Chaeyoung all but pushed a familiar object on to Lisa's hands, looking expectant. 

"Show this to everyone, okay? Promise me." 

Which was how, after waking up in the middle of the night thinking, hoping that Chaeyoung would be lying next to her (and the realization that she would never be hitting her yet again), the maknae found herself plodding towards the room she had been avoiding for almost a month. 

If she hadn't been so focused on searching for the one thing she came for, she might have paused and thought about how untouched the place was, how unreal it seemed that the room's owner was never coming back. 

Chaeyoung's sketchbook was in the same place she'd left it. Lisa felt like an intruder, leafing through something that the older girl never usually let anyone see. 

The random doodles and sceneries on the first few pages eventually gave way to more detailed drawings of her family, and various concert venues they had perfomed in, the perspective always being from the stage looking on to the audience. The faces and the lightsticks nearest the stage were given due attention by the artist, the rest appearing as a beautiful, pink ocean in the distance. 

Then, Lisa saw her own face, which looked back at her with a mischievous smile. It was very far from how she looked right then: exhausted, pale, frowning, dark shadows under her eyes. 

Her eyes wandered to some writing below the portrait. How she managed to read all of it while fresh tears clouded her vision, she didn't know.

"Thank you for being my first friend in Korea, Lalisa. You don't know how much you mean to me. Don't be sad, okay? I need you to be strong and take care of our unnies like you took care of me." 

"T​​​​​​ake care of our unnies," Chaeyoung had whispered, gently prying Lisa's hand away from hers and moving towards their manager, who was waiting at the entrance of their dorm.

"Chae, please," Lisa begged for the last time, her voice wavering, knowing all too well that, once Chaeyoung went out the door that day, she wouldn't be coming back. "Please." 

Chaeyoung turned her head briefly, her eyes glistening, lips curled up to give Lisa the last smile of hers she would ever see, and then without a word, continued walking. 

Lisa sighed as the memory faded. That was such a Chaeyoung thing to do, she thought. If it was to help someone, she would willingly walk towards certain death with a smile on her face. 

-----

Chaeyoung's sketch for Jisoo was of her, Jennie and Lisa, the arms of the oldest slung around the shoulders of the girls on either side of her, carefree expressions on all their faces. Leaves of red, orange, gold and brown were being whipped by the autumn winds around them. A note at the bottom of the page caught her eye. 

"Remember when I made you guys pose like this for me, unnie? The three of you being this happy together is what I would like the ending of my story to be. Please stay together and keep fighting." 

If Chaeyoung only knew, Jisoo thought, it was all her cute squeaks of "Fighting!", "You're so pretty, Jisoo unnie," and her random hugs, that picked the older girl up whenever she felt like letting go of everything she'd worked for (because, despite using her 4D personality to cope with hate comments and stressful schedules, she could feel herself reaching her limit more than a few times over the years). 

She didn't know how or where to get the strength from, but if Park Chaeyoung wanted her to make the other members happy, she would. 

If Chaeyoung only knew or asked, Jisoo would have done anything for her. 

-----

The sight of Chaeyoung's closed sketchbook was enough to reduce Jennie to a crying mess yet again. 

Memories kept playing in Jennie's mind incessantly, like a video player that had a broken stop button. 

The one night Chaeyoung had invaded her room instead of Lisa's, the younger girl had asked, seemingly out of nowhere, if it were possible for someone to die in another person's place. 

"I never thought about that before. I'm not sure it would work. I mean, doesn't the universe kill whoever it wants?" She paused. "But if it would work, though, would you do it?" 

Chaeyoung shifted next to her on the bed and looked past Jennie's head. "Probably not. Because we'll all live to be old and wrinkly, so I won't have to worry about it." 

Three days after that, Chaeyoung and Jennie were in the backseat of a van, with their manager beside the driver. Jennie mentally ran through their tasks for the day, which included shooting for a CF and for a magazine. 

Then, there was a sharp screeching of tires against asphalt from a direction she couldn't determine, and before she could react, she found herself being shoved by Chaeyoung to the far right of the van, and Chaeyoung herself was violently pushed forward by the impact of being hit by another vehicle. 

Jennie scrambled towards the younger girl, not caring about the shards of glass that were bloodying her forearms and knees. Not when there was a long rod-like piece of debris sticking out the center of Chaeyoung's chest, staining her white blouse with a dark red. 

"No, no! Rosie!" 

"It w-worked... Jen." 

She'd lied. Of course Chaeyoung would've chosen to die in her place, if she could. 

It took both a somber Jisoo with a comforting hand on her shoulder, and an anxious Lisa, with one hand holding the pad, to get Jennie to finally open the book and reveal the drawing that was meant for her.

When she gathered enough strength to look at the sketch, she saw herself, eyes closed, grinning at the sky. She remembered that Chaeyoung had taken a photo that looked exactly like it, and told her it was her favorite.

"If it means that you get to experience more and more moments like this," the note below the drawing read, "when you can smile at life even if it becomes unfair, I would die over and over for you. You have so much to live for, unnie, and now you can live for me, too." 

Jisoo and Lisa huddled around Jennie as she held the sketchbook close to her chest and sniffled. 

"Aish, it's not enough that the chipmunk was such a crybaby," Jisoo spoke up, with a watery laugh. "She had to turn the rest of us into crybabies too." 

"This is probably her legacy," Lisa answered. "She must be proud." 

They all managed to let out a small chuckle despite themselves. 

It would take a while, Jennie thought, looking up at the ceiling, and trying to curl her lips upwards, but if Chaeyoung believed she could do it, that was all she needed to know. 

See you later, Chaeng.