“Do you know what the happiest love story is?”

Mina looked up from the book she was reading to stare at the girl sitting across from her in the library. She had to consciously stop herself from focusing too much on the cute mole on her youthful face, or the bright sparkle in her eyes, or the way her flush lips turn up in that curious and tantalizing smile of hers. Mina was used to this; her best friend’s random, enlightening questions about life and everything else; her own repression of feelings that she still didn’t know what to make of.

“I don’t know Chaeyoung, but failing Ms. Park’s math quiz for the nth time in a row will be the saddest story ever if you keep losing your focus,” Mina said.

“But Minariiii,” the girl whined, drawing out that endearing nickname Mina loved so much. “My brain needs to rest. We’ve been at it for hours and the words are starting to look like Wingdings in Microsoft Word. I need a break.”

“No,” Mina said, turning back to her book, hiding a smile behind the pages.

“Come on Minariiiiiii let’s have a breaaaaak,” Chaeyoung pleaded, leaning forward and unleashing the full force of her puppy eyes and childish pout. 

“Nope.” Mina kept the book fully in front of her face now. She could barely stop herself from grinning like an idiot.

Now Chaeyoung was making noises like a girl robbed of her tiger plushie, each sound striking a hard blow against Mina’s resolve. The coup de grace fell when Chaeyoung placed a hand over Mina’s and squeezed. The older girl felt a searing warmth envelop her heart, quickly followed by hammering loud enough that she was sure Chaeyoung heard it. 

Why was she like this? For the longest time she’d been convinced that people were inherently bad. Why wouldn’t she? Everyone she’d let into her life hurt her one way or the other, in various ways, regardless of good intentions. She retreated into the solace of her own mind, letting winter envelop her gaze and words. She shut out everyone but Jihyo, her honorary godmother, and Nayeon, her honorary sister, both of whom never expected anything yet gave everything to help Mina get through the sorrow.

She gained a reputation as the Black Swan of the school, beautiful but unapproachable, like a diamond inside a glass box. Then from out of nowhere happiness and the glimpse of a brighter future crashed through that glass box and onto her in the middle of the hallway, apologizing profusely and promising to make it up to her any way she could. And the whirlwind named Son Chaeyoung made good on that promise, every day, with smiles and compliments and favors and hugs, upending every expectation Mina had about people not named Im Nayeon and Park Jihyo. She must’ve been Elsa in her past life, because the cold never bothered her, not even at its sharpest and most cruel. Chaeyoung was the sun to her ice, the rainbow to her storm, and the spring to her winter.

It took a year, and when Mina finally broke beneath Chaeyoung’s irresistible force she promised to repay the girl in kind. She cooked meals for her, made sure she got her requirements in order, and tutored her in the subjects she struggled with, like that time in the library when Chaeyoung popped that question to distract them both from studying. More importantly, for the first time in a long, long while, she smiled.

Was she sure of her feelings? No. Was she afraid? Yes. Time healed all wounds but some took longer than others, and some still rang with the pang of the past. Did she want to be with Chaeyoung? Yes. As what? Parts of her had different answers. Her mind wanted them to remain the best of friends. Her… hormones wanted to throw the girl on the nearest bed (read: any flat surface) and ravish every luscious bit of her body from dusk until dawn. But her heart? Mina didn’t want to hear its answer just yet. She wanted to enjoy what she had with Chaeyoung, without any risk, without any chance of hurting one another. She wanted to enjoy the simple things, like talking about sappy love stories and controlling a rapidly rising heartbeat while trying her best to wrangle a feisty tiger into studying.

Mina’s thoughts snapped back to the present, with Chaeyoung holding her hand, the unspoken request of a break shining in her pouty lips. Mina wouldn’t admit it then, but she was and always would be weak to Chaeyoung’s lips, one way or another. “Alright fine,” Mina frowned, though a fluff of affection blossomed inside at the sight of Chaeyoung’s growing smile. “Let’s go out and have some snacks. What do you want to eat?”

“Kimchi fried rice!” Chaeyoung answered immediately.

Mina chuckled. It was a bit of a stretch to call kimchi fried rice a snack, but this was Chaeyoung we’re talking about. So they went to the closest (and cheapest) place in the campus. Ms. Park — Jihyo-unnie to them both — started an initiative where students could learn to plan, start, and run a successful business. The Bunny Cafe was the first success of the initiative, and it was headed by the buck-toothed, hyperactive and flirtatious Nayeon, backed up by her polar and savage opposite, Tzuyu (or Chewie, as Chaeyoung liked to call her), a foreign exchange student from Taiwan.

“Hey there, welcome to the Bunny Cafe! Table for two?” Nayeon greeted them when they entered with a herald of wind chimes. The place itself was a simple affair, with wooden walls decorated with intricate sketches of bunnies in a field, circular tables and chairs that usually fitted up to four people, and a glass counter-top that held an assortment of cakes and pastries. Behind the counter Tzuyu worked diligently, going over ten orders all at once without breaking a sweat, working the coffee machine and stove with the grace and confidence of a maestro.

“Yes please. And no need to be so uptight with us, Nayeon-unnie. We’re like sisters anyway,” Mina said, letting Nayeon lead them to a booth near the windows.

“I have a business to run and a reputation to keep, Minaring. I’ll pester you to death when I’m done with my shift, not before. That said,” Nayeon glanced to the younger girl, rabbit-toothed knowing smile growing on that cheeky face. She leaned towards Mina and whispered, “I’m happy to see you happy like this.”

She left before Mina could say a word in reply. Gratitude swelled in her heart for the sister who looked out for her all these years, and she wished that Nayeon would one day come across the happiness she deserved. Then Chaeyoung attached herself to Mina’s arm, staring at the retreating form of the waitress, before looking back at Mina. In her eyes the older girl saw a surprising mix— curiosity, irritation… Possessiveness? Jealousy?

It resonated with something inside Mina, harmonizing with her heartbeat. Before she could think of it any longer Nayeon returned, two menus in hand. Chaeyoung let go of Mina’s arm, taking her seat by the table. Mina sat down as well, forcing herself to calm down. I’m a penguin. I am chill. I am cool. I am a penguin…

“What will you be having?” Nayeon asked, notepad and pen in hand ready to take their order.

“The usual, Nayeon-unnie,” Mina said, before she looked to Chaeyoung and asked, “Do you want anything else, Chaeyoungie?”

The younger girl, who had an impassive expression up until this point, lit up at the nickname. “No, Minari. I’m okay with what you ordered,” she said. Nayeon noticed this, and shot another knowing smile at Mina. Mina, to her credit, ignored the bunny girl’s insinuations, saying, “There you go. Also can I have extra ketchup on mine?”

“You always do, Minaring. So that’ll be two orders of kimchi fried rice, one with extra ketchup, and two orders of iced tea. Be back in a bit!”

Nayeon went back to the counter and relayed the orders to Tzuyu, and then waited on other customers. Meanwhile, Mina was looking out the window, glancing at the dog passing by, the cars driving down the road, and the lovely overcast sky, anything but at Chaeyoung, whose gaze Mina felt in its intensity, sending light jitters down her skin.

“Do you want to hear the happiest love story now, Minari?” Chaeyoung asked.

Mina turned back to the girl and found herself lost in her eyes. Thankfully it only took her a moment to snap herself back into reality. “Are you sure this isn’t something you say in a drama somewhere?” Mina teased. “I know how much you cried binge watching Descendants of the Sun in one weekend.”

“Oh my gosh, that drama hit all the right buttons,” Chaeyoung sighed. “But no no no, my story isn’t going to be about that. In fact, it’s related to mathematics. This might actually help me remember all those nasty lessons and what not.”

“Really now? Mathematics? Alright, you got me curious. What’s this story about?”

“We’ll get to that in time, my dear Minari,” Chaeyoung said, and Mina didn’t fail to catch the endearment. That was a new development, one that she both liked and feared at the same time. “But first, I want to tell you about the saddest love stories in mathematics.”

“Awww why? Why can’t we go straight to the happy one?”

“Because,” Chaeyoung lowered her voice, her eyes softening. “You never get the happy endings without going through a little suffering first.”

Mina was struck silent. For the first time, Mina was seeing a different side of the happy, peppy, energetic girl. Today was a day of firsts; first time to see jealousy in Chaeyoung’s eyes, first time to hear sadness in her voice that could only come from somewhere in the past, first time to feel the sudden need to kiss that sadness away. A thousand words of comfort crowded in , begging to be let out. But Mina didn’t know which ones would work and which would unintentionally make it worse. So she only nodded, and Chaeyoung took this as a prompt to continue.

“The first sad story is the one about parallel lines. These are lines that never meet, even if they run into infinity in both directions. And I find that really sad.”

“How come?”

“Well, if you think about it… they never get to meet at all,” Chaeyoung said, tracing two parallel lines in the air with her fingers. "I’m sure they can see each other like two people across the street, but they never get a chance to talk, to get to know each other. They never even get to touch.” 

Chaeyoung kept tracing the lines, never letting her fingers touch. “It’s kinda like unrequited love, like when you’re in a cafe, and the person you really like is sitting on the other end, and you want to go over and sit with her and talk to her and get closer to her. But she’s already sitting with someone and they’re holding hands and you can do nothing but sip on your drink and watch them and keep your heart from breaking into a million pieces.”

Mina suddenly became aware that she was gripping her hands tight. The most unnerving thing about it wasn’t that she could relate to every bit of Chaeyoung’s story, but that every bit of it seemed lifted straight out of her memories. In a flash she was there again, three years ago, sitting three tables down to the right, matcha latte in hand and headphones drowning out every sound but the Flight of the Bumblebee playing on her phone. She wanted to drown in apathy and numbness and she couldn’t, because it was the first time her heart awakened to feelings for someone, and it was all new and foreign and fierce and painful.

The first time she saw Momo was in a joint practice class between the ballet club and the street dance crew. Her heart was set ablaze at the powerful moves and winding curves of the studio’s best dancer, not to mention the sweat glistening off her toned abs and an expression that could kill with its edged sensuality. Mina was young then, innocent in the ways of love, but she knew beauty when she saw it, and she knew attraction when she felt it. 

But she was cautious by nature, overly so, and she didn’t know what to do with all of these, so she did nothing. She was content with watching the girl thrive in her element, taking the rhythm and weaving a tapestry of waves and sharp moves— admiring from afar, where it was safe, where she wouldn’t get hurt.

Only Momo found a partner in Dahyun, a fellow member of the crew, and Mina was hurt all the same. Devastated. Each day of the joint practice stoked the slow burn of her pain, her unrequited love. She sipped on her drink, hoping the cold liquid would put out the burning hurt. She listened to the Flight of the Bumblebee, hoping she could fly away like the bumblebee, away from the sorrow, away from Momo. But she couldn’t, so she finished her drink and left the cafe and her first love behind, feeling the ice slowly encasing her heart.

“Minari? Helloooo? Earth to penguin,” Chaeyoung spoke, concern clear in her eyes. She was waving her hand in front of Mina’s blank face.

“Oh. Hm? Sorry, yeah. I agree,” Mina said, quickly putting on a smile to deflate Chaeyoung’s worries. “Are you sure you didn’t take this from somewhere in the internet? I’m pretty sure I came across this in Jihyo’s social feed,” Mina teased.

Chaeyoung pouted and the chill of the past was blown away. “Come on, Minariiiiii. You gotta give me some credit. I came up with all of that on my own!”

“Are you suuuure?”

“Yes! I had plenty of time to think about it during our study sessions at the library.”

“So you're telling me that you weren’t paying attention to my lessons?”

“Uhhhh…”

Chaeyoung gulped, looking exactly like a tiger cub who was caught doing wrong. Mina pressed her advantage, leaning forward with a sultry smile on her lips. The cub visibly recoiled, guilt written all over those shifty eyes. Something awakened in Mina— a hunger to see more of Cub Chaeyoung, a desire to devour those lips. “Guilty as charged then,” Mina said, chuckling. “When we get back to the library I’ll make absolutely sure that you’re focused on your studies.”

Strangely enough, pink was spreading across Chaeyoung’s cheeks and a haze had overtaken her eyes, something that showed more than Mina expected, something that dared Mina to do more. “I look forward to it,” Chaeyoung said softly, nervousness smoothly melting into a soft smile. It taunted, coerced, and tempted. Had Nayeon been ten seconds late in delivering their iced teas, Mina was sure she’d do something she’d regret.

“Here are your drinks! Your kimchi fried rice will be coming out in a few minutes, so why don’t you two use these to cool down, hm?” Nayeon winked, before going back to the counter. Mina shot Nayeon’s retreating form a withering glare, but she did feel hot even in a cafe with the AC on at full blast. Both of them quickly took sips of the refreshing drink, letting the sweet coldness douse whatever it was that had sparked inside of their bodies.

“Anyway, on with the next story. This one is also sad,” Chaeyoung started. “I remember you teaching me about asymptotes, and while I’m not yet convinced how it’ll help me get a job in the future, I both love and hate their love story.”

“How can asymptotes have a love story?” Mina asked, simply to humor Chaeyoung. “It’s a line with a curve that approaches zero as either x or y axis tends to infinity.”

“That’s why you’re the smartest girl in school, Minari! I’m so proud and honored that you’re my bestest best friend,” Chaeyoung grinned. Mina felt grateful for the compliments, ignoring the slight jab at her chest from hearing that last part.

“But don’t you see?” Chaeyoung continued. “That right there is a tragic love story. No matter how far the line goes, it will never meet with the axis. Sure from afar, you might think that they’re finally together. But in reality, they’re far beyond what friends are, but they can never be lovers. Neither has the courage to cross that line, so they hover around one another, trying to keep the status quo, to keep themselves from hurting.”

Chaeyoung motioned with her fingers, one tracing a horizontal line, the other tracing a curve that came close, close, closer, but never touching. "It’s like the friendzone of mathematics. It’s when you’re in a bar, drinking your guts out with your closest person, and then your faces inch closer and closer. All of a sudden you sober up, feeling the burden of a thousand consequences if you ever cross the line, and you just up and walk out the door, never looking back.”

Mina smelled the tobacco smoke just as her memories plunged her to two years ago, right at the Square Up, most popular of all the bars she used to frequent, and this was the classy one with jazz in the background and a moustachioed man from England mixing the drinks. It was there that she first met Jeongyeon, a professional musician and one of Jihyo’s friends. She usually played the saxophone during the weeknights, but sometimes keyed the piano or crooned the mic if she felt like it. That night she was singing a song about loving too much. Coupled with one too many glasses of sparkling lemon, Mina sang along, soft enough not to disturb the other patrons, but loud enough to catch Jeongyeon’s attention.

Mina didn’t have time to go to the bar every night, but whenever Jeongyeon would sing, she always made time. For months it went on like that, singing along to Jeongyeon, drinking together after hours, and taking about life and love and all the pains that went with it. Eventually Mina spilled to Jeongyeon all about her first love and first heartbreak. She let it all out, barring nothing back, egged on by the soothing music and Jeongyeon’s intent gaze. And the girl with the boyish cut always listened, always nodded along, always lent her shoulder whenever Mina couldn’t stop the tears from breaking out.

It all led to genuine affection, mixed with a dollop of confusion. Mina was grateful for the musician’s constant care and understanding. Soon enough she began to forget about the sorrow and the pain of the past, and she found herself looking forward to what the future would bring. Against reason and experience, she thought about Jeongyeon and how nice it would be to hold her hand in the street, or kiss her on the dance floor. 

Everything came to a head when one night, Jeongyeon came in a black dress bedecked with sequins that made her shimmer and sparkle like a starry night. Mina’s breath, and confusion, were taken away. She wasn’t aware of her actions until she was sitting next to Jeongyeon, shoulders touching, with her face a hand’s breadth away from the other’s lips. The air between them was charged with electricity, tingling all the nerves in Mina’s body. And the moment held on and on and on. Until reality came crashing down and Mina was left feeling cool air on her lips and an emptiness where Jeongyeon used to be.

They were still close friends. They agreed to forget about that night. But a wall had come up between them— immovable, impenetrable, unseen. Mina still came to hear Jeongyeon sing. Jeongyeon still sat with her, listened to Mina’s troubles, and offered her advice. And the ice seeped deeper and deeper into her heart.

“Your kimchi fried rice, made special by our awesome chef Tzuyu!” Nayeon announced, loud enough for the entire cafe to hear. While the bunny waitress placed the plates of red-tinged rice with a sunny side up egg on their table (Mina’s had extra swirls of ketchup drawn like a smiley face on hers), the other patrons were clapping at the stoic girl still working behind the counter, who was already immune to Nayeon’s antics. To Mina’s surprise, Nayeon placed a bottle of ketchup on the table. It wasn’t anything special except for the fact that it was a new bottle, seal broken but unused, and it was made by Mina’s favorite brand.

“Thought you might need it,” Nayeon whispered, leaving them with a wink.

Mina smiled, shaking herself free from the tobacco smoke and smooth jazz. She took the ketchup and gracefully slathered her whole plate with the stuff. “Wow, Chaengie. I’m actually impressed. You’re really good at storytelling,” Mina said, and the cub smiled full of pride. “Maybe I should change my tutoring strategy with you. Maybe you’ll learn more if I have you associate lessons with stories, like quadratic equations as a fantasy epic, or differentials as a mystery novel. What do you think?”

Chaeyoung fidgeted, looking down at her meal like it was the most interesting thing around. “W-Well, that wouldn’t be bad, but I only have so much creative juice in my head, and not enough time to recharge. I’m gonna need more and more of these breaks if you want to go with that.”

Clever girl. “Alright, if that’s what you want,” Mina said, shrugging. She meant to say the opposite, but seeing Chaeyoung grin at the thought of more snack dates was worth it.

Dates.

Date.

Is that what this was?

Somehow Mina didn’t mind the idea at all. Somehow she fancied the idea of ending the date in the comfort of a dim room, with piano playing the background, punctuated by loving whispers and soft gasps. And suddenly she wanted to drown the thought down with a huge chunk of ketchup-filled fried rice. She was wolfing down the entire thing like a starved kid and she only stopped when she felt something soft and warm on her arm. Chaeyoung was trying to stifle her laughter. Mina realized what she was doing and nearly died of embarrassment, gently placing the spoon down on the plate like she hadn’t been acting like a savage.

“You know what’s cool?” Chaeyoung said, still chuckling. “You’re clearly downing the thing like there’s no tomorrow and yet you still move like a graceful princess.”

Mina perked up at that. Chaeyoung using that kind of metaphor. Another first. It dawned on Chaeyoung, too, since she looked away, furious blush burning on her face. Mina smiled, saying, “Did you just say that I’m a princess?”

“N-No! I said you’re like a princess. There’s a difference.”

“Am I like a beautiful princess then?”

“No! I mean yes! I mean I don’t know what I’m saying sorry for saying weird stuff ohmygosh I am rambling but I really think you’re beautiful and like a princess and no you didn’t hear that from me and—“

“Thank you, Chaeyoung,” Mina said, warmth radiating off her smile. “That’s very sweet of you. But I still won’t go easy on tutoring you.”

“G-Good. I don’t expect you to,” Chaeyoung said, crossing her arms with a huff.

Each of them took a few more bites of their dishes, stealing glances at one another, smiling like idiots whenever they caught the other, and letting their gazes linger on and on and on. Chaeyoung coughed, bringing Mina back to the cafe again, and said, “Only one more to go before we get to the good part. I hope I still haven’t lost my captive audience.”

Mina clapped a little, whooping softly to show that Chaeyoung still held her captive. “Great!” the cub grinned. “This last sad story is simpler compared to the one about the asymptotes. It’s also the most tragic of them all. Do you know about intersection, Minari?”

“Of course. It’s when two straight lines cross at a point. You could say that the Cartesian plane is a prime example of intersection, with the y-axis crossing through the x-axis.”

“Or like this!” Chaeyoung crossed her fingers and them at Mina, as if she was hurling a rosary at a succubus. “Get thee away from her, demon of the nerds! You’re making my Minari all nerdy and boring!”

Mina swatted it away with a laugh. “Stop that! You know if you don’t feel like the tutoring sessions are helping, you can always tell me and we can stop.”

She meant it as a tease, but she couldn’t help but giggle at the effect it had on Chaeyoung. The cub’s expression was torn between devastation and desperation. She swiftly hid her hands under the table, shaking her head furiously. “I was only joking, Minariiiii. If not for your tutoring these past few months, I would’ve been held back a year. My mom would kill me!”

“But you said you’re always bored with me, and don’t think I don’t see you nodding off during our lessons, or staring absentmindedly at a random spot. Sometimes I wonder just how much of what I teach actually get through to you.”

“Wait a minute,” Chaeyoung said, regarding Mina with narrow eyes. “Did I hear you right? Did you just say you were checking me out during our sessions?”

The penguin blinked. “E-Ehh?”

The tiger grinned. “You were, weren’t you?”

The swan deadpanned. “If you don’t get on with your story, I’ll give you three times the homework when we get back to the library.”

The cub recoiled. “Alright, alright sheesh I was only joking— please don’t give me more work I beg you."

Mina nodded, and Chaeyoung cleared . “So where was I? Right, the intersection. Like you said, it happens when two lines cross at a point. But if you consider it, they only cross at a point, and only that point, and they go on their way without ever crossing again.”

“Meaning,” Mina picked up, with handheld spoon mixing the rice half-heartedly, eyes already lost in the past. “If those lines were people, at some point they meet, and it was as if everything was right in the world. They fall, hard, and burn for each other. Words are said. Promises are made. And then in the morning after your paths diverge. Words are forgotten. Promises are broken. They drift apart, and crash one way or another. Some get off better than others. Some are made better because of it. Some just… want to stop the pain no matter what. So they kill part of themselves, the part that allows them to feel in order to survive, because otherwise going on living would hurt too much.”

Mina promised to herself she would never revisit that particular memory. Emotions were leaving shallow cuts over her heart, but she couldn’t stop that. Her name kept popping up in Mina's thoughts, but she couldn’t block it out. She was the reason why Mina’s heart froze over like the eternal winters of Antartica. She used to be Mina’s pillar, a beacon in a foreign land, and a steadfast friend in times of trouble. Mina loved her. Mina hated her, and for a long time she did. Even now when she’d convince herself to forgive she still felt the wounds as fresh as it was the day she left. Because she was afraid. Because she had more to lose. Because she truly loved Mina and that was why she had to let her go.

Mina never forgot. To forget was to pretend it never happened. But it did, and her name would forever be etched on her heart of ice.

紗夏.

사나.

She felt a hand on hers and instinctively turned her hand around to grasp it, entwining fingers, seeking warmth and comfort. Mina looked up to meet Chaeyoung’s eyes, and in her gaze Mina felt the world slip away. The clink of silverware and Nayeon’s cheerful greeting of a new customer faded until there was only her and Chaeyoung, sitting in a booth, half-eaten kimchi fried rice on their table, and unspoken feelings flowing through where skin met skin.

“I think,” Chaeyoung spoke, her words soft as dandelions on the spring breeze. “It’s time to tell you the happiest love story of all, the tale of the tiger and the penguin.”

Mina chuckled, wiping away a stray tear that betrayed her inner turmoil. “Animals? I thought the happiest love story would be about mathematics?”

“I changed my mind,” Chaeyoung said, visibly gulping. “I think… I think you need to hear this one.”

It took Chaeyoung nearly two minutes of throat clearing and fidgeting before she started the story, during which they never let go of each other’s hands, too needy of each other’s warmth to do so. “There was once a tiger, mighty and strong and tall of stature, who prowled the forest. She was its undisputed protector, driving away other beasts that seek to do harm to its inhabitants. All animals, big or small, were under her protection. Rabbit, crocodile, squirrel, unicorn, dinosaur, duck, hamster; all manner of creatures were in her care.

“One day, the tiger saw a beautiful penguin waddling in the forest, unheeding of her surroundings. She’s new, the tiger thought, so she went to introduce herself. Only the haughty penguin didn’t care much for the tiger and ignored her, walking further into the jungle. Undeterred, the tiger decided to keep watch over the swan from a distance. It was a thankless job, but the tiger wanted to do it. She wanted to make sure that all the animals in the forest were safe from the beasts outside.

“Little did the tiger know that the penguin needed protection from the animals in the forest themselves. And by the time she realized that, it was too late. She saw how the penguin gazed sorrowfully at the duck who swam with the dinosaur. She watched as the penguin and crocodile parted ways after a night of singing. She gazed at the penguin waddle into the frozen north, far away from the squirrel who’d hurt her terribly."

Chaeyoung shifted her eyes from Mina and stared at the window outside. Her voice was starting to tremble, and Mina could feel it in their joined hands. “The tiger couldn’t take it anymore, and finally acted. She caught up to the grieving penguin just as she was about to step onto the ice from which there was no return. She did everything she could to convince the penguin to walk back with her to the forest, where it was warm and safe. Even as the cold radiated from the penguin, freezing the ground around them, the tiger bore it all, determined to make the swan happy again. She wrapped the penguin in furs, fought back any others who wanted to harm her, and kept close to her at all times, giving her warmth and closeness and affection.

“And finally,” Chaeyoung turned back to Mina, face set in determination. “As they arrived back at the edge of the forest, the tiger saw the penguin's smile, and it was the most beautiful and precious thing in the world. She wants to protect that smile no matter what, but only if the penguin will agree to having her as a full-time friend, bodyguard, confidant, and— and…”

“Yes,” Mina cut in, tears now freely flowing down her porcelain cheeks, making her eyes sparkle like diamonds in the sunrise. “Yes, the penguin would very much like that. But…” Mina decided to finally do away with the denial and confusion, and let her true feelings show. “I think you meant to add ‘girl’ in front of friend. If so, my answer is still yes."

It took a moment for Mina’s words to sink in, and when it did Chaeyoung’s face lit up brighter than a supernova. Her cute, fanged smile was in full view, and she started crying, voice hitching every now and then. Before the light of a million mornings, Mina’s heart melted. Pieces of the past that hovered in her peripheral vision came into full view; the far table in the Bunny Cafe, the other side of the bar, and even the last row in the amphitheatre. It all clicked into place, leaving Mina wondering about one thing.

“Where have you been all my life?”

Chaeyoung managed to calm herself down enough to answer, with all the confidence and conviction of a girl full of love, “I’ve been by your side all this time.”

“Alright, alright, enough with the waterworks. My customers might think we’re putting on a show,” Nayeon, ever the understanding friend, interrupted their moment with a box of table napkins. She tried to hide it with her patented bunny smile, but Mina could see Nayeon's eyes glisten and her bottom lip quiver. Behind her, Mina saw the other patrons clapping at their little drama in the booth. Some were even whooping and whistling. Tzuyu stopped what she was doing and gave them a small smile, a rarity in its own right.

Mina felt something soft on her cheeks, and turned to see Chaeyoung wiping away her tears with a napkin. Even now, the tiger was taking care of the swan. All this time, the tiger loved the swan and wished only for her happiness. And what did the swan have to give in return?

After finishing their kimchi fried rice, they waved goodbye to Nayeon, Tzuyu, and the cheering patrons, and made their way back to the library. They walked in comfortable silence, content in letting their entwined fingers communicate what they felt about each other. Once they were back at the library, Mina pulled Chaeyoung to a far corner of the almanac section, a place Mina knew no one ever visited unless the deadline for the thesis defense was tomorrow, or people wanted to do things without disturbing the other students.

Mina surprised herself with the sudden aggressiveness. She walked up to Chaeyoung until the cub was pressed against the bookshelves, hunger burning in her eyes. It had always been there, from the moment Chaeyoung began thawing her frozen heart, growing and growing until Mina could no longer hold it back. It didn’t help that Mina could see that same hunger reflected in Chaeyoung’s haze-filled eyes. She got closer and closer and closer until their faces were inches apart, hot breaths mingling in the charged space between their parted lips.

“I have a story for you, Chaeyoungie,” Mina said, her voice low and velvety soft. “Do you know what rays are?”

“Tell me all about it, Minari,” Chaeyoung said, a light purr running beneath her words.

“Rays are lines with one endpoint that go on indefinitely in one direction,” Mina trailed a finger across Chaeyoung’s arm, up until she tangled her hand in the cub’s, rewarding her with a light moan and shivering skin.

“You’re soooo nerdy. How am I attracted to you? Doesn’t matter, I am,” Chaeyoung grinned, her other hand twisting around Mina’s waist.

Mina gasped as she felt fingers trace circles over her waist. “So maybe the two of us are rays, radiating outwards from the same point. Maybe we go in the same direction. Maybe we don’t. But no matter how far we go, we can always come back to that same point.”

She gripped Chaeyoung’s hand tighter. The cub grinned, looking up at Mina in all of her rosy beauty. “Hmmmm, I think there’s more than one point we can go back to,” she said, ever so slightly pulling Mina closer.

Mina brought her face down until only a bare whisper of wind separated them two. And without waiting for Chaeyoung to reply, Mina closed the space with a kiss. It was electric, sunlight, cinnamon buns fresh off the oven; soft, sweet, and full of love. For a few seconds they held, neither moving, relishing every intimate moment and emotion of their first kiss. Arms wound tighter, bodies pressed closer, and they pulled away, faces flush with pink, drunk smiles, drunk with each other’s love. And Mina finally felt peace, contentment, and safety in the arms of the tiger that had been with her from the beginning.

The next kiss wasn’t so innocent. This time Mina pulled Chaeyoung in, capturing her lips in a kiss filled with primal hunger. She bit the cub’s bottom lip, begging for entrance, while her hand went and squeezed Chaeyoung’s soft body. The tiger growled and met Mina’s desire with her own, parting her lips farther and letting their tongues indulge in each other’s taste.

For the next few minutes they enjoyed a private lesson about each other that expressed everything, hid nothing, and promised love now until the end of time. Every tutoring session that followed ended with after school credit that motivated Chaeyoung to do more and go farther. Mina was at times gentle, at times dominating, white and black sides expressing her love for the cub. And the little quiet moments they spend together, during lunch, sitting on a bench beneath the park, walking home after class, talking about life and love and each other, growing closer and closer with each passing day.

The tiger and swan walked together, two lines radiating from a single point, hands held and hearts connected. Mina finally had her happy mathematics story. If only the same could be said for others.

Nayeon hung her apron up on the rack, biting back another wave of tears. She was in the employee’s room at the back of the cafe, wrapping up her shift for the day. She saw them again earlier, love clear in their eyes, their hands, their smiles. Nayeon was happy for Mina; for too long the girl suffered the cruel realities of relationships. She deserved to be happy. She deserved someone who made sure she was happy no matter what. She deserved someone who loved her with every beat of their heart. Nayeon only wished she was that someone.

As part of the school’s theatre club, Nayeon was a great actress. She waited on them, gushed about their latest love stories, and teased them both with risqué talk. Her mask was impenetrable. Only when they left did Nayeon take a break, letting their new part-timer Jennie take over until she could collect her shattered emotions. And for the rest of the day she carried on as the best friend and sister who felt nothing but gratitude that Mina had finally found that someone in Chaeyoung.

Changing back into casual clothing, Nayeon indulged in a little selfishness. She was the one who held Mina tight while she cried her heart out over Momo. She talked Mina into patching things up with Jeongyeon. She confronted that snake in the airport with righteous fury, until Mina convinced her to drop it and let the snake go. In every tragedy in her life Nayeon was at her side, a shoulder to cry on, a pillar to hold onto, and a voice of confidence and hope. Along the way Nayeon found herself falling for the broken swan. No, if she was honest, it started long before that, when she caught the swan singing in an empty amphitheatre when she came back to grab something she forgot.

The hell, Im Nayeon. What are you doing? This isn’t the first time you got hurt loving someone. You’re strong woman. You got through that heartbreak. You’ll get through this.

So she said to herself, but there was no stopping the tears running hot over her cheeks. She fell on her knees, body wracked with sobs, letting the chill of the floor seep into her slowly, slowly, making its way to her heart. But then warmth was draped across her back, driving away the cold. Strong, slim arms wound around and held her in a tight embrace. Nayeon nearly jumped away in surprise, but the voice rooted her on the spot.

“Stay, unnie.”

Tzuyu?

The impassive cook of the Bunny Cafe, who never spared Nayeon her savage remarks and judgemental stares, held her tenderly, chin propped on Nayeon’s shoulder and cheek pressed against Nayeon’s own. “You can cry, if you want. I’ll be here for you, as I’ve always been.”

Those words broke Nayeon and she cried, and cried, and cried, unheeding of the ugliness of tears and grief-filled sobs, forcing out every hurt and pain from her heart. Through it all Tzuyu held her, rubbing her arms in comfort, whispering words of encouragement and warmth. In time the tears dried up, the sobs quieted, and Nayeon became still. Tzuyu slowly stood up, pulling Nayeon along, and patted away the dirt from the older girl’s clothes. She turned Nayeon around, cupping her face and raising it up so their eyes met.

Nayeon saw something in there. Tzuyu was beautiful— one of the most beautiful women Nayeon met, but it wasn’t the reason why Nayeon’s heart began beating again to a hopeful rhythm. “I will be with you, unnie,” Tzuyu said, without reservation, honest like a sledgehammer. “I will stay by your side until you can stand again on your own. And even then, if you’ll allow me, I’ll continue standing by you. Because I hate seeing you sad. I want to see you happy. So I’ll do everything to help you be happy again.”

Her Korean was halting, sometimes unsure of the words, but Tzuyu got her message across. Nayeon’s face was marred with tears and red eyes, but her buck-toothed smile was no less brilliant. “Thank you, Tzuyu. Really, thank you. I’ll take you up on your offer. I hope you won't regret it later.”

“I won’t, unnie. I’m sure I won’t,” Tzuyu said, her stoic face breaking into a smile unrivalled by the most precious of gemstones. Nayeon realized three things in that moment; one, it was the first time she saw Tzuyu smile like that; two, she didn’t know Tzuyu could become more beautiful than she already was, and;

Three, she wanted to see that warm smile every minute, every hour, every day.

The story continues in:

~ Moonlight Princess ~

"You know I can’t. I can’t lie. You can’t lie. Especially not to yourself."