Alya's hands tremble, after she got up from bed, when she saw two photographs--instant camera films--on her bedside table.

One picture shows Jinyoung with outstretched hand, looking intently at her as she mirrored his gaze. The other was captured when she reached out for Jinyoung's cup on his left side, she was leaning on him, arm was stretched and face was looking up at him. Their eyes were talking with more intensity from the previous photo.

She massages her temple as she drops the pictures back on the table. Who took these photos? And who put them here? In my room.

“Mom, did you go to my room last night?” she asks during breakfast.

“No.”

When asked why, she just shakes her head.

Her mind is still filled with questions of how's, who’s, and why's when she's waiting for Jinyoung outside their gate.

She's staring at the two photographs again, trying to convince herself that there's nothing going on between them. But the more her eyes rest on the pictures, the harder it becomes to make herself believe what she wants to.

She is startled by Jinyoung's voice not long after. She hastily hides the pictures in her pocket. If Jinyoung has noticed it, he doesn't ask about it.

She immediately asks about his night as soon as they start walking. Jinyoung shares about the book, My Sweet Orange Tree, he read last night. It was authored by the person who's considered as the best in Brazil.

He says he likes those kind of books, like “The Little Prince”, because he could feel the pure and childlike emotions that bring him back to his childhood.

She can stare at him all day just talking. Fondness is evident in his eyes--they're sparkling. He's also smiling as he speaks. She can't help but smile, too, as she listens and nods.

“I hope as we all grow old, we will live our lives while trying to retain the pureness in our hearts. Like Zeze, the character in that book.”

“You really like anything about youth, about childhood,” Alya notes. “No wonder you've been bringing the old days back lately.”

“Hm?” He glances at her. “Like what?”

“The race in the rain and ice cream eating contest?”

“That was three months ago and we weren't racing. We were running together. I was holding your hand,” he states matter-of-factly.

Alya averts her eyes and gulps. “The strawberry dipped in chocolate? We haven't done that in a while.” She bites her lip and thinks more. “The bread and chocolate jam we ate last week? Strolling around the village. Playing at the park,” she chuckles as she remembers how they spent the rest of their afternoon, playing like the little kids they were, at the park last Sunday.

“I remember you wanted to become a pre-school teacher. You always used to say that you want to read them stories,” she peeps at him with a wide smile. “Did it change?”

Jinyoung thinks for awhile before he shrugs. “I still do,” he beams softly at her, “Maybe the child in me will always love that thought. But I have a feeling that I won't become one.”

“Because of your dad? Will you become a performer? An actor? Or will you take over the company?

“Not really because of him. Just," he shrugs again, "an actor, maybe?”

Alya nods. She believes in him--in what he can do. She has seen him dance and act. He's a crackerjack. He's good at singing, too.

“Then,” she slants her head, “read me that book. I'll listen, Teacher Nyoung.” She laughs.

Jinyoung chortles. “At the base?”

“At the base.”

Alya finds herself examining the photo again during class. The one where their eyes were confabulating; faces were few inches apart.

“What's that?” Youngjae chirps and Alya almost jumped from her seat.

Her seatmate grabs it from her hand before she could hide it. Youngjae's eyebrows raise.

“Who took this? Jaebum? Did he make you guys his subject yesterday?”

“Jaebum?” Alya's forehead creases. They know that her brother is in New York so Jaebum must be out of the picture.

“Isn't he the reason why you didn't come with us?”

“No,” her eyelids flutter. “I--I mean, yes.” She gulps. She's not used to lying. Especially to Youngjae, Mark and Jaebum.

She lets out a soft breath in relief, trying to be subtle, when both of their phones vibrated. Must be their group chat.

It was Jackson. He sent a screenshot of Mark's instagram post. It was a photo of a guy wearing a black bucket hat--the hat that she wants to burn so bad. The face of the guy can't be seen because he was looking down, and the hat and its shadow were covering it, but she knows fully well who it was--her brother. In front of him were table and plastic coffee cups.

So he's really here.

Their phones keep buzzing and chat bubbles keep popping up. Bambam asks them to cut class and go to where Jaebum and Mark are. Yugyeom readily agrees while Youngjae is hesitant because they might get caught. Jackson likes the idea, too. He says it's exciting. And there goes Jinyoung being a killjoy.

Behave, kids.

She pouts and squints her eyes when another bubble appears.

Shall we go during lunch break?

She suppresses a laugh then shakes her head. She reads Yugyeom's chat that shows ‘Sometimes you're such a B.I. too’

Best Influence ;)

Some heads turn to Youngjae when he suddenly laughed at Jinyoung's remark. Alya grabs his phone swiftly and slides it in her pocket before their math teacher could come near them and see what they're holding.

They are told to stand outside until the period ends which they gladly, although not showing it, obey. Alya gives Youngjae his phone back when they are finally outside. They continue talking to the group.

Few minutes later, they hear Bambam's voice trying to contain his laugh. The younger was on his way to the washroom (Alya and Youngjae's classroom is along the way) when he saw them. Now his phone is aimed at them and he sends the photo he took to their group.

Alya rolls her eyes when her phone vibrates. She sees a notification from their group chat and suddenly a new notification comes. It's from Jinyoung. He's asking what happened.

“Let's not get into trouble again,” Youngjae pouts during lunch.

“Well, for the record, it wasn't us who got into trouble.” Bambam sniggers before he gives Yugyeom a high-five.

“Let's not cut class. We can see Jaebum after.”

Jackson whines at Jinyoung's statement. “But it was only them who got into--” his sentence is cut off when he meets Jinyoung's eyes. “Yeah, that's right. Cutting classes is bad, you, kids. No cutting classes, okay?”

Youngjae’s cackle suffuses the area again.

They all agree to meet at their usual bench after class so they can all see Jaebum together. But Jinyoung has another thing in mind.

“Youngjae, Jackson was looking for you,” Jinyoung peeps at their classroom door. His bag is strapped around his right shoulder, right hand gripping on it while the other is in the pocket of his uniform pants, leaning his left arm on the door frame. It hasn't even been a minute yet since the bell rang.

“Did he say why?”

He shrugs. “Just go to him. He's probably in the fencing room now.” His eyes follow the younger as he exits their room. He turns his head back to check on Alya but she's already beside him. “Let's go.”

Alya creases her forehead. “Aren't we supposed to--” she points at her back where the way to the bench is.

“Forget it,” his hand from his pocket finds its way to the brunette's shoulder, “you'll see your brother tonight anyway.”

Alya wants to reason out. She wants to ask why he keeps on making her go with him alone. Or rather, why does he always want them to spend time together alone. But she'd rather choose the former. It sounds more like she's just being forced to come, just so he can have a company, rather than him wanting to be alone with her.

But what was that ‘I want to be the only one' about? Part of her mind quizzes.

Stop reading beyond the line, the other part retorts.

The base--their self-proclaimed territory when they were kids--didn't change a lot. The house near it is still abandoned. They doubt that someone will live there again. If someone ever will, maybe they'd demolish the old structure first. The big tree that provides shade to them is still there. It just aged like them, but it's still the same. There are old toys and some of their other stuff scattered on the ground. Some are leaning on the roots. The bench and the table cut from an old trunk, that Jinyoung's uncle has made for them, are still in place, too.

They talk about it for a couple of minutes--recalling their memories and laughing at them. Jinyoung is the first one to sit. He taps the space on his right, motioning Alya to sit.

The book that Jinyoung takes out has a small orange silhouette of a child and a tree beside the title. She situates her arms on the table to rest her head on them as Jinyoung starts reading.

It's a book delivering the topics of love, humanity and the origin of tragedy, through a boy named Zeze, and the communication with human and nature with tranquil atmosphere.

Zeze was frightened when the tree before him spoke. He always thought he could talk to objects.

“Are you speaking right now?” Jinyoung reads, voice shifts to distinguish who's speaking in the book.

“‘You are listening to my words, right?’ Tree said and smiled. I almost sprinted out of my backyard, screaming away. But my curiosity hold me back”

Alya almost chuckled. Her lips curve as her eyes stay darted on Jinyoung's. She feels relaxed as the other keeps on reading. His soothing voice gives her tranquility. It's therapeutic. She thinks that if her best friend would read her a bedtime story, she'd probably fall asleep easily. She wonders why they are only doing this now. She could listen to his voice while staring at him all day.

‘Where are you speaking from?’

‘A tree talks with its whole body. I speak with my leaves, branches and my roots. Do you want to try hearing it? Then put your ear against me. You will hear my heartbeat.’

Alya averts his gaze from Jinyoung to the tree behind him. It had been with them throughout their childhood. Her heart sinks when she thinks about what the tree might have felt when they stopped coming during middle school. Now, they're in high school and Jinyoung will soon graduate while she stays for another year.

She wonders, what if the tree can also speak and hear them? What if it has seen things both she and Jinyoung hadn't? If she'll put her ear against it, will she hear its heartbeat, too? Or if she'll lean on Jinyoung, will she hear his heart beating fast and loud like her heart does?

Jinyoung pauses and tilts his head. He pins his gaze on the brunette's eyes. The latter becomes lost.

Eyes are windows to the soul. Alya suddenly remembers the saying. People say that eyes are the most sincere part of the face--they don't lie. And the way his eyes always speak to hers--the way they convey what Jinyoung feels for her--makes her shiver.

She almost jolted when Jinyoung encloses her hands with his. He gives her a small smile as he turns back to his book.

Her breathing quickens. “Jireongie,” she manages to say when is almost dry. She straightens up and takes a gulp.

Jinyoung feels a thump on his chest. His lips part and eyes shift from the book to nowhere in particular--he's just focused on that familiar name. Did he hear her right?

It's been ages since he last heard that name. He hasn't told anyone that he loves hearing it--his nickname when he was a child. It makes him feel nostalgic.

When he slowly turns to her, her eyes flutter. She doesn't know why she called him by that name again but she thinks it feels nice. Maybe she wants answer. Maybe she wants to know why he always holds her hand. Maybe she wants to hear from his lips what his eyes are trying to say. Maybe she wants to know if he feels the same way she does.

But wait! What does she feel towards him anyway? She panics.

“Junior!" her voice almost cracked.

The soft expression on Jinyoung's face is suddenly replaced with a threatening look. He hates it. When he was two, whenever people call his father, he'd always think they were calling him because they have the same name. So ‘Junior’ happened. But he never liked it. Thankfully, Jiroengie came to his rescue.

“Say the first one,” he demands.

She averts her eyes and tries to pull her hand away from his hold. He tightens it.

“Say it.”

She takes a deep breath and stares at him for a couple of seconds. “Jireongie.”

He doesn't budge. She stays still, too. Neither of them looks away. They stay like that for almost half a minute before Jinyoung’s gaze drops and lands on her lips. He swallows and looks back at her eyes then he nods and turns to the book. He needs to get ahold of himself.

The air is thick around them. Her head feels light. She doesn't know why he made her say that name again. But what she knows, although denying it a little, is her heart slumps when he untied his hand from hers.