With Suji being bubbly all the time, it would usually slip my mind that if she wanted to, she could ask piercing questions—questions I would rather not confront. She asked it with nonchalance, as if that was how the conversation was supposed to flow. There was a long pause, and despite my admiration for her patience, it frustrated me a little. It was one of the topics I wanted to set aside, but with her giving me the impression that we had all the time in the world to unpack my response, it was difficult.

   There was this side of me that wanted to spill everything, as well, because keeping everything in weighed my heart down, and it suffocated me. Still, it was more comfortable for me to keep on suppressing things.

   “That’s a really tough question,” I admitted.

   “It’s not something you can’t answer, though,” she said.

   “Yeah. Do you know what the highlight of my day is?”

   “What is it?”

   “Sleeping,” I looked at her. “If that says something, then that’s my answer.”

   “Hm,” Suji tapped the coaster beneath her mug. “Have you ever thought of the possibility that your habits may need some time to adjust to your preferences?”

   “What do you mean?”

   “For instance, you may think it’s sleeping now, but think of instances which actually helped in making your heart feel lighter.”

   In that moment, there was a sudden click. A snap! that seemed to put things into perspective.

   “This is why I don’t want to talk to you sometimes,” I said. “You make me realize things.”

   “C’est la vie,” she sighed. “Am I right?”

   I just smirked.

   “What’s holding you back from letting yourself enjoy the things you actually like, anyway?” Suji began. “You always give me the impression that you stop yourself from being happy.”

   I clasped my hands together, and in a flash, their faces appeared in front of me. We were young, then, with genuine smiles, never worrying about tomorrow. Reality was far from that, though. I’ve realized that the older I get, the more difficult it is to maintain my wonder. Somehow, the magic of sunsets and the security of someone being a constant in my life simply wouldn’t remain.

   “You don’t miss the things you don’t feel,” I muttered. “It’s as simple as that.”

   “You…” her voice trailed off. With a smile, she turned to me and cocked her head to a side. The golden sunlight streamed through her windows, soaking everything in nostalgic shades of sepia. Suji’s eyes were steady, and if it weren’t for the subtle, rising and falling of her shoulders, it would seem like I was staring at a photograph. “You don’t really know just how loved you are, do you?”

///

   It was already dark when I arrived in our neighborhood. The shops bustled with life and laughter, and the smell of hot food wafted in the air, along with the subtle taste of alcohol. There were many people, but they kept to themselves. It was alienating at times, to think that this was the norm to some.

   I was already a few steps away from the entrance when I stopped dead on my tracks. I swear it felt like a movie. Dahyun was there, standing beneath a flickering lamppost, and before her stood a man much taller than her, wearing a green beret which matched his army attire. He also had a duffel bag with him. They were talking in hushed voices, and from where I stood, it was obvious that Dahyun was already tearing up. The man had an accommodating and comforting smile. After a few seconds, he spread his arms, and as if it was the most natural thing in the world, she took a step closer and leaned against his chest. He embraced her tightly, and Dahyun’s shoulders began to quiver. He rested his chin on the top of her head, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. She started sobbing, and the man couldn’t help but laugh—out of sheer helplessness, perhaps, because of emotions bursting here and there.

   It’s the subtlest things which can tell so much.

   It wasn’t just a usual reunion.

   Once again, I felt like I was looking at something I shouldn’t be seeing. I sighed, and retreated, while convincing myself that I was craving for ramen  when in truth, I wanted green tea and cake.

   And that was when I remembered.

   Sleeping wasn’t the highlight of my day anymore.

///

   It was past midnight when I received a message from Dahyun.

   Are you awake? I have so much to tell you today.

   I read that single line. Over and over again. I bit my lower lip, and smiled.

   Okay. I’ll be there. I have so much to tell you, as well.

   What greeted me was the smell of coffee and pastry, yet again, along with the comforting sound of Sundae’s tail thumping against the floor. While we lived in the same apartment complex with identical rooms, hers felt more spacious while simultaneously being full. Perhaps, one’s home reflects the condition of their heart.

   Dahyun’s heart was big and full.

   She was on the couch and the food was already set on the table. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, and she had also changed clothes.

   “How important is it, that it can’t wait until tomorrow?” I teased.

   She simply grinned at me. “Maybe it’s not the things I’ll say that matters, but the person I’m about to talk to. Sit.”

   I sat down beside her, and she offered me a mug of coffee, to which I gratefully accepted.

   “I’ve told you before, haven’t I?” she began. “That I grew up in a good neighborhood.”

   I nodded.

   “Kim Sunggyu’s finally home,” she said. “Do you remember him? It’s already been two years. When I saw him earlier, I couldn’t believe it. Two years…how could time fly by in a blink of an eye?”

   “I remember him,” I replied. “Along with Nam Woohyun.”

   Dahyun smiled, and nodded.

   “Why didn’t he stay for longer?”

   “He has to go see his family. And Woohyun, as well.”

   “Where is Woohyun?”

   “I’ll visit him tomorrow. Namjoon, do you want to come with me?”

   With clarity and fondness, Dahyun began to tell me stories, bringing these strangers’ names into life. The more I listened to her, the more their faces and personalities became engraved in my mind. It came to a point where I, myself, became curious. And I began to have thoughts. Certain thoughts. Wondering if things would turn out differently, had I ended up in their neighborhood, and if Dahyun’s twin hadn’t died.

   Would I then live with normalcy and the boldness to allow myself to feel deeply?

   Sunggyu had a way of showing he cared. When Woohyun was the clingy one who always seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve, Sunggyu would rarely speak. But Dahyun knew he was always present.

   “It’s always in the simple things,” she said. “A spray in my backpack when I said I sprained my ankle during practice, or him lending his coat when it’s cold outside. It’s funny, really. Sunggyu and Woohyun are like water and oil. Still, they get along so well.”

   She told me more things, and she spoke so vividly that I could smell the laundry soap and the baked cookies she described. I felt the thickness of the mud, along with its earthy taste when she mentioned that time they all went to catch eels. If I closed my eyes and allowed the sleepiness of the night take me away, it wouldn’t be difficult to believe that Sunggyu and Woohyun were also there with us.

   Her words spilled and formed her vibrant childhood before me. From the time she recognized her love for painting, to the quiet moment of realization that there were other people much better than her.

   And all I did was absorb everything. Willingly. Enthusiastically. Dahyun's iridescence drew me closer to her, and the more I got to know her, the more I wanted to open up. From the depths of my heart I saw a young version of myself, finally reaching out towards the light.

   “Dahyun, let me tell you about Suji.”

///

   We boarded the train heading towards the outskirts of the city. Sundae was in a pet bag, and it kept itself busy with its chew toy.

   “We’ll visit Woohyun first,” she said. “And then we’ll visit my parents.”

   “But—”

   “They want you there,” she cut in, and that was that.

   When we alighted, she led me to a flower shop first, where she bought a single sunflower with a yellow bow tied around its stem. Sundae was already in a leash, and it would pause every now and again to smell the grass growing from the concrete pavement.

   The area was unfamiliar to me, so I kept quiet and followed her lead. We stopped in front of a columbarium. I held the sunflower for Dahyun while she put Sundae back in the bag.

   We climbed a set of stairs. The hallway was quiet. We turned right, and entered a room filled with urns behind glasses.

   With ease, she taped the sunflower in place, and signaled me to come closer. There was a portrait of Woohyun in black and white, staring at the camera deeply with a slight—yet warm—smile. There were Polaroid pictures of him, too. Most were taken candidly.

   “Sunggyu already visited,” Dahyun pointed out, as she nodded at a badge of the South Korean flag. “They were supposed to enlist together, you know?”

   I didn’t reply. There was nothing I could say, after all.

   “But you know, there is something that perplexes me. I tend to recognize Woohyun’s visitors, but there’s always this certain person who leaves photographs of the sky. Doesn’t it make you wonder?”

   “Yeah.”

   She smiled. “Namjoon, shall we go?”

///

   The disparity between us only became more apparent when I entered her neighborhood. It was a pristine area, with groomed front yards and huge, detached houses. We passed by a playpark, and the shops were neatly lined up by the road.

   “It doesn’t feel like Seoul,” I remarked. “Has it always been like this?”

   Dahyun nodded. “It’s a pretty quiet place to live in. People move in and they rarely move out.”

   “I see.”

   We walked up a slope overlooking the neighborhood, only to stop in front of a house at the very end of the street. It had an arched gateway decorated with red and white roses. The fences were covered in bushes, too. The yard was unsurprisingly wide, with well-trimmed grass and flowerbeds. Dahyun pressed a button. There was a momentary click, followed by the smaller gate to the right creaking open.

   When I stepped into their property, I began to think about my situation. What was an orphan doing with a rich girl in the first place? It wasn’t like I naturally belonged here and yet…how did I allow myself to be associated with her?

   “Thank you, Namjoon,” Dahyun began, while glancing at me. “For accepting my invitation. I was a little nervous because I thought you’d turn me down.”

   “Why would I…” but I trailed off, and merely nodded. Why bother asking her, when I knew the answer myself?