momo remembers sana.

there’s the cliche moment of momo remembering sana as the girl she could never fully reach, her somehow best friend since they were in diapers (because despite things trying to keep them apart, their families always came together), her light at the end of a tunnel. she remembers sana through private elementary schools and middle school in wealthy, foreign lands. through awkward prepubescents, and then gradual puberty. she remembers sana through first crushes and a semi-first heartbreak.

but other than that, momo remembers sana during ages.

 

---

 

1.

momo remembers her when she’s fourteen and freshly moved into her new tiny dorm room smack dab in the middle of an entirely new country.

her father had shelled out the entirety of his “rainy day funds” to send momo there when she mentioned she wanted to dance for the rest of her life, but the notion leaves a heavy burden in her stomach because they could have used that for so much more rather than on her dream for more.

her parents had called the foreign exchange program a “breath of fresh air”; a chance to get her feet wet in new water. momo likened it more to a thrill ride; slow at first, then full blown terror until finally settling at the end. and sana had called it a trip; something she was to go on, then come back to her at the end of. 

(“it’ll be fine, momoring,” sana mumbles as momo pouts again, her fingers gripping tight at the shirt in her hands. all she needs to do is fold it and put it in the suitcase, just lay it there and she’s done packing for her leave in three days.

but putting the shirt in, finishing her packing, means she’s just a step closer to leaving home for four years.

to leaving sana. 

and momo isn’t sure she can go anymore.

“but what if no one likes me? what if they think i’m weird because i still sleep with my stuffed toys and can’t speak the language that well?” momo blinks hard and hates that her eyes feel wet. she wipes at them quickly, hoping sana doesn’t notice.

but she does notice. because she’s sana and she always notices.

“momoring.” the nickname is said firmly, sana’s usual bubbly lilt hidden behind the sincerity momo’s now practically drowning in. “it’s hard not to love you. you’ll be the talk of the town, the crown jewel." 

she rearranges a pair of sweatpants and a few plush toys in momo’s suitcase, eyebrows pulled low over her nose, then,

“they’ll love you just as much as i do. then, when you come back, i’ll love you even more.”

before momo knows it, sana’s packed her entire suitcase for her and they’re walking down the street hand in hand to the ice cream shop they’ve been going to since they were just old enough to see over the counter.

sana lets momo get three scoops instead of two, and momo thinks the trip won’t be too bad as long as she can come back to sana.)

 

---

 

2.

when she’s sixteen, resident popular girl and apparent theater prodigy im nayeon, saunters up to her, infectious bunny smile on display, and asks momo if she wants to go to a movie with her after her play rehearsals that day.

momo may not remember saying yes or no indefinitely to nayeon’s proposal through all her nervous stuttering, but she does remember nayeon’s fingers shyly brushing over her own four hours later before she took her hand confidently under the dim lighting of the movies. she remembers nayeon walking her back to her dorm and telling her jokes about her friends. remembers inviting her in to maybe watch another movie, to talk and enjoy the rest of their night. remembers just barely getting past the credits of some random foreign film before nayeon is kissing her, urgently and with purpose, like she’s wanted to do this for forever, and momo believes she has. 

but still, momo remembers sana.

(“you’re telling me that the most popular girl in your fancy school likes you?”

momo’s face burns as sana shrieks over the phone, her eyes dodging having to look at the younger girl on her screen. 

“i said i think she does! or, at least, that’s what the rumors around school say.”

momo doesn’t believe the rumors, has only heard them in passing between classes. about how cute nayeon thinks she is; how attractive they’d be as a couple; how jealous everyone else would be of them. but her ears still burn hotly in embarrassment as people whisper and point around her or when she happens to catch nayeon’s eyes in their one shared elective class.

“this is big, momo. she’s popular, nice, pretty, and older—it’s like a sugar baby’s dream!” sana snickers and momo shushes her quickly, afraid her voice might carry through the too thin dorm walls. “i’m serious, go out with her. you might get a girlfriend out of it and that means your first kiss.”

momo blinks, “i’ve already had that. with you when i visited home for christmas.”

sana averts her eyes and combs her fingers through her hair. it’s a newly dyed bright blonde and it mildly reminds momo of her blonde phase a few months prior. it looks better on sana, everything always does. 

sana’s cheeks are red as she mumbles, “shut up!”

momo says nothing, but she remembers how softly sana had kissed her then, lips tasting briefly of a fruity cocktail they’d managed to swipe from the adults littered around the place. remembers how sana cradled her face and asked for permission that momo readily gave before she took her first kiss, something momo would honestly say was always sana’s to have anyway.

she remembers how one kiss had turned to many, how sana had pressed momo into her fluffy pink sheets and kissed her until they fell asleep late into the evening.)

 

---

 

3.

age nineteen comes with momo deciding that she actually likes where she is, that she can afford to stay on her own and make it, and when graduation comes three months later, she cries when she sees her parents in the crowd. they’re beaming and screaming her name as she’s handed a piece of paper that says she really has made it. she knows they’ll be sad when she tells them the news of her staying, will cry and whine and pout, but they’ll support her all the same. say the little pond back home is too small and that they’re glad she’s getting her feet wet in an ocean now.

beside them, sana smiles and cheers the loudest when momo takes another bow. her eyes are misty when their gazes meet and momo knows that sana will miss her the most, despite her acceptance of the decision months back, momo remembers.

(it’s been quiet for over fifteen minutes now and now all momo can hear is the ticking of sana’s hello kitty clock through the computer screen.

she doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to make this easier or even bearable. because sana looks like she’s about to cry and momo can’t have that.

“sana,” she starts, stops, then swallows hard. “say something.”

sana sighs and finally looks at momo. her eyes are heavy with unshed tears and momo’s just about to take it back, to say she’s going to pack everything up right away and come back home at that moment.

but sana just shakes her head and laughs this wet, wistful laugh that has momo’s chest constricting harshly.

“i’m so proud of you, momo.”

she smiles and momo can’t help but mirror it, too deep in sana to even try and deny a moment of air after she’s felt like drowning for the last fifteen minutes.

“this is big and you’re going to be just as big—i know it.”

 

---

 

4.

the night of her twenty-second birthday finds momo in nayeon’s slightly over-extravagant apartment, almost everyone she has met in the past eight years surrounding her and reveling in all that is a celebration of momo.

she likes how, despite not working out with nayeon after a relationship that lasted for a little over a year, the older is still willing and ready to bring momo in and celebrate her like they’ve known each other all their lives. she likes how, even though jihyo holds nayeon’s hand softly and calls her baby so tenderly when she gets too loud, nayeon still plants a wet kiss on momo’s cheek with a laugh and a slightly tipsy, yet still heart-achingly proud declaration of how she was the first to tell her happy birthday, and momo remembers.

(“momo!” sana breaths as the video call finally connects after the sixth try, cheeks red and hair wild atop her head. it’s 11:56 at night and momo blinks blearily at the red numbers on her alarm clock, willing them to be wrong in hopes that sana hasn’t actually disrupted her sleep knowing that she has an important performance tomorrow.

“sana,” momo whines and buries her face into her pillow because she knows why sana is calling, but it’s just too late and she’s tired, “can’t this wait until morning?”

momo hears sana huff and sarcastically mumble ‘technically it is almost morning, but whatever’, but decides to ignore it in favor of trying to figure how long it’ll take to fall asleep again.

“momo,” sana tries again, then pouts when momo just hums lazily in belated acknowledgement. 

“hey, momo?”

another hum. this time, sana chuckles because she sees the way momo’s face relaxes as she slowly starts to drift back into unconsciousness. her cheek is scrunched against her pillow and her neck is twisted awkwardly to keep facing the camera, but sana smiles all the same.

“happy birthday, momoring.”)

 

---

 

5.

a twenty-four year old momo presses her finger against the end call button again, stomach turning at the idea of being ignored.

it’s the sixth time she’s tried to call, but each and every one has gone straight to voicemail. and she doesn’t even want to count how many texts she sent that went unanswered.

she looks up and stares at the childish pink of her hometown bedroom. the walls remind her of when she was young, when she was happy and carefree, back when this was home before a group of assorted and loving dorks and an apartment with three loud and loving roommates thousands of miles away became it instead.

momo unlocks her phone again and scrolls to sana’s name once more. she hits to call and it rings once, twice, before going to voicemail again, and her heart drops when she remembers.

(“when were you planning to visit again?” momo questions distractedly as the call connects, fingers flying across the screen of her phone as she looks through different flights. “i know you wanted to take your dad’s jet, but my last gig paid good and i can splurge, so it’s my treat! there’s a flight that leaves next weekend for a good price and you can stay for about two weeks, no problem.”

“momo, i—“ 

“i can finally take you to that raccoon cafe i told you about. you know, the one chaeyoung said remind her of a bunch of mini me’s. we can feed them and everything.”

“momo, please.” 

momo blinks. finally turns to sana on her screen and feels her heart crash into her ribcage. sana looks tired, like she physically can’t hold herself together anymore, and momo wants to reach through the screen and hug her until she pops. 

“sana?” 

it's said so quietly, so un sure, that it seems to break sana because she presses a hand to to muffle a quiet whimper, eyes squeezing shut as she shakes her head.

“momo, i can’t come. i can’t do this. i’m sorry.”

she ends the call before momo can even respond.)

 

---

 

- 1.

even now, fresh at twenty-six, whenever nayeon calls momo to ask how she is, she’ll laugh and say she’s fine. will tell her all about the food she ate with her sister that day and the tv shows she caught up on with her parents. nayeon will always laugh with her, will always say she’s happy that momo is doing okay.

then, when nayeon asks when momo will be back back, because it’s been a year and you're still there, momo-ya, momo doesn’t laugh. she doesn’t tell nayeon she’s fine. she doesn’t mention that each day gets harder to book a flight because it feels like she’s leaving something behind if she goes. doesn’t tell her that her heart feels like it’s being stabbed every time it beats when she sees a picture of them, four years old and covered in mud, on top of her bookshelf.

she doesn’t tell nayeon any of that. instead, she says i don’t know and i’m sorry and always changes the subject to ask how her moving plans with jihyo are going before nayeon can ask anything else. and nayeon will always say great in such a way that momo knows she’s smiling, because nayeon loves jihyo too much to not smile when she mentions even the mundane of moving in together after years of dating.

and when nayeon asks if she’s still coming to the house warming in two months, momo knows it means are you staying?

//

momo runs into sana accidentally on the day before she finally decides it’s time to head home.

sana’s hair is a jet black and it's such a stark contrast to the dirty blonde she had when momo last saw her, that she can’t help but stare for a moment.

it suits her, momo thinks, even says as much and musters up a smile when sana mutters a quiet thank you.

it’s been a little over a year since the day sana disappeared from her life during that video call and momo feels like she’s finally breaking through a layer of ice that has been trapping her under. she’s heard rumors around town during her extended stay, about how wild child minatozaki was seen rioting around the world, but she paid it no mind because sana only does these things when she needs control. but she wants to reach out and touch her, to just hold sana’s hand like she used to throughout their youth and make sure she’s okay, back when there was a promise to always stay with each other.

but she doesn’t. because sana’s already holding another hand. her hair is brown and long, and she has a smattering of moles across her face that reminds momo of constellations. she’s pretty, very much so, and momo belatedly thinks that they do look good together.

“this is mina,” sana starts quietly, gaze anywhere but at momo, “my fianceé.”

(mina, apparently, is the sole heir of japan’s prestigious myoui industries and her family is in talks with sana’s.

momo remembers seeing the stylish name stamped on practically anything of substance whenever she roamed around: hotels, spas, airlines. it’s also stamped across the entrance to the new entertainment plaza in the next town over. 

mina, apparently, is an aspiring high class lawyer as well, though everyone believes she still might take over her family’s company in the end because she’s destined for greatness.

apparently, mina also is an avid charity endorser. a volunteer ace. a former semi-professional ballerina. an all a, top of the class valedictorian and ivy league graduate. she even owns a puppy, who has its own official instagram with over 1.4 million followers, and it’s adorable.

mina is also, apparently, a great catch.

momo is happy for sana. she is.)

 

//

 

it’s five months later when momo gets the letter for sana’s wedding in the mail.

she doesn’t expect it, and the extravagant and excruciatingly perfect details of the invitation screams myoui more than anything else. but the colorful stickers that ends an excited we can’t wait to have you! screams sana and momo feels her heart thud almost painfully until she drops the letter into an unused drawer of her rarely touched desk.

(“do you ever want to get married?” momo asks as she and sana skip out of the church hand in hand. sana’s cousin had gotten engaged and married within the span of one whirlwind of a month, and while momo remembers all the adults around them yelling about ‘too soon, too fast’, it was still a pretty wedding and what any eleven year old would dream of. 

(plus, sana made such a pretty flower girl. momo would argue no one ever threw flowers like sana did!)

“i don’t know,” sana whispers as she picks up a small daffodil from between a crack in the steps. she offers it to momo and when the older girl crinkles her nose in mock disgust, sana just sticks her tongue out and places it behind momo’s ear anyway. “my grandmother says marriage is for if you really, really, really love someone and want to spend the rest of forever with them.”

sana blinks, “and mom says if it’s good for the ‘purity’ of bloodlines—whatever that means—and notoriety of business, then that’s a great marriage, too.”

(momo also remembers hearing sana’s mom gossip with her own late into the night over expensive wine that momo knew her father couldn’t afford even after six paychecks (but that sana’s family could get no problem) about how she wasn’t sure this marriage wasn’t going to last because ‘shotgun weddings of this variety never do last in this day and age’)

momo knows that she’s known sana since she was in diapers, and she knows that she wants to spend the rest of her life knowing sana. even at eleven, momo knows she loves sana and that sana loves her. they’re best friends after all, so it’s inevitable that they’ll go the long haul.

“i’ll marry you,” momo declares, smiles when sana stops and stares wide-eyed.

“i promise.”)

 

//

 

sana calls momo for the first time in over a year a month before her wedding is set to happen.

momo doesn’t answer the first time. or the second. or third. it isn’t until sana’s calling for the tenth time in three minutes that momo finally answers. 

she’s breathless when she picks up, like she’s just finished running a marathon, and momo would be hard pressed to try and deny it with how hard her heart is beating now. she swallows against a dry throat when she hears sana’s surprised, shallow breath.

“sana?”

sana’s breath stutters, then breaks, and momo suddenly feels home.

“my parents set this up when it was announced that myoui industries was expanding. apparently they’re going, like, global global. all over. and they want the minatozaki name attached to it.”

sana says it all in one breath, tripping over her tongue with every other word, and momo finds her mind reeling as she tries to process.

she understands the intricacies of big business. she remembers all the talks of how fortunate she was that the daughter of the great minatozaki clan was her best friend; how happy she should be that their families were close because it always meant they’d be well off, too.

(“that’s not true!” sana yells, cheeks red and glare sharp as she stares down at a group of over-confident juniors. “momo isn’t a charity case, and her family isn’t either. she’s my best friend, so leave her alone!”)

sana sighs, and momo hears the shift in the atmosphere around them.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you. i should have told you. you deserved to know more than anyone else. but instead i just—i ran like a coward because i didn’t know how to tell you anything.”

now that, momo doesn’t understand. they don’t keep secrets, they don’t just not tell each other everything. she remembers every gory detail of any and every story sana has ever told, and she’s sure if sana was asked the same, she’d remember everything that momo has ever said. so why was it so hard then? what makes it so hard now?

“tell me now, whatever you couldn’t back then. tell me now.”

sana in a sharp breath and momo says nothing. just waits and waits and hopes.

“i can’t say why yet, momoring,” sana finally whispers across the line, and momo rolls her eyes because that’s such a cop out. sana can say it, she just doesn’t want to and momo still doesn’t understand.

“yes you can. it’s not hard, just—“ 

“i can’t, momo! i can’t ruin this for them again!”

(“it’s not over, sana,” momo mumbles into a mess of blonde hair. sana heaves against her chest and momo feels her heart constrict because the sound is so guttural and unlike any sound sana should ever make.

“it is—they’ll never forgive me because i ruined everything for them just because i couldn’t control myself in public.”

momo doesn’t get it. it was just a kiss and they did it all the time. when sana bought momo a new bag, she kissed her in thanks. when momo told sana about her dance being picked up for an actual choreography, they kissed in congratulations. it's what they do. so what if someone saw them kiss when momo presented sana with tickets to the movie she'd been dying to see? who cares what they, or anyone else, thinks?

“just talk to them? it’s just your parents, they’ll understand.”

sana sighs and shakes her head. her voice is thick when she finally mutters, “i have to do everything they ask. i can’t ruin everything they built up. i can’t do that to them because of this.”

momo shakes her head because she doesn’t understand and sana isn’t making it any easier. she says as much and her chest tightens when sana lets out a watery and soft sigh.

“you won’t get it, momo. it’s not for you to get.”) 

momo clenches her jaw. she hates the memory of sana’s cold rejection, of sana pretending everything they built up beyond the best friends title over the years didn’t exist anymore out of fear.

she hates that she’s never been enough for the life sana is supposed to live.

“so that’s why you’re with mina now? because your parents set it up? this is some what? eighteenth century arranged marriage?” sana hums in acknowledgement and momo hates the resignation and acceptance she hears in sana’s tone. “so what about me, sana? hell, forget me—what about you?”

sana laughs quietly and momo just knows it’s purposely pitched higher to seem nonchalant. then, “what about me, momoring? i have to do this.”

“do you love her?”

there’s a beat of silence. momo waits. hopes.

“i don’t—she’s nice. mina is nice, and funny, and she treats me well. it'll be good with her.”

“that’s not what i asked. despite the whole arranged thing, do you actually love her? or feel anything?”

sana sighs and momo’s stomach turns because it means something. “i have to do this, momo. you wouldn’t understand.” she sighs again, “i’m sorry.”

the line clicks before momo can even say anything else.

 

//

 

despite not talking since their disastrous last phone call, momo still attends the wedding.

she feels it’s ironic, really. that the place she first truly learned of what forever could be with a person, with sana, is the same place where she is losing the person she dreamed of some kind of forever with.

she remembers holding sana’s hand in these same pews after she performed her flower girl duties years ago. remembers how she had promised to love sana forever on the front steps before she even knew what loving someone truly was. remembers promising to marry sana and sana’s bright smile.

but now, sana isn’t smiling at her. she’s smiling at myoui mina.

their hands are interlaced as they stand at the altar. they both wear bright smiles and momo thinks, again, that they still look good together despite it all.

(if momo tried hard enough, she could imagine this was her wedding.)

but when mina says i do in such a way that even momo can feel the genuine emotion lacing her tone, her heart seizes because it suddenly feels real.

and when sana says i do, momo feels her heart shatter because it is real.

(“you have to stop drinking,” nayeon mutters over the phone, voice quiet across the line. and momo almost feels bad because it isn’t fair of her to call nayeon with her problems when the older girl is halfway across the globe. she’d taken a fancy internship at momo’s insistence despite saying she’d forgo in favor of attending the wedding with her today, and now momo wishes she’d allow her because she can’t keep looking at them.

looking at how mina glows as she parades sana around like a fool in love. looking at how sana preens at the compliments she receives on the reception, on her gown, on her accomplishments, on her wife .

momo finishes off her vodka soda and signals for another.

“momo, please.” nayeon’s voice is more stern, a sudden hard edge cutting at each syllable as she speaks. “drinking yourself stupid isn’t going to help anything. it’s not going to make sana come back to you, we both know that.”

momo swallows hard and ignores how burns with the sudden urge to cry. she glances back, sees how sana’s fingers curl across mina’s elbow as she pulls her to dance, and quickly turns her gaze back to the bar top.

“then maybe she shouldn’t come back.”)

-

when momo leaves the reception early, she ignores sana’s worried voice following behind her until she’s tucked away into the back of a cab and far from the church.

when momo’s phone lights up with sana’s name for the seventeenth time as she’s finally walking into her parents' home, she turns her phone off and starts packing for the morning. 

when her father pulls momo aside just before she enters the terminal and tells her that it’ll all be okay again after some time, she cries.

 

//

 

weirdly enough, seeing myoui mina after eight months since her dramatic leave from her wedding isn’t as awkward as momo would have assumed so. 

sure, when she walked out of the dance studio after her afternoon class only to find mina perched against the ledge outside, she was surprised. sure, when mina offered to buy her lunch in exchange to talk, momo was shocked. and sure, every time the sun catches the ring on mina’s finger just so to the point that it slightly blinds momo, her heart clenches.

but it still isn’t awkward.

because while momo wants to believe she has every right in the world to hate mina, she doesn’t. because mina may have everything momo was told she needed in life (read: money, power, and influence) and actually has what she wants (read: minatozaki sana’s unwavering loyalty), mina isn’t a bad person.

she buys momo’s favorite dessert that she can only get on special occasions despite it costing more than what she makes in a good weeks pay. she throws out opinions when momo mentions a particular move she hasn’t yet mastered and offers to practice with her before she leaves back to japan next week. she stops and pets every dog they pass on the way back to momo’s apartment. she offers to help a random stranger take her bags in from her car. she even makes grumpy old mister park smile with a simple hello and a smile when they finally arrive at momo’s building, something momo herself can’t even do.

so it’s definitely hard to hate mina.

“so you wanted to talk?” momo finally asks as she ushers the two of them inside. her apartment is nothing compared to what she knows mina is used to living in, but the look on the younger’s face that’s matched with the way her eyes seem to glow when she notices the pictures of all her friends scattered across momo’s walls and the pile of shoes haphazardly pushed into the corner, tells her that mina likes it just enough because it seems like a home rather than just a place to sleep in.

mina hums as she settles against momo’s couch, and it’s then that momo finally notices the stiffness to her shoulders that had grown over their time spent together. how the crease across mina’s brow and the small and subtle twist to her lips tells more than any words could, and momo feels her heart drop.

“i wanted to discuss your—i don’t know what to call it, really. relationship? history? future?—with my wife.”

wife. momo winces.

mina says it in such a way, like she knows that it hurts momo and she wishes that it didn’t, but that it still needs to be acknowledged. momo knows mina holds no malice behind her words, doesn’t say it just to hurt momo or rub it in, but it still does and momo glances away from searching eyes.

“i know you love her, momo. you wish it were you instead of me.”

momo shrugs and picks at a loose thread against her couch. it’s the same thread that’s been slowly loosening itself since sana’s last visit years ago, when one of her many expensive bracelets had accidentally caught the material and wouldn’t let go until there was a harsh tug. it’s the only thing that momo still owns that has a touch a sana left to it, and she doesn’t know why this of all things is what she left.

“but i love her, too. you may not believe it because of how it happened, but i do love her.” mina sighs and it’s then that momo finally looks at her again, sees the stress and discomfort this whole conversation is having on her as well, and she swallows down a childish retort of how she loved sana first.

“and i know she wasn’t in love with me at first, that it may have been you. but it's been over a year now, and sometimes, just sometimes, she looks at me in a way that i think she does love me, too. she calls me sweetheart and kisses my cheek before i leave for work in the morning and when i come back at night, and makes my favorite cookies when i feel stressed, and holds my hand when she somehow talks me into something i've never done before. and i think there can be something there when all it adds up.” mina at her lips and twists the ring on her finger, “but then this guilty look crosses over her face sometimes, like she’s doing something wrong. and suddenly i’m just mina again, her father’s business partners daughter who she happens to have a home with.”

it’s mina who looks away this time, eyes finding the lone picture of momo and sana hung on the wall that she brought home with her. it’s them in the mud again, and momo sees a small smile on the younger girls lips. she wants to hate that mina is so genuine, so nice, despite it all, but she can’t. mina is the same as her, loving someone so distant.

“she’s sad without you, i know she is. and whether i love her or not, i know she still feels strongly for you in some capacity. and i want her happy. so please,” mina insists as she stands, straightening out the crease in her skirt, “give her a chance and just talk with her. i’ll respect anything and make sure it doesn’t disrupt the business.”

mina turns toward the door and momo jolts, finally springing into action and reaching for her wrist.

“mina?” the younger girl turns with a hum, eyebrow quirked and a small, sad smile on her lips. like she already knows, like she’s already accepted something that hasn’t happened yet. “why are you doing this? you could just be together, be happy.”

“like i said, i want sana happy. right now, she’s just content.” mina shakes her wrist until momo’s grip is loose enough for her to properly grasp momo’s hand, “and i know she’ll be happy if you’re back in her life.”

she squeezes momo’s hand then drops it as she heads to the door. it’s only just opening and she’s barely out when she stops, gaze toward momo once more.

“and now, i’ve properly met the person who most of her best memories are about, so i know where her happiness begins.”

and then she’s gone with a genuine, all gum smile thrown momo’s way.

momo’s eyes settle on her hand, where mina had gently slipped a business card into her palm. her name and number is professionally stamped across it and there’s an uncharacteristic smiley face next to an i’m in your corner now scribbled underneath it.

momo feels her heart pulse.