When Sana came back from the forest, her face was unreadable, but it was clear that she was in pain. Jihyo had come back shortly before, her face pinched with worry. She’d immediately set about to preparing dinner, namely Sana’s favourite dishes. 

“Don’t ask her about anything,” Jihyo had said as she chopped the vegetables. Clearly, she knew a bit more about what had just happened. 

It wasn’t said, but Momo knew: Dahyun wasn’t going to have dinner with them today. 

Sana sat now on the sofa, hugging her knees. The mask was beginning to crack. What was underneath was painful to see. 

Nayeon and Momo exchanged looks. They went to either side of the girl, wrapping their arms around her. Sana leaned her head on Momo’s shoulder. 

They didn’t say anything, just listened to Mina and Jeongyeon debating what dessert to make. Mina wanted the European dish of Kaiserschmarrn—shredded pancakes, while Jeongyeon just wanted cake. They ended up doing both when Tzuyu said she hadn’t been there when they had the pancakes. That had been a trip they'd had a few years ago. 

Momo didn’t know what to say. Sana was crying silently in her arms, but she knew that making her talk about it would just make things worse. She had heard the conversation yesterday, heard the careful confession when the moon had become the subject. She’d been so glad that Sana was opening up to Dahyun, but what had happened this time? Did it have something to do with what Jennie had said? As bad as some things could get with Sana’s relationships, Momo didn’t think that Dahyun would push Sana away because of that. Dahyun was pushing all of them away, but her reasons weren’t based on dating habits or messy breakups. 

“Want something to drink?” Nayeon asked. 

Sana smiled slightly. Then she nodded. 

In a matter of seconds, Chaeyoung was in front of them, three blood bags in hand. 

“If you spill on my sofa, I get movie rights.” 

Sana chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.” Her eyes glowed a soft purple as she drank. Then she closed them. “Do you think our eyes are connected to emotions?” Another chuckle, but it lacked any mirth. “I would ask her, but,” she trailed off. Her nose scrunched up. Momo tightened her grip on her. “She didn’t want me to tell her I love her.” 

In any other circumstance, on any other day, those three words would've been the best thing Momo had ever heard. They’d all wondered when Sana would finally find someone she loved. That time was now, but it was coming to an end. That fact hurt Momo as much as Dahyun leaving did. It made her pause too. Why didn’t she feel jealous about that? 

No one said anything. When Momo looked at Mina and Chaeyoung, they were doing that thing where they silently communicate with each other. Both wore frowns. 

Nayeon had also picked up on it. “What is it?”

The two looked conflicted. 

“You talked to her about this?” Sana said. She didn't sound suspicious, only tired. 

“Yeah,” Chaeyoung pursed her lips, “when you were all at school. She said she couldn’t say what she told us to you.”

“But not that you couldn’t tell us,” Nayeon replied. 

Mina nodded. “Whatever happens, she’s never going to take any of our emotions. Especially not the positive ones. I think that’s her rule.” 

“But she’ll take your fear,” Sana retorted. “Even if it hurts.”

Their old leader spoke slowly, but with an added weight to her words. “This isn’t something you should ask her about, or be really careful with it. It was painful enough for her to even mention it.” Mina paused. “Remember when Dahyun told us she tried to make Teresa strong enough to escape?”

How could Momo forget? When she thought of that day, she saw Dahyun’s pain etched across every inch of her face. She remembered how it had filled her eyes. They'd been a deep blue and black. Those years in captivity had broken her. If she had put herself back together or not, Momo didn’t know. She didn’t know, because she had no idea what Dahyun was like before captivity. None of them did.

Mina didn’t continue. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes held a familiar strain.

Chaeyoung took over, but not before she laced their fingers together. “She said she gave up her emotions to do that. Including her love and happiness.” 

Momo felt Sana stiffen. Her own chest ached. 

At the very least, they kept familial love, so they were never truly empty. 

Dahyun had said that when she’d talked about her parents and how they’d taken out their love for each other. To study it. Momo had been scared at the time that Dahyun would do the same. Now they knew she had and still would, but not for a research project. She’d do it to save another. She'd saved Teresa. And if she needed to, she'd do the same for them. 

“The way she said it felt,” Mina took a deep breath, “remembering her family is warped. She knows she loved them, but she,” a tear rolled down her cheek, “she doesn’t feel that way.”

“The witch had happiness on her,” Sana said. “She made me destroy it.” A small gasp. “She could've taken it back. Why didn’t she take it back?” The girl pulled her knees closer to her. Guilt took over her features. 

Dahyun had said she’d tell them why she'd destroyed those emotions. But she'd been in so much pain afterwards that they’d all forgotten about it. 

“Maybe she thought they were tracking it?” Chaeyoung suggested. “If she took it, they might always be able to find her.” 

“Or it was poisoned,” Momo said. “She talked about that one fairy poisoning her with fear. It could've been the same thing here. It wasn’t something she’d risk.” Not even for the chance of feeling that happiness and love again. That was why Dahyun was leaving. Even if she was happy here, even if she loved them as much as they did her, she wouldn’t risk their safety to keep that love. Even if it hurt them. Even if it hurt her. It scared Momo how much Dahyun was willing to sacrifice. How far she’d go.

“But how does that happen?” Nayeon asked. “I don’t get it. She said they’d taken her emotions, but she still had love and happiness to give to Teresa afterwards. Are those emotions that can’t be taken away?” 

“Maybe they’re only given or taken by the person who felt them,” Tzuyu said. “Like her sadness where she’s the only one who can take it away. I’m sure Teresa wouldn’t have wanted Dahyun to give it up, but she wasn’t capable of giving it back when she got them. She said they drained their emotions again, and that time they got those emotions. Maybe they figured something out in that time.” 

“But she killed them,” Jeongyeon frowned, “how did they get the rest? Wouldn’t she have taken the emotions back? I know she takes them out a lot, but I don’t think she would've left them there at the time.” 

“Unless she couldn’t have.” The youngest looked up to the ceiling, her brow furrowed. “She said she killed them all, but she’s still running. What if the rest were coming at that time? What if,” she trailed off. “I need to check something.” With that, Tzuyu left the room. 

Momo was tempted to go after her, but the scene reminded her so much of Dahyun that she didn’t. Tzuyu loved them as much as they did her, but she was like Mina in that she also valued her time alone. 

Sana didn’t say anything more after that. Neither did the rest. It was taken as a cue to continue with what they were doing. Except for Nayeon and Momo. They stayed where they were. Momo wanted to say something, but she was pretty sure Sana was at her limit. Nayeon didn't say anything either. 

The girl between them had closed her eyes. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything, huh?” 

“Why do you think that?” Nayeon asked. Her eyes flickered to Momo’s, a silent question in them. 

Momo shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to address it. She also didn’t feel the need to talk about it. Even though they needed to have that conversation, it wasn't the right time. Not when Sana was in this state. 

Sana took a deep breath and let it out. The grip she had on her legs relaxed. “She’s leaving. Shouldn’t I have just kept my mouth shut? She did say it'd hurt more when you said it out loud.” Another breath. “And she was right.” 

“You would have regretted it for a long time.” Momo said. Then she looked down at her. “Unless you do now?”

The response was immediate. “No.”

She smiled at that. “Good.” 

“You’re happy about that?” Sana looked up at her, eyes still glassy. 

Nayeon squeezed Sana’s hand, then she left to join Jeongyeon in the kitchen. It was a conversation she thought should stay between the two of them. She was probably right.  

“I’ve waited a while for you to pursue your feelings for someone,” Momo replied. “And actually admit you had them.” 

“But,” she blinked a few times, “you have feelings for her.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s like what you feel.” It was the truth. Momo cared for Dahyun, more than she wanted to, given the circumstances. She also couldn’t deny that there were deeper feelings involved, but they weren’t clear at all to her. Not even when she’d held them in her hands. Her feelings were definitely romantic, but it wasn’t something that gripped her like she had seen it take hold of Sana. It wasn’t all-encompassing.

Sana searched her eyes, disbelief in them. 

“It isn’t like what you’re feeling,” Momo said, trying to put as much sincerity as she could in those words. She wouldn’t say it aloud, especially not to Sana, but she didn’t have the time to figure out what exactly she felt. Dahyun was leaving. So even if those feelings were like Sana’s, it was too late.

_____

Dahyun was adjusting the calm of the forest. It was working perfectly. The only immortals who had passed through were the girls, and she only felt echoes of those emotions. It wasn’t draining like a net of sadness or grief could be, but it was more than enough. She still felt them now and then as the day progressed, but not strongly. That intensity would come when the girls had the sadness in their minds. 

As she sat down by the river, she took out the potions she’d made. The rituals for summoning the right ingredients had been mostly successful. She still lacked enough to make a full stock, but there were six proper draughts. These would heal her fully and quickly, so they would need to be used sparingly. The other ten were those made from human ingredients. They were rudimentary and would work slowly and inefficiently, but they’d still heal her. It would have to be enough for now. The use of the magic had drained her more than it should have. She still wasn’t fully recovered. That would take some time. Did she have that time? 

She began to place them into her bag, wrapping them in clothing scraps to protect them from sudden impacts. As she did so, one of the vampires crossed into the forest’s threshold. They had a far more pronounced sadness than the rest. Tzuyu. 

“Dahyun?”

“Here,” she called, letting her illusions fall. 

The tall vampire was in front of her in moments. She was frowning. 

“What are those?” She sat down in front of her. Then she crossed her legs, unbothered by the mud. 

“Healing potions,” Dahyun replied. She didn’t mention the varied efficiency between them. That would be an unnecessary source of worry. “One thing I realised was to make further precautions, ones which should have been done a long time ago.” She pulled up the leg of her pants, revealing the multicoloured bands around her leg. “These are sources of excitement and other warm and cool emotions. For when I’m unable to generate them.” 

“So they could help if your emotions were taken again?”

Dahyun winced at the mention of it, but she nodded. An emotional fae would be able to see them, but no other would be able to. She was also quite sure that they would not be taken away through one of their talismans. If they overwhelmed her with emotions, however, those around her leg would be useless. As for the love and happiness she had accumulated in these weeks, she hoped those could save her a second time.