Dahyun walked back to the house. It was earlier than she’d meant to, but it was childish to evade such a discussion. 

But she’d also needed to give them time. Either to consider her words or find an argument that didn’t excuse her actions. 

Their insistence that she was innocent pained her. She had killed. If they were to truly see her as she was, they’d have to acknowledge that, just as she would do the same for them. To ignore actions would be to ignore a great part of her. 

She was afraid that they were ignoring that part of her. She was afraid that if they saw her as she did herself, they wouldn’t love her anymore. A part of her was convinced they would. The other part told her she was being foolish for believing such a thing. 

She’d spent the entire time in the emotional world, enveloping herself in calm so that she could let it seep into the house. It had been an impulsive decision to leave the emotion there. It wasn’t the complete memory, but it was enough to be too much. She wasn’t going to risk hurting them just to prove her point. Perhaps there was too much calm in the house now. She’d take a good amount of it back, but for the time where they were processing what they’d seen, as well as witnessing it themselves, they needed to be grounded again by calm. The anger within them, anger that wasn’t their own, needed to be tempered. 

Dahyun re-emerged from her thoughts when she saw someone in the forest. 

“Dahyun?” The words were joined with caution and doubt. 

Momo emerged from the trees, wringing her hands as she did. 

“Yes?” Dahyun wished she didn’t sound cold. She was past that. “I’m sorry I walked away as I did.” 

“You needed to think,” Momo said. “We needed to see.” Her eyes fell. 

Dahyun saw flickers of her own anger in Momo. “And you saw.” So where was the fear or distaste? 

“Dahyun,” she started, “you hate what you did. A part of you hates yourself.” Her hands reached out for Dahyun’s. “When you told us to see what happened, to feel what you did, did you expect us to hate you?” 

A part of you hates yourself. 

Was that true? She knew hatred well. Was that truly what she felt for herself? It wasn’t, was it?

“We could never hate you,” Momo took her hand, “ever, Dahyun.”

“That’s a bit of an overstatement.”

She chuckled. “If you still enjoyed torture and took all my food without giving me anything, then yes.” Her eyes turned serious. “But with what you did, and we all saw it, that’s not going to make us hate you.” 

“I don’t hate myself,” Dahyun said. “I hate what I did. I hate that I was able to do it.” 

“And how easy it was?” Momo asked. “I’ve felt it before, Dahyun. We’ve all wanted revenge. And most of us got it.” There was an old anger then. The same she’d felt when Momo had told her the story of her lost love. “If you knew what I’d done and thought while I’d done it, then,” she trailed off. “I don’t know what you’d think of me.” 

She opened to say something, but stopped herself. Momo also continued before she could say something else. 

“Dahyun,” she took her hands in hers, “I know what you did. We saw it happen, the sides you showed us. I’ve felt their grief too.” She looked at her. “That doesn’t change how much we love you.” 

Dahyun had to look away then. The emotions directed at her. It felt like too much. It made her chest swell. Too much emotion, more than she’d ever thought she’d have again. 

“You told us what happened to you before already,” Momo said. “You already thought we’d hate you then or that we’d turn you away. We hadn’t known you as well as we did then, but we did none of those things.”

And it was true. She'd still been surprised then.

Then Momo nodded, not at her, but at somewhere else. 

There were other footsteps. Tentative, but there was certainty in the woman who walked them. 

“Can I?” Sana asked. Her eyes flickered between Dahyun and the forest floor. 

Dahyun only nodded. 

She walked closer. One of her arms rose before falling. 

Dahyun let go of one of Momo’s and reached out. 

A small smile appeared as Sana took it. 

“Hey,” she said. 

Dahyun chuckled. “Hi.” 

“After what we saw,” Sana held her gaze now, “we understand why you didn’t want Rila or Yrest to suffer more. Why you didn’t want them dead.” 

“But?”

“Did it come from a place of shame?”

Dahyun looked for judgement or doubt in Sana’s eyes then. She found neither. Only the expectance for an answer. As well as patience. 

“Yes,” Dahyun admitted. “I know how it feels to suffer in that way. And I know how it can feel to cause that same suffering to another.” A flare of disgust rose in her chest at that. “So yes, my guilt was a reason.”

“The only reason?” Momo asked. 

It hadn’t been. And Dahyun knew the two knew that.

“I know you can’t get rid of that guilt. All of us know that. Maybe a little more than we let on,” Sana smiled slightly, “and you can look for it, if you wanted to.” 

Dahyun shook her head. “Your word is enough.”

Sana gave a small nod. “But I’m scared that you let it get stronger over the years," She said. "When you were alone and running from them.”

“You didn’t take the emotions back in that place,” Momo said. “What happened there, both before and after you fought them, it broke you. And you did hate yourself in that moment.” 

Dahyun saw that her eyes had become glassy. She hoped none of them would cry. It wasn’t a day for tears to be shed. At least not more than there had. 

“Turning away from those emotions hurt you,” Momo continued. “Going over everything you did to cause what happened made it even worse. You took on the entire responsibility when it’s a burden shared by others.” 

And there was the change. Their stance hadn’t completely changed. They still disagreed with what Dahyun thought. But there was a different reason. 

“You say it as if I can take the emotions out of me.” Dahyun felt herself smile. 

“On the literal level, you could.” Momo shrugged. “But you said that doesn’t take it away from you completely.”

“No,” she said. “Only if they're destroyed.”

“Which is not what we’re telling you to do. Ever.” Momo’s eyes turned hard. “But there’re thoughts you have, things you feel, that are exactly like what you felt on that day. Sana and I both feel that now.” 

Dahyun felt a tug at her eyes. She looked at the ground. 

Sana squeezed her hand. “We’re afraid that you’ll never let them fade. That you won’t let yourself do that.” She tilted Dahyun’s head up. “It’s not about excusing yourself for what happened or forgetting about it.” 

“You mean I have to forgive myself,” Dahyun finished. She knew her voice was filled with doubt. She knew that both would feel her disbelief. 

“I know that’s not gonna happen now,” Momo said. “Or next week, or even next year.” She took a step closer. “But you have to start.”

“I understand,” Dahyun whispered. “But if you’d felt their grief and fear, over and over again—” Just the mention of it brought the black and grey back to the forefront. It was fading, but a fair amount of it had lingered with her. “I know it’s unfair to say, because you’ll never feel that, and I never want you to, but knowing what I did with as much intimacy as if the feelings had been my own,” she shook her head, “forgiving myself is a fanciful dream.” 

That silenced both. Dahyun watched their sadness peer through their determination to make her see what they saw. She saw their hope dwindle, but it didn’t vanish. 

“But you lived all these years ashamed of what happened before that day too,” Sana said softly. “And we don’t think you should still shoulder that burden, taking the blame for starting this when it wasn’t just you.” 

In the back of her mind, Dahyun noted how they acknowledged that she had indeed had a role in the events. 

“The rest of the fae,” Sana pursed her lips, “as much as I’ll probably never agree with them on everything else—they thought you’d paid the price for what happened. Yrest, the person who’d lost those same people to you, said you’d suffered enough.” 

Dahyun couldn’t refute that. A part of her still wanted to. Was it for the sake of her pride? If it was, Dahyun forced it down. 

“And Gerst,” Momo began, “didn’t blame you for what happened either. Can you accept that?” 

There was an at least in her tone.

Dahyun heard Teresa’s screams when they’d started. She saw Teresa fall limp. Silent, but still alive. 

“And don’t think about how there might have been a way to save her,” Momo said. “You didn’t know it could be done. No one did.” Her voice trembled. 

With a start, Dahyun remembered how Momo’s past love had died. How she'd had the chance to turn him, but hadn't. 

The pain was still there. She saw the many pieces of her grief. Still present, but broken down. Somehow. 

Dahyun knew that the girls held their own regrets, ones they hadn’t yet spoken of. Ones they may never speak of. But they’d allowed them to be broken down in favour of living. Or moving on, as the mortals called it. But it wasn’t that simple. It couldn’t be resolved in a simple matter of months or even years. 

But even then, eternity allowed for that. 

“Time for dinner,” Sana said then. “And we’re watching a movie today.” She pulled on Dahyun’s hand. 

She let herself be guided. Momo was on her other side, also half leading her. It felt normal. And Dahyun couldn’t have been more grateful for that. 

_____

Momo had reluctantly let go of Dahyun’s hand during dinner. She couldn’t keep her eyes off her the entire time either. 

The changes were evident in the ways that they felt normal to see. Normal had become different. It’d become special. 

Dahyun’s eyes smiled now. They fluctuated between green and orange. She let out breathy laughs when she’d only given smiles before. Her smiles came more quickly too. They didn’t feel deliberated, nor so slow to register.

For the first time in what seemed like ages, Dahyun looked happy. She’d been happy before, but she’d never shown it like she did now. 

“So the elders,” Chaeyoung waved a fork still adorned with spaghetti, “how does that work if everyone lives forever?”

“We do keep track of age on the grander scale,” Dahyun said. “But certain people do get seen as better suited at times. My clan has had a sort of rotation system.” 

“Based on time?” Jihyo asked. 

“Sometimes, others only because an elder would rather step away from making decisions on that scale.” She shrugged. “It’s more common than you might think. Leadership is more daunting and many value it less than a proper discovery.”

“And you?” Mina leaned forward. 

Dahyun huffed. “A bother.”

“Were you ever an elder?” 

She shook her head. “I was far too young,” a crooked smile appeared, “but I would’ve never wanted to try it.” 

“Why?”

Dahyun's smile grew. “I would’ve needed to hear all about what the rest were doing and never be able to do something on my own. And when anything arises on the outside, there never fails to be a meeting with other fae, sometimes even elves.” She playfully rolled her eyes. “And there are elves who’re far less charming than the ones you met.” 

“That’s possible?” Nayeon raised a brow. 

Momo wondered if Dahyun would take offence to it.

Instead, she laughed, her eyes glowing orange again. 

“They’re a lot to grow accustomed to, I know.” Her eyes began to turn green as well. “I believe they might have referred to me as a stiff, if that word were a thing in crosesh or my own language.” 

“What do you call it?” Momo asked. She’d get back to the ‘stiff’ part. 

“Felar,” she replied. The word sounded both like a mix between the elven language and the fae. 

“And how’d you meet them?” Sana asked. She looked happier now as well. Still exhausted at times, but energised by what was now their present. 

“I’d known some of them before. We’d often ask the lunar elves to give us moonlight against the spirits. Many did. Since there was no way to control them or abuse the light, they did.” Dahyun took a bite of her food. She’d eaten half so far. “And I know those twelve well. You didn’t meet them, but one might have been the most studious elf I’d ever met.” A fond smile now. Momo saw flashes of white. Pride. 

Momo expected to feel jealous at that, but she didn’t. She just really wanted to meet her.

“I only really started to know them when the sadness came.” A small sigh. “But that’s a longer story in and of itself. They helped me manage the divide between the physical and emotional world. Over time, I was able to return the favour, if only slightly.”

“Slightly?” Jeongyeon repeated. “Did you gift them a truck of good emotions?” 

Dahyun chuckled, but shook her head. “I soothed some wounds moonlight couldn’t heal.” And by the edge to her eyes, Momo knew she didn’t want to talk about those wounds. She could also feel her growing reluctance. 

“So what was that about you being stiff?” Momo raised a brow. 

“That’s the usual complaint about the fae. Not just those of my clan.” She shrugged. “I think the word for us would be an ‘egghead’? The focus most show, or is required of others, can be off-putting.” She gave them a look. “And it’s alright to admit. It can be strange. Would you have been able to fully tolerate Gerst without the forewarning you had from me?"

“I’m gonna say yes,” Nayeon said.

Dahyun’s brow shot up. “Really? Someone who can scour your emotions and would address it in a heartbeat?”

“Well,” Nayeon began. Then she threw her head back, half-sighing, half-laughing. “Good point.” 

Momo felt Dahyun’s confusion, as well as surprise. Then it was joined with a realisation. 

“So it isn’t an issue anymore?” Dahyun asked. “Or is it something you forget? What I can see of you?”

There was a little bit of uncertainty there. 

Sana spoke first. “It stopped being an issue a while ago.”

Dahyun looked at her. Momo saw hope. Not just because of the colours surrounding her. It was the look in her eyes. She still found herself being slightly stunned at how easily and quickly Dahyun was expressing herself. It wasn’t as if Dahyun hadn’t been expressive before, a lot of the time she hadn’t ever hidden her confusion or passion for something. But something about this was different still. 

“When we were out there,” Sana’s brow furrowed a touch, “surrounded by people who could read our minds and know everything we were feeling, I hated it. And now that we’re here, you can see what I’m feeling—what we’re all feeling, and it doesn’t matter.”

“Technically, two of you know what I feel as well.” Dahyun’s eyes flicked between her and Momo. 

Momo smiled. “Doesn’t count.”

“The point is still the same,” Tzuyu said. “We trust you. We know you.”

Dahyun’s smile was softer now. Green and purple filled the air around her, as well as her eyes. 

“And the rest of us can read you a little,” Nayeon said. “Just as long as you teach us the colours and the combos.” 

“Combos?” Mina repeated, looking aghast. “Since when’d you know that word?”

Nayeon gave her a look. “You’re loud when you play those games.”

Just like that, whatever tension there might’ve been evaporated. Momo felt a few questioning gazes now and then. They knew what it meant that she could see Dahyun’s emotions. So did Dahyun. The reason why just hadn’t been said aloud. Yet. 

While they finished up with dinner and prepared for the movie, Sana had pulled Dahyun away from the kitchen and to the living room. Dahyun’s feet lingered, as she looked with a furrowed brow towards the kitchen. 

“No chores,” Sana was saying, “you’re off the hook today. So am I, so are you.” She nodded to Momo. 

“And what about me?” Nayeon called from the table. 

“You’re the oldest,” Momo threw back. 

“Not true!” she retorted. “Ask Ms. 1498.” 

“She’s not on duty,” Jihyo said then. “Neither are you, Ms. 1595.” 

“Mrs. 1595.” Nayeon rolled her eyes, but she was grinning.

“You’re married?” Dahyun looked between Jeongyeon and Nayeon. 

“By modern standards,” Nayeon flitted over to Jeongyeon, wrapping her arms around her as she cleaned the dishes, “no. By mine, yes.”

Dahyun’s eyes were filled with gold and yellow. She looked as though she was in awe. 

Right, if dating and kissing had been completely foreign to her, then marriage was all but alien. 

It reminded Momo that if Dahyun was going to realise something fully, it actually had to be said. She either drew back herself, feeling it wasn’t her business to meddle or ask after it. It was something Momo both loved and found slightly frustrating about her. It definitely made some things harder. 

The three of them sat down on the sofa, Dahyun between them. She was already holding Sana’s hand and pretty soon, her fingers sought out Momo’s. Her skin wasn’t so cold anymore. 

Momo was surprised. This wasn’t to reassure her, not like it’d been around the other fairies. This was just to have the contact. 

Another change from before. When Dahyun had been almost completely distant to them. When emotions had been slow to form and if they did, they were only shadows of what they could’ve been. 

It was only now that Dahyun was feeling her emotions in her entirety that Momo could see just how great the change had been. Even to the person they’d first met. 

And it wasn’t because Dahyun was a different person now because of it. She was more present than she had been. Able to feel fully and express that when it came. She wasn’t kept at arm’s length from her own emotions anymore. 

As the rest sat down, a large bowl of popcorn was put in Dahyun’s lap. Mina smiled gently. 

“We’ve decided,” Jeongyeon said, “that it’s about time you watched Twilight.” 

Pale gold appeared. “Was that with vampires or werewolves?”

A chuckle. “Both.”

“But no fairies or witches,” Chaeyoung added. “Unless you count the vampires having powers.”

Dahyun’s brow rose. “Really?” The gold became richer. “Did you think it was accurate?”

Nayeon snorted. “The vampires sparkle and have basically indestructible skin. We’re also freezing according to them.” 

A frown appeared. “Indestructible?” 

She nodded. “Nothing about them changes, not even the length of their hair or nails.”

“And they can’t eat,” Momo said. “It just sits in their stomach.”

The frown deepened. “But then how’s the blood digested?”

Momo saw Sana squeeze her hand. 

“Not sure if that was what the author was concerned about," Sana told her.

“But,” Dahyun began, a pout forming. 

“She’s right,” Mina said. “We’ll watch the movie first. Then you can pick apart every second of it.” 

“It’s not that bad!” Momo protested. “And it has to be watched with an open mind.”

Dahyun laughed. “If it’s got vampires whose muscles are stone, I won’t be having much of one.”

She gave her a look. “You liked Harry Potter just fine and it had a lot of holes.”

The fairy held her gaze. “That magic had holes I wanted filled in. A stone intestine cannot work. Not without cracking.” Her tone was serious, but her eyes were orange and green. Not a combination that should’ve worked, but Momo found it did.

“Starting!” Nayeon called. “And this’s a film you can talk over.”

“Not true,” Sana stuck out her tongue, “you talk, Momo gives you a snow storm.” 

Momo took some of the popcorn, holding it up to Dahyun’s mouth. 

Dahyun squinted at it. “Ah?” 

Momo smiled and fed her some pieces. 

“Just let us know when you want something,” Sana said quietly. “Because I don’t think either of us are letting go of your hands.”

“Nope.” Momo popped some popcorn into her own mouth. 

Dahyun only nodded. Momo felt the next emotion more than she saw it. It had a subtle warmth. She felt lighter. It was both an emotion of hers and one of Dahyun’s. She knew which one it was. Her chest felt lighter once she realised it. 

The film got going and Dahyun did remain silent. Some, like Nayeon and Jihyo, whispered loudly now and then a commentary. Momo wished she hadn’t, but she laughed even if it was at the film’s expense. She’d read the books. They hadn’t been terrible. Hilariously inaccurate to what vampires actually were, but the mortal author had tried. 

As the story went by and Bella Swan was seeing the Cullens again after realising they were vampires, Momo had long stopped watching the film. Sana had as well. 

Dahyun hadn’t noticed. The air around her was filled with varying shades of gold and a very light blue. The colours made the sight of Dahyun’s near unbreakable concentration even better. Momo loved to watch how Dahyun’s mind worked so clearly behind her eyes. She loved even more that she could watch how Dahyun either figured something out or became even more confused. It made her excited to read with her again, to see how Dahyun would work through the stories now, her curiosity allowed to flourish freely. 

It might’ve been the way emotions affected time, or something else, but the movie ended quickly. There had been moments when Dahyun had become less curious and confused. She’d gotten both concerned and unsettled when the story had gone over the humans being drained of blood, as well as the final scenes with James. Both Sana and Momo had alternated between giving her the rest of the popcorn and what they hoped were reassuring squeezes of her hands. It’d worked and the unease in Dahyun had faded. Momo knew it was also because Dahyun had a better foundation now. Scenes that could tug at her memories the wrong way, or bring up feelings she’d rather keep buried, didn’t as easily. Not that they’d be watching horror films any time soon, or another very heavy film. No, they’d keep most of the films light. 

Then the movie ended. Dahyun let out a small breath, but it wasn’t a sigh. She just looked at the screen with a questioning gaze. 

“So?” A smile played on Sana’s lips. “You were confused for most of it.” 

“Makes two of us,” Mina muttered. Several times, the girl had said she’d rather watch The Vampire Diaries. Momo fully intended to have Dahyun watch that too. At least