In Yeji’s adoring crowd of fans, there was one person who stood out. Said person wasn’t even a fan; that was obvious given the way she slouched next to a squealing young girl with bright red hair. Her own hair was midnight black, faded pink strands sticking out from the curtain of black. As if she could feel Yeji’s eyes on her, the girl tucked the stands behind her ear and crossed her arms, leaning over to mutter something to the Ariel-looking girl. So they’re friends, Yeji observed. Yet her attention was focused on the uninterested girl rather than her friend the fan. 

“Yeji, where’s your head at?” She turned to look at her manager, bent down beside her. The line of fans was snaking towards her, all of them holding albums ready to be signed. The large red table she sat behind made the audience seem bigger and the line longer. Outdoor fan signing events were never Yeji’s favorite, because of how isolated she was. She enjoyed singing, performing, being a soloist, and she was grateful for the attention and love she got, but sometimes she wished she could skip these events. She wished she could trade it in for an ounce of normality, something she had never gotten all her life. “Sorry. I was just thinking.” 

The apology was flimsy, but her manager didn’t say anything and instead handed her a pen. She took it and uncapped it, careful to not get any ink on her fingers. What if she was able to be somewhere else, anywhere else other than here? A park, sitting on the bench, watching as couples and families and individuals walked by, basking in the evening warmth. A crowded grocery store, mumbling “excuse me,” shuffling past customers to get to the dairy aisle. Even just a hill overlooking a lake, lying in the grass, breezes running their fingers of air through her hair.  

Yeji wanted an ounce of normality. Just a few moments, in the time she had left to live. 

She signed the albums, smiling at her fans and thanking them, trying to engage in small conversations before they were ushered aside so the next person could get their seconds of standing in front of Hwang Yeji. Maybe, for once, Yeji thought, could they not treat her like an idol, and just as an ordinary human being? A normal citizen, like the rest of them. Wasn’t that what she was, in the end? She was like them. So why wasn’t she being treated the same way?  

“A brief return to normalcy would be nice,” she muttered under her breath, as one fan left and another approached her. Her manager’s hand fell down on her shoulder. “What was that?” 

“It’s nothing, sorry,” Yeji said, giving a small smile. “Talking to myself.” And there she was again, greeting the fan and signing their albums. She loved her fans, thought of them as friends. Not one of them had what she was looking for, though. And Yeji had never experienced normalcy...so was it even possible to return to that state?  

As the event wrapped up, Yeji took another minute to glance around at the audience. The bored-looking girl from before was still there, talking with her friend. There was something about her, something Yeji couldn’t put her finger to. Once she left, climbing into her van, it was like the lightbulb of her mind was switched on. That girl seemed normal. So that was it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Two nights later, Yeji was wide awake at three a.m. Maybe it was all the pills she was supposed to take, maybe it was the stress and anxiety of her schedule, maybe it was the unsettling feeling at the bottom of her stomach, maybe it was because of all of the above. She had a performance in two hours and had to go to the salon in one. It wasn’t exactly a good idea to stay awake all night, but here she was. 

Adrenaline pulsed through her veins. Three a.m. be damned, she had to do something. She sprung to her feet, pulling on an oversized hoodie and a bucket hat, which she tipped down so her eyes wouldn’t be visible to anyone looking at her. She grabbed her car keys and practically ran out of her house, almost forgetting to lock the door behind her. There was always the possibility of people watching her with their insanely massive cameras, but Yeji could care less. Three a.m. be damned, paparazzi be damned, everything be damned. She was going to go on a drive, she wasn’t sure where to but the destination didn’t matter so much as the actual drive did.  

She rolled the windows down as she steered the car onto the highway, enjoying the feel of the cold air blowing onto her face and legs, bringing along the smell of autumn with it. This was her escape from life, her safe haven, more or less; something she could repeatedly return to (at the expense of losing sleep, but at this point, did it really matter?). She had just established something new for herself, something she imagined other people did. This was normal for them, right? Late night drives, just to have some time to themselves to think and ponder. This was normal.  

With a contented sigh, Yeji pulled into an empty parking lot. Dim white light spilled from the windows of the nearby windows, just enough for Yeji to at least see her surroundings. She was alone, here with the stars above her, the cheap florescent light around her, and the rough asphalt underneath her car’s wheels, grounding her to reality. She’d have to go back soon. She couldn’t stay here, as much as she wanted to, for fear of being caught. Of course, the darkness and her outfit pretty much prevented anyone from being able to see her clearly, but anything was possible.  

She almost didn’t catch the shadow that was slowly approaching her from her far left. But she did, and she quickly swiveled around, looking at the figure through the windows. It was a young woman, based on their slim body and their hair, just a bit longer than shoulder length. She wore black leggings and an oversized bright blue shirt that Yeji could’ve spotted from miles away. Probably to make herself more visible at this ungodly hour, in case anyone else was out and about, like Yeji. This person, however, was familiar, Yeji realized. She leaned forward and squinted, making out the midnight black hair that blended in with the sky and the faded strands of pink which the young woman promptly tucked behind her ear, as if she could feel Yeji’s eyes on her. Just like before. 

Yeji got out of the car. The other girl stood, hands folded behind her back. “You’re the singer,” she said. Her voice was so soft, Yeji had to strain to hear it, yet she was already captivated. She was drawn to this person, who she had never met before in her life, who she had just seen earlier that day for a very brief period of time. There was something about her. She was normal. Normal to Yeji, at least, and that was all Yeji needed. “I want to feel normal.”  

The words spilled out from behind her lips like the light from behind the building windows that seemed to loom around them, trapping them in an inescapable circle. This person would help Yeji escape, though. She was certain of that. The young woman responded, making no attempt to raise her voice. “I’ll help you feel normal.”  

She turned and gestured to a car that, like magic, seemed to appear out of the shadows. Yeji hadn’t seen it when she had driven into the empty space. And perhaps she shouldn’t have been following this stranger into her car without any protests or questions, but it was too late for regrets and second thoughts, for the young woman was pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the highway with Yeji in her passenger seat. She had an odd feeling she could trust the girl behind the wheel. She wasn’t going to get kidnapped or killed. She would feel normal, just for a few minutes. 

Everything about this girl was magic, apparently, for within seconds they arrived at a forest. The trees, just like the buildings, loomed over them, branches dripping with foreboding. But that foreboding vanished and it suddenly felt like the sun was shining warmly onto them when the young woman grabbed Yeji’s hand, her tight grip comforting. It was like a bubble of safety surrounded Yeji, accompanying her as she was led to her normal destination by this familiar stranger, pushing through the bushes and trees. 

They finally stopped at a small, clear area; a circular opening in the midst of the forest holding a moonlit pond surrounded by soft yet vivid purple and pink flowers. Orange petals drifted across the pond, continuously floating. It was like they were also trapped in an inescapable circle like Yeji had been in the parking lot; an inescapable cycle. But this cycle of coexisting in harmony with simple yet breathtaking beauty wasn’t so much a trap as it was a blessing. Yeji knew she would be grateful if she was one of those immortal petals, lying on the cool surface of water, buffeted almost gently around the pond. Simply put, Yeji wished she had found this place sooner. Yet it seemed perfect that she was discovering it now, introduced to it by the girl standing next to her.  

Said girl spoke after the two spent a few seconds basking in the calm, celestial-like aura. “This is a popular spot couples go to in the evening.” Her words were casual, no trace of discomfort when she said “couples” flashed across her face, and her voice was dreamy. She was lost in this world she now shared with Yeji. “The sunset is beautiful when it’s reflected in the pond.” 

This was a normal spot. There was nothing normal about going there in the dead of the night, but that didn’t change how beautiful and mystifying it was, and it was still a normal spot for couples, as the young woman had stated rather blissfully. They were a couple of strangers brought together by fate, by normalcy, by the strong urge to feel normal, to achieve normalcy. That was good enough for Yeji.  

After a minute or two in which they simply gazed at their surroundings, burying themselves in the thoughts that had emerged upon seeing this scenery, the young woman next to Yeji turned around and gestured for Yeji to follow her as she pushed back through the bushes and out of the forest. Yeji obediently followed, almost blankly, her body moving but her mind still stuck at the pond. They climbed back into the girl’s car and drove back to the parking lot. The girl finally let go of Yeji’s hand and Yeji got out, but not without hesitating and looking back at the girl, who also seemed to hesitate before flashing her a warm smile.  

That smile wouldn’t leave Yeji’s mind. She didn’t get any sleep that night, but it was worth it.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The next night, it was like everything was repeating again. Three a.m. Stress and anxiety, odd feeling at the pit of Yeji’s stomach. Performance later that day, had to report to the salon in two hours. Once again, she found herself pulling on another outfit designed to disguise her from the public and their cameras, and once again she found herself driving to the parking lot. Windows rolled down, breathing in the autumn air. Was the girl going to be there? 

She was. She was leaning against her own car, turning around when Yeji parked behind her. Yeji wanted to think the glint of white she saw was the girl’s teeth as she grinned in delight, but when she got out, the girl looked as solemn as ever.  

They drove to a park this time. It was eerie, covered by a blanket of dark shadows woven together, holding unbroken silence underneath it. Yeji recognized it as one of the most popular parks during the day, always filled with families and couples and groups of young adults. Here, in the midst of the night, where you were either wide awake or deep asleep, it was completely empty. Maybe if Yeji had visited the park more often in the day, she would have found it strange. But she thought it seemed perfect. A normal park. Another thing to instill the sense of normalcy within her that she was missing. 

The girl had moved to sit on a bench facing the park. Yeji sat next to her; then, feeling as if she needed to fill the silence between them with her words, she introduced herself quietly. “I’m Hwang Yeji. The singer, as you already know. I’m twenty years old; just became an adult in May. May 26th. I’ve been singing for years now...since I was fifteen? Sixteen? I can’t remember. That fan sign you were at, that was for my fourth album. I have two puppies and I miss them a lot. I haven’t been able to see them in weeks. I haven’t been able to see my family either. I miss them a lot too. Most of the time I’m exhausted because of my schedule but I cook a lot. I like reading. I sleep in on free days. I try to go to the gym every single day; I went earlier today and I went yesterday too.” She paused, fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt, then spoke again to break the pressure of the silence hovering above her. “That’s...that’s it. I’m kind of boring, I guess.” 

The silence returned, though without pressure. It was comfortable, despite the young woman not speaking. She gazed at Yeji for a second, then two, and smiled the same smile she had the night before. The warm smile that spoke volumes and would fix itself into Yeji’s mind, unshakable. Yeji’s words had been registered.  

And the next day, they were exchanged with the young woman’s words. With Ryujin’s words.  

Ice cream shop that was open 24/7. As they walked in, the cashier didn’t seem surprised, almost as if she had expected them to enter. They both got soft-serve – simple chocolate in a waffle cone – and sat outside at one of the empty tables, at their cones. It was sweet, but not too sweet; a hint of bitter followed the creaminess flecked with ice. It was perfect and it was normal. Ice cream at three a.m. It felt perfect and normal, just like the ice cream she was eating with the girl who sat across from her. 

The girl spoke when the silence between them seemed to start hanging awkwardly again, introducing herself with a deep, melodious voice Yeji wanted to listen to forever. “I’m Shin Ryujin. Not an actor, nothing as famous as that, just an ordinary girl. I’m nineteen, born on April 17th. I’m in university. I have an older brother; I’ve been seeing him often. Way too often.” She chuckled, then resumed speaking. “That girl I was with is my best friend, Shin Yuna. Huge fan of yours since you debuted. She’s forced me to listen to your music, too...I mean, not that she really had to force me, I like your music a lot. I just can’t really go to your events or concerts as much as she can. But I wish I could. Maybe one day. I’d like that.” She bit down on her ice cream cone, the satisfying crunches replacing her voice. (Yeji preferred Ryujin’s voice.) 

Ryujin continued, swallowing the rest of her ice cream. “I just study a lot for exams, but I like watching movies and T.V. I’m kind of a homebody; I tend to stay in my room all the time. I listen to your music whenever I can.” She stood and started to walk towards her car. Yeji quickly ate the rest of her ice cream, not minding the brief, still feeling of her mind going painfully numb. It was worth it.  

They drove back to the parking lot, where Ryujin dropped Yeji off as usual. Before pulling away, Ryujin leaned out of her window, waving her hand to catch Yeji’s attention. “Hey.” She waited until Yeji walked closer to her, then gave her the brightest smile Yeji had ever seen. Bright, warm, Shin Ryujin. “I don’t think you’re boring. You’re interesting. You’re a good person. Getting to know you even more sounds really nice.” 

That night, Ryujin’s smile had once again taken up residence in Yeji’s mind. What was new, however, was the giddy smile that shone on Yeji’s own face, and Ryujin’s words that continuously rang in her ears. Was this how it felt, to start a friendship with someone? Though Yeji met several people in the music industry, she never got to know them well enough to form lasting friendships, and though she had friends, she had made them years ago. This feeling, of forming a friendship with someone new, it felt magical. What made it even more magical was Ryujin. There was a certain spark she brought, something that sent tingles throughout Yeji’s body, something...there was just something there. And Yeji loved it. 

Yeji was lucky her schedules weren’t as hectic anymore; maybe a fan signing event here and there, the occasional performance on a music show or at a music festival. She was lucky because she didn’t think she was able to focus on anything except Ryujin anymore. The excitement of their nightly excursions propelled her through the day as she imagined where Ryujin would take her and what they would talk about – rather, what she would talk about or what Ryujin would talk about. They had adopted a strange system; every day only one of them would talk. Yeji started it, Ryujin spoke next and on the third night it was Yeji’s turn. Ryujin drove her to a popular monument, a statue of a famous historical figure tourists from everywhere would come and take pictures of. At the statue’s feet were bunches of flowers, forming a little, well-kept garden. (On Ryujin’s night, she revealed she was the one taking care of the garden.)  

The night they visited the statue, Yeji told Ryujin about how stressed she had been lately, up until she met Ryujin. The next night, they visited another park a little farther away, and Ryujin confessed she had been stressed lately too, due to exams, up until she met Yeji. Hiking through a sweet-smelling forest, Yeji shared her TMIs of the day, things she typically reserved for telling fans through live broadcasts. Drinking perfectly crafted bittersweet coffee, smooth cold brew chasing rock hard dark chocolate biscotti down their throats, Ryujin told Yeji secrets Yeji had a feeling Ryujin had never told anyone. By the twentieth night, Yeji had to clamp her lips shut, on sour candy kids were fond of, to prevent herself from saying something she knew it was too early to say. I think I like you. 

Friendship had blossomed into love, Yeji mused, driving back home that twentieth night. Searching for something to say, she told Ryujin about her day – which was uneventful; she had stayed home the whole time – but it wasn’t what she had really wanted to say. That spark Ryujin had brought escalated into a fire; a warm and inviting fire, flames at the icy night around it, but still a fire nevertheless, and it was pushing Yeji to want to say things she would’ve never dreamed of saying. Even to fans, which was walking on a dangerous, tight line. She’d stop herself just in time from blurting out how a fan reminded her of her good friend Ryujin, she’d somehow manage to not mention to her manager – who rode back to the agency with her – how she thought she liked someone, but she’d never stop the words from tracing her lips when she was safe and secure in her house, in her own room, in her bed underneath the covers, trying to manifest the same type of warmth she felt by being around Ryujin. I like you, Shin Ryujin. The warmth from the blankets was never the same. 

Yet again, Ryujin had helped Yeji to feel normal. Falling in love was normal, the butterflies drifting around in her stomach every time she met with Ryujin was normal, never wanting her time with Ryujin to stop was normal. Her time was going to stop soon, and that wasn’t normal. But until then, Yeji could prolong the feelings Ryujin made her experience, for as long as she had left. And that was normal. Ryujin made Yeji feel everything, but Ryujin especially made Yeji feel normal.  

However, sitting in Ryujin’s car on the twenty-third night, eating shaved ice under the stars, jagged leaves of doubt lodged in Yeji’s throat. She coughed violently, trying to get the leaves out, quickly smiling reassuringly at Ryujin when the younger girl looked at her in concern. “I’m okay. Something stuck in my throat.” 

That itself wasn’t a lie, though what was stuck in wasn’t exactly physical. Yet it was still there, preventing Yeji from taking another spoonful of shaved ice. She took a small bite to appease Ryujin, who was clearly worried, and let the ice melt on her tongue, the melted flavor trickling down her throat. Doubt was seeping from the leaves, clogging her airways and making it hard to breathe. She couldn’t sit in the same space as Ryujin anymore, she had to get out – not because of Ryujin, but because of the air they both breathed, the air that her body refused to inhale. Without another word, though she badly wanted to comfort Ryujin and let her know everything was okay (it wasn’t, but Ryujin didn’t need to know that), Yeji set her cup down and got out of the car, slamming the door behind her and leaning against the cool metal, chest heaving. “You’re okay,” she whispered to herself, taking in mouthful after mouthful of the crisp wind that pushed against her face and tangled itself in her hair. “You’re okay.” 

The leaves hadn’t disappeared. Yeji took another deep breath, her fingers joining the wind as they ran through her hair in frustration. What was wrong? Rather, why was she feeling as if something was wrong? Why was she feeling like her newly discovered feelings for Ryujin were wrong? She closed her eyes, hand raised to rest against her forehead, palm facing the sky. She was asking questions she knew the answers to. Ryujin was the only person Yeji had gotten close to lately, albeit over a long period of time. Even so, Yeji hadn’t exactly been spending too much time with anyone else, other than her manager and her fans. The problem was her developing feelings for someone who made her feel something she had sought for, craved for, something she had been missing all her life until she came across Ryujin. Did she truly love Ryujin, Yeji wondered, or was she mistaking her desperation and need for more satisfaction for genuine attraction? Did she only love Ryujin because Ryujin helped her feel normal? Was that it? Yeji’s heart sunk as she tossed the idea around in her mind, its blackberry bitterness spreading from her formerly confined thoughts to . The sweet shaved ice was forgotten and replaced with an unpleasant and unwanted taste, morphing from rotting fruit to scattered ashes.  

Stifling a heavy sigh, Yeji turned around and opened the door, getting back into the car. One hand closed the door behind her, the other reached out and searched for the shaved ice cup – and was met with empty space. Confused, Yeji looked over to where she had put her cup. All she saw was Ryujin, spoon in and eyes sheepishly widened, Yeji’s shaved ice cup in her hands. Her own was on her lap, half-finished. “You...” Yeji trailed off, shaking her head and laughing. “You didn’t like yours?”  

The increasingly guilty look on Ryujin’s face told Yeji all she needed to know. Still laughing softly, she took Ryujin’s cup, pulling the spoon out. “Okay. Just keep mine, then,” she said, glancing over to Ryujin.  

She had no idea a simple smile could make all her doubts vanish. 

Ryujin’s grin was like the sun, light parting through the dark clouds that had been hanging over Yeji’s head. Yeji could practically feel the burden of those doubts melt away, and the leaves in turned into sweet honey, bringing a smile to her own face. There was no point doubting herself, because the doubts were baseless. She didn’t just love Ryujin for the normal way she made Yeji feel. Sure, that was what attracted Yeji at first, but now Yeji loved Ryujin for who she was. She loved Ryujin for her perfections and her flaws, for the small details that made her her, for the smiles and the frowns, the laughing and the crying. Making Yeji feel normal was just something that tagged along at that point. Yeji was thankful for it, but most importantly, she was thankful for Ryujin.  

Minutes of comfortable silence passed in which both girls were smiling, though Yeji’s was shy due to the conclusion she had just reached. “Hey, Ryujin,” she said, meeting the other girl’s gaze once again. “I’m sure you want to know what I was thinking about before, getting out of the car, right?” 

Ryujin gave a small nod. Yeji tipped her head back, eyes dragged away from Ryujin and onto the car’s ceiling. “I have something to tell you. Not tonight. But soon.” She looked at Ryujin, who was raising an eyebrow, eliciting another laugh from Yeji. “I don’t want to tell you right now, it’s not the right time. I promise I’ll tell you soon. I guess, in a way, it’s good.”  

The relief on Ryujin’s face only made Yeji feel guilty. What Yeji was planning on telling Ryujin wasn’t good at all; at least, it wouldn’t be good to Ryujin. It was Yeji’s final escape, what she had been anticipating for years. Everything would be over. Admittedly, Yeji hadn’t wanted to tell Ryujin, but she had to now. She didn’t want to disappear on Ryujin, not when Ryujin had done so much for her.  

And on the twenty-fifth night, standing under swaying trees, their branches laden with dim pink flowers, Yeji took Ryujin’s hands in hers and said, “I have cancer.” 

Ryujin’s hands slipped out of Yeji’s grip, falling to her sides. Yeji swallowed hard. She didn’t like the way Ryujin was staring at her, how her bottom lip was trembling, her shoulders starting to shake. Nevertheless, she continued speaking, voice almost masked by the branches shuffling against each other in the wind. “I’m supposed to report to the hospital tomorrow. The doctors tell me I only have a week left...you know, a week left to –”  

Ryujin’s finger on her lips cut Yeji off. Even without that, Yeji knew she would’ve stopped talking after seeing the look on Ryujin’s face. She didn’t even know Ryujin was capable of having that kind of expression. It was heartbreaking. Yeji gently took Ryujin’s finger off of her lips and cupped the other girl’s face with her hands, trying to fit as many of her thoughts and emotions in the small smile she gave Ryujin. She wanted to let Ryujin know that it was okay, that Yeji was happy, that she was so, so grateful to Ryujin for how she made Yeji feel – for everything. She wanted to let Ryujin know everything.  

The drive back to the parking lot felt like a dream. Ryujin’s hand never left Yeji’s, her grip both comforting and miserable, and those feelings only intensified when Ryujin finally let go as she slowed to a stop in front of Yeji’s car. Yeji got out and gave a half-hearted wave to Ryujin before heading to her own car. Every cell in her body was screaming at her to turn around, to give voice to the things she wanted to let Ryujin know, to tell Ryujin all of it. She didn’t listen. It’d be easier this way, just leaving, she figured. Ryujin would understand.  

She pulled her keys out and unlocked her car. Her eyes were starting to sting, and either that meant Yeji was tired or she was about to cry. She had to go home. She opened the door and had one foot in the car when –  

“Yeji, wait!” 

Foot out of the car, Yeji spun around and was immediately nose to nose with Ryujin. Hands grabbed her arms and pulled her in and for a few everlasting sweet seconds, she was kissing Ryujin. It tasted like the honey from before that had brought a smile to Yeji’s face, with undertones of warm vanilla. It tasted like infinity. It tasted like Ryujin, and god, did Yeji love that girl.  

She pulled away first, realizing that suddenly, everything seemed so much better than it had just moments ago. Ryujin wasn’t crying, but her jaw was set and her hands had risen to her chest, arms crossed tightly. Yeji brushed away the lock of hair that had fallen over the other girl’s eyes, tenderly tucking it behind her ear. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered. “I promise.”  

For the next week, it was okay. Without alerting the media or fans, Yeji and her manager had successfully signed in with the hospital and Yeji was now restricted to a hospital bed and an I.V. drip. It wasn’t as bad as Yeji had thought it’d be, she reflected one afternoon, flipping through the pages of her nearly filled notebook, containing notes written down from over the years. The most recent ones had been from her nights with Ryujin, one note logged in the notebook after every journey. And then there were the small gifts left by her bedside every morning. She looked over to the bedside drawer, where that morning’s gifts lay – two flowers she had instantly recognized to be from Ryujin’s garden, a small card made out of plain white paper and decorated with colorful pens, and a sparkling rock. She picked it up, feeling the weight of it in her hand. Ryujin had held this the night before, picked it out of her garden, as the card detailed in quick scribbled words, followed by a single R. So far, Yeji’s collection consisted of the rock, several flowers and cards, an empty bag that used to hold fresh baked cookies, and three photographs, each with a smiling blurry figure next to beautiful, blooming trees. Ryujin. 

Yeji just wanted to see Ryujin, though. And on the last day she was supposed to live, she saw Ryujin.  

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting rivers of amber flame into the sky that pierced the pink cotton candy clouds, Ryujin slipped into Yeji’s room. She pulled up a chair beside Yeji, hands quickly finding their way to Yeji’s. She felt warm. Yeji felt warm. Ryujin made her feel warm. Who knew Ryujin wouldn’t just bring normalcy to Yeji’s life, but warmth and love and so many other things Yeji knew she wouldn’t have felt without Ryujin?  

“I just keep thinking of the day I first saw you,” Yeji said, her words floating into the space between them. She closed her eyes, the warmth from Ryujin’s hands blooming through her and painting her smile. “You just instantly caught my attention. In a crowd of over a thousand people, you, in the back, caught my attention. You looked like everything I was missing. You looked...normal.” Gratitude joined the warmth, fueled it into a comforting fire, and Yeji opened her eyes. “You made me feel normal. And then you made me feel everything.” 

Ryujin shook her head. “No, you made me feel everything,” she said, voice cracking. She her lips, hands clenching as tears fell down her cheeks. Yeji leaned over, wiping the tears with her thumbs. “Come on, Ryujin,” she murmured, hands kept in place over Ryujin’s cheeks by Ryujin’s hands. “Don’t cry.” 

“I love you, Yeji,” Ryujin choked out, sobs starting to wrack her body. She looked down at her lap, hiccupping, before looking back up at Yeji. If her voice didn’t give the turmoil of emotions she was probably feeling away, her eyes certainly did. “I love you. I love you so much...don’t go...” 

Once again, Yeji closed her eyes, relaxing into the pillows. Her body was starting to feel weak, her arms growing limp and the urge to not move taking over her. She wasn’t going to die, not just yet, but it was time to prepare. For Ryujin, that was the equivalent of her dying at this very moment. Yeji knew how to reassure Ryujin it would be okay. It was going to be okay. Yeji knew that. “One day, I want you to take me to that pond, okay? The one you took me to the first night. I want you to take me at sunset. A sunset just like this one. I want to see it.” 

Ryujin’s breath hitched, and when she spoke, it was strained but full of forlorn acceptance. “I will.”  

Yeji leaned back further into her pillows. She wanted to stay in the moment, her hands now resting atop her blanket and covered by Ryujin’s again, the welcome warmth enveloping her. She didn’t want to leave at all. She wanted to stay with Ryujin. But her time had come and there was nothing she could do about it, other than be thankful. Thankful she was with Ryujin, thankful she had finally experienced what it was to be normal. What it was to be normal with Ryujin. What it was to love someone. What it was to love Ryujin.  

Feeling lighter than ever, Yeji spoke her last words, the memory of Ryujin’s bright smile temporarily pushing away the darkness that threatened to overcome her. “Thank you for making me feel normal, Ryujin. Thank you for letting me love you...thank you for everything. I love you, Shin Ryujin.”  

The last thing Yeji thought of was Ryujin smiling at her before everything went black. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Circular opening in the midst of the forest. A pond reflecting the sunset, surrounded by soft yet vivid purple and pink flowers. Orange petals drifting across the pond, continuously floating. Inescapable circle, inescapable cycle. 

Two people stepped into the opening, holding hands. One of them had midnight black hair, faded pink strands hidden behind the curtain of black hair. The other one had tied up, long dark brown hair. They gazed at the sunset in the pond, the sun casting a warm orange glow onto their surroundings. “You wanted to come back, right?” Ryujin said, squeezing the other person’s hand. 

Yeji smiled, squeezing Ryujin’s hand back. “Yeah. I did.” They tore their gazes from the pond and onto each other, the sun’s warm glow melting into their smiles, then looked back at the pond, enjoying the endless moment they shared. 

Yeji had never felt as normal as she did just then. 

end <3