Yongsun looks back, trying to figure out how best to fit her car in their family home’s already cramped garage. Yonghee’s SUV already ran over their mom’s plants and Yongsun does not want a shouting match this early in the morning. After a minute of revving and the car beeping incessantly, Yongsun finally gets the spacing right, parks, and gets out of the car. 

“YONGSUN! How are you so early?” 

A taller, black-haired woman comes out the garage door, a robe hastily thrown over pajamas. 

“I’m not that early, you’re just a really late riser, Yonghee. It’s nice to see you too,” Yongsun grunts as she lifts her travel bag. “I hit the road at like 4 am, didn’t want to compete with the rush.” 

Yonghee, Yongsun’s older sister, rolls her eyes but steps forward to help with a huge box that was still in the trunk of the car. 

“You know, you could’ve texted right? Mom’s gonna go bat because she hasn’t cooked breakfast yet, she went out like thirty minutes ago.” Yonghee mutters. 

“I already had breakfast on the road, I don’t mind,” Yongsun replies. 

“Mom always minds.” 

Yonghee pushes the door open with her back and lets Yongsun in. 

Everything is exactly the way she remembers. Blue couch facing the window, instead of a TV. Countertop filled with day-old fruits, their grocery stickers still on them. Crystal bowl beside the door for keys, coins, and mail. Yellow house slippers that her mom buys every year to account for Yonghee and Yongsun’s growing foot sizes. A framed photo of four young girls in school uniforms on the living room shelf. 

30-year old Yongsun stretches, trying to shake off the uncomfortable sensation of sitting and driving for more than 5 hours. She heads to the kitchen and pulls out aloe vera juice and ice—her go-to drink. She goes back to the living room, where Yonghee was already taking out towels, bedsheets, and pillowcases. 

“I’m gonna go ahead and get back to my nap, if you don’t mind, so take these back to your room and get some sleep,” Yonghee hands her the cloths, all with an embroidered “Yongsun” on them. “Maybe say hi to dad, he’s just upstairs.” 

“Okay, thanks Yonghee.” 

Yongsun opens the door to her dad’s room where he was facing the window overlooking the quaint neighbourhood. 

“Hi dad.” 

“Ah Yongsun, I didn’t hear you arrive,” he turns and smiles at his youngest daughter. 

“I was really quiet, didn’t want to wake Yonghee.” 

They both smile, and Yongsun gives her father a tight hug. It’s been two years since she last did. 

Yongsun can’t quite believe that she’s back. 

Her dad lets go and pats her on the back. “It’s good to have you back Yongsun.” 

“Thanks dad. I’ll see you later okay? I smell like the inside of my car so I’ll just go and wash up.” 

Her dad smiles and resumes reading the paper. Outside, the neighbourhood was already waking—cars were pulling out of driveways and bicycle bells were already tinkling. She could even faintly hear the sound of the morning news downstairs, though she’s sure Yonghee just put the TV on and was already napping on the couch. 

Despite herself, she smiles as she enters her childhood room. Though her posters and some pictures had already been taken down and stuffed in a box years ago, her full body mirror still held photos of her high school days. There was even a box of memorabilia on the desk. A mic adorned with glitter that she remembers saving for years ago. A report card that had perfect As except for math. A book she never got around to reading. A digital camera she used to film videos of herself that already had wires sticking out from under it. A small gold trophy she won in a band contest as well as a picture of three girls, taken by Yongsun herself, years and years and years ago. 

She picks up the photo, unsure of what to feel. After about a minute of looking at the faces of these girls she would never forget, she rolls her eyes, opens a drawer and locks the photo in. Facedown. 

She went here for a close friend’s wedding and not for anything, or anyone, else. 

Yongsun spends thirty minutes in the shower, soaking in the warmth, refusing to think. She counts down in her mind and tries to recall the last time she took this much time showering, but she can’t. 

She turns off the shower head when a loud pounding came from the door. Yonghee’s voice came, muffled and sleepy. 

“Yongsun! Mom’s home with groceries, come say hi!” 

“Okay coming!” Yongsun shouts. She grabs her towel and quickly dries off. Pulling on an oversized sweater and loose pants, she wraps her wet hair with a towel and gargles some water. She looks at the foggy mirror, her distorted reflection emotionless, tired, weary. When did she become like this? It seems like ages ago when she last saw her face this close. 

Then again, the mirror was foggy. There might be brightness behind that blank face. She hopes so. 

In a flurry of steps and droplets, Yongsun comes down to the kitchen where her mom was unloading groceries. 

Yongsun hugs her from behind and smiles widely, for the first time, she notes in her head. 

“Yongsun! You’re finally home! Why didn’t you call earlier? Then I would have gone and gotten groceries earlier,” her mom said. Yonghee, who was leaning by the sink, laughs. “Told you she’d mind, Yongsun.” 

Yongsun makes a face and sticks out her tongue. Old playful habits die hard. 

“Well, that’s fine, at least you’re here. I’ll whip up something-no worries, dear, this won’t take long. Byulyi’s also here so I won’t be that long in cooking,” Yongsun’s mom says, already pulling out pans, pots, and cooking oil. 

Yongsun, who was just about to settle in at the dining chair, stands up with a start. “Byulyi?” 

The door opens, with Byulyi holding up two boxes of groceries. Most of it covered her face, but her eyes, which immediately met Yongsun’s, were uncovered. 

“Hi, Yong.” 

“And who are you?” 

Byulyi looked the girl up and down, trying to judge if it’s worth it to be as sassy as she is to her right now. Byulyi shrugged, choosing to keep her cards to herself—in new situations, being kind would be best. 

“Moon Byulyi, I got transferred to this PE class because of some mishap at admin.” In her kindest voice, she continued. “And you are?” 

“Hmmmm. Kim Yongsun. Teaching assistant. Mr. Goo usually doesn’t appreciate people who are late to his class, he’s very much a disciplinarian,” Again, 17-year old Byulyi feels those eyes, judging, those eyebrows disappearing into the girl's hairline. “But it’s not your fault so I think we can remedy that.” 

Byulyi nods, unsure of what to say. The girl, Yongsun, keeps quiet for a second, her wide eyes piercing through Byul’s stoic wall. 

“Well…” Byul starts awkwardly. “Where do I get the swim cap?” 

“Oh yeah, just go in the locker room and there’ll be a basket there. You do have your swim suit right?” Yongsun is snapped back to life and begins leading Byulyi to the deserted locker room. As far as she could see, most of the girls are already lined up by the diving board.

“Yep, got them.” 

“Okay, well, don’t be late next time then. We’ll start drills in two minutes” 

Byulyi looks at Yongsun as she leaves the room. She’s not quite sure what happened, but she also has to figure out how to change into her swimsuit and fit on the swimcap in just two minutes so her thoughts about the teaching assistant zoom right back to the back of her head. Good thing swim class is only once a week.