Work is always considered a necessary portion of succeeding in life. When the time comes and stockholders vote for the preference of a lifetime, the leader emerges soon enough.

 

Sana knows them all too well. She had undergone the process of a difficult transformation, but here she is, living the life of a CEO who has decided to spend the beauty of her youth beyond the confines of beloved Osaka.

 

Switzerland is a wonderful, wonderful place. A breath of fresh air that challenges the atmosphere of the bustling city. Sana can't even recall how it was to live in Japan where she can hardly see the mountains. However, today beats the hopes of dreams of travelling far away as Sana happens to fulfill the goal of a star idealist.

 

"Elena—"

 

The villa is exceptionally quiet. Having to travel alone is a choice of many oppositions, so it's rather right that an attendant could serve as the missing company.

 

A woman approaches the table with her dignified garb, though too fancy for a one-month stay. Sana finds it ridiculous all throughout, but there is no room for complaints in a luxurious vacation home if considering her manners.

 

"Yes, madam?"

 

Sana takes her eyes off the Scott Fitzgerald classic plastered on the desk. It's absurd how her stomach feels so, so empty despite the amount of delicacies prepared for the guest beforehand. Apparently Swiss cuisine does not appeal much to the extraordinary noble, which in itself is one flaw of the countryside. 

 

"Are there any bakeries around here? I'm suddenly craving for Zopf, if I pronounced that right." Sana's eyes narrow, thinking. "Just had to dig for that before I left Japan, you know? " 

 

Elena pauses as well. Her lips pucker accordingly, mindful of her limited knowledge around the vicinity. 

 

"If you overlook straight to the Alps from the balcony, there's a village that you can walk not far from here. I haven't paid a visit there, but I'm guessing there's a local bakery at least." 

 

Sana ignites a spark upon her head. Her ears couldn't even waver from listening; just the thought of eating fresh pastries makes her heart beat in anticipation.

 

"Sounds magnificent. You said I can walk, right?" 

 

"Yes. The path along the way is tapered that no mode of transportation can access. It's a close distance, so there's no need to worry about it nevertheless," Elena maintains a smile towards the end, her disposition professional as ever. 

 

The Great Gatsby is shut gently as Sana rises from her seat."Thank you, Elena. I'll go ahead for the meantime, so do as you please until I return," she bids. 

 

"Shall I assist you on your way? It's best not to get lost."

 

"I'll be alright. There's a reason I came here, anyway." 

 

The status of a renowned CEO is always envied, but it was never displayed with the unenthusiastic agenda that chose to spend the majority of your time. To think that Sana signs papers, types unprecedented decisions on Microsoft Word, and not to mention her vast association with different personalities led her to this very moment.

 

In other words, this is the time she can learn how to spend her life alone. 

 

 

///

 

 

Turns out, the informants weren't wrong about the temperature on the hilltops. The warmth inside the villa embraced Sana to the fullest, until one step out and the coldness of the air just had to the remaining heat too. 

 

Either way, the view has reached the peak of Minatozaki Sana's adult coming-of-age epiphany. The crystal clear lake was still far below, urging anyone above to jump and dive as the fishermen slept on their timber boats in peace. 

 

Hands tremble inside the pockets of her coat. She takes one step forward, and another, while choosing not to let her vision falter away from the waterfalls across. It's the main subject of the expanse; Sana wishes to accumulate that much concentration back at work, but unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. 

 

Sana feels the contrast of the stone pathway below her feet. She notices the moss intercepting between the gaps and the shadows forming beneath the shade of the trees. From a distance, a few cottages flocking the vast area of grass catches her attention, to which she gives a silent cue to plod towards. 

 

The stones continue to form slabs as she nears the main alley. She could see the lake from this position, then realized how the cabins and cottages are constructed on rugged terrain. It's the trail that is somewhat confusing; Sana is uncertain if the path could lead her somewhere because nobody seems to greet her under the brilliant sky. 

 

Sana holds onto the fence accompanying the pathway. She stops at a spot, looks around to see if she could find her answer, then looks forward investigating the nooks and crannies of the site. 

 

She further goes and dives deep until she can compare how large the houses seem to be for a village. Sana has only seen them in the pictures, but now that it has come to this, the structures are way more captivating than she thought. 

 

Unfortunately, Sana doesn't know where to go from here. There are houses left and right, but it seems like everyone's busy attending to their countryside jobs. 

 

Sana grows puzzled of the tranquility, and it's never right to knock on strangers' doors especially when you're standing on foreign land. So when the opportunity comes in a materializing bicycle, Sana doesn't hesitate to raise an arm in order to gain some attention. 

 

But that was wrong, much to her expectations. The mini bells ring, signifying how surprised the biker is at the sudden appearance, and Sana's considered a daredevil to even stand upon her way. 

 

When Sana realizes at the last minute, she struggles to bounce away due to abrupt second decisions. A risen arm is all she could muster. 

 

Wheels grind and shoes scrape the texture of the trail — the bike comes to a full stop. 

 

"I'm so sorry," the biker hops off, walking over to Sana, "are you hurt?" 

 

Sana opens her eyes to a young woman, milky skin and golden locks. 

 

"I'm not. I'm okay," Sana repeats, voice rising in reassurance.

 

The woman releases a sigh of relief. 

 

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't mind where I was going." 

 

Sana only stares from then on, still reluctant if she could take this opportunity correctly. 

 

"Are you perhaps—" The woman gazes back, analyzing Sana's semblance. Her fingers wrap around the handles tighter when she continues, "—a tourist?" 

 

"Yes, yes. I'm actually, um, looking for a bakery. Is there one around here?" 

 

"Oh, great!" Joy fills the corners of the woman's mouth. Tiny crescents painted on her face also pique Sana's interest, to which she soon regards as lovely. 

 

The woman hops on the bike again. "It's a bit far from here so hop on, I can take you there." 

 

Sana dismisses the fact that she doesn't know if she would bother to comply. She's here, anyway, so why turn back? 

 

The bike weighs twice as much when Sana sits behind, making herself comfortable before the aching starts to race. 

 

"Hold tight, okay?" 

 

And so she does in fright. Sana hopes the woman doesn't mind the peculiar contact.

 

 

///

 

 

Switzerland is truly a beautiful place. When all she's seen is from the limited eyeshot of her balcony, the country then proceeds to gape in awe. 

 

She didn't think how amazing it'd feel to ride a bike across the village. The wind just happens to take her away, too. 

 

"Where are you from?" The woman asks, and Sana can notice the increasing effort she'd exert to pedal. 

 

"Japan." Her voice maximizes in volume due to the rushing breeze. Hopefully they can have a proper conversation otherwise. 

 

"I rarely meet tourists from Japan. Your English is good, too." 

 

They pass a few structures and a church, even. Sana's tight hold digs when they pedal onto bumps and curved routes. 

 

"I'm Dahyun, by the way." 

 

There's a pause before Sana can respond. 

 

"Sana."

 

Dahyun's eyes are locked on the path, including her concentration. 

 

"Sorry! I didn't quite catch that." 

 

"My name is Sana," she repeats, louder this time. "You don't look like from here yourself." 

 

"My parents are from South Korea." Dahyun pedals through a narrow alleyway, passing by homes in close range with Sana also having to raise her feet just to avoid hitting the potted plants and mini gardens placed near the doors. 

 

Dahyun slows her cycle to take the chance to look over her shoulder and ask, "Are you alright? Should I slow down?" 

 

Sana shakes her head. "It's fine, don't worry about me." 

 

Her occupation never required any sort of domestic activity. Now it's purely comical for any employee to see their boss in this state, let alone hitchhiking on a stranger's bike just to find a bakery. The boss, although vulnerable on the carrier, can't see the need to view it like that; she's a tourist like any other and Switzerland is a place full of liberated people. 

 

It's only right to adapt. 

 

 

///      

Sana doesn't realize how far they've come until the bicycle stops and her soles touch the ground. 

 

"We're here."

 

Dahyun parks the bike on the side as Sana reads the small letters carved on the sides of the exterior. 

 

Bäckerei Ermächtigen

 

"Backe...rei?" The words come out in disarray from Sana's tongue. 

 

"Empower Bakery." It's good that Sana has a native for a company this time because if it wasn't for her lack of knowledge towards the language, her panic would have gone haywire. 

 

Dahyun's eyes get thinner and thinner by the time the sun hits in a bothersome angle. Sana could no longer read through the rays either. 

 

"Come on in!" Dahyun opens the opaque doors as she gestures for her guest to enter. 

 

 

///      

"Migrate?" Sana can't help but to keep on chewing on the freshly-baked pastry. Its taste is unparalleled, exceptional. She has never eaten a bread too refreshing for her taste buds. "This is so good — just thought I'd say." 

 

"Yep." Dahyun stops to take a bite off her own bread, taking her time similarly. "My parents separated when I was four so I ended up with my father who chose to live here in Switzerland. The story's on another level of discord that I can't even bother to ask my father about it." 

 

"Oh, sorry about that." Sana's bites come off slowly now, and Dahyun's not sure if she's trying to savor the flavor or showing the empathy she's somehow emitting. 

 

"All things bright and beautiful," Dahyun sing-songs, her spirit opposing that of Sana's. "Almost every other tourist had asked the same question. I look too independent, don't I?" 

 

The only thought that could shape Sana's mind is curiosity. Uncanny it was — interacting with a bizarre personality — until Sana remembers a that one quote from a brochure she once read about entrepreneurship: "Let the strange enter and the conventional leave."

 

Has life always been that conventional for her? Signing papers, giving orders... they're part of the same routine each passing day. 

 

But today is Tuesday, she thinks. She's not stuck behind her desk signing papers or giving orders, instead she's eating Switzerland's village bread and communicating with Switzerland's village locals. 

 

Those alone should be strange enough. 

 

A man passes by, carrying a basket of who knows, and waves in their direction. Dahyun waves back, and Sana could certainly see the similarities in their features. 

 

"Your father?" 

 

"Ahuh." Dahyun leans on her seat, following her old man's route and then yells, "She loves your bread!" 

 

"Really?!" Her father responds from another room though his voice was loud enough for the whole space to hear. "Freut mich, das von einem hübschen zu hören!"

 

Barked laughter explodes through the bakery, in courtesy of Dahyun. 

 

"What?" Sana's gaze switches from the door to the room and to Dahyun, who can't seem to hold the biggest smile. "What did he say?" 

 

"He said he's glad to hear that you like it." Dahyun eats the last bits of her bread and continues, "He called you a pretty one, too." 

 

"Oh." The same smile that was once on Dahyun's face transfers to Sana's, embarrassment beginning to creep up. "This is embarrassing. Thank you." 

 

It should no longer cause a stir in Sana's ego whenever her complexion is given credit. She's a woman with beautiful lips and intimidating eyes, and those features are notable themselves. 

 

A successful woman with a stunning physique. Only little girls could yearn for the same future. 

 

But Sana's face is bare and so is her soul. Receiving compliments outside her workplace now seems even too humiliating to hear. 

 

Or maybe Sana is not used to it.

 

"How about you? How's life in Japan?" Sana didn't realize how much she spaced out until Dahyun returned with two glasses of water. 

 

"You'd never see the land lay low." Sana drinks. "This is the only time I get to have a vacation."

 

"It's great you chose Switzerland." 

 

"Well, you know," The table shakes beneath Sana's arms as she leans, "I've been to Las Vegas, Milan, Brisbane, and even New Delhi but not once I flew without a document in my bag. Switzerland is the first to take it out of the luggage."

 

"You're a businesswoman," Dahyun assumes now upon listening. Her face dampens at the thought, of how much stress Sana carried before she arrived. "I hope everything's alright so far now that you're here." 

 

"I'm having a wonderful time, actually."

 

"Then that's enough to keep the longing." 

 

Sana isn't good with words. Words that escape her lips and words that cascade others' tongue. No matter the way, she never understood why they chose to dodge speaking without effort.

 

There's a homesick feeling once Dahyun smiles. It didn't reach her eyes, but it still sent a message across. 

 

Sana doesn't need to understand the words anymore. 

 

 

///      

It's early in the morning and the sun has its schedule to meet the day. 

 

Sana opens up the curtains to see the dim curvatures of the mountains as the sun greets from behind, rays beginning to paint the horizon skies. 

 

Sleep has gotten the best of her for the rest of the night. Eight hours is enough, and soon, the alarm is bound to hammer your ears with the irritating buzz. 

 

But the buzz is late to surprise for the chickens crow somewhere out in the meadow, way ahead of Sana's device. 

 

It's only right to give the chickens justice by waking up. The locals probably start their day at the same time. 

 

Just a bother now that her phone rings again — a morbid notification from FaceTime. 

 

Sana grimaces before the screen pops a familiar, vexatious face. 

 

("Miss Minatozaki, what a pleasant day.")

 

"It's four A.M. here, what do you need?" Sana rubs her eyes and adjusts the screen brightness. 

 

("Oh goodness, please forgive me. I should have recalled.") Panic soon charges on the opposing line, in which the boss does not miss. 

 

"It's fine, Mr. Takeda. I presume it's something of importance?" 

 

The screen transitions into a bright, hellish sight of the open sky in Japan. Sana thought that lowering the brightness is satisfactory for eye protection, but surely this is just too hurtful. 

 

("To be honest with you, I don't believe there's anything essential for me to tell. However, I have someone here who is a bit thrilled to share.") 

 

"Who?" 

 

The sky disappears from the screen and Sana has never been thankful. 

 

She jinxed that. 

 

("Goodmorning, Minatozaki!") 

 

Sana enters the balcony with a scrunching appearance. This is indeed the most disturbing goodmorning to start her day. 

 

"Momo, what the hell?" 

 

The woman does not respond in a few seconds with her having to ask the assistant to give them some privacy. 

 

("I know, I know. I should have called you on my phone but I figured this would be a better surprise.") 

 

Sana's eyebrows disgraces her morning look when she analyzes the background of the scene. 

 

"Are you in my office?" 

 

("Yes. Does it bother you?") 

 

"It does. Get your out of there." 

 

("C'mon Sana, I taught you better than that. Mina would be so disappointed.") 

 

"If there's anyone I want to see right now, it's not you. So if Mina's there, tell her I love her more." 

 

The balcony is wide enough to fit a coffee table in the middle. Sana takes a seat, places the phone on the surface, and takes out a hair tie. 

 

("Convince me you own a company right now.") Momo's voice resonates like a radio. It's annoying, but Sana admits that it's the only sound that takes her home. 

 

"Yeah? And I'm doing better than you," Sana mocks once her hair is tied. "Let me see Mina. I miss her." 

 

("She's having a talk with the strategic planning team. We're planning to dominate your business, Sana.") 

 

"Sure, go ahead and do that. I'm tired. Tell the stockholders to vote Mina for CEO. It's an order."

 

Momo takes a drink from her seat before she answers, ("That's purely inappropriate. How about me?") 

 

Sana shrugs with a laugh. "Beg my mom to take you back to business school. It's terrifying to think you manage a career too, you know?" 

 

The screen zooms into Momo's face, but Sana's sure it's just her trying to look intimidating. 

 

("You are a literal tragedy, Minatozaki Sana. I am going to fly there just to smack the wits out your head.") 

 

Sana's laughter roars beyond the sunrise. She's never felt this much entertainment since she stepped foot on the foreign land. Now that she thinks about it, she may have gone too far about learning things outside the comfort zone. 

 

Wide awake, Sana finally locks her gaze on the rising sun. 

 

"Cheering for you." She stands up to return to the bedroom. "Now if you excuse me, I need to go and grab myself a cheesecake." 

 

On the screen, Momo seems to have ceased herself from speaking, only managing to stare toward. It only takes a moment for Sana to pause, too.

 

("Tell me if you're done with the screenshot,") she suddenly says. 

 

Sana chuckles. "What?" 

 

("Stop being a kid and just say you miss me. Go on, I'll pose.") Momo smiles back, light laughter emerging in between. 

 

"You look downright awful today," Sana quips after she takes the screenshot.

 

("You look just as bad.") Momo seems to be walking, the previous background no longer evident behind. ("Now go get yourself a cheesecake.") 

 

"Mhm."

 

("Take care of yourself. Eat a lot and enjoy the freedom. Love you.") 

 

Momo puckers her lips on the screen. Sana mimics the action then makes a kiss sound. 

 

"I will. Listen to your words as well, bimbo. Kiss Mina for me. Love you too." 

 

The call ends with both women waving, smiling, wishing they could hug each other right there and then. 

 

///  

 

It's always cold in the morning. The breeze is stronger before the sun comes up, Sana knows that, but boy is it too chilly when you're residing next to the Alps. 

 

An hour later, she wishes her scarf could provide more warmth than it can. A few more minutes and she'll have to wrap the clothing around her entire head. 

 

Judging from the pamphlets, it's a good idea to go out this time of the day. Let the sun grant the strength you need for a better start — another basic entrepreneurship notion — even if Sana starts to think otherwise. 

 

Truthfully, Sana rarely listens to the quotes. It just so happens that her stomach is craving, yearning for that pastry yesterday. 

 

It's difficult to get by when you're a tourist, a foreigner. Sana had to stand on the exact same spot where she almost got tossed off the mountain by a bike just to navigate through the village all over again. 

 

She remembers a few nooks and crannies where they passed by. There are those mini gardens near the thresholds, potted plants waiting for the sunlight to pour among them. 

 

Memories don't entirely last. Like the route to the bakery, Sana can no longer remember the remaining steps. Only until an old man walks out his lovely home, back arched with a cane for support, there Sana musters the courage to approach his porch. 

 

"Hello? Excuse me," she pardons gently.

 

The man holds onto the railings, eyes narrowing towards the surprising guest. 

 

"Dan?" His voice sounds strained that his age could be older than Sana thought. The answer says a lot if she can tell. 

 

"Apologies, sir, but I believe you got the wrong person," Sana laughs. "I'm a tourist and I was wondering if I could ask where the bakery is?" 

 

His mouth gapes as his finger rises. "Oh, the bakery. Yes. They sell the finest bread in the village. Everyone loves them, no matter young or old like me." 

 

Sana believes. She remembers how exceptional the flavor was that she swore it couldn't be matched to just any other factory bun.

 

The old man ambles with his cane to reach near the steps of the porch. 

 

"You're asking where it is, aye? Now you see from here," He raises an arm towards a certain direction, "Turn left and you'd meet the plaza. If you see a flower shop around, the bakery is built behind that old fella."

 

Sana nods, retracing the path with her vision. "Thank you so much!" 

 

"It's only right that bakery receives the exposure it deserves. Hope you have the best time." 

 

 

///

 

 

Mornings are only fulfilled when you satisfy your body's needs. Some people reach the necessity of breakfast, while some wake in the afternoon after convincing themselves for the umpteenth time it's too early to get up. 

 

Sana thanks herself for not being a part of those some. Five A.M. and she meets Dahyun who seems to be fiddling with the lock of the door of the bakery. 

 

It's cold, really cold. On the mountains where elevation affects the temperature, Sana thinks that Dahyun has to succumb to the same condition everyday. She looks like she's heading off somewhere, cladded with her alabaster parka and a bag that appears to be nowhere near filled. 

 

Dahyun leaves the door alone and Sana happens to arrive at the right time. The former stops on her tracks when she squints, struggling to identify the figure in the distance, only to recognize the biggest fan of her father's delicacy.

 

"Sana?" Dahyun looks from left to right then skips over, now only a few inches away. "Hey, good morning. What brings you here this early?" 

 

"I was planning to eat breakfast but I wasn't sure what to eat so I went here," explained Sana. 

 

Dahyun blinks in seconds before she looks back at the bakery. "Oh, sorry. We're closed two hours later than usual today."

 

Sana follows her line of vision. "What a bummer." 

 

"But there's a café located on the other side of the town. Their employees are prompt and I'm sure tourists like you would prefer to eat breakfast there." It's back — Dahyun's smile — as well as those crescents Sana considers as her closest semblance to home. 

 

"How about you? You look booked and busy under all that." 

 

Dahyun pulls on the lining of her parka, straightening her fit as she says, "I'm off to the city to fetch some supplies today, hence the opening time." 

 

"On your own?" 

 

"Me, myself, and I, ma'am." 

 

Sana's lips crack in a laugh, now thankful to have comprehended the English language. Otherwise, she would never get to register Dahyun's sense of humor. 

 

Dahyun nods next while she raises her hand for a wave. "I better get going. Have a erfreulich breakfast." Her wave stills when her hand goes for a quick salute. 

 

"Hold on—"

 

In Sana's mind is a mental schedule for today, each task box empty without a single mark. It's a good sign. So with the cold air entering her lungs, Sana gathers as much courage as she can to say, "Can I come with?" 

 

On the flip side, the air doesn't seem to bother Dahyun. She's standing, fingers clutching the strap while her eyebrows raise in surprise. 

 

"I'll pay for the ride," Sana adds. 

 

Dahyun hums in an incomprehensible manner as a reply. She deems the situation abrupt, unplanned. 

 

One minute — Dahyun's face lights up. 

 

 

///

 

 

From the silent dawn to the brilliant morning, the sun gazes down on peaks and curvatures; Switzerland's geography is furnished with gold underneath the blazing beams. 

 

And in between the valley is a train, with its metals resonating to prove the functionality of Swiss nature. 

 

The sunshine passes through the windows, blinding whoever gazes upon them. In such a case, Sana avoids these scenarios; those shades she utilizes to cover her eyes are all that's left to guarantee the safety of her vision. 

 

It's baffling now that Dahyun doesn't appear to look perturbed by the exposure. Her palm is longingly plastered on the surface of the window, including her pale face adds a bit more recipe to the problem. 

 

"Can you even see what's outside?" Sana asks, eyes gracing the scenery every now and then. 

 

"Lots and lots of mountains. As a tourist, you should appreciate these more often." 

 

"And yet you seem to be the one who appreciates them the most."

 

"Once in a blue moon I take the train." Dahyun releases herself from the window. She turns on her seat, facing Sana. "Cabs are essentially the fastest way to get to Zurich."

 

"Why didn't we take the cab, then?" 

 

"When you said you'd pay for the ride, I considered reducing the costs." 

 

"Oh gosh." Everything else doesn't matter when Sana finds out Dahyun's conservative ways of taking an approach. It's the second day since they've met and from that time in the bakery, Dahyun never failed to make Sana laugh. 

 

Sitting opposite to a foreign acquaintance should be deemed out-of-the-book. Yet, Dahyun is so welcoming that Sana feels how good it is to adapt. 

 

"I mean, I hope you don't mind the three-hour long ride. A cab could take us one, but hey, it did save your budget." 

 

"Dahyun, look at me," all before Sana takes her shades off, and Dahyun does as she says because there's nowhere else to look now, "I can pay for that. Pay for anything. You didn't have to starve your routine for a woman like me." 

 

"I figured, you know?" Dahyun jokes it off anyway, staying true to her word. "But save yourself for the view. You won't be able to see these inside the cab." 

 

Sana directs herself to the mountains, to the gaps where the sun shines through. 

 

Perhaps taking the train is the perfect decision, or else Sana wouldn't be able to witness Dahyun's determination for a woman like her. 

 

 

///

 

 

Zurich is a majesty of its own. From the overflowing surprises in detail to the distinct styles of the city's structures, it's as if Sana stepped inside a pretentious novel from the eighties. 

 

It was her choice to stay in the countryside. Figuring that the city could be too loud for preference, all Sana could think now is how wrong she was. Sure, she didn't like the crowds (and how suffocating they seem to be), but now that she's seen the shape outside the picture, everything else seems more significant that they usually did.

 

Now Sana feels herself under the shade of a wide umbrella with the sunglasses on display. She's waiting for Dahyun while she goes to retrieve the assigned resources. 

 

Normally, there's a list of things Sana should be doing. An itinerary, perhaps, but it was easily considered as unnecessary for the trip. That was Sana to talk about — who decides and does things on her own. Though in Zurich she's rather lost, mind blank of which way to go. 

 

Answers why she's so desperate for Dahyun to come back soon. Zurich is a big, big place for all things that Sana couldn't keep herself idle by her coffee. 

 

She takes pictures instead; of the tram, of the large church dominating the view, of the pretty sight where Dahyun is suddenly captured in the center of the image. 

 

"And I thought you'd be wandering around." The teasing tone didn't go unnoticed the more Dahyun closes the distance. 

 

Sana eyes the bag placed on the table, nowhere near empty this time. "I'm known for being patient," she says as if the sardonic harmony of her words were similarly ignored. 

 

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing." Dahyun makes herself comfortable on the adjacent, meanwhile. "If you were to linger, it's best if you drive yourself in circles. Promise, you'll get somewhere." 

 

"Is that supposed to be a joke? A Swiss joke?" 

 

"No," Dahyun cackled, "You look too smart for a joke. I'd rather not try." 

 

"You're vaguely honest for someone you've never seen your whole life until yesterday." Sana taps on the metal top. 

 

"This is Switzerland, Sana." And if that didn't cause any sort of incredulity, the next statement does, "Living here is expensive. People stay for one day and spend dollars each hour. In your case, you'll leave with nothing else to bring back. My sincere nature at least could be your lone souvenir." 

 

Sana tries to dwell on each syllable, but she ends up tying the words together in a matter of insignificance.

 

"That was a joke." 

 

Sana picks herself up. "I figured." She thanks her for the catch. 

 

"I'm glad you did," Dahyun yawns as she stands up. "C'mon, I'll be your tour guide while we're at it." 

 

There's nothing else to say. A stranger is a stranger, and Dahyun was right. 

 

 

///

 

 

They spend the day going around, gazing at the elaborate shops. It didn't help when Sana wanted to buy every little thing she saw which drew her to go for it anyway. 

 

Dahyun would ask Sana to slow down in the politest way possible, but Sana would only answer: "This is my one way ticket to Zurich!"

 

It doesn't really matter how much Sana would spend, no, she never contemplates about such minuscule elements. Dahyun did say living in Switzerland is expensive; it's only proper that she gets to incorporate the fact through the amount of paper bags she's carrying. 

 

"Goodness, Miss Sana!" Dahyun rushes to grab ahold of some, decreasing the weight on Sana's arms. "This is boundless. You should have told me you had a pocket full of gold when I said you're a businesswoman." 

 

"It's discourteous to brag." A leader with a civil character. "This is not a notable topic, either." 

 

"But it's a fun fact." Dahyun struggles to carry the bags in her place, along with the bag full of imported ingredients transfixed behind. "It's good to know now." 

 

 

///

 

 

They settle outside another flamboyant cafe, in which Dahyun believes is genuinely extravagant for a shop that sells blueberry cheesecake as its main attraction. 

 

She knew she'd eat one nonetheless. With Sana's over the top taste in content, she'd never hear the end of what it's like to live in Japan. 

 

"Hear me out, but your twisted bread is way ahead of these." Sana happens to mean what she said by the end of a bite. 

 

"I thought so." The sweetness of the cake broadens Dahyun's distaste for extensive sugar. Her teeth might as well shatter upon the bites because you can barely even taste the flavor of the food — Dahyun thinks. 

 

"I'm glad we agree on this." 

 

Sana retreats from finishing the dish. The plate is nearly vacant with the remaining pieces of blueberry lying around. 

 

Dahyun mirrors, but this time, finishing her dish. It wasn't that bad, she convinced then, and yet she still considered it as a disaster for a recipe. 

 

"But hey, why don't you talk about yourself? Unless you want to surprise me more with bittersweet valuables you have under your coat." 

 

"I told you, there's nothing notable about myself to talk about. I live off a financial occupation, what gives?" 

 

"Financial occupation? Hold on, are you like an important businesswoman?" 

 

Sana denies by shaking her head. It's getting a bit difficult now that she has to explain the stability of her status, especially when there was a plan to enable a new individuality among the Alps. "You think of me too highly," she scoffs. 

 

"Must I repeat that you will leave in a matter of time?" It's another one of her ungodly gestures. "Tell me anything and everything, I'd stay here with those alone." 

 

"Anything and everything." Sana sighs. 

 

But it's useless. Sana did not grow up to learn how to express herself, if that's what Dahyun was referring to. 

 

Yet Sana had two days. Two days to realize that there's more to the pinnacle of having a reposing trip. 

 

 

///

 

 

Days flew over time without missing the beat of Dahyun's company. 

 

Sana disposed the original itinerary very quickly. Elena thought it was done without much thinking, hence her activity inside the villa didn't require much except from cleaning the rooms and preparing the meals. 

 

Aside from her usual walks, Sana's presence was found mandatory for a sudden business seminar in Sion. An international Swiss partner discovered her visit, explaining his ecstatic disposition towards the decision to request a Japanese prominence over. 

 

A tiring arrival is all Sana can display, even if there was a vow to not involve herself in any work proceedings. 

 

Instead of heading home, she heads straight to the village. The setting sun signifies the start of dusk, still it's nothing new for someone who stays at the office for a full time circle. 

 

"Didn't expect you'd come later on." Dahyun welcomes her first — slim waist visible through the tight tie of her apron — albeit skittish under the comfort of the yellow light.

 

"I got myself in an excruciating situation, best not to ask." 

 

"I won't, then," Dahyun says. She proceeds behind the bread display, grabbing a tray along. "Let's wind over twister and call it a day." 

 

 

///

 

 

Forging an artificial personality is extremely dismissive to begin with. It doesn't help you fit in, nor it doesn't define what you really are as a person outside the dimension. 

 

Personalities interchange for someone who meets a variety of people that lack sense of character. According to justified theory, humans evolve according to the transition of environments. 

 

In Japan, Sana is a mastermind of many logical things. In Switzerland, Sana is a lost, terribly unentertained woman who has no control over the absence of leisure. 

 

She'd stare at the mountains and think how boring life would be if she didn't plaster such a formal persona. There will be reasons why she started troublesome affairs in the first place, including the indefinite duration of how long she'll be able to keep this up.

 

Sana goes to the village everyday, way before the sun rises just to eat breakfast. Turns out, Dahyun's impression of an early bird was debunked right after she encountered her father cleaning the interior alone. 

 

Dahyun wakes four hours later at eight. It's normal to snatch some pastries for a first meal, but not so normal when she sees Sana inside the kitchen using the stand mixer. 

 

"Oh so you're a baker now?" 

 

Sana stops the mixer at the right time. "Yes, because the baker's daughter whose only obligation is to help is nowhere to be found."

 

"Even my father wouldn't complain as petty as that," Dahyun ridicules. 

 

"You're more of a tragedy than I thought." 

 

Dahyun circles the kitchen to grab an extra apron from the storage cabinet because from first glance, her respective apron is very much welcoming against the warmth of Sana's front. 

 

Sana never expected to attend anyone's business here on foreign land. Her concerns alone were intact with weeks of particular days off. Well, baking is the least of those concerns and she's trying not to mess it up too bad. 

 

"How long did you mix this?" She hears Dahyun's voice rising into proximity. 

 

Upon Sana's hands is an iron bowl, inside is the stand mixer's product. 

 

"I'm guessing three minutes." 

 

A pregnant pause.

 

"You don't know how to bake." 

 

"I don't know how to bake." All the more hysterical when Dahyun spots Sana's phone below, displaying a recipe for her sacred Butterzopf. 

 

Dahyun takes the phone to read. "Dad didn't give you the recipe book?" 

 

Sana happens to slide the book across the counter. "He did, but everything is written in German." 

 

It takes time before Dahyun lowers the phone. She opens the book instead on a bookmarked page. 

 

"Toss that in the sink," says the foreigner as she passes by to grab another bowl. 

 

"What? We can't waste ingredients." 

 

"With your carelessness, we can." 

 

Sana pours the entire bowl into the sink. It was at this moment that she realized baking is never a case for an analytical person. 

 

 

///

 

 

There was always a point in time where Sana felt perplexed. Everything is confusing, most especially Dahyun's personal motives to incorporate touchy-feely gestures along every possible procedure. 

 

Her finger tracing the sentences, Dahyun instructs, "You take note of the yeast, hm? Mind the appearance." 

 

If Dahyun's palm wasn't easily plastered on her shoulder blade, Sana would have paid attention. 

 

"Okay." 

 

They work together, hand in hand. Dahyun translates the essential pieces from the recipe book and Sana acts according to her instructions. 

 

Observing others wasn't difficult, just like observing the sudden change of Dahyun's disposition. Though her actions were straightforward, her expression yelled otherwise; eyes sharp, brows ironed flat, and her directing voice caught Sana's mind in a haywire. 

 

While waiting by the oven, Sana wonders if being a baker is Dahyun's natural occupation. There's no one else working in the bakery aside from the father-daughter pair, and that thought alone raises her admiration. 

 

Sana finishes her batch by the time she completes her last braid. Dahyun follows an hour later. 

 

"I think you did a pretty swell job." 

 

"Why? Did you underestimate me?" Sana frowns mockingly. 

 

Dahyun unties her apron, laughing. "Never did. Now let's put these on the rack." 

 

 

///

 

 

Perhaps there are certain elements to what made Switzerland so beautiful. Sana couldn't dread off wondering, so she finds happiness in the simplest things; like through the adamant soil, the edged tips of the mountains, or through pretty brown eyes inviting enough for a swim. 

 

They should have a picnic, Dahyun proposed. A summer picnic beside the lake isn't so bad now that everything else is visible. 

 

"We got along quickly." Sana chews on a cookie, one from Dahyun's batches. Lying on one's back never felt so amazing — and, they're both lying, gazing at the horizon, at the good of the day as it hopes in the afternoon. 

 

"We're grownups. We smile on our first days then laugh on our seconds." 

 

She was right — Dahyun, who was always Dahyun. Days and days and Sana never met anyone so sincere, so eccentric. 

 

"What happens on our thirds?" 

 

It's a bug of a question, but it's also rational to ask. 

 

"We cry," Dahyun answers, already propping on her elbows. 

 

She'd look at Sana then, with the same grin she'd show ever since from the first time. 

 

Dahyun, the Swiss absurdity. Candy eyes, milky skin, dainty fingers — Sana grew to admire them. Every little bit. 

 

"Of the fourths, fifths?" 

 

Sana knew she had to keep going. 

 

But Dahyun would leave it with a laugh. 

 

All that's left is Sana, under the shade of Dahyun's figure hindering the sun. She looks straight at the blue lake in silence, standing — hesitating. 

 

"Let's swim." 

 

But it was so sudden that Sana couldn't process. She jolts to Dahyun dashing down the hill with the amount of obstinacy left in her willpower. Last steps of reluctance before she jumps into the water. 

 

"Dahyun!" 

 

Sana runs, runs, runs. They would have to leave the empty tupperwares anyway, or the picnic blanket that's light enough for the wind to carry. 

 

The water is so serene, appearing adamant as the soil. She'd have to try harder if she wants to find Dahyun anywhere. 

 

Then, a head pops from below. Hair wet, Dahyun wipes droplets off her face. She waves from there, giddy, just as Sana waves back from the ground. 

 

"You won't swim?" Dahyun asks. "The water isn't cold." 

 

And the lake is vast, terribly. It frightens Sana to the point of averting her eyes, but Dahyun's outlandish head is making it hard for her to do so. 

 

"I didn't bring—" Sana stops there. Looking down, she knew she'd have to learn how to experience the sheer prospect of having fun. Dahyun has brought her to Zurich, to the propinquity of the valleys, to the comfort of the lofty skies; this could be more than what a foreigner would like to show. 

 

So she jumps. A splash. Dahyun laughs again as she swims near, keeping Sana's body afloat. 

 

"As long as we don't swim near the dock, we're fine." 

 

"As if I'd swim to the center of this monster." Sana feels the water pressing against her chest, her lungs. 

 

Behind them both is what catches Sana's attention all over again — the mountains, ever so wonderful and bizarre. They never cease to make her lips gape in awe, even if the water is threatening to enter if she didn't maintain her posture soon. 

 

"Okay—" Arms around her waist, Sana swims in humiliation, too. This irresponsibility has brought her to clench the expanse of Dahyun's small shoulders, who in return is also struggling to raise both their figures. 

 

"You okay?" Dahyun's hands won't move, but her fingers would tap beneath the waters on Sana's clothed waist. 

 

"Good, fine. I feel amazing," Sana prattles in accident, subsequently blaming the chill of the air for it. 

 

"Is that sarcasm?" 

 

"No, no. Of course not." Dahyun tilts her head a little, ear nearly touching Sana's knuckles. That moment she realizes and lets go. 

 

Even if Dahyun was smaller compared to Sana's stature, her strength was that unparalleled beneath. Sana's feet start to adapt to the depth, as well as her arms to which Dahyun takes as a greenlight to let her be. 

 

The distance between them expands when Dahyun swims a little away. "Now will you take your time to enjoy?" 

 

"I am enjoying." 

 

"You nearly drowned." 

 

"I am enjoying," Sana retaliates nevertheless. It's just sole proof that there's nothing else that could rob off her contentment. 

 

No wonder Sana had a distaste for the outdoor pool back at the villa. It was always lonely with Harrison required to wait nowhere near her vicinity. 

 

Once they have both managed to adapt to the pressure of the water, Sana contemplates from then. All topics have been discussed since the first day, all questions answered, all stories told. Dahyun never once missed a simple phrase to attend Sana's deliberation. 

 

It was Sana who had nothing to say. Dahyun starts and everything else comes in tow. 

 

So, she tries: "Is baking the only thing you're used to doing?" 

 

Dahyun is floating underneath the hovering trees. Not that far, not that near either. 

 

"I used to translate manuscripts for a municipal press in Verona." 

 

"You went to Italy?" 

 

"For a job, yes." Dahyun stops to duck her head, bubbling at the process. The distance fades as she swims closer, right beside. 

 

Sana opts to swim near the land. 

 

"The man who owned the company was a novelist from Berlin. And I was recruited in Zurich, where he stayed for what he called an inspiration trip."

 

Neither is absolute as to presuming if the air is getting colder or hotter. Around in the afternoon should roast them under the summer sun, and Sana's had about enough swimming in circles while she waits for Dahyun to share a bit more. 

 

Plodding up the hill, Sana grabs her sandals resting on the blanket. The lush, green grass impale softly beneath her feet, all dirtied from the wet soil. Dahyun follows with her own shoes, dripping and feeling the breeze straight from the condition of the water. 

 

The wind has struck the pores on their skin, causing Dahyun to tremble. Noticing in haste, Sana looks around, analyzing the field. 

 

"Actually, hold on." 

 

Dahyun hears incredulously. Though Sana has marched away, she maintained her stance by keeping the tupperware and folding the blanket. 

 

Until Sana returns, followed by snatching the folded blanket on Dahyun's palm to wrap the material around her. 

 

"Sana, what is this?" Dahyun chuckles even after she finds the sudden action uncanny.

 

"My villa is just a short walk from here." Sana secures the blanket by tying the tips below Dahyun's stomach altogether. "Let's dry ourselves there." 

 

"A villa? There's a villa in this area?" 

 

"Yes, and I suggest you continue your autobiography from where you left off." 

 

They understand now, most especially Sana. If she can't use her words to vocalize the greatest epiphany, then she would have to act as if the message of the mountains can come across — through tying a blanket around someone for warmth. 

 

 

///

 

 

Marching for a hundred meters while dripping wet is not the best idea. 

 

"Elena!" 

 

In the midst of Sana's intolerable dislike for her muddy soles, Dahyun only gapes in awe at the extensive use of windows for the walls, at the pristine ceiling, or at the abstract paintings appearing to have been sold off at an auction. 

 

The place was far more different from the residences at her village. It's a huge disbelief for someone who lives close by to have not heard of any construction of an expensive vacation home like this. 

 

Dahyun knew Sana kept money, but she should have persisted to translate the cash to gold. 

 

Elena sprints from the kitchen wearing an apron. "Madam— oh!" 

 

"Can you please accompany my guest to the main bathroom? Prepare some clothes for the both of us, as well." Sana turns to look behind at Dahyun who's still stuck in the state of admiration. "Dahyun, hey." 

 

The girl returns, almost unrecognizable as the bafflement paints her complexion whole. 

 

"Do you mind?" Asks Sana, face just as pale. 

 

"Mind what?" 

 

Eyes switch from the servant's presence to her very condition. The silence didn't sit well either, so she takes it into consideration to nod anyway. 

 

"Oh, no. I don't mind. Thank you." 

 

Sana gives her sandals to Elena, but not before asking Dahyun for hers. She says a few more words until she lumbers away, leaving wet trails towards the staircase. 

 

"This way, madam." Elena assists the supposed guest to an opposing room where the main bathroom is located. 

 

 

///

 

 

"Dahyun isn't finished?" 

 

A towel upon her crown, Sana spots Elena preparing the vacuum. 

 

"She's taking her time."

 

No one would have anticipated anyone else to use the main bathroom, or for Sana to use the installed bathroom inside her bedroom because for the sake of occupation, it was definitely useless. 

 

(The main bathroom was twice as large as the bedroom's. Elena's entirely sure that Sana used it because she deemed it as a concert stage.) 

 

Sana hops from the remaining steps, a bit pleased to have finished first. 

 

Landing by the television, she gazes from the hallway where Dahyun should have walked into. 

 

"Elena." 

 

The vacuum pauses — Elena leans to listen. 

 

"Can you collect all the German and Italian books from the parlor? I remember stacking them in a category before I left." 

 

"Of course, of course."

 

"There isn't much, no need to fret. Just bring them out the veranda if that works for you." Sana smiles. 

 

They were books that Sana received as gifts from Japan before she fled to Switzerland. Her secretary, Takeda, once said they could help her get used to the trends they expressed. 

 

She's not so sure if they were any useful now that she remained. Opened a couple of German but it felt like she never read even the first words. 

 

"I'll return to my room, call my managers. Please Dahyun to the veranda once she's out."

 

For the past days she had not received any orders, Elena's beam is something Sana should get used to. 

 

"I cooked meals. Do you think your guest would like them?" 

 

"She eats cold bread for dinner," The mistress only laughs. 

 

Laugh. She'd laugh at anything about Dahyun. 

 

 

///

 

 

What time is it, exactly? They've spent too much time together under a day, or so it seems. 

 

Yet, the sun doesn't look weary itself. Up and dominant, its brilliance is high over the roof of the veranda. Sana woke up too early, way before Dahyun's eyes opened themselves; though in this hour, she's late enough to see the books opened on the table, a finger in trail of the sentences written. 

 

"A fairytale?"

 

Dahyun shakes her head. "A German textbook." 

 

"What does it say?" Sana sits on the side as she opens her own. 

 

"Fundamentals of history." She turns a page. "All sorts of things, really. I didn't think you'd read any of these." 

 

"I never read them, in truth." Sana pulls up her legs to the edge of the couch, surprisingly finding comfort at the spot. 

 

"That is sad, Sana." 

 

"Sad? You're sad about that?" 

 

"No, but I wish you were. Reading... reading is good." 

 

Dahyun shuts the book to open another one. It's Italian this time, a piece Sana can't comprehend no matter what, despite her various attempts in providing a deeper definition to the final translation. 

 

"This one is a story," Dahyun says after flipping through the pages, observing the frequent use of quotation marks and having to recognize the familiar format. 

 

"Let's assume that's romance." It wasn't particularly an essential comment to give, albeit she was mostly over the frequency of modern takes in romance. 

 

That book is a problem; open it once and you'd never hear the end of it. Even if all scenes were projected through the beautiful language of Italy, there's just no basis for a good plot that goes the same in Japanese. 

 

It was the contents that matter. The meaning, or so Sana thought. She'd always try to dig deep on whatever book it may be. 

 

"It's not..." They both land on the first page — Dahyun leading. "Technically, it's more on introspection. I'd say this is literary fiction in detail, but yes, there is also the usual seasoning of romance." 

 

"That's nice. Might read." 

 

"I can read it for you," Dahyun hums. 

 

Sana lies on the couch at that, wind hitting her bare feet as they lay on the arm. 

 

"That's nice too." 

 

The sun is so bright that it contests the moon's ability to flood Sana's eyelids with sleep.

 

And she's tired. Done all the great things in the morning, slept through the great dreams in the afternoon, and all that might become of the evening. 

 

Great dreams are filled with Dahyun's voice; of her breaths that come in beats, of her words that flow with ease. She'd read the sentence in silence once, then read the same sentence in volume next. 

 

"...E le parole sono dispositivi inutili."

 

Before Sana's eyes close in symphony, they mesmerize at the way Dahyun gazes beyond the gates, over the bands of flowers blooming across the hills. 

 

It's blinding. 

 

Sana falls asleep to Dahyun, Dahyun, Dahyun. 

 

 

///

 

 

Dahyun tries to find a pen, but to no avail. 

 

Elena arrives with food on the tray, yet Dahyun is more than reluctant to ask. 

 

She gets a pen and paper anyway.

 

Elena's cooking was favorable, too.

 

 

///

 

 

Count from one to ten and Sana would return to Zurich once you've exceeded to eleven. 

 

They're back with more time to spare. The train was helpful in many ways, as Dahyun would like to think that Sana gets a hundred times more ecstatic when she stares at the window for three hours. 

 

Apparently, it's Dahyun's job to show her around; Sana promised she'd buy her the city's best pastry if she did. Not that Dahyun could complain, though, since all she's ever heard about Zurich is how fantastic their bakeries are. 

 

She ends up leading her to a bike rental. According to the sign, you can rent a vespa, too.  

 

"Choose wisely, gorgeous."

 

Dahyun has her arms crossed for the meantime, whilst Sana reads the sign all over again. 

 

"You know how to drive a vespa?"

 

"Once." 

 

"Not taking any chances, then." 

 

Sana doesn't hesitate to pull Dahyun inside the rental, already guaranteed with an answer. 

 

 

///

 

 

Turns out, cycling around Zurich perhaps may be the best thing Sana has ever done. 

 

Through streets and alleys, they've gone up 'til down in the city's extensive perimeter. 

 

Sana, on her stimulated pedalling, is not accustomed to using a bicycle. On everyone' s end, she was always nowhere near the steering custom; though her mother had taught her how to ride before her teenage years, it's still quite a long time since she'd place her feet on these iron pedals. 

 

Nevertheless, there's always fun in these careless itineraries. She never expected herself to ride a bike around Switzerland's profoundly exorbitant city, nor think that feeling irresponsible for the day is the best decision in her life. While most days consist of rest, there comes the time where a trip's purpose must be fulfilled. 

 

You'd see stores left and right, front and back — all over the place, really — yet there's still Dahyun who would choose to spend her money on experimental candy if she could. Sana would stop by every clothing store she'd spot, while Dahyun's the supposedly uninterested bodyguard that does nothing but lean on her ride. 

 

However, there's this one shop that not just catches Sana's attention, all remaining adoration left in her eyes. 

 

"Oh my God." Sana overtakes Dahyun in the way as she pedals quicker in comparison. 

 

She hops off, waits for Dahyun to stop alongside. 

 

"My brand," Sana quips when she reads the large sign. Then, she turns to Dahyun, "Oh my God. My brand!" 

 

"Your brand?" 

 

"Yes! Now, you need to see this. Come quick!" 

 

Dahyun helps Sana park the bicycles at the side. Despite the Swiss girl's incredulous opinion on the situation, Sana drags her anyway. 

 

 

///    

Luxury is the least of Dahyun's concerns in life. Though she works hard for sufficient finances, all products are to fund her stability. She'd do jobs if anyone asked, or follow orders if you'd pay a good price, but she'd never justify herself as a woman craving for wealth just because she's living in the countryside for a tragic cause. 

 

Now, this woman, Sana, is served with a shedload of bills on a silver platter. Dahyun should be surprised at first - especially now that Sana has exceeded the maximum week of vacation in an expensive country — but she's not exactly expecting her to go away sooner if she decided to go as much as to pay for more than 27,000 Swiss Francs for this trip. 

 

The only thing Dahyun appreciates about that fact is that she gets to live in the expensive country. 

 

(But she guesses Sana can do that too if she just goes for it.)

 

"They look lovely, don't they?" Sana's mood increased now that she's granted the ability to grip different fabrics that are displayed through pleasing, gentle colors. 

 

Dahyun looks around on her own, admiring one category from another, when she spots that black mockneck sweater exhibited by a mannequin; designed with a small, white outline of the sun by the chest that somehow looks befitting for a winter interlude. 

 

Dahyun walks close to check the price written on the label and—

 

What the . 

 

She stares at the price a little longer until she can feel the presence of someone close.

 

"You like it?" 

 

Sana gazes at the next to her, also admiring the artistry of the clothing. 

 

"There's something to adore about it," Dahyun replies. "I think it's just that distinctive compared to the others." 

 

Turns out, admiring a piece from Sana's brand could have been Dahyun's biggest mistake. After a contemplative silence, a woman appears behind the mannequin; in her uniform's warmth that welcomes both customers with ease, she inquires if they require any assistance. 

 

Sans points to the clothing: "May we have this sweater, please?" 

 

The employee nods before she acts accordingly. 

 

There's not enough time for Dahyun to say furthermore as Sana tries to measure the sweater upon the girl's figure when the employee hands it, stretching the sleeves and estimating the look. 

 

"You'd look good in this." Sana smiles as the sweater retreats on her forearm, never to be exhibited by the mannequin again. 

 

"But that's—" 

 

"My gift for you." 

 

The woman takes the sweater after Sana faces her with the final verdict.

 

They're led to the cashier once they conclude, Dahyun still mesmerized by the circumstance that Sana's paying for her own product. 

 

"You're very lucky, ma'am," the cashier says as she folds the expensive clothing, "This sweater is in high demand; one of the rarest items sold under the line."

 

And then there's Sana, obviously interested in the description, who so meticulously asks, "Why so?" 

 

The sweater is handled with great care as it slips into the paper bag, stamped on it is the logo of the brand. The cashier leans forward, "This is the designer's original output. I heard she had no intention to stock it in Japan so she dispatched the authentic item here in Switzerland." 

 

"Why not stock?" Dahyun intervenes, ears all out despite Sana's motive for a little play. 

 

"Because everyone thought it looked too cheap," The cashier says with sheer confidence that it turns Sana's head toward in speed. 

 

"What do you mean cheap?" Dahyun, in her observant demeanour, is at risk of claiming that Sana's face in current is the epitome of disbelief and disappointment. 

 

Sana breathes lightly, adding, "That's not true at all. Did you see how high-quality this sweater looked?" she taps on the paper bag. "This is what you call luxury, designer, and premium all in one. I don't think there's anything else better than this." 

 

To Dahyun's surprise, the cashier nods in agreement. "Right? I can't believe it either. If there's anyone else who deserves that sweater, it should be you, ma'am." 

 

"I'm glad we're on the same page." Sana takes the paper bag from the counter the moment she receives her change. 

 

Dahyun is uncertain if she said the right words earlier. 

 

 

///

 

 

(That afternoon when Sana and Dahyun left, all the employees gathered around the counter. 

 

"That lady who bought the sweater—" 

 

She opens her phone to show the rest of her co-workers a photo from the brand's official website. 

 

"Nobody talk to me." The cashier's lips go ajar as she stares, analyzing the features of the subject in the photo. 

 

Gasps and regrets emerge from the circle when they finally figure out their biggest slip. 

 

"I'm calling for a goddamn emergency meeting.") 

 

 

///

 

 

Perhaps taking one's time is the solution to every predicament.

 

At first, Sana thought she had everything planned out. There was Elena to come by in the mornings when assistance is yearned, which however also was disregarded as her plans to tuck herself beside Sana was swept away without question. 

 

Sana knew everything that was there to attain; schedule sorted, there was no need to dismiss it. She'd stay for nine weeks max, do anything at will, but all she can think of is nine. 

 

Nine. Nine. Nine. 

 

For all the days she spent with Dahyun, there is a confession that she completely lost count. But the days have gone by so quickly that Sana wishes her acknowledgement for the duration is long gone. 

 

"You never told me you were a fashion designer." 

 

Dahyun's ice cream is composed of kitkat remnants topping vanilla flavor. Sana has cookies and cream with a chocolate cone that tastes half as sweet as a real one. 

 

"I was satisfied with the businesswoman reputation." 

 

Not much to look forward to except for Lake Zurich. Sitting on the promenade is another case of taking their time; if there was Sana to ask, this is an epiphany among many things. Despite the noise and the people that crowded, complaints are useless in a moment so unanticipated. 

 

"You have your own clothing line, too. That explains why you're so... brimmed." 

 

"Debunked. That doesn't explain anything." Sana's protests are hoping for distress. In contrast to her ice cream, she is very much in a bitter state for letting Dahyun bring out the topic. 

 

"Yeah?" The cone once evident on Dahyun's hand is eaten to bits. On the next beat, she places the paper bag on her lap that was once between them. "What does this mean, then?" 

 

Side note, Sana finishes hers too. Her eyes fall on the logo for a while, engaging on a solemn thought; it's nothing special, supposedly a gift. If she tried convincing herself for any other definition, she'd lose on an unreasonable basis. 

 

"I told you, a gift." 

 

Their breaths overtake for a short period of time. Sana can observe Dahyun's reluctant behavior; through her continuous taps on the paper bag, it's as if there was something else she wanted to say. 

 

"Four weeks, Sana," she says as a matter of reminding. "We spent four weeks so far. Don't you think it's too soon?" 

 

Thinking about it sounds unnecessary, but hearing it directly from Dahyun's lips left a wound so deep it was incomprehensible. 

 

To believe that Dahyun would keep count of the days that passed away is indifference beyond faith. 

 

"What does time have to do with this?" A dry laugh escapes. "There's nothing bad about it. I had all the opportunities piled up to end up giving you that. Unless you're telling me that you're assuming—" 

 

"There's nothing to assume," Dahyun was quick to intercept. "I didn't know what you had in mind, so I was trying to ponder." 

 

The sound of the lake was louder than all sounds combined around them. If they let the people talk more than they did, nobody else would have been left to understand what was going on. Sana is trying to ground herself, keeping her feelings intact. To listen is all she could do as of the moment, or to wait for Dahyun who was yet to speak more about the concern. 

 

"I have a lot of things in mind." It sounded more like a confession than a statement of admittance. Though Sana felt honest, she wasn't entirely in the right place to say she'd regret saying. 

 

Dahyun's eyes fixate upon her, cordially capable. "Doesn't hurt to share." 

 

Moreover, it's high noon. Talk a bit about the sun and you'd roast your tongue in return. 

 

"Subtle regards."

 

A hum comes out of a frail beat to take both thoughts away. "Subtle regards shouldn't take as much space in there." 

 

"Yet,they do." Sana stops gazing at the irony of the waters for once and attempts to return the glance. 

 

Everything was in the midst of a contrast. Sana was drowning at the heat of the star while burning at the depths of the lake; and even if the land caught her in between, she'd still choose to hold onto Dahyun's words as if it never allowed her to feel anything else. 

 

Those were all there is to it: the sun, the waters, and the land that did nothing for good. 

 

By the end of the day, Sana's tongue was scorching.