Baking was the sole purpose of anyone's surrender — and by anyone, it was mostly Sana. She tried it once then emerged with the decision to never do it again. 

 

But under unfortunate circumstances, there comes a time when an option of an activity opposes the offense baking has established. That option? Delivering bread. 

 

She's thankful she chose to rent the bikes prior, otherwise she would see herself faltering with the handles. It's been a short amount of time since they tried together. Now is a season for new opportunities such as letting Dahyun command her to leave pastries from door to door. 

 

"When you said we'd limit the perimeter," Sana struggles to speak as her pedals function quicker to catch up, "you didn't elaborate the fact that we'd cover the totality of the village carrying bread sticks on our backs." 

 

"Understandable, you never tried any of this." Dahyun's pedals are rapid, withstanding the laws of the breeze. 

 

"What—" 

 

Before Sana grabs the opportunity to overtake, Dahyun has already grabbed hers. She's come to full speed, nearly standing on her bicycle, as she makes a turn from one house to another. 

 

It's only fortunate that she finds her trail after taking a shortcut. Dahyun stopped at a residence Sana recognized, one of the few houses she'd pass by arriving from the villa. 

 

"Uncle Gabriel?"

 

Fondue, in its elegant name, is an unforgettable aspect of Switzerland. That's what Sana had in mind when she first landed, but seeing as the bread meant for it is gripped between Dahyun's knuckles, perhaps she would have to try that later in the evening if that's suitable. 

 

The door creaks open by the end of Dahyun's third set of knocks. Sana swallows her steps in return, appearing to have been surprised upon meeting her previous savior once again. 

 

"Oh, Dan." He exits the threshold upon recognition. "Guten Morgen." 

 

"Guten Morgen, Onkel Gabriel." Dahyun raises the bags altogether. "Ich habe heute Abend das Nötigste für Ihr fondue mitgebracht." 

 

On the edge of the porch is Sana, born with the inability to understand Swiss German. 

 

Dahyun enters the household first upon the old man's welcome. Sana's presence doesn't go unnoticed either, so he finds it in himself to present a hand while considering his manners. 

 

"You are sincerely remembered," he says the moment Sana takes it for a shake. "The woman who asked for directions to the bakery."

 

"Yes, yes." Sana's chuckles were enough for first impressions. "Thank you for your help." 

 

Gabriel averts his vision towards the bikes parked beside his porch. 

 

"I didn't think you'd work for the Kims now, do you?" 

 

Sana's eyes follow. 

 

"At times, yes." she beams. "Dahyun accommodated me with her knowledge about the place during my stay. This is the least I could do." 

 

"Not from here, aye?" 

 

"Particularly from Japan, sir."

 

His lips form a circle when he nods in understanding. "Your English is commendable."

 

He doesn't stop there because before Sana can resist, he hovers his hand behind her, his opposing arm lifted for another warm welcome. "Now, why don't we continue this talk inside while Dan makes us the sweetest chocolate milk to butterzopf?" 

 

"O-oh. Well," no one else is hesitant aside from Sana. Waiting for Dahyun made her feel dense and impatient, causing second thoughts to linger now that there's an invitation going strong. "If you don't mi—" 

 

"This house is that girl's playground, believe me." The old man laughs to his own words, reminiscing to add all at the same time. "She never forgets to bring a gallon of milk fresh from the farm. You should try it, don't be shy." 

 

The character of being thoughtful nearly escaped Sana's mind. Dahyun always appeared as a girl with a mind that continuously transformed and Sana forgot how it was to explore another's heart. 

 

Erasing the doubts away, Sana makes her way into the comfort of this man's cottage.

 

 

///

 

 

"Mind the floorboards in the kitchen, Dan!" Gabriel yells from the living room.

 

He's more organized than anyone ever thought. Sana knew he held quite a witty impression; on occasional times he would garner the reflex to adjust his specs. His interior defined a lot despite her first step, with books that are categorized under a common subject that are transfixed on dusty shelves. 

 

"Repairing that segment slipped my mind," he sighs as he sits, offering Sana the adjacent seat. 

 

"Best be careful now. This, a, uh," nobody can tell if it was warmer on the inside. Sana could feel the heat beside the unlit fireplace, but it's an eerie thought to ignite that on a summer's day, "sweet cottage of mine has stood since the village was built. I apologize if any ramshackled fragments catch your attention." 

 

"It's alright. I can get used to a place like this." 

 

All seems natural now that she's taking everything in. From the aging doors to the silky curtains, to picture the furnishings creates a majestic appearance in contrast to the cottage's age. Sana had never experienced this kind of solace before; growing up in a modern territory truthfully put her in her place. 

 

"Pardon me, but I didn't catch your name?"

 

The clock ticks in Dahyun's favor as she appears with a tray of three glasses of chocolate milk. "Sana," she says when she places it on the coffee table in the center. 

 

"What she said." Sana's eyes are secured on Dahyun's little movements even after she leaves the room. 

 

Gabriel takes one glass for a sip, not forgetting to offer Sana her own. "I rarely see captivating individuals like you around town. Refreshing to be, I say. " 

 

A particular word catches Sana off-guard. Receiving compliments was part of the frequent routine, but hearing it straight out of sincerity made her choke on the drink. 

 

"That's too much, sir. Thank you."

 

It doesn't take a while before Dahyun returns empty-handed. Whatever she did aside from concocting shouldn't be a part of Sana's concerns. 

 

"So, Dan," Gabriel finishes his drink first, "The festival tomorrow night. Are you two going?"

 

Dahyun shrugs as she sits on the armrest next to Sana. She pauses to look at Gabriel straight in the eyes, then turning, "Are you going?" 

 

"A festival?" Sana repeats in question. 

 

Dahyun nods. "The town's annual summer festival. A party is hosted later at night to pin the start of the event that lasts for a week." 

 

"That sounds, um, rather festive." mistakes are fine until you record yourself under utter humiliation. 

 

But that hovering grin takes it away; Dahyun looks like she's having her fun and it's more than a mock for Sana to apprehend that. 

 

"Y-yes, of course. I'll stay for the night," Sana says anyway, returning her attention back to Gabriel whose countenance was just as analytical. 

 

"Wunderbar!" Then Gabriel's hands raise through genuine excitement. "I will ask Dan to secure you — lest you worry." 

 

Sana hopes she'd never see that same mocking grin again once she decides to gaze back. It seems Dahyun is taking advantage of the situation, letting her guest succumb to the adventitious accounts of Mr. Gabriel. For as long as the man could speak, his welcomes are extensive through Dahyun's actions. 

 

"Have you paid the cities a visit, then?" Gabriel starts on his usual demeanor again, catching both girls in the conversation. 

 

"We roamed around Zurich for the second time the other day." a rhythm forms through a series of thumps underneath Dahyun's legs.

 

The flavor of the chocolate drink happens to taste peculiar in a way Sana can't complain about. It's rare to eat fresh, drink fresh, but now that all seems surreal against a single drop of Dahyun's concoction. 

 

"Spent yourself a good time? You're doing a lovely job assisting our guest, Dan." 

 

"And I considered she should..." the air is certainly not the thickest Sana could have imagined. Under unreasonable circumstances, Dahyun visioned the tension restraining Sana's shoulders; in the midst of her statement, a massage was exerted onto her skin, overwhelming even Sana who received the liberty. 

 

"...try the thermal spa, right, uncle? "

 

"Should be suitable for winter, albeit." Gabriel fades from his word as he faces Sana. "But the warmth is never shut. It doesn't hurt to try by sunset, I suppose." 

 

Sana feels her shoulders relax once Dahyun lets go. A thermal spa is perhaps what she needs as of the moment — a realization that Dahyun has again surprised her with. 

 

A grandfather's clock declares the scene's needed conclusion. All eyes wander to search for the source, only when Gabriel stands up to investigate the noise, Dahyun and Sana deflate. 

 

"Heavens." beside the clock is a cane that doesn't miss Sana's familiarity (and she wondered how he directed himself without it). 

 

Dahyun hops off the armrest to dash towards Gabriel's quip. Sana, left yet again at the living room, is successful in regards to maintaining a proper disposition in spite of Dahyun's harsh etiquette. While she is ought to conquer the expectations from new faces, she is ought to evaluate the motives Dahyun's dainty fingers are trying to convey. 

 

"I'm assuming so much of you." The two appear behind the wall, Gabriel not missing his cane. "I would have to fetch another guest from the station in an hour."

 

Nobody misses the part where his hand lands on Dahyun's bicep. 

 

"Love her, will you?" 

 

Sana wished she'd hear that one more time. His voice was more of a whisper, but the quietude in the area expanded his volume wherein no one else could hear except Dahyun, Gabriel, and most especially, her. 

 

Three empty glasses can say a lot altogether. Among these materials, such talks can carry heavy emotions across sincere beliefs. 

 

 

///

 

 

The night was way more festive than Sana anticipated. All streets were heavily decorated, including the church that stood out the entire town due to the numerous lights that covered each edge from top to bottom. There were also the open homes, in which Sana wasn't used to seeing as the neighbourhood was nearly as quiet everytime. 

 

Of course, it was completely rude to come empty-handed. Although she did offer Elena the opportunity, the maid politely refused as she was needed back home. What's left of her villa was all Sana could bring: scrumptious fruits and quality wine enough for everyone. 

 

To say that every aspect of the festival was overwhelming might be the understatement of the year. Despite her frequency of attendance to similar events, this one is terribly cutting her out the picture. No face she can recognize except for supreme baker Kim, or under usual circumstances, Dahyun's father assessing his pastries on the food table. 

 

And Dahyun? Sana can't find her. Anywhere. She asked Mr. Kim already, but only assured her that the girl is busy helping with the attendees. But the town, regardless of the expanse, is populated at most. Sana can't bear to sit idly anymore without the guarantee that she doesn't appear to be extravagantly out of place. 

 

She could have sworn she spotted Gabriel, though. With a couple of bodies stretched around him, he must have arrived from the train station right in time for the start of the party. 

 

As the seconds turn into minutes, so does Sana's patience turns into recklessness. If the music didn't turn up, she would have pulled herself to sulk back at the villa. 

 

There was this sense of impulse to release the tension. Dahyun was indeed right; her shoulders weighed a million times heavier before she danced. Now everything came loose with a vigorous drink, starting from the throat until she'd reach her limit to act according to the orders of the moon. It was no business meeting — no success party where she would have been required to embrace formality still. Her soul was liberal enough to let her have this — the greatest time of her life. 

 

Flushed from the essence of fulfilling the purpose of this event, Sana's animated body eventually finds a partner full of potential. They'd clash together, not missing a beat, until Sana was starting to get bewitched by this man's figure. 

 

 

How rude would she be if she chose to let him slide? He was perfect in any way one could have imagined. And Sana being Sana, would most likely submit to his advances that were just too distinctive under the fairy lights or the crowded groove. 

 

Sana feels the foreign touch on her waist, pulling her closer. Once she danced, and later she allowed all walls to crash down. Her legs might as well be non-existent the moment he leans, placing her in a trance so intense that the music couldn't even bring her back.

 

Succumbing to his intention, Sana's lips are occupied. He's attempting for a dive into her silence, and Sana's thirst for more lets him. 

 

More, more, more. No thoughts are left to cloud her mind, for the justice brought by this man alone was enough to keep her grounded. 

 

Unknowingly, Sana can still hear the noise of the rave. Taste the salt in his tongue. Smell the fragrance that opposed the beauty of the alps. Feel the depravity of each touch to an extent they drained the thrill out of her trembling dignity. 

 

And she yearned to lose them all, most especially the part where her eyes just have to satisfy their purpose by locking on another pair whose owner appears just as indulgent through her sense of taste. 

 

In this period of her umpteenth lifetime, Sana's sole wish was to be born blind. 

 

Dahyun, who once carried the sun in her eyes, was left to carry remorse under the light. Sana can't fathom whether she should resent or reciprocate empathy, but seeing as a part of Dahyun's expression was hindered by a male stature of her own, both parties are unable to exchange feelings between the line. 

 

Sana was starting to sober up sooner than expected. Maybe the image of Dahyun kissing someone rattled her head a bit, taking her back into the present where everything shouldn't really matter. 

 

Who started this hypocrisy is left unanswered. Sana had to push herself away from whatever restricted her. 

 

Even if delved into a similar story, the rest of her senses underwent agony she never felt before. 

 

And Sana didn't know that Dahyun was looking back all this time. She found the fool in herself, and it was a mistake to let loose — go forward. 

 

It was a ing mistake. 

 

 

///

 

 

By midnight, all establishments were left vacant in their spots. The point arrived where a group of performers dominated the plaza to execute a cultural dance in regards to tradition. The entire town population became the audience that spectated from the sides amidst the late hours. 

 

It was expected for all citizens to gather, but Gabriel felt more than lucky enough to find Sana exhausting herself with any alcoholic beverage prepared inside the few coolers littering the corners of the venue. 

 

Sana believes she would have been a real party pooper if she left too soon. Out of all things, there was no lesson for her to learn on how to kill the mood. So while Dahyun is out and about granting that sweet yes to someone special she never told her about, Sana drags herself to some sort of preoccupation. Turns out, original Swiss liquor brought out the delicacy of her character, and this particular element pulled her to pine for more. 

 

This guy of Sana's — who carelessly crashed his grape scented lips into hers — concluded to be the epitome of disappointment for everyone. After the fiasco, Sana didn't bother to look back. 

 

"Sana, dear. Goodness." 

 

Maybe if he found her wasted on somebody else's porch, the speculation where Gabriel exhibits a sensible display of sympathy might be proven. Since it all crashes down into this one event, it's best if Sana proves everything all at once now. 

 

Each bottle emptied is taken away one by one. Gabriel groups them in the corner of his platform where most milk bottles are placed. 

 

"You need to keep yourself rooted." A clean handkerchief is dabbed on parts near Sana's mouth. Gabriel assumes that she's high from wasted now, but upon seeing those reddish eyes, it seems there is more of a story than being wasted.

 

"I apologize, sir." Sana sniffs as she takes the handkerchief Gabriel provides. "The party took me away. It was a blast." 

 

"Is it really?" 

 

Sana doesn't mind it when her side is subsequently warm with a presence. 

 

"You've been having a glorious time since you got here, I can tell." 

 

There's one last bottle on the end of the stairs. Sana takes a sip, disregarding the concern emitting from Gabriel's eyes. 

 

"I thought you had visitors," Sana says. "I need to go back. Experiencing different traditions from mine is an opportunity I shouldn't pass up, now." 

 

"Are you sober or are you sober?" 

 

The silence between turns deafening against the music. Sana wished that she could answer using her intelligence in negotiating, but that alone was swept away from the moment she set foot on the airport. 

 

"It's more of an or," she feigns amusement as the bottle rolls from the porch, spilling contents. 

 

Gabriel retrieves the emptiness, then hopes for it to belong with the others. 

 

"Would you like me to call Dahyun?" 

 

Now Sana understood why Gabriel preferred something as simple as Dan. In contradiction to his nonchalance, his accent figured it was difficult to pronounce the pretty name. 

 

The girl could only laugh. And while Gabriel didn't intend to say it that way, he laughs according to flow.

 

"No, it's fine." Sana's sniffs came to perturb her sentences. "This is an event she celebrates every year. I shouldn't be the reason to take the fun out of it."

 

Gabriel's eye roll was the first to take Sana off her solemnity. 

 

"That girl can sway all night long but this summer festival is nowhere near her interest radar." 

 

Having the chance to ask Dahyun about that should be fetched easily. Even if they spent the days talking amongst themselves, Sana only found out about Dahyun's personality the more she listened to her methods of answering. 

 

But she only found out earlier that Dahyun can still say so much without saying anything. She was so far, so busy. And yet, only words of apology were reflected by her countenance. 

 

To think that she wouldn't find this event fun is severe on belief. Dahyun is a vitamin, an energizer. 

 

Then again, Gabriel appeared like he knew a hundred times more about her than anyone did. 

 

"It seems you two still have a lot to talk about." 

 

Sana pokes herself out when she hears. The moments brought her in deep though again, repeating questions of what to do and what to say. 

 

"I don't—" 

 

The liquor hit her right back. On impulse, the staircase trembled as she made her way to the distance, all the regrets and hidden desires splatter onto the lush grass. Sana felt her stomach antagonize with her decisions, which conducted a stupid rendition of herself as a mere human being and not as the contemporary leader her employees believed her to be. 

 

The will of being wasted dragged her back. Gabriel looked concerned through his disheveled hair, probably parted from accompanying his guests. 

 

"Rest inside." He opts to support her from the back, boosting her posture. "I'll call Dan. Don't say anything else when she speaks then." 

 

"Mhm..." 

 

Her ability to form coherent words was left unabled. She complies to Gabriel's directions, finding the comfort she was looking for in the warmth of the couch and the scent of the cottage. 

 

 

///

 

 

With everything under your control, you should no longer have the capability to fret over the littlest things. 

 

Sana grew up under such a philosophy: whatever it is that you have, use it to your utmost advantage. She had the power to strike the prominence out of anybody who dared challenge her convictions, causing any soul under the category to grieve over unintentional failures. 

 

Sometimes fashion is her expertise. Sometimes mall management. Sometimes technology. And yet, she still chose to disregard the knowledge of anything and everything in the process of finding herself. 

 

Switzerland taught her a lot of things throughout her stay. Sana was as close to understanding what was wrong in the first place, but one girl just had to pull her back to the bottom of it all. 

 

Life is far from being impartial. Just as this night lasts for an hour more than tomorrow's day, the cage Sana kept her sentiments lasted twice as long as the weeks she spent. Before that cage reeks in rust, it will be only a matter of time until Sana decides what to do with what's inside it. 

 

They're locked. Sana hid them all these weeks and it's starting to fluctuate. 

 

Her head was caught in a mess. The side-effects should last for the rest of the night, but goddamn is it relieving to see Dahyun's face for once. 

 

Dahyun—

 

"Hey, how are you?"

 

She's sitting by Sana's feet at the end of the couch. 

 

"I'm..." her vision blurs for the first time upon fluttering them open. "...okay."

 

Dahyun had her chin on her palm, elbow placed on the armrest. She scoots away to give space as Sana attempts for stability, hand on her temples to maintain acknowledgement. 

 

"Don't force yourself." 

 

Sana hopes she's not ruining anything because her immaturity never went down the drain. Dahyun's eyes were tired on their own, unchanging even when she stood. 

 

"I have aspirin. Don't do anything stupid."

 

Was she calling me out? 

 

Even so, she had the right to. Dahyun has no knowledge about the reasons for her naivety. Sana didn't know what to do either way, so she did whatever her gut told her that led to this mayhem. 

 

Listening isn't in Sana's course. But when it comes to Dahyun, she'd crave to learn. 

 

Last time, the windows were flung wide. See how the rays painted Gabriel's furniture gold — tender debris floating above the curvatures. 

 

Sana tries once more. Embrace the sense of sight, learn how to see things without trembling beneath doubts. 

 

Within tapered walls, the windows are flung gapless in replacement. Barely discern the reflection of the moon shining across this little interior. Furnishings are placed differently and the fireplace is built on the opposite side of the room. 

 

Could this be? 

 

"Drink this." Dahyun hands out the aspirin on her palm, a glass of water held by the other. 

 

In haste, Sana abides. Resilience perhaps may be the only aptitude she needs to apply for now. 

 

"Thanks." 

 

It's the first time they sat together without resonating a single letter. Sana doesn't have the strength to dive further, too. She was somewhat waiting for anything at this point, for Dahyun to share what happened or ask any of a question. 

 

Silence – detestable. Anyone who enters that door can question the rigidity hauling the portions of the atmosphere. Whoever garnered the highest curiosity appears to win in this predicament — in this case, Sana was taking the lead. 

 

"What are you doing here? You should go back." 

 

Dahyun sat on the sole wing chair, away from Sana. The unlit fireplace became the sole subject of her attention.

 

"Uncle called me," she says gently, eyes firm on the hearth. 

 

"Oh. Sorry." The blanket tucked around her was a surprise, only managing to realize its warmth when Sana tugged her legs. "I didn't mean to cause you trouble. Really, you can go back." 

 

"And leave you unattended like that?" 

 

How absurd of a thought it was if Dahyun actually cared. Sana caused this mistake. It is her responsibility to manage any little thing regardless of her useless power. 

 

"Sana." Dahyun shifts to finally return the gaze. She felt a bit uncomfortable maintaining the contact, especially when she's uncertain whether Sana was actually in her right mind. 

 

"Dahyun." 

 

Her eyelids began to weigh heavier each second. Gripping the sheet, Sana's mentality dissolves through soft regards. 

 

" truths, please?" 

 

Considering that Dahyun transitioned into someone pitiful, Sana nods. 

 

Both girls inhale the same air at the same time. They try to breathe in steady rhythms, hoping to use the right words amid this ongoing equation. 

 

"I'm starting to think I'm being unfair. " A pause breaks Dahyun's cadence. Sana closes her eyes meanwhile, leaning.

 

It seems you two have a lot to talk about. 

 

"I'm trying not to break in front of you, too." 

 

Don't say anything else when she speaks then.

 

"You are the loveliest one could see. I shouldn't be the one to destroy what you built upon yourself here." 

 

Dahyun spoke too much and Sana wanted to mumble something soon. For all that she said, there had to be a fault somewhere within those lines. 

 

"Falling in is worse than falling out." She leans on the edge of the backrest as she piles her knees together, arms wrapped around that soon hid . "If you came here to know that, it's best not to learn it from me." 

 

"Dahyun—" 

 

"You don't have to tell me anything otherwise."

 

If Dahyun had not replaced her pretense with a smile, Sana would have kept herself together. 

 

So she rejects the warmth of the blanket, tossing it away as she makes her way to crouch upon the side of the couch where Dahyun laid. Unable to maintain the gravity of her manifestation, Sana's fingers figured they belonged to milky skin and golden locks, a mix of clarity that proved this difficulty false. 

 

"Sana." 

 

Every word escaped only to be returned by soft touches on Dahyun's lips. Her thumb pulls the lower lip down, plays, and Sana's nearly considering placing her own against them. 

 

They're dry from the continuous utters, Dahyun quite ashamed, but Sana admires the use of it. 

 

From the lips to her cheeks, Sana's fingers are very gentle with handling Dahyun's facade well. Though she's ecstatic to let them remain a bit longer, the period comes when Dahyun holds Sana's wrists instead. 

 

"How long?" 

 

The air lingers in volume above. Sana's cradle that dreams to convey all unspoken words; Dahyun's grasp that struggles to reach for every meaning.

 

"Since the first time we went to Zurich," Sana answers. "I fell in, Dahyun. I fell in. It doesn't sound as bad now, does it?" 

 

"But..." 

 

Sana leans forward to haste a kiss on her forehead. 

 

And Dahyun keeps her hands wrapped around those wrists, portraying not to let go. Inclined to seize the presence of Sana's palms on her face, she submits to them, dwells into the heat delivered. Her eyes close as Sana plays with her lips once more, poking her teeth – lets her just like that — until she uses them again for stimulation. 

 

"Sana. Sana. Sana," she blows against her thumbs. "I don't..." 

 

The last few tones hush to fade — Sana has dived further, accessing the depths of Dahyun's lips. She's trying to savor this time; taste every bit of flavor there is, reduce fragments of regret scattered across her crimsons. 

 

Whatever intent they shared with anyone before relinquished. Sana proves that — no matter how long she'd keep her palms on an angel's face. 

 

And Dahyun, who felt misguided below the roof, fought as hard to accumulate the lost sentiments. 

 

If this is the dream Sana slept for every night, she might as well fulfill any futile task seeking from the corners. 

 

Oh so to speak, say, use words — a repulsive nightmare. Actions live between proposition and explanation; in this sense, Sana found difficulty in wielding one faultless conviction. 

 

However she kisses, Dahyun returned an equal amount of aspiration. On that dusty wing chair, aging as the planks creek which carries them together, soon dismisses the importance of interpreting a sense. 

 

Sana maneuvers off her crouch, legs regaining strength while her crimson is tangled. Digging fingers, swiping thumbs — there was never a moment she let go. Dahyun asked before, sparking eyes despite the exhaustion igniting, but she knew Sana stayed true to her word. 

 

It wasn't the liquor, perhaps, that brought her to sit on Dahyun's lap. It was this call, this reciprocation, maybe, that Sana was receiving the love she deserved. Dahyun held her still, far from falling down yet again, and kept her against the doubts that were anticipated in the wrong dwelling. 

 

They swam, swam, too close to drown. The air caught off between lungs and lungs were required to be fed. 

 

Sana releases first, taking into admiration the features in front of her. Sent intimidation, even so, causing the owner to avoid such a lovely gaze. 

 

"Something wrong?" concern began lacing Sana's voice. An attempt was made to pull Dahyun up, cradle her face up where her eyes should belong. 

 

"No, I'm just..." under her hands left trembling skin. Sana hopes to ease by placing another kiss.

 

"Hm?"

 

Dahyun steadies her gaze this time. Tired, yearning, confused. 

 

"It's overwhelming," she whispers, breath tickles Sana's gaping lips. "Sana, you're overwhelming." 

 

Uncertainty comes in the form of a loose embrace. Sana placed her hand on Dahyun's collarbone for support, wishing she was allowed to wrap herself around her without doubting too much. 

 

"Are you still drunk?" Dahyun then asks. 

 

Sana tilts her head to the side. "Take a guess." 

 

The smirk etched on that face took it away. 

 

"You are." Dahyun laughs. "You're not going to remember any of these, I hope." 

 

"Mhm." 

 

"Which means..." 

 

The thought lingered for a while. Dahyun looked quite amused before the captivation painting Sana's countenance. 

 

So one resumes with a surprise: Dahyun's quick and sloppy kisses flocking her canvas, each full of love, discarding fear. 

 

As the air persists, so does Sana's reeking breath. She'd giggle after one kiss from another, giddy as the canvas that she is, satisfied with her painter. 

 

"You won't remember those, won't you?" 

 

Feeling the pressure increasing, Dahyun's hands fall to Sana's waist as she adjusts her thin frame on her lap. 

 

"Lipstick?" 

 

Dahyun laughs softly. "No trails, gorgeous." 

 

Sana liked the sound of that. Even if she wakes up forgetting all there was that led them here, what is enough is that she had no regrets. 

 

The weight upon Dahyun's stature adds another as Sana nestles her head onto the collarbone, crevice feverish after her nose pokes into. 

 

"Dahyun. Dahyun. Dahyun..." Sana's voice sighs against her neck, reverberating still as the sole noise inside the hollow room. 

 

Dahyun hums to follow, overtaking — brushing forth emptiness. 

 

She takes a while, contemplating if there was still something she forgot to do and say. And there was none. Her head was content to rest on that shoulder, finding solace inside the presence of Dahyun's hold. 

 

Truthfully, Sana felt like she had to justify herself. Dahyun said too much while she said lesser than little, afraid of the consequences if one mistake spat out. While the tolerance she earned did push her off the edge of insecurity, Dahyun's silence still resented the methods of Sana's advances. 

 

"Do you hate me?" so she'd ask, digging herself deeper — deeper, until Dahyun can no longer catch her eyes. 

 

"And if I do?" the absence of sarcasm crept above her, petrifying against the ear. 

 

Applauding once in mind, Sana fastened her thoughts next. 

 

"Then I don't have to force myself to be selfless." 

 

A modicum of both desired to tire it away. Dahyun had no reason to capitulate; everything was Sana's doing. This was a fever dream, a force thrown softly, a question answered without sense. To be held like this, to be kissed like that, Sana never expected an initiation. The alcohol promoted her carelessness before, now it encouraged her to shape reality into what it is now. 

 

Tonight created rash decisions and rough transitions. Though for the benefit of Sana and Dahyun, it was rather right that the moon hid the light before them. 

 

 

///

 

 

Do you ever wonder what Sana's first regret was? Forgetting to ask for Dahyun's number. 

 

The problem is, however, not once did she spot a device in Dahyun's hand. Her pockets were flat empty too — aside from leftover candies she stole from the sweets basket her father left to entertain passing children at the bakery. 

 

When Sana asked, Dahyun simply replied, "I never understood how it worked." 

 

It was outrageous. Preposterous. Terrible. Sana had her heart broken a million times before, but not like this. 

 

The suspect, meanwhile, found it hysterical. It wasn't her intention to negate cellular devices since she never realized how useful they are deemed to be. 

 

So Sana takes her to Zurich — should have been again, but this was her time to start the record for herself. Dahyun took her two times before without purpose, now Sana believes in great opportunities no matter how small the reason is: a phone. 

 

They're browsing around a gadget shop inside a mall, one Dahyun has never been to before in spite of its reputation. While gapes at the sight of it all, Sana's concentration is locked between two devices vigorously compared by the salesman.

 

"You can tell how advanced the specs of this model are," he pokes the said phone forward. " Hirai is a hybrid label, madam. Could easily surpass leading labels if they improved the functionality of the current processor." 

 

"You're right," Sana comments upon rotating the device for observation. 

 

(Face-to-face proposition received — duly noted for personal reasons.)

 

Dahyun hops back at the right time. Her face dips into stupefaction when she spots the phone in Sana's hand, as well as the remaining phone displayed on the surface of the glass counter. She shifts vision across one to another, not much difference entering her scrutiny. 

 

"I'll take this." Sana hands over the device. 

 

"Wait, wait." 

 

Both Sana and the salesman turn their heads, pausing the exchange. Beneath the counter Sana feels a tug on her blazer, rather continuous. 

 

Dahyun leads her away to establish a private vicinity, but not before excusing themselves. 

 

Without removing her pinch on Sana's blazer, she asks, "Are you really going to buy that?" 

 

"Why? You don't want it? You can tell me if there's anything else you want." 

 

"No, no." Dahyun lays her head low, avoiding another one of Sana's loving gazes. "It's not... necessary, you know? I grew up not having any and it's still fine if I die without one." 

 

The particular benefit Sana received in this association is the influence of sharing touches. Not much thought was wasted when she used a finger to lift Dahyun's head, prolonging her fixation. 

 

"I won't be able to talk to you when I leave," Sana's voice alleviates amidst the noise resonating beyond the store. 

 

Sorrow isn't Dahyun's thing. But right now, it is — it's her only thing. 

 

Witnessing it became far worse for Sana. She wants to kiss her right there and then, but manages to put aside her wishes as she holds Dahyun's hand instead then pulls her back to the counter. 

 

"I'll take it, please," Sana claims, hoping the desperation went unnoticed. 

 

 

///

 

 

They triumph in exchanging numbers despite Dahyun's skepticism towards the gadget. 

 

 

"Try calling me." Sana points at her name listed on the contact list. 

 

 

Dahyun abides, but not before she gets to taste the delicious crepe bestowed below her. She feels rather bashful under the umbrella that covered them from the brilliant sunlight, for Sana's generosity is just unprecedented now that she paid for a whole buffet of local Swiss food. 

 

 

Her pocket vibrates to Dahyun's call — a successful lesson taught. Sana fishes to answer it, creating an entirely silly image of themselves outdoors. 

 

 

"Hello? Who is this?" Sana grins as she chews. 

 

 

"Um, hi." The crepe prepared on the opposite side is left untouched; Dahyun tries to play along, but the words fall out earlier than the food in . 

 

 

"Is this a wrong number?" 

 

 

A sigh reaches the core of Sana's sensitive ear, tickling her through the vibration of Dahyun's voice. She eats a sausage to calm her nerves, to resist the urge to laugh or just smile. 

 

 

"Sana," until Dahyun breathes again, tone low and voice raspy, that illuminates Sana's submission. 

 

 

In the end, only one succumbs to a smile. It matters now that the other realizes a story starting to write itself behind such a dismal pitch. 

 

 

It hurts Dahyun. Sana wouldn't know, lest she try. 

 

 

///

 

 

Last time Sana paid attention to any of Gabriel's guides, her memory hauled her to the part where Dahyun suggested the thermal spa, to which the old man encouraged even so. 

 

With no schedule to preoccupy themselves with, their legs have led them to the luxury of a relaxing tourist attraction. At first, Dahyun's refusal stood out any possible persuasion; she'd suggest incompatible pursuits that included their energy to conquer the summer heat. Using Sana's lead against her was hardly an argument, if elaborating how expensive the deals are is considered valid. 

 

But of course, this was Sana she opposed. A woman like her shouldn't even be tried anyway, hence there's no further reason to form a resistance if all she wanted was to ease her tension. 

 

She was lucky this time that she got a heads-up. Sana, the early morning before they left for the train, told Dahyun to bring a bathing suit if she had one. Dahyun asked twice in regards why, only to answer her question when Sana exits a private room later on showing more skin than usual. 

 

Ignoring Sana is a struggle. She always knew that woman had a nice figure, a perfect stature. That moment the bike screeched against the ground on the day they met, Dahyun implemented a compelling assumption that Sana was a model in Japan. 

 

Dahyun's luggage contained no more than a swimsuit. She brought the basics for a feast of freedom, but it was still no match to Sana's heaven. 

 

By all means, Sana permits Dahyun to feel the discomposure. It was actually no big deal; far from a bathing suit, even. Apparently Dahyun was just exaggerating those high waist shorts and loose, transparent top that Sana flaunted around the lobby of the spa. 

 

However, it wasn't only Sana's confidence that washed the contentment away from Dahyun. On the way to the outdoor pool, a few foreign bystanders Dahyun caught ogling her company from head to toe. And when she shifts a quick glance to the woman in subject, obliviousness is surprisingly the perpetrator that diverted her focus. 

 

Swimming is an activity Dahyun bled for. A thermal spa she should be ecstatic for now turned cautious. So as to lavish those scoundrels the wealth of disrespect, Dahyun sets a step behind — height displayed in contrast — follows a kiss on Sana's bare shoulder blade. She then peels off her excursion parka to clad Sana with it, covering the expanse of her torso. 

 

"What was that for?" Sana's face was trapped in its own heat, astonished and curious altogether. 

 

"I just think your back is pretty."

 

Dahyun looks back one more time, garnering the reactions the bystanders reflected. 

 

"And your parka?" the clothing is tugged close; Sana enjoys the scent enveloping her body. 

 

Their eyes meet as Dahyun maintains the link upward, savouring Sana's countenance in front of the wide glass where the luminance roared across the horizon. 

 

At the end of the ray is a grin, entirely amused. "Let's keep that for me, hm?" 

 

Sana's chuckles are heard within the comfort of Dahyun's parka, head ducked caused by the strings of embarrassment. Dahyun listens to the music for some time, rather pleased, but decides the spa isn't a patient location to tolerate their presence. 

 

She steps forward to yank Sana's hand, entangling fingers together. Dahyun pulls her aside from there, away from the envious looks that were thrown towards their way by the entrance of the lobby. 

 

 

///

 

 

Compared to the view displayed from the center of the village, the beauty granted by the outdoor spa encouraged the resplendent cost of modern Switzerland. 

 

"God," Sana quips as she emerges from below, wiping her face next to Dahyun who consistently chose to wonder the environment on the edge. 

 

"Good?" Dahyun asks. 

 

Placid waters tuned the tenacity of their bodies as the fresh breeze hoped to dry their hair along the wind. This was an aspect Dahyun appreciated, still; looking around helped her adjust, helped her accept the magnificence of the mountains even from afar. 

 

"Good." Sana places her arms atop the boundary. Her legs would kick beneath, occasionally bumping into Dahyun's who mistakened the exchange as a silly brawl. 

 

Eventually, they'd stop. Sana would swim back and forth, even plunging herself where she'd have fun in making bubbles beneath. Dahyun finds it funny, too, when she asks her if she was skilled enough to submerge for a long period of time. 

 

"I swam a lot back at the lake when I was little," Dahyun shares while Sana leaned against the boundary, allowing the temperature to finally settle in. 

 

"So you're experienced?" 

 

"I wouldn't say so. Those times were for fun. I can't even count how many times I nearly drowned." 

 

"Glad you didn't." her cheeks bubbled, enticing Dahyun with a beam. 

 

"Glad I didn't." 

 

Before summer leapt, spring decorated the ethereal valleys of the scene. Reminiscing the memories Dahyun spent led her to dwell in her own nostalgia. She had never furnished herself with the luxuries of Zurich, incapable of even taking home a single souvenir. When spring blossomed, Dahyun was granted by the demands at the bakery to waste occasional days at the city. Her father somehow felt apologetic, but she happened to compromise an equal approach. 

 

Admitting the concept that Sana is being extremely generous with her bounty, Dahyun couldn't help but sense the guilt seeping inside her. Of course she couldn't challenge this woman's overtures; from the moment she felt her lips, she simply won't take no for an answer. Dahyun perceived the negligence inviting Sana yet again, and judging by the prospect of a previous night, she can't bear to see her revolving around this correlation once more. 

 

As much as Dahyun resisted the foreboding intensified near her chest, she yearned for Sana's company. They spent weeks filling each other's day, and not a single afternoon one would stray for absence. 

 

Then the hours would pass until they realize it's late. 

 

While Sana is without a doubt prosperous, there is one gold that she doesn't have that Dahyun does: time. 

 

That was the fear, the imminent injury. Sana is not sensitive as Dahyun is, and that only adds fuel to the fire. 

 

Unless the theory could have been wrong all this time. Sana being Sana, it wasn't difficult to perceive the gloom pouring over Dahyun's lack of emotion. 

 

She was sensitive, insightful; always observed Dahyun from the farthest point to the nearest sensation. Felt the coursing envy from the second she saw her share affections with someone else when she endured the same passion through another's lust. 

 

Sana has always been like that. And even if Dahyun never told anyone, Sana not at all liberated herself from that girl's values. 

 

Actions speak louder than words — a recurring philosophy. So to exhibit the gravity of her words, Sana submerges in silence as she swam towards Dahyun to pull her from the surface and into the water, conveying that reassurance she needed to say through the attachment of their lips. 

 

Dahyun knows how to hold her breath underwater, but she never knew how to do it like this. Sana held her firm by her collar, drowning her in the sentiment of the plunging endearment. 

 

The spa pool wasn't deep, either. It was enough to keep them in between the surface and the floor, though not enough to secure them beneath. Sana tries to carry Dahyun's weight somehow, prohibiting her to sink nor to float, because she can't let anything else intervene here and now. It's a definite balance; Dahyun's attempts also come to vigilance, equalizing the motives revolving around as Sana's hand draws close to her nape, pulling her further. 

 

At this point, Dahyun was getting used to Sana's unrelenting touches. 

 

The next moment beckons them to withdraw, inviting the air to bridge once more. Sana was the first to dive and the first to rise, her fingers landing on her moist, cherry brims as she wipes the wetness off. Dahyun comes in tow, baffled at most; regardless of the current situation, her mind is still stuck deep down. Fortunately for her, Sana conducted the same opinion. They both stunned themselves in the idea of anticipated reactions, albeit controverting through a progressive state. 

 

"What?" 

 

"You looked—" Sana stopped when her eyes were guided to Dahyun's soaked hair, thinking how those locks only elaborated the artistry of the girl. She had to pinch herself to escape the trance, remind herself that Dahyun was just as befuddled. "—deep in thought. Sorry."

 

"Sana..." Then those eyebrows shape into an outline of penitence, evident remorse. Sana detects the same expression from before, and she doesn't even know what to say now that she has done that. 

 

The Japanese swims over, lacing her hand with Dahyun's underwater. "What were you thinking of?" 

 

"Nada, nothing." Dahyun is too persistent. She was given the chance now yet she still chose to brush it away. Her remorse was directed towards herself, no one else. 

 

"You can't think of nothing, Dahyun," Sana says meanwhile. "There's something — there's always something."

 

Dahyun starts to look down where their hands seize, far from pictured sharp. It was that gaze Sana sent that Dahyun shivered beneath; she was so unnerving, overwhelming, until she can no longer construct a coherent sentence full of sense and wonder she used to proclaim. 

 

"There's nothing..." 

 

It ends like that. Sana isn't capable of protesting, let alone provide a concrete response. Dahyun's fingers twitch on her touch, probably sending a cue for release, so Sana eventually does. 

 

Every little thing has a reason. No matter the value of an object, their semblance can or cannot be proportional to their written story. Sana thought there was no reason to come here, nonetheless, that was gently defied. The mistake would have been if she had not digressed the puerile resolve; Dahyun's deliberations have been plastered on Sana's solicitude — slow, slow, by the time either one pursues honesty if provoked. 

 

Sana doesn't want to provoke Dahyun, that was the point. All that's left for her to do is respect her falsity. 

 

It's been a long period since the silence prevailed. Sana can't bear the mistrust lingering in the scene, so she leans against Dahyun's ear instead, a soft blow escaping when she says, "Know your time. I'll see you at the hall."

 

She plods and goes forth, allowing Dahyun to remain soaked in the tempered water, her previous remorse not visible anymore. 

 

Dahyun doesn't like assuming too much. Perhaps it was the immaturity — the skepticism of this bond that caused the sudden unmistakable grin to swathe the mockery around her. 

 

 

///

 

 

("Sorry I didn't get to drop you a call. It's busy without you.") 

 

The door closes to the beat of the voice resonating from the phone, leaving a rather soft creak. Humidity levels are lower inside, contrasting the intensity of the outdoor spa. 

 

Sana lowers the temperature on the air conditioner a bit more, towel around her neck as she dries her hair. 

 

"You don't have to worry about me. " The edge of the bed dips when she sits to take her phone. "Focus on your field. That's what I like about you, didn't I say once, Director Myoui?"

 

It's a little dim on the other line, signifying Japan's precious night and emphasizing Mina's efforts to talk. 

 

("That's not a narrow-minded thing to say, I suppose,") Mina's sigh is breathy, voice declining to an inaudible rasp. ("But it's still difficult to not notice you. Momo is trying too hard to preoccupy me.") 

 

Upon Sana is a wide, expansive window that exposes the cityscape among the continuous mountain ranges illuminated by the sun. Mina has to squint as she finds a suitable spot to dry her hair, right outside where a balcony is constructed. 

 

"You're making it sound bad." It's too bright where she stood. Sana's face glistens along the sky, adorned by the small chuckles eliciting through a reaction. "Oh, and, a heads up: Momo threatened me last time, so there's an honest reason as to why it happens." 

 

("She was close to tailing you and I was convinced it wasn't a good idea.") 

 

"How did it end?" 

 

("Not so good on her side,") Mina scoffs into a motion of taunting an absent peer. Sana laughs at this, calculating Mina's humor somehow, as she leans against the railing. 

 

"Can't wait to talk to her about it." 

 

Mina then shifts around on screen, appearing to look restless behind the shaky camera. 

 

("I heard you roam around without a bodyguard.") Sana hears a thump when the screen displays an inconsistent view of Mina's abode, wherein she recalls the splendor of those paintings affixed on her ivory walls. 

 

"I wouldn't call it a vacation if I had a dog tailing me." 

 

Tossing herself in front of the camera, Mina snickers, ("Wait 'til Momo hears that.") 

 

Sana nods along. "Plus, it's a liberating opportunity. I can't bother to maintain the pressure for the next six years." 

 

("Speaking of that,") Mina pauses, ("The board meeting. It wasn't urgent, just so you know. Your mother was there, too.)

 

"You of all people should know that's the least of my concerns. There's a probability she would ask the board to consider , but I know that's beyond me."

 

("It's still a matter of consideration. The next six years you speak of requires you in the everyday picture.") Mina waits for a response, though unable to receive one. She takes Sana's blunt account as a sign to continue. ("Your stocks are fluctuating, Sana. I was requested by the board to discuss that due to the fact your mother has agreed before we even implemented a solution.") 

 

Sana's eyes narrow. "And you said it wasn't urgent." 

 

("That's surprising. You deem it differently compared to how you usually do.") 

 

"The company is still my responsibility, you know." 

 

During these weeks that she has stayed, there were occasional gaps filling the shallow parts of Sana's memories. She was starting to consider starting a new life here, where all is free and the air doesn't suffocate. Mina's voice acted as a trigger somehow, simulating an apprehension that there's another place calling for Sana to belong. 

 

She had two months and the end of a self-written journey is yet to arrive. Sana flinches at her own acknowledgement; it's never easy to remember her own liabilities because not once did they make Sana feel at ease. 

 

("Why? Are you willing to work for the next six years through prudent dynamics?") 

 

Sana clicks her tongue then tilts her head. She starts to watch Mina's anticipating features again, remembering the days where she was always reminded by this woman that being idealistic won't be able to bring her anywhere. A brief story of hypocrisy, truth be told: Mina was the greatest idealist of all. Momo was more cynical than the both of them, so it was a hassle to teach each other the ways of reaching a goal. 

 

"I was outside too when Momo and I talked," she said. "Whenever natural light kisses my skin, I realize that it's the most comforting sensation for a busy people like us to experience." 

 

Mina opens but ends without a validated counter. She allows herself to listen to what Sana is trying to say. 

 

"When was the last time the three of us went out?" 

 

("Excluding the industry buzz, I believe it's been too long.") Mina's grin is evident on the screen. 

 

Sana releases an airy laugh. "A fashion designer, industrial designer, and an entrepreneur — sounds like an intimidating bunch." 

 

("The Triple Threat,") Mina quotes furthermore, causing both girls to snort over the distant link that keeps them affixed. ("God, that's a big saying. Nobody knows us the way we do.") 

 

"You're right." Sana makes a light tch sound as she flicks the dust off the surface of the railings. "Considering that, I have been meaning to ask you something." 

 

A hand makes its way under Mina's chin, symbolizing permission. Sana's lips always curl to her trivial gestures, including the previous moments where every concern pasted behind Sana's back were easily torn in the shape of a pat on her head. 

 

If Momo has the power to thrash the lodging anxiety, Mina has the intelligence to befriend the same chaos. 

 

Sana never knew she needed both in Switzerland. But right now, Mina's voice is all she wants to hear. 

 

"Do you think it's preposterous if…" she falters. Tries to look at Mina straight in the eye, the courage conveyed is easily sent. 

 

"...I regard myself lower than someone else for such a ridiculous cause?" 

 

Mina only prolongs the gaze, not bothering to save some time. ("Is there a story?") 

 

"There is, but—" hesitation intervenes. Sana already predicts the conclusion of this conversation, and yet, she was risking it all to hear it straight from Mina's tongue. "—I have never been this uncertain."

 

("Sana,") Mina sighs against the microphone, ("You must have a reason to ask me this.") 

 

"That's why I'm asking you right now. It's so absurd, Mina."

 

("Who?") 

 

Sana stares. "What?" 

 

("You could have used anyone.") 

 

Of course, Mina found it easy to catch up. Her wisdom was that of an old soul, which is why Sana believes it's extremely befitting to tell her now. 

 

("Generally speaking, are you?") 

 

"No," in a shake of her head, Sana yields to Mina's assertiveness. "No, I'm not." 

 

She contemplates whether her friend plotted a proper resolve for this problem or not. As far as Mina is concerned, Sana won't think twice to spit honesty across her words. That was her role: to read. Mina is excellent with it, and Sana wishes she knew her ways of learning how. 

 

A pair of eyes soften on Sana's device. She takes a shallow breath, a quick intervention. 

 

("How did you come to realize that?") 

 

Sana pauses. 

 

It's an abstract, a surreal expression tainting a pale canvas. I dived to know a depth, swam even more, until I couldn't recognize the color I flocked myself with. 

 

"For once, I learned how to breathe," she says afterwards. 

 

Then found her down there… and she was breathing. Words floating, syllables trapped in bubbles I can't pop. 

 

Mina's giggles never mock; they're full of reassurance and genuine tolerance. ("You have quite a book planned out.") 

 

Sana only listens then. 

 

("But if it's worrying you that much, then,") she hears three clicks on the other line, a common significance of Mina's thought process. ("was it ever preposterous in the first place?") 

 

Was it? 

 

The thought only emerged from the moment she locked Dahyun's lips with hers underwater. Similar situations happened before, but only now Sana came to realize.

 

Mina hears how her ideas are scattered, how her voice seems to deflate, how her heart seems to slow down. Mina can hear everything on the other side of the world, unbeknownst to Sana. 

 

But even Mina believes anyone can hear. Sana was too loud — loud enough for her eyes to cause an exploration. Her silence was gratifying at first, then it became an assumption of impatience. She can tell how much Sana wanted to say and ask, or evaluate the discomfort ringing through her restless lips. 

 

This is the Sana Mina is worried about the most. 

 

("There's no such thing as regarding oneself as lower.") Deeper, deeper — Sana's breaths are hauled deeper where her lungs fill to limit. ("You walk on the same land, bathe in the same sun. The further you live, the further you realize that we strive on the same path.")

 

Sana's gaze is loose — dazed — yet full of wonder. 

 

Mina feels just the same. 

 

("You learn to let go as you learn to love. If you see the idea of love preposterous, never once did you let yourself go.") 

 

That should be enough, but Mina thought of something more: ("You can never breathe like that, Sana. I think… that's why.") 

 

A static. A crash. A memory of a train passing by the mountains, over the lake and through the tunnels where Sana's last sight to see was the girl sitting beyond her. 

 

Sana, Sana, Sana. 

 

("Our paths are built by humility, did you know?") There was a wish for Mina to say that where the night was neither present for the both of them. ("We can't demand things nor pursue indifference towards our demise.")

 

"What are you trying to say?" 

 

It is a common fact between them that Sana has complete grasp over Mina's words. She was trying to falter just to hear more of what she was implying because she knew the impeccable amount of truth seeping within the tones. 

 

Mina doesn't mind. She has her ways of saying things. 

 

("What I'm saying is…") another sigh, except it's rather long as her voice fades. ("...you shouldn't condemn what you're feeling. Whenever you oppose, you will never be able to find yourself in the right place like that.") 

 

Sana nods, averting her eyes to the structures below her. It's only a matter of time until Dahyun registers the end of her deliberation. 

 

"What should I do, then?"

 

The volume subsides as Mina loses the sound of Sana's sensitivities. They are on the right track. 

 

A few, harmonious taps on the railings bring the phone to speak once more. 

 

("I am not in the right place to answer.")

 

Despite the incredulity, trust is the central basis of Mina and Sana's friendship. She yearned to ask more than that because she couldn't bring herself to accept any of it. If Sana never knew what kind of person Mina was, carelessness will overpower the rest of her senses. 

 

In that second, Sana knew she was right. Maybe she asked the wrong question for Mina to say that, but in the end, twisting words for a functional conclusion assisted her a hundred times more. Mina is knowledgeable of many things, and Sana — a friend since the moment she set afoot to this world — acknowledges that every time with her sincerest smiles. 

 

"I'm so thankful for you. I wish you were here." 

 

Mina has been struggling positioning her phone for the past minutes, and only now she has found the right spot to take in mind Sana's gratification. 

 

("Next time, sweetheart. Take Momo too, if I may remind.") A heartfelt joke that lets them dip into the warm bond, the stream of affections. 

 

They listen to each other's static when Sana comments, "You shouldn't tire yourself with me, now. Go and rest." 

 

On the screen Mina purses her lips. Her phone appears to be situated on a table as she leans a bit to cross her arms atop. 

 

("Another day without you.") her arms shift to welcome her chin to rest on one. Sana chuckles to the distance between her face and the screen, lips still pursed as if to contemplate. ("Have fun, either way. Take care of yourself and eat as much as you want.") 

 

"That's funny. You sounded like Momo just now." 

 

("Is that so? Probably means you need to work on the same things.") 

 

Sana hums. "There's just one more line, though — enjoy the freedom. I remember it clearly."

 

A brow raises on the opposite side. Mina tilts her head to maximize the distance then sighs. 

 

("Enjoy the freedom, Sana. I mean it.") 

 

Hearing it again engulfed Sana in an embrace. She wishes to reciprocate the value of it. 

 

"Okay," she says, "I will."

 

The traditional, silly pretend-kiss ensues, followed by the collective "Love you." that Sana happens to miss the most. 

 

It has only been a short amount of time, but Sana feels like she listened for an hour. 

 

Sana dresses up then hops outside, advancing to the hall, behind her hand is Mina's advice secured. 

 

 

///

 

 

Lemon slices, cherry tops — lonely delicacies Dahyun apparently envies to this day. A drink for one costs overpriced shirts finalized with cinnamon slacks, a combination Sana has paid in exchange for a sweet drink. In a circumstance similar to this, water is proven to be the correct resolve; Dahyun prefers the dullness of its taste because lemon fulfills curiosity as cherry satisfies prior complications. 

 

Sana likes it, though. Foreign concoctions are a hundred times desirable compared to such drinks shoved into back in Japan. It's a shame that Dahyun finds no inclination towards it as they would've clinked glasses once the tray has settled atop their small coffee table. 

 

Aside from that, there's no other problem. Dahyun's preference of a drink doesn't sit well with Sana, and that was it. Damp, blonde hair attracts her first, but the adoration subsides as quickly as Dahyun's answer to the question of which drink to order. 

 

What is that supposed to mean? A dry attempt in pleasing her worries. It shouldn't mean anything, per se. They were off to soak in the setting sun this time, the day further reclining, at the hopes of lacing their silence together to cause an unusual stir of statements. Dahyun notices this, her tongue twisting itself to garner the courage, however ends in sympathy for hers alone. Sana doesn't mind either — she was just like that. The liquids were the only matters oppressing the atmosphere in which Sana justifies as the remaining perpetrators. 

 

"How was it?" Sana questions, lips puckered to the tip of her straw. She sips a little, subsequently savoring the aftertaste. 

 

Dahyun drinks naturally. From her glass, there is a very unfortunate consequence. It's an incomprehensible thing — to find salt in the nonexistent particles — still is parched for all that's in it. 

 

"Refreshing. I should have tried it sooner." Another sip.

 

Sana averts her gaze to circling shoulders, a liberating motion. Dahyun first returns the empty glass right where it belongs, ending it with a stretch. 

 

"Isn't it an advantage to come meet me, then?" 

 

The single straw is rotated by a finger, aiming for the lack of prediction. Sana doesn't anticipate any advances anymore, involving those coming from herself. To gauge the situation profoundly is an insult, vindicated by the laws of strange associations that Sana has encountered. 

 

This is one. 

 

"I wish it wasn't." Dahyun sniffs. She's playing along the game of avoiding contacts, eyes choosing to concentrate on the large, glass wall. 

 

Boundaries are ruined to reach for the floating opportunities, given that each is rarely granted. Lemons and cherries — two included, and many more to go. Incisive Sana only pursues the pungent taste of hers, breaking down to shards for an answer to shatter along with them.

 

Of quiet crossfires and insufferable prejudices, the sight in the distance seems to have a mind of its own. A hunch was established between: Dahyun's exhaustion is rigid, perpetuating like the minimalism cladding her words. Determination is the element helping Sana revolve around her own curiosity, dedicated to trust her balance in mind long enough. 

 

Their one-day battle. 

 

"Do you want to do anything else?" Dusk extends a hand to Sana's side, alluding a sulky, questioning look towards the other. 

 

Dahyun remembers the side notes left by Sana prior. Her ideas popped out of the box that day, results admired as the woman pulls herself to book a hotel room out of pure bliss. For a one-day stay that comprises uncanny knowledge and tragic epiphanies, it's a mere understatement for Sana to wish there was only one bed. 

 

"What's left for us to do?" 

 

"And I thought I should be asking that," Sana dryly laughs it off. "You know this place more than I do. I believe I'm a mere tourist, Miss Dahyun." 

 

Her gaze is full of wonder as the light kisses porcelain complexion in a golden approach, enveloping Dahyun's already magnificent appearance into something more of a masterpiece. The subject doesn't catch that gawking stare for her mind exceeds a personal boundary outside where the sun shines. An advantage it is for Sana who gains the impulse to flash her phone and picture the masterpiece through her screen, Dahyun far too oblivious to notice. 

 

The picture is displayed for adoration once, before it stores right where it belongs in Sana's pocket. At the perfect time, too; because Dahyun turns, a smile soaking up the glow of the outdoor prospect, and those pretty crescents that soon welcomes the evening adorns her countenance. 

 

"And a mere tourist like you should explore," she proposes next, voice dipped in a new flavor of fervid honey that begins to reassure Sana of her dying hopes. 

 

Another pretense diminishes once the moment lasts. Both glasses clean in vacancy as Dahyun stands to walk closer. Sana looks up, catching steady breaths above in a haste kiss near her nose. "Why don't we?" Dahyun offers a hand as she spoke, to which Sana takes without a second thought.