Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

- Dylan Thomas

Seulgi hates rain. Sometimes when it does rain, she would blast her earphones with random music as she reads a book. She doesn't like reading books, however. So most of the time, she finds herself getting high from her brother’s stash under the floorboards. It’s better than using her stash, and it helps her tune everything out.

(There's something she's forgetting)

Oh the windows, they're not open. 

She hauls herself off the bed, taking a few furtive steps towards the window before she grasps the handle and opens it. 

Seulgi is blasted with a burst of wind and her face is sprinkled with rain. 

“,” she mutters - wiping the moisture off her face. 

“Potty mouth.” Seulgi frowns. Her door is locked, and there's no one in the room with her.

She looks out the window, her eyes settling on a small lithe figure lounging on her front steps. It's Sooyoung.

“What're you doing here?” Seulgi questions, leaning forward with her arms supporting her on the windowsill. She points to the grey, cloudy sky. “It's raining.” 

(Sooyoung never comes out when it rains, especially if it's on the weekends)

“As you said, it's raining,” Sooyoung answers, playing with some sort of paper in her hand. “I rang four times. Guess you were too ed up to notice.”

Seulgi purses her lips, watching Sooyoung shift in place. (She's impatient)

“Wait there. I'm coming.” Seulgi snuffs the blunt out and slips on her slippers. She almost falls twice on her way to the front door, once in the hallway, and once on the stairs. However, she gets there, albeit breathless and wanting to rip out.

She unlocks the door, and again when she opens the door - the disgusting rain sprinkles her face.

“ing damn it.” She wipes her face. “These little s won't stop.”

“Don't smoke if you're going to cuss like that.” Sooyoung passes by Seulgi, stepping towards the living room. “It doesn't suit you.”

Seulgi grunts as she closes the door. Following Sooyoung, she notices the piece of paper in the girl’s hand neatly folded into a square. “What the occasion? Sunmi take your v-card?”

Sooyoung scoffs as she falls on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. “As if. She saw me once and didn't talk to me for a week.” She flashes the paper in her hand. “This is for you.”

Seulgi’s eyes crinkle, and she cautiously takes the folded paper from Sooyoung’s hand. “I don’t get it,” she says when she looks at the scribbles. It's just a bunch of letters strewn together into one large word of gibberish. 

“It's code. Now I know how much you love your puzzles so I'll leave you to it.”

Seulgi tosses the paper on the coffee table, and she rubs her face into her hands. “I'll deal with it later. I'm too high to function right now.”

Sooyoung scoffs. “Do you hate me that much?”

Seulgi takes this chance to lie beside Sooyoung - resting her head on the armrest. She has a panging headache, and she'd rather not deal with Sooyoung’s annoyance. “Yup and you know why. Now, why don't you run along back to Sunmi? You’re so high strung lately.”

“ you.” 

“Point proven.” Seulgi yawns. “Doors that way. I trust you're smart enough to know how to use it.”

Sooyoung darts up. “No wonder Irene left you,” she hisses before storming off to the front door.

(Low blow, Sooyoung. Low blow.)

Seulgi mindlessly stares at the front door - her head still resting on the armrest. Her eyes flicker between the paper and door, and she sighs before hurling herself with great difficulty towards the paper - grabbing it before lying back down.

(In a few weeks, Seulgi would be thanking Sooyoung for this. Silently, of course. She'd never let that narcissistic theatre scrub know she’s thankful.)

After an hour, she solves it. Easy. Too easy, and it gives Seulgi shivers down her spine from how fast she had figured it out. 

Off in the hill, under the tree, there's a small gift waiting for thee.

A poem. Seulgi almost laughs. Although she stops herself - having noticed that the t’s curl upwards and the a’s are written as though it was typed on a typewriter. She knows this handwriting, and the nostalgia welling up inside manages to cause flashbacks that she'd rather not recall.

It's Seungwan.

“How old is this?” She examines the paper, front and back. Nothing. The ink isn't faded nor is the paper dull and worn. It's new, Seulgi surmises. It just doesn't make sense why it's here, why her late best friend’s handwriting came to her at this time.

(Seulgi wants to forget Seungwan. It doesn't work when she's in her right mind.)

There’s a sakura tree planted by the old stadium. It's the only one left. It had survived the fire, and it’s been used as a memorial for the victims - although these days, the flowers had all but wilted and the plaques of remembrance are faded and erased. The town has forgotten the tragedy, and Seulgi is thankful that they have.

She doesn't want to be reminded of it all.

Seungwan always loved to talk in rhymes, though sometimes she’d say, ‘There's something in the rain’. Sometimes Seulgi would pass it off, sometimes she’d play along.

(“Trees and blokes are nothing but egg yolks!” A young Seungwan runs around the sakura forest as Seulgi reads her novel from the bottom of the tree trunk.

“Nice rhyme Seungwan!” Irene sits beside Seulgi, nuzzling her head in the younger girl’s neck. 

Hours pass as they bask in the glow of the forest. Seungwan always liked it here. It kept her calmer than usual.

A drizzle and it gets stronger. Seulgi sighs, disappointed their time here is over, and she helps Irene up from the ground. “Come on, let's go.”

“There's something in the rain!”

Seulgi laughs and Irene follows. “Last one to the house gets the ugly blue blouse!”)

She doesn't notice the tears that expel from her eyes until they cloud her vision and she's forced to wipe them off. She struggles to lift herself, but eventually, with a crack in her bones and with her last breath, she does. 

Upstairs. She needs to go upstairs to sort this out. Go upstairs to get dressed. Go upstairs to find her old baseball hat from Seungwan.

Go upstairs to smoke one more because she’s not going to that place sober.

Irene is the last person she wishes to see right now. Maybe it's because of the way she tucks her hair behind her ear or the way her lips turn into a snide smile when she spots Seulgi off in the distance. Though Seulgi would like to say that she doesn't find these things to be attractive, she knows she'd be lying if she does, and lying makes her stomach churn with something nuclear.

(There are more things Seulgi would like to forget, but there's the downside of being high: you have little control.)

“You smell,” Irene remarks, waving her hand in front of her nose. “Taehyung got another batch? He’s stupid like you I guess.”

“As much as I would like to agree, my brother didn't leave me when I needed him most. He can be as stupid as he wants.” Seulgi watches Irene scrunch her nose in annoyance, and she inwardly revels in her ex-girlfriend’s displeasure. She reaches into her pocket, palming the paper, and reveals it. “You get this too?”

Irene holds up her paper, and Seulgi could tell that Irene isn't looking for a fight anymore - having probably remembered their deceased friend. Now Seulgi would like to say Irene doesn't care anymore, considering how any mention of Seungwan in the annual town briefings would make her sleep, but she knows that isn't true. Irene adored Seungwan.

“Who gave you yours?” Seulgi questions. “Sooyoung for me.”

“It was mailed, tucked away in a cover of Don Quixote,” Irene answers, and Seulgi senses that she isn't lying. Good, she can trust her this time. “Unknown sender,” Irene adds.

Seulgi nods and inches closer to the sakura tree. She crouches, taking one of the plaques that had once adorned the tree with great pride, but its words are blurry and its message screwed. It’s hers.

“It was my fault.” Seulgi holds the plaque tighter, and she looks past the lone sakura tree towards the burnt tree trunks - serving as a more somber reminder of the past. “I didn't believe her.”

“It was no one’s fault Seul.” Irene crouches beside Seulgi, also taking one of the faded plaques. Seulgi grimaces from the familiar nickname. “Seungwan was just at the wrong pl-”

“Is that your family’s?” Seulgi interrupts - deflecting the memory Irene was about to resurface. 

Irene sighs and nods. She runs a thumb over the paint - making the plaque more blurry than it already is. Back then she'd come here alone - reading each and every plaque, but nowadays, she does what Seulgi does and turns memories into mere pockets of recurrence. She'd never tell that to Seulgi; she still thinks she’s coming here every weekend to mourn and remember.

(Irene thinks it's the last thing Seulgi loves about her)

“Do you think they cared about her?” Irene asks. She sets the plaque down against the tree. “I think they did.”

Seulgi also sets the plaque she is holding down. She turns to Irene. “Don't lie. They called her weird and strange all sorts of derogatives. Even my therapist told me she was troubled.”

Seulgi slumps her shoulders and looks down at the plaques. “And for the second I believed them, she goes and dies on me.”

Irene exhales the breath she was holding and grabs Seulgi by the shoulder. It's warm and comforting, and Seulgi wishes it isn't, because she's remembering feelings that she once had, and she doesn't want to remember anymore.

Seulgi shrugs Irene’s hand off her shoulder and stands up. “I'm going to check under all these plaques. You go do whatever.”

Seulgi ignores how Irene helps her uncover the ground from the plaques and wilted flowers. She ignores the drops of sweat that fall from Irene’s face, and she ignores the forlorn look Irene gives her that she wishes isn't because she still has feelings for her.

(But she has little control)

“Seul-”

“Found it,” Seulgi interjects, and she holds up a small box that hid under a large wooden plaque. “Let's see what they want.”

Irene stays silent as Seulgi pries open the box. There's a twinkle within, and she inches closer to catch a glimpse of what it is.

“I don't get it.” Irene tenderly grabs the piece of jewelry in her hand. “It's just jewelry.”

Seulgi shakes her head. “You were always so one dimensional.” She shows Irene the box. An inscription on the inside reads, Rain is a pain, Seulgi would say. As for my maties, you could try Katie.

“Katie,” Irene whispers and she gulps. “Do you know what that-”

“Of course.” Seulgi tucks the box into her jacket pocket. “I just hope she’s not actually where I think she is.”

“Does she know something?” Irene asks - her face morphing into a frown and worry. “Is that why she left?”

Seulgi groans at Irene’s pestering and she says, “Irene, I preferred it when you didn't talk to me for months. You're making me see the silver lining of you leaving.”

Irene scoffs, brushing a stray hair on her face away. “You're insufferable.”

Seulgi steps towards the old stadium when she answers nonchalantly, “Ditto.”

Seulgi walks away, back to her house on the outskirts of town. She filters out Irene’s shrieks as she does, and she pats the box in her jacket pocket.

(Irene makes it hard for Seulgi to think. She has this ability to catch Seulgi’s attention no matter what she does, and it doesn't help when they’re trying to figure out what the hell is going on.)

To Katie it is.

Seulgi could hardly tell the difference between reality and fantasy. It's mostly due to the weed, but she’s questioning if this game she’s been set upon is real, and she knows it’s not because she’s high.

Seungwan always loved these kinds of games, these puzzles, and riddles that take you places to find the next clue. She’d set up the town as the playground, and Irene and she were the ones who’d entertain her. Of course, other people were invited, but they’d rather call Seungwan other things than ‘friend’.

She’s resting on her bed, hands carrying the small box, and she examines it over and over. Mulling over the inscription, she bites her lip when she recognizes that the handwriting is a match with Seungwan.

If this is a game Seungwan would want them to play, then they shall play it.

Seulgi will never let Seungwan be alone anymore.

The Kim Family. Rich and powerful. They live a few hours away, upon a hill surrounded by a small town. The youngest, Yeri, would always visit their town, but after the fire - the sakura trees that she loved were gone and so was she.

It would be more than a few hours for Seulgi to arrive, considering her mode of transportation is a rusty old bike she had found in her basement and that her ex-girlfriend wouldn't take ‘no’ for an answer.

So, Seulgi’s beet-faced as she struggles to peddle the two of them up north to the house upon a hill, Irene suffocates Seulgi by wrapping her arms around her waist.

They stop at a clearing halfway, next to the sea, and Seulgi could see Irene running over to the water. Irene always loved the sea; Seulgi doesn't see the hype. There are dangerous creatures, and it could kill you. However seeing the smile etched on the older girl’s face leaves her mind blank, and she can't think about the negatives of it all anymore.

“Seul! Come over here!” Irene calls, beckoning her over, and Seulgi would decline if not for the expectant look on Irene’s face. Seulgi sighs, and she curses herself for being so weak for her ex-girlfriend.

Seulgi walks over, stepping over broken twigs, towards the water, and she could feel the breeze that hits her face. 

It’s been years since the salty air fills her lungs. With Irene at her side, it feels like old times, but then Seulgi remembers Seungwan would always be at the other side and she frowns.

“Do you remember how much Seungwan loved the sea? She'd always beg us to take her out.” Irene appears at her side, holding a pearl in her hand. She juts her hand out, offering it to Seulgi and Seulgi takes it. “For you,” Irene mutters.

Seulgi gives a curt nod. “Thanks,” she mumbles before stuffing the shiny pearl in her jacket pocket along with the small box. “Seungwan was allergic to the sand though. Gave her hives and all that.”

“That didn't stop her though.”

Seulgi releases a tiny laugh. “I remember sneaking into the pharmacy to get some meds. The way she wolfed them down.” She smiles from the memory.

Seulgi shares a look with Irene, and Irene is close - way too close for Seulgi’s liking, and she steps away - hoping that the resurgent feelings wouldn't surface any more than it has already. 

“Come on. We’ll get there by sundown if we go now.” Seulgi walks towards the old bike resting against a tree, a bag of supplies hanging on the handle.

“I thought you hated lying,” Irene whispers under her breath.

Seulgi doesn't hear it.

The town under the hill is way nicer than the trash they've been living in. The streets are clean, and there doesn't seem to be the added threat of someone shanking you in the middle of it. Sometimes, Seulgi dreams of living in a place like this, but she’s a junkie with all her savings being spent towards feeling as though she’s not living in the world she's living.

She’s not cut out for such a posh society like this.

They walk side by side, Seulgi holding the bike and Irene holding the bag of supplies that they brought just in case. 

Seulgi points to the top of the hill. A house, wait no, a mansion sits on top. It’s like Transylvania, but Seulgi doesn't think vampires are living inside it and she pays it no mind. “That's Kim’s house. Callsign Katie.”

“I still can't believe Seungwan talked us into getting code names. What was yours? Crow or something.”

“Bear,” Seulgi informs. “And that's better than Lady Rabbit,” she teases. “I swear you’re bad with names. You call your cat Lady Cat.”

“Don't insult Lady Cat that way! She’s precious.” 

Seulgi shakes her head as a slight grin form on her face, not bothering to continue this baseless conversation any longer. She looks to the lanterns adorning the streets - the strings hanging from house to house. “What do you suppose those are for?” She points up at the lanterns.

Irene follows Seulgi’s hand, and she shrugs. “Probably some local event. Like our Sakura Festival, well not anymore, but you know what I mean.”

Seulgi nods, and she senses something strange the more she sees of this town. “Doesn't this town look a little old to you? The roads are cobblestone, the houses look like they’re from the medieval times, and there’s no one out.”

“As I said, local event,” Irene says curt, and she speeds up past Seulgi. Seulgi watches with a curious eye, and when Irene stops and turns around pointing at a building - she raises a brow in anticipation. “Let’s eat. I'm starving.”

Seulgi almost laughs, but she holds it in when she hears Irene’s stomach growling.

“No money,” Seulgi says, a guilty look on her face. “Used it all.”

(Seulgi likes to think Irene doesn't mind her habit, but she knows that that isn't true when Irene would take pleasure in informing Taehyung that Seulgi steals from his stash.)

Irene groans and after they exchange looks, she slumps her shoulders. “I'll pay then.” She gestures with her head as she opens the door. “You owe me, though.”

“Thanks,” Seulgi mutters before she ducks inside. 

It's more of a café than a restaurant, but Seulgi supposes it's enough. It's not as if she’s paying; beggars can't be choosers. 

They give a slight bow to the barista, who watches them with a pointed look, and they take their seats by the window. 

Eventually, a waitress approaches them - a beaming smile on her face with all her teeth and gums showing. If Irene isn’t here, Seulgi would try flirting, but Irene hates all types of PDA that didn't involve herself, and Seulgi refrains.

“I'll be your server for the night. My name is Yuju. Drinks?” Yuju doesn't take her eyes from Seulgi the whole time she spoke, and Seulgi could see the fire from Irene’s eyes in her peripherals.

“Water for both of us.” Irene’s voice is laced, no, drenched with venom, and Seulgi could only telepathically scream ‘run’ to their waitress, but she’s not an esper so it probably did not work.

The waitress leaves with more than panic in her step, and Seulgi could only sigh exasperatedly at the woman in front of her. “You didn't have to scare her. She’s just doing her job.”

“And is that job flirting with you? I think not.”

“Irene,” Seulgi starts. “You're not my girlfriend.” (Oh boy)

It shuts Irene up, and Seulgi slightly feels bad, but Irene needs to hear the truth. After all, Irene left her first.

The rest of the dinner is set in silence - their eyes like opposing magnets, close to meet but not sticking together. 

Seulgi does not mind it; she’s had worse from Irene from the times her ex ignored her, threw her away like some trash. 

When dinner is over, it’s Seulgi who leads, wielding the bike in her arms, while Irene situates herself a few steps behind, and Seulgi feels the stares.

They’re scalding.

They walk until they meet a gate - giant and intimidating - with the initials KF.

Kim Family

Seulgi shoots a look up the hill beyond the gates, the lights from the mansion on top still shining bright, and she could feel expectant stares from the windows. She can’t see anyone just yet, but she knows someone or something is watching them right now.

Anticipation fills Seulgi’s veins when she rings the bell, a literal one, with a chain and all.

Much to Seulgi’s prediction, the gate opens, slowly and menacingly, and she drops all pretenses of conflict between Irene and her and shoots a hesitant look behind her.

A hand on her shoulder comes and a nod of encouragement follows.

With such a simple gesture, Seulgi’s courage surges, and she doesn’t even try to stifle the thought that Irene’s the only person to calm her down this way, so easy and so effortless.

Seulgi admits Irene affects her so much that it’s painful to even say she doesn’t because that means she’s lying and that’s worse than whatever Irene’s ever done to her.

Because Seungwan had told her lying was the worst thing she could do.

And because Seungwan had always been lied to when she was alive.

“Let’s go.” Seulgi steels, shrugging off the hand on her shoulder and heaving the bike forward. Irene only purses her lips and shakes her head before she follows.

The path is asphalt, long and winding, and Seulgi doesn’t take her eyes off the windows - attempting to snare a glimpse of one resident of the Kim mansion. 

She’s heard stories, gruesome and terrifying, and if the youngest, Kim Yeri, answers them at the door, then they might have a chance with this game Seungwan has embroiled them in. Yeri seems to be the only sane one according to the stories.

If it’s not, then there’s one choice for Irene and her.

Run.

The front door is less intimidating than the gate, but nevertheless, it's chilling. It’s plain, but it’s large and the welcome mat from under them screams irony. 

Nothing about this whole situation has been welcoming.

It's ing terrifying that's what.

“Here we go,” Seulgi mutters as she presses the doorbell, and she could hear the ringing from the inside. Slow and calm steps are heard, and fear broils in Seulgi’s veins. She grips the handles of her bike, and she plants her foot forward - ready to turn at a millisecond notice.

Seulgi turns stiff when the door opens, but then she sees it's the youngest and she keeps her guard, but less alarmed than before.

“Kang Seulgi,” Kim Yeri declares. She turns her attention to the girl at the bottom of the steps. “Bae Irene .”

“What’s your business, here?” Yeri adds.

Seulgi sets aside her bike, leaning against the mansion. Yeri shoots her a look of chagrin for her tactless move, but Seulgi doesn’t mind it; displeasure is common towards her.

“This,” Seulgi states, seizing the small box inside her jacket pocket, and revealing it. “It has your sign.”

Yeri takes the box in her hands, giving a wary eye before she opens it and examines the inscription. After a moment of careful delibe