The musty restroom, although small, sufficiently protected Jennie and Jisoo from the cold and the storm above. There were two closed stalls — a restaurant flyer taped on the smaller one — and their belongings were piled by the entrance. Jisoo stood at the spotted mirror, dabbing her red eyes and wiping her runny nose with paper towels, while Jennie carefully rummaged through her bag for a certain book. With the only sounds being the rain’s muffled pitter-patter on the roof and sniffles from both parties, amplified was the sense of detachment from the outside world.

Jennie’s finger grazed over the wet leather of the binding and she tugged the book out from between clothes. It wasn’t looking too good for the scrapbook; everything in Jennie’s bag was soaked to the core. The coloring of the pages — gray with some stains of bled ink — was troubling, the surmise confirmed when turning to the first one. The splotches of black ink blemished the two polaroids, streaking down Jisoo’s face and freckling the film. A pang in Jennie’s chest stopped her from touching the photo in fear that it’d smear worse. Although half of Jisoo’s face was damaged, the restroom’s dim light reflected the outline of what would’ve been her smile.

“Is it okay?” Jisoo asked over her shoulder, wringing the ends of her hair with paper.

Jennie pursed her lips, carefully peeling through pages to avoid tears. Each was stained as far as she could see. She closed the book; her heart couldn’t take any more of the dismay.

“I think it’s salvageable,” Jennie replied with a small smile. “It needs to dry.”

Jisoo returned a small smile of her own, briefly hesitating before saying, “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“Don’t be. I needed it to, you know, snap some sense into me.”

She regarded Jennie for a moment before tossing the soaked paper ball into the trash can. “My luggage has dry clothes.” She pointed her chin toward the suitcase. “We should change out.”

“Did you really leave your whole luggage at the station?” Jennie chuckled, kneeling and unlocking the buckles of the suitcase as Jisoo limped closer. “You weren’t afraid it’d be stolen?”

“You’d be surprised how decent people are with belongings. They rarely take stuff that isn’t theirs.” Jisoo added as an afterthought, “And everyone was on the train. The station was practically empty.”

Jennie hummed, heaving the case open and letting the top fall against the wall. Inside were clothes neatly packed in rolls and toiletries in the interior compartments. “I thought the train left when I walked out. I heard the whistle.” She picked a shirt and handed it to Jisoo. “How did you get off?”

“There was something wrong with the tracks according to the conductor.” Jisoo graciously took the shirt, balancing with her crutch under her armpit to accept a pair of pants. “I think it was due to mud or something because of the rain.” She paused. “It gave me time to think.”

“I see.” Jennie bit her bottom lip to suppress a smile and stood up after picking out a shirt and pants of her own. How lucky was it that this rain had given her this chance? “Do you need help changing?”

“I’ll be alright. Thank you.”

As Jisoo changed in the bigger stall because of the convenience of space, Jennie listened intently for any indication of struggle as she changed in the neighboring stall. There were none, save for occasional grunts. The clothes were comfortable with that distinct vanilla scent. When Jisoo finally walked out, Jennie greeted her with the only extra coat in her suitcase, settling for a sweater.

“It’s pretty cold. Are you sure you don’t want the coat?” Jisoo frowned, tugging tentatively at the wool as Jennie squeezed the wet clothes into the suitcase.

Jennie shook her head. “This sweater is warm. By the way — uhm — what will we do? Where do we go from here?”

“We can go back to Chaeyoung’s — oh, I can take my luggage, don’t worry —”

“I’ll take it,” Jennie insisted, stepping back so the suitcase would be out of Jisoo’s reach, much to the older girl’s dismay, and slung on her backpack. “Did you say Chaeyoung’s? She doesn’t want to see me again. She said she’ll kill me if she does.”

Jisoo threw her head back and laughed. It echoed within the tiled acoustics and Jennie momentarily forgot they were in a musty public restroom in front of that pretty heart-shaped smile. “I’m sure she doesn’t mean it. She can’t even hurt a fly.”

“I don’t know.” Jennie in between her teeth. “She seems pretty capable. The type to murder people who hurt their loved ones; that sounds about Chaeyoung.”

“Yeah, it does,” Jisoo chuckled, opening the door to let Jennie step through and pointed her closed umbrella to her chest. “But she’ll have to get through me to kill you.”

“How chivalrous.”

The rain still poured. Not as teeming as before, but heavy enough to stream from the station’s roof like a waterfall as they stood under the gutter. The roar was now a soft rumble, making the rain peaceful to watch and not anything like the terror it was minutes prior.

“So, do we wait it out?” Jennie asked.

Jisoo glanced over, playful in her gaze. “Unless you want to run through it for old time’s sake. I have an umbrella this time.”
 

“What?” Jennie scoffed in disbelief and rolled her eyes. “We barely managed to dry ourselves just now.”

“I’m kidding. Do you think I can run in this state?” Jisoo jested and turned around. “We’ll wait it out; let’s sit here for now.”

Once they settled on a wooden bench nearby, the train whistle blew. It seemed like the train track problem was fixed. Jisoo glanced over her shoulder at the train fleetingly before averting to her fingers drumming on her knee. She looked disgruntled, the inference characterized by stitched brows.

“Were you betting on that offer from JYP?” Jennie carefully asked.

Jisoo nodded slightly. “Yeah. I, uhm,” she rubbed the nape of her neck, “got money from your father. To pay my expenses.” She reached into her coat pocket and fished out a soggy white envelope. “It’s wet, but —”

Jisoo’s eyes darted around nervously to everywhere but the person beside her. Jennie’s jaw set at the sight of the paper, but she eased Jisoo’s wrist down and patted her thigh. “Don’t feel bad about it.” She offered a reassuring smile. “You did your job. At least he paid you; I don’t have a single penny on me.”

“It’s just —” Jisoo let out a frustrated huff. “How could I accept this after everything? It feels dirty; it is dirty, but I need it and that’s what I hate. He knew I needed it and he gave it to me with the smuggest face. Is this his idea of compensation? It isn’t very good.”

The pout, the little furrow of her eyebrows, the rosiness of her cheeks — the corners of Jennie’s lips couldn’t help but curl up. “Well, what can you do? Don’t beat yourself up over it. Cheer up! Look, the rain stopped. The sky is beautiful.”

Soft sunlight in a muted blue, the faint colors of the rainbow arched beyond. The disgruntledness dispelled, and Jisoo’s eyes sparkled, lips parted — so bright it reflected the few droplets trickling from above.

“You’re right,” Jisoo breathed, taking Jennie’s hand in hers. “The sky is beautiful.”

~

As expected, Chaeyoung didn’t look very happy for their arrival at her door.

Her eyes might’ve lit up at the sight of Jisoo, but once they flitted towards Jennie, the elation changed to disbelief between the two girls. After an awkward silence, she swung the door shut, but the end of Jisoo’s crutch managed to wedge itself in between the door and its jamb in the nick of time to force a miniscule crack.

“Chaeyoung,” Jisoo puffed, craning to peer through the crack, palm on the wall for support. “Wait.”

Subsequently, the door wrenched open so forcefully it was a wonder how the hinges held on. Scowling, the brunette brusquely pointed at Jennie. “I literally told this girl that I’d kill her if I ever see her again.”

“You won’t.”

“Oh, you don’t think I will? Get out of the way —”

“Chaeyoung!” Jisoo yelled, stepping in between Jennie and the charging girl tying her hair up. While Jennie shrunk behind Jisoo’s shorter frame, Chaeyoung merely huffed. “Remember what I told you? Please don’t take it out on Jennie. She isn’t the one who did this to my ankle, nor my hand.”

“She might as well be.”

Jennie’s heart heavied at those words, twisted from the dirty look shot toward her. It was the truth, wasn’t it? It was a mistake to come here; Jennie didn’t deserve Chaeyoung’s hospitality. She dropped her gaze to the floor, not before Jisoo sent her an apologetic look and a pleading one to Chaeyoung. For a moment, Chaeyoung’s glare didn’t let down, but neither did Jisoo’s because eventually the latter faltered and sighed.

“You guys look like you’ve been freezing,” Chaeyoung grumbled and stepped to the side. “Come on, I’ll make you tea.”

The girl didn’t wait to watch them follow her; she simply left. Jennie regarded Jisoo precariously, to which Jisoo urged her with the nudge of her head and gestured toward the apartment. Jennie hesitated before entering.

As the scent of herbal tea wafted from the kitchen, they sat on the couch. Jisoo rested her crutch against the armrest and Jennie placed their bags by the foot of the cushions. On the way toward them with a silver tray of teacups and one teapot, Chaeyoung adjusted the knob of the radiator heater. A gentle whir of warmth and the toasty cup in Jennie’s hands was relaxing and ceased all traces left from the storm.

“So,” Chaeyoung began, arms crossed and one leg primly over the other on the chair she pulled from the kitchen, “I’m assuming it’s a long story.” She looked at the clock. “By now, you should’ve been on your way to Seoul.”

Jisoo rubbed her hands together and let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, it’s a long story.”

“Care to tell?”

“You probably won’t like it.”

“Probably,” she said with an affirmative nod. “I’m barely keeping my cool right now.”

“Then, it isn’t in your best interest to be told.”

“Perhaps not, but I’d still like to know. You know, why the the exact person you planned to not see again is sitting right next to you.”

“It’ll be different this time —”

“Different? Different? You actually believe that? Who's to say she won’t leave again?” Chaeyoung jabbed an angry finger toward Jisoo. “I trust you. I keep trusting you to take care of yourself — you’re older than me after all — but after everything I’ve seen, I can’t. Every time you tell me to trust you, you end up hurt. It,” she pounded her chest, “breaks my heart to see you in pain. I care about you so much, like my own sister. So, I can’t stand for this. I can’t stand being in the same room as Jennie. I can’t stand seeing her face after almost seeing you die.” She swallowed thickly. “It was scary. Seeing you like that — it terrified me. How can I believe it won’t happen again? When it seems that bad fortune just follows Jennie everywhere and you get caught in it? How is that fair? It’s not fair to us.”

The silence was heavy. Jisoo’s lips parted to say something, but Jennie beat her to it.

“You’re right.” Jennie set the teacup down on the table and met Chaeyoung’s glare. It cut daggers, but Jennie steeled herself against the perturbation; she’d seen worse. “You have the right to be angry at me. I do more harm than good. I — I will leave right now if that’s what you want.” Jisoo quickly placed her hand over Jennie’s, casting her a bewildered look, but Jennie’s eye contact never wavered. “But don’t think for a second that Jisoo betrayed your trust. She will never do you ill; the problem is me, so keep trusting Jisoo. Trust whatever she says, whatever she does.”

“She’ll choose you,” Chaeyoung murmured. Jennie’s gaze faltered, but Chaeyoung’s still held firm. “You tell me to trust her because you know she’ll choose you. She always does. Even if it’s life or death, she’ll choose you!”

“Chaeyoung…” Jisoo warned.

“Am I wrong?” Chaeyoung turned to Jisoo. “I feel like I’m talking to a wall. I say it over and over, but nothing is getting through. You were fine before you met Jennie again.”

“I wasn’t and you know that.”

“But it was better then. Now… it’s all a ticking time bomb. We’ll never know when everything will go to again.”

“I’ll take the risk,” Jisoo uttered, chin high, and held Jennie’s hand tightly. “We’ll take the risk if it’s for the chance for happiness. There’s no point in life if there’s no effort to change. I’d rather take this risk than stay stuck miserable.”

“Then,” Chaeyoung regarded Jennie, “leave right now. Step out of this goddamn room and get out of my face right now. Yes, that’s what I want; I want you to leave.”

“Chaeyoung —!” Jisoo straightened up but faltered when Jennie shook her head at her. She stood up and directed a short bow.

“I will leave —”

“— Jennie, sit down —”

“— because that’s what you want.” Jennie pulled away from Jisoo’s grip and retrieved her backpack. “I’ll leave if that’s what it takes, but I will wait outside. You won’t see me, but I’ll wait for Jisoo outside.”

Chaeyoung scoffed, “How about you scurry back to your big mansion and old man —”

“Cut it out, the both of you!” Jisoo shouted, startling the two. She heaved some angry breaths before digging her fingers into her disheveled hair and squeezing her eyes shut. “What’s the point of arguing? Why do you keep picking fights, Chaeng?”

“Me? Oh, you’re going to side with Jennie —”

“Yes, I am siding with Jennie! I can’t stay civil when all you do is refuse to be!” Jisoo chided, waving her arms, and Chaeyoung’s mouth snapped shut. “You’re not like this, Chaeng. You’re kind; you’re soft-hearted; you see the good in people. I’ve never seen you so mean to someone. You didn’t yell when that lady spat on your face, nor when that other lady threw your coffee on your shirt. You didn’t yell then, so why are you yelling now?”

Chaeyoung’s nostrils flared as she shot up from her seat, red in the face. “Because it’s you. If that lady had spat on you, I would’ve yelled. If that lady threw coffee on your shirt, I would’ve yelled. I would yell at them a thousand times if it were you instead of me. Don’t you understand? I’d thought you’d be more understanding.” She huffed, running her fingers through her fringe. “You would’ve yelled at them if you were there; you got angry when I told you and stormed out even though you have no idea who they were. You should know better than anyone where I’m coming from.”

The tension was thick and suffocating. Jisoo withdrew from the intense eye contact first, slumping in defeat and burying her face into her hands. Chaeyoung looked as if she’d say something else, but decided better of it, and stormed off to her room. It was until everything was silent that the vertigo hit, buckling Jennie’s knees, and she fell back onto the couch.

“Are you okay?” Jisoo asked, glancing over by the corner of her eye.

“Just exhausted,” Jennie replied, rubbing her temples. “I told you Chaeyoung wouldn’t be happy seeing me again.”

“It’s not that —”

“Then, what is it? Jisoo, stop trying to make me feel better. It isn’t working.”

The last comment might’ve been too harsh. Jennie bit down on her tongue to scold herself, hesitantly peering over at the older girl. Rather than angry, Jisoo’s gaze was soft.

“Let’s not overstay our stay then,” she reasoned, heaving herself up with a grunt. “We’ll wash up and recollect ourselves before we go. Do you want to wash up first?”

“After you. There’s a hairdryer here, right? I want to try to salvage any photos while I can.”

Aside from the calm, running water of the showerhead, the apartment was quiet for the most part. Jennie was drying the scrapbook pages with the lever to the lowest setting possible — too loud might lure Chaeyoung out, and it wasn’t certain that the girl had calmed down yet. There had yet been a peep from her room.

“What are you doing?” a voice asked from over Jennie’s shoulder.

“Ah!” Jennie yelped, jumping out of her skin. Her lower back hit the edge of the table when she spun around, the hairdryer missing Chaeyoung’s face by mere inches. She didn’t flinch though, eyes trained on the photos evenly spaced out on damp paper towels.

“Are these Jisoo?” Chaeyoung continued, heeding Jennie’s shaken state no mind and circling the table. Arms crossed, she hovered over the pictures with her hair over her shoulder and inspected each individual one.

Jennie cleared and recomposed herself. Chaeyoung was strangely calm, not like the sorehead she was minutes ago. “Yeah,” she answered. “My scrapbook got wet from the rain. These are the polaroids I’ve been able to save so far.”

“She hasn’t changed a bit,” Chaeyoung mumbled with a small smile, poking one of Jisoo hugging a wall to angle it for a better view.

Jennie smiled too, turning to the next page of the scrapbook. “She really hasn’t.”

Chaeyoung took one overview of the table before taking the seat across, leaning back in a casual demeanor. Although Jennie was focused on extracting the polaroid from the page, Chaeyoung’s gaze dug into her skull — so piercing it made Jennie look up from her task from the amount of unease exerted. Did she have something to say? Rather than Jennie reading Chaeyoung, whose expression was unexpectedly unreadable, it was Chaeyoung studying Jennie.

“If you’re here to berate me more,” Jennie said, “I won’t be staying long. Jisoo and I will clean up and be on our way —”

“Remember when you told me I should sing again?”

Jennie faltered. “Yes,” she answered, skeptic.

“I’ve been singing in my café recently,” Chaeyoung said. “I brought out my guitar — that hasn’t been tuned in years — and I sat on the window ledge and played. My customers liked it. A recruiter approached me and gave me a business card for a label.”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah. It is.”

The younger girl looked very lax despite the awkwardness in the air, or maybe that was just Jennie who thought this entire conversation was awkward. To be fair, how could she not after that whole ordeal? At any second, Chaeyoung could explode again.

“So, are you going to sign into the label?” Jennie asked and returned to drying the pages.

“I thought about it,” Chaeyoung hummed. “But what are the chances I’d succeed? There are so many talented singers in the world, how can I compete?”

“I think that,” Jennie flicked off the hairdryer to eliminate the low hum, “if you have family and friends to support you, you’ll go a long way. Even if the world wants to tear you down as you reach the top, you’ll have them to lean on, and, frankly, that’s all that matters.” She added quickly at the end, “I think.”

Jennie chanced a nervous glance at Chaeyoung staring at the photos splayed on the table. Slender fingers played with the ends of her brown curls, a small frown indicating that the girl was deep in thought.

“That’s all I need, huh?” she mused. “I’m just afraid no one would care to listen to my music. But if my family and friends listen, then that really is all that matters.” She looked at Jennie. “You’ve never had that kind of support, right?”

Jennie shook her head. “Never,” she said a tad too bitterly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry that I never had support? I don’t need the pity.”

“No. Sorry for being an .”

“I was wondering when you’d apologize.”

Chaeyoung shrugged. “I was debating on how to approach it.”

“Truthfully, you had the right to be mad. I would’ve been mad too if I were you.”

“I’m glad you understand then so I don’t have to explain myself. Don’t feel like you need to leave as soon as possible; feel free to stay as long as you need. Keep on doing whatever you’re doing,” she said, waving her hand dismissively.

Jennie narrowed her eyes. Was Chaeyoung testing her? The sudden swing in mood was suspicious, but the latter looked sincere for the most part. “Thanks,” she said dubiously.

Shortly after, Jisoo arrived from the shower in a t-shirt, boy shorts, and a towel on her shoulders to collect from her wet hair. She paused in her steps, eyes darting between Jennie and Chaeyoung, but Jennie reassured her with a small nod as she walked past to have her turn for a much-needed shower.

“Did you know Joohyun and Yeri are family?” Chaeyoung’s voice traveled from the kitchen when Jennie returned, refreshed in pajamas borrowed from the said girl.

“Really?” Jisoo exclaimed. “How do you know?”

“Seulgi told me. Yeri came by to drop something off, and it so happens that Joohyun greeted her at the door — hey, Jennie,” Chaeyoung acknowledged once Jennie stepped foot into the kitchen. “Did you know Joohyun had a sister?”

“I think she mentioned it once,” Jennie pondered, pulling up a chair beside Jisoo sipping from a box of banana milk. “Thinking about it, I don’t really know much about her…”

“Ah, I see.”

“Oh, sorry about the mess on the table. I forgot to clean up before I showered.”

“It’s okay.” Chaeyoung waved it off. “Leave them out; the pictures haven't dried yet. Anyway, what are you two planning to do? Still going to Seoul?”

The question seemed to be directed more toward Jisoo who nodded in response. “Yeah. We’ll catch the next train. But our belongings are a little ruined from the rain, so we need to go to the laundromat and stuff. Have you ever been to Seoul, Jennie?”

“A few times, but I’m not very familiar with it. Didn’t observe very much.”

“Perfect.”

Jennie laughed. “Why? Isn’t that the complete opposite?”

Jisoo flashed a toothless smile and squeezed Jennie’s hand. “Because it’ll be a fresh adventure.”

~

Maybe it's the cherry blossoms that proclaimed this winter over.

The sky was clear. The leaves were green. The breeze was crisp. A singular, pink cherry blossom drifted down from above and settled on the crown of Jisoo’s head. The train whistled in the distance, followed by the rumble of the approaching locomotive.

“Ready?” asked Jisoo, balancing on her crutch after standing up from the bench.

Jennie hoisted the suitcase and slung her backpack on as she rose from her seat. She plucked the cherry blossom off, letting it go from between her fingertips to fly with the wind, and took Jisoo’s outstretched hand.

“Ready,” Jennie said with a firm nod.

As everyone boarded the train, with one foot on the step, Jennie took one last look toward the city. The spring had never looked so beautiful.