If you were to ask Minju if she believes in soulmates until now, the girl would not hesitate to say no. Being her dramatic and weird self, Minju believes she’s had her taste of love even with a relationship and body count of zero. Having multiple unrequited loves counts right? Minju thinks she knows what love is until she doesn’t. She thinks she doesn’t know what love is until she does.

Hyewon’s existence in her life in a way, was also secure and something she didn’t fear. A girl 13 hours ahead of her who had her own thing going on with her own priorities wasn’t a threat to her. Sure, Minju felt feelings for Hyewon, but would there be a risk of having things be awkward between them?

Would they ever have to act on these feelings? No, not exactly. Distance was their reason not to begin. Distance has always been the unspoken reason they would never take these feelings seriously. 

Even Hyewon, who doesn’t understand her own emotions, realizes that even if she was smart in the love department, she would continue to put a blind eye to it.

Until time and space decides that they would no longer stand in between the two. Hyewon’s sudden announcement that she would be in the same time zone as Minju in less than two months was alarming to the latter, but nonetheless, a change she would welcome. Afterall, Minju wasn’t greedy. She was willing to wait and willing to forget that their meeting would never be certain. The time of their first meeting would always have a ‘TBA’ label and Minju grew content with that.

She goes to sleep and this time, she realizes that she no longer has to look forward to meeting Hyewon in her dreams.

… 

The two months go by a little too quickly for Hyewon. It’s the night before her flight and her parents seem unbothered at all, but certainly, there’s a different air in their household that night. Hyewon wasn’t the type to stay up late, so she wasn’t sure if her crankiness was a result of the thought of staying up until three in the morning to get on the plane and doze herself to dreamland — or, if it was because she simply couldn’t accept leaving the place she’s called her home for her whole life.

She sits on the floor, in front of her suitcase and a pile of clothes beside it. She’s contemplating life like she hasn’t been doing this for the past month or so. Her younger brother barges in and asks her if she took his spare toothbrush and she shakes her head silently. Just as her younger brother is about to leave she calls after him and asks for a kiss on the cheek like she does everyday. Some of her friends may laugh at her or call her clingy, but to her, that simple kiss on the cheek is a sense of comfort and reassurance that everything is fine. Everything will be fine. 

He kisses her and leaves the room. Once again, shes left to her own thoughts and she continues to pack, knowing that her tantrums wouldn’t work this time. She’s scared. She’s lonely just thinking of it. As if the event of leaving itself wasn’t overwhelming enough, her four days of straight goodbyes to her friends from both high school and college was a blur that pulled her closer to the ground. In less than six hours, she would be among the clouds that she would only pray to.

The last week has been one of tears, nostalgia, and separation anxiety. She trusted the bond they shared, and in a way, the quarantine already gave her a taste of what long-distance felt like. Even with the stay-at-home order, Hyewon’s friends stayed in contact with her and she never felt like their bond depended on frequently hanging out together. Their friendship was put to a test, and this new change would only be a harder test, but not impossible to pass.

Her parents knocked on her door to check on how her packing has been progressing (or not). To their surprise, Hyewon was just about finished and she was slumped on her sheetless mattress, dressed in sweats and an oversized hoodie. Minju recommended it since the airplane can be quite cold.

“You’re ready, aren’t you?” Her mother teased, trying to easen her anxiety. That didn’t work, obviously, because while moms know best, they often choose the wrong words to say. Hyewon just shrugs and whines a little under her breath, but she returns to her small cellular device and sees Minju’s message.

“Let me know where you arrive. I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

Hyewon grimaces as she remembers she agreed to Minju’s offer. Right after they realized Hyewon would be within her area, Minju offered to pick her and her family up at the airport. Taxi prices can be expensive, she says as a matter of fact. Hyewon, being the good daughter she is, lets her parents decide for her.  To her surprise, her parents are more excited than skeptical about this friend Hyewon has never formally introduced to them. 

“Don’t be afraid. The sky looks a lot more intimidating up close. But remember, it’s just the sky. The same sky you’ve been looking at from afar.”

Hyewon released a breath she didn’t realize she’s been holding in up until now. Her shoulders relax and she knows Minju wasn’t only alluding to the sky. Minju would still be the same girl she’s talked to for the past year or so. Things would be different, but she had nothing to fear. Minju is the same girl that made her feel things.

“I won’t be afraid… not with you giving me that support. Thanks, Min.”

… 

It’s been a year since the COVID-19 pandemic caught the attention of the world, and the Hirai family upon arriving at the airport are still wearing masks. Vaccines have been approved and the Hirai family made sure to take them before they bought their flight tickets. Hyewon stared at her surroundings, a modern airport that she only stepped foot on to welcome back her friend from Canada or distant family members. She would’ve never imagined that one day, she would be here as a passenger.

“Hyewon?”

The line goes faster than expected. Maybe it’s currently eight in the morning in August, or maybe Hyewon simply doesn’t want to go.

The attendee scans her boarding pass and Hyewon feels like her heart is about to burst out of her chest. She takes one last look behind her and takes a step forward. Her mother just stares at her, not saying a word. Hard is an understatement to the adjustment Hyewon would make in a crucial moment in her life. It’s only been a couple months since she graduated college back in June, but it feels like she had longer to live in Seoul. It was too soon.

She doesn’t realize that after the boarding gate, there’s a lot more to an airport. There’s this weird long, seemingly endless square-shaped tunnel that connects to the airplane directly. In movies, she remembers the actors walking up the stairs to a plane. At least, with the tunnel, Hyewon doesn’t have the ability to look outside before she steps foot on the plane. 

A stewardess welcomes her and she forces a smile behind her mask. Her eyes squint a little and she is the last one of her family to enter. Her younger brother asks her if she could take the window seat to which Hyewon shrugs. She’d do anything for Kyeongwoo. She babies him a lot even though he’s only a couple years younger than her.

As she takes her seat, she finally has the time to process that what she sees past the window is something she wouldn’t see for awhile. The view is breathtaking. It’s her first and last time seeing it.

(For now, she convinces herself. Last, for now.)

Maybe that’s why it’s breathtaking. It’s a first and a last for her. We tend to treasure things that are the first and last. 

Perhaps, Hyewon would grow to treasure people who last and not only the first to enter her life. She sees herself treasuring Minju even if the girl wasn’t any of her firsts.

She takes a picture of view and sends it to Minju with a caption, “See you soon.”

(...my light at the end of the tunnel.)

She puts her phone on airplane mode almost subsequently and glances to her left only to find her brother already asleep. She mentally laughs at the difference between them. She’s here, worrying that she won’t be able to fall asleep on her first flight, while her brother is fast asleep. It’s not like he’s ever been on a plane either.

After the many demonstrations for a safe flight and smooth reactions to the rare occurrence of a crash happening, Hyewon stares straight ahead at the mini TV behind the chair of the person in front of her. It starts playing a random movie and Hyewon doesn’t bother to plug in the free earphones by her seat. She stares at the screen like it’s a silent movie, but what pulls her back to reality is the rough takeoff of the airplane. It’s not exactly a sign of danger, but she’s not used it at all. In fact, as the plane’s legs leave the platform, she feels her heart float along with it.

Kyeongwoo is fast asleep and she barely stops herself from looking out the window. Every beginner of airplane rides knows that rookie mistake. She does it anyway and finds that what Minju said was right.

The clouds were beautiful, not scary. The fact that she was among them made her forget for a moment that she would be travelling to an unknown place where loneliness would soon settle. Minju always took her for a woman who lived, thought, and breathed the present. They had a small joke, which wasn’t fully a joke, that Hyewon would always pull her in the present when Minju started to overthink the future.

Hyewon cracks a tiny smile as she realizes that now, Minju is the one who pulls her in the present.

...

Ten hours in the flight, Hyewon wakes up, feeling tense with her bowel movements being out of order. Haurto is still fast asleep so she tries her best to manuever herself in front of him without waking him up. She makes it past and scans her surroundings in a haze. The lights were still off. She checks the time. It’s 2:20 PM. But it’s been 10 hours since her 8 AM flight, so shouldn’t it be 6 PM?

Hyewon tiredly cracks a smile and a stewardess in the corner points to a small cubicle that seems like a restroom just by the looks of it. She nods a thank you and does her business. As she sits on the toilet, she can’t help but think in amusement that she is doing this up in the air.

She takes her phone out to share this random thought with Minju, but remembers she’s on airplane mode and puts it back in her pocket.

She leaves the bathroom after washing her hands and goes back to her seat like a spy, not wanting to disturb Kyeongwoo’s sleep. Her head is aching and she stays awake for awhile, just staring at the tracker thing on the TV. They’re currently flying above an ocean. Specifically, the North Pacific Ocean. New Jersey looks like another day’s trip worth just by seeing the miles left.

Better sleep now while I’m still half asleep, she thinks.

Another four hours fly by, and by the end of it, Hyewon is ready to jump and run 20 miles straight. She thought sitting for 14 hours straight wouldn’t be too bad. I mean, it’s just sitting right? 

Wrong. It’s as if Hyewon was trapped in the cramped economy seats that never left enough leg room for tall people. She has never wanted to be short so much in her life. Her parents who were sitting in the middle area of the plane glanced at her with smiled.

That smile reminded her of home.

Yet, this wasn’t home. It hits her then that she’s no longer home. The plane seems shakier than earlier, perhaps because the altitude just keeps decreasing a