There are a lot of things Choi Yuna doesn’t expect to happen to her, and ninety percent of those things are directly related to Jung Eunbi, her best friend for her entire six years of life.

“Hey, Choi Yuna!”

When you’re best friends with Eunbi, and have spent your whole life together, you learn to expect the unexpected, though. It’s never, ever boring being her friend, at least.
But even that doesn’t prepare her for Eunbi calling out her name as she runs over to her at the park right near their houses where Yuna had been hard at work building a sand castle that Eunbi accidentally plants her foot in and wrecks in her excitement to reach Yuna.

“Here.” Before Choi Yuna can react, or even say anything at all, Eunbi shoves something into her hand, stands there in front of her waiting, expectant.

Like she’s supposed to know what to do with this.

“Yuna, I’m waiting,” Eunbi singsongs, drawing out the simple phrase in a completely annoying way that irritates Yuna even more.

“What’s this for?” She brushes her hands off, and looks down at what Eunbi had given her. It’s a ring, plastic, a bright blue with a weird looking figure on it—one of those toys you could get out of the machines at the store.

“I thought you were smarter than that, Yuna.” Eunbi looks disappointed now that she can’t just expectantly wait for whatever she thinks Yuna should do with the ring and has to explain it instead.

“You can’t just shove a ring in someone’s hand and expect them to know what to do, stupid!” She stands so she’s face-to-face with Jung Eunbi instead of having to look up at her. “What do you want?”

Eunbi sighs, dramatic, as usual, like she expects Yuna to be able to read her mind with no context. “You’re supposed to give a ring to the person you want to be together forever with, Yuna.” She says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like Yuna is stupid for not realizing right away.
The slight twinge of anger she felt melts away, then. “Wait, so you’re giving it to me?” She doesn’t really understand the warm feeling that washes over her, just that it’s there and it feels kind of, sort of nice to think that they’ll be together forever.

“No,” Eunbi says and the feeling is gone as quickly as it appeared. “I want you to give it to me.”

She’s joking. She has to be joking.

But she’s not. Eunbi is completely serious, tapping her foot expectantly as she waits for Yuna to do what she wants.

“Well?”

“You seriously bought a ring for me to give to you?”

It’s unconventional at best, ridiculous at worst. But then again, most things with Jung Eunbi are—never easy, never conventional, always a wild ride she can’t seem to get off of.

But it’s one she doesn’t want to get off of.

Eunbi sighs, rests her hands on her hips as she leans in closer to Yuna. “Yuna, we’ve seen this on TV before, remember? When two people want to be together forever, they’re supposed to get married. And someone has to do the asking, you know!”

Yuna may not be an expert on the subject of marriage proposals, isn’t that familiar with them except for what she’s seen on TV, but she’s pretty sure you’re not supposed to shove a ring into someone’s hand and wait expectantly for them to propose to you. Only bratty six year old Eunbi would do something like that and think it’s fine.

So Yuna shoves the ring back into her hand. “You can ask, then! It’s your idea! And besides, who says I want to marry you?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Eunbi looks mildly offended, and Yuna has to hold back a laugh at her puffed out cheeks. “We’ve been friends forever, anyway. Aren’t we going to stay together?”

Then, the idea seems like a possibility, something she wouldn’t mind at all. Because she’s known Eunbi since they were babies, can’t remember a time when they weren’t by each other’s sides. Eunbi is a constant presence, one she’s grown used to and welcomes and enjoys being around no matter how annoying she can get. It’s only natural to assume they’ll be this way in the future.

Forever isn’t something six year old kids think about, though. Not in the sense that this promise signifies, at least. The idea of marrying Eunbi is a little strange, weird, but if it means staying together, Yuna doesn’t think she minds it.
So she sighs and takes the ring back from Eunbi, takes her hand in her own and slides the ring on her finger. “There. Happy?"

Eunbi, as always, isn’t satisfied. “No, that’s wrong, Yuna. You have to ask! You can’t just put the ring on and have that be it!”

Yuna frowns, getting a little annoyed with all of Eunbi’s demands surrounding what should be a simple act—everything they’ve ever seen on TV makes it seem simple, easy, over and done. “Fine. Will you marry me?”
The smile on Eunbi’s face widens with the words, and she finally looks satisfied, happy. “Yes.”

Then, when she slides the ring onto Eunbi’s finger and ends the proposal with a question to make it ‘official’ it’s just a silly, impulsive decision made by two kids, two best friends who say they want to stay together forever.

If you had told six year old Choi Yuna how much weight that little plastic ring would carry, how important it and all of the promises together, forever would imply and later cement, she probably wouldn’t have believed a single word, wouldn’t have bought into the idea that a simple piece of plastic and the promise that accompanied it could grow into so much more for them.

(But it does. It becomes so much more than that.)

Once the proposal is done to Eunbi’s liking, Yuna lets go of her hand, resting her own at her sides. But then she realizes something, a step Eunbi had forgotten.

“Wait a minute, if you get a ring, don’t I get one too?”

************

There’s a store nearby, directly down the street, and technically, they’re not supposed to leave the park—their parents have told them they’re old enough to play there without supervision since it's right by their houses, but they have to stay there.

But there’s no one watching, no way anyone will know they broke that rule, and they’ve broken plenty of rules together before, so they find themselves walking to the store together, on a kind of high alert, like it will be the end if they get caught.

“It’ll be like we’re spies,” Eunbi had said with a toothy grin. “And our mission is to get the ring and go back home before anyone knows.”

As silly as it is, it’s a fun idea, and she finds herself agreeing with Eunbi’s comparison. Breaking the rules is something typical, anyway. Eunbi likes to test boundaries, always has, and this is just another rule to add to the list they’ve already broken, another stunt they’ve pulled to test the boundaries set before them.

In a way, it’s exhilarating. There’s never a dull moment with Eunbi, that’s for sure. That’s what Yuna enjoys about being friends with her. Because yeah, Eunbi can be a total brat and whine a lot and get really annoying, but no matter what, they enjoy each other’s company. They enjoy having the familiar presence from early childhood onward, hope it will never go away.

Contrary to popular belief among classmates that maybe they don’t really like each other, maybe it’s just a tolerance and a strained friendship, their friendship is everything but that. This is just how they’ve always been.

This is probably how they’ll always be—side by side, best friends, together.

Forever, as Eunbi had put it.

It’s definitely something Yuna doesn’t think she’ll mind.

Suddenly, Eunbi grabs her arm and pulls her to a stop. “We’re here, Yuna. Ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s hurry and get back before we get caught.”

Eunbi nods, and soon enough they’re in front of the toy dispensing machine outside of the store. Lucky for them, one time they’d found some spare money in a couch cushion at Eunbi’s house and buried it at the park for safekeeping, so they dug it up for this occasion. Eunbi puts in the money and turns the knob, and soon they hear the clatter of the little plastic container hitting the metal of the dispenser.

Yuna picks it up and opens it, finding a green ring resting in her palm. She doesn’t pay much attention to the details of it, and is about to put it on her finger and grab Eunbi’s hand, dragging her home before they push their luck any further and get caught.

But before she can, she looks up and sees Eunbi frozen in place with wide eyes, just staring at the ring in Yuna’s palm. “What? Is something wrong?”

“I want that one!”

She doesn’t get it at first, doesn’t understand why that ring—her ring—is so special that Eunbi just has to insist on taking it for herself. “Why?”

Without a word, Eunbi grabs her hand, just points at the ring like Yuna is supposed to automatically know what she’s thinking without her needing to say it. Eunbi is weird and has the strangest habits and most ridiculous thoughts, but Yuna is used to them by now, can usually figure out what messages Eunbi is trying to convey without much effort. But this one is lost on her—she doesn’t understand.

Until she looks at the ring for the first time—really looks at it. It’s a bright green, like she originally noticed, but upon looking closer, she sees a tiny figure on it. An alien.

Suddenly everything makes sense—Eunbi’s wide eyes, her insistence to have that ring. It’s because there’s an alien on it, and Eunbi never ceases to remind Yuna just how much she loves aliens.

“Can I have it?” Eunbi finally asks, still holding her hand tightly. “Please, Yuna?”

“You already have a ring! This one is mine!”

Eunbi immediately pouts. “Can’t we trade?”

“It’s not the same, though.” Yuna pulls her hand away, slides the ring on her finger and heads toward home, knowing Eunbi will follow.

“Is so!” Eunbi is at her side, grabbing onto her arm, close enough where Yuna can hear her whines loud and clear. “Please Yuna, I have to have that one!”

In that moment, she’s almost tempted to give in, to say yes and trade rings and have that be that. Sometimes, it’s easier to indulge her idiot best friend than it is to listen to whining.

(Also, she doesn’t particularly like seeing Eunbi upset, hates seeing her sad or crying or even pouting.)

“You already have a ring, it’s not the same if I give you mine.”

Eunbi sighs and lets go of Yuna’s arm, shoulders slumping in disappointment as she falls out of step with her the slightest bit. “So mean, Yuna…”

It seems like she’s accepted it. The pout and dejected look say otherwise, but Yuna ignores it.

The whole walk back passes in silence. Well, almost silence. Every so often, Eunbi sighs dramatically, as if to draw attention to the fact that she didn’t get the ring she wanted.

Kid.

But despite the thought, Yuna stops so suddenly back at the park that Eunbi almost slams into her. “Yuna?”

She pulls the ring off her finger and holds it out for Eunbi to take. “Here. We’ll trade.”

Eunbi seems taken aback, which is kind of ridiculous since she’s the one who has been whining about trading. “You mean it?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t offer.”

Eunbi takes the ring, studies it for moment, a bright smile on her lips, before she pulls off her own ring—her original ring—and hands it to Yuna. Seconds later, the trade is complete, their new rings on their fingers, a perfect fit.

Yuna looks up from the blue ring situated on her finger, and is about to say that they should go, but before she has time to process it, Eunbi hugs her tightly. Yuna’s face feels warm—not the same sticky warmth from being out in the summer heat, though. This is different, a kind of warmth that starts in her chest, a combination of embarrassment and fondness—as she settles her arms around Eunbi’s waist.

“Thank you, Yuna.” Eunbi is so close when she pulls back from the embrace, doesn’t move to pull away either.

“I just didn’t want to listen to you whine anymore,” Yuna says offhandedly, averting her gaze. Really, she hates seeing Eunbi sad, refuses to be the one who causes that sadness. Besides, she doesn’t even like aliens that much anyway…

Eunbi smiles, one that says she can see right through Yuna’s words and knows exactly why Yuna gave in. But before she can say anything about that, Yuna nudges her shoulder, gentle.

“Come on, we should go home… before our parents wonder where we are.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Their hands find each other’s on the walk home, now fitted with rings, a new type promise in their minds, their hearts. A promise to stay together, remain by each other’s sides, to always be there. A promise that seems unbreakable.

************

But things change. That’s unsurprising, really—everything changes and develops with time and growth and age. It’s no different with them, really. As they get older they outgrow wearing the rings that once occupied their fingers every day, something of the past that isn’t practical to do every day when they’re older.

It’s something that comes with growing up, Yuna tells herself with a shrug as she watches the boys in their class surround Eunbi’s desk, squealing and fawning while the object of their affection laughs and smiles.

(But it’s not a real smile, Yuna notices. It’s one that’s more forced, similar to the other smiles that have been forced throughout their second year of junior high. The smile doesn’t quite reach Eunbi’s eyes, is nothing like the happy and real smile that was so often on her face in childhood.)

Things are different now. That much is obvious.

But… that doesn’t mean that the promise from before has to change. They’ll always be together, won’t they?

Yuna really can’t imagine a life where Jung Eunbi is not her best friend, where Eunbi hasn't always been by her side.

That’s not going to change.

So she hangs onto the ring, even when they’ve stopped wearing them, even when it seems like a forgotten moment, long in the past and sitting untouched, collecting dust over time. It’s tucked away safely in her room, the sentimental value behind keeping it unwilling to fade, even if Eunbi no longer has her.

Even if there is some chance that Eunbi has forgotten that promise—which Yuna doubts she did, but anything is possible, after all—that doesn’t mean she has to. Maybe a promise that was originally an impulsive decision of childhood doesn’t hold the same weight it did back then—one of marriage and a promise to stay together forever, things that completely change meaning in the transition from childhood to adolescence. But regardless, it still holds the weight of staying together.

Things change, she reminds herself. Things always change.

She doesn’t realize then both how wrong and right she is, doesn’t realize that the meaning of the promise exchanged on that hot summer day when they were only six can stay the same while all the feelings they share for each other completely shift.

Things change, like the pound of her heart in her chest, ready to break through the protection of her ribcage and leap right out into the open, right onto her sleeve, bared for anyone to see, for Eunbi to see if she was looking, if only she was looking. Things change, but she’s still got the ring from when they were six sitting on her bookshelf in her room. And if that’s not a sign that some things never change, then what is? They could have drifted apart over the years, but…

Well, that’s getting a bit ahead of herself. Pause. Rewind. Bring it back to when things were simpler – before she’d admitted to herself that she’s been pining after her best friend on the entire ing planet for a long time. Longer than she’d like to admit. Details. Whaaatever.

Then again, as much as she says she wants to go back, she knows she doesn’t want to. Knows she doesn’t mind standing on this line between nothing and everything, friendship and more, because if going back meant erasing how she feels, changing the course of it all, she doesn’t think she’d want to.

Really, she knows she never could. She’s too far gone to ever take it back.

But, those sentiments aside, the story of exactly how Choi Yuna’s feelings and heart decide to attack her over to what she believes will be nothing more than a life of painful longing and unspoken feelings in all matters starting and ending with Jung Eunbi happens like so:

************

“You alright?” She kneels in front of the bench in the locker room, making sure her level with Eunbi, who had been looking down at her knees, fingers clenched tightly in the fabric of her skirt.

Eunbi doesn’t make a move to respond, not even a nod of her head, and Yuna sighs softly, nudging her friend’s arm gently. “Hey…”

They’re the last ones in the locker room, left alone by the rest of their club after the loss for a music competiton. They came close, but not close enough, and Eunbi obviously isn’t taking the loss well.

“Eunbi, come on… let’s go home.” She reaches for Eunbi’s hands, takes hold of them and uncurls her tightly clenched fingers, allowing Eunbi’s grip to relax.

Eunbi finally looks at her, finally acknowledges her presence with a soft hum.

But Yuna almost wishes Eunbi didn’t lock eyes with her. Almost, because she’s never seen such a look on her face. One of sadness and defeat, anger and disappointment.

Her initial thought is to do whatever she can, anything, to make sure she never sees that look again, to fend those types of thoughts and emotions off.

Changes come with age, although one thing that’s never changed is how much Yuna hates seeing Eunbi upset and hurt. She hates seeing the usual happy, somewhat annoying but also endearing, looks on Eunbi’s face wiped away so quickly, like they never existed in the first place. She hates seeing the beginnings of tears in her eyes, fists clenched tightly after losses, the look of fear on Eunbi’s face when she dwells and dwells on not being good enough, on not being able to win when it matters most.

For just a second, her thoughts flick to their childhood, to when Eunbi was sad or hurt, tears rolling down her cheeks, crying loudly. Sometimes, Yuna would press a kiss to wherever Eunbi was hurting, to stop her from crying, to make her feel better. Suddenly, she has the same overwhelming urge to do that, to lean down and wrap her arms around Eunbi, pulling her into a tight embrace and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead—like that’s enough to take the pain away, like when they were kids and it could and would be that simple.

Wait—

She can’t explain the sudden tightness in her chest, the way words fail her when they usually don’t. For a moment, it’s as if a simple, innocent thought has thrown the whole world off balance and there is no fixing it. Words catch in right then and there, whatever she had thought she could say to pull Eunbi out of this state completely lost on her because of the way her thoughts had wandered.

There’s no way. No way that’s what’s happening. Not now. Why now?

In the end, it’s Eunbi who ends up speaking first. “Yuna?”

“Hmm?” is all she manages to get out, still slightly thrown by not only the look from before but also the overwhelming feeling that accompanied seeing it, the sudden sense of clarity that washed over her, opening a whole new door, a flooding rush of feelings.

The idea that she maybe, probably, just might feel something stronger than friendship for Eunbi is unexpected at first, in the sudden spur of the moment realization at a really inopportune time. After all, this is the same annoying kid who insisted aliens were real and would jump on Yuna’s back because she was too tired to walk on her own after long days spent playing outside.

But Eunbi’s also so, so much more than that. She’s the same kid Yuna’s known forever. Her best friend who has been by her side through everything.

She’s always been the one Yuna can’t imagine her life without.

Eunbi’s next words are quiet, but there’s an unwavering determination in her eyes when she pulls her hands away from Yuna’s and stands, ready to go home. “I’ll get better. I promise I’ll get better so next year we’ll win…”

There are a lot of things Yuna can say to that: you don’t have to; you’re good enough; it’ll all come together for us; next time we’ll win. All are possible, but she says none, only murmurs a simple “Okay.”

They don’t speak about it after that, and head home. Everything seems calm, it seems like this is isolated, an event that won’t be spoken of again and this is the last of it.

That couldn’t be more of a lie.

The quiet, the lingering silence on their walk home is almost unwelcome because it gives Yuna time to think, to dwell on the realization that she just came to in the locker room.

But she doesn’t want to think about that, doesn’t want to think of what it means or why or how or when this even happened.

So she denies it, tells herself a very simple, yet firm declaration that she is not in love with Eunbi. She is not in love with her best friend.

Thing is, she can claim she’s not, but she definitely is. The overwhelming clarity of it all, the sudden realization is something she can’t push away, something that once seen, cannot be forgotten. And it’s almost like it’s the greatest truth of the universe was revealed to her and maybe, just maybe the whole world stopped turning in that one instant because it all falls into place, an explanation placed to something she hasn’t been able to describe before.

And this is a major problem.

************

The next few months are characterized by extra practice, staying late in the clubroom, Eunbi’s frustration growing and growing, especially with the arrival of a new player in their third year. A genius.

Their arrival is not the catalyst; instead, it’s the final straw, the one card placed wrong in a house of them that causes the whole structure to start breaking down. The already shifting reality started by continuous, successive losses last competition is pushed along further with their arrival and the impact it has on Eunbi. Now, everything is a furious rush—to get better, to do better, to see results—but there’s fear too. Maybe it’s not visible to everyone else, but Yuna can see it, can see the look in Eunbi’s eyes that betrays exactly how she’s feeling—if her actions did not make it clear enough already.

For the first time ever, Yuna feels helpless, like no matter what she says or does Eunbi won’t listen. This isn’t the same as times they’d fight in the past, when they were kids and problems could be fixed much, much more easily. Now, it seems like there’s no fixing it, and despite all of the assurances and insistence that Eunbi is fine how she is, they are stuck at this point, in this endless cycle perpetuated by loss and insecurities.

The few months of this are hard, painful even. Yuna hates seeing Eunbi like this, hates that she’s seemingly unable to do anything.

Some would give up. It would be easy to give up.

But she doesn’t. She can’t imagine ever walking away or leaving Eunbi’s side.

“Five more minutes, okay?”

Eunbi frowns, looking back at her from where she had been about to serve, but she doesn’t argue, knowing from the look in Yuna’s eyes that it’s a battle not worth having, not when they’ve had it so often lately. “Okay.”

So Yuna leans against the wall, waiting for Eunbi to finish up, but watches closely to make sure there’s no problem she can notice as a result of Eunbi overworking herself so much lately.

Her thoughts wander—like they often do in moments like this—back to the revelation she made near the end of their second year when they had lost, the realization that her feelings for Eunbi run a lot deeper than the friendship they’ve always had.

Initially, she’d tried to deny it, passing it off as a fluke, nothing more than a stupid teenage crush driven by emotion and sentimentality. Back then, she tried to place facts to it: hows, whens, and whys. But thinking on it more, she realizes that there’s no way to define this feeling as something like that.

There really isn’t a “when” that she can place. The sudden realization in the locker room isn’t a when, it’s just the moment it all clicked into place, the moment the thought hit her over the head and would not go away.

But even then, she can’t pinpoint a specific moment. Thinking of all their time spent together, she could say that she fell in love the first time they were allowed to camp outside in Eunbi’s backyard, looking up at the stars until they were lulled to sleep, Eunbi gripping her hand tightly; when they had exchanged plastic rings at age six, a promise of forever, in their hearts and minds; when they were ten and snuck up on the roof of Eunbi’s house late one night without their parents’ knowledge, and Eunbi’s eyes were full of happiness, light, as she pointed out constellations in the stars that she had learned about in a book her mother bought her; when they were thirteen and played their first match of junior high together as starters, smiling at each other and hands slapping together in a high five the moment after Yuna scored the winning point off of Eunbi’s toss.

It could have been any of those moments, she decides.

But it isn’t.

There is no “when” because it’s a buildup of years together, by each other’s sides. No one moment can be picked out among the rest because there are so many moments they’ve shared, that they’ve built their whole lives upon.

She’s always loved Jung Eunbi, whether it’s been as her best friend or now, more than that. Yuna knows that now. Just like she can’t remember the first time she’d met Eunbi because they’d been way too young, she can’t remember when any of her feelings had started to shift to what they are now. Maybe for a while they’d been tucked away, but always there, until she finally had the ‘aha’ moment to put words to the emotion—what she had once thought of as only friendship or fondness that has shifted to an overwhelming feeling of love. A feeling that isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

But she’s not going to act on it. Not when there is the possibility of ruining the bond they’ve already built. Even if they only ever remain friends, so long as Eunbi is happy then Yuna is too.

(If Eunbi knew of that, of the sentiment Yuna holds, she’d probably laugh and make some quip about Yuna’s supposed ‘martyrdom’ by giving up her own happiness for the sake of her friend’s.)

But those are thoughts for another day, she decides as she pushes herself off the wall and moves to Eunbi’s side, resting her hand on her back. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Eunbi looks at her, and even though they’d settled it earlier, it seems like she wants to protest. “We will have a test next week. I have to be ready.”

Yuna sighs. “That’s not going to matter if you hurt your health now, .” She gives Eunbi a gentle shove. “We’ll clean up and then get your stuff. We’re leaving.”

They finally leave and head toward home. Eunbi has been uncharacteristically silent ever since Yuna took her by the hand and basically dragged her out of the music room.

It’s strange… the silence, she means. Usually Eunbi fills any silence with chatter about anything and everything, even the most mundane things that happened that day. And Yuna always listens and adds in her thoughts—as if she hadn’t known about whatever it is Eunbi is speaking of even though she probably already does due to them spending most of their days together.

Even when there is silence between them, it’s usually a comfortable, easy-going one. Not like the heavy and uncomfortable silence that overcomes them tonight.

Eunbi looks tired, like she could fall asleep right then and there if she wanted to. It’s worrisome, seeing her like that, seeing the usual bright and happy presence so down like this.

“You’re squeezing my hand really tightly, Yuna…” Eunbi finally murmurs, falling into step with Yuna.

“Oh…” She hadn’t even realized she’d been squeezing Eunbi’s hand, forgot that she’d never let go of her hand in the first place. Yuna looks away, hoping it’s too dark to see the slight blush that is sure to be on her cheeks. “Sorry…”

Their hands drop to their sides when she lets go. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think that maybe, just maybe by the look on Eunbi’s face that she doesn’t like the loss of contact.

Yeah, right. That’s only wishful thinking.

Silence overcomes them again, but maybe it’s not as heavy as before. It’s got this weird sense of awkwardness, though, and that isn’t typical of them. Almost like neither of them want to be the first to break it.

It stretches longer than Yuna realizes because before she knows it, they’ve reached Eunbi’s house. This is where they’d normally say their goodbyes until the next day, and Yuna would head across the street to her own house. But today, for whatever reason, they both seem a little hesitant to go their separate ways.

“Um, well… it’s kind of late. Guess I should go. I’ll see you…”

Eunbi’s fingers curl around her hand before she can fully turn away. “Yuna…” She starts, but pauses for a moment, like she’s uncertain of what she had been wanting to say, but finishes with, “Are you mad at me?”

Is that what she thinks? That that’s what all the silence and awkwardness to accompany the arguing they’ve been doing lately means? That couldn’t be further from the truth.

She sighs. “I’m not mad at you. I don’t like how you’re acting about this, and I wish you’d stop.”

The frown on Eunbi’s lips, and the way she looks to the ground shows that’s apparently too much to ask for. Of course. “I can’t. If I do, then…” She trails off like she doesn’t want to hear the words, like saying them aloud will make whatever she’s afraid of even more real.

With a sigh, Yuna squeezes her hand. “Don’t worry so much. You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah…” It doesn’t sound like Eunbi believes it, which is frustrating. How do you make someone see that? How is she supposed to make Eunbi understand that this wasn’t doing any good, wasn’t helping her at all? What is she supposed to do?

This is the first time Yuna’s ever felt like she can’t get through to Eunbi no matter what she says or does, like she won’t reach her at all. It’s terrifying, almost, to feel so out of her element with someone who has never once made her feel that way.

“So we’re okay, then?” Eunbi asks, another way of checking to see if things are still alright between them.

Yuna realizes that Eunbi’s still holding her hand, and squeezes it. “Yes. Don’t worry about that, okay?”

“Okay. Do you… do you want to stay over?”

She nods. “Yeah… yeah, I’d like to.”

************

“You still have this?” Even though Yuna’s been in Eunbi’s room countless times, she’s never noticed the green plastic ring from when they were kids sitting on Eunbi’s desk. Almost like it hadn’t been there before and had been taken out recently from where it had been before. Or she just never noticed it. Maybe she hadn’t been looking. Maybe…

The look Eunbi shoots her way is strange, a mix of surprise and confusion at the question, along with annoyance. Like it’s a ridiculous suggestion to think she wouldn’t have it still. “Why wouldn’t I?” she asks, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Don’t know… Didn’t expect you to be so sentimental, I guess.”

They both know that’s a lie, the first excuse that had popped into her mind for asking about it. Yuna knows Eunbi can see right through her, can see her heart.

Well, except for the one secret she’s kept concealed. And if she doesn’t shut up soon, that may end up being something that isn’t so secret anymore.

But she is pretty good at keeping shut and her heart in check, even if she slips up sometimes. And over time, that fluttery, tight feeling in her chest? Well, it doesn’t go away, but she lives with it like a new addition to her life. It’s normal, something she constantly grapples with.

Even though she’s accepted it, grown used to it over the past few months doesn’t mean it gets any damn easier to hold back. In fact, it gets more and more difficult as time goes on.

“Do you still have yours?” Eunbi asks, kicking her legs out as she sits down on the bed. The question’s phrased like casual conversation, genuine curiosity, and Yuna doesn’t try to read into it any more than that.

She nods. “Yeah, of course I do.”

“So it’s okay for you to keep yours, but you expected me to throw mine out? Makes sense. Have some more faith in me, Yuna.”

“I didn’t mean you threw it out. I just haven’t seen it before and was surprised. That’s all.”

“Maybe I had it out because I was looking at it. Ever think of that?”

Yuna groans, pushing Eunbi’s shoulder. Still, even with what’s likely a joke, her heart still betrays her and starts to race. “Okay, okay. It was a dumb question. Go to sleep.”

“Now you think you can tell me what to do in my own room.” But Eunbi yawns, probably too tired to protest what Yuna’s saying. “You know what I think? I think you’re too selfless for your own good. You should think about yourself for once too.”

“Yeah, okay.” The dig makes her roll her eyes. She’s sure Eunbi’s teasing, trying to goad her into more bickering before they go to bed. “We can have that argument another day when you’re not exhausted from spending all night practicing.”

Eunbi laughs quietly and pokes Yuna’s cheek and for a second it feels like everything is okay, normal again. “Maybe.” She doesn’t say any more after that, but grabs Yuna’s hand, squeezes it gently.

The contact between them is over so quickly, Yuna thinks she imagined it for a moment.

But it’s nothing new. Eunbi’s always been touchy, they’ve both always been touchy. That’s just how things are, what they’re used to. It’s nothing special. Nothing lost, nothing gained.

“Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” Yuna whispers back, settling down to sleep.

Somehow, maybe (definitely) against Yuna’s better judgement, they end up sleeping in the same bed. Yuna doesn’t have the heart to insist otherwise and fight about sleeping arrangements like they usually will when they have sleepovers—the whole back and forth of who gets the bed; the “I’ll sleep on the floor with you if you don’t take it,” argument that occurs no matter whose house they’re at or how old they are.

Honestly, she doesn’t really even care that it’s not exactly comfortable since they’re kind of big for this and Eunbi tends to be a bed hog, which makes sleeping in a bed together not the most enjoyable experience. Even when they were kids it was a pain. But that doesn’t really matter. Not now, anyway.

Eunbi rolls over and is soon sleeping, the exhaustion finally overcoming her and welcoming in sleep quickly.

Sleep doesn’t find Yuna that easily. Her hand is still warm from Eunbi’s touch moments before, and she finds herself thinking about the whole situation.

Something has to change, this needs to end. She doesn’t want to watch this anymore, can’t stand seeing Eunbi break, crack, self-destruct.

She doesn’t know how long it is before she rolls over, eyes falling on Eunbi. For once, the idiot’s not sleeping in a jumbled mess, is probably too exhausted to fall into normal wild sleeping habits. For once, she looks peaceful, calm, the complete opposite of everything she’s been feeling inside lately.

Without even thinking about it, she raises her hand, gently brushing Eunbi’s bangs from her forehead. “You’re an idiot, you know that? A complete and utter idiot.”

(She imagines if she were awake, Eunbi would whine back, saying how mean and cruel it is for Yuna to say something so nasty about her best friend.)

But that’s not what she hears. All there is in the dark room is silence, only Eunbi’s soft breathing. Honestly, she’s getting sick of that—all the silence, tense and heavy and awkward that’s wormed its way into corners of their lives like it never has before. So Yuna fills it with a somewhat shaky whisper, one she almost doesn’t recognize.

“I wish you’d tell me what you’re thinking… I wish you could see what I see.”

I wish you’d let me in.

Please let me in.

She’ll never stop fighting, though. Won’t quit until she does reach Eunbi and pull her back to somewhere stable, somewhere safe.

“You’re not alone, and you’re not gonna be alone. So you don’t have to work like this. You don’t have to worry so much and put so much pressure on yourself.”

It’s funny that she can say all of this, pour all of her feelings out when Eunbi is sleeping and unable to hear them. In a way, it’s kind of frustrating, because usually Yuna is straightforward and honest and doesn’t have to hide any of her thoughts from Eunbi. But now it’s hard to get them out and make Eunbi listen to them. Maybe it’s because she’s afraid of Eunbi not listening… of refusing to believe things that Yuna has always believed to be true.

Maybe it’s because she’s afraid of saying how she really feels, what she really thinks and that will make things worse. Like it’ll change everything for the worse.

The familiar feeling of hesitation overtakes her once more, and she pauses for a moment when she had reached her hand to brush against Eunbi’s cheek. But… but she’s already said enough, and if she’s being honest? Well, if she’s being honest, she might as well go all out. Her fingers brush against Eunbi’s cheek, barely there, but enough. The touch lingers a moment longer than it should, probably, but the silence filled with only her quiet voice and Eunbi’s soft breathing makes her brave. A lot braver than she’s been thus far.

“You’re enough. You’ve always been enough,” she breathes out. “Even if you don’t think so, even if you don’t feel it, you are. And no matter what happens, you’ll always be enough for me.”

And even though she knows Eunbi can’t hear a word she’s saying, she still says what she needs to anyway. Maybe it’s just a way to give herself some peace of mind, maybe it’s because these are things she’s kept pent up inside for so long and never explicitly said. Implied, yes, but said? No.

Maybe someday, she will be braver, will say these things when Eunbi can hear her, will say everything that’s in her heart directly to Eunbi’s face. But that time isn’t right now. Maybe someday, but not today.

“‘m not gonna quit until you see it too, okay?” she mumbles, as sleep finally starts to overtake her too, like a tiny weight has been lifted off the constant pressure, the constant squeeze of the hold on her heart. But there’s hope too, hope that something will change. That they can make it change. “I’m with you no matter what, Jung Eunbi.”

The future’s constantly changing, impacted by choices and actions and reactions. They can make it whatever they want it to be, and there’s still a chance to change the course of the way things are set right now.

************

A week later, it finally seems like things really will change. After the incident with "the third-year genius", after everything that had been building up for months until it finally erupted. After Eunbi finally seemed to see reason and snap out of that state of mind that she had to get better and work so much harder in order to not be surpassed and even achieve victory against a strong school. Things finally feel calmer, like they’ve settled.

Like everything is normal again.

(Maybe that’s the wrong way to put it, though. Maybe a better thing to say would be that things have returned to how they were, but now Eunbi realizes something she didn’t before.)

For the first time in a while, when they leave the music room to walk home together, things don’t feel heavy or uncomfortable. They’re steady again, feet back on stable, solid ground and they’ve got a familiar, welcomed presence at their sides, hands right in reach should they choose to grab them.

Everything is okay.

But Yuna pauses when she notices Eunbi hesitate—an almost unnoticeable pause, one most eyes except her own would miss—and turns so they’re face-to-face. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” It doesn’t sound forced or fake. Eunbi sounds genuine, like she means it, and Yuna believes her.

Still, there’s a nagging fear in the back of her mind, one that’s been at the forefront for so long that it’s not so easy to simply push away now. “Please don’t tell me that after all that you want to go back in there.”

(She should have known better than that, though. Eunbi said she felt invincible, meant it. Together, they are.)

“Yuna.”

“What is it? Eunbi, what’s—”

But Eunbi doesn’t say anything in response, even though it seems like she wanted to. Instead, she throws her arms around Yuna, hugs her tightly.

Yuna laughs at the sudden embrace, hoping maybe it will drown out the sound of her heart hammering in her ears, and hugs Eunbi back. “What’s this for?”

“You know,” Eunbi mutters, close to her ear.

It’s not meant in a “don’t make me say it,” begrudging type of way. This is a quiet concession, a simple acknowledgment without putting all the words out there.

Still, Eunbi says, “Thanks. For telling me I’m not alone. For… for everything.”

“‘course. I’ve always got your back.” Even if no one else does. “It’s you and me, right?”

When they pull apart, Eunbi’s smiling at her, not teasing or mischievous, but soft, maybe a little shy, and looking at her like there’s nothing else in the world there, just the two of them right here, on the same wavelength and plane of existence, and that’s all that matters.

In one single moment, it feels like she’s been laid bare, like her heart can take her anywhere she wants to go unless it betrays her.

“Yeah.” Eunbi nods, her fingers brushing against Yuna’s hand, curling around her own fingers like a link not meant to be broken. “It’s you and me.”

Maybe it’s what Eunbi had said earlier rubbing off on her—contagious words, contagious state of mind: all of a sudden, I feel invincible—but right now, it feels like nothing can touch them.

Like with every step of their feet forward, that’s what they can be: invincible. Like when they’re together, that’s what they are.

************

The future weighs a bit heavier on Yuna’s mind than it should for a fifteen year old. It’s just high school. They’re just stepping from one court to another, moving onto something bigger and better with a whole heap of opportunities they’ve never had before. One more step, one more chance to make good on the promise to finally reach the backs of a team they could never touch, to beat them. To go to college together. One more chance to make all their dreams come true.

Yet something still bothers her…

Maybe it’s brought on by nerves that they still have one last chance to beat the music club in junior high. Maybe it’s a result of this weird place in the emotional's land—you’re stuck in the middle, not sure which way is right—when she can’t make an accurate judge if interactions between herself and Eunbi are a new shift in their dynamic, leaning more toward the you’re my best friend and I’m in love with you side or if they’re just the usual you’re my best friend and I love you, totally platonic, typical way of life. That’s the thing with holding a lifelong friendship with someone who you’ve fallen in love with as a result: is she reading too much into things they’ve always done since they were kids or is it actually something more? Will she ever truly know the answer? More news at eleven…

(After all, new normals in her every day life since admitting to herself that she’s in love with Eunbi include: thinking of ways to cover and conceal words or actions that may give her away, self-doubt, and hesitation brought on by standing on the precipice of saying how she feels or keeping quiet, of wanting more or preserving what they already have.

Like she said, emotional’s land. But that’s a story for another day…)

The thought in question starts as a small inkling of insecurity that she tries to tell herself isn’t really a rational thought or argument. But as with any intrusive thought like that, it can grow, fester into something much bigger.

Yuna finds herself thinking back on something that had happened a while ago, after they had lost. Again.

But there’d been something different about this loss.

In theory, it’s nothing to worry about. Yet, here she’s been dwelling on it more and more.

Maybe it’s not logical or rational given what Eunbi’s said in response, how she’s acted about the concept. The question that’s dragging her into the depths of self-doubt is if Eunbi really would be better off somewhere else, somewhere it may be easier to chase her dreams, to achieve them?

Most people would jump at the chance. But Eunbi’s not most people, and Yuna’s always known that. She knows that better than anyone. There’s no one like Jung Eunbi.

If she’s uncertain, the logical response, of course, is to ing talk about it. Confront it head on, like she usually likes to. Bring it up to Eunbi, who she’s more than comfortable with talking to about her problems normally. But admitting to insecurity and being emotionally vulnerable with something that maybe she’s a little, tiny bit afraid of learning the answer to deters the logical option.

“Hey, Yuna, you look like you’re thinking way too hard.” Eunbi steps ahead of her on their walk home from school, spins around to face her, teasing grin on her lips as she walks backwards, a spring in her step. “What’s got your brain so fried?”

You, she could say, accompanied by an eye-roll. It’s so in character for them, their dynamic, that she could easily pass off a truthful comment as a sharp, teasing jab. “You’re going to trip if you don’t look where you’re going.”

“Eh, I’ll be fine.” She shoots Yuna a teasing grin. “You’d never let me fall down.”

Okay, well… she’s not wrong, at least. But this time, Yuna groans. “Don’t count on that. I’m gonna laugh at you if you trip with that kind of confidence.”

“Always so mean, Yuna.” Eunbi doesn’t sound the least bit miffed about it, though, despite the way she’s exaggerated a slump of her shoulders and pout on her lips. “Seriously, though. You okay?”

“Yeah, all good. Just thinking.”

“That’s never a good sign.” But Eunbi doesn’t seem totally convinced by her answer, despite the joke back. But that’s the thing about being friends with someone your entire life: you get to know them like you know yourself. You know when to push, and you know when to keep quiet. You know when to let something slide by, and you know when to poke at it ‘til the truth comes out.

And this time, Eunbi doesn’t push. She grabs onto Yuna’s hands, pulls her forward, closer into this dance they’ve been in for what feels like forever. “You should come over. We can—”

“Eunbi,” Eunbi’s mother calls from their doorstep, only feet away from where’d they’d stopped walking and Eunbi had been about to invite her over. “You have mail here for you.”

Eunbi makes a face, and lets go of Yuna’s hands, almost like she’s annoyed her mother interrupted her and she had to. “What is it?”

She takes the short few steps to close the distance between them, and hands Eunbi the envelope. “I think it’s from that school who asked you to go there?”

Even if she hadn’t said so, Yuna knows that’s what it is because she can make out the neat scrawl on the envelope in Eunbi’s hands.

Without even thinking about it, she blurts out, “Hey, I should go. My ma told me if I didn’t clean my room she’d ground me.”

The sudden excuse distracts Eunbi away from the piece of mail. “Really? Want me to come over and convince her not to?” She grins. “Your mom loves me. I’ll just tell her you need to help me with homework.”

“Eunbi, did you really just say you’d lie to Yuna’s mother right in front of me?”

“It’s not lying if I really need the help, though.” Eunbi tries to cover for herself quickly, nudging Yuna’s shoulder, asking for her support to cover what she’d just said. Just like when they were kids and got caught doing something they shouldn’t. “Right, Yuna?”

“Yeah.” She forces a grin. “I’m going to go, though. I’m still in hot water from last time I didn’t clean when she told me to.”

Eunbi frowns. “If you’re sure…”

“Yeah. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Sure.”

It doesn’t seem like she’s bought the quick, haphazard excuse at all. And really, why would Eunbi buy it? She knows Yuna better than that, and honestly, Yuna doesn’t even really know why she’d lied about having to go home anyway.

She’ll deal with it later. Give it some time to settle and then text Eunbi or something. They’ll talk again later.

Later happens sooner than expected, and it’s in the form of a knock to her bedroom door.

“Yeah?”

When the door opens, she expects it to be her mother. Instead, she gets Eunbi.

“What are you doing here?” She hates how surprised her voice sounds, like barging into each other’s rooms like they’re their own isn’t something normal.

“I practically live here, I’ll have you know. Your mom was delighted to see me.”

Yuna rolls her eyes before she turns over in her bed, away from Eunbi. “Sure she was.”

“So, you wanna tell me what the lying is about?” Eunbi wastes no time getting straight to the point, steps into her room, and shuts the door behind her. “Your room doesn’t look very messy. And your mom said she was surprised to see me because you told her I was busy today.”

“It’s nothing.”

“C’mon, Yuna. You know as well as I do it’s not nothing. So spill. What’s going on?”

She finally turns to look at Eunbi. “It’s stupid. I was just wondering if you’d ever thought of going somewhere else for high school?”

“Is this about that dumb letter?” The bed dips when Eunbi sits next to her. “Why would you think that I’d want to go somewhere else, Yuna?”

“I’ve thought so before… I just think any school would be lucky to have you. You’re amazing. You deserve it.” She takes a breath, finally saying what she’s been afraid to. “And if that is what you want, don’t feel obligated to stick around or go somewhere for me. It wouldn’t change anything between us, at least for me. You should do what’s best for—”

Eunbi laughs and raps her knuckles against Yuna’s forehead. “You can be so dumb sometimes, Yuna. Is there really a brain in there?”

The anger bubbles up inside of her and she knocks Eunbi’s hand away from her face. “Damn you.”

“Language, Yuna,” Eunbi says with a smirk, drawing out each syllable in the most annoying way that leaves Yuna torn between wanting to hit her and wanting to kiss her. With a tentative reach of her fingers, Eunbi rests her hand on Yuna’s cheek, tracing over her skin, a light and barely there touch that’s gone as quickly as it came when Eunbi pulls her hand back, fidgeting slightly. “I had a feeling that’s what might be wrong. Can I show you something?”

“What?”

Eunbi pulls out the letter she had gotten, the same one that had started all of this. “Chung-ang sent it.”

Yuna nods. They’d already known that. What’s the point of confirming it? “Yeah. So you gonna open it or—?”

Eunbi shakes her head and rips the unopened letter in half, rips it again after that before throwing it into the trash bin near Yuna’s desk.

“What’d you do that for, ? You didn’t even open it!”

“You seriously don’t know?” Eunbi leans down, their faces so close to each other, barely any space between them. “You said any school would be lucky to have me. Well, any school isn’t you, Yuna.”

Her eyes widen, and for a moment it feels like she’s been laid bare, like it’s only the two of them—nothing, no one else—in that one moment. “Eunbi…”

“I’m choosing what I want,” Eunbi continues, quick enough to stop any protest Yuna may have. “A-and don’t…” She pokes Yuna’s chest at that. “Don’t think you’re holding me back. Don’t ever think that. If it wasn’t for you… if it wasn’t for you, Yuna, I’d…”

Yuna reaches up, the pads of her fingers brushing over Eunbi’s cheek, heart constricting at the words. This confirms that Eunbi holds the same value for Yuna that she holds for Eunbi—equal, what one gives the other gives back. A life where they’re supposed to stick together. “You and me?”

Eunbi nods, leaning into Yuna’s touch. “You and me,” she confirms with a soft smile, a real smile—not one of those over-exaggerated ones that’s too wide with too much teeth and nowhere near reaching her eyes. “Always.”

In that moment, she thinks that Eunbi has never looked more beautiful, perfect. And they’re close enough, connected, touching, that it’d be so easy to say so. So easy to act on those feelings.

But then, the gears change, like they’ve realized they’re too close, closer than any pair of friends should be, closer than they should be, unless random lapses of judgement or emotion charged moments take over.

Eunbi pulls back at the same time Yuna lets her hand drop to her side, silence surrounding them for a moment while they process everything that had just happened.

“Anyway,” Eunbi starts, quick to fill the space between them with something, anything other than silence. “Since your room isn’t actually a mess, do you want to come over? My mom will probably make us do our homework first because of what I said in front of her earlier, but we can do something else after, if you want.”

“Yeah.” She accepts the hand Eunbi offers her. “Let’s go.”

************

Maybe, just maybe, things would be different a lot sooner, she thinks, much, much later, had they been more honest, braver with each other earlier. But back then, they’re just fifteen year old girls, caught up in their own heads, not quite sure what to do with their hearts. It’s different than when they were kids—when saying they loved each other was simple, when wearing plastic rings and saying they got married so they could stay together forever was something people thought was childishly cute, but not permanent, not really forever because promises made in the heat of summer, with the simplicity of childhood didn’t hold the same weight something similar would as teenagers or as adults.

And when you don’t know for certain? Well, staying quiet and not disrupting the whole order of the universe seems to be your best bet. So that’s what they do.

Until they can’t anymore.

************

High school. When all their dreams can, when all their dreams will come true. Any wall in their way, they’ll break it down, climb higher and higher and higher until they’re standing at the top together.

In theory? 

Yeah, right.

At the beginning, it all seems like high school would never measure up to the hopeful declarations and out-of-reach wishes they share. Saying they’ll destroy Shiratorizawa and make it to Nationals is one thing. And if you could do it on effort alone, well, they’d certainly be top contenders.

Their first two years of high school, they lose. Again. It’s close, but not close enough.

It . There’s nothing like constantly being second best, nothing like climbing close enough to win but never being able to put it away. Second place are the first losers, right? Yeah, that gets hard to stomach after a while, after losing to the same seemingly unbeatable team over and over again.

Losses are rough. They sting, they hurt because getting so close only to lose out is more frustrating than not having a chance in hell or any business on the floor. It proves they’re contenders. That they could do it. One of these times, they could do it.

But this time, it’s the end of their second year of high school. Next year is the last year they have a chance to win, and the thought of that alone is like a weight on their shoulders, an immense amount of pressure. Even more so, with the loss of their teammates a year above them, that meant that the team was theirs now—Eunbi as captain, Yuna as vice-captain.

Things aren’t as bad as they had been in junior high after they’d lose, but Eunbi doesn’t always react well—withdraws into herself for a while, and sometimes she either doesn’t want to talk at all or she’ll accept comfort and move on relatively quickly, ready for what’s next.

This time, Yuna thinks—no, knows—that because of the added pressure of next year being their last year, Eunbi has cut herself off and hasn’t said much since they got back to the locker room. So she mostly gives Eunbi her space while the rest of the team is around, but when everyone’s left, that’s when she turns to face Eunbi.

“You coming?”

Eunbi shrugs from where she’s seated on the floor, leaning against the wall. One shoe on, one lying uselessly at her side. “I guess.”

“Yeah, don’t think you can sleep here.”

It’s just a joke, but Eunbi groans. Even when Yuna can’t see her face, she can picture the grimace Eunbi’s lips are twisted into, the defeated look in her eyes that also have a flicker of annoyance in them that appears any time they start to bicker like this. “You… you don’t have to wait around and check to make sure I’m okay, Yuna. I’m sure you would rather be doing something else… better things than sitting here with me moping around.”

That stings. Even if Eunbi says it because she’s upset, it still stings. “So that’s what you think? Really?”

“I don’t know what to think. I just… I’m sure you don’t need me to drag you down too. I’m—”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I’ve been your best friend since we were babies, Eunbi. I barely reacted when you puked on my shoes when we were kids, and when you broke my finger after you accidentally smashed it in your door that time we played hide and seek, even though you thought I’d never want to be your friend again. I sat there and held your hand when you had to stick your ankle in a tub of ice after you twisted it last year. What the hell makes you think I don’t want to be here with you?”

“Do you get tired of it?” Me. She’s asking if Yuna ever gets tired of her.

And the answer is never. Never, never, never.

Eunbi continues, quiet. “I don’t know how you don’t. I would. Sometimes, I hate myself so much and don’t think that feeling is ever going to go away. If I feel that way, how do you not—?”

It’s like a tight pressure has pushed down on her chest, refusing to relent. Like something has constricted its way around her heart, refusing to let go. The self-deprecation, the quiet sadness in Eunbi’s voice, the way she’s saying she thinks are a sharp stab to Yuna’s heart, a painful ache.

“Hey.” She kneels down in front of Eunbi, puts her hands on her shoulders, squeezes them gently. The first part of a reassurance that she’s never—that she could never—think the way Eunbi’s suggesting she should. “You don’t drag me down. You never could. God, Eunbi, I think you’re amazing. You make me better. You make me want to be better and you always push me forward. And you’re enough. You’ve always been. Maybe not always by your own standards, but for me… for me, Eunbi…”

“Yuna? What are you…?” Eunbi starts, a quiet whisper, like a breath, but Yuna doesn’t stop. Maybe it’s because of the defeated look in Eunbi’s eyes, or the broken, painful question of if Yuna ever gets tired of her. Whatever it is, it’s got her spilling years of pent up feelings like they were never meant to be kept hidden in the first place.

“No one is like you. There’s no one else who’s stuck by me through everything and has always been there. Everyone else isn’t you, Eunbi. I’m not gonna get tired of being with you. I ing want to be here because I love you!”

The realization of what she’s said hits her the moment it’s out there, words thrown into the space between them. As much as her initial reaction is to hope she can somehow sink into the floor, wishing there was a soundproof barrier between them so Eunbi didn’t hear the confession, it’s a little freeing to get her feelings out there for the first time in years.

There’s an audible gasp, a shaky intake of breath. So much for deluding herself into thinking maybe Eunbi didn’t hear it. The silence stretches between them for a moment, allows the words to settle in, like they’re materializing in the space between them. Real and true, unable to be taken back. This can either change everything or they pretend it’s never happened and move on like it’s nothing.

Yuna almost doesn’t want to know which way it goes.

“W-what did you say?”

“Nothing. Just forget I said anything. I…”

“No.” Eunbi leans forward and takes Yuna’s hands in her. “Say it again. Please.”

“I love you… I’m in love with you.” She grimaces as she says the words again, the honest, honest words that may cause her to very quickly learn the answer to what you do when your best friend breaks your heart. That’s that. Secret’s out. Game over. “Look, I know its not the same for you. I’ve always known that. Just… just pretend I didn’t…”

But Eunbi cuts that statement off, squeezes Yuna’s hands. “Why would you think that?”

Yuna sighs. “There’s no way you could ever—”

“And you have the nerve to call me dumb,” Eunbi mutters.

“What’s that supposed to—?”

As an answer, Eunbi leans in, a quick surge forward to cut off Yuna’s question with a kiss. The force of it nearly knocks Yuna backwards, but her hands finally settle on Eunbi’s jacket, the fabric scrunched beneath her fingers as she steadies them both.

Oh. Oh.

That’s what she means.

“I’ve been in love with you for years, Yuna,” Eunbi confesses when they break apart, faces still close together, barely any distance between them as Eunbi clings onto her jacket. “Since at least junior high.”

That feels a bit surreal. All this time, she’d been worried about ruining what they had by confessing how she felt. Well, that’s just getting thrown in her face now as being blatantly wrong. Eunbi does feel the same, and she has for just as long as Yuna has.

She can’t help it. She laughs.

Eunbi bristles under her touch, grips her jacket tighter. “Is this a joke to you?”

“No, not at all.” Still, she laughs. More in disbelief than anything. All of this time… “Me too. I’ve loved you since junior high.”

“How come you never said anything?”

“I don’t know… I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same.”

“And here I was thinking that you must not feel the same if I’d been accidentally dropping so many hints for so long…” Eunbi frowns. “I kept thinking you’d eventually figure it out and it’d ruin everything.”

“Believe me, I know that feeling.” Her fingers brush over Eunbi’s cheek. “We’re both so stupid.”

“Yeah.” Eunbi laughs, pressing her forehead against Yuna’s. “Yeah, we are.”

They kiss again, and it’s considerably better the second time when it’s expected instead of a surprise, when it’s not a quick tackle that nearly knocks them over. This time, it’s meeting in the middle—no awkward angles or bumping noses or scrambling to find where their hands should go. Like coming home after a long time away, but you’ve always known where you belong.

That’s what kissing Eunbi feels like. Coming home. Being welcomed home.

“You okay?” She takes Eunbi’s face in her hands when they break the kiss. Coming down from the rush of it all reminds her of what they’d been talking about in the first place to lead them here. “I know you’re upset we didn’t win today…”

“Yeah. But you get better and better at pulling me out of it.” She grins, leaning into Yuna’s touch. “I think this time, I might’ve ended up with something better, though."

“Next time,” Yuna agrees. “They’re not gonna know what hit ‘em.”

The declaration’s punctuated with Eunbi hugging her tightly, like that’s reaffirming all the promises between them. Next time. Next year. We can do it. We will do it.

But in a way, it’s like they’ve reaffirmed something else—something that’s always existed between them, but has only been fully realized now.

She holds out her hand for Eunbi to take once they’ve finally gotten up off the ground and are ready to leave, to go home. Like she’s silently asking, waiting for confirmation. So it’s you and me, then?

Eunbi takes her hand quickly, entwines their fingers together as she pulls Yuna out the door. Her answer. You and me. Always.

“Y’know,” Eunbi starts after a few minutes, swinging their connected hands between them. “I still expect you to take me on a proper date, Yuna. Don’t think that just because you’ve been my best friend forever and married me when we were kids means that you get out of something like that.”

Yuna scoffs, kicking Eunbi’s leg lightly. “Give me some more credit, idiot. Besides, who said I had to be the one to take you on a date? You could take me.”

“Nuh-uh, you confessed first, so you take me on a date first. No take-backs.”

She groans, exaggerated annoyance. “I’m having war flashbacks to when we were five. You sound just like you did back then.”

“Haha, very funny. Don’t pretend you weren’t charmed by me back then too.”

“Maybe you should quit while you’re ahead.” But she squeezes Eunbi’s hand. They haven’t broken the contact between them since they left, their fingers still intertwined, linked. Together, forever.

************

Without even having to look up, Yuna knows who has sat down next to her, Eunbi’s shoulder brushing against her own, their thighs touching.

There’s a lot she wants to say to Eunbi: I’m sorry; playing with you all this time has meant the world to me; I wish I could have done more to make all your dreams come true.

Ever since they left the club, the rest of the team—for the last time—she’s been mulling over what to say. This ending, playing together ending, is a huge milestone for them, and she wants to get the words right—manage something beyond tears and menial comforting words that don’t really do much to soothe the pain at the moment after losing their last melody together, their last melody with this team.

“Thank you.”

Eunbi’s soft words jolt her to attention, and when Yuna looks up she doesn’t see a trace of sadness or anger or self-loathing or regret. All she can see is Eunbi’s smile, so inherently bright that it’s almost blinding.

It’s not one she would expect to see, not after…

“For what?” she finds herself asking, still not really sure what Eunbi is thanking her for in the first place. They’d lost, after all. They’d lost and—

The sigh Eunbi lets out is playful, mockingly exasperated as she pushes at Yuna’s shoulder. “You mean you don’t know, Yuna?”

“If I knew I wouldn’t be asking.” She pushes Eunbi’s shoulder back, nudging her gently, playfully.

“I really shouldn’t be surprised, you’ve never been the brightest girl around, Yuna.”

“Eunbi…”

Eunbi laughs softly at the mock anger, reaches over and takes Yuna’s hand in her own. Their fingers fit together perfectly, naturally. “Thank you for being here. I don’t think I could ever have asked for anything more than playing together all of these years, Yuna, and it’s something I’m always going to remember.”

“Don’t make it sound like the end, idiot.” She squeezes Eunbi’s hand tightly.

“Well… it is, in a way. We’ll be at different schools next year. I just… I wanted to say that playing instruments together was a good run. Thanks for sticking with me. You’re the best teammate, friend, and partner I could ever ask for.”

Dammit. Jung Eunbi for making her cry again.

“You’re the best everything,” Yuna says, laughing a little as she tries to wipe away the tears on her face with her free hand. “You are everything, Eunbi. I can’t imagine what life would be like if it was anything but you and me together. Thank you for staying, for being with me all this time.” She smiles as she squeezes Eunbi’s hand again. “I love you.”

Eunbi bites her lip, now quivering significantly enough that Yuna notices it. “Yuna… you… you can’t just one-up me like that! It’s not fair!”

“It’s completely fair,” Yuna shoots back, laughing through her tears as she leans forward, resting her forehead against Eunbi’s. “Let me win for once.”

“Technically, I made you cry first, so the win is mine.” Eunbi grins, reaches up to cup Yuna’s cheek. “And you have the nerve to always call me a crybaby, Yuna. Who’s laughing now?”

“Neither of us, considering that we’re both sitting here crying.”

That gets Eunbi laughing too, smiling even brighter than before. “I love you too.” She leans forward to kiss Yuna, confirming everything they’ve just said. “I love you, Yuna.”

They lean against each other when they pull apart, fingers intertwined as they glance out at the setting sun.

“It doesn’t change now just because we’re not in the same place,” Eunbi finally says, voice confident, despite the fact that being so far apart for the first time in their whole lives is a terrifying prospect.

“Not a chance,” Yuna agrees.

Things will change now. Things will be different. They’ll be at different schools, they’ll face each other on different sides of the court.

But there’s one thing that will never change: Jung Eunbi is Yuna’s best friend on the entire planet, and the two of them have always been meant to stick together, to be together.

That’s a promise.

************

They race to the club room, even though it’s not very far at all, for the last time. Always a step or two faster than Eunbi, Yuna reaches it first and jams the borrowed set of keys into the door to let themselves inside the empty room that’s characterized so much of their three years of high school.

It’s not like they haven’t been back in here since they officially retired from the team—all of the third years had come back here and to the club at least a few times to watch the underclass as they started working for the next year. But, even so, it’s strange to think this will be the last time, their last day in this room, in this room, in this school.

Three years. Three years of blood sweat and tears. Three years of wearing the same uniform, of playing together on the same side of the court.

Now, all of that would change from here on out. High school will be just a thing of the past, a memory as they move forward, to the future.

Even so, just because something changes, evolves, doesn’t mean the past never happened, doesn’t mean the building blocks that got them here are erased.

“Weird being in here when it’s so empty like this.”

“Yeah.” Yuna knows what she means. They’ve been alone in here countless times before, but there’s never been the hanging ambiance that it would be the final, final time until now.

And it is weird being in here without all the usual loudness and their members creating chaos. Really, there’s never been a dull moment…

(Once, Yuna had thrown a shoe at Eunbi that went skyrocketing through the room and hit the opposite wall instead, leaving a clearly noticeable scuff there that they all pretended they never knew the origins of when they were asked by their coaches.

Once, Hwang Eunbi and Kim Yewon had spent an entire early morning practice shouting history facts between drills to help each other study for an exam they had later in the day. And by entire practice, that included the ungodly time in the morning they’d arrived at the music club and continued until they were rushing out the door after practice to get to class.

Once, Jung Yerin tripped over a bench when Kim Sojung—in that ultra casual, totally disinterested way only Sojung can emulate—told her a spider was on her head as a prank, which sent Hwang Eunbi into a fit of laughter while Kim Yewon documented the entire scene on her phone.

“You know what I always like to say?” Kim Yewon had said in response to Jung Yerin’s embarrassed reaction. “Pics or it didn’t happen.”

“Pics or it didn’t happen,” Hwang Eunbi had agreed, calling Kim Yewon’s idea words of wisdom before she swiped her phone and sent the video to their team’s group chat. “But luckily, we’ve got pics.”)

Yeah, they’re taking their final walkthrough of where so much of their high school experience resided, but this silence really makes it feel like it.

This really is their last step before everything changes, when they’ll attend different schools, make decisions about their lives going forward. They both plan to keep instruments a firm epicenter of their lives in college.

Beyond that, Yuna’s always known that even if she doesn’t chase after instruments the way Eunbi will—probably far beyond college and all the way to the pros—the pianists, singers, musicians in general, is something she wants to keep in her life.

“Well… take your last look,” Yuna says after a few moments of quiet. “I’m sure our parents are gonna wonder where we’re at if we don’t…”

“Yuna.”

“Yeah?”

Eunbi presses the little green ring from when they were kids into her hand, closes her palm around it. “Don’t forget me, okay?”

She smiles and takes Eunbi’s hand, gives her her own blue ring. “There’s no way I ever could.”

It’s tradition to give someone your second button after you graduate. But the two of them have always done their own thing, adapted and changed what they wanted to make something their own. Theirs. So rather than exchanging second buttons, they exchange the rings they’d given each other when they were six with a promise to hold onto each other’s rings when they’re apart.

When they leave the music room for the last time, it’s not with fear or heaviness in their hearts. They take their first steps into a post-high school world with their fingers intertwined and a promise exchanged between them.

Even when they’re far apart going forward, when distance stretches between them and takes them different places, they still will always have each other to come back to.

They’ll still always have each other to come home to.

************

 

“Can I talk to you about something?” Eunbi asks one weekend they’re spending together, voice cutting through the quiet as they sit curled up on the couch together.

“Yeah, of course.” Yuna withdraws her legs from where she’d kicked them out to rest on her coffee table when Eunbi slides out from under her arm to sit crosslegged facing her on the couch. “Everything okay?”

The fact that Eunbi is asking to talk about something rather than being comfortable enough to just say it outright worries her a little bit. It means that whatever it is, she’s nervous to bring it up, to talk about it.

Eunbi nods, reaches for Yuna’s hand, playing with her fingers like she’s trying to distract herself from whatever it is she wants to say. For a moment, Yuna is worried Eunbi’s lying to her about everything being okay, a quick sting of worry passing through her at the thought of something really being wrong.

“Eunbi,” she prods gently, which prompts Eunbi to finally look up at her. “What is it?”

Eunbi in a breath. “Well… I’m almost done with school, and I got an offer to keep playing… um, professionally.”

“Seriously?” Yuna tugs Eunbi’s hand, pulls her into a tight hug. “That’s amazing! I mean, I’m not surprised at all. It was only a matter of time ‘til someone snatched you up.”

Her laughter, close to Yuna’s ear, sounds too subdued for someone who got asked to play pro. “Thanks, Yuna.”

“Aren’t you happy? Because you don’t sound like it…”

“I am happy. Trust me!” Eunbi pulls back from the embrace, but keeps her arms wrapped around Yuna, close contact. “It’s just… it was an offer from… uh… kinda far. Far as in, overseas… in Chopin.”

Chopin? Not just another country, but a whole different continent? The biggest international competition? Miles and miles away? The furthest they’ve ever been apart in their lives?

Wait…

“Don’t you dare tell me you’re thinking of saying no because of—”

“I’m not! I just think… it’s important for us to talk about this, right? It’s kind of a big deal.”

“Yeah, of course it is. But we’ll be fine. We’ve done distance before.” Granted, this is much, much further than anything they’ve ever done throughout college, but…

“We’ve done distance before, but it’s… I feel like it’s not fair for me to ask you to halt your whole life or change any of your plans down the line because of something I—”

“Hey.” Her fingers brush against Eunbi’s cheek, a gentle caress. “You’re… you’re meant for this. I’ve always known that. Ever since you were the first one on our team to teach yourself to do the chord in junior high. This is important to you. It’s your future. And that makes it mine too. I’m always going to be there and support you. No matter what.”

Eunbi’s fingers curl tightly in the back of her t-shirt. “Yuna…”

“No one said distance is gonna be easy, but we can make it work. We’ll figure it all out down the line… if… if that’s what you want.” The last part of her statement trails off, more uncertain, the confidence she’d initially felt fizzling out a little bit because while she doesn’t think breaking up is what either of them want, what if there is a possibility Eunbi wants to? Living in a whole other country may make her want something like that…

But any momentary doubt is crushed by Eunbi’s quick nod, her eyes watery with the beginnings of tears in them. “You’re sure?”

Really, she’s not sure of a lot of things. It’s funny, thinking about the future as an adult, a new level of stress and pressure accompanying age, a totally different world from deciding what university to attend and what to study. The future is always up in the air—it’s what you make it. And even then, things change. They can always change in a split second, a singular moment.

Some people know what they want from a young age; others figure it out much later; and others have no clue what they want out of their future. It just falls into place for some, and others have to work and reach to carve out a spot for themselves.

For Choi Yuna, it’s not all that difficult of a decision. Because if there’s ever been one thing she’s always been certain of, has always been able to put her trust and faith and her whole heart into, it’s Jung Eunbi. Any future she’s ever envisioned is with Eunbi at her side. Always.

So while the logistics of a big change like this may be unknown, she knows she’d be fine dealing with it, navigating their way through it together. Just like they always do. It may not be easy or smooth all the time—totally different than the linear path of finishing school, moving in together, getting married, adopting a pet, maybe kids eventually… the whole shebang—but this is the two of them with all of their earnest, dead set determination and sincere promises shared between them. Steady feet, fierce hearts, connected hands.

If this is what they both want, there’s no question about it.

“Of course I’m sure.” She reaches up, takes Eunbi’s face in her hands, continues to lay her heart out on the line in a way that the thought, the soon-to-be reality of being miles and miles and an ocean apart makes her able to. “I wanna eventually live together in a house that you’ve picked all these ugly decorations for because you have terrible taste, and I say I can’t stand them, but I really don’t mind. I wanna wake up together every morning and fall asleep together every night. I wanna have a dog and maybe a kid or two. But most importantly, I want to be with you. No matter where the future takes us. That’s never going to change.”

The wetness of tears hit her fingers. Eunbi’s nose is all scrunched up like she’s trying to hold them back, but can’t despite the valiant effort. But she smiles, doesn’t stop smiling, even as she pulls Yuna into a kiss.

“I love you,” Eunbi hiccups. “Yuna, I love—”

“I love you too, Eunbi.” Maybe she’s crying too, she thinks, as Eunbi’s fingers brush against her face as the two of them shift, fall into each other like they’ve been doing for years and years. “I love you.”

************

She doesn’t know how long they stay like that—arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace—but eventually, their tears have stopped, and they’ve shifted their position, lying back on the couch instead, Eunbi pressed against Yuna.

“I’m excited to keep playing, but… I’m scared too, Yuna,” Eunbi mutters after what could be minutes or hours of just lying there together, lifting her head to look at Yuna.

That’s not surprising. It’s gotta be a terrifying idea to go to a new country all on your own, no matter how much you want to chase your dreams.

“You’re gonna be great wherever you go,” Yuna says to reassure her, knuckles brushing against her cheek. “And I’m gonna be right there with you, okay?” When all your dreams come true, I want to be the one standing next to you.

She sighs as she lays her head back down against Yuna’s chest, directly over her beating heart. “I knew there was a reason I married you when we were kids, Yuna.”

“Yeah. Great choice on your part, right?” Which draws a laugh out of Eunbi, who curls her fingers in Yuna’s shirt.

“Great choice on my part, and an even greater choice on your part.” Quiet laughter passes between them, and Yuna tangles her fingers in Eunbi’s hair. God, she’s going to miss this.

“I’ll miss you,” Eunbi whispers, a quiet murmur against Yuna’s chest, like she knows that’s exactly what Yuna had been thinking in the moment.

Yuna nods. “I’ll miss you too. But it’s not forever.”

“It’s not forever,” Eunbi repeats, a reassurance to them both, a promise that any distance between them is temporary in the long run. They’re meant to be together. “Right.”

“Well,” Eunbi says, as they stand face-to-face in the lobby of the airport. “Looks like this is it, huh?”

Yuna nods slowly. “Yeah. Guess so.”

Despite saying so, neither of them makes a move to say goodbye, even though Eunbi’s got a flight to catch. Almost like if they don’t move it will stall time, give them a little longer together before they have to separate with the uncertainty of when they’ll see each other next.

When it seems like neither of them wants to make the first move, wants to acknowledge the inevitable, Yuna finally speaks up. “Can I give you something?”

For a moment, Eunbi seems taken aback, but she recovers quickly. “I’m never going to say no to a gift,” she says with a grin.

“I know.” Still, she hands Eunbi what she had wanted to give her—the ring from when they were kids, Eunbi’s ring that she had given Yuna when they graduated high school. “We traded last time we were separating for a while, so I feel like it’s fitting if we trade back now.”

“Hang on.” Eunbi closes her palm around the ring before reaching to dig in her backpack with her free hand. A moment later, she pulls out the ring she’d been holding onto and hands it to Yuna.

“Don’t forget me, okay?” Yuna says when the ring is in her hand, her palm closed over it tightly.

Eunbi’s smiling at her, but it’s a little shaky, her lip quivering the slightest bit. Still, she jokes, “The only way that’s happening is if an alien abducts me and erases my memory.”

Yuna groans. “You have a terrible sense of humor.”

“Aw, c’mon. Admit you’ll miss it.”

“No way.”

Over the PA, someone calls out a gate change, drawing them back to the reality of it all. That they’re in the airport and Eunbi has to leave soon.

“So…” Yuna starts, but Eunbi beats her to it.

“Sooo… is this gonna be a real one next time?” she asks, looking up from the ring in her palm and grinning.

“A-are you really asking me to propose to you?” Yuna splutters, caught off guard by the sudden question and Eunbi’s stupid grin, the casualness of something so big. “Just like that?”

Really, it’s a prospect that isn’t a shock or surprising or anything like that. They’ve said it in so many words, ways that weren’t official, but mean the same. Getting married… it’s something she thinks they’re both certain will happen somewhere down the line.

“It worked when we were kids!”

She can’t help but laugh. “We’re twenty-two!”

“And we’re still together. I’ve obviously done something right.”

“Ugh. C’mere.” She pulls Eunbi into a hug. “I’m gonna ing miss you.”

“Me too,” Eunbi murmurs, hugging her back tightly. “I’ll miss you so much.”

“It’s not forever,” she reminds her, something they’ve been telling themselves since this became the direction Eunbi’s going in. “And I’m coming to see you the first chance I get, okay?”

“Okay.” But she sounds a little uncertain, afraid, and honestly, Yuna doesn’t blame her. It has to be terrifying to go alone to a whole other country, into a whole new life. She’d be afraid too, if the roles were reversed.

“You’re gonna do great.” Yuna’s fingertips brush against Eunbi’s cheek before settling in her hair.

This time, Eunbi smiles. “I always do.” And she pulls Yuna into a kiss.

“I love you, Eunbi,” she says when they pull apart, knowing that their time together is running thin. Eunbi needs to go, no matter how much Yuna wishes she could stay or that she was going with her.

But it’s not forever. It’s not.

“I love you too, Yuna.” Eunbi hugs her one last time.

“Have a safe flight. Let me know when you land, alright?”

“Yep. I will. See you later.”

“See you later.”

So they let go of each other, and go their separate ways. It’s not forever, and it’s not goodbye. Not a chance.

************

“I could get used to this,” Yuna blurts out one evening when they’ve wrapped themselves up together in Eunbi’s bed, her fingers in Eunbi’s hair as they lie here together.

They’re twenty-four years old now, and have been navigating this impossibly long stretch of distance between them for over two years now. It’s not as difficult as when it first started, but still, there are some nights the loneliness creeps in, an untreatable ache that’s only made worse by knowing there’s a twelve hour time difference and a gigantic ocean keeping them apart.

Yuna misses Eunbi every single day, and maybe it’s not as painful as it was in the early days of this, but it still hurts to dwell on just how far and how long they’ve spent physically apart.

“What?” Eunbi rolls over, resting her chin on Yuna’s chest so they’re able to look at each other. “Being with me every day? Can’t blame you for that. I am pretty good company.”

“Obviously not.” She rolls her eyes at Eunbi’s joke, her attempt to fish for compliments. “I was talking about how comfortable your pillows are. They’re way better than mine.”

Her lip juts out in a pout. “Really? You came all of this way for my pillows? Not me?”

“Sorry to break it to you this way.” She picks up one of the pillows lying next to her and hits Eunbi’s arm with it when she pinches her side. “Hey! Don’t do that! I’m not afraid to kick you off of this bed.”

“You come into my home for a week and act like you own it now,” Eunbi mutters, under her breath, but loud enough for Yuna to hear the quip as she tries to conceal her laughter. “That’s fair.”

“And you’ve done the same when you’ve come to my place, so it’s totally fair. Remember the last time when you ate all the food I owned?”

“I’m not gonna be able to let you go back tomorrow.” The tone shifts as Eunbi says what they’re both thinking, and turns her head to rest her cheek against Yuna’s chest. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“I know…” Her fingers curl in Eunbi’s hair, brushing against the back of her head gently as Yuna thinks about what she wants to say next, about what she’s wanted to say for a while now. “Maybe… maybe we don’t have to…”

“What do you mean?” When she shifts, her eyes fall on Yuna again. “You’re gonna stay longer?”

Here goes… “No. I mean… not right away, at least. But what if we made this more permanent?”

Silence engulfs them for a moment before Eunbi speaks. “You… are you saying you want to live here? With me?”

“Yeah, with you. Who else?” She laughs, poking Eunbi’s forehead. “Unless you have a roommate I’m not aware of?”

A quiet snort of laughter slips past Eunbi’s lips. “No. Just you when you’re here.”

“Yeah, so… I’ve thought about it a lot. And looked into it, and talked to some people. We’ve known for over two years already this was gonna be the ultimate goal, so I’ve been preparing for this for a while, really, with school and work and everything. Within the next few months, I think I’d be ready to do that.”

“Really?” Eunbi nearly shoots up out of the bed in excitement as she processes what Yuna is saying. “You mean it?”

“I mean, I love to get the last laugh in, but that would be a low prank for me to play.” She grins, rolling over onto her side and resting her hand on Eunbi’s thigh. “Yes, I mean it. Did you really think we were going to spend the next few years only seeing each other once every few months?” If they’re lucky enough to even get that. Nearly three years of that has been bad enough, but to do that indefinitely? That would .

“Ideally, no. But if we had to…”

(A while ago, Eunbi had told her, “I’ve never expected you to pack your life up and move across the world for me.”

My home is with you, Choi Yuna had wanted to say. Home sure as hell isn’t her own apartment where she’s lived alone the past few years. That’s been fine and good, a placeholder until something more permanent for the two of them became possible.

“Half my life is wherever you are,” she’d said, not caring how cheesy it sounds because it’s the blunt truth Eunbi needs to hear. “And that’s what I’m choosing. Not because you expect me to, but because I want to.”)

“We don’t have to, though. That’s what I’m saying.” She tugs on Eunbi’s hand, pulls her back down so they’re lying on their sides, face-to-face. “It’ll still be a few months, but you’d better start preparing to see me every day.”

Even though it doesn’t seem that out of place—it’s the logical next step to take in their relationship and adult lives—it’s still exciting to think of moving in together. It’s exciting, but in some ways, it’s terrifying too. But it’s a transition they’ll face together, that they’ll make happen together.

“I don’t need to prepare for something I’ve been wanting for such a long time.” A happy sigh slips past her lips as she tangles her legs with Yuna’s. “I can’t wait.”

“Yeah, me too.” She leans forward, presses a kiss to Eunbi’s forehead. “I can’t wait.”

************

It’s not like she owns that much stuff, so packing up isn’t that difficult. And she’s still got two weeks to do it. But it’s a busy two weeks of wrapping things up here. She’d promised to do things like go see her parents before she leaves, and Eunbi’s mother had asked her to stop by as well—to say goodbye and to pick up a few things she’d wanted her to take. 

As she’s putting some stuff on her desk away, the blue ring she’d received back from Eunbi a few years ago at the airport catches her eye. She picks it up, looking at it for a few moments. It’s worn now, a little off-color from age and from the use it had gotten when they were kids.

“So… is this gonna be a real one next time?” Eunbi had asked back then, and it seemed a long way out to think of something that would be more of an official symbol of permanence, but really, now that they’re a few years older, and have really taken the final few steps to completely establishing a permanent future together, it doesn’t seem so far out. It seems just around the corner, really.

Maybe…

The buzz of her phone quickly pulls her from her thoughts, and when she jumps to sit on her bed, to grab her phone that’s ringing with a request from Eunbi to FaceTime, she lets go of the ring, sets it down not too far out of reach as her phone occupies her interest instead.

It’s a little past eleven at night, which means it’s only around eleven in the morning over there, but it’s usually pretty customary if they’re going to call each other, this is when they’ll do it. Once when it’s nighttime for Yuna, and once when it’s nighttime for Eunbi.

She answers the call after the third ring. It takes a moment to connect once she’s accepted the call, but soon enough she can see Eunbi’s face on her phone. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Guess what!”

“Hello to you too.” Still it doesn’t slip past her that Eunbi’s words have an air of uncontainable excitement surrounding them. Something important has happened, and whatever it may be causes Yuna’s heart to pound. “So, what’s the big news?”

“I just found out a few minutes ago. You’re the first to hear it after me.” She grins, unable to hold back the excitement now as she runs a hand through her hair.

“Okay, then don’t keep me in suspense. Spit it out.”

“You’re...looking at the newest competitor of Chopin.”

“Are you serious?! Eunbi, congratulations!” She has to remember to lower her volume—it’s late and her neighbors wouldn’t be happy with being woken up. But she can’t help it. She’s happy. So, so happy. “You did it!”

“I did it.” Eunbi’s voice sounds faraway, like she’s still in disbelief. “I really did it.”

This is the same girl who always had this air of confidence that warred with her own self doubts that fought to push that down, that made her feel inadequate, like she wasn’t going anywhere but instead would always remain stuck stagnant in the middle, close enough to the top that she could brush it with her fingertips, but that was never, never enough.

But things are different now. Over time, with lots of hard work and some growing up, Eunbi’s really managed to carve a path for herself. And all of that has brought her here.

“So that means…”

“That means next year I’ll be going to the Chopin if we qualify.”

The Chopin. The greatest stage of them all, something so many athletes dream of from the time they’re children onward. Something not everyone achieves, something you have to fight tooth and nail for.

And more likely than not, next year, Eunbi would be there.

She’s about to say how proud she is, but Eunbi beats her to it. “Hey, Yuna?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For sticking by me all this time and for supporting me. And well, for everything, really. I just…” She lets out a puff of breath. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted, and you’ve been with me the whole way. I don’t think I’ve ever said how much that means to me.”

“You’ve been with me this whole time too.” That’s just how it’s always been between them—give and take, stand by each other’s sides no matter the circumstance, no matter how hopeless something may seem at the time. Whatever they’ve faced, they’ve always gotten through it together, and they’ve always shared in each other’s accomplishments and successes like they were their own.

There are a lot of ways things could have gone for them, and those hypotheticals are stupid to dwell on because they’re here, still together. But just for the sake of saying, they could have separated long ago. In junior high when they’d fundamentally disagreed about the way Eunbi was looking at everything. They could have gone to different high schools and never played together again. They could have missed every opportunity to confess how they really felt about each other. They could have decided to call it quits when Eunbi decided to go play in another country because that’s a huge strain on any relationship, let alone to do it for a few years.

But they’d always stuck together, and now that some normalcy is right in reach and they’re accomplishing things they’d dreamed about for years, it really does feel like things are all coming together for them, that they’ve grown into adults they would be proud, happy to be as teenagers. They’re lucky.

“I’m really, really proud of you. You worked really hard for this.” And now the whole world is gonna know your name. “I’m gonna hug the hell out of you when I see you in two weeks.”

“I hope I’ll get more than that.”

Moments like these are the ones that really hammer home that being so far apart , that receiving news like this through a phone screen will never, ever compare to receiving it in person. There’s a lot Yuna knows she conveys better through touch—with a hand pressed to Eunbi’s shoulder, with a brush of her fingers against her cheek, with a tight hug around her waist. She can’t do any of that right now, but god, all she wants to do is touch Eunbi.

Two more weeks. Two more weeks, and she can. This time, with no time limits placed on how long they’ll have before one of them has to leave again.

“Yeah, you will,” she says with a laugh. Whatever you want. Every day. Always. “Promise.”

Eunbi grins. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“I know. Me too.”

“Think it’s too late to call my parents?”

She shakes her head. “If they’re asleep, I don’t think they’d mind if you woke them up. This is kind of a big deal.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Eunbi looks over her shoulder, saying something and waving at someone who had just walked by her. “Guess I should go, then.”

“Yeah. I should probably go to bed soon anyway.”

She nods. “Sleep well, Choi Yuna. I love you.”

“Love you too. Congrats again. You should be proud of yourself.”

“I am!” She grins. “Thanks! I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yep, talk to you later. Have a good rest of your day.”

The call ends, and Yuna sets her phone to the side. The ring she’d left sitting on the bed by her knee catches her attention again, and she picks it back up, holds it in her palm for a minute before going to set it back down on her desk.

She smiles, thoughts wandering back to what she’d been thinking about before Eunbi had called. Yeah… things really are all coming together for them.

 

                                         ______________

 

There’s nothing quite like being at the Chopin in person.

There’s also nothing quite like watching your lifelong best friend win a gold medal at the Chopin.

This is the same kid Choi Yuna had been beside when Jung Eunbi first picked up a Pianica, insisting they try it. The same kid she’d spent so many years with as one half of a pair on the court. Years and years of work has brought her here.

It took time to get here, lots of hard work, lots of failure and getting right within reach before having it ripped away. But Jung Eunbi had done it. She’d overcome every obstacle in front of her to make it here.

And Choi Yuna has never experienced such an overwhelming sense of pride, a burst of happiness and fondness and love all rushing over her at the same time.

Maybe things hadn’t panned out on the promises they made in junior high and high school—to win it all, to go to college together. But that wound has long since healed. Everything they’ve experienced together has given them something irreplaceable in turn, something still burning strong and bright years past that. Still together, after all of this time, at each other’s sides as they’ve obtained different types of dreams than they’d had back when they were teenagers.

They’ve always had a lot more to look forward to together than just playing and singing together. It’s always, always been more than that.

“Yuna!” The moment she’s able to, Eunbi runs over and nearly tackles Yuna in a bone-crushing hug.

“Eunbi!” Yuna hugs Eunbi back just as tightly, fingers curled in the back of her jacket.

There’s a lot she could say, a rush of what she wants to say. How proud she really is. Just how much she totally, completely loves the small girl in her arms. What it’s like to watch the most important person to you in the entire world achieve their dreams.

But sometimes, all they’ve needed to say what they want is touch rather than a million words and verbal explanations. So she settles for a simple—

“You played amazing,” she tells Eunbi, resting her hands on her cheeks when they break the tight embrace. “You’re amazing.”

“Thanks!” Eunbi smiles, but it’s quickly overwhelmed with happy tears, like it all hits her at once when the rush of immediate adrenaline cools a little, as she drops her head down against Yuna’s shoulder. The theater is deafeningly loud, with cheers and applause and screaming under the bright lights, cameras snapping everywhere. But Yuna can hear Eunbi so clear next to her. “Feels like...I’m invincible.”

That really hammers home just how far they’ve come. How far away in the past struggles from junior high and high school are now. How much they’ve grown up. How much things have changed since then.

Jung Eunbi’s always been so unbelievably bright, a shining star in the sky, someone meant to fly so, so high above everyone else.

And Yuna’s never felt that more than when she’s standing under fluorescent lights in a huge theater, cameras everywhere, watching a gold medal be placed around Eunbi’s neck.

When all of your dreams come true…

I’m glad I’m the one standing next to you.

************

Being back home, in the houses, the town they grew up in has been a nice break from it all. Eunbi likes the newfound attention that accompanies winning a gold medal at the Chopin, and honestly, Yuna isn’t that surprised by that. She deserves every bit of attention she’s getting.

************

“It’s been so long since we’ve been back,” Eunbi says softly, squeezing Yuna’s arm tightly as they walk.

Both of their mothers had been insisting for a while that they come and visit, Eunbi’s mother in particular very adamant that her son visit home for a while after the Chopin were over.

“I know.” In a way, this feels like the first time they’ve had to breathe since they got back here. There’s been so much happening.

But now, it’s just the two of them.

They’ve barely gotten anywhere when they stop—almost like a magnet drawn here—at the park near their houses, where they’d spent many of their years growing up.

“Still looks the same.” The warmth of Eunbi’s hand leaves Yuna’s as she takes a step toward the otherwise empty playground.

“Yeah.” Other than a few updates, it looks the exact same as when they’d last been here, years ago.

This is where they end up, then. On the swing set at a playground they hadn’t been to since they were teenagers, but that holds a heap of memories of growing up together.

The box in Yuna’s pocket, though small and weightless, suddenly feels heavy as her thoughts wander to it. She’d bought a real ring relatively recently, but probably should have given it to Eunbi long ago. Really, she’s never thought a proposal would be much of a shock. If anything, it was more of a way to make everything official after all this time, and they’d been headed this way for years.

“You should push me.” Eunbi says, voice cutting through the quiet from where she sits on one of the swings.

Yuna laughs at the thought, but jumps down from the swing she’d been standing on and grabs onto the chains of the one Eunbi sits on. “What? You don’t wanna challenge me because you know I swing higher and jump further than you?”

They’d tried this before as kids, but also as teenagers one night, seeing how high they could go, who could jump further. Probably dumb, in hindsight, had they hurt themselves, but in the moment it had been fun—the quiet of the night besides their laughter and trying to goad each other on, the brightness of the stars, the rush of wind in her ears.

That night feels so far away now—years and years ago, Eunbi’s head pressed against Yuna’s shoulder as they sat in the grass, both laughing so hard about something stupid that they couldn’t breathe and they’d only laugh harder every time they looked at each other. It’d been a while before they’d told each other how they felt, but it’d been such an intense truth in her heart, her mind that it was inescapable, something building and building until it was acted on.

Now, they’re here in the very same place. But this time, instead of an ache in her chest when she’d looked at Eunbi’s face and thought about how much she wanted what she could never have, she’s here with something much different. A box in her pocket, a chance to make everything between them officially permanent.

“You only could jump further than me because you cheated,” Eunbi accuses, turning in the seat of the swing to look at her.

“How the hell do you cheat at swinging?”

“I don’t know, but you obviously figured it out.”

She pushes Eunbi’s back. “Okay, sore loser. Remember that game we’d play when we were kids where we’d twist the swing around with one of us sitting in it and then push it to make it spin as fast as we could?” One time, Eunbi had gotten so dizzy that she tripped over her untied shoelace when she stood up and scraped her knees on the ground. She’d whined about it the rest of the afternoon. “I’m about to try that again.”

“You wouldn’t!” The laughter doesn’t work well with her feigned disbelief, gives away the charade of being offended by the ‘threat.’

“Oh yes I would. Try me.”

“Remember that time you dared me to the swing set?” Eunbi asks over the creak of said swing set.

“I didn’t dare you to the swing set. You asked me if I’d dare you to do it, and I told you not to.”

“Details,” she says, waving her hand back and forth, dismissive to the idea that she’d been the one to suggest something so stupid.

“That’s a pretty big detail to forget. Especially when it was something so stupid.”

“Not really.” Eunbi turns her head, shoots her a grin. “Speaking of stupid, remember that time you wanted to try and swing around the bar of the swing set and broke your arm when you tried it and fell, though? I told you not to.”

“You did not! You were the one who helped push me so I got high enough to try it. I thought my mom was going to kill me after that. She probably would have if I hadn’t already gotten a broken arm out of it.”

Another memory hits her suddenly, laughter overcoming her at the thought. “God, remember when I knocked one of your baby teeth out when I cracked you in the face with a volleyball I hit?”

Eunbi shudders, but laughs too. “It was really loose anyway, but there was so much blood. You hit it like a monster even back then. I was traumatized.”

“Yeah, well if you knew how to receive it properly…”

“We were seven!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You got enough apologies for that out of me to last you a lifetime.”

In the rush of laughing about stupid things they had done as kids, there’s another memory, though, from this same place, twenty years ago now, one they’ve left unspoken for the moment. A summer afternoon, when Eunbi had accidentally kicked down the sand castle Yuna had been building in her excitement to run over to her. When she had shoved a tiny plastic ring into Yuna’s hand and asked her to propose to her because that’s what people who wanted to stay together forever did.

“Hey…” Eunbi’s voice cuts through the momentary silence Yuna hadn’t realized had settled between them until Eunbi had said something, the creak of the swing grinding to a halt as she drags her feet on the ground. She stands, turns to face Yuna. “You okay?”

She nods, hand coming to rest on Eunbi’s that had been curled around the chain suspending the swing in the air. “Yeah. Of course.” She wants this, all of this, everything with Eunbi, she thinks, squeezing her hand. God, she wants this so bad.

Eunbi smiles at her, bright, bright as the glowing sunset illuminating the playground. “I first asked you to get married to me right over there.” She gestures toward a few feet away from them, like she’s read Yuna’s mind, knows that she’d been thinking of a memory that feels just like it was yesterday instead of so long ago. She laughs a little. “Look how far we’ve come.”

“Hey, don’t tell the story wrong. You asked me to propose to you, and then said I did it wrong.” She laughs, though, pushes Eunbi’s shoulder with her free hand as she agrees, “That’s how it’s always been, though, right? You and me… it’s always been us.”

They really have come a long way. Twenty-six years together. “Did you ever think we would have ended up here?” she asks.

“If you’re asking me if when we were kids I ever would have thought I’d be back here after winning a gold medal in the Chopin and that we’d fall in love and live together in another country, the answer is no. Too specific of a dream.” Eunbi grins. “I think I’ve always known that wherever I ended up I wanted us to be together, though. And I’ve gotten that.”

“Yeah, me too.” She lets go of Eunbi’s hand that they’d had wrapped around the chain of the swing and steps around it so they’re face-to-face without a barrier between them.

“Yuna?” Eunbi turns to face her, a flash of confusion in her eyes, like she wonders where this is going. Honestly, Yuna’s surprised she hasn’t figured it out yet. They usually can pinpoint how the other is going to act before it even happens, a skill that took years and years of perfecting, mastering. Something only they know, an ability only they have.

Her fingers thread with Eunbi’s when Yuna takes her hand. Every time she’s thought about this moment—and yes, she’s thought of proposing to Eunbi various times over the last few years—there’ve been different ways she’s pictured it: planning meticulously, accompanied with some sort of speech; spur of the moment and improvised. There have been plenty of times she could have asked Eunbi to marry her—casual and spur of the moment or planned out—but something in her has always seemed to know it’s the right decision, the right time to do it here, back in their hometown, at the park right by their childhood homes. The same place they’d done this as kids, in what feels like a million years ago.

In the end, she’s never needed to have some big, meticulous plan for what to do. In the end, her heart has always directed her, and she’s followed it. Followed it here, to where they stand now.

“Since you said I didn’t do it right the first time when we were kids, I figured I should make it up to you now.” And she reaches into her pocket, lowering herself onto one knee. “Eunbi, will you—?”

“Yes!” The grip on her hand loosens, and Eunbi tackles her in a suffocating hug before she truly registers that it’s happened.

“Hey, who’s not doing it right now? Let me finish!” Despite the words, she laughs and wraps her arms around Eunbi, cups the back of her head with her free hand and holds her close to alleviate the clench of her chest, the burn behind her eyes at the premature answer.

“Sorry, sorry,” Eunbi sniffles, and she squeezes Yuna one more time before she pulls back from the embrace. She wipes her forearm over her eyes, swiping away tears. “Please continue.”

Yuna laughs, moves her hand that rested on Eunbi’s head to cup her cheek instead. “Eunbi, will you marry me?”

“Yes.” The word sounds even more certain, more resolute the second time Eunbi says it. “Yes, Yuna. Yes.”

Their hands both tremble as Yuna pulls the gold ring out of the box and slides it onto Eunbi’s finger. But as soon as it’s on, their lips meet in a kiss.

“I love you,” Yuna says when they pull apart after a few moments. Eunbi’s fingers brush over her cheek, wiping at the tears she knows are there, just like they are on Eunbi’s face. “I love you so much, Eunbi.”

The smile on Eunbi’s lips is bright, as bright as Yuna’s ever seen it—genuine and real and perfect. “I love you too, Yuna.”

This has been such a long time coming—years and years of existing together, side by side, building to this moment, this next step forward, together.

Things change, but this is the best type of change. A new beginning that’s accompanied by overarching familiarity, a continuation of the story—their story—but with a new element added.

Their lives started moving in this trajectory from the get-go, pushed along when they’d first decide to wear those plastic rings as children, and peaking now, when that symbolic promise and everything it’s ever grown into has evolved into Choi Yuna sliding a real ring onto’s finger while they kneel on the ground of the park they’d first done this at, in front of the old creaky swing set they’d played on as children.

As kids, they’d had no real way of knowing if that promise—the desire to stay together—would ever become anything real in the future. They didn’t know it would take them this far, that something they’d done spur of the moment when they were kids would last so long, grow into more than they ever could have ever imagined.

But now? Well…That idea—together, has never felt this good, so right.