“unnie, are you sure you want to go to seoul?”

“min, this is the fifth time you—”

“i know, i know… it's just… i can't imagine you gone.”

“if you study hard enough you can join me a year later.” no response. the fading smile of chaewon's face grows again when she sees minjoo halted in her tracks. “what,”

no response. minjoo only frowns, reluctantly trudging forward to meet her steps. the crunch of her footsteps on the street joins white noise. they fall into a regular pace. “what?”

“don't you feel like, i dunno, sad?”

“why?”

“to be leaving everything behind? all your friends and family and…” 

...me.

minjoo's voice drowns out. you know, the white noise. it's sunday and at the peak of the evening rush. somehow she persuaded chaewon to take a break and grab a bite or something but she no longer has the appetite. the dark circles under chaewon's eyes look so real and she hates it. reminding her that it's really happening. she's really going to leave. in one month there won't be a kim chaewon to bother and drag to the market when she's bored. kim chaewon will be in seoul, 300 kilometres away, living alone in a lonely city with people she doesn't know. kim chaewon is leaving. 

“i am, but… this is just something everyone has to face, min. i can't live here forever, can i?”

“the colleges here are good too. and people say that there's barely any room to breathe in seoul… and the people there aren't like how they are here. they'll just make fun of your accent everytime you talk and after that… you won't speak the same way anymore. i don't get why—, why are you so hellbent on leaving, unnie?”

“i'll have to leave some time or the other, if not for college then for a job or maybe i'll just want a change of scenery.”

“but why do you want to leave now? you promised we'd be together until i graduate school.”

“i said i'd be at your graduation. and we made that promise way back in seventh grade when i had to repeat a class—i thought they wouldn't promote me to ninth the next year, so,”

it's on the tip of her tongue. but minjoo could never ask that big of a request from chaewon. not when she's been slaving away day and night to score high on the SAT. all this effort because she wants to leave their hometown, she wants to study at the national university and lead a college lifestyle with no parents breathing down her neck.

i'm thinking of going to seoul for college. 

the decision seemed rather rushed, considering how she never talked about it with her before. chaewon blurted it out just before they parted ways at the crossroads between their houses. it was about two or three months before her last year in highschool. around the time she was dating lee changyun ever since he confessed on valentine's day. chaewon always tells her she's too young to date and that she should at least wait until she's twenty, but the prospect of a teenage romance was just too irresistible. besides, he would always buy her favourite chocolate each morning and leave it on her desk. unfortunately, they couldn't last until the next change of seasons but it's alright. some things aren't meant to be. 

chaewon flicks the side of minjoo's head and stares at her with a grimace. “your face is gonna stay like that if you keep that frown up.”

the frown deepens, now more emphasized with it reaching her brows. chaewon sighs, her hand reaches for minjoo's shoulder to stop their journey to nowhere. “let's get some ice cream. i'm buying.”

“i don't feel like eating.”

“fine, we can get cheeseballs instead. just don't order five sets this time, dad's limiting my allowance.”

“no, really, i'm—”

unspoken words. this only comes with years of familiarity, and luckily, they have a few years under their belt. chaewon's fingers circle minjoo's wrist and a familiar pressure seizes her. chaewon knows something's off. minjoo doesn't want to meet those eyes looking so confused at her but she does anyway. “what's wrong?”

“unnie…”

the difference of a year. chaewon is nineteen, minjoo is eighteen. but actually, it's only a difference of six months. maybe a little less than half a year. if minjoo was born a little earlier, then they'd be the same age. the same year, same class. she wouldn't be leaving minjoo behind as she is now. well, if they were the same age and everything else was the same, then she'd still be trying her best to keep distance. maybe that's how it'll always be. chaewon can only run away giving vague excuses and minjoo will never doubt her false truths. unnie. the word sounds heavy in her ears. she tries to live up to the word, even if it's just a six-month gap, even if minjoo has always been more mature of the two of them. “...it feels like you hate being here with how bad you want to leave.”

and it feels like it has something to do with me.

“minjoo…”

minjoo knows. 

the last year of high school is hell. no one in the country is as stressed as a high school student in their last year and chaewon is taking it harder than most. it's natural they have less time to spend together. there's no time to waste. there's no reason to spend time with her anymore. of course, she understands. education is important and chaewon wants the best education she can get in college. change comes inevitably. minjoo knows all this. none of it explains this, this tension plaguing them, though. chaewon isn't the same anymore. no— chaewon and minjoo aren't the same anymore. ever since she decided to leave for seoul. 

ever since they turned eighteen, nineteen. 

“it's not that i want to leave,” a bitter weight settles in chaewon's chest. how many more of these half truths can she manage? “it's how—, things turned out to be like this, that's all. and i love being here——it's gonna be scary and unfamiliar when i go to seoul but everyone has to let go some time. i should see how the world is, right? how it is outside our small town. how to be independent. i can't even iron my own clothes without burning myself, y'know? i don't hate being here... you'll, you'll understand next year.”

chaewon needs to let go. minjoo slips out of her grasp. 

let go. 

her hand drops back to her side. she feigns ignorance when minjoo tries to hold on, trying to walk down the street holding hands like they always did, all those years ago. change is inevitable. chaewon isn't the same. no— what minjoo is to chaewon isn't the same anymore. it'll never be the same. another four years this way would be hell. it's not like she's the only one hurting, too. the heaviness of minjoo's sigh rings in her ears. it can't go on like this anymore. 

“...are any of your friends going? or are they planning to?”

“well, suyeon said she might if she miraculously ends up with a high score… and the smart kids are probably aiming for seoul too.” minjoo stares, wordlessly. a reluctant nod and chaewon's lips rise into a devilish grin. “if you're wondering about changyun, then… he's pretty smart so i think he'll leave too.”

“oh, shut up…” it's the same. the weak fist directed at her, faltering in the last moment for knuckles to graze against her shoulder. chaewon laughs and everything feels normal for a second. “aww, min, are you worried about him?”

“no, i'm not…”

“not even a little? because you should see how he looks at you when—”

“unnie.”

it's normal for chaewon to tease minjoo. it would be normal for minjoo to retaliate something witty or a pout or a whine, but no.

“sorry.”

it's not the same anymore.

minjoo doesn't know why.

“i was just trying to be—”

“—funny, i know. i don't think you should do that at seoul… you'll end up being a loner, unnie. and i won't even be there to keep you company.”

“hey—! my jokes are funny! you're laughing at them all the time!”

she raises her brows and chaewon concedes. 

so they walk down the street. hands to themselves, shoulders touching. the noise starts to die out. “are you mad at me?”

“...why would i be…?”

“you know. for leaving.”

“oh.”

not for that, at least.

“no. i respect your decision and… if you think that's what's good for you then…”

minjoo knows that chaewon is too soft for her own good. chaewon can't deal with problems head-on, and she worries that chaewon will leave the two of them uncertain like this. she'll leave this tension unresolved. she won't even tell minjoo why tension had to come between them when she's known her for half of her life. chaewon will leave without telling her why things are different. chaewon will leave her in the dust, the dark. 

“i'm sorry.”

“why?”

“for leaving.”

“you don't need to—”

“—i know, i know. i just feel like i need to say it.”

her mom calls her a little later, telling her to get home fast. you barely have any time left, how are you going to get into SNU at this rate? then she sighs, deeply, breaking the news to minjoo with a frown. 

a familiar path. one they've been down thousands of times before. the evening rush quiets, and soon enough, they reach the crossroads to their homes. 

“hey, min,— are you crying? why are you,”

“i'll miss you, unnie.”

chaewon slithers an arm across minjoo's shoulders, a feeble attempt to comfort her. the girl takes it as a cue to hug her with every last ounce of her being. suffocating, almost. “i'll miss you too, min.”

“i miss you, unnie.”

chaewon hears it all. sharp intakes of breath, the waning of her words, tears seeping into her voice and faltering, unnie. 

minjoo isn't sure how long they stay at the crossroads, reluctant to go down two different paths—but time passes and the words get harder to keep down. stay, unnie. but minjoo isn't selfish enough to ask her to. she wishes, she only wishes that she was. 

every second spent standing there is excruciatingly long. chaewon bites her lips to keep the shaky breaths in. her chest feels heavier as she exhales, teardrops leave perfect lines down her cheeks. it reminds her of the days they'd spend hours standing here in the middle of the crossed roads, too caught up in conversation to go home. 

if only she was brave enough to tell her. 

i’m in love with you, minjoo. 

how long do they stay together? chaewon waits, counting the seconds. minjoo holds on, willing for the moment to last forever.

— X —