I’m sorry but maybe it’s better if we end this.

Irene has been staring at the same text for the last 10 minutes.

Actually...

Ten minutes was an understatement.

Everyday for the last two months, Irene would open the same message and stare at it as if it’s a new message she received on a daily basis. From a friend or a coworker or family. But no message would give her this kind of ache. A feeling that something ended before it could even start. Everyday, the same amount of worry and anxiety lie beneath her hands, making her tremble as she’d open the dreaded message. She doesn’t know why she’d willingly put herself into this kind of agony.

But there are some pains we can’t let go of, she thought as she clutched the front of her shirt right where her chest throbbed in pain.

Old habits die hard, they say. She knows it’s unhealthy for her to keep coming back to an old message and constantly remind herself of her loss. It’s a pain she’d have to bear, if only it could slowly eat away the guilt she’s been carrying.

“Unnie, let’s go.”

Instinctively, Irene brushed the corner of her eyes. Feeling her fingertips wet with tears she didn’t know was clinging on the soft skin beneath her eyes. She heard a soft sigh.

“You’re reading it again, are you?” Irene looked away, she didn’t have to answer when Seulgi already knew her answer. Standing up from her bed, she picked up her things and started to walk towards the door.

We’ll only end up hurting each other, the last line said. It seemed ironic when she’s already -- still -- hurting.

---

The streets were full of people fast-walking to their destinations. Some on their phones talking animatedly to god-knows-who. Some are latching on their friends arm, pointing excitedly at various stalls displaying mouthwatering foods and trinkets for cheap prices. Irene observed them all with a certain nostalgia that has nothing to do with her surroundings.

This is the first time she’s been to Japan.

But for some reason she felt like she's stayed here for years. The street they crossed on was just the same as it was described. Teeming with people from various ages, wearing school uniforms or work clothes, clutching briefcases or backpacks behind their back. The building animatedly displays huge LED screens of commercials of artists and products. 

It hit her, then.

The nostalgia.

She craned her head around, looking for that certain shade of brown. The people around her towering over her, obscuring her view. She lagged behind her friends, certain that her heart wasn't beating wildly because of the pain.

She knows why but she refuses to acknowledge it, denying herself of accepting the fact that she could've met a certain someone here. 

It's been months.

"Irene-unnie," she felt someone grab her hand, her feet listlessly dragging behind her. She knows the long limbs holding her hand is Joy. She hears noises but couldn't decipher a single thing she's saying. 

Everything around her is blurring in varying shades of blue. Her color.

---

"Unnie, that was dangerous! You're standing in the middle of the streets! You could've got run over by a speeding car!"

The strong scent of spices, the warmth and sepia colored bulbs hanging between Vietnamese hats greeted her. Irene's eyes glazing over the open kitchen area displaying their cooking for the world to see.

"Unnie, are you listening to me? Are you okay?" She felt a hand touch her cheeks then her forehead, checking her temperature. Taking away the hand, she's met with her friends worried gazes.

"I'm sorry. I must be tired from the flight."

"But we barely traveled 2 hours by air, unnie," Yeri argued. Seulgi quietly laid a hand on her shoulder and shook her head.

"Eat dinner first then we'll send you back to the hotel, unnie. We'll bring home medicines from the pharmacy if you're feeling a little under the weather," Seulgi said, smiling that familiar kind smile at her.

But it gave her an ache in her chest. Reminded of a similar smile, kind and warm and tender. Irene looked away, grabbing a pair of chopsticks to distract herself.

"Konnichiwa! Namae-wa Wendy-desu, I'll be your server for today!"

The sound of the chopsticks cluttered on the wooden surface of the table, followed by a dull thud of a cup meeting the ground. Fortunately, the utensils are wooden like the rest of the establishment. Unfortunately, Irene wasn't as tough as wood.

"Unnie, do you want us to bring you to the hospital?" Yeri asked but was met with silence.

Irene stood up in a daze. Eyes only looking at the pair of dazzling brown she's used to staring at on a thin screen. But its the same. The color, the shade, the little specks of black making it look deeper and intense.

It's the same.

Only now, she's seeing it on the flesh.

---

Seulgi has never seen Irene this animated in months. Like a puppy wagging his tail excitedly as soon as he whiffs a scent of its owner. Her friend's mood turned a total 360 from being so downcast and to being this bright. She could barely peel her eyes away from the pretty server noting orders from other customers.

Joy and Yerim have been eyeing her, knowing she's the only one who can answer the underlying questions on their gazes. She didn't expect to be put in a tight spot just for being Irene's best friend.

"Joohyun," Irene froze on her seat. The effect her real name brings was like a bucket of water to her being. It's never a good thing when she's called that.

She noticed the curious gazes from the two, Seulgi's hard stare boring on her own, their questions waiting to be spelled out in the open. And after that ungraceful way, stammering as she listed her order, they know it's the elephant in the room waiting to be acknowledged.

"Omatase shimaa! Here