Yuna adjusted her cloth cap. She took it off her head and analyzed it. She frowned as she finished. How long had she had one like that? Totally black. She could have sworn there were none like that in her collection.

She put it back on hesitantly and started walking. She crossed the large gates made of iron bars and, when she was inside, she turned sharply. What was she doing there?

What was Yuna doing in a cemetery?

Her heart began to beat fast, nervous, terrified. She wanted to pull back, but she could not. Her feet moved forward, following the main path, from which others, less wide, ran between the tombs.

She could not speak. It felt as if was sewn shut, and she had to put a hand to to check that it was not.

Her feet turned to a small path on the right. She scanned the graves with her eyes, but she could not read any of the epitaphs, nor could she read any of the names or dates. They were all erased or damaged.

She stopped suddenly, almost as if her feet had a life of their own. She glanced out of the corner of her eye at the grave beside her, feeling two urges: one to look directly at the grave, another not to do so and run away from there.

She turned her body to face the grave.

“No, no, no…” Yuna repeated several times, covering her eyes with her hands.

She didn't want to see that grave for anything in the world. She felt that something horrible would happen to her heart if she did.

An outside force forced her to remove her hands from her face. She opened her eyes slowly, breathing heavily.

She looked at the grave, stifling a gasp as she saw the name carved into the stone of the tombstone.

Shin Ryu-jin

2001 - 2022

---

“No…!” Yuna gasped, writhing on the bed.

She covered her face with her hands, feeling it wet. It got even wetter as she cried harder.

“Ryujin,” she sobbed.

Sadness and fear were suddenly overshadowed by despair.

Yuna grabbed her phone, wetting it a little with her tears, and turned it on. It seemed to take it forever to do so.

She searched as quickly as she could for her chat with Ryujin. She sobbed again, this time in relief, when she saw the time of the last message.

Ryujin (11:13 P.M.):"<3"

“Thank you,” Yuna said. “Thank you.”

“Just a nightmare,” she thought.

The overwhelming sadness subsided, but to finish burying it, Yuna reached into her phone's gallery. She searched for the last photo she had of Ryujin, showing her alone hugging one of her cats. It had been taken by Yuna herself a short time ago.

She was tempted to call Ryujin at that hour, just to hear her voice. It was early morning, but Ryujin would surely answer her. However, she didn't. She didn't want to spoil her dream, and above all, she already knew it had been a nightmare.

“I hope you never get out of prison,” Yuna thought with annoyance.

She was still afraid for Ryujin. She had lived with her, talked to her every day, but she was afraid for her all the same. She feared something bad would happen to her again, and she feared what that would mean for herself.

“Go to sleep,” Yuna murmured. “Go to sleep, or Ryujin will scold you for staying up late.”

She dried her face with the sheets and went to bed again. She fell asleep reminiscing about her last conversations with Ryujin.

---

“I've arrived, Ryujinie!” Yuna said as soon as she entered Ryujin's house.

“I'm in the living room, Yuna-yah!”

Yuna made her way to the aforementioned place, wondering what Ryujin's reaction would be when she saw what she was holding.

Ryujin's dimples welcomed Yuna, though they hid as soon as he saw the balloons Yuna was holding. She raised an eyebrow, in an expression that said “What the hell are those?”.

“I found it at the JYP reception today,” Yuna explained as she approached Ryujin, who was sitting on the couch.

She placed a soft kiss on her lips and then passed her the balloons. Ryujin took them hesitantly. They were pink and purple balloons.

“The pink ones are from Nayeon-unnie and her group,” Yuna said, touching the helium-filled pink balloons, which had a big smiley face painted on them, along with a 'get well soon <3', “and the purple ones…”

“…It's pretty obvious,” Ryujin finished, letting out a laugh.

Yuna smiled unconsciously upon hearing her laughter.

“Jungkook-sunbaenim left a message saying that he couldn't go to the hospital while you were there because his group was on tour, and that he and Taehyung-sunbaenim deeply regret not making it.”

Ryujin separated the purple balloons from the pink ones, holding the pink ones in her right hand and the purple ones in her left. The purple balloons all had a large beige heart and a thumbs up.

“That's a nice gesture from my sunbaes,” Ryujin said as she finished her inspection. “Too bad Jungkook and Taehyung can't be reached. However, I'll be sure to kneel before TWICE when I see them again, and if I meet the boys on the street sometime, I'll do the same,” she said in a determined voice.

Yuna let out a giggle and sat down next to her, hugging her. Yuna wanted to hug her tightly, but she was still afraid of hurting Ryujin somehow. She kissed her cheek soundly.

“I'll do it with you,” she said before biting her earlobe.

Ryujin squealed and rolled over.

“That tickles!”

“Just tickle?”

“Well, it turns me on a little too, but don't tell anyone.”

Yuna smiled sideways and bit her gently again. This time, Ryujin grunted and turned her head to look at her face to face.

“I've got my hands full: don't abuse, Yuna-yah.”

Yuna pouted, pulling her lips outward. Ryujin stared at them, making Yuna smile inwardly. She approached the rapper, whereupon their breaths met each other.

“Ah, good afternoon, little Yuna!”

Ryujin turned her face to the front and Yuna dipped her head in her hands, blushing from almost being caught kissing Ryujin in front of her own mother.

“Hello, Mrs. Shin.”

---

Yuna carefully measured each cup of rice before pouring it into the rice cooker.

“Two cups is enough for two people?” she muttered under her breath. “I think so.”

She proceeded to chop the carrots on the counter, with the rustling of the rice cooker in the background. She put the knife aside, thoughtfully.

“Mr. Shin won't be coming today, but Mrs. Shin will be here late tonight,” she said to herself. “I should make some more rice then.”

A pair of arms wrapped around her from behind. Yuna gasped before standing still as a statue.

“Good morning, love,” Ryujin said. She rested her chin on Yuna's shoulder.

Ryujin's husky, deep, sleepy voice almost made Yuna's legs turn to jelly.

“Ah, good morning, Ryujinie,” Yuna greeted. “Are you standing without your crutches?”

“They're behind me,” Ryujin said. She pressed herself against Yuna, wedging her figure against her. Yuna swallowed hard as she felt Ryujin's s press against her back. “I'm leaning on you.”

“It's too early for this attack on my sanity,” thought a stunned Yuna.

“Go on,” Ryujin murmured, “If I'm not in the way, that is.”

“No, no! As long as you're not using your right leg, it's okay.”

Yuna took the knife and slowly cut the carrots. Ryujin's hands rested on her waist and the rapper's breath scattered across Yuna's shoulder, who couldn't stop thinking about how perfectly Ryujin's body fit her own.

Ryujin hummed quietly, sending vibrations down Yuna's torso.

“Help,” Yuna thought, how was Ryujin able to take down her defenses with so little? Ryujin wasn't even doing it on purpose: she had just woken up and probably hadn't even washed her face to clarify her mind. In other words, she was lost in time and space.

A sharp pain in her left index finger swept away Yuna's ramblings. She let out a hiss of pain and brought her finger to her face. A small drop of blood appeared at the site of the cut.

“What happened?” Ryujin asked in alarm.

She stood next to Yuna, leaning her hip against the counter.

“I cut myself,” Yuna said, still looking at her finger. “What an idiot I am…”

“Nah, it can happen to anyone,” Ryujin said as she took Yuna's injured hand and brought it close to her face. “Even to the most skilled chef.”

“Well, that's true,” Yuna said, looking towards the corridor leading to the bathroom. “I'm going to get a band-aid.”

She felt her finger wrap around something warm and moist. She frowned deeply and looked at Ryujin. The rapper had put her finger to .

“B-b-but what…”

“Shut up” Ryujin's words were slurred due to the action ehe was taking. “It's to preven it from bleedin' to mush.”

It felt quite strange for Yuna to feel Ryujin's tongue twirling around her finger.

“Aren't you disgusted to taste blood that isn't even yours?” she asked with flushed cheeks.

“Nah, it's yours so I don't feel disgusted,” Ryujin said with her eyes closed, which Yuna appreciated. She couldn't help but stare at what Ryujin was doing.

She wanted to pull her finger away, but Ryujin's concentrated expression appealed to her.

“She could be sitting there doing literally nothing and I'd still think she's amazing,” Yuna thought. The thought made her cringe, like when she was caught stealing cookies from the counter as a child. Still, she embraced it: she liked feeling so full just watching Ryujin doing Ryujin things.

“I think it's enough now,” Ryujin said. She let go of Yuna's finger and smiled, “You've been taking care of me all this time; what less to do than this? Anyway, go wash up and put something on. I'll watch the food.”

“Good,” Yuna muttered before walking briskly away. She heard the ghost of a giggle.

“Of course, you knew what you were doing,” Yuna thought unable to help a half-smile.

---

“The afternoon is warm,” Yuna said, looking out the living room window at the glowing orange Sun.

“Really? That's strange,” Ryujin said.

It was mid-October, so to witness a day that wasn't laden with cold winds was almost a miracle.

“I want to go to the courtyard,” Yuna said, tracing jagged lines on Ryujin's thigh.

Ryujin scratched her head, humming softly. It seemed to be a pensive humming.

“If it's warm out, then let's go. I could use some fresh air.”

Yuna stood up and reached her crutches to Ryujin. She helped her up despite Ryujin's protests.

“I can do it alone,” she said.

“I don't doubt it, but if I can help you, why not?”

Ryujin snorted and gave her a look between amused and annoyed.

“Well.”

Yuna stepped forward and opened the back door, the one leading to the courtyard. It was a large courtyard, carpeted with green grass, freshly cut by Mr. Shin. The wooden fence that enclosed the area reached Yuna's shoulders, which prevented gusts of air from disturbing the interior if one sat down, which in winter came in handy. Yuna hadn't been in it in summer, but she hoped the fence wouldn't be a problem when it came to shaking off the heat.

A long wooden table, with large wooden benches of equal length and material, was situated to Yuna's left. In the far left corner was a tree, its branches bearing reddish-brown leaves. They would soon fall off, leaving the tree bare.

“Hey, come on,” Ryujin said as she passed by.

Yuna helped her down the couple of steps to grass level. Yuna sat down on one of the wooden benches at the picnic table and Ryujin sat down next to her with a snort.

“Walking with these things is more tiring than it looks,” she commented, setting the crutches down on the table.

“But they're preferable to the wheelchair.”

“A thousand times.”

“How long do you have to carry them?”

Ryujin leaned back, resting her elbows on the table behind her.

“If all goes well, until December,” she said. “There I will then switch to a cane.”

“A cane,” Yuna repeated in her mind. From wheelchair to cane was great progress, but Yuna still found it sad to have to watch Shin Ryujin walk with a cane.

“I know what you're thinking,” Ryujin said, looking up at the clear sky. “I'll look like an old woman walking around with a cane.”

“I wasn't thinking that,” Yuna said with a frown.

“It was that or something like it. It doesn't matter; I find it too... outrageous? sad? hurtful? Maybe all three.”

“It won't be for long,” Yuna said quickly. She didn't want Ryujin to fall into the dark hole again. The one that made her a silent and unexpressive person for a month.

“Oh, sure, sure. In fact, I'll be able to drive again when I start using it!”

“Yes? Don't you have to use your leg for the pedals?”

-Yeah, but I'll cope with it without any problems.”

“If you say so…” Yuna gave her a sidelong glance before looking at the leaves on the tree.

“So be it.”

“But don't go out alone anyway,” Yuna said. She couldn't help the fear creeping into her voice.

Ryujin took a few seconds to respond.

“He's in prison.”

“No change, Ryujin. Please don't go out alone.”

“You know... you know it's impossible for me to be accompanied all the time. Just like it's impossible for you to be accompanied every time you go out in the street,” the way she spoke, you could tell that they were words Ryujin didn't want to utter.

Yuna fell silent, knowing Ryujin had a valid point. But how could she get rid of the fear? She sighed deeply.

“I'll try not to eat my head about it,” she said.

“Nice,” Ryujin said.

“I'm still afraid for you,” Yuna thought. She didn't say it because it would only worry Ryujin.

Her mood clouded. Thinking about the man who had put Ryujin in her current situation made her angry, but most of all it made her scared to death. Would he have friends? Someone to entrust him to... finish the job? Yuna got goose bumps just thinking about the possibility.

“I don't like to talk about this,” Ryujin said.

“Yes, it's not pleasant to talk about it.”

“However, it is necessary to do so. Not every conversation is going to be about flowers and roses. Life isn't all about that.”

“I know,” Yuna turned to look at her. Ryujin was still looking at the sky tinged with the blood of the Sun, which was spilling endlessly across the sky. “What is your greatest fear?”

Ryujin gave her a sidelong glance before closing her eyelids.

“I'm somewhere between the reporter sending someone after one of us and never being able to dance again,” she said slowly.

Yuna thought she would refuse to say it, claiming it was already too much of a negative topic for one day. She was surprised.

“On second thought, continuing to devote a fraction of my thoughts to that guy isn't worth it, so my answer is: may I for some reason never be able to dance again. The possibility that my ankle will now be forever more fragile; that my crural muscles will atrophy despite all the therapy.”

Yuna digested the information in silence. “It makes me happy to dance, an