The earliest memory Hitomi had was the moment she was adopted into a three-member family that lived in the outskirts of Seoul. The Kim Family—Papa Taeyeon, Mama Tiffany, and Juhyun unnie. For Hitomi, her family was them—and none other but them.

 

Papa Taeyeon used to tell her that her birth name was Honda—she was Honda Hitomi. She wasn’t Korean, but rather a pure Japanese. The caretaker’s story about how did Hitomi end up in Korea instead of Japan was vague, as if she wasn’t sure of it herself. All she knew that Hitomi was left there when she was too young to remember anything.

 

But again, Hitomi didn’t really care about that. What good was it to remember parents who abandoned her without any explanation? The only people who deserve being called as her parents were Taeyeon and Tiffany. Those Hondas were no ones.

 

The Kims were her only family, and Hitomi stood by it.

 

---

 

Hitomi was smart, but she wasn’t a genius unlike what her parents presumed. She was just a highly observant kid, with a knack of remembering sequences—especially when it was about motions. She might not be a genius, but she was born with the talent to dance.

 

Her parents and of course, beloved Juhyun unnie were supportive. They were singers, or at least, they leaned toward singing more rather than dancing; but they still supported their youngest to do what she wanted to do. It was the right thing, wasn’t it?

 

Right thing or not, Hitomi felt happy when she first attended a dancing course. She was a shy kid, but her natural cuteness was a magnet for those who always gravitated to anything cute. Girls flocked all around her, gushing about her cuteness and cheeks that filled with “hopes and dreams”.

 

Such as Kim Chaewon.

 

Chaewon was actually a year older than she was, but she had a youthful face that sparked mischief. Which Hitomi often saw on kids her age. And that made Hitomi mistakenly thought that Chaewon was one of her same-aged-friends, and settled on casually calling her “Chaewonnie” for few months.

 

Chaewon luckily didn’t look like she minded being called so casually. She even looked glad Hitomi was comfortable enough around her to call her sweetly like that. It was short lived, sadly; because Hitomi saw her hanging out with her friend which Hitomi recognized as her senior at school. She called her “Chaewon-unnie” from then on, and it was awkward as they began to adapt on this new norm.

 

Yet strangely, their relationship only grew stronger after that. Hitomi seemed a lot more comfortable calling Chaewon properly with “unnie” honorifics, like she was supposed to do with someone older than her. It was quite funny.

 

It also made Chaewon discover that Hitomi somehow grew significantly dependent, increasingly clingy and a lot more welcoming when she asks for some skinship compared to when Hitomi thought her as one of her peers.

 

It was as if that in order to reach the highest level of comfort, Chaewon must be referred as an unnie first.

 

---

 

Years passed. Chaewon would be entering middle school soon and she would be separated with Hitomi. They met on the usual playground one day, but they were both oddly silent for some few moments.

 

“I want to follow you,” Hitomi told her, after a full fifteen minutes of silence. “You’re going to PD middle school, right unnie?”

 

“Yes.” Chaewon made no attempt on hiding it. Her voice was sound and clear, but her eyes just weren't there. “I’m going there. You shouldn’t.”

 

“But why?” Hitomi didn’t understand. “I can go there and we’ll be together again!”

 

“Hitomi.”

 

“It’s a school for failures.”

 

---

 

Hitomi didn’t really remember how was middle school. It felt like a time skip, like what she usually saw on movies and Japanese cartoons Juhyun introduced her to as of late. But it was a pretty long time skip. She was surprised by the time that time skip ended, she was in a close-knitted group of four—with herself as the defacto leader even when she never really did any kind of leading.

 

Jo Yuri, Yabuki Nako, and Kim Minjoo. They were her bestfriends. Same class, same study group. It was like life threw them together purposefully.

 

Minjoo, the oldest and the ever romantic of them, liked to think they were destined to be together. Nako, ever the cynical, liked to think they were scammed to be together. The difference in opinion always resulted in war breaking out between the two, with Yuri enabling in the background and a tired Hitomi stopping the argument with a simple twist of her fingers. Right on their belly. It made them scream and further disturbed Hitomi’s peace, but at least the disturbance was short-lived.

 

“Where are you going to sign up for high school?” Minjoo asked suddenly.

 

It wasn’t sudden, actually. They had been dwelling on that matter for several days, but neither of them answered with a straight answer. It was also reinforced by the fact that Minjoo never pressured them to answer, and seemed to let go of the discussion quite easily.

 

But today was different. Neither of them changed the topic like what Yuri always did.

 

Yuri answered first.

 

“I’m going back to Busan,” she said quietly. Her usually confident voice sounded so small and unsure. She didn't look at her friends as she spoke, insisting on eyeing the darkening sky with her all. “I’ll be the only one who is away.”

 

“You’re not,” Nako refuted, shaking her head. Much like Yuri, she didn't look at them. She had her eyes rooted on the ground, somehow finding a keen interest in those small ants roaming about. “I mean, you’re not the only one. I’ve told you that my parents wanted to move back, right? Well, they’ll be taking me, too.”

 

“Is this the end of Four Musketeers, then?” Hitomi laughed bitterly. “This is—quite sad. What about you, Min? Where are you going?”

 

“Where the wind takes me,” she said with a smile. The other girls snorted, unamused by her light, seemingly joking answer. “How about you, Tomi? Are you really going to continue your studies to PD Highschool?”

 

It was where Chaewon study, right? They never contacted each other ever since that separation—her messages left unread, her social medias blocked. Chaewon was pushing her away, but Hitomi knew better than giving up.

 

Through contacts, Hitomi knew Chaewon had not yet given up with her dreams—of becoming an idol, even though the older girl dubbed the school as a “pathway to failure”.

 

Chaewon must not wanted Hitomi to do what she was doing.

 

All these years, Hitomi wondered why.

 

“No,” Hitomi answered, shaking her head. “Same as you. Wind.”