Choi Hana sipped her hot coffee, scalding her tongue and sighed. What was she going to do with the person sitting across from her?

Looking up, she watched as Ellison Kim stared absentmindedly out the window, watching the passerby’s with an unreadable expression.

A few minutes passed by but for Hana, it seemed like an eternity. She knew that Eli was thinking about her friend Kyung-mi and her decision to move back to America but really, after 2 months you’d think he’d at least be able to move on a little.

“And you’re sure she’s never coming back,” Eli said out loud, finally glancing back at Hana.

Honest and as unforgiving as usual, Hana rolled her eyes. “Yes Eli. For the millionth time, she’s got her own life now.”

“Have you talked to her recently?”

Hana bit her lip, unsure of what to say. Of course the two had remained in touch – she knew all about Kyung-mi’s new life at Harvard, her classes, her new nerdy friends, everything. But perhaps it would be better for Eli, in the long run, to believe that Kyung-mi have severed all ties with Seoul.

“Nope” was her simple response.

Eli sighed and Hana’s expression softened.

“It’ll be alright Eli – it’s time to stop brooding about the past and to start being here and now.”

“Don’t you miss her too?”

“Of course I miss her!” Hana exclaimed exasperatedly. “But I know that in the end, it was meant to be. I want her to be happy – don’t you want that too?”

“Of course,” Eli muttered. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Hana chuckled. “How about Kevin? How’s he holding up?”

Eli shrugged. “I don’t know, honestly. The guy should be an actor someday. Around the fans and the other members, he’s… normal.”

“Maybe he’s moved on too,” Hana hinted.

Eli scoffed. “Doubt it.” Secretly, he appreciated that Hana was trying to make him feel better. Taking him out for coffee, doing whatever, the little things did make a difference. Perhaps it was time to move on.

“You gonna finish that?” he grinned, feeling a little bit like his old self again.

Hana stuck her tongue out but passed him her unfinished latte. “It’s all yours.”

Drowning the rest of the searing hot liquid down his throat with a quick gulp, Eli stood up and brought their cups back to the cashier. With that, the two exited the cute coffee shop and leisurely strolled down the street.

A comfortable silence between them, they naturally walked to a small park within Seoul. It was a nice day out – even if they could feel the beginnings of an autumn chill on their backs. Around them, families with children of all ages spent time together – picnicking, lounging, and playing ball – all trying to squeeze out the last few moments of summer. 

The two settled down on top of a hill, giving them a view of the entire square. Ice cream vendors and other fast food stands were set up around a bright fountain, giving the space a more festive air.

Spreading her sweater onto the warm grass as a makeshift blanket, Hana sat down, content. Eli, after a few moments consideration, sat down beside her.

After that, the two didn’t speak for the rest of the afternoon – just happy to relax in each other’s company and unspoken friendship. Eli would be all right. Hana could be the person her brother wanted her to be.

Life would go on. Heck, they had the rest of their lives to anticipate. They were only 22! There would be plenty of fish in the sea for Eli – and for Hana, a world of dance and commitment to volunteering awaited her. Even though they had their whole lives to regret – there was no point wasting any time brooding about the past. Time was ticking… it was time to move on.

And as the day came to a close, Summer left the two with a gift – a beautiful, orangey-red sunset which peaked just above the structures of Seoul. Its glory spread through every nook and cranny of the park. The fountain gushed sunbeam water, and a comfortable breeze fell into place.

As the two stood on the hill that night, basking in the sun, they knew that that another day was upon them.

“And so we go,” Hana smiled, feeling rejuvenated.

“And so we go,” Eli echoed, grinning back.