I stayed silent and waited for Suji to explain herself.

It must have been sometime in the afternoon, then. Sunlight filtered through the blinds and casted dancing shadows on Suji's face, reflected in her eyes. The café was not full but nonetheless it was alive with sound; sound, that at that moment, was only background noise to me and Suji. 

I wondered why Suji (of all people) would ask me such a question— it had been five years since someone had last asked me about the life span of cicadas and it had never been a memory I was fond of. I was beginning to feel a certain hatred to the insects.

I opened my mouth to speak but the words did not come out. I remember Suji smiling, then. It was a small smile, one that almost looked sympathetic. 

"Did I hit a nerve?" She asked, the smile already wiped clean from her lips.
I must have nodded, because she kept talking while I sat in awe, not sure of what was unfolding before me. 

"Myungsoo told me a lot about you and your conversations with him." Suji explained. 

"He said you reminded him of cicadas." She said and the corner of tugged upwards ever so slightly.

As far as I was concerned Myungsoo did not even know Suji and Suji did not know Myungsoo. Obviously I was wrong.

As Suji spoke, I listened. 

She told me that she and Myungsoo were neighbours, but Myungsoo had the tendency of avoiding her at school for reasons, she, nor I, could fathom. She told me the night before Myungsoo went missing, he called her. 

At that moment I understood what jealousy felt like. Although I missed him the most, I wasn't the last person Myungsoo spoke to, Suji was. And although I (felt like I) was most affected by Myungsoo's disappearing act, Suji was. 

Of course, I did not stop to consider that, then.

"He asked if I wanted to travel across the country." Suji said quietly, head bowed and all. 

Her dark hair covered her almond eyes and For a second thought she would cry but she did not, she lifted her head and began talking again. 

"I told him I would, when we were older," 

"And then he hung up."

<> 

By the time I took Suji home it was already night. She lived in an apartment in the heart of the city. She insisted that I didn't have to her, but I convinced her I had business there, that it would only be convenient for the both of us. In truth I did not have business to attend to— I just didn't feel like going back to the stuffy motel room.

We took a bus, riding in silence. It was crammed, but we managed to get two seats. Suji sat by the window while I tried my best to keep my limbs tucked in. Suji leaned her head against the window as she watched the twinkling lights disappear from sight, the thing is, though, Suji was prettier than all the lights of Seoul. 

"Suji," I called absentmindedly. She hummed in response. 

"I've an idea." I remarked.

"Pray tell." She replied with a hint of amusement; my ideas were not always the best and Suji was unfortunate enough to know that.   was still resting on the window. 

In my mind, Suji, Myungsoo and I were the only people who existed in that moment. The bus did not exist, nor did the other people riding it. The three of us, Suji, Myungsoo and I, were alone in a vast field of nothing. Myungsoo had gone missing and the reamaining of us had to set off in a search for him. 

"Let's find Myungsoo." I suggested.

Of course Suji would say no. 

"His own parents have no idea where he is, Sungyeol." Suji said sounding sadder than I'd ever been. 

"So?" I said in defense.

"So you're being ridiculous." Suji replied. She was not looking at me but I could see her face in the reflection of the window and while she sounded apathetic, she looked upset, like, she wanted to tell me to shut up. 

"You said across the country, right?" I said in a hushed tone. For some reason I thought that a decrease in the volume of my voice would comfort her. And for some reason, it worked. 

She hummed in response, again. I remember grinning, but I don't know why. Perhaps it was the fact that I had comforted Suji or the idea of finding Myungsoo that had me excited as hell. 

"That's all we have to do, isn't it?