Chapter Text
Heejung had known from the beginning some of her friends would be leaving, but… even though she had known Jihae and Jieun would be leaving soon, there was a finality to it she’d never expected, now that everyone had shown their hands and all secrets had been revealed.
Which wasn’t something she minded— being ‘in the know,’ as Jiwoo had put it, was infinitely better than what they’d had before— but it also meant there wasn’t even a ghost of a chance of being able to stay in touch with two of the people who’d been there for her during some of, if notthe most trying times of her life.
The friends she’d made along the way had been invaluable in helping her discover herself in bits and pieces, and those moments filled her heart with more warmth than she could name.
Heejung had learned what kinds of foods she’d liked in between teaching Jisoo and Lily how to cook, found out what kind of sense of humor she had via bantering with Jiwoo; had explored Busan alongside Jihae and Jieun, and rediscovered her love of art along the way even as Jiseok took the world by storm. It was those memories, and the sense of self she’d built along the way, that had given her the strength and capacity to determine what she wanted to do with her life and stand up to her own mother.
…and now, one third of her friend group would be moving onto the next stage of their lives. Would be going home, to another world entirely.
As happy as Heejung was for them, part of her heart hurt knowing she’d never see them again. Would never hear Jihae’s quiet chuckling at a joke they’d heard in passing, never see Jieun’s face as he tried new foods— would never see what kind of man he’d grow up to become.
Heejung had known from the beginning that her time with them would be limited, but.
For some reason, she had naively assumed they’d be able to keep in touch afterwards; had tentatively hoped they might be open to the odd phone call or letter, even after they left.
But now…
It was for the best. It was necessary.
That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
Apart from Jiseok and his headache of a situation, she could count on one hand how many people cared about her, and vice versa.
And sure, Heejung grappled with her feelings on some things, because sometimes part of her couldn’t help but look back over the past year and wonder at her friends’ original motives for befriending her, but.
Nothing erased the fact that at the end of the day, these were all people dear to her. People who encouraged her to pursue her goals just like she did with them, who teased and bantered and gave her concerned looks when she got sick. People who had seen her at her best and at her worst, and stayed with her anyway, reminded her that she wasn’t alone in the world.
And now two of them were leaving, and she’d never see them again.
Heejung let out a shaky breath and shook her head for a moment, as she finished cleaning up after the ‘going away party’ that had just finished.
Well, okay, that was a bit of a misnomer. She’d suggested a small toast after a quiet meal as a way to say goodbye— but then Jiwoo had chimed in with how he was going to be studying abroad soon for his program, and Jisoo had heard ‘dinner’ and next thing anyone knew, it had snowballed into a party complete with balloons, streamers, and confetti.
Jiseok had volunteered to take care of the food via making arrangements with his cafe for catering, though Heejung wasn’t sure if it was generosity or self-preservation at the prospect of having to help make enough for everyone in their tiny kitchen that motivated him. Either way, that had been that taken care of, and with professionally-made dessert as well, because her roommate was nothing if not an overachiever.
…her roommate.
Who, in the days since her mother’s visit and everything that came after it, managed to be an even bigger enigma than ever before.
Heejung had been struggling to figure out where they stood, even before they’d found out who Jiseok once was. After all, he had never been shy about anything – and she had never known how to react, not really. Part of Heejung had wanted to blush whenever he looked at her with that soft smile she only ever saw in the privacy of their apartment, and yearned to be able to help more when he clung to her after the nightmares that had him sobbing apologies to someone who was not there. At any moment, it would have been so, so easy to just— let herself accept the way Jiseok had openly, shamelessly given her his heart.
But each and every time, she had reminded herself that this was a man whose past was a mystery, someone who was alone and helpless, who trusted her with everything he had.
Now, however, it was fraught with an even more convoluted emotional snarl.
Of all the secrets that had come tumbling out that evening, the Wizard had been the one Heejung had the hardest time understanding. Or, well, trying to understand, anyway; it sounded like something straight out of one of Jiwoo’s trashy romance novels, and no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn’t reconcile the image her friends had sketched out to her of an ancient, primordial entity with the man who had somehow managed to make eggs explode the first three times he’d tried to cook.
It just. Didn’t compute.
And then there was the fact that, apparently, the Wizard had fallen in love with her.
How on Earth was she supposed to navigate that?
It felt too good to be true, the idea that the handsome stranger she’d tried to help had fallen in love with her at first sight. No, even before they’d met; that his feelings for her had been strong enough to remain even after he’d lost his immortality and power and memories, to the point where all it took was a single look for him to know that his heart would have no other, would do anything for her.
Heejung’s self-confidence wasn’t anything to sneeze at, but hearing him admit to the depth of his feelings in the safety of their apartment had still been nothing less than a gut punch.
All this time, his past had been even more of a mystery than hers, but now… despite all her hopes and fears and concerns, turns out Jiseok didn’t have any of it. Didn’t have loved ones missing him, or a family hoping he’d come home. Didn’t have a wife or girlfriend waiting for him, and all of Heejung’s past reservations were apparently all for naught because apparently, the Wizard had sacrificed just about everything he had– for her. For the opportunity to be in the same world as her, not even a guarantee, and it was just too much.
Heejung didn’t know how she felt about it, was the worst part. Well, no: she’d been struggling with a crush since the very beginning, because he was tall and handsome and so wholeheartedly devoted he’d stolen her breath away. She had no recollection of ever having a ‘type’, and everything she’d managed to dig up indicated past-her had never done anything other than work, study, and sketch, but… she felt every sign pointed to Jiseok since the very beginning. Every time he’d prepared breakfast, and asked her about her day, every time they came home from his cafe and the lightness and warmth she felt whenever she saw him only grew.
It was actually reciprocating that worried her. In theory, they were on equal footing on just about everything, but Jiseok had an innate elegance that made anything he did seem effortless and there was no way she could possibly keep up.
Not to mention that as roommates, he’d seen her– all those times she’d rolled out of bed, or covered in dust or charcoal or sweat or grime, about as unphotogenic as it got– and still somehow had feelings for her anyway.
Feelings she no longer flinched back from. It felt strange, after having danced around each other for so long.
Heejung shook her head, let out a slow breath, and finally remembered to put the vacuum cleaner away.
The party had been a success: there had been smiles and laughter, and that’s all she could ask for, really. Sure, it’d gotten a bit messy, but it was worth it because no amount of confetti would make her regret the farewell toast she’d made. Or the way she’d hugged her friends afterward.
A happy ending.
Whatever that meant, which was a heady feeling she couldn’t even begin to quantify.
She had no idea what she was doing, but then again, she wasn't alone. This was the first few steps of what would be the rest of their lives, but it was no longer the daunting task it had been a year ago.