Chapter Text
Plodding downstairs with a suppressed yawn, Mina greets her mom and pulls a seat at their breakfast table for four. Still fighting off the morning grogginess, she glances around, realizing her sister is nowhere to be seen.
That’s odd. I swear I saw her door was open. The light was off though.
“Where’s Nee-san?”
She can’t have gone to school already—she’s never out of the house earlier than Mina. They always walk to school together even when the older girl has student council meetings (Mina will have to attend those soon too, if she gets voted in) because Mina’s studious enough to want to go to class early, while her sister is the exact opposite.
Actually, more often than not, their mom would have to tell Mina to head back upstairs and wake her for breakfast. After much grumbling and some sneaky cuddles with Mina protesting the whole way, they’d finally make it downstairs, grab a light breakfast, and off to school they’d go. The trek is just a little too far for walking distance and increases the risk of them arriving late (sometimes Mina ends up on the back of her sister’s bike as the latter pedals at godspeed because they are late), but Mina enjoys their little heart-to-hearts along the way.
The thought brings a smile to her face. (She won’t admit it out loud though—as far as the other girl’s aware, Mina is still angry about the little nick in her perfect attendance from that one late morning. It makes for good blackmail material when Mina wants some extra attention or ice cream.)
“Who?” Her dad calls out from the couch, almost as if he was waiting for Mina to say something. She drives the thought to the back of her skull.
The corners of her lips fall, and Mina frowns, “What do you me—”
“Dear.” Her mom sends her dad a warning look. Appearing nearby, she’s gripping the kitchen towel they use to wipe the table, it’s not wet, and her knuckles are white.
He seems to get it after that, because he pauses for a split second before saying, “Oh that dy—“
“Dear!”
“Where is she?”
Her mom turns to her with sad eyes, teeming with apologies for something Mina isn’t aware of yet.
“She’s gone. Not coming back.” Her dad cuts in instead. He doesn’t even look at her, just keeps skimming his newspaper from his place on the couch. She doesn’t step closer to him either.
“Gone where?”
“Somewhere.”
“Why? What for?” Mina can’t tell if this is a joke, a surprise, or something else entirely.
“No idea. But she doesn’t need us. Said so herself.”
This immediately cancels out any positive outcome Mina comes up with for this situation. A lump grows in the back of her throat and it’s the same kind of lump that grows at funerals, a tumor that replaces the loss of a dear friend or family. Mina hasn’t lost anyone to death. But with the dread she’s facing upon realization of what this really means, she might as well have. “She wouldn’t say that.”
He snorts and when he finally meets her eyes, Mina feels a icicle stab through her chest, slowly filling her ribcage with something solid and heavy and irreversible. Something like mercury. “Except she did.”
And from that day on, Mina didn’t have an older sister anymore.
---
The air is colder in Korea, is the first thought that runs through Mina’s head when she steps out of the airport. Her breath puffs out in white tendrils as Mina burrows her face further in her scarf.
Her sister always had a passion for everything she did, a burning wild drive that made her both likeable and formidable. Mina’s like her in that way, she supposes. Except her own passion is of a much more subtle kind, a steady simmer that neither fades nor grows. But it’s a passion nonetheless, if her eleven years of ballet have anything to say about it.
And it’s this very drive that brings Mina to Seoul, having pursued a degree in both Marketing and International Business, she landed a job as a Marketing Manager straight out of college for a Japanese firm that was hired to design some ads and run a campaign by a bigger Korean company. Hence, the current trip. It’s her first large-scale project and Mina is a little anxious, yet very eager to prove herself.
“You’re the smartest person I know. If you can’t do it, then I have no idea who can!”
She can do this. There’s nothing to be scared of.
“Mitan~ The little penguin that could~”
Mina flags down the next taxi and smiles despite herself. Sets her carrier in the trunk as she climbs in the front. She can do this. Mina can move forward.
And someday she’ll be able to without the need of reassurances from ghosts of the past.
---
No. No way, no fucking—The world is messing with her. How else would it explain the woman standing in front of Mina now, having taken the liberty of walking up to her as the latter froze stiff as a board in the cafe’s entrance.
“Hello, Myoui Mina-san.” Her hair is dyed burgundy, long and straight, body donned in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt. She bows and Mina scrambles to follow suit in blind habit. “I’m Minatozaki Sana. I’ll be working with you in regards to this project. I hope we’ll get along.”
When she straightens up again, the smirk is the same as Mina remembers, the cheeks are a bit less chubby and her face seems to have grown more mature, stature a little taller, but there’s no mistaking her eyes. Always so focused and attentive, like she’s hanging off every word you’re saying. A lot of boys fell for that gaze. They got their hearts broken every time.
Mina feels like puking.
Sana-neesan.
---
They’re okay, civil even. The conversation carries on almost automatically once they’re seated at the booth (Mina shoving down the need to excuse herself and dry heave) and Mina finally manages to introduce herself in the manner she’s rehearsed a million times before. They swap the customary business cards.
“So Myoui-san, are you enjoying your stay in Korea?”
Myoui-san. Right. Because Sana isn’t a Myoui. She’s a Minatozaki. The card says so.
Sana’s speaking in Japanese to accommodate for Mina. Mina responds in Korean, “Yes Minatozaki-ssi. Korea is very pretty, though it’s a bit colder than Japan.”
God why didn’t anyone tell her who the representative was going to be? Mina has half a mind to scroll through her thousands of emails in her inbox just to find proof that she wasn’t informed then get HR to fire whoever didn’t inform her. Realistically, she knows she won’t do this though. Sana’s voice brings her mind back into the fray—she still sounds the exact same.
“Is it? It’s been a while since I’ve been to Japan.”
Eight years. Mina clears her throat as if to cover her thoughts. “I believe so.”
Are they just supposed to act like they’ve never met? Never spent half their lives together and never dropped out of each other’s world’s like Mina wasn’t hit by an entire bus the morning it all ended? Smacked in the face by every passenger and run over by all four wheels?
“It is pretty cold over here I suppose. Many of our clients from overseas say so, but I guess I’m used to the weather.”
Well. At least one of them is doing a good at acting. Sad it’s not Mina.
She nods, “Your company is doing well isn’t it? That’s part of the reason for this campaign?”
“Ah yes!” And Sana goes on to explain how lucky they’ve been with their last line of products, how they have enough resources to expand internationally now, which has been their long-term goal for a while. Of course it is, Sana’s company isn’t a conglomerate but it’s practically becoming a monopoly at this rate. It doesn’t upset Mina that Sana’s doing well. But it might irk her a little that Sana’s currently ahead of Mina.
But if they’re expanding...Mina takes the leap, switching back to Japanese subconsciously. “Maybe if you visit Japan sometime, I can show you around Tokyo. You’ve never been there right?”
Sana pauses at this, the previous excitement fades entirely from her face and Mina waits with bated breath, gripping the fabric of her slacks under the table. She’s not offering anything weird by any means, it’s just a kind gesture—nothing more. Then why does she feel like she’s drowning in the thick dread associated with making a mistake?
“I think you’re...confused.”
“About what?” Mina almost trips over the words in her hurry to say something and Sana leans forward, elbows propped on the edge of the table. How long has it been since Mina’s sat face to face with her sister? Last time they shared breakfast across the table?
“I’ll just say this now. We’re not sisters or friends or anything of the sort. This conversation—” She gestures between them. “—It’s just business. I’m not here to catch up.”
Mina’s lips purse. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Are you sure?” Sana’s always been able to read her like a book. Always been so straightforward. Mina never liked to talk much, so she always had to if she wanted to figure out what Mina wanted to say. It used to make her feel safe, understood. Now she just shifts in her seat.
“If you don’t want to, then I won’t.” It’s out before she even realizes she let them slip. Sana barks a sudden laugh.
“Right. Still following me like old times huh?”
The words kindle a heat that builds up her neck and face, fiery and consuming. Her defenses rise along with Sana’s smirk. “I don’t just follow you around.”
“You joined student council after me.”
“They needed a secretary, I was nominated.”
“You started ballet because of me, though I don’t know if you quit.”
(“Why do you think I started taking dance lessons?” Sana throws the question her way on their walk home after finishing club activities. It’s a hot day, almost summer break, and Sana had insisted on grabbing a few popsicles before heading back to the house.
A younger, more naive Mina frowns. That’s an odd question. “Because you love dancing?”
“No, silly~” Sana waves her popsicle at her, beaming like she has a secret that she’s been dying to tell Mina her whole life. Mina just never asked. “Because you love dancing.”)
“...I haven’t.”
Sana smiles almost triumphantly now and the whistling sensation in Mina’s chest cavity is painfully distracting.
“You want me to come back.”
That—Mina sucks in a deep breath and licks her lips, looking somewhere—anywhere except Sana’s face. Then she finally notices the décor of the café, and the gigantic face of the clock taking up the entire far wall seems to mock her. “I never said that.”
“And yet you never even looked for me, am I right?” Sana shakes her head when Mina mouth drops open, cutting her off before any excuses can come flying out. “It’s okay I don’t blame you. You’ve always just accepted what happened around you, so it was wrong of me to expect anything else.” She shrugs. Like she didn’t just jab Mina in the gut.
“You’re the one that left without a single word.” Mina tries—she really does—not to let the irritation seep into her voice. It hurts, it physically pains her somewhere inside her adam’s apple to continue speaking, an itch she can’t soothe, so she doesn’t. And neither does Sana. A few moments pass, Mina sighs and tries to let up the tension in her shoulders. It only seems to get tighter. Like a noose around her neck. “...Why did you leave?”
Another shrug.
“Sana.”
“Just felt like it.”
“Bullshit.”
Sana’s eyes widen comically, then upturn into crescents and she giggles. “Wow you’re cussing now? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you cuss before~”
She’s still doing it. Mina may be Sana’s younger sister but she doesn’t need to keep treating her like she doesn’t know as well as Sana does. Sana doesn’t always know better.
“Give or take eight years and people will change.” Doesn’t even bother to control her tone anymore. Mina is bitter. Why shouldn’t she be? “Why are you even trying to be cool? Wait, I know, it’s your defense mechanism. Pretending everything’s okay.”
Sana’s eyes narrow and Mina feels sudden guilt chill her spine. Cold spreads all the way to her fingertips and quells every other sensation. Oh god, what is she trying to do?
“S-Sorry.”
Whatever it is, this is not the way to go about it. Sana is their client’s representative, and an important one at that. It’s the only reason they’re meeting now and Mina is a professional, not some child. She can’t fuck this up. Shouldn’t fuck this up.
“I apologize for my behavior. Please forget this ever happened.”
Sana makes a small noise in her throat like a scoff. Crosses her arms. Wraps them around herself.
No. The gesture is strikingly obvious. A defensive pose. An effort at protection. Something she’s used to seeing whenever Sana gets frightened but never directed at her. Sana’s arms were always open for Mina.
Sana shouldn’t have to protect herself from Mina. That’s just...sad.
“And what if I say no?”
Mina immediately stands and moves out of the booth, bending exactly ninety degrees with eyelids clenched shut. “Please do. My actions don’t reflect my company.”
Please please please don’t go—
“...Fine.”
She mutters a thank you and bows once again before sitting, tries not to let out a sigh when Sana averts her gaze.
This project is going to be a tough one—for them both.
---
Mina heads straight for her nightstand when she gets back to her room, the mental image of her destination already clear in her mind since over an hour ago. Briefcase dropped, laptop and documents spilling she dashes like a madman for her drawer. Slamming it open so hard the wood rebounds back into her hand leaving a dull ache, Mina’s fingers angrily grasp for the bottle she takes with her everywhere. It’s been a few years since she’s needed it. But she keeps it around for those days. Day like these.
Popping a couple pills back dry, the scratchiness in her throat almost makes her regret it as she sinks in relief onto the bed, an arm thrown over her eyes. The kimbap in the plastic bag lies forgotten on the desk for the rest of the night.
“God...dammit.”
---
They meet several more times to discuss the project and the project only, strictly professional. Long hours spent at a cafe with several cups of coffee—sometimes without because they’re too busy debating ideas and deadlines and the like to remember. At the end of it all, Mina trudges back to her hotel more drained mentally (and emotionally) than physically. Though she would be lying if she said she wasn’t fine with the current workload.
Work has consistently been Mina’s coping mechanism—her escape—since her school days, be it assignments or research, reports or presentations or just arguing with her superiors for a longer deadline because half her team is dead and no one’s left the office for three days. Coffee shop meetings are inherently no different, and most days she’s even more focused than the other girl, almost prides herself on it and feels natural throwing herself into the job to forget everything else, yet just this once, there’s a small kink in her diaphragm.
There’s nothing wrong with working with Sana-nee—Minatoza—Sana-ssi. There really isn’t. She’s really good at her job, compromising, inspiring even, and very patient. They work together well, and Mina tells herself it’s not because she knows some of Sana’s habits already and vice versa. She tries not to feel anything when Sana gets up (Mina assumes it’s to use the restroom) only to come back with two coffees in hand. She hadn’t even noticed she finished her cup already and god knows she needs to perpetually consume caffeine lest she fall pass out on her keyboard, so Mina thanks her in a daze. She shouldn’t be so surprised by a kind gesture but her brain stops working as soon as she takes a sip. Americano. Her favorite.
“I miss Doutonbori.” Sana suddenly speaks while Mina’s busy emailing her colleagues updates. They’ve already finished the sketches for the first set of designs and she’s sending the feedback Sana gave her directly without consulting anyone—because Sana’s the marketing director and she has the authority to do that. In any case, the concept’s a little off, but nothing they can’t fix. “I wonder if anything’s different.”
Part of Mina recognizes that Sana’s just trying to make small talk about something that’s not migraine-inducing, and then the other part recalls the fact that Sana has a tendency to become whiny and distracted after long hours of focusing on one thing.
She did love to drag me shopping all the time.
“It hasn’t changed much over the years. If anything, Osaka has just grown livelier.” Mina shrugs, still scrolling through her inbox. She has to suppress a yawn from escaping and pinches the bridge of her nose. There’s been a growing ache there since a few hours ago, but they’re almost done. She can’t afford to relax now.
“Right, Osaka. How is it?”
“Wouldn’t you know? You’re from there.” Mina lets slip without thinking. Eyes widening a second later, she apologizes, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” She didn’t mean to what? Why does she keep making these mistakes?
Sana sighs and plays with one of the strands of her hair - another small habit of hers. “It’s fine. We’re probably not going to make much progress if you’re too hung up about the past.”
...Oh I’M too hung up about the past?
Wow Sana sure doesn’t seem to care how Mina’s been all these years. The bitterness rises again and she swallows thickly in an effort to force it down. Some toxic, simmering acid sits just under the surface of whatever relationship they have and if left be it’ll just poison the entire project until it goes right down the drain. The question is how to fix it.
“So if you have questions you can ask them. I’ll answer them to the best of my ability.” Sana offers a tired smile, tapping her nails on the table. It might make things worse, if they actually talk about it, but Mina’s willing to take the risk. She’ll finally get some answers, right?
Gingerly, she closes her laptop lid. “How did you...manage all these years?”
“I stayed with a friend.”
Obviously. But it doesn’t count as an answer if it’s just her speculations.
“To be honest...if her family didn’t take me in I probably wouldn’t have made it. They definitely did much more for me than was really necessary, I’m really grateful to them.”
Mina had feared that as well. But that’s not what she’s worried about now. The younger of the two frowns, “...Who did you stay with?”
“You remember Momo?”
Ah. The first person Mina went to when Sana disappeared. “Yeah sort of.”
Sana nods. “Her family took me in and treated me like their own. I um...transferred schools and Momo went with me even though I told her she really shouldn’t, really didn’t need to, but she was very adamant. I couldn’t sway her in the end.” She gives a chuckle.
You didn’t give me a chance to convince you... Fuck her. Fuck Hirai Momo. She didn’t tell Mina squat. “I see…" That’s why Momo transferred out. That little liar. And here Mina had thought Momo to be the aloof, sweet, couldn’t-lie-to-save-her-life type. She should’ve known. “Is she well?”
Sana nods, “Yeah, we’ve kept in touch. She’s working in Kyoto.”
They kept in touch.
“Anyways I think that’s enough for now, it’s getting late we should probably start.”
“Eh?”
“Let’s get back to work, shall we?” She’s looking at her like that again, with that gaze—like a pistol pressed into the small of her back and Mina agrees without much protest.
“I mean, uh, sure.” The abrupt end to that line of conversation takes Mina aback. Surely Sana doesn’t think that level of clarity is enough to satisfy her? Not by a long shot. But Mina refuses to be the one to pry.
She shifts in her seat, back a little straighter. A few seconds is all it takes to switch her mindset and as soon as she does, she fixes her gaze on Sana and nods once. Mina’s ready.
But Sana doesn’t move.
“Sana-ssi?” Mina calls after a few seconds, noting the furrow in Sana’s brow.
Sana jolts a little before sending her a wide smile that is equal parts blinding as disturbing. “Yes, of course, let’s get to work.”
---
A vibration in her pocket snaps Mina out of her stupor. They’re not meeting today, and Mina can’t find it in herself to leave her room or even get dressed properly. Remaining in her pajamas and the complimentary robe (which is fluffier than she’d expect), she ends up spending the whole day at her desk and it’s already evening by the time she checks the hour. Crawling out of the office chair the hotel provides, she flops on the bed to answer the phone. “Hello?”
.
.
.
“Hai I understand. I should be back by tomorrow then. I just need to book a flight. Hai, thank you.”
I should send an email to Sana. Is Mina’s immediate thought as she ends the call.
She sits up and slips her laptop out of her bag.
Dear Sana-ssi,
Hello, I’m sorry for the late notice, but I have just been told to return to Japan as soon as possible. Something has come up on my end and it seems we will have to put our meetings on hold for a few days. Feel free to contact me if you need anything. I’m not yet sure how long of an absence it will be, but I will keep you updated. I apologize again for the inconvenience.
Myoui Mina
Marketing Manager
XXX Inc.
xxx-xxx-xxx
Mina proofreads it three times, changing a few words here and there to make it more professional before she forces herself to hit send. Not one minute passes and she hasn’t moved from her spot when her phone rings again.
Minatozaki Sana-ssi - the caller ID reads.
Mina pauses, then scrambles to answer. “...Hello?”
“You’re going back to Japan?!”
Her voice is a little loud and Mina winces. “Yes, something came up. I’ll likely be gone for a few days to a week. I’m sorry we have to put the project on hold.”
“Don’t worry about it! We’re already ahead, so a few days off won’t make much of a difference.”
“You can email me any details, I’ll likely work on what I can while I’m gone anyways.”
“I’m not going to let you work on it by yourself.” She sounds indignant.
“Why not? We can get more done that way. And it’s not like I’m finishing the entire thing.” Mina can hear Sana sigh on the other end.
“Mina...group projects are group projects you know? Stop trying to do it all on your own.”
Mina taps at a key on her laptop. A moment passes before she can come with an appropriate response. “Okay I understand. I won’t work on the project.” Much.
“Atta girl.”
She rolls her eyes but can’t stop her features from cracking in a smile. “Yeah okay. Anyways I have to go soon. I need to book a flight, preferably as soon as I can.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll uh leave you to it then.”
In the back of her mind, Mina had thought Sana might ask to keep talking even as she booked the flight. She nods even if Sana can’t see it. “I’ll talk to you later?”
“Yes! I’ll be here when you get back.”
Mina giggles silently. Since when is Korea ‘back’? “Then I’ll see you then.”
“Yeah...Take care Mina.”
“You too.”
“I...Goodnight.” Sana hangs up first.
Mina lets out a sigh and falls back on the bed, heart swimming with mixed emotions the happier of which include contentment, the sadder maybe something like regret. A spot in the middle of her spine won’t stop throbbing and the backs of Mina’s eyes sting terribly as she rolls onto her side.
If they had said goodbye eight years ago, would it have felt like this?