Chapter Text
Traffic is winding down, the cars racing past dwindling, never having to stop. They’d spot a lone car every few intersections. Empty streets, no stragglers in sight, red lights for miles.
It’s just them on the sidewalk. Six shadows bouncing off the streetlights.
The thick summer heat is one step from being suffocating. Miyeon is one step closer to screaming and running home. Frankly, the breeze is doing a terrible job of blowing away the feverish haze.
She stays though, walking shoulder to shoulder, linking arms. Feeling as though she has been transported into an old black and white movie where time has stopped. Pausing only for them.
Satisfied with their lax walking pace, soaking in the evening air. Full and content. Bordering on rowdy and obnoxious.
Their spirits are high, exams having finished, everyone returning. Coming home. It goes without saying heavy burdens have been lifted from their shoulders.
Old habits never die and they lapse into the routine that was once their constant. Playful bickering, nonsensical musings leading to nowhere, only to end in uproarious fits of laughter. Under flickering yellow, their voices grow louder, reveling in this moment free of responsibility.
“We ate too much. I feel like a walking potato. A literal bowl of ramen.”
“Yuqi, if you’re a bowl of ramen, then what am I? The tonkatsu?”
“Yeah, you’re the pig, thanks for admitting to it,” replies Yuqi. The group bursts into laughter, ignoring Shuhua’s cries of protest. “Yuqi!”
“No, no. You’re a cute pig. A piglet,” pipes up Soyeon. It does little to soothe Shuhua, the tension devolving into a petty fight, miming light punches, some of them occasionally landing. Accidentally, so they claim.
After a year, Miyeon thought there would be some awkwardness. It’s a welcome surprise that there’s none.
Squabbling, crass insults. Yuqi and Shuhua being at their wit's end with each other. The older girls fanning the flames whenever another amusing argument broke out.
Miyeon doesn’t join in tonight, preferring to listen and watch.
Everything seems funnier than usual. The tiniest quips make them snicker like they were still in highschool. Rewind to this morning, in broad daylight, and they would scoff at the same lame jokes.
They’re young beneath the streetlights, returning to their invincible roots. Slipping back into their fearless personas which had been shed last summer. This is the first time in a long while with everyone together in one place.
Miyeon smiles, it’s nice to see everyone. It’s even better to see they’re all doing well. They've all grown in plenty of ways.
Bittersweet tinges dipped into her heart earlier. Jokes don’t dominate anymore; moments of soberness and clarity slide into their conversations as if they’ve always belonged.
Realization doesn’t have to strike her in the cheek. It sinks in, drowning. Drowning slowly, a smooth caress telling her it’s okay. They’ve all grown up, having reached the end of their youthful innocence. Aware of the explosions on TV. The empty bellies in the city.
Explosions and empty bellies. Not only is she childish, she’s a sentimental poet as well. Who describes adulthood in that way, opening the floodgates to purple prose? It must be the night air going to her head.
Excessive reminiscing aside, she has also come to understand these moments are rare. Fleeting. She should enjoy them to the fullest and do what would terrify her before.
Say everything she wants to say. Everything that has been hidden for far too long, fluttering and bounding, no longer wanting to be caged.
“Your shoelaces are untied.” Shuhua nudges an elbow into her side, pointing, stopping in her tracks. Miyeon drops down on one knee.
“Oh. Thanks.”
The chatter and hooting softens, the group moving on without them. Knowing they’ll catch up soon enough. The two of them are lagging behind, but Shuhua waits for her. Ever so patiently.
A strong gust of wind blows, raising the hair on her arms. The deafening buzz of an engine closes the door to the caged butterfly. She swallows whatever she was going to say.
“Oh my god, it’s the bus!” yells Minnie. The girl pulls, dragging Soojin along who groans softly, but runs anyway. Feet picking up, pounding on the pavement.
“You can’t beat me slowpokes!” shouts Yuqi, sprinting. Turning everything into a competition. Soyeon is hot on Yuqi’s heels, arms stretched out behind her, imitating the characters from her favorite show to cackling approval.
The bus is already way ahead, but it’s always possible that the driver would stop for them.
Shuhua runs too. “Miyeon, hurry up!”
Fingers threading through, fumbling, tying those pesky laces. Light, nimble, and quick are not the words to describe how Miyeon moves.
The others are all in the distance, seconds from the bus stop. Except for the one girl who has claimed a home within her thoughts. Grumpy-faced, running back to her. Hand extended.
Maybe it’s not so bad if she misses the last bus.