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When Asa checks in her luggage at the counter, she is informed apologetically by the airline staff that the flight has been delayed. For just about an hour, or less, the pleasant girl who returns her boarding pass after stamping it assures her, and she can’t bring herself to be annoyed at her.
She slings her carry-on over one shoulder and looks around for a place nearby to sit. At the hour of 1 AM, the airport is relatively empty and most of the people around, her fellow passengers presumably, are sitting or sprawled quietly on chairs beside trolleys of their baggage, dozing or using their phones.
Which reminds Asa that she needs to check whether Rora has called or texted her one last time before boarding the plane. Distracted by the thought, she doesn’t bother looking for a spacious area away from others as she usually would. She sets her duffel bag down a few steps away, and sits down beside it, digging her phone out of her back pocket.
It’s only after she’s found no texts from Rora, only one from her parents wishing her a safe flight, that she realises she’s sitting opposite someone. The seats on her left and right are empty, but still. It feels like when it’s really congested in the train and she’s stranded unintentionally staring at the passenger opposite her when she’s just trying to look straight ahead. It’s a little too close for her comfort to a stranger, and she would have moved a few seats away if it might not come across as rude. At least the person isn’t male.
The woman seems to sense her attention, looking up. When she raises her face from her phone Asa guesses that they’re around the same age. The other young woman is dressed in casual, comfortable clothes — not nearly sweats but worn, distressed ripped jeans and an unbuttoned stylish jacket over a cute tee.
She smiles slightly, surprising Asa. It’s a polite, friendly smile, the flash of her teeth Asa catches toothpaste-commercial white. Flustered, she hastily bares her own teeth in a probably much more awkward answering smile, and clears her throat, looking back down at her own phone.
She scrolls through her messages for awhile more, re-reading old ones from Rora. The last message is from her, read but unreplied. It simply contains her flight date and time. She wonders, for the umpteenth time, if she will see Rora waiting outside Arrivals, looking pretty and missed, and what it will mean.
Lost in thought, she doesn’t notice the kid, a little girl of about four or five, careening towards her. She bumps into her hands and knees, making her gasp and the phone fall from her hands to the ground.
The child’s mother immediately rushes up, apologising profusely to Asa and making the girl bow to her too. Embarrassed at her hisses to “Say sorry to unnie!” Asa hurriedly assures them that it doesn’t matter and awkwardly ruffles the girl’s hair to show there are no hard feelings.
In the small commotion, she hasn’t picked up her phone yet. But as the mother departs with her kid in tow, she is startled once again by a hand forestalling her as she reaches for her phone on the sterile floor of the airport.
A soft-looking hand, tapering up to a delicate wrist, offers her her fallen cell. Asa looks up, eyes wide, to see the woman sitting opposite her leaning forward, eyes warm despite her quietness. The woman is wearing some sort of colourful braided bracelet, rugged as if travel-worn.
Asa takes her phone from the outstretched palm, coughs and unthinkingly thanks her in Japanese.
“Don’t mention it,” comes the reply. Then a surprising addition: “You play the guitar?”
When she looks up to study the woman, the other is the one blushing at her own forwardness. “I’m sorry, I couldn't help but notice the calluses on your hand.”
Asa hadn’t even realised the woman was so observant. And now, freely admitting it with more bravery than Asa. Something about this, and the gentle, mild-mannered demeanor of the woman makes her want to ease her discomfort.
“It’s all right. Yes, I do.
“You too?” she asks, surprising herself, when the woman just nods quietly at her answer without any further sign of wanting to extend the conversation.
The other smiles then, again, looking pleasantly surprised. “Just as a hobby.” She shoots a lopsided, wry smile at Asa, somehow winsome and modest at the same time.
Asa nods seriously, and this time it’s her turn to be caught off guard when the stranger tacks on easily, “I’m Jung Ahyeon, by the way.”
“Oh — uh, Enami Asa. It’s nice to meet you.” Asa hesitantly extends a hand again, and the palm she had grazed before while taking her phone from Ahyeon’s hand envelopes her this time, warm and smooth, steady.
After a little more stilted banter in which they established they’re both waiting for the same flight, Asa pulls up the cuff of her black sweatshirt again to check her watch. The exquisite wristwatch was given to her by Rora, which makes her remember her every time she checks the time.
“Forty minutes more,” Ahyeon’s voice drifts to her, making Rora leave her head. She sighs, looking tired for the first time as Asa registers her, now free to stare from opposite. “Time passes more slowly in airports.”
“Is that so?” Asa counters pleasantly, now not so aware of their exchange of queries and responses. Around them, strangers are starting to strike up conversations with their seat partners too, simply on the basis that they are passengers on the same flight stuck in the same delay. People are bonding over topics of families; business; holidays — but Asa looks at Ahyeon and doesn’t see much they have in common… or anything, really. She's pretty sure Ahyeon isn't Japanese despite her fluency speaking the language, considering her name and slight, charming accent.
Ahyeon bobs her head in answer to her question. “Sometimes, I guess. When one’s flight is delayed. But if you’re here with someone —“
She trails off, eyes looking distant, and Asa wonders who she’s thinking of, if she is flying away or towards a boyfriend or partner like Asa. She kind of understands Ahyeon’s meaning, because when they were college freshmen, the airport was a place she often came with Rora to study all night. It was perfect because it was deserted and quiet, and they could make out when they got bored of cramming and exhausted, needing each other’s lips to wake them up.
She hadn’t come here to study since Rora left for Japan to pursue her accelerated post-graduate degree. It wasn’t any fun coming alone, just felt lonely.
Now, though, she finds herself not feeling lonely or even thinking of those heated study sessions; because of Ahyeon’s company. Asa is glad she accidentally decided to sit down opposite Ahyeon. Otherwise, they might never have met in the waiting lounge full of strangers.
Since it feels inappropriately early to ask the qustion in her mind, whether Ahyeon is single, Asa asks another.
“Where are you from?”
“I’m Korean. But a long time ago… home was Japan.” She smiles sheepishly at Asa. “And… you? Are you heading for Japan for business or pleasure… or do you live there?”
“My… partner is studying there.” It seems the topic came up anyway, despite her attempt to avoid it.
“Ah. Wow, we’re pretty similar.”
“… You’re going to visit someone too?”
Ahyeon nods, red creeping up her ears. “Er… kind of. But I can’t exactly call that person my partner yet. Someone… I’ve been chasing after for a long time, I guess you can say.”
Asa gazes at Ahyeon with renewed curiosity. She wouldn’t have pegged her for the sort of girl who pursued a crush for a long time, determined and steadfast. But she supposes she knows nothing about Ahyeon after all.
“Good luck,” Asa says, smiling at her relaxedly for the first time. “Your crush… is lucky.”
Ahyeon’s eyes widen at this, making Asa notice how pretty they are — no, besides Rora, she's never thought a woman’s eyes as pretty. But Ahyeon’s are beautiful, hooded and almond-shaped. She meant it when she said her crush is lucky — not just in the physical sense, but she can already tell Ahyeon is a laidback, immaculate kind of lady.
“Thanks,” Ahyeon mumbles, awkwardly shy again at Asa’s compliment. “Your lover is very fortunate too.”
“How old are you?” Asa blurts out apropos of nothing, to change the subject. Even though she feels at ease with Ahyeon now, she never expected to discuss her relationship with a stranger in the boarding hall. Belatedly, she realises her question sounded slightly brusque and she probably should have prefaced it with a polite If you don’t mind.
But Ahyeon doesn’t seem to mind, candidly replying with a smile, “I just turned twenty-five, Korean age. What about you?”
Asa swallows her surprise. “I’ll be twenty-six in a few months.”
Ahyeon regards her with open wonder. “Who would’ve guessed you were older than me?” Asa is taken aback by the playful glint in her eye.
Ahyeon looks at her, and Asa suddenly feels shy in her sloppy hooded sweatshirt and matching pants, her flightwear.
She notices a few frazzled parents heading for a cappucino machine on a counter by the wall to get paper cups of coffee. Clearing her throat, she gets to her feet stiffly and stretches her arms.
“Restroom?” Ahyeon guesses, looking up at her, and Asa shakes her head, inclining it in the direction of the machine.
“Coffee. You want a cup?”
Ahyeon raises her eyebrows at the small gaggle of people queuing up to get their post-midnight dose of caffeine.
“Yeah, I’m thirsty, actually. Thanks.”
It’s only as she's walking to join the queue that Asa realises her own throat is parched too. She’s not used to having long conversations, even with Rora. And she definitely wasn’t expecting to have one tonight. They had talked about a wide array of topics while killing time, even though she usually isn’t exactly a talker herself. It must be something about the anonymity of the airport, the silence of the pitch dark outside the windows broken only by airplane lights, the sheer boredom of the endless wait, the mutual curiosity of their first unpredicted meeting. Talking to Ahyeon is easy, almost unnoticeably so. She checks her watch again; another half an hour had passed almost effortlessly while they were chatting.
She realises that she forgot to ask Ahyeon what kind of coffee she would like when she arrives at her turn. She hadn’t known there was more than one type. Making a spontaneous decision, she decides that Ahyeon looks like a latte kind of person. Asa carefully totes the paper cups in both hands as she walks back to where Ahyeon is waiting beside her bag — she had migrated to sit next to it somewhere at the start of their conversation, it being difficult to crane their bodies forward to speak to each other; and now they’re not exactly sitting beside each other but with Asa’s bag between them, a comfortable length away.
Ahyeon smiles and accepts the hot cup from her, their fingers brushing again. Ahyeon’s are cool now, probably from the air-conditioning. It’s pretty cold in here; Asa wonders if Ahyeon has extra warm clothing in her backpack.
“Thank you, Asa-san.”
“Just call me Asa,” Asa blurts out, somewhat uncomfortable with the formality.
“Asa,” Ahyeon echoes obediently, only her bright eyes visible above the mouth of the cup she's sipping.
She takes a sip of her own cup after sitting down, not looking at Ahyeon for the first time but surveying their surroundings, the staff doing their last preparations before they open the boarding gates, parents starting to stuff toys and warm clothing back into bags in anticipation of being called first.
“It’s pretty good,” Ahyeon says, bringing her attention back to her.
“Uh-huh.” Asa takes another gulp. Ahyeon seems to like the latte she got her.
Ahyeon finishes up her cup and crumples the paper up. “No, no.” She waves Asa off when she tries to get up and take it from her hands to help them both dispose it. “Let me go this time. I need to stretch my legs too. I think the plane will be open soon.”
Asa is surprised to feel a pang of disappointment at her words, even though she already knew the hour that had felt so long and so short at the same time is coming to an end. After they board the plane, Ahyeon will be sitting far away from her, and she will be sitting beside another stranger who she already knows will not be as comfortable company as Ahyeon. She didn’t even ask which class Ahyeon’s ticket is in.
Asa watches Ahyeon walk towards the rubbish bin. She has a curvy and good figure, giving an impression of softness like everything else about her aura, visible even beneath the baggy clothes. But she moves with a loping grace that makes Asa want to ask if she's an athlete, or a dancer, or something. Also, Asa isn’t used to noticing girls’ looks, but she can’t help having realised in the past hour that Ahyeon is extraordinarily good-looking. She could even be a model or an actress, one of those idols Rora used to go crazy about back when they were teenagers. Even in the state of dishevelment they’re both in from the wait in the cramped space, Ahyeon’s long silky hair is gorgeously tousled and her caramel skin looks flawless, glowing.
Realising she's staring, Asa quickly shifts her gaze back to the boarding gate before Ahyeon arrives. She sits down beside her backpack which she had left on the seat beside Asa’s bag, seeming to trust Asa to help her take care of it and not to rob her. The row of seats dips slightly under her weight. Asa hears a soft sigh from her direction.
“I’m going to the restroom before they call us,” Ahyeon says, and when Asa turns she's giving her a half-smile. She picks up her fashionable backpack and slings it over her shoulders, explaining, “I think they might let you in before I get back.” Sure enough, the children, sick and handicapped have already boarded and the staff are starting to announce the next group of passengers over the PA system.
“I could wait,” Asa blurts out, not understanding why she feels so lost at the thought of this being her abrupt separation from Ahyeon. They’re never going to see each other again — it’s unlikely they’ll bump accidentally again in the luggage collection crowd at Narita.
Ahyeon shakes her head, smiling. “You go ahead in first,” she says, gently. “It’s been a long night.”
Asa just sits there, rooted to her seat and not knowing what to say or do as a parting shot — should she pretend she needs to go to the toilet too? No, that’s too obvious — when Ahyeon turns around and adds, with her trademark understated, placid gentility, “And Asa — I had fun talking to you.”
* * *
After she uses the facilities, Ahyeon washes her hands and bends to splash water on her face, running a comb through her locks. It’s cool, bracing, making her feel wide awake. It isn’t as if she needs it, because she already doesn’t feel sleepy at all after talking to Asa.
It'd been a good conversation, one of the best Ahyeon’s ever had in her life if she's being honest. And she'd certainly never expected to find it in an airport lounge while waiting for a delayed plane to Tokyo. With a total stranger.
She supposes she has Chiquita to thank for that — if it wasn’t for what she had vowed to herself in her effort to try hard to prove to her she could be open to opportunities too, she would never have been courageous enough to strike up a conversation with the chic, intimidating-looking young woman sitting opposite her. At first, she had been worried that Asa had some important business to conduct on her phone, or a vital conversation she was in the middle of with her boyfriend, considering how intently she was staring at it after Ahyeon caught her staring at her the first time. But Asa had turned out to be a pretty chill and relaxed kind of girl, someone obviously intelligent and compassionate, quiet but observant and thoughtful.
Ahyeon usually doesn’t have much to talk about with random strangers at first encounter, but she had found conversation with Asa easy and compelling. It was a welcome respite, because she also managed to empty her head and stop thinking about Chiquita for a short while.
Before she arrived at the airport, she had expected to spend the entire plane journey dwelling on Chiquita — her little chilli pepper, as she likes to affectionately call her in her head. She’s like a firecracker, red hot and bursting with life. It was why Ahyeon had been uncontrollably drawn to her in the foreign language club in university and never managed to fall in love with another girl.
And now, here she is — flying from Seoul to Tokyo in a foolhardy, stupidly foolish trip to chase after her like a lovesick puppy, Chiquita who had flew to Japan without a second thought of Ahyeon and only a short, breezy message saying goodbye, to pursue her dream of becoming a diplomat.
And Ahyeon has no doubt she will succeed. As the years pass, Chiquita will only climb higher and higher up from the time they were equals as university mates (she was even a little more senior than her, being an upperclasswoman), getting further and further away from her in both distance and status. Ahyeon never thought she would be the kind of girl to fall for someone so hopelessly unattainable. But she just can’t forget Chiquita.
She still dreams of the afternoon she kissed her, in the empty club room at university, after the rest of their fellow members had dismissed. Chiquita asked her to stay back to help her with her treasurer duties, and when Ahyeon bent over to help her calculate a sum on the calculator, she grabbed her collar and hauled her over the table, kissing her.
Needless to say, after that day, Ahyeon was smitten and infatuated. Chiquita reluctantly agreed to go on a few dates with her, but then the spark sort of fizzled out and she heard of her being spotted with others. And then, after Chiquita's last year of university, when Ahyeon was only one year into the workforce and adult world, she texted Ahyeon to say she was going to Japan.
When are you coming back to Korea? Ahyeon sent back with shaking fingers, afraid to ask what was really in her mind. Will you be coming back?
I don’t know, Chiquita replied vaguely. She said her course there would take at least a few years — and then, Ahyeon realised, there was no promise she would be making her home in Seoul. She could go back to Thailand, or remain in Japan where she knew she had family and friends — she could settle down anywhere in the world, or jetset all over it while Ahyeon remained in her boring job in Seoul. The common memories they had shared and exchanged in those unforgettable club sessions, of her helping Chiquita acclimatise as a foreigner in a new, daunting country, would remain nothing but that — memories in the past.
So for the first time in her life, Ahyeon had decided to be the kind of girl Chiquita would be bowled over by. She would be fearless and adventurous, flying across cities and countries to sweep her off her feet, give her a romantic surprise. That’s what girls like… right?
If she wouldn’t come back to where she was… then she would go to her.
She had booked her plane ticket on this impulsive whim, adrenaline and frustration licking through her veins. Now, she hears the final boarding announcement muffled through the walls and stares at herself in the spotless mirror of the empty restroom, wondering if she made the right choice.
Well, at least — if nothing else is to be gained on this trip — at least she met Asa.
She’s one of the last few passengers to board the plane, and she joins the tail end of the line. The pleasant girl at the check-in counter who had apologised so politely about the delay almost two hours ago gives her another bright smile and apologises again. Flustered, Ahyeon waves her courtesies away and tells her she didn’t mind waiting.
It’s true.
Everyone in Economy is already settled into their seats, looking winded from the delay and already half-asleep despite the plane not having taken off yet. Ahyeon double-checks her seat number and finds her way down the aisle.
She stifles a gasp when she sees the back of a strikingly familiar messy bun and height, in the aisle seat of a row of two window seats. The window seat is empty, the only empty seat around. Ahyeon checks her ticket again, then moves closer to peek at the front view of the passenger, who has her headphones wrapped around her ears, and is listening to music on her phone before they take off.
She’s sitting beside Asa.
“Ahyeon-ssi?” Asa sits up straighter, pulling her headphones off her ears. She looks confused, a flash of something in her eyes Ahyeon feels stirring in the pit of her stomach, something not dissimilar to excitement.
“Why are you here?” Asa leans towards her, voice low. “Can’t you find your seat?” Then, as if stricken, her eyes travel to the empty seat beside her and back to Ahyeon. “No way. It can’t be.”
“I’m your seat partner, again!” Ahyeon brandishes her ticket in front of Asa’s face, trying to keep her voice down. It isn’t like her to be so excitable, but she can’t help feeling the sensation of pure joy that the stranger she had dreaded spending hours of uncomfortable and awkward proximity in is none other than her new friend Asa.
She doesn’t feel so stupid and ditzy, though, because Asa is grinning enormously for the first time Ahyeon met her today, impossibly adorable eye-smile wreathing her pretty face. Ahyeon feels heartened, her last vestiges of hesitance disappearing that Asa obviously looks delighted to be sitting beside her too.
“I was wondering who my seat partner was, and why they were so late — thinking they must be a hard-to-please, rude sort,” Asa whispers to her as soon as she settles in, after having kindly stood up and helped Ahyeon stow her backpack into the overhead compartment. Her silvery voice is low and warm in Ahyeon’s ear, ticklish. Ahyeon feels breathless from the short trek to her seat. They’re sitting in even closer proximity now, the space between them not much more than the legroom, Asa’s satin arm brushing her on the armrest. She smells fragrant, clean.
“And then I thought maybe no one was going to sit here and I could have the whole row to myself,” Asa continues when she doesn’t reply, making her heart swoop. “But this is so much better.” Asa’s blissful sigh and the slight catlike stretch she makes in their cramped shared air makes Ahyeon’s heart lighten weightlessly again.
“I’m glad you’re sitting beside me too,” Ahyeon replies, and watches Asa’s face light up.
“This is seriously such an insane coincidence.” Asa seems to be still shocked by the sheer luck they had stumbled into. If they hadn’t met in the waiting area and only just now found each other, Ahyeon doesn’t know if she would feel as amiable towards Asa as she does now. The flight is short, and most passengers would likely spend it sleeping and not striking up conversations with seat partners they would never be seeing again after a few hours.
“In Korea, they call it unmyeong,” Ahyeon is surprised to hear herself saying. Then she blushes, because although Asa looks adorably clueless and curious, the two words are actually used mostly to describe romance, sappy and cheesy in a way Ahyeon has never uttered to any person in her life, not even romantic interests.
“unmyeong?” Asa pronounces thoughtfully, slightly halting. The two Korean words sound charming in her foreign accent. “It sounds pretty. Does it mean like… unmei?”
Then she's the one reddening, realising herself. “No, I’m sorry —“ at the same time Ahyeon quickly amends, “No, my Japanese isn’t very good, but I think rather than unmyeong I wanted to say akai ito. I just meant… fate. Like we have a good connection with each other, so our paths keep crossing.”
She tacks the last bit on at the end, although she usually doesn’t speak so much at one shot, suddenly aware of how different this topic is from the polite, reserved monosyllables they have exchanged prior.
“Ah.” Asa nods, seeming immensely interested. “I would like to improve my Korean to how fluent your Japanese is. It sounds good when you speak it.”
Ahyeon feels her face warm again at Asa’s compliment. “It’s a beautiful language,” she just says nervously.
The captain’s voice booms over the inflight intercom, thankfully breaking up their awkward conversation. They obey the instructions to fasten the seatbelt and stow away their electronic devices (Asa checking her phone one last time, probably for news from her significant other) and Ahyeon focuses on the emergency video now playing on the minature TV embedded in the headrest in front of her.
The overhead lights dim and then the plane is taxiing down the tarmac, the little pinpoints of neon, red and green lights she had seen from the airport windows now visible in clearer definition outside the small oval plane window, swiftly retreating back under them.
It’s dizzying, somehow — watching the airport and the runway shrinking smaller and smaller beneath them from by Asa’s side, as the altitude rises little by little.
“How’s the view?” Asa asks, and Ahyeon leans back to let her share it — the mind-bogglingly tiny toy houses seeming so far away from them now, another world altogether, wisps of clouds occasionally drifting past their window despite the darkness.
“You’re not the kind that gets airsick, are you?” Asa jests, and Ahyeon laughs, the pressure in her body from the ascend loosening.
“I don’t think so. But if I were… would you move to another seat?” She meets Asa’s feline eyes, which are steady and dancing in quiet amusement, and something else — surprise from her question, maybe.
“I’d hold the paper bag for you while you puked your guts out,” Asa vows softly, making Ahyeon snort and cover her mouth, eyes searching Asa’s in disbelief. Asa nods gravely, completely serious.
She feels bad, worried they’re disturbing the passengers around them — suddenly feels despite her adulthood that they’re like two adolescent kids, two old friends reunited after a long time and bubbling over with banter and wisecracks. She wonders if Asa will turn in, drawing the airplane blanket up around her shoulders and turn away from Ahyeon in a while. She hopes not, feels awake instead of tired. She isn’t just glad to be sitting beside Asa for the comfort, but also hoping for another transporting conversation.
As soon as the plane is stable, the seatbelts sign goes off and stewardesses start pushing trolleys down the aisle, offering hot towels and refreshments. Ahyeon can’t see the smile Asa directs at the handsome flight steward who stops beside them, but it must be very charming because he looks dazzled. He beams pleasantly at Ahyeon too, handing them packets of peanuts and hot towels and the wine Asa requested plus Ahyeon’s orange juice.
“You shouldn’t be flirting with the steward,” Ahyeon whispers reproachfully in Asa’s ear when she’s out of earshot, making her sputter and nearly spit out her mouthful of wine. “Aren’t you already attached?”
Asa’s face is red, either from the near-choking or Ahyeon’s words when she turns around, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “I wasn’t flirting! Besides, he was too busy staring at you to notice me!”
Now it’s Ahyeon’s turn to flush, having always been uncomfortable with attention from male strangers. She feels even more discomfited at the fact that Asa apparently noticed her looks and found her… appealing.
“Anyway, I wouldn’t call myself attached at this point of time, per se,” Asa sighs, eyes faraway as she drains her wine and stows the cup in the cup holder on her opened table. She takes Ahyeon’s empty cup too and stacks it up inside her so Ahyeon can have more space and fold up her own table. “It’s a long story.”
Ahyeon looks at her curiously. She had just assumed Asa was in a happy relationship when she mentioned her SO, going to visit for a loving reunion classic to long-distance relationships. But perhaps… their circumstances are more similar than either of them realised. She wonders what kind of expression Asa would have on her reticent, calm face if Ahyeon were to tell her about her history with Chiquita in greater detail.
“Well… I hope you manage to work things out with him,” Ahyeon says uncertainly, unsure if this is what Asa wants. It must be, right? Since she's flying all the way to Japan to meet and talk to that person. This romantic, painstaking devotion of Asa towards love strikes Ahyeon as improbable from her outward undemonstrative and cool exterior, oddly endearing. It’s gratifying to know she's not alone in being a woman who would fly to another country to win the girl of her dreams over.
“Thanks, I guess,” Asa says ambivalently. “Of course I hope everything works well for you too.” Her tone sounds slightly uncertain as it trails off, eyes searching Ahyeon’s, prying into them for something Ahyeon doesn’t know. She quickly looks away, back out of the window, worried her gaze reveals too much.
In the end, she turns out to be the one who falls asleep. She must have been more tired than she thought. She startles awake to the rattle of the trolley down the aisle again. She hears children’s voices a few rows ahead, excited, and gathers from craning her neck that they’re serving breakfast. It’s just a less-than-three-hour flight, but the timing coincided with a mealtime and the airline must be feeling sorry to their passengers for the delay. Disoriented, Ahyeon wonders how long she has been out.
“Tired?” Asa says next to her, making her jump a little and realise she has both their blankets slipping down her chest. Asa must have seen her fall asleep and tucked her own blanket over Ahyeon, a gesture that Ahyeon for the life of her cannot picture the woman she is looking at doing.
She clears her gravelly throat and fumbles to pick up Asa’s blanket, wordlessly extending it to her. “This…?”
“Oh.” Asa accepts it back, seeming not to think her gesture was anything out of the ordinary. “You’re not wearing a lot, so I thought you might feel cold.”
“What about you?” Ahyeon’s voice sounds coarse, and out of habit she runs a hand through her hair.
Asa smiles sheepishly, gesturing to the hood of her sweatshirt she's pulled up over her head, making her look younger than before. “I’m okay. My clothes are thick.”
Ahyeon licks her dry lips and settles back into her seat, hoping she didn’t look embarrassing when she was in slumber. Asa is reading a book.
“Do you believe in fate?” Ahyeon asks absently, making Asa look up at her with her piercing eyes widened.
“Uh… not really.” Asa seems confused at Ahyeon revisiting the topic they had awkwardly left earlier.
“Really?” Ahyeon raises an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. “Because the book you’re reading… isn’t it about that?”
“How did you know?” A smile has crept onto Asa’s lips and she's once again regarding Ahyeon appreciatively.
Ahyeon pretends to be offended. “Do I not look like a reader to you?”
“No, no,” Asa says quickly. “That’s not what I meant at all. Just… this book is pretty obscure. I don't even usually read many. I didn’t expect to meet someone who has read it before on this flight… and that person to be you.” Their eyes lock again, and Ahyeon feels a frisson of something above her stomach.
“I just happened to stumble across it.” She shrugs offhandedly. “So… you think fate is something that exists only in books?”
Asa pauses to ponder Ahyeon’s question with touching seriousness. Her profile is thoughtful, beautiful somehow in the hazy, shadowy plane light. She’s wearing a pair of glasses she put on to read and the overhead reading light flatters her chiseled, slightly tired features.
“Maybe,” Asa says finally, looking at her again. “I want to believe in it, but I don’t think I can until I personally encounter it myself.”
“Me too,” Ahyeon murmurs, sinking back into the hard cushion of her seat. The stewardesses are approaching, and she gazes out of the window at the impenetrably mysterious black and waits.
Flying over the banks of clouds, into Japan, dining on breakfast leisurely with Asa — Ahyeon has to say this is an utterly unlikely, irreplaceable experience.
Asa is so gentle — offering her her orange juice, having noticed Ahyeon was drinking it a few hours ago, and anything from her tray Ahyeon might still want if she's hungry.
“You eat well,” Asa remarks, sounding taken aback when Ahyeon helps herself to what Asa can’t finish.
“You sound surprised.” Ahyeon feels sheepish, worried she appeared gluttonous. But Asa smiles, her gentle, fond eyes somehow making Ahyeon feel that she looks cute.
“Nah, I just didn’t expect you to eat even more than me, since your figure is so good.”
* * *
The softly warm rays of morning sun filter through the glass walls of the airport as they walk out of Arrivals together. Everything around her feels like a beginning except the space between Ahyeon and the woman pushing a trolley carrying both their luggages next to her. Just last night, they were no more than strangers. It feels surreal, dreamlike that in just a few hours, Asa could feel more familiar to Ahyeon than possible, more familiar than she has any right to be.
At the same time, she feels like a stranger — tantalizingly so, like the feeling Ahyeon recalls at the start of her relationship with Chiquita when she barely knew a thing about her yet and there was so much to discover, a whole new world.
It’s strange that Asa reminds her of Chiquita — because heaven knows besides both not being Korean they’re nothing alike — but Ahyeon assumes that it’s simply because she will be seeing her soon and doesn’t pursue the line of thought.
Beside her, Asa seems to be straggling behind, dragging her feet. Ahyeon is about to offer to help, realising the heavy load is probably wearing her out, when a stunningly attractive young woman walks briskly up to them, her eyes soft, and proceeds to throw her arms around Asa’s neck.
Asa’s eyes meet Ahyeon’s from above her head, her neck being peppered in kisses, and Ahyeon looks away but not before catching Asa flush.
“Unnie-yah!” the girl exclaims, in a sweet voice. “I was so worried when I saw the flight was delayed, and I had to wait for an extra hour, but luckily I met a new friend who accompanied me! She went to redo her makeup to wait for her girlfriend, but she’ll be here in a —“
“Ahyeon unnie?” Ahyeon hears in an unmistakable voice and looks up from the trolley to see Chiquita walking slowly towards her, looking beautiful and confused. “How do you know Rora’s…?”
At the same moment Rora seems to realise that Asa’s trolley has another person’s baggage on it. “Asa unnie, you didn’t come alone…?”
“We met while waiting for the plane,” Ahyeon hears Asa’s voice saying behind her, only appreciating now that she isn’t looking at Asa while listening how achingly lovely it is. She knows that after these hours of listening, she'd be able to recognize it anywhere, anytime she came across it again. But… would she?
“That’s such a coincidence!” Chiquita is saying brightly, kind of dazzling after Ahyeon just left the shadowy confines of the plane, jet-lagged. “Rora and I met while waiting for the delay to be over as well. If not for her, I would’ve been bored to tears!” Chiquita laughs gratefully.
She hears Asa mumbling something behind her, but she continues facing Chiquita and doesn’t turn to look at her again. She doesn’t know what kind of face Asa is making, but she sounds equally shocked at the crazy string of fate that led the four of them to cross path’s with each other’s partners. She wonders if Asa believes, just a little more, in akai ito now.
“Well, then,” Ahyeon hears herself say heavily, finally turning back. She’s surprised to see Asa not embracing or kissing Rora from the silence that had fallen behind her, but watching Ahyeon warily. “We should probably get going,” Ahyeon says, not meeting her eyes.
“S-sure.” Asa seems to be snapped out of her daze at Ahyeon’s cool words. “Let me just get that for you.” She reaches down to heave Ahyeon’s hefty luggage from the trolley, but Ahyeon forestalls her.
As their arms graze for the last time, Ahyeon feels the hairs on her skin standing up with static. Ahyeon makes sure to show Asa her strength doesn’t lose to her, by picking up her suitcase with an effortless movement and setting it on the floor, not even straining. Asa’s suitcase looks lonely, left solitary on her trolley. Its owner probably doesn’t feel so though, with such a breathtaking woman on her arm.
Chiquita seems uncharacteristically fidgety, distracted, and quiet today, but Ahyeon doesn’t even notice till they’re walking away. She’s too busy trying to ignore the weight of Asa’s silent gaze warm on her back, as if she expected Ahyeon to say a formal goodbye or hug her farewell or something. It’s not as if they’re friends — just because they bonded a little on the trip here, doesn’t mean that they can just start a friendship just because they want to. She has no idea how long Asa will be staying, when or if she will be returning to Seoul.
This is how such things end — they’ll never see each other again.
Chiquita is helping her to wheel her bulky suitcase, seeing through her machismo in an instant, so when she stops abruptly mid-step Ahyeon is forced to stop too. Asa and Rora are only a few paces behind, and Ahyeon tugs urgently at the handle, wanting to get away as fast as she can, as far as she can run suddenly.
“Ahyeon-ah,” Chiquita says slowly, looking up into her eyes gravely. “You're going to regret it if you never see that girl again.”
Air hitches in her throat, at Chiquita reading her mind, and not just in her head but out loud. It’s like her thoughts are transparent, like the words are tattooed across her forehead. Ahyeon swallows hard, pinning her eyes, stricken.
Chiquita’s eyes soften, in that contrast that had captured her heart so many years ago. But Ahyeon’s mind is filled with thoughts of Asa now.
“At least ask for her number,” she says quietly. “You can decide what to do with it later. Okay?”
“You’re crazy,” Ahyeon gasps, the words tumbling out of her mouth. “She’s a woman —“
“No, you look crazy!” Chiquita overrides her firmly, raising her voice in a way Ahyeon is afraid Asa can hear. “You should see the look on your face right now, Jung Ahyeon! Do you know the only time I’ve seen unnie look like this before? That afternoon back in university, after I kissed you in the club room —“ Chiquita breaks off, looking pained and embarrassed at verbalizing her bold actions.
Ahyeon is stunned. She wants to place her hands on her face, dash to a mirror and find out exactly what kind of look Chiquita is talking about. She was trying so hard to play it cool, but can it be obvious that she feels inexplicably… heartbroken?
She’s also reeling from the fact that apparently Chiquita knows her better than she thought she did, that she has been observing her even when she thought she never paid attention. She’s overcome with a rush of feeling for her, less passionate but still strong.
“Chi — I flew here to tell you… I’ll always love you.” Ahyeon shocks herself with her words, words she never thought she'd have the bravery to speak in a lifetime. But that was before, when she was still in love with Chiquita.
Chiquita’s eyes brighten and shimmer with pretty tears, and her voice is rough when she replies, “Me too, Ahyeonie unnie. But… you have to admit… it hasn’t been the same for some time. Time passes… and people change. Feelings change.”
Ahyeon knows what she means, Asa’s face flashing into her head, dear.
“But… what if —“
“Look.” Chiquita stops her with a single word, gently steering her to turn around. Ahyeon blinks to see Asa and Rora still standing in the same spot, never having moved, still watching them leave. The expression Asa has on her face is complicated, torn, desperate… and she's looking only at Ahyeon, Rora seemingly forgotten by her side.
Ahyeon’s breath catches in her throat, swiveling back to look at Chiquita, who is beaming encouragingly at her. She’s never looked so beautiful.
“Go,” she says, and tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on Ahyeon’s cheek.
Ahyeon has already shifted back to face Asa by then, and the dismay that enters Asa’s eyes, the way the traces of warmth in her face falter, are enough to make Ahyeon take a reckless step forward, back in her direction.
Chiquita is still holding on to her suitcase for her, so Ahyeon feels slightly stupid as she approaches Asa again slowly, foolishly. She’s suddenly hyperaware of the way she's walking and Asa’s eyes following her every move till she's standing in front of her.
“Ahyeonie?” Asa’s voice comes out in a croak, her eyes saucer-like, instantly making her blush hotly. Ahyeon wants to hug her — not farewell, but lovingly.
“Asa-yah, I —“ Ahyeon worries her backpack straps, anxious at not having anything to tighten her grip over.
“Can you give her your number?” Unbeknownst to her, Chiquita has crept up behind her and makes Ahyeon jump about a foot high with her loud question. She glares at her, mortified, but beside Asa, Rora sighs knowingly and speaks up for the first time. “Girls.” Ahyeon catches their eyes meeting and communicating something wordlessly, but she's too riveted by the hopeful look dawning on Asa’s face, thrilled and disbelieving, as if a miracle has befallen her.
“O-of course,” Asa stammers again in her rush to reply, for the second time since Ahyeon met her. She holds out a hand for Ahyeon’s phone, a gesture reminscent of how they met — which the girls don’t know. Already, they have private inside jokes.
Ahyeon fishes out her phone, all thumbs, and nearly drops it this time when Chiquita continues speaking beside her, in her confident, honey-sweet voice. “Speaking of numbers, could you give me yours too, Rora unnie?”
Both women turn on their counterparts in confusion, not being aware that they were already on such a familiar basis after merely being acquainted for less than two hours. Ahyeon looks at Asa as it dawns on her that the only reason they met was that both Ahyeon and Asa had forgotten to text them that their flight had been delayed, in the flurry of meeting each other.
Rora looks shocked, a vulnerable expression on her face which she quickly recovers and breaks into a shaky smile. Ahyeon knows how she feels — the effect Chiquita has on everybody, men and women.
“I would love to,” Asa’s ex-girlfriend says, meeting Chiquita’s eager gaze straight on with more frankness than either Ahyeon or Asa have displayed.
“Chi, you —“ Ahyeon can’t finish her sentence, tearing her eyes away from Asa’s piercing gaze for a millisecond to gape at her kinda-ex.
“Sorry it didn't work out between us, unnie," Chiquita says quietly. Rora is already staring at her with moony, worshipful eyes as if she hung the stars in the sky.
All Ahyeon can do is to blink like a goldfish and nod lamely. “It’s all right,” she manages to say.
She feels a hand on her arm, a familiar touch, and loses her bearings again. She looks down to see Asa has taken her arm, just closed her hand over it gently, to get her attention, as if she was jealous to see Ahyeon talking to someone else, talking to her ex about their relationship. Ahyeon can’t help smiling. Asa is so achingly lovable.
She still can't believe she's let another woman -- let Asa -- upset her equilibrium so much, but for all she tries Ahyeon can't bring herself to be mad at the gorgeous, older woman.
When she looks up shyly, Asa has that bashful, sweet smile on her face and relief in her eyes. That smile that says everything is going to be alright, and Ahyeon recalls the ending of the book about fate they had, fatefully, both read.
Maybe she'll invite her Asa unnie to the airport coffee shop to have a drink before they depart for the hotel, ask her if she wants to fly back to Seoul together, and sweetly request for her to read the last line of the book that Ahyeon still remembers clear as day in her mind.
And they all lived happily ever after.