Work Text:
Momo dreamed of becoming infinite. She remembered saying it out loud for the first time when Misamo had first debuted, gutting herself to the audience in an intimate opening film. All of the girls had done the same as her, but it feels now nearly 20 years later, she can truly grasp the weight of her words.
Her time in the limelight had come and gone, leaving her with albums and magazine covers neatly tucked away into a box of memories. The photos she took with the group, her group, still adorned her house and so did their shoes in her foyer whenever they stopped by to visit. Time had of course made them grow apart slightly, but in the face of time, they always found their way back.
It had gotten harder, in the past schedules for work always brought them together and the lightness of youth had them meeting ever after their days had closed. But now there was a constant ache in Momo’s knees and there was always laundry to be done or chores that took precedence.
One of them was always away, Sana had taken a liking to traveling with her lover, a woman. The younger had confided in Momo one night after a couple of glasses of wine, talking about how her then girlfriend and now fiance made her feel as if she was making up for lost time.
Over glasses of red, sweet the way that Sana always liked it, they had cut each other open. There was no one that knew her better than Sana did, the younger woman coming up with ideas before the thought even started to cross her mind. They felt the same way, after the amount of time they’ve spent together it always seemed that way. The fame, the luxury, was fun when they were kids. It was like walking on air every day, only for them to plummet back down with the thought of flash of a camera they hadn't noticed.
The fear had been exhausting for the both of them, a secret that they shared together in a far too small dorm. They were kids then, Momo barely 18 and Sana not that far behind her, holding each other trying to evade the anxiety that was finding home in their bones more and more often. They saw each other through it all, exchanging spoken vulnerabilities and eventually a few experimental kisses.
They were older now, Sana finally able to shake the fear that had once consumed her. She knew that it still gripped Momo at times, the older girl shying away from affection even just between their members. She wasn’t sure if it was the wine or her own selfishness, but there was some kind of jealousy that used to grip her. Life wasn’t fair and she knew it, but she couldn’t help the slight tinge of pain when she saw Sana hanging off her lover’s arm in public. No fear behind her eyes, only the warmth that she shared with the other woman. They were making up for time lost to fear, lost to the thought of an article with enough weight to ruin their lives. It was safe now, no one paid too much mind to the stars fading into normal lives once again. Momo just needed to stop caring herself.
The last time that Momo had seen them was through a picture, smile lines around their lips and crow's feet by their eyes as they smiled with the lightness you’d expect from the gates of heaven itself. Momo understood her, she always understood Sana, it felt as if she had wasted time too.
–
Im Nayeon was an enigma, impossible to understand and larger than life. And Hirai Momo had dedicated the years laid before her to try to unravel her. Love was complicated, made more so under the constant surveillance of managers and news outlets waiting for a slip in professionalism. Momo could remember it like it had just happened yesterday, the feeling that ate at the deepest pit of her stomach the first time Nayeon kissed her and the way that her tears had wet Sana’s shirt on the same night. The fear that settled into her when she realized she liked it, craved it; and the security that warmed her making it feel as if she had finally found home again after being away for eons. Im Nayeon was her greatest fear and the shore that she prayed to find safety at during every storm.
The older woman always remained a constant, bringing the younger along every time that she promoted alone. Momo never felt interested in releasing a solo project, but the way that Nayeon took her around it felt as if she had put something out herself. They lived together for years when they were younger, easily falling into domestic bliss with each other. Every morning she woke up to everything she needed, their three dogs and the woman she loved who was starting to spend more time in Momo’s bed than her own.
Back then, there was a fear that came with the thought of labeling what they had. Everyone could see it, their members knew and the public had a feeling that it was more than safe to assume, but they never had the heart to say it themselves. Everything about it was bound in love, the way that Momo would cook the older woman breakfast every day and the way that Nayeon would clean the kitchen afterward. Their love lived behind the door of their apartment, acting as a shield. In the silence of their apartment, they could hold each other on the couch as the sun set, hands and bodies intertwined lips meeting softly as if it was a prayer.
—
It took years before they explicitly said it. Not once had they ever said those three words privately, the intimacy leaving them both with dry throats and a shake in their hands. They both told the story with a smile on their faces whenever it got brought up, it didn’t happen until their bodies had grown too tired to perform the way they used to. It was romantic to them, but the most normal thing to everyone else. It had happened one night, the two had moved in together again coming back after living separately for some time.
The two had fallen into the same rhythm they had in their twenties, cooking and cleaning in a hurry to try to spend the most time with each other as possible. The two had settled onto the couch, picking a drama to pass the time. Their bodies clicked together the way they had years ago, hands intertwining without the need to look at their bodies simply knowing what to do. Nayeon had laid her head on her shoulder and the words were so quiet that Momo had to strain to hear them.
They always played when they said it, laughing and making fun when they tried to tell each other how much they meant to one another. But something about it felt different, maybe it was the grays starting to show in their hair or the way that bodies were starting to get better suited to quiet nights instead of busy days. But when Im Nayeon said that she loved her, Hirai Momo realized just how much time they wasted when they were younger.
Her 20s were spent hiding, scared to ruin her career. She sang and she danced, throwing herself into it as the only outlet that she had. Her body screamed what couldn’t leave her lips, she wrote songs about love and danced with a passion that she couldn’t explain on camera. Everything about her was loud, only to be silent in slow moments and hushed by the fears that ate at her.
Dreams were realized, but something about it felt empty. She loved her past, she adored the fans and the accolades, but as she got older she saw how little it all mattered. Sana always brought her fiance when she came over, and the other members did the same. She envied how proud the younger woman was, but she knew that Sana felt the same way that she did.
Over 20 years later, when Nayeon made fun of her as she dyed over the grays sprouting in her hair. When she applied lidocaine patches on the aches in her back, massaged her shoulders when she ached too much to sleep. When she made sure that she was taking all of her vitamins in the morning and finding her glasses when she lost them. Momo realized how much she wished that she was screaming her love out to the world, her love for the woman aging gracefully reading glasses perched on her nose as she read novels on their couch, fingers absentmindly playing with the ring on her finger, purchased years ago as a set to match with Momo. For the woman who performed by her side since the beginning, losing sleep to teach her Korean years ago slipping in words she didn’t yet understand held adoration. For the woman that the world wanted and ached for when Im Nayeon belonged to Hirai Momo only, since the beginning and for years to come.
Decades later she realized, this was the infinity she was chasing