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In front of a small, probably ancient fireworks shop, there’s an even smaller bus stop with a bus that Mizi takes every Friday.
The bus she takes is brand new; the seats aren’t worn, with soft and padded cushions, and the light blue coating sometimes shines when the sun hits just the right spot. The route it takes is unpopular, though, and despite it being new, there’s not many regulars who take the bus.
There’s a grandma with thick, dark hair that’s healthy enough to make Mizi think she is younger than she actually is. But the wrinkles under her eyes and her weak, creaky voice betrays the sense of youth
Aside from Mizi, there’s a girl that regularly takes the bus as well. She knows she’s about her age, judging by her school uniform, white with a dark blue blazer. Mizi recognizes the uniform from a high school, one of the most prestigious in her area, and Mizi knows which brand the girl gets her star hair clips from.
Besides that, there’s not much Mizi knows about her.
There’s something oddly, achingly familiar about her, though, and she can’t shake off the feeling that she’s met her before. She reminds her of someone she knew, of someone she’s met before.
But Mizi can’t quite put her finger on it, so she’s content with watching from afar.
_____
It’s not February anymore. Winter has passed, but the snow hasn’t melted yet. There’s no more bleak skies, and no more heavy snowfall, covering everything with a thick blanket of snow. The cold still clings onto the air, and Mizi sneezes, glasses sliding off the bridge of her nose.
The bus arrives 17 minutes late, and by that point Mizi is shivering. She slings on her bag and fishes out her card, before running onto the bus steps.
The bus driver— Hyuna, she notes, from her namecard —smiles. “Cold today, huh?”
“Y-Yeah,” Mizi answers. “Hehe, forgot my scarf.”
She taps her card and sits down at her usual spot. It’s not warm enough, and Mizi can’t help but shiver. There’s not much she can do to prevent the cold, so she adjusts her position on the seat and closes her eyes.
_____
Mizi looks up to see a glass box.
A pitch black void surrounds her, vast, light-consuming and dark. Like a starless night sky. It’s cold — still, not as cold as the winter — and she breathes out, fogging the glass. Carefully, she rubs the fog away.
She looks back to meet a pair of purple eyes. There’s a girl sitting across from her, separated by her own glass box. She reminds Mizi of a porcelain doll: still, unmoving, lifeless. Beautiful.
Frills decorate her dress, ribbons neatly stitched onto the top. Her breath fogs the glass, but her eyes look dead.
Mizi presses her hands to the glass box. The girl shifts her position, inching closer to the window. Slowly, she presses her hands to the glass box, creating marks where her fingers pressed on the glass.
She breathes in. There’s something familiar about her, too.
_____
Mizi wakes up to someone calling her name.
She doesn’t wake up right away, really, but she registers the voice calling her name, and it’s definitely a girl. Her voice is soft, too soft to be the bus driver’s voice, but too loud to be just her imagination. It’s almost soothing somehow, like a soft lullaby, and Mizi can’t help but shut her eyes and curl up to the windowsill a bit more, in search of some warmth.
A second later, there’s a hand on her shoulder, and Mizi jolts awake.
“Are you alright?”
Mizi rubs her eyes and looks up to see the girl that sits across from her on the bus. The lights from inside the bus blind her, and she squints her eyes to take in the sight of the girl before her.
The more Mizi looks at her, the more recognizable she is. Dark black hair, just below her shoulder bones, and a pair of strikingly purple, grape-like eyes that she’s sworn she’s looked at before.
Mizi feels like she’s seen her before, but her memory is blurry — like there’s something she should remember but can’t.
“Hello,” she repeats, slower this time. “Are you alright?”
Mizi blinks and realizes she hasn't replied yet.
“..Yeah, I’m alright!” She stutters out, rushed with words joining together, because she can’t function around pretty girls. “Sorry!”
There’s a second of silence before the girl laughs. “It’s fine, there’s nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry for waking you, but you were shivering in your sleep. Are you cold?”
Mizi responds with a slow nod. “It’s fine though! It’s my fault anyways, my sweater is pretty thin. I didn’t expect it to be as cold as it is.”
“It’s cold, you should wear something thicker.” The girl chides, furrowing her brows. “Wait,” she instructs, reaching over to grab her bag and shuffle around the inside. There’s a minute or two of digging in before she pulls out a thick scarf.
It’s beautiful: the stitches are lined up nicely, light gray in color, and the yarn it’s made from is really thick. She folds it and hands it to Mizi. “Here, you can wear this. I’m not that cold anyways.”
“Really?” Mizi asks, wary. She touches the scarf, soft yarn. There’s no splitting despite the yarn’s thickness, and it’s light and airy despite its density.
“Yeah,” She nods, reaching back into her bag to grab something. Mizi watches as she pulls out her card. “Anyways, it’s almost my stop now. Sorry for waking you.”
“Thank you so much!” Mizi beams. She wraps the scarf around her neck. “I’ll pay you back someday!”
A second passes, and the screen behind the driver’s seat light’s up, indicating a new stop.
“It’s fine. No need. I’m Sua, by the way,” Sua calls out, waving to Mizi.
Then she’s walking out of the bus, thick black hair flowing in the harsh wind. Mizi watches as she gets out, watches as the bus speeds up, and watches as the landscape turns into a blur of blue-greens.
“Sua,” Mizi repeats, the name rolling off her tongue with repeated ease. There’s something familiar about her name too, like she’s said it a thousand times before. Like the name of a street, or the name of her friend — someone she’s called out to before.
And then a realization hits her, swift and sudden: she doesn’t remember telling Sua her name.
_____
In the third week of February, Mizi rides the bus again.
It’s not as cold as before, and Mizi breathes in the cool, crisp air. Carefully, she slings her bag over her shoulder and sits down at the bus stop.
She checks her watch. 5:30, it reads. The bus arrives late at 5:34. She should probably return Sua’s scarf by now.
She steps onto the bus slowly, legs wobbling because of swim practice. She takes off her shoes when she sits down, feet sore. She spots Sua at her usual spot, just infront of the exit.
“Hiya,” Mizi greets her. Sua smiles back.
She has a pretty smile.
The bus ride goes as usual. By 5:38, they’re surprisingly already at the first stop, and then the next 5 minutes later, and the next is just 2 minutes later, which is Sua’s stop. She knows that because Sua already stands up when they arrive at the second stop, lest she gets up too late.
So that’s exactly what happens: by 5:43, Sua’s standing up, bag in hand. 2 minutes later, they arrive at the next stop. Belatedly, Mizi realizes she hasn’t returned Sua’s scarf back.
Mizi calls Sua’s name, but by then Sua’s already walking out, and Mizi scrambles, because she won’t be here next Friday.
She grabs her bag, quickly toes on her shoes, and runs out.
“Sua!” Mizi calls, waving her arms around.
Sua looks back, almost shocked, and stops. “Mizi? What’s wrong?”
“I—“ Mizi stops, then starts coughing. Sua pats her back lightly, supporting Mizi.
Sua furrows her brows. “Hey, don’t get sick now. What’s wrong?”
Mizi breathes in, fishes out her bottle and drinks. She pauses, turns to face Sua, and does a 90 degree bow. “I’m so so sorry! I’m not going to take the bus next week, and I forgot to return your scarf.”
“You didn’t have to go out of your way to return it, I don’t wear it often,” Sua shrugs, rubbing the back of her head. Her eyes divert Mizi’s stare as though she is embarrassed. “But thank you, I appreciate it.”
Mizi grins. “Thank you for lending it to me too! It was no problem at all trying to return it.”
“Actually, it is kind of a problem. The bus has already gone away. It doesn’t come back until,” Sua frowns, checking her watch, “8:30.”
“Oh.”
“And the nearest bus stop from here is 30 minutes away.”
“ Oh .”
“And it’s starting to rain,” Sua ends, looking up. There’s droplets of water dripping onto her neat, ironed blazer, so she clicks her tongue and pulls out an umbrella. “Do you want to borrow my umbrella and head over to the next stop? It’s a bit far though. About 15 minutes by foot.”
Mizi aggressively shakes her head. “No, no, it’s fine! I don’t want to be indebted to you anymore. Plus, I don’t mind waiting.”
“Okay. But you’ll have to wait about an hour,” Sua starts, opening her umbrella, “in the meantime, would you like to get some coffee?”
_____
The walk to the cafe is brisk. The leaves on the ground make crick-crack sounds when Mizi steps on them, and Mizi tries to make out which leaves would be the best for stomping on.
“Do you live near here?” Mizi asks, stepping particularly hard on a dry brown leaf. It makes a satisfying crunching sound and she smiles.
“Not really, but my house isn’t near any schools, and I got a scholarship into my current one. The bus we take is the nearest one to my house.” Sua hums, still carrying the umbrella. She’s a bit shorter than Mizi, though, and she has to lift it up quite a bit to accommodate Mizi's height.
“Sorry! Here, I’ll carry the umbrella.”
Mizi catches the slight blush on Sua’s face. She’s probably cold, so Mizi takes the scarf and wraps it around Sua’s neck. Sua coughs out a thank-you.
“What about you?” Sua says, continuing the conversation, “you don’t take the bus everyday, do you?”
“Yep, I only take it on Fridays because I have extracurriculars, and it’s far from my house.”
“What extracurriculars do you take?” Sua asks.
“I take swimming, baseball, volleyball, basketball and I’m the leader of the track club!” Mizi beams, showing off her duffle bag that’s slung low on her shoulders. “Oh! And on Fridays specifically I take swimming, that’s why I always haul around this bag.”
“Woah! You’re — you’re really athletic.” Sua comments, eyes pensively staring at her duffle bag.
“It’s nothing! I’ve always been a fan of sports. There’s just something comforting about it— the adrenaline, y’know? Plus, I can protect myself better now.” Mizi shrugs, scratching her neck. “What about you? What extracurriculars do you take?”
Sua hums. “Not much, I only take academic lessons. And singing. I wish I was as athletic as you.”
‘That’s really cool, actually! I’ve never been good at academics…” Mizi sighs, umbrella wobbling. “Hey. Maybe we could study together sometimes!”
Is she being too weird right now? Sua will probably think she’s a freak.
“Sure,” Sua says, surprisingly. “I’d love to.”
Mizi beams.
_____
They’re in a nice, small cafe tucked in between a pawn shop and some deserted laundromat. It’s relatively bright compared to the other shops around, and the lights are yellow, a contrast to the white light of the pawn shop.
“What do you want to order?” Sua asks, staring up at the menu.
“Ah, no need. I didn’t bring any money.”
“Don’t worry. It’s on me.”
There’s really no need.
“Ah! No need, no need, I don’t want to burden you anymore.” Mizi shrugs.
Sua ignores her. “You’ve just finished swimming, right? Then you need some energy to replenish. Excuse me, can I get two bubble milk teas?”
And that’s that.
_____
They’re seated just in front of the window, where Mizi can observe the rain. Rain has always been beautiful, really, despite being a hindrance to her commute home.
“I’ve always liked the rain,” Mizi comments, bubble tea in hand. “It’s really pretty, even though it’s such a hassle sometimes.”
“I like the rain too.” Sua smiles, and Mizi’ll always remember how pretty her smiles were. She had types of smiles: ones for politeness, to greet cashiers and order and say thank you’s, clipped and reserved. And rarer ones, like the one she’s using right now. The kind of smile that reaches her eyes. The kind of smile that makes Mizi’s heart skip a beat.
They talk about mundane things, like the weather and the coffee and most stuff Mizi wouldn’t like to talk about. But the conversation flows so easily, like she’s talking to an old friend from primary school that she hasn’t met in years. The fond feeling still lingers, though, and Mizi feels a certain fondness for Sua that she hasn’t felt for anyone else.
She takes another sip of the bubble tea, mumbling out a ‘Wow, this is so good,’ in between slurps. She promptly chokes.
“Slow down now,” Sua laughs, and it makes Mizi grin, despite the burning feeling in her throat.
“How can I ever repay you?” Mizi says, dramatically leaning onto Sua. Sua, surprisingly, wraps an arm around Mizi. She doesn’t seem like the type of person to like physical touch, and Mizi’s aware that she’s being a bit too clingy.
“It’s okay,” Sua says, the angel that she is, “just pay me back next time.”
Mizi blinks — next time? Was this supposed to be a regular thing? But Mizi finds herself happy that Sua wants to spend time with her.
“Of course! I’ll give you my contact, then,” Mizi states, grabbing her phone from where it sits on the table. She ignores the texts from her mom and opens up LINE instead, and shows Sua her LINE ID. “Do you have LINE?”
“I do. Here, let me type it out. Cute phone case, by the way.” Sua notes, observing Mizi’s light pink phone case. There’s a tooth charm, too. “You like toothbrushes?” Sua guesses. Mizi blushes.
“I guess I do. How’d you know?”
“Hm. Just a guess.”
“Y’know, sometimes, I feel like I’ve known you my entire life,” Mizi laughs, realizing how weird and awkward she sounds. She says it anyway, though, because she knows that Sua wouldn’t judge.
Unsurprisingly, Sua smiles.
_____
Just as expected, this Friday, Mizi doesn’t have swimming practice. She misses her swimming practice, however taxing it may be, and she misses Sua more, oddly enough. They haven’t even talked after the cafe incident. She probably should. So Mizi grabs her phone and sends her a quick selfie before she can regret it.
‘hi !! <3’ she types in, before deleting it completely and settling with a simple “hi! how are you?’
Mizi quickly realizes how weird this all is. They’ve known each other for, what? 7 days?
But there’s something different about Sua. Something alluring and addicting and weird .
There’s no use in pondering over it, though, so she closes her phone and tucks it inside her pocket. When there’s a notification coming from her phone, she finds herself wishing it was Sua.
_____
Mizi’s at home, lounging around when her phone lights up with a ding. She grabs it out of her pocket, and there’s a notification coming from LINE. Giddy, she opens it, hoping that it’s from Sua.
Bingo. It is a reply from Sua.
‘Hi, I’m doing well.’ It reads.
Then, a selfie: it’s Sua, sitting at her usual spot on the bus, making a peace sign. Her hair is tied into a bun this time, and Mizi recognizes her signature star hair clips. She looks really pretty. It makes Mizi’s cheeks flush. Weird.
Mizi tells her so, and their conversation develops from there; they talk about mundane things, and not so mundane things, like school and extracurriculars and how much Mizi hates math. It’s odd how easily they talk to each other— like they’ve talked before and that’s why Mizi’s so good at talking to her.
Like an old friend you haven’t talked to in a while. That’s the only thing Mizi can come up with that sums up her attraction to Sua.
If soulmates existed, then Sua would be hers.
_____
Sometimes, though not often, Mizi feels like an intricate puzzle, built up perfectly piece-by-piece. Every piece has a purpose; every piece was made for her to feel human. But there’s one piece that’s missing — the one piece she needs to feel completely whole. A puzzle without its missing piece will never be rendered as complete, and Mizi without her missing— something will never feel complete.
Mizi feels astray. Unfulfilled and missing something she can’t quite put her finger on. She searches for fulfillment in everything: sports, singing, making new friends, but there’s nothing that can fill the missing piece inside of her. You can try to fit as many pieces as you can into a puzzle hole, but if it’s not the right one, the puzzle can’t be finished.
Her phone lights up with a ‘ding’ and Mizi swipes up to see a selfie from Sua. She’s grinning ear to ear, and there’s an array of manga behind her. A feeling blooms inside of Mizi. It’s warm, like a cup of hot tea on a winter night.
Sometimes, Sua feels like her missing piece.
_____
There’s someone sitting on the bus next to Sua this time around.
He’s a boy, eerily similar to Sua, with black hair that reaches just above his ears. Mizi spots him before she even enters the bus through the windows when she’s searching to see if Sua’s there. He’s definitely not one of the regulars.
Mizi steps onto the bus, greets Hyuna, and tries to discreetly observe the guy sitting next to Sua. He’s objectively good looking — long face and long eyelashes — and he’s sitting next to Sua. Is he her boyfriend? Oddly enough, the thought of Sua having a boyfriend isn’t really a pleasant thought.
“Hello, Mizi, it’s nice to meet you.” He chirps, staring back at Mizi. Apparently, her ‘discreet’ observing attempt was not discreet enough. “My name is Ivan. I’m Sua’s brother.”
Mizi freaks. She’s not good at talking to pretty girls, and she’s not good at talking to pretty guys either. She blinks once, slowly raises her hand to wave and croaks out, “hey.”
I’m such a loser, Mizi screams inside.
Ivan laughs. “Don’t be nervous. I don’t bite. You thought I was her boyfriend, didn’t you?”
Ah. Is it that obvious?
“Ah, no! I was just wondering who you were. I’m sorry.”
Sua elbows him. “Shut up. Stop doing that, will you?”
“I’ll let you lovebirds sit together, geez,” Ivan says, standing up and sitting at the seat behind Sua. Mizi squeaks. “Sorry Mizi.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have let you come.”
Mizi wants to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. She could, technically, sit at her usual spot across Sua, but then Ivan’s already gone out of his way to give her a seat, so it should be polite to just take it, right? But she’s worried Sua will see the blush on her face and begin to question things —
“Hey,” Sua says, breaking Mizi’s train of thought. “You can sit next to me.”
“Ah! Okay, okay.”
They spend the bus ride talking. Ivan, as it turns out, is very talkative, and Mizi learns about him and Sua and the time Ivan convinced Sua that her dolls were alive and were going to eat her. Sua chokes him when he brings up that memory.
It all, subjectively, goes smoothly.
“We’re almost there,” Ivan notes, staring at the signage indicating their location. “Up up, let’s go.”
Sua gets up. She grabs her bag and turns to look at Mizi. “Bye, Mizi.”
Mizi blushes. “Bye!”
They go down one at a time, Sua first and then Ivan. Before he steps off, though, he turns his back and his gaze lingers on Mizi.
“Sorry, there’s been an issue. We’ll have to wait a few minutes.” The bus driver — Hyuna, she reminds herself — says.
Ivan and Sua are still at the bus stop. They’re sitting on the seats.
Mizi can make out a bit of their conversation on the ground. It goes like so:
“She doesn’t remember, doesn’t she?” Ivan asks. His voice isn’t that loud, but Mizi can make out what he’s saying even when he’s outside the bus.
Sua grumbles, raising her hand and shutting his mouth. “Shut up. Isn’t it obvious? You’re… You’re the only person I know that remembers.”
Ivan licks her hand. “You’re disgusting, honestly,” Sua grumbles, shaking her hand away and wiping it on Ivan’s pristine blazer. He snickers.
“The issue has been resolved. Sorry about that.”
The bus door closes. It moves forward.
Ivan’s oddly familiar, too.
_____
Mizi opens her eyes to find that she’s in a shallow lake.
There’s fishes — robotic? — swimming around. She’s holding one herself. Someone laughs from behind her. It’s a girl, almost an exact replica of Sua. Younger, though. Maybe it is Sua.
“You’re so strong!” Sua cheers.
“Of course I am!” Mizi responds automatically.
Sua pushes up her glasses and starts flexing her muscles. It makes Sua laugh so hard that there are tears rolling down her eyes.
“Let’s make some fish stew!” Mizi says. “I’m hungry. Let’s go eat!”
She laughs. “Which one do you want to do? Eat, or make some fish stew?”
Mizi thinks. On second thought, she is really hungry. “Let’s dish this fish. It was boring anyways. Let’s eat!”
They run off into the field, hand in hand, filled with bliss and no worries about the future. It’s relaxing.
Mizi wakes up smiling. She really should stop dreaming about Sua.
_____
Mizi gets a request on LINE just two days later. It’s from Ivan. She accepts.
‘Hi ^^’ the text reads. ‘It’s Ivan. Got your contact from Sua. Don’t tell her, though.’
‘hii!’ Mizi replies. She sends a sticker.
‘Sorry for texting out of the blue. Just wanna ask a few questions if that’s alright with you.’
‘its okay ^_^ what do u wanna ask?’ She sends.
‘I just wanted to know how long you’ve known Sua for. How you became friends. Anything related to that!’ Ivan responds, fast as lightning. He either has godly typing skills, or really good autocorrect.
Mizi frowns. Why does Ivan want to know?
‘hmm, well, ive known her for sometime. i think about a year. we only rlly started talking last month. she let me borrow her scarf and when i tried to give it back she said it was for me. but then the bus left so i was stuck in her area, and she invited me for some tea, and that was that.’ Mizi texts.
It takes a moment for him to text back. ‘Interesting. Has she ever acted weird? Or… Let’s just say, odd?’
Mizi furrows her brows. If she really thinks about it, then yeah, most of their interactions were pretty odd. It’s like Sua knows a lot about Mizi even before anyone has told her anything about it. It’s whatever, though.
She’s slow as she types in, ‘i guess, not in a bad way ofc! shes really sweet!!!!!’
‘Care to elaborate?’
She’s just so familiar. ‘well, i feel like ive known her for a while. like a childhood friend or something. thats about it, honestly.’
‘Hm. Okay. That’s nice.’
Mizi feels more lost. ‘why’d u ask?’
‘Don’t know. Popped up in my head. You see, it’s just odd that she goes out of her way for you.’
What does he mean by that? ‘aw, that’s sweet! but wdym?”
‘It’s just that she goes out of her way for you. She gave you that gray scarf, right? Even though it’s her favorite, and even though she spent hundreds on it. And she takes the bus every Friday, even though we have a driver.’
Huh. That’s… News to Mizi. She stares at her screen, dazed. Why would Sua go out of her way to do all of that for her? It’s not like they’re that close or anything. Mizi might have a slight crush on her, but it’s just because she’s really pretty.
‘im not sure, sorry! i just knew that myself.’
‘It’s okay.’
Mizi thinks their conversation ends there. But just a beat later, a ding comes out of her phone. It’s Ivan. Again.
‘Say, do you believe in reincarnation?’
‘hmm, it’s possible, i think! why??’
It takes even longer for Ivan to respond this time. But when he does respond, it’s only 5 simple words: ‘No reason in particular. Thanks.’
Their conversation ends there, but Mizi can’t help but think about it for the rest of the week.
_____
Mizi’s got an odd feeling about Sua.
Mizi has got an odd feeling about everything, really, but it’s especially prominent with Sua. She knows things before even getting to know Sua. She guesses Sua’s favorite foods without even talking to her, and knows what her favorite type of music is before she even introduces it. It’s like it’s a default knowledge for Mizi. She feels astray in life, more often than not. It’s terrifying.
When Mizi dreams this time, more often than not, she dreams about flowers.
Not just any flowers. The same ones. Pink flowers. They bloom in her dream. A picture of Sua’s face. Blood on the ground. And then she’d wake up, sweat pooling in her pillow, tears streaking down her face.
She had to google the flowers she saw in her dreams. Clematis, as it turns out. Symbolizes aspirate, and ingenuity, and a bunch of other things she doesn’t understand.
It’s almost weird how sudden Sua came crashing into her life. Now everything is just Sua. When she dreams, she dreams of Sua. When she opens her eyes, she wonders what Sua is up to. Almost like a parasite; one you cannot get away from.
If someone as lovely as Sua was a parasite, then Mizi would gladly let herself be infected.
_____
It’s been almost two months since the cafe incident.
She really should be paying Sua back by now. It’s only what’s necessary, really, considering the mountains of favours Sua has done for her. So she pulls out her phone from where it’s charging besides her and invites Sua over to eat.
They settle in a cafe. Not too far from Sua’s area. Not too far from Mizi’s either, so she takes a bus there.
When Mizi spots Sua, sitting by the window, she momentarily gapes.
Mizi’s always known Sua was beautiful. But she looks ethereal right now. She’s wearing a white off the shoulder top, and her hair is down instead of up. Her usual star hairclips are replaced with white bows. She’s pretty.
“Hi!” Sua smiles. It makes Mizi’s heart skip a beat. She looks down at her brown coat. There’s a stain on the hem. She spent an hour getting ready and she still feels underdressed.
“Hi! You look amazing!” She tries to say, but the words all jumbled up and it comes out more like the last croak of a dying frog. Sua laughs though, so even if Mizi embarrasses herself, at least she can make Sua laugh.
“Thank you. You look pretty too,” Sua smiles. Then, she handed Mizi the menu. “What would you like to order?”
Mizi scans the menu. Kimchi jjigae sounds good, but dumpling soup sounds good as well. She furrows her brows, raising her fingers and shaking them randomly to pick the one she wants.
“I’d like dumpling soup,” Mizi says when her finger lands on dumpling soup, still scanning the menu, “and some bubble tea.”
“Huh. Aren’t you cold getting that much bubble tea?” Sua laughs. Mizi hands the menu over to Sua to check. “I’d like some radish soup. And bubble tea as well, I guess.”
“I’ll call a waiter over. It’s on me, by the way.”
“We can split the bill.” Sua reassures. Mizi aggressively shakes her head.
“Nope,” she says. You’ve paid beforehand. It’s my turn now.” She grins.
“Oh. I should’ve ordered Wagyu instead, then,” Sua laughs. It’s the sweetest voice Mizi’s ever heard.
The restaurant is busy, so it takes a while to get to order, and it takes even longer to wait for the food to come. Sua proposes a guessing game. It goes like so:
“What colour would I dye my hair?” Mizi asks first. Sua props her head up on her arm.
A second later, she responds, “Blue, but only on the ends.”
Bingo. That’s… Scarily accurate. It’s endearing, though, so Mizi smiles and congratulates her. It’s Sua’s turn next, and she takes a while to come up with a question. Mizi can see the gears in her head running.
“What’s my favorite shape?” She asks.
“Stars!” Mizi answers straight away. “You have star hair clips, and there’s a star emoji on your socials.”
“I love stars. They’re really pretty. Your turn.”
Mizi thinks for a second. “Hm. What color are my walls?”
Sua purses her lips. “White. I don’t know, most people have white walls, don’t they?”
“Wrong! Mine is beige.”
“Same thing,” Sua grins, her gaze focused on the little window at the restaurant, just infront of their seat. “They have really pretty flowers, don’t they?”
“They do! I love flowers.”
They spend a moment observing the flowers outside. It’s beautiful, almost peaceful somehow. There’s plum blossoms littered about. It makes it seem like they’re in a picture perfect romance movie.
Suddenly, a thought pops up into her head. Clematis flowers. The thing she’s been dreaming about for the past few weeks.
“ — Clematis flowers.”
Sua frowns. “Huh?”
Mizi’s face heats up in embarrassment. “Clematis flowers,” she repeats, slower this time, “they’re your favorite, aren’t they?”
“Yeah,” Sua says. She pauses. “How did you know?”
There’s a beat of silence.
“I didn’t,” Mizi admits. “I just… Had a feeling.”
There’s another beat of silence. Longer, this time. Almost suffocating.
The food arrives just then. It breaks the tension in the air. The conversation switches over to school, homework, and other things in life. She does not bring up clematis flowers, nor does she bring up any of the dreams she’s been having. She lets it all pass. There’s no use in pondering.
_____
When Mizi closes her eyes and tucks herself in her light green covers, she dreams about a girl.
Sua, she wants to croak out, when her eyes land on the girl beside her.
It’s Sua. She’s sure of it. But her hair is down, not tied up, and she’s wearing a white dress instead of her perfectly ironed blazer. Mizi’s body reacts on its own, out of control, and Mizi can hear herself singing even though she isn’t. Like she’s just spectating, but inside of her own body.
Sua’s singing beside her, beautiful, angelic and surreal. She looks down to see a crowd of creatures cheering in front of them. The stage creaks below her steps when she sings.
Run, Mizi wants to scream. Sua’s singing is beyond angelic, but there’s something creepy about it, too. A sense of dread fills her chest. They need to run.
But Mizi’s body moves on its own. She sings too. She can hear herself singing alongside Sua. A warmth fills her body. She is going to die.
Mizi can’t make out the words they’re singing, except for one: clematis. A flower. She’s always liked how they looked.
They’ve stopped singing now. This is a nice dream.
She’s focused on Sua now. She’s always looked so beautiful. So elegant. The most angelic being on earth.
There’s a gunshot. Pierces through Sua. The blood splatters all over her face. She drops onto the ground.
And then, the dream stops. Abruptly.
Mizi opens her eyes. Still dreaming. No light green covers.
Instead, she opens her eyes to Sua’s corpse, bleeding all over the ground. But Sua’s blinking. She’s alive. Mizi needs to find help. Mizi needs to save her, to do something and —
“It’s your fault,” Sua smiles, blood spilling out of her throat. Like splashes of paint. “Your fault. Your fault. Your fault, your fault, your fault, your fault, your fault—“
Mizi screams. She’s in control of her body now, so she tries to cover the wound on Sua’s body. The blood spreads all around her palm.
“Sua. I’m so sorry, don’t — don’t die, I’ve got you, I —”
“I love you,” Sua smiles. The blood still flows out her mouth. “I’ve always loved you. And you don’t even remember me.”
Then, she stills. Mizi screams, scrambling to save her. The blood’s pooling by now, staining her dress, but she couldn’t care less about that, not when Sua’s dead, not when she’s dead and it’s all her fault and —
Mizi wakes up with tears rolling down her cheeks. She gasps when she opens her eyes, sweat trickling down her forehead. There’s a ringing in her ears. Aliens. Alien Stage. My Clematis. Ivan. Till. Hyuna, Luka, Isaac and Dewey and —
It all makes sense. She remembers everything .
Then, she passes out.
_____
When Mizi blinks and wakes up, it’s the middle of the day.
She scrambles to get her glasses and phone, immediately opening up LINE to call Sua over to meet up.
They meet up at a lake, peaceful and serene and empty, half an hour or so from Mizi’s house. Mizi spends the commute there wondering what to say to Sua. She has a feeling Sua knows already, somehow, one way or another. It makes it easier to explain that way, but…
It’s hard to face the person you’ve lost once. Mizi’s memory of Alien Stage is blurry; bits and pieces connect, conclusions are drawn. . One thing for sure, and it’s Sua’s death. How can she face the woman she’s loved and lost and loved again? How can she face her, knowing Mizi forgot her for years, up until now. She wasn’t able to remember her. She wasn’t able to save her. What good is a person who isn’t able to save the love of their life?
She arrives at the lake late, stomach aching and heart beating fast. Sua’s there by then, early as always, beautiful as always. It makes her heart ache even more.
“Sua,” Mizi whispers. “Sua.”
Sua turns over and spots Mizi. “Hi. What’s wrong?”
Mizi flushes, hand creeping up at the bottom of her neck, scratching. She doesn’t know what to say. So she settles for a simple ‘hello’ back.
They sit at a park, feeding the ducks with scraps of bread Mizi found in her cupboard. She draws in her breath.
“Sua,” Mizi starts, slowly. She is still feeding the ducks when she starts to speak. Her confidence dies midway and she pauses, thinking. “Do you.. Do you believe in reincarnation?”
Sua stares at Mizi, taken aback. It’s the worst expression she’s ever seen on Sua and Mizi’s breath hitches when her eyes land on Sua’s. A pause. Then, “why?”
Mizi tries to find an excuse. “I… Well, do you?”
Suddenly, Sua stands up. Mizi follows. “You remember, don’t you?” Sua bites. It’s bitter and it’s sad, but her voice sounds too clipped, too quiet, like she’s hiding something from Mizi.
Mizi reaches out to touch Sua’s cheek. She caresses it softly. Sua releases a shaky breath. Belatedly, Mizi realises she’s crying.
“You remember your previous life, don’t you?” Sua sighs.
“I do,” Mizi says. She’s cupping Sua’s face now, wiping away her tears. “I… Parts of it. Most of it. I remember our singing. I remember Hyuna, Ivan and Till. I remember… I remember losing you. But I also remember loving you so hard that it made my chest hurt, sometimes,” Mizi confesses.
“I…” Sua starts, stopping midway, at a loss for words. She opens her mouth up to speak again, only to close it and hug Mizi tightly. Mizi jolts back when she hugs her, out of balance. “I’m sorry for leaving you. I just wanted to protect you.”
“It’s okay,” Mizi says. Her cheeks feel wet now. Her arms drop from where they are cupping Sua’s cheek to her lower back, hugging her tighter now. “Please. Don’t leave me again. I still love you. Do you —”
“I do.” Sua promises, laughing wetly, leaning back to caress Mizi’s cheek. “I promise you I won’t leave. I loved you in that universe, and I love you in this one, too.”
“I’m sorry, Sua,” Mizi hiccups, holding Sua tighter, like she’ll fade if she doesn’t. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”
“You did. You saved me from feeling all alone.”
Then, Sua tilts Mizi’s head downwards and places a soft kiss on her lips. She kisses slowly, softly, like they’re in their own world. The world stops when she’s with Sua. It’s just them, together.
Then, Sua pulls back. “How did you remember?”
“Had a dream. You died, and then a headache, and then I… I just did. I knew.”
Sua smiles. “I was born with the memories of my previous life. Ivan too.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that all alone.” Mizi whispers. “I wish I could’ve remembered earlier.”
“We have plenty more time now. We’ll make up for the time we lost together. No use in crying over spilt milk.”
“I’ll just have to cherish you for longer.” Mizi decides.
Then, she leans down and kisses Sua, content with the knowledge of much more years left with her to come.