Chapter Text
Whenever Sunoo thinks back to where it all started, he assumes it has to have been the night of the summer festival.
He used to go every year with Jay, Heeseung, and their families when they were younger. The first time they went together, when Sunoo was five, they had watched masked performers tell a story of the magic that flows through the nature around them. In the play, there was a boy who wore a fox mask that could talk to the stream. The stream would listen, its current surging when the boy cried or grew angry. It became his sanctuary whenever the people around him didn’t understand him. One night, the stream promised to grant him one wish, but only when the boy was ready for the changes it would bring. It became a ritual for him each night to whisper not only his grievances but also his secret hopes to the water.
Sunoo can’t remember whose idea it was, but later that night, as everyone else was lighting lanterns to mark the end of the festival, the three of them each scrawled a wish of their own onto a patterned piece of origami paper. Heesesung had shown them how to fold paper boats earlier that day at the craft table, and they all followed the same pattern to fold up the papers that held their wishes. Jay led the way to the bank of the stream that flowed alongside the park, slightly removed from the fesitivities of the night, and they all crouched down against the water.
“It’s like we’re wishing to the stream, too, now,” seven-year-old Heeseung had whispered as they released their paper boats into the water, the patterned surface of the origami paper glistening against the light of lanterns and fireworks overhead. The last thing Sunoo remembered from that night was a trail of fireflies following the boats as they floated downstream, as though keeping watch over their wishes.
He doesn’t remember what he wished for then. Maybe something childish, like wanting the fireworks to last forever. Maybe something smaller, more real, like wanting to see his friends again soon. By now, though, that had been over ten years ago.
Over time, their group had shifted, accumulating more people. Jay, still just as loud and impossible to shut up, had roped in two of his classmates: Jake, whose easy laughter made it seem like he’d never had a bad day, and Sunghoon, who kept to himself but showed up to everything anyway. Jungwon, Sunoo’s neighbor and close friend, had joined not long after, and then invited Ni-ki, who had just moved to their neighborhood. Heeseung had tried to back out, claiming he still had to unpack after coming home from college, but Sunoo’s whining wore him down in the end.
This year, the festival was louder, more people flocked around the stalls. They’d quickly gotten tired of navigating the crowds and wandered off to a grassy area nearby, close to the stream Sunoo still loved. Jay had been loudly telling his friends how Sunoo still wrote wishes every year, grinning as if it were the funniest thing in the world. Sunghoon and Jake snickered, nudging each other. Heeseung rolled his eyes at them but said nothing.
“Don’t listen to Jay,” Sunoo huffed, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead like a tragic victim. “He lives to slander me. My wish is for him to get a real hobby.” Sunoo clasped his hands together as though sending a prayer to Jay, and Jake doubled over laughing, practically falling over in the grass. Jungwon just sent Sunoo a knowing smile. Sunoo pointedly looked away, pretending that he had not, in fact, asked Jungwon for origami paper that morning with the intent of writing down a wish during the festival. Ni-ki was watching the fireflies intently as their lights started to glow in the hazy dusk. It didn’t seem like he was paying attention to any of them until he quietly spoke, almost as if talking to himself.
“Wishes only come true to those who are ready for the change, anyway,” he mused, gaze still fixated on the grass.
Sunoo blinked at him. He couldn’t tell if Ni-ki had meant to be heard, or if he’d just been thinking out loud.
“I think everyone in this world is ready for Jay to get a new hobby,” Sunoo declared with a yawn, stretching out onto his back.
“Excuse me? I play guitar. That is a hobby.”
“One that you’re evidently not very invested in, seeing as you still rely on defaming my character for entertainment.”
“Is it defamation of character if it’s true, though?” Jungwon asked, looking up at them innocently.
Jay looked delighted at Jungwon chiming in, while Sunoo gave him a chilling smile that somehow felt more threatening than an actual death glare.
“Guys,” Heeseung interrupted, tone gentle but firm. “The fireworks are starting.”
Sure enough, a fountain of golden sparks erupted into the sky overhead at his words. Ni-ki finally looked up from where he was watching the fireflies to take notice of the display lighting up the sky against the last remnants of sunset. Jake started cheering loudly, and Sunghoon looked as though he was contemplating whether to join Jake or pretend that they didn’t know each other. Jay finally went quiet, lying down in the grass next to Jungwon. The occasional cheer from the rest of the festival crowd was faintly audible from further down the hill. Sunoo sat cross-legged, hugging his knees to his chest.
“They’re so pretty,” he marvelled as violets and electric blues burst against the darkening sky, reflections dancing in his eyes.
Sunghoon didn’t even look up. “The air quality’s going to tank for a week.”
Sunoo’s mouth twitched. “Thanks for ruining the moment.”
Jake pointed to the sky. “That one looked like a dragon!”
No one responded. He looked around sheepishly, and Sunoo smiled at him, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Jake turned his attention to Sunghoon, who was now scrolling through something on his phone with one earbud in.
“How are you on your phone right now?” Jake chastised him.
“Noise gives me a headache,” Sunghoon mumbled. “Music helps.”
“I brought tea if anyone wants some.” Jungwon pulled out a thermos from his bag, offering it to the rest of them. Sunghoon looked up from his phone but declined, while Ni-ki took the thermos with quiet thanks. Jungwon’s eyes flicked toward Sunoo for a second, like he was silently asking if he was okay. Sunoo gave a small nod, even though he wasn’t sure if the question was real or just imagined.
Sunoo tried to focus on the fireworks, on the trail of sparks that bloomed and scattered like petals in the sky, but his eyes kept drifting sideways. Jay and Jungwon lay shoulder to shoulder in the grass, murmuring something low and indistinct. Jake and Sunghoon sat close by, Jake’s chatter standing out against Sunghoon’s disengaged silence. Ni-ki seemed content to watch the sky, absorbed in his own thoughts. And then there was Heeseung, off to the side. His arms were folded behind his head, eyes fixed upward in a faraway expression, like he wasn't fully there.
Sunoo’s mind flickered back to that night when he was five, the rush of laughter as they chased each other through food stalls, Jay’s hand wrapped around his wrist as they ran toward the fireworks, Heeseung showing him how to fold the paper just right so their boats would float, not sink. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was slipping just out of reach. He looked around again and realized no one was really looking at each other. He briefly wondered if growing up just meant learning how to be surrounded by people and still feel a little lonely.
As the night drew on, no one noticed Sunoo briefly withdrawing from the rest of the group. He had pulled out the origami paper from his pocket and pressed it against the base of a tree to write a fleeting message before meticulously folding it under the light of the fireworks overhead. No one, that is, except for Ni-ki, whose eyes followed the trail of fireflies that seemed to follow Sunoo as he retreated to the bank of the stream.