Archive of Our Own ^beta

One: 

If person A confesses to person B during the first snowfall, the two of them will become lovers.

-❆-

It’s a little ironic, truth be told. All of it. Their song (and album) is called “Hot,” and yet Kazuha is absolutely freezing.

Like “Easy”, the little Kazuha-voice inside her Kazuha-head babbles. It’s called that, but the choreo? Not easy!

(Funnily enough—and really, rather adorably—lately, that little voice seemed more and more like it was coming from her Zuharong character. It had taken shape recently, like a Pokemon finally evolved and emerging out from its silhouette. Like her inner monologue now possessed an actual form that it spewed out from: a perpetually-smiling cartoon samoyed with abs and a knack for yoga.)

Yep. Definitely Kazuha.

The Japanese girl hugs her parka tighter to herself, shivering.

“Our next song should be called ‘Cold.’ That way we’ll be somewhere warm.” She says, almost whining. 

Yunjin, from her spot crouched down and doodling in the snow, laughs.

“You say that, but if we were somewhere hot, you’d be complaining just the same about the heat.” She teases, switching her voice to a whiny tone that imitates Kazuha. “It’s so hooottttt. I’m too sweaty! Is my face red? Do I smell bad? I need some water. Unnieeeee!”

Kazuha shoves the tip of her boot weakly into the older girl’s torso. Really just out of playful spite, and with no real threat behind it at all. Though not that it would matter anyway. Yunjin is all puffy and shielded in her matching parka, but Kazuha’s gentle assault is enough to tip her the tiniest bit, and she wobbles. 

“You’re so mean,” the younger girl accuses. “It’s not my fault I get cold easily!”

“You’re right, it’s not.” Yunjin seems to relent, though the lilt of her voice is cheeky, and far from innocent. “But it is your fault that you’re so whiny about it.”

Kazuha hmphs, crossing her arms when a particularly-frigid gust of wind passes through and makes her teeth chatter. “Fine then. I’ll just never speak again.”

“So dramatic.” Yunjin giggles, standing back up. “Please don’t do that, though. I want you to keep speaking forever.” 

She dusts small, fluffy remnants of snow off the dress she’s still wearing from their music video shoot. And, combined with the way her mouth is darker from her lipstick and also the cold, Kazuha’s chest feels like it aches.

“Why?” She asks, still slightly huffy.

“Because,” Yunjin says, readjusting her accessory veil. “I like it when you speak.”

Kazuha shifts her eyes. She tended to do that a lot with Yunjin. Especially when the older girl said things like that. It was hard to hold eye contact with her. Kazuha always felt like her face was being set on fire when they looked at each other for too long without saying anything. 

“I don’t have nearly as many interesting things to say as you do, unnie.” The younger girl laughs hollowly, scratching faintly at the nape of her neck. That kind of laugh like when you don’t know how to accept a compliment. Like too much attention is on you and it’s very nice but at the same time it’s making your heart swell up too much that you’re starting to get nervous.

“Yes, you do.” Yunjin replies. “Though you do it in your own way. Verbal isn’t the only form of communication, you know.” Tiny snowflakes flutter around them slowly, with the snowfall having tapered out a while ago, and Yunjin wiggles her fingers gently in the air, as if to pet and catch them. 

“Language exists in all sorts of ways. All sorts of mediums. Like how art isn’t just paintings.”

She hums a little at the end of her sentence, grinning softly at the baby tufts of snow on her fingertips. Her words are casual. Her body is warm and carefree. 

Of course it is, Kazuha thinks. Because it’s Yunjin. Because it’s Yunjin, who just says things like that. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world. And maybe it is, for her. Maybe it’s different, when you have a mind like hers and a body that works with it in tangent. Dropping little blurbs and sentences that fall like the first line of a beautiful essay or an enchanting seminar.

Yunjin was always accidentally a poet, even in the small moments. And the small moment is right now. And the small moment is the cold. And the small moment is the snowy beach, and the cameras and the dresses, and the beret Kazuha is wearing, and the clock that’s close to one in the morning. Things that are only small details and will become forgotten with time, and probably quickly, at that. Fuzzy until all that’s left is a tickle that says Yes, I think that’s what happened. I think that was it. Things like that gradient in the sky and how the moon is in its first-quarter phase; the empty bird’s nest in that one tree and the peeling bark just below it. The table that’s been wobbly all day on-set, and the broken phone charger that, for some reason, they don’t just toss out. The makeup brush that’s a little extra ticklish, and the way that brush has done Yunjin’s makeup and her touch-ups every few hours later. 

Her makeup, with the deep pinks and the blush; the whole sun-kissed look, across the apples of her cheeks and her nose and her lips and god, even across her collarbones and the tippy top of her chest, so all that skin looks extra flushed and rosy, but not the rest of her face, which looks paler and softer in comparison. Pale enough for the makeup artist to cover up Yunjin’s beauty marks, but really not really, because Kazuha still knows where they are, can still graze them and point them out if asked; and soft enough for Kazuha’s hands to itch from it, because she wants to touch. Wants to hold. Wants to trace her thumb there and feel the warmth of it; the supple bounciness of Yunjin’s cheek and the springiness of the cartilage in her nose. 

And it’s her nose. And it’s her mouth. And it’s her jaw and it’s her neck; her ears and her hair. Bride’s veil dangling from it, and—there’s her lips again, flashing in Kazuha’s mind like it’s under a strobe, and Kazuha’s stomach rolls and rolls and rolls.

She nods, knowing she’s walking into a conversation she’ll be unable to keep up with. And not even by her own volition or anything, but really only because Yunjin is too smart, in that eloquent way. And hell, maybe Kazuha is smart too—Yunjin always tells her she is—but she’s really fucking shit at expressing it properly, and so all she says is—

“Right.”

She shoves her hands deeper into her pockets, frowning at herself.

Yunjin can’t help but grin at the sight, finding the Japanese girl so, so fucking cute.

“Wanna make snow angels?” She says, eyes peppy and bright.

 Kazuha looks pleadingly at her, almost gawking.

“How are you not freezing?” She replies, which is code for Yes, but let me be whiny about it first.

Yunjin shrugs. “Used to it, I guess. It snowed all the time in New York, during the winter.”

She crouches down again, sitting on the snow and brushing some hair away from her eyes.

“Have you ever made a snow angel before?” She asks, looking up at the younger girl, all sparkly and smiley.

“I think so.” Kazuha replies, and her knees feel weak under those eyes, and so she bends down to sit. “I think I made one when I was little.”

Yunjin smiles. “Man, I wish I could’ve seen that. A baby-Kazuha snow angel.” She coos, pouting and squishing the corners of her mouth a little, as if gazing upon a puppy. “Imagine how tiny it must have been.”

“Yes. Well,” Kazuha blushes, feeling a warm wave bloom across her face. “I’m much bigger now. It won’t be nearly as small.”

“Ooouu,” Yunjin wiggles her eyebrows. “Sounds like a competition.”

“Absolutely not.” Kazuha shakes her head. “Not when you’re a sore loser.”

Yunjin laughs, knowing Kazuha is fully jibing given the fact that they’re the two most easy-going when it comes to games, and then she lays back into the snow. Kazuha mirrors her, and the two of them share quiet, soft giggles while imprinting their angels into the snow. 

When they sit up to compare, it’s pretty much a tie. Yunjin has a longer torso, but Kazuha has longer limbs. What she lacks in length—which, honestly, isn’t very much at all, to begin with—she makes up for in wingspan. 

“Alright, alright.” Yunjin calls it, surrendering. “Fine. You win. I’ll let you have it since you’re sacrificing yourself to even be out here with me, in the cold and all.”

Kazuha blushes again.

“I have to be out here. We’re shooting for the video.” She fumbles out, because she can never just say what she means, which is that Yes, she is freezing her ass off but saw the snow and saw Yunjin and saw hearts all over it and so she’d gone after the older girl when she’d bolted.

“Yes, but you could’ve stayed back, closer to the crew. Or on one of those little chairs right by the heaters.” Yunjin shoots back, because she never lets Kazuha off the hook that easily. And because she can’t do what she usually does, which is pin Kazuha down, by her shoulders or her arms or her hips, and stare at her with a smirk or a pout—whichever she’s in the mood for—until Kazuha is stuttering and blushing and admitting that Yunjin is right. 

Kazuha gulps. 

“Okay, so maybe I’m a little guilty.” She relents, because yes, she’s shy, but not shy enough to pretend she doesn’t want to give Yunjin exactly what she wants. 

Yunjin smiles. 

(Kazuha didn’t know there were two suns?)

She nearly slaps herself at the cheesy and all-too-mushy thought, blushing and shaking her head at her own pathetic, awful loser-ness. 

“Don’t worry.” Yunjin nudges her, giggly. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Kazuha can’t resist Yunjin’s smiling face—it was just so fucking pretty—and so she starts giggling, too.

“Oh good,” she pretends to wipe her brow in relief. “How will I ever repay you?”

Yunjin bites softly on the bottom-corner of her lip, eyes flickering down to Kazuha’s lips and then across her body in a way that makes the Japanese girl flash hot and fast, despite being in the middle of the open snow.

“I’m sure we can work something out.” The older girl says, low and liquid, slightly salacious and entirely cynical—this woman knows what she’s doing—before winking at Kazuha then lying back down.

God, how that voice and that wink and those teeth and those hands and just everything about her are gonna be the death of Kazuha…

She shakes herself out of a daze before it can even start. She wants to roll on top of Yunjin and kiss her. Shove that parka off her neck and suck and bite there. Wants to love her so hard their angels melt away and all that’s left instead is the shapes and shadows of them in the snow.

But—oh yeah. Kazuha is not the brave one. 

Oh yeah. Again, she says nothing. And simply lies back down, too.

They rest there, shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the starry sky.

“I used to make snow angels all the time with my siblings, back home.” Yunjin tells. “We’d sneak off in the middle of the night. And have snowball fights and stuff, at the park. It was always empty and there was lots of snow, so it was perfect.”

Kazuha makes a soft humming sound.

“Central Park?” She asks, because it’s kind of the only one she knows.

Yunjin snickers fondly.

“No, aegi.” She replies. “Central Park is almost three hours away from my hometown.”

“Albany.” Kazuha chimes in, almost as if Yunjin was reading off of a study flashcard that Kazuha needed to prove she knew by heart.

The older girl smiles.

“Yes.” She affirms. “Albany.”

A satisfied purr curls and rumbles in Kazuha’s chest.

A small satisfaction. Because a complete one cannot exist; not when there are other people just a few doors and feet away, and Kazuha is a chicken. 

She stares at the sky, her heart thumping loud and hard in her chest. Her lips feel cold on her face, hands too stiff, breaths coming out in these trembly, white-puffy trails. That feeling, like she feels guilty for being so close to Yunjin and doing absolutely nothing about it, overtakes her, the way it sometimes does. 

Which is strange, and funny, in a way, when you consider she has no real reason. Yunjin wasn’t like that. Yunjin never made her feel obligated to do anything. Never made Kazuha feel like she needed to swipe kisses in between takes and touch her in secret in the empty stairway, or else it wasn’t real. 

But maybe that was it. The problem wasn’t that Yunjin wanted Kazuha to be bold and she wasn’t; the problem was that Kazuha wanted Kazuha to be bold, and she wasn’t. And that was harder. Trickier. Loads more frustrating and jumbled, like a tangle of wires. 

She feels it—that feeling, all raw and intense. That visceral feeling, of wanting something so badly, of knowing exactly what you want to do and having all the means for it, and then just… not doing it. The ache of it, the visions that come with it, of seeing exactly how it would play out, seeing exactly how happy it could be, if you’d just go for it.

But Kazuha—she never does. She’s sore by the time she goes to bed, muscles weary and too tight from holding back all day. Action always on the tips of her fingers but never actually lurching forward. 

The silence while she falls asleep fills steadily: the echoes of everything she’d done in a day just so that she wouldn’t cave. Her forced giggling, and the fake-curiosity in her tedious questions. All so that she’d have somewhere to look. So that she’d have something to do, that wasn’t just thinking about throwing herself at Yunjin and kissing her senseless in front of everybody.

Kissing her senseless at all, because let’s be honest—she is holding back, even when they are alone.

In the halls. In the car. Late nights in Kazuha’s room. And she’s holding back.

And why, she barks at herself. A clone of Kazuha that grips her by the neck or the shoulders or the collar of her shirt and rattles her. Why do you do that? I know you want to. You know you want to. There is nobody here but her. Her clothes are halfway off and she’s beautiful and she’s warm and wanting, and she’s smiling at you. You have every green light in the world. Why do you stop yourself?

Her heart always feels like it starts leaking at this part, when she’s lying alone in the dark, awake and upset.

Because I’m afraid, she whispers. I’m afraid, and I don’t know of what. 

I don’t know if I’m afraid of loving her, or if I’m afraid of the fact that I want to, and already do.

Kazuha tries to breathe in these instances.

I’m afraid of everything.

You are, it whispers back.

Kazuha swallows something thick and dry.

When they’re performing, or at a fansign, and it’s hard for her to look Yunjin in the eye, and so she looks at Chaewon instead. And then a picture is taken. And then it circulates. And the likes rack up, and the hashtag trends, and the narrative is constructed, and now Kazuha likes Chaewon. Now it’s them with the chemistry. Them with something going on.

And Kazuha’s heart seizes. And Kazuha’s heart screams. Screams No. No no no. God fucking damn it.

And she waits. Waits, maybe, for the inevitable tear. For the moment where Yunjin grows tired and sends that message that says can we talk? The conversation that Kazuha knows will end with hearts in pieces and her never being the same again. 

But Yunjin… god, Yunjin… 

She never sends that message. Even when she’s an overthinker. Even if it might—and Kazuha is sure it does—hurt her. To the point where she’d break things off. 

But maybe, just maybe, it’s because she’s an overthinker, that she doesn’t. Because she thinks about it, and sees it from all the different perspectives, and one of them is eventually and indubitably Kazuha’s, and so she understands. Even if she doesn’t mean to. Even if it would be so much easier to not understand; so much easier to just let her heart be ripped out and broken and then break Kazuha’s in return. Because then at least there would be a bad guy in the story. At least there would be an ending.

All of these thoughts tumble, like wet glue between fingers, being held in her bare hands—into Kazuha’s mind, on late nights alone. And then—when all of it has already crashed on the shore; when the tide is pulling back into the sea, it settles. Kazuha feels it, low and deep.

Regret. 

Always and forever. At the very end, it’s all she feels. Regret, for not doing more that day. For not holding Yunjin’s hand just a bit longer. For not saying sweeter words. For not offering her jacket, because their managers were there. For not accepting the tiny flower Yunjin had picked and offered her, because there was always a fansite or two around this part of the city.

She regrets everything. And yet—she does it all, all over again, the very next day.

I’m afraid, she says again. I’m afraid because I love her, and I’m doing it all wrong.

Coward. She always tells herself, because she thinks she deserves to have it be the last thing she hears before she falls asleep. Coward. You coward.

Yunjin deserves someone better—

“Zuha-ya.” 

Kazuha startles.

Yunjin’s voice cuts into her reverie, and she snaps out of it.

Right. The snow. Their music video. Yunjin right beside her.

The older girl’s hand finds Kazuha’s.

Yunjin brushes her thumb across the back of it. 

“Stay with me.” She says softly. “We’re right here.”

Yunjin. Smart, beautiful, shining Yunjin. She can tell when Kazuha is spiraling. When she goes quiet, unmoving. Blank and a bit cold. The opposite of Yunjin. Frantic. Restless. Murmuring constantly and fidgeting with her hair.

Kazuha closes her eyes. Lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. Her body relaxes gently; shoulder blades unpulling, face softening. Her chest pinches just a bit less, and her fingers feel warm when Yunjin tucks their hands into the pocket of her parka.

We’re right here.

And Kazuha breathes. Because it’s true. They are. She doesn’t need to be thinking about an ending when they are still right here. 

People had always thought she and Yunjin were vastly different, in some ways. But maybe this is where they met. Where Yunjin worried about things that could happen, Kazuha worried about things that already had. Yunjin could see the end of the day; Kazuha could only ever look backwards once it was over. Yunjin took too long but made sure it was what she really wanted; Kazuha acted without thinking but then was stuck on all the stuff she’d done wrong.

It seemed opposite, on the surface. And maybe it was. But at the same time, maybe it wasn’t. Something fundamental and deeper fit together, between the two of them. At its very core, it was this: that neither one of them was ever truly focused on the present moment. And maybe it was these fears and insecurities, of theirs, that understood each other and sat at the same table, holding each other. And it should have been toxic. Unhealthy and disastrous. 

Except it wasn’t. Because these things weren’t feeding off of each other. Instead, they were trying to understand one another. Taking notes on what worked and what didn’t. Trying to figure out all the ways to soothe each other and nurture, when wind or an arrow or a shove comes and tips either one of them off-balance. 

It was always Yunjin bringing Kazuha back down. Helping her stay on the ground. It was always Kazuha bringing Yunjin away from the cliff. Helping her stay far from the edge.

Kazuha lets out a steady breath, her eyes fluttering to stare, a bit dreamily, up at the night sky. The same sky they’d seen hundreds of times. The same sky they teased Yunjin about, for taking so many pictures of it. 

The same sky she used to see in Japan. The same sky Yunjin used to see in New York.

Kazuha holds Yunjin’s hand tighter.

“Do you ever miss it?” She asks quietly.

Yunjin hums a little. “Sometimes. Some parts.”

“Like what?” Kazuha follows up with, because she wants to hear Yunjin’s voice forever, and they don’t have that. But they can make a tiny one, right now, before they’re called back. “What do you miss about it?”

It’s quiet for a moment, with Yunjin thinking. Her thumb traces little blind shapes into Kazuha’s skin, and Kazuha’s heart purrs.

“I miss it when nobody cared about me.” The ginger-haired girl answers. 

Kazuha’s face scrunches gently with curious confusion, intrigue and affection already consuming her. 

“What do you mean?” She coaxes softly, encouraging Yunjin to continue. She knows there’s more to it. Nothing in Yunjin’s mind was ever so simple. That’s what made it so stunning.

Yunjin huffs a breathy, short laugh. “It’s a little stupid.” She says. “I don’t know.”

No. Kazuha refuses. It’s not. 

She turns her head a little, looking at the side of Yunjin’s face. 

She squeezes the older girl’s hand gently, rolling the pad of her finger over the thin, bony skin of Yunjin’s knuckle. She presses softly into the fleshy dip between them, feeling Yunjin’s faint pulse there. 

Kazuha blinks at her, eyes lovestruck where Yunjin cannot see them. 

“Tell me.” She whispers. 

Yunjin blinks softly, the tender lilt of Kazuha’s voice making her stomach flutter. 

“That’s kind of what ‘Crazier’ was about.” She replies. “Remember how I wrote and produced it?”

A proud sort of swelling puffs up in Kazuha’s chest, and she swallows a grin. “Of course I do.” She says. “Huh PD-nim. You were incredible.”

Yunjin laughs. Quiet. Real. In tandem with that big, brilliant smile. And her little nose scrunch. And her glittery eyes. And Kazuha breaks.

“Why thank you.” The older girl replies, playful and warm. “But seriously. I don’t know if I ever really talked about it. I mean, we had our script for promotions. The whole ‘find something you can go crazy about, and just go for it’ thing, for the album. But… this song was different. I thought about it a lot, even after it was done.”

She pauses, moving around the tiniest bit so her parka ruffles against the snow. She turns her head to the side, meeting Kazuha’s eyes. Their noses are so close they nearly touch, and Kazuha feels her stomach patter upstairs to the house of her heart. Bang its little fists on the door, begging her to make a move.

“Do you wanna know what it was about?” Yunjin asks. Soft and hopeful.

Kazuha smiles tinily. “I’m sad you even have to ask.” 

Yunjin smiles, small and silent too. She doesn’t say anything to combat Kazuha’s teasing, which lets Kazuha know that it’s true—that she seems uninterested. And her chest pinches.

Yunjin turns back to look up at the sky.

She breathes out a soft sigh. “There’s a lot of luxury in a plain life.” She says, nearly whispering. “Being ordinary is probably the greatest gift you could ever have.” 

Kazuha strokes her thumb across Yunjin’s hand, not looking away from her.

“When I was writing the lyrics, that’s the message I was trying to send out. That’s really kind of what I was trying to say. Yes, it was about being passionate about something and going ‘crazy’ for it, but it was more than that. It wasn’t just about running wild and embracing what you love. It was about embracing the fact that you’re even allowed to love something at all. That you can act ‘crazy’ at all. That no one cares if you do. People get so fucking uptight about that, you know?”

Yunjin sits up then, still holding Kazuha’s hand. Kazuha follows suit without missing a beat, watching the older girl attentively and listening to her, completely enraptured.

“People get so uptight when you tell them no one cares what they do. They think it’s a bad thing. Or some sort of insult. But it’s like… don’t you get it? Don’t you see how lucky you are?” 

Yunjin is talking with her hands now—or one of them, at least—her face twisting and turning in all sorts of ways with her passion and frustration.

“You can be a little insane. You can be obsessive and strange. You can have screaming matches with people who piss you off, and cry nonstop when somebody breaks your heart. You can get into any relationship you want. Eat and drink whatever you please. You’re allowed to do all of these things, because nobody fucking cares. No one is watching you. No one is keeping track of all your faults. At the end of the day, you have only a tiny handful of people who give a fuck about whatever you do. … Do you get that? Do you even understand how much of a luxury that is?”

She pauses to take a long breath, then sighs. 

“That’s what I wanna say to them, I guess. Take it from someone who’s not allowed to do any of those things. From someone who needs to ask permission just to leave her room. Someone who needs to cover her face to step out of the building and walk across the street. I don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to do things that I couldn’t. I’ve walked through the airport, cameras flashing while I’m trying not to cry. I’ve wanted to yell at people. I’ve seen hate comments and wanted to respond with some equally-hateful bullshit. I’ve wanted to argue. Wanted to start a fight. Wanted to respond with Shut the fuck up and just call it a day. But I couldn’t. Obviously I couldn’t. I can’t do anything when I want to. But everyone else… Everyone listening to the song… you can.” 

Yunjin trails off slightly, sighing again while resting her chin on her knees. 

Her voice is a soft murmur for a second, her eyes a little dazed and locked on something far-off, as if she is speaking either to herself or to all of the people she is imagining. 

“You can…” She repeats quietly. “You don’t have to live with the scorn of a thousand people who will never know you. You can just be. So be crazy. Be insane and intense and passionate, and never let that go. Please don’t let that go.” 

Kazuha watches her, listening, her own breaths shallow and caught in her throat, like someone had reached in and snatched it from her when it was only halfway up. This breathless feeling—one that was always there in the aftermath of Huh Yunjin.

The older girl turns her head, resting her cheek gently on her knees and blinking at Kazuha through her thick lashes. 

She smiles wistfully. “That’s why I miss it back home. That’s what I mean. I miss who I was when I lived in New York. Just some random girl you see when you’re walking through the street. Nobody looked at me twice because they were all too busy. And nobody cared. I was someone who was still allowed to be me, because nobody cared. And I miss that.”

The tip of her thumb catches Kazuha’s fingers, and she plays softly with them. And that breathless feeling, the one that plagues Kazuha—it always comes with this other feeling, too. A frustration, almost, at herself. Because, again, she knows there is going to be nothing she can offer this conversation. At least nothing that would count as worthwhile, or as a substantial contribution. 

All she can do is listen, the way she always has. The way she has promised to always do. 

She shifts around a bit, pulling her knees up to her chest just like Yunjin. She gulps, quiet and thick in her throat while her eyes, unable to hold Yunjin’s stare because of how it makes her feel incredibly nervous even after all this time, dart away. She glances at their snow angels, then at the trees. The black seam of Yunjin’s parka and then the pale slope of her ear.

She gulps again, the feeling slow and warm like unflavored honey.

“Did you know penguins think everything else is a penguin, too?” She says suddenly. Her lips are shaky, skin frigid from the cold.

Yunjin blinks, lifting one eyebrow slightly in question.

“Like,” Kazuha plows on, that rambly feeling only fueled by the restlessness of when you’re cold. “They don’t see other animals as different animals, or even us as humans. They think we’re just a different species of penguin.”

Yunjin blinks again, stunned in an endeared way for half a moment, before she giggles softly. The sound of it does something to Kazuha, like it has crawled in and soothed everything that might have ever been wrong. 

Kazuha, like clockwork, melts.

“I’m serious!” She doubles-down, unable to stop the smile that breaks out onto her face at the older girl’s cute laughter. 

“I know you are, that’s what makes it so funny.” Yunjin replies, with a little shake of her head. “I’m just trying to figure out how I was so boring to you that you started daydreaming about your penguin research.”

Kazuha blushes, rolling her eyes while mumbling.

“Shut up. It’s not like that.” She bumps into Yunjin’s arm gently, flushing even deeper. “I just mean that… maybe I can be your penguin.” 

Yunjin’s giggling simmers down, her doe-eyes honed in on Kazuha; the older girl gives an inquisitive, puppy-like tilt of her head that makes Kazuha struggle to keep herself upright. 

“As in,” the Japanese girl begins to clarify, trying to think of the words. “Maybe I can see you as a different you, sometimes.”

She trails her eyes up; up, up, up, until they meet Yunjin’s. And she makes a conscious effort to keep her eyes there, swallowing down all the butterflies and scribbles that tell her to hide her face and run, because a pretty girl is staring.

She clears her throat gently, her gaze flickering for the briefest moment across Yunjin’s lips.

“Maybe…” She whispers, feeling her heart ache. “Maybe, when you need people to not care about you, I can see you as the Yunjin in New York.”

She pauses, heart carrying itself in time with the beat-and-drum inside of Kazuha city. A distant parade in the snowfall, with Yunjin’s face on all of the banners. 

“I mean…” Kazuha stumbles, voice a delicate, pinkish, adorable little near-squeak. “I can’t promise you that exactly, because… Well, I’ll still care about you. I can’t not care about you. Like ever. It’s just not gonna happen, okay? So technically you’ll have one person that still cares, but… I mean, the rest of it will still be intact. And the sentiment is still—... Oh, you know what I mean.”

She gives a slight, frazzled and huffy pout. One that makes all the valves of Yunjin’s heart tangle around it and squeeze.

Kazuha strokes her thumb across Yunjin’s knuckles, breathing.

“And I’ll even use your English name.” She adds, eyes twinkling softly in the starlight. “Jennifer. I’ll see you as Jennifer.”

Her mouth curls the tiniest bit, lips puckering to that little face she does. Eyes big and bright, laced with a gentle curiosity that steered her deft muscles and scrunchy smiles. 

Yunjin can only stare at her, admiring the younger girl in all her beautiful, beautiful charm. 

A grin lights up Yunjin’s face, her cheeks tinting pink, all at once. She feels almost dizzy with affection, Kazuha’s words and her efforts and her accidental artistry making it so that her name and her initials and her birthday and everything carves further into Yunjin’s already-lovesick heart.

The older girl leans in slightly to Kazuha.

“Hey.” She teases. “You like me, huh?”

Kazuha’s mouth slinks into a smile she’s unable to subdue. That gummy smile that tugged at the corners of her eyes and made the apples of her cheeks jut. 

“Yes.” She replies.

Yunjin mirrors her wide smile.

She squeezes Kazuha’s hand.

“How do penguins show affection?” She asks. “How would I say yes to you right now, if we were penguins?”

Kazuha blushes.

“Well…” She says. “Honestly, I don’t really know. I only know the thing they do where the boy penguin walks all over the beach looking for the prettiest, most perfect rock he can find so that he can present it to the girl penguin and she can choose whether or not to accept it. It’s like their way of proposing.”

Yunjin hums, mulling over the adorable fact inside her head. She taps her foot once, shoe hitting the fluff of snow. She looks thoughtful for a second, before it seems to strike.

She sits up straight, craning her neck to look this way and that. Finally, her eyes seem to land on what she’s looking for. It’s just the slightest bit out of reach, making her have to awkwardly shimmy over—consequently dragging Kazuha with her—and lunge for it. Then the older girl sits back up and dusts off said-fetched item with her free hand, cleaning it off as best she can.

She places it, carefully balanced, onto Kazuha’s bent-knee: a small, beautiful and weathered rock, the color of dark plums.

Kazuha’s heart thuds, jumping and babbling like it’s running over hurdles in the Olympics.

Yunjin lays her head on the younger girl’s shoulder.

“I like you, too.” She whispers.

Kazuha’s stomach flutters.

She reaches out with her free hand, picking up the rock and rolling it between her fingertips. 

She smiles softly at it, tucking it into her pocket. Then, maybe emboldened because she just got proposed to, or maybe just finally brave enough to do something, she turns and presses a kiss to the top of Yunjin’s head. 

Yunjin closes her eyes at the open affection, the feeling only unfolding and deepening when Kazuha rests the side of her head on top of Yunjin’s and leans into her.

They sit there together, but of course it takes only a moment before a staff member is calling for them to go back.

Yunjin sighs softly.

“Duty calls.” She says. Kazuha squeezes her hand and the two of them help each other stand up.

Yunjin dusts off her parka, adjusting her veil. Her ears perk at the sound of Kazuha’s giggling.

“What?” She can’t help but smile. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Kazuha defends, still grinning. “You just look really pretty. Like a runaway bride stranded on the beach.”

“A runaway bride? That’s exactly it. You got me.” Yunjin laughs, deciding to play along. “Getting caught in the snowstorm was my karma.” She pretends to weep, making it obnoxious and funny.

Kazuha laughs even more, clapping her hands a little with delight.

“Unnie! I’ll be your getaway.” She turns and crouches down a little, beckoning for Yunjin to jump on her for a piggyback ride. “Hurry! They’re on to us!”

Yunjin laughs, loud and so unbelievably Yunjin that Kazuha has to brace herself so she doesn’t fall to her knees and melt. 

“We’ll fall!” Yunjin panics. “The parkas are too slippery!”

“There’s no time to think about that!” Kazuha is relentless. “Just trust me!”

Yunjin acquiesces, yelping as she jumps onto Kazuha and clings for her dear life.

Kazuha adjusts her weight, miraculously keeping the ginger-haired girl in-place and just barely able to get the both of them to the door without Yunjin slipping off, just like she said. They’re still shedding giggles by the time they make it back inside, onto the set.

“There you are.” Chaewon says, only half-dismissive as she monitors her solo-scene. “Where did you two go?”

“We got married.” Yunjin replies, shrugging off her parka. 

“About time.” Sakura says, taking a seat next to their leader.

Kazuha flushes, feeling shy all over again.

“I can’t believe Zuha-unnie got married before me.” Eunchae huffs. 

“Really? You’re surprised?” Sakura rebuts. “Zuha-ya’s always seemed like the sappy type.”

“Not even. If anything, it’d be Yunjin-ah who gets married first.” Chaewon interjects. “She’s the biggest romantic out of the five of us.”

“She’s romantic, I’ll give her that.” Eunchae quips. “But she’d overthink the hell out of a proposal and end up chickening out.” 

“I actually think she’d be pretty good once her heart’s set.” Sakura adds. “But she always struck me as the type to never get married.”

Yunjin blinks, eyes darting between all the arguments. “Now how the hell did I end up becoming the target?”

“Oh, don’t be so huffy.” Chaewon laughs, playfully shoving her. “You’re just so easy to make fun of.”

Yunjin groans. She shoots Kazuha a pleading look. “Back me up here, won’t you?” She pouts.

Kazuha giggles, her other members turning to look at her as well.

“What’s it gonna be, Zuha-unnie?” Eunchae wiggles her eyebrows. “Are you whipped now that you have a wife?” 

“She was whipped even before,” Sakura scoffs.

“Or are you gonna play it cool and let your wife handle her own battles?” Chaewon taunts, laughing at Yunjin’s disgruntled glare.

Kazuha tucks her hand inside her pocket, pads of her fingers rolling over the purple stone.

She grins.

“Well… You know, maybe we could back off a little…”

-❆-

Two:

If you spend the first snowfall with your lover, you will have a long-lasting love.

-❆-

Because she’s the sunshine, and me—

No, that’s not it.

She’s so warm, like the sun. And I’m cold…?

No, that’s not it, either.

Kazuha sighs, scribbling out the words in a slightly frustrated manner. 

God. How did people do this? They could write the words so fluently like it was a seamless tumble of water in a gentle fountain. Meanwhile Kazuha felt like she could barely write her own name without any mistakes. And even then, sometimes it sounded wrong to her. Choppy and unstructured.

And don’t even get her started on Yunjin’s writing abilities. That was a whole other thing entirely.

Poetry, letters, short stories, lyrics—you name it. Yunjin could do it all. It was fucking incredible. 

She had a way of being able to stitch words together and make them sound fluid and beautiful. Smooth and too pretty to ever happen again, like swiping a perfect dollop of cream onto your tongue. Or coloring a perfect stripe of marker on the page. 

Kazuha remembers all the sticky-notes Yunjin has left them, over the years, in all sorts of places. Around their dorm, in the car. In their hotel rooms, when they’re overseas. The handwritten cards she’s gifted the members, at the end of promotions or during the holidays. These perfectly-tailored sentences, with little quirks and jokes and feelings, jam-packed onto a simple paper. Scribble-scrabbles of hearts and smiley-faces and tiny fruits. 

God, even her Weverse letters were emotional, for Christ’s sake. And those were online. Default text on a default background. The most basic of basic layouts. Supposed to be entirely uninteresting. Boring to look at. And even then—Yunjin’s words were breathtaking. Stunning. They pulled and tugged and squished at hearts. Made people’s eyes foggy and their noses watery. This insane swell of affection that started at the center of Kazuha’s stomach and bled outwards until she could feel it along the edges of her heart. 

Yes, you heard that right. She’s not heartless, thank you very much. It was easy to think so, and she could see why, since she was rarely one to cry at such things. Call her stoic—or maybe even apathetic—but art almost never moved her in ways it might move others. She was never sobbing at the end of a movie, or when she turned the last page of a book. She never blinked out tears when listening to a sad song, or had her breath catch and knees waver when staring at a particularly beautiful painting. 

She could appreciate all the good things. She knew when something was beautiful.

(She was in a group with Yunjin, for crying out loud. Of course she knew what gorgeous looked like.)

It was just hard for her to feel affected by beautiful things when they were inanimate. These were things that were manmade, she always told herself. These were things that were once parts and are just put together now into a bigger piece. That’s all. 

(So then why was it different when these things were made by the hands of Yunjin?)

Maybe it had to do with it being handcrafted by people Kazuha knew personally.

But then—it should have had the same effect on her when Sakura crocheted them scarves and beanies, if we were using that logic. It should have been that same, gentle tug in Kazuha’s chest. 

It should have been. And yet…

Yunjin’s art and works were different. They spoke to Kazuha in a different language. Spoke to Kazuha in a language that actually worked. 

• love you twice made her chill (it was so relaxing, like a lazy yoga morning),
• raise your glass made her heart pinch (they were all so young, when she thought of it),
• I≠DOLL made her angry (how dare people say those things about Yunjin?),
• blessing in disguise made her wanna get up and dance (it was just so groovy),
• i don’t know made her feel proud (Yunjin had gotten to collaborate with one of her biggest idols!)
• and jellyfish made her feel warm, though maybe a bit upset (did Yunjin really believe she was useless?)

So you see. It was the same thing when it came to Yunjin’s little drawings. Or her journaling. Or her mini-paintings. Or her Weverse letters. They didn’t necessarily make Kazuha cry, but they did do something. They made her feel something. And that was more than anything else had ever been able to do.

It was easy to understand why so many fans were so touched by Yunjin’s letters, though. When somebody existed to you solely from afar, and their means of communication was online, it was no wonder why it hit so heavy. The fans weren’t seeing Yunjin every day, the way Kazuha was. For them, it was jarring and devastating to hear such powerful and emotional words, dropped and delivered all at once. They didn’t see all the intricacies. They didn’t get to see Yunjin 2 minutes after her post. It was easy for them to imagine Yunjin hit the Publish button and then curled up and cried for the entire rest of the day. It was easy to think Yunjin was having her woe-is-me moment, sad behind the screen and calling for help.

Kazuha didn’t mean or want to seem inconsiderate, but it happens every time, anyway. When it’s hours later and she’s done nothing to acknowledge Yunjin’s heartwrenching words, via comment or anything. Instead, she’s busy posting something of her own. Something stupid like a nose-scrunch selfie or a plate of food she really enjoyed, telling the fans to make sure they stay warm and healthy now that the weather was getting cold.

(But again, it’s because they don’t see Yunjin. Not the way Kazuha sees her. They don’t see that Yunjin posted her letter as they were scrambling out of the car for a schedule. That she slipped her phone away without a second thought and was cry-laughing with Chaewon merely 10 minutes later. She was okay. She was warm, the way she always has been. So Kazuha lets it go, the way she always does.)

(Not that she doesn’t circle back and try, though. Later on, when they’re all alone. When she and Yunjin have some movie on, in Kazuha’s room, with plates upon plates of half-finished food crammed on the small coffee table, and there’s barely any light in the room. And Kazuha feels a little sleepy, lazy and full, and Yunjin is very nearly on top of her, stained with perfume and starting to grow the tiniest bit too hot, thick-frame glasses slipping down her nose, and her long lashes are a little droopy, because she’s rolling over on the bed, climbing onto Kazuha’s lap and staring down at her with the softest smile ever. And Kazuha mutters: “I read your post, unnie.”—because she can only ever be brave when she’s already in her bra and on her back, and when there’s something playing in the background that might cushion her and save her if it all goes sideways. And Yunjin says something, but really it’s just in vain; something inconsequential just to fill the space of where a response should be. And the candlelight flickers, and Kazuha’s heart thuds, and the wax falls right off the stick, dripping just in time with Yunjin’s fingers finding her mouth.)

Kazuha gulps, cheeks flushing pink as she snaps gently back to the present moment.

Right. Her sitting at the counter of their dorm kitchen. The paper in front of her. The pen in her hand.

She sighs again to herself, running her fingers through her hair.

Urrggghhhhh!! Why was this so hard?! Why had scientists not yet invented a way for Kazuha to connect a projector screen to her brain, so that she could just show her feelings and thoughts in that way? Writing was impossible.

Okay. Focus. She was trying to say that Yunjin is like the sun. And Kazuha was the thing that’s laying under and is affected by it.

What are some words or descriptions that she can use for that? She’s warmed up? She’s burned?

No, no. Warmed up, maybe. But ‘burned’ carried a bad connotation. It made it sound painful. Yunjin was not painful.

Kazuha whines like a groany child, giving a mini and quieter version of her signature dolphin screech. 

(Imagine her Zuharong character flailing his tiny cartoon paws and feet, with his stupid-adorable little grinning face buried in some pillow or something.)

Yes. Exactly like that.

Arrrrggghhhh. Gosh.

Kazuha puts the pen down and crosses her arms on top of the counter, dropping her face into them and pouting.

Yes, she’s 22 years old, but she’s allowed to have her moments, okay? As long as her tantrums weren’t hurting anybody, she reasoned. And they never really did. They just made her look like a total loser.

Which—get this—was actually one of the things that made Yunjin fall for her so bad, if you can believe that. Her nose-scrunch and eyebrow-wiggling flirting, always with that big, dumbass smile on her face. The one that never failed to make Yunjin’s heart run a marathon. 

So hey. It actually worked out quite nicely.

Suddenly, Kazuha hears a little exclamation from the living room area.

(Speak of the devil…)

It was that noise slash yell that Yunjin made when she was about to drop something she was holding. Or make a mess. Or both.

Kazuha can’t help but snicker to herself, because 1) she laughs at everything, and 2) she can already imagine the dramatic and comedic expression on Yunjin’s face.

She flicks the pen away and takes her slightly crumpled paper, tucking it inside her pocket. Then she gets up from her seat and goes over to the living area.

“I can hear you struggling all the way from the kitchen,” she announces as she walks in, throwing a leg over the arm of the couch and sitting there. 

Yunjin chuckles from her spot on the floor, that space between the coffee table and the couch. 

“It wasn’t a struggle noise,” she says, looking laser-focused. “This is actually going very well.” She holds a string with some charms on it, all sorts of colorful beads and letters scattered around her on the tabletop.

Kazuha pushes her neck out, curiosity already tempting her. “What are you making?”

“A keychain.” Yunjin replies. “Kkura-unnie was trying to teach me how to crochet but gave up because I was so bad. We had a bunch of this stuff, though, so I looked up a video on how to make keychains and I’m trying to make one now.” 

Kazuha nods her understanding. “Is it hard?” 

“Around you? Always.” Yunjin replies, a roguish little smile on the corners of her lips.

It takes a second for Kazuha to register the innuendo, but she gets it.

She blushes at the dirty joke, grabbing a cushion and chucking it lightly at the older girl.

“Don’t be gross.” She scolds.

All Yunjin does is laugh, and all Kazuha does is crumble at the sound of it.

“No, it’s not hard. It’s actually super easy once you get the hang of it. I could even teach you if you want, and we could make some together.” Yunjin offers, looking up at Kazuha with those damn big, twinkly, star-eyes.

Yunjin could ask Kazuha to march straight into a pit of lava with that look, and she’d do it, probably.

 “That sounds fun.” Kazuha smiles. “Ooo! Maybe we could even start watching that K-Drama I mentioned. And we could make hot chocolate, too!” She can’t help but stand up with excitement, her face taking on those little crinkles she gets; the ones between her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, when she’s smiling for real.

God. Yunjin almost throws her keychain across the room just so she can get up and kiss this girl.

“Yes. Let’s do all of that.” She grins. “And maybe have some late-night Buldak.”

“I’d love that, unnie, but I don’t think we have any more. I didn’t see any in the cabinet earlier—oh.” 

Kazuha cuts herself off mid-sentence when she sees Yunjin giving her her pretty-please-face. Puppy eyes and angel smile.

The Japanese girl lets her arm drop to hit against her thigh. “I’m gonna go get you some, aren’t I?” It’s more of a statement than a question.

“Only if you love me.” Yunjin negotiates.

“What! That’s manipulation!” Kazuha gawks, gasping playfully.

“Fine then. So then don’t get me some if you don’t love me.” Yunjin shoots back, cool as ever.

Kazuha blinks, eyes darting up with a confused look on her face. She looks like she’s trying to mentally calculate something, and Yunjin giggles, practically seeing the gears turning in Kazuha’s pretty little head.

“Urgh! Unnie, I’m not smart enough for this kind of stuff right now.” Kazuha huffs, flopping down onto the couch and laying sprawled out.

“No more psychological warfare.” She says with a pout, turning to look at Yunjin. “You know I’m obviously gonna get it for you.”

“You are?” Yunjin pretends to be ultra-touched, placing her free hand on her chest and batting her lashes in a sickly-sweet manner.

Kazuha has half a mind to roll her eyes and keep their little game going, but instead she melts into a giggle.

“Yes. Duh.” She reaches her arm out lazily, fingertips tickling something invisible since Yunjin is too far away. “Your wish is always my command, your highness.” She salutes stupidly, making her face serious.

Yunjin snorts with laughter. She, too, laughed at everything. But when it came to Kazuha’s jokes and antics… good lord…This girl made a whole show of it. She was so horrendously whipped. 

“Princess treatment from the one and only Nakamura Kazuha?” Yunjin gasps. “I might burst into tears.”

“You burst into tears at everything.” Kazuha teases.

Yunjin frowns. “You’re rude. Didn’t anyone ever teach you manners?”

“You’re so right.” Kazuha concedes, rolling off the couch and onto a kneel along the carpeted floor. “My apologies, Huh PD-nim.” She bows her head, with a dramatic twirl of her wrist.

Yunjin shakes her head, giggling quietly.

Kazuha sits up with a beaming smile. “Will you teach me how to make the keychains now?” She scoots closer to the older girl.

“Nuh-uh. Go away.” Yunjin twists her body away slightly, hiding her hands from Kazuha.

“Seriously? All because I made fun of you a tiny bit?” Kazuha pokes her in the side.

“No. All because I’m making one that’s a surprise.” Yunjin jolts and writhes with a giggle, swatting Kazuha’s hand away. 

“So you’re the one that had the idea of teaching me, and now you’re telling me I can’t make any at all.” 

“We can make them all after!” Yunjin says. “Gosh. And you say I’m the dramatic one.”

Kazuha giggles, finding it very amusing to make Yunjin exasperated. 

“You can get our Buldak in the meantime. Now shoo.” Yunjin gently kicks the Japanese girl with her fuzzy-socked foot.

“Bossy, bossy.” Kazuha grumbles, though she’s already standing up.

“You like it.” Yunjin quips. “Kateyki.” She adds as an afterthought, laughing at her own reference to their Tiktok.

Kazuha shakes her head, refusing to admit it’s funny. “I like tall, hot women telling me what to do? You might be right about that.” She replies, unashamed.

“Oh, I’d believe you.” Yunjin snickers. “You were all over the CEO concept we did for our Season’s Greetings shoot. I put those heels and glasses on and I swear I could see you drooling from a mile away.”

Kazuha blushes. “I wasn’t that obvious.” She mumbles.

“We even did that boss/employee roleplay that night. Remember? Your hot little fantasy.” Yunjin adds, unfazed.

Now she’s just trying to kill Kazuha. Straight-up. 

Kazuha blushes even deeper. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She tries to play dumb.

Yunjin smirks. “Our texts say otherwise.”

Kazuha might just pass out.

“Shut up.” She groans.

“Get over here and make me.” Yunjin says, all naughty-voice and bedroom-eyes.

“Okay!” Kazuha stands up straighter, clearing her throat. “I’m stepping out before this gets any more heated. God knows you’re not above doing it in the living room.”

Yunjin laughs. “I mean… it’s not like we haven’t done it before. Like two weeks ago when we were all drinking and watching a movie. And then we waited for everyone to go to bed so we could—” 

“Unnie!” Kazuha cuts her off, whisper-yelling, eyes wide and hands flailing. “Shush!” 

Yunjin laughs again. “What? It’s not like you’ve been exactly combative about it, when it happens. In fact, you seem to really, really enjoy it.”

She’s right. Kazuha flushes.

“Don’t worry, Zuzu. I won’t tell anyone that you have a kink for doing it on the couch.” Yunjin taunts.

“I do not!” Kazuha argues, but the fierce blush on her face betrays her.

(But really. It wasn’t her fault Yunjin looked so hot humping Kazuha’s leg… And especially when she had a wet thumb under Kazuha’s shirt on her nipple… and her other hand clamped over Kazuha’s mouth, all at the same time, moaning quietly into her ear and demanding for Kazuha to stay quiet.)

“Sure.” Yunjin smirks, as if she can see Kazuha replaying it in her head. 

“I’m going to the convenience store.” Kazuha murmurs with a huff. 

Yunjin forces her giggles to subside. “Okay, Zuha-ya. Thank you.”

Kazuha mumbles something, incoherent and childish, but she’s masking a grin. She bends down to kiss Yunjin’s cheek.

Yunjin melts, smiling.

“You have your jacket, right?” She looks adorable and worried. “Please put it on. It’s getting cold out.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kazuha makes her voice drag with a slight drawl. “Will do.”

She scurries off, grabbing her black puffy jacket and zipping it up while slipping her boots on at the door.

“Be right back!” She calls out. She hears Yunjin reply for her to be safe, and then she’s off with a smile.

It’s sad that the sun set so early these days. As Kazuha walks through their dorm building and down to the exit, she peeks out the window and sees it’s still light out, but she knows that will quickly change. 

Oh well. At least she and Yunjin will have more time to have a cozy night in, before having to work again tomorrow.

Kazuha smiles to herself, excitement and affection buzzing through her body. She pushes through a door to get to the face-scan machine to exit, having to walk a short path outside for a moment.

She gasps, immediately going frozen as the door shuts behind her.

She looks up, mouth slightly parted and eyes wide with wonder and awe.

She sticks her hands out, staring at them.

Small white tufts fall on her skin. Cold. Wet. Gentle.

Snow! SNOW! The first one of the season!

Kazuha’s face lights up with the most brilliant of smiles.

“Oh my gosh!” She exclaims, jumping slightly with excitement. She grabs her phone out of her pocket and calls Yunjin.

“Hello?” The older girl answers.

“Unnie!” Kazuha is still smiling, and Yunjin can hear it in her voice. “It’s snowing!”

“What!?” Yunjin exclaims, and Kazuha can hear her clambering up from her seat.

“Yes!” The younger girl beams. “I’m out in the walkway near the back of the building, hurry!”

“Okay, okay! I’m coming!” Yunjin replies. Kazuha hears a faint rustle like Yunjin is grabbing her jacket, and then the line cuts.

Not even two minutes later, the door bursts open and out comes Yunjin, dressed in a matching black puffy jacket and platform Uggs, but with jeans as opposed to Kazuha’s sweatpants.

“Oh my GOD!” The older girl gasps, tilting her face up to the sky and feeling the little wisps on her skin. 

Her eyes are huge, and she looks at Kazuha with her jaw dropped, a smile threatening to spill out.

“Zuha-ya!” Yunjin bounces on her toes, taking the younger girl’s hands. “It’s the first snow!”

“I know! Oh my gosh!” Kazuha entwines their fingers, her heart capsizing and going goopy and everything just feeling sweet in the world.

“It’s so pretty! Oh my gosh. WOW.” Yunjin gushes. “Wait! Have you seen the Snowman challenge they do on Tiktok? Let’s do it now! We don’t know how long it’s been snowing, and it could stop at any minute! Hurry!”

“Okay, okay!” Kazuha readily agrees, helping Yunjin find a spot to set up her phone so they could film it.

Yunjin finds the sound for it and props up her phone, the little timer counting them down as the audio starts playing.

“Wait! Who should be the princess?” Yunjin asks belatedly, as the two of them start waltzing.

“You!” Kazuha replies. “That’s what you like to be called, isn’t it?”

Yunjin blushes. “Well yeah, but… no, you be it! You’re prettier!”

“No, you are!” Kazuha argues.

The song reaches a crescendo and Yunjin laughs.

“Oh, whatever. It’s too late now anyway!” 

The two of them twirl at the same time, looking a little goofy and off-center but oh-so-adorable. And they’re having so, so much fun. Fun in a way that didn’t come around very often, for them. Bantering, giggling, and simply frolicking without a care in the world. Under the snow, young and happy like schoolgirls.

At one point Yunjin loses her step and stumbles, falling over slightly but not violently. Kazuha has a bit of a delayed reaction, thinking Yunjin is just messing around and not realizing she is actually on the way down. But the older girl is able to catch herself, so all is well.

In the middle of rewatching their Tiktok, they see a staff member walking through the building. And, deciding they want some cute and silly pictures together, they quickly dash inside and ask him to take some. 

One in the hallway, the two of them looking back at the camera, covered in little flakes of snow. 

One outside, with their full-bodies; eyes closed, Yunjin with a gleeful little scream on her face and Kazuha covering her mouth in awe. 

Another outside, full body again; Yunjin hunched over with laughter because she was watching their Tiktok again. Kazuha peeking over at the screen too and making some witty comment that only makes Yunjin laugh even harder.

They thank the staff member and then he goes back inside, leaving them alone once more. Yunjin draws a heart in the snow with the word Piona in the middle of it. Kazuha snaps a picture of it along with a few selfies she can send via Weverse DM later to fulfill her quota. 

(Which means she can comfortably set her phone aside and not have to be worrying about it all night, so she and Yunjin can have uninterrupted cozy time together. 

Killing two birds with one stone, or whatever Yunjin says.)

Yunjin finishes doing something on her phone—no doubt editing their Tiktok and sending a text to their manager for him to monitor it before they can post it. She was always the most proactive when it came to those sorts of things.

Kazuha stares quietly at the snowfall while she waits, admiring the skyline in the distance. A hazy, almost-orange color. Very light and soft-looking. Like she could carve a piece out and eat it like cotton candy. 

It’s peaceful. Unmoving. Well actually, there’s movement, but it’s that gentle kind. The kind with no rush and no set schedule. Time isn’t a focal point, but rather something that just happens to be there. Kazuha wishes it could be like this forever.

But then, if she had these kinds of moments in bunches, would they still be just as special? 

Oh god. That sounded like the kind of philosophical question Yunjin would ask. They were really starting to bleed into one another. Like that picture of the two gummy bears holding hands and connected, their colors mixing together. 

“Okay!” Yunjin beams. She clicks her phone off and slips it back into her pocket, hugging her jacket a little and dancing around. “You ready to go back in?”

And she looks so young. But weary in the softest way. It’s been years, after all. She looks young, but not as young as when they first met. And it hits Kazuha then—how they will never know versions of each other that are more innocent and free, as they were back then.

Kazuha swallows, the tip of her nose becoming red from the cold. The paper sits, hot and ready, burning in her pocket. Calling to her now. This feels like a good moment. Her heart sings out, full and emboldened.

“I…” She stammers, shaking her head. “I didn’t get your Buldak.” 

“That’s so unimportant.” Yunjin dismisses, stepping closer to Kazuha and linking their arms. “I don’t want you walking around in the snow. It’s pretty cold, and I know you’re sensitive. You could get sick. C’mon—”

“I have something for you.” Kazuha blurts suddenly. Because if she doesn’t just say it now, she never will. 

Yunjin blinks, expression softening. “You do?”

Kazuha nods, another thick gulp sliding down her throat.

“Yeah,” she confirms, sounding much quieter than she intends to. She clears her throat and tries again. 

“Yes.” Firmer now. Sure of herself.

Yunjin is smiling at her, fond and attracted, eyes darting down to her lips for a moment. “What is it, aegi?”

Kazuha unlinks their arms gently and takes a small step back, stuffing her hand into her pocket. The edges of the paper tickle her fingertips.

“I, um-...” She gulps. She takes out the slightly-crinkled page and unfolds it, scanning it briefly. “I wrote something.”

Yunjin looks starstruck. Wonder-filled eyes and a watery smile.

“Zuha…” She whispers.

“It was supposed to be a letter, originally.” Kazuha rambles. “But… god, it was literally impossible. I don’t know how you do it. I tried like a million times and it just always sounded stupid. Like some teenage boy wrote it. So instead I wrote this. It’s not as neat or as organized as a letter, or anything, but… Well, I still wanted to try and write something. And this is the closest I could get to anything coherent. Or poetic. So—”

“Zuha-ya.” Yunjin interrupts her spiraling, pinning Kazuha with a gentle look and her equally-as-gentle voice. “Breathe, honey.”

Kazuha obeys, breathing slowly and feeling soothed. And honey, swirling around in her stomach.

“What is it?” Yunjin asks softly.

Kazuha takes another deep breath. “It’s a list.” The paper trembles slightly in her hands, shaky from a combination of the cold and her nerves. “I wanted to wait for the perfect moment, but… You look so pretty right now, and it’s the first snow, and we’re together and there’s no work for the rest of the night. And I feel brave, or brave enough at least, so… Now’s as good a time as ever.”

“You think I look pretty?” Yunjin smiles, finding a way to be a teasing little fox, even during a moment like this.

Kazuha blushes. “Please shut up.” She says. “I’m trying to be very romantic right now.”

“Oh yeah.” Yunjin chuckles. “Nothing says romance like telling me to shut up in the middle of a snow storm.”

“Snow storm?!” Kazuha scoffs, incredulous. “You’re unbelievable! It’s barely a flurry.” 

Yunjin giggles. “I know. I just wanted you to loosen up. Though, you’re unbearably adorable when you’re nervous.” 

Kazuha blushes even deeper. “Well… it worked. Drama queen.” 

Yunjin giggles again, and Kazuha lets the hum of it settle under her ribs and lull her slightly.

“Anyway. My list.” She clears her throat, taking a shaky breath and beginning to read off of it. “It’s called: The Times I’ve loved Yunjin-unnie. By Kazuha.”

She has half a mind to glance up and look at Yunjin. But then she’s scared she’ll get too nervous and lose all her bravado thus far, so instead, she plunders on.

“One: When we were overseas in New York, and we all went to that one smoothie place. You had to step out with manager-nim for a little bit, and you didn’t realize your smoothie had a Greek yogurt base. I know you said you’re not allergic anymore, but it still upsets your stomach sometimes. I hate speaking up at restaurants or things like that, I always get so anxious. Now imagine when I have to do it in English.  I know you say I’m really good at English, but I just get so scared. But anyway… I asked the barista to remake it, with soy yogurt this time. I could barely get the words out, I was so nervous. He understood me, though. And then that was the smoothie Eunchae-ya and I brought you, just before the US Open.”

She takes a slight pause, collecting her emotions and moving her thumb down to the second bullet-point.

“Two: This was like a year ago, I think. You were in the studio working on ‘jellyfish’ and fell asleep. I went in because I had a few questions for Mr. PD-nim about some of my parts, and I saw you. You had some files of the song open on your tablet, so I made sure to save them and then made a copy of everything and saved it in a folder on my phone, just in case. I knew how hard you had been working on the song, and I didn’t want you to lose any progress. But I didn’t want to wake you up, either, because you were working so hard and you needed to rest.”

She makes the mistake of looking up at Yunjin for a split-second. The older girl’s eyes are sparkly with tears, her hands closed in little fists near her heart.

Kazuha’s stomach flips.

She forces her eyes down again.

“Three: Earlier this year, when our friends from Katseye and ILLIT came to our concert in Seoul. We all played mafia in the waiting room and the loser had to pay for hotpot. It was down to just us and Chaewon-unnie, I think. I knew you were the mafia. Everybody did. It was so obvious, and you’re terrible at hiding it. But I voted Chaewon-unnie out anyway, so that you would win. You were so happy. And I promised myself I would do anything to keep you happy like that.”

A gulp, because that felt extremely cinematic even as she said it. 

“Four: Eunchae-ya and I snuck out one night and went for a meal. The place we went to had jellyfish soup on the menu, and I felt like I’d gotten slapped on the face. I was shocked. Offended, almost. I thought Yunjin-unnie adores jellyfish. How could they do this? It’s like killing a piece of her. I wanted to throw a fit and leave, but Eunchae was so excited. So I just got something small. And I didn’t leave a tip. I felt so mean. I even feel a little bad about it now. But still.”

Yunjin gives a sniffly, soft laugh, and Kazuha smiles to herself.

“Five: About a month ago or so, you and Minjeong-unnie went to dinner with some other friends, while the girls and I got takeout and stayed in. We were all so tired from our schedules, but you had promised Minjeong-unnie to hang out, so you went. They always pick that one restaurant you don’t really like, but you’re too nice to tell them that, so you always suck it up and just go. I made sure to put some of our takeout aside for you so that you could have a proper meal you enjoyed once you got back home. I didn’t want you to go to bed still feeling hungry.”

The snow hasn’t stopped falling. Little pieces of it melt into drops that wet Kazuha’s paper, but it’s okay. She’s almost at the end.

“Six: This one’s small, but when I’m buying skincare stuff or makeup, I always make sure to buy a few WakeMake products because it helps boost your brand reputation. Plus, I get to see the poster of you when I’m picking stuff out, which is a bonus.”

A little scoff from Yunjin, at Kazuha’s blatant flirting.

Kazuha giggles.

“Seven: You have this one sweater… I think either your grandma or your sister gave it to you, when you were in New York for your birthday. But anyway, I always make sure it hang-dries whenever you do your laundry, otherwise it gets itchy and irritates your skin like crazy. You’re usually not sensitive to that stuff, but for some reason, this one gets you. It’s very rude.”

Another soft laugh from Yunjin.

Thank you, thank you. Kazuha internally bows. They don’t call me the Osaka comedian for nothing.

“Eight: There’s a special nail glue that I always buy and give to our nail tech and stylists, to use for your manicures. It basically has a softer base so that they’re a little easier to trim and take off, for whenever you’re song-writing and want to play the guitar or piano. Since I know how annoying they can get.”

A slight pause. Kazuha pushes her thumb down to the next bullet-point and realizes.

“Um…” She sniffles from the cold. “That’s pretty much it, for the longer list stuff. But, I- uh… I wrote some other things. It’s like… little things you do, that I notice, and that I think are cute. Like that thing you do where you keep you keep your berries in the freezer for smoothies but then move them to the fridge if you wanna use them in a bowl, because you like the frozen texture in smoothies so it’s not mushy or watery. Or how you make it painfully obvious when you don’t like a food, because you take one bite, say ‘Mm. Yeah! It’s good,’ and then you don’t take another bite. Or how sometimes, when you have to work late, you always text me goodnight with a little leaf emoji and a heart, because you know that, otherwise, I’d lay awake. And then when you do get back to the dorms, you always tiptoe into my room, trying so hard to be quiet because you know I’m a light-sleeper. And you whisper goodnight to me and kiss my forehead or my cheek, and then go to your room. Even though I know you wanna stay and sleep with me, but you’re scared to wake me up because you don’t wanna disrupt my rest. And you don’t know that I’m half-awake, every time anyway, and that I always wanna grab you and just pull you down onto the bed, and put my face in your neck like some clingy girlfriend, but I don’t, because I think Oh, she’s probably so tired. She’s been working so hard, and I don’t wanna be too much. So I just lay there. But this is me telling you now: Please wake me up. I want you to tell me everything about your day. And if we’re too tired, then we can talk in the morning. But you have to stay for that. So please stay. And hold me. Or I’ll hold you.”

Kazuha stops and takes a shallow, shaky breath, a flurry of emotion cutting through her chest. She looks up at Yunjin, who has soft tears running down her face.

“If you don’t shut up soon, Zuha, I might tackle you.” The older girl threatens, with a tearful smile.

Kazuha grins.

“I’m almost done.” She promises. “I just have this last little thing I wrote.”

She straightens a little, clearing her throat that feels a little choked up now, in the aftermath of what was essentially a grand love confession.

“Yunjin-unnie, you once told me about the phrase ‘to be loved is to be seen.’ At the time, I thought I got it. Not to the extent of your brilliant mind, of course, but it made sense enough. It wasn’t until I started ‘seeing’ you that I understood what it meant to truly love someone. Love isn’t about being perfect. It’s about knowing it’ll be far from that, and still choosing to fight on and try. I know you. I see you. Yunjin. Jennifer. Whoever you want to be. Just hold my hand and tell me, and I’ll be right there. You’re my sunshine. So please keep me warm. And I’ll keep you safe.”

A shaky gulp, as Kazuha reaches her signature.

“Yours forever, your penguin Kazuha.”

She doesn’t even have time to feel nervous about what comes next, because Yunjin is flying onto her and hugging her tightly.

The older girl snuggles her face into Kazuha’s neck. 

“I’m gonna kill you, Zuha-ya.” She sniffles.

Kazuha erupts into giggles, half from amusement and half from residual nerves. She hugs Yunjin back, squeezing her.

“Dying by the hands of a hot girl after a beautiful first snow? Sign me up.” She jokes.

Yunjin huffs a laugh, slightly choked from her crying.

“How are you not sobbing?” She accuses.

“I was too busy trying not to die from nervousness.” Kazuha replies. “It kept me occupied.”

“Nervousness from reading your stupid, ridiculous list.” Yunjin sniffles again.

“Stupid? Ridiculous?” Kazuha frowns. “Gee, relax on the flattery.” She says sarcastically.

“Shut up.” Yunjin scoffs, pulling back just enough to be able to look at Kazuha’s face. “I say ‘ridiculous’ in an affectionate way. And in a way that’s trying to mask the fact that I’m melting.”

Kazuha smiles. “So you liked it?” She bites her lip worriedly, looking adorable.

“I’m literally crying my eyes out.” Yunjin smacks her shoulder lightly. “Of course I liked it! You basically gave me a love-confession scene right out of a K-drama.”

Kazuha’s smile only widens. “Maybe I’ve been watching one too many, huh?”

Yunjin can’t help but giggle. 

“You really liked it, though? Like actually?” Kazuha asks again. 

“Yes, I really did.” Yunjin soothes Kazuha by playing with her hair, pouting cutely. “Aegi. Why are you so worked up about this?”

“Because!” Kazuha whines. “You’re such a good writer, and I’m not. And… and you always do such nice and cute things, for me. And for everyone. And I feel like I… don’t. Like I suck at everything when I should be spoiling you. And I just wanted everything to be perfect for you, because that’s what you deserve, unnie. And I—”

Yunjin cuts her off by kissing her.

Kazuha’s blushing when they pull away, her eyes wide and scandalized.

“Unnie!” She whisper-yells, looking around them. “We’re outside!”

“Everyone in this building is either also an idol or under an NDA.” Yunjin mumbles, already going in for another kiss.

Kazuha is a very weak girl.

She surrenders easily, melting into the kiss and returning it softly. Gentle lips and noses brushing together. Kazuha tilts her head to deepen it, and Yunjin makes a quiet noise of affection. There’s just a hint of tongue, growing shy before it can become dangerous. Yunjin’s hands curl around to hold Kazuha’s jaw delicately, and Kazuha tucks her hands under the older girl’s jacket, warm and shielded against her soft shirt. 

They pull away after a moment, lips a little puffy and chests heaving.

“You said it yourself, you big puppy. Love isn’t perfect.” Yunjin lectures. “And either way, I don’t want perfect. I want us. And only you can give me that. So just give me you, okay? Just give me Kazuha. Strong, silly, bread-lover Kazuha.”

Kazuha blushes, feeling scolded but appeased.

“I forgot one.” She mumbles against Yunjin’s lips, eyelashes still fluttering.

“Hm?” Yunjin asks, breathless and a little dazed.

“A moment where I loved you.” Kazuha elaborates. “Just now. When I saw the snow. You’re the first person I thought to call. I wanted us to watch it together.”

Yunjin blinks at her, looking watery-eyed again.

“Nakamura Kazuha,” she says with a gentle shake of her head, pressing her forehead to the Japanese girl’s. “You’re such a sap.”

“Possibly.” Kazuha smiles, slanted and sneaky. “But I think I must also be the snow.”

Yunjin tilts her head, looking at her curiously.

Kazuha hugs her closer.

“I melt when the sun touches me.”

Yunjin swoons so hard she swears she almost faints.

She gets a massive surge of cuteness aggression, squishing Kazuha’s cheeks.

“I don’t ever wanna hear you complaining that you’re not good with your words.” She says.

Kazuha smiles as best she can, letting Yunjin do whatever she wants as she plays with her face.

“Yunjin-unnie,” the younger girl says, after Yunjin lets go. “Look.” 

She puts her hand in her pocket and digs around, fishing out something she hides in her palm.

She gets down on one knee, holding out the rock Yunjin had given her from the snowy beach, all those months ago.

Yunjin gasps, hands instinctively flying to cover her mouth.

Kazuha beams a smile, placing the pebble on the snowy ground at Yunjin’s feet.

She stands up, letting Yunjin fangirl for a second longer before she bends down and picks it up.

“I accept.” The older girl smiles, admiring the rock before tucking it inside her pocket and hugging Kazuha’s neck once more. “It’s beautiful.”

“Like someone I know.” Kazuha flirts, nuzzling in closer.

“You and your lame little lines.” Yunjin rolls her eyes, blushing. “You’re reminding me of your signature one.”

“Oh, yes.” Kazuha giggles. “You’ve got beauty on your face.”

She hums quietly, tilting her head up to the sky, where the snow is still falling on them.

“We should change it up.” She proposes. “Make it something more epic.” 

“Like what?” Yunjin plays along.

“Hmm…” Kazuha thinks about it. “Let’s combine us. You love the sky, right? You think it’s beautiful. Beauty can equal the sky.”

She looks at Yunjin.

“Unnie,” she says sincerely. “You’ve got the sky on your face.”

Yunjin wants to laugh. But damn it, why did it sound poetic? And the way Kazuha is looking at her certainly isn’t helping.

She rolls her eyes again, pulling Kazuha in for a playful waltz.

Kazuha dissolves into giggles, the two of them dancing. The moon keeps their moment a secret.

And the snow falls. Just like Kazuha when Yunjin’s pretty face is looking at her, all long lashes with tiny snowflakes on them.

Falls and falls and falls.