Work Text:
don’t take this the wrong way
you knew who i was with every step that i ran to you
only blue or black days
electing strange perfections in any stranger i choose
would things be easier if there was a right way?
honey there is no right way
and so i fall in love just a little bit
every day with someone new
- hozier, someone new
-
Nayeon doesn’t fail a lot in life.
Scratch that, she doesn’t fail at all. She built a career in music all by herself, put her blood, sweat, and tears into becoming the renowned producer she is today. It might be a little different from her childhood dream of becoming a popstar — or an idol, to be more specific — but that dream was accomplished nevertheless. She’s methodical, effective, and driven — exactly the way it’s written on her résumé, printed in permanent ink.
Which is why her relationship with the gym isn’t necessarily harmonious. Every year end, she tells herself that she’ll start going to the gym regularly for the following year. It never pans out — always too busy, always too tired. She’s getting frustrated, and for the fourth year-end in a row, she has her best friend pointing and laughing at her failure yet again.
“I told you to just come with me,” Jihyo says smugly, and Nayeon rolls her eyes with what she hopes is enough disdain to relay her feelings.
“You come at six o’clock in the morning, you can’t be serious.”
It’s a ritual at this point, for Jihyo to tease her about her shortcomings when it comes to health and wellness during their regularly scheduled Saturday lunches. It’s not that Nayeon would have it any other way. She supposes it keeps her accountable. But that doesn’t make her any less pissed about the situation. So she swirls the ice cubes in her orange juice with her straw, in hopes of hypnotizing herself into a more personable state. It’s better than the alternative of staring at passersby, because she almost always ends up narrowing her eyes and scaring them off. Her poor eyesight can be a curse in more ways than one.
“So go whenever you can,” Jihyo replies with a shrug. “Unfortunately ‘whenever’ for you is strictly during the month of January.”
“I’ll go tonight then,” Nayeon grumbles with a glare.
Jihyo answers with a bright smile, having successfully baited her friend into doing what she wanted. Nayeon didn’t want to give her the satisfaction, but maybe being baited into having a healthier lifestyle by your best friend is just what comes with friendship.
She takes a bite of the scrambled eggs on her plate, feeling dejected.
“Your problem is the fact that you see working out as a means to an end,” Jihyo explains unnecessarily, but she listens nevertheless. “You need to actually enjoy working out.”
Nayeon’s nose scrunches. “You don’t have to always enjoy everything. Sometimes you just need to do things.”
“You can’t Im Nayeon your way out of this,” Jihyo says solemnly. “You can’t expect to be consistent when you’re miserable.”
“Watch me,” Nayeon grumbles.
Jihyo shrugs and pops a strawberry in her mouth. She looks at Nayeon with a mixture of amusement and concern — refusing to acknowledge the possible root of that concern, Nayeon decides to simply classify the expression as condescension. She’s not in the mood to unpack her psyche over lunch on a Saturday, in the middle of November no less. This is strictly about the gym and her stupid gym rat friend.
“You can always just join me whenever I run. That might be more your thing,” Jihyo suggests innocently. Faux innocence, that is.
“Ugh, you’re such a fitness junkie it makes me sick.”
“These abs don’t grow on trees you know,” Jihyo points an accusatory fork at her, “You better follow up on that visit tonight!”
Nayeon rolls her eyes again for good measure. “Aye aye, captain.”
-
She comes up with three incredibly solid, perfectly foolproof reasons as to why she should not visit the gym tonight.
Reason number one: Do people really go to the gym in the evenings? It just seems wrong. Don’t gym buffs usually go in the mornings, because they need to get their sleep, because that’s what’s healthy? It just makes sense. Granted, Nayeon can’t go during the mornings. But that’s a dilemma she might be able to solve if she just went to the shower and slept it off. She checks the clock. 19:00.
Reason number two: She hasn’t done her research. Is she just supposed to enter the gym, completely unaware and uninformed of all the equipment and whatever the fuck she’s supposed to do? It just seems like a waste of time. She’d be better off looking up routines and tips tonight, put off the visit for tomorrow, and be more prepared. She ignores her best friend’s message from last year, something along the lines of showing up is the first step! As long as you show up then you’re off to a great start.
Reason number three (and this one, it’s quite pressing): She doesn’t have the gear yet. Will it truly be okay to just show up in a sports bra, some leggings— and, oh, she doesn’t even have an insulated water bottle yet. This is a disaster, quite frankly, and—
“Hi! Welcome to TDN Gym!”
Nayeon’s train of excuses come to a screeching halt, zapping her right back to reality where her two feet have already placed her across the front desk of Jihyo’s gym.
“Are you here to look around?” the girl behind the desk asks with a toothy smile — something in said teeth glints, and Nayeon faintly recognizes those things to be tooth gems. A new fad among young people. “Or are you a member?”
Nayeon shakes herself out of her stupor, sporting a smile that she hopes doesn’t look too manic. “Yes, a friend recommended me the place and I was wondering if I could try out.”
“Ah, we do a week where you can do a trial. No trainer, but you can use the equipment and whatnot. I’ll be needing your I.D.”
Nayeon nods, going through the motions and spacing out throughout the process. She eyes all the daunting equipment laid out, and her somewhat odd timing finally did her some good — the place was nearly empty. Save for a pair lifting dumbbells and someone on the treadmill, there’s no one else there. Perfect.
Or so she thought.
After registering in the front desk and proceeding to sit on a nearby bench, she finds it pretty difficult to get up and do whatever it was Jihyo wrote down for her as her newbie routine.
Less people means she’s more noticeable, which on a normal day would be a plus for her, but she hates being a beginner. Maybe she should’ve taken up Jihyo’s offer, been here with a friend, with more direction and less intimidation. But it’s just a bunch of equipment, and who cares about all these people?
Feeling her internal turmoil brewing a pretty nasty headache, Nayeon takes a sip from her regular, not-that-impressive water bottle, a bit overwhelmed. Maybe going through an entire inner monologue before stepping foot in this place can be half her workout. It’s already making her just as miserable.
Sighing, she decides to just get it over with and pulls up the text message on her phone with very specific instructions. Expect nothing less from her best friend.
Warm up for 5 minutes on the treadmill.
Valiantly, Nayeon steps forward towards the treadmill, surveying the area carefully. She picks the machine farthest away from the person currently using one.
And then she’s met with a bunch of unintelligible buttons.
“Oh you’ve gotta be—”
“Ah, excuse me miss?”
For the second time that day, she’s pulled out of her catastrophizing by yet another member of the gym. But this time it’s not a tiny secretary behind the front desk, with braided pigtails and a toothy smile.
It’s someone much taller, and had much broader shoulders. Nayeon’s only human. It takes about 2 seconds for her to register that this woman is in fact a walking wet dream, dressed in a tight tank top that she filled out quite nicely, and some sweatpants. Her face is sheepish, but it just adds to her charm.
“Uh, do you need help by any chance?” she asks, a hand flying to the back of her neck in apparent embarrassment. “Sorry, I just haven’t seen you before and you seemed new—”
“No, I need help!” Nayeon squeaked, feeling warmth crawling up her neck, right to her cheeks.
“Oh! Good,” the woman exclaims, looking up at Nayeon with a wide grin. “Right, great. So I wasn’t— yeah. Good to hear that.”
Nayeon waits for a beat, two, three, until she loses count, and the air between them turns awkward.
“So—”
“Sorry,” the woman interjects with a sigh. There’s a pained expression on her face, but it’s easily forgivable with how pretty she is. Nayeon almost furrows her eyebrows at the thought.
That easy, huh?
“I just don’t make a habit of approaching strangers at the gym like this,” she says with a laugh, and the sound is light and familiar and honestly, Nayeon doesn’t even care that this is strange behavior in hindsight. She can deal with a little strange, a little slow on the uptake, as long as she smiles and laughs the way this stranger does.
“Ah, glad to be your first then,” she says with a smile of her own. She reaches out. “Nayeon.”
“Oh! I’m Momo,” she says hurriedly, wrapping both of her warm hands around Nayeon’s. “Forgot to introduce myself...”
“It’s okay, Momo,” she says slowly, teasing, this woman’s oddly reactive and nervous demeanor rapidly becoming endearing. “You’re good. And I do need help, because I have no idea how to work this treadmill, or how to do anything really.”
Momo’s face lights up with a shade of gratitude and some relief at the reassurance. “Well, I can teach you! It’s daunting at first, but trust me, you’ll get the hang of it just fine.”
“Alright then. I trust you. Lead the way.”
Nayeon’s grin widens at the bright red color that travels up to the tip of Momo’s ears — maybe Jihyo was right. Maybe working out is something that can be enjoyed.
-
Jihyo was dead wrong, of course.
“Having eye candy doesn’t matter if I’m nearly blacked out!” Nayeon exclaims, falling into her bed, her phone squished between her cheek and her shoulder. “She probably made it harder to breathe, honestly. She was so hot, like stupidly hot.”
Jihyo hums on the other side of the call, seemingly nonplussed. “As long as it’s enough motivation for you to come back, I’m happy.”
She makes a face at that. “I feel like a dog. Very Pavlovian.”
“It’s your fault for being so difficult! This is good.”
“Of course you’d say that.”
In all honesty, Nayeon really couldn’t find it in herself to disagree.
-
As it turns out, Im Nayeon is incredibly predictable.
Pavlovian, almost.
“You’re doing great!” Momo encourages with a smile and two thumbs up, and then and there Nayeon decides that Jihyo has never been as wrong about this as anything else in their friendship of fifteen years.
It didn’t matter that Momo was wearing a stupid cropped tank top that showed off her unfairly built abs. It didn’t matter that Nayeon got to watch her back muscles flex while she worked on that stupid pulldown machine. None of it mattered because this leg press machine is about to kill her, her dog, and burn her entire apartment down. This leg press machine was going to ruin her life. The track she’s meant to produce for whatsername will just have to die in production hell.
“I don’t feel great,” Nayeon mumbles, bordering on a whine, but she perseveres nonetheless.
Momo answers with a sheepish smile, but it’s bright and Nayeon could deliriously swear that her eyes were shining like a puppy’s.
Speaking of canines. Nayeon has been in this dumb gym for four days a week for nearly three weeks now, her motivation (now turned friend) helping her immensely in being consistent. She still refuses to admit that Jihyo was right.
Throughout those days she’s learned that her new friend Momo — this completely hot, completely single, and surprisingly talented dancer new friend Momo, is an illustrator and writer of children’s books. How that came to be, Nayeon has no clue. But she’s apparently creative, smart (although Nayeon always teases her for always sputtering whenever she flirts), extremely nice, and built like she’s meant to be deployed by the national guard.
In other words, there’s a specific set of reasons as to why Nayeon keeps coming back to this gym despite her body’s desperate pleas for freedom.
She finishes her set with a grunt, lungs burning and stomach churning because of the way her new ‘friend’ was looking at her. Clearing her throat, she makes her way to the treadmills to cool down. Momo follows. She always does, and it makes Nayeon’s stomach twist even more.
“Hey,” Nayeon says, grunting as she starts to jog. “I never really got around to properly thanking you for helping me out. You know, with all this stuff. Even if I’m a pain in the ass.”
“You’re not,” Momo says with a slight frown. “I like helping you. I enjoy it.”
“Ah, enjoying the view?”
“What? No— I mean,” she blabbers, and Nayeon laughs heartily. “You know what I mean.”
Momo’s pouting, and if it weren’t for the fact that she could easily trip, fall, and kill herself on the treadmill if she stepped on it wrong, Nayeon would’ve leaned over to kiss it off her face.
“You’re cute. And I’m sure watching me nearly pass out while trying to do basic exercises isn’t nearly as attractive as it sounds.”
Momo chuckles, facing forward and walking a bit slower on the treadmill now. There’s a look on her face — a curious mix of amusement and fluster and disbelief — something Nayeon’s two weeks’ worth of friendship couldn’t quite decipher. It’s quite common with her, these unreadable expressions.
There’s a want that she does her best to ignore — a want to know all these expressions like the back of her hand, a want to read Momo and know her, to taste her and turn her inside and out. It’s a worrying want, and it’s something that’s been trying to claw its way out of her, trying to break through the friendly jabs and offhand flirting.
“But even if I do get to enjoy the view,” Momo begins, and Nayeon’s head whips to look at her. She’s still staring ahead, but there’s a stain of pink blossoming in her cheeks. “I’d still appreciate a thank you. I know a place that has ice cream nearby. It can be a cheat day. You worked hard.”
Momo still won’t meet her eyes, and Nayeon looks down to see her hand fidgeting with her sweatpants. She warms at the sight.
“I’d love that,” she says, voice clear and unwavering. She’s never been one to back down from a challenge, or from a leap of faith. “You’d have to shower though. You smell.”
Momo finally looks at her again, and this time, Nayeon can read the excitement and happiness on her face just fine.
-
Momo takes her to an ice cream shop that’s a three-minute walk away from their gym. The night was freezing, but her sweet tooth didn’t really mind the thought of eating something cold. It didn’t bode well for conversation though, except for the occasional grunt or laugh when Momo almost tripped on air.
The shop was cozy and properly heated when they get in, the space decorated in the style of an American diner, with the chrome, checkered floors, and vinyl booths. They make quick work of discarding their jackets and purchasing their ice cream, settling down on a booth a few ways away from the counter.
“You like strawberry?” Momo asks, taking a scoop from Nayeon’s cup.
“Yeah,” she nods. “I used to just order it because my younger sister liked it a lot, but I grew to like it too.”
They eat in silence for a bit after that, with a million thoughts swarming in Nayeon’s brain like a school of krill forming a hydrodynamic tornado. It’s funny then, how her mind couldn’t stop short circuiting, but the beating of her heart is as calm as ever — as if it knew it’s right where it’s meant to be.
“I have an older sister, but she doesn’t do the same for me,” Momo scrunches her nose. Adorable. “You must be a good sister.”
“Of course I am,” Nayeon says matter-of-factly.
Momo laughs. Loud and genuine, easily in contention for Nayeon’s favorite sounds. Like a cheatcode. Like how certain samples or instruments feel in her ears, the ones that make her stand up and thank whatever deity that’s out there because it means she can finally go home, cause she found the one that fits the song. The one she’s been looking for.
“Well, I’m glad to hear that. I wasn’t that good of a sister when I was a kid,” Momo says, eating another scoop of her ice cream. “Ah, I was such a troublemaker. I sneaked out, you know. When I was eleven. I really wanted to be a part of this dance troupe, but I thought my parents wouldn’t approve. So I went on my own, rode the train and everything. They found out eventually, cause I got injured and came home limping.”
Momo smiles, her gaze holding Nayeon’s, and she wonders briefly if she had to look away earlier out of precaution. Because the way Momo looks at her is disarming, like she’s taking her apart and putting her back together again, piece by piece.
“My parents were really mad. Not because of the troupe, but because I didn’t tell them. You can do whatever you want, they said. Just don’t get hurt.”
Nayeon laughs. “You weren’t quite obedient, then.”
“The instructions weren’t retroactive,” Momo says with the wave of a hand, biting back a smile. “But certainly compared to you, probably no.”
“Definitely no,” she corrects, teasing, but Momo doesn’t roll her eyes or pretend to be offended at the joke. It’s still that look, like she’s trying to figure something out. Nayeon meets her gaze head on, as if to say give it your best shot.
She hums, pretending to think of a story. “Well, my childhood is somewhat uneventful.”
“Someone as interesting as you couldn’t have possibly had an uneventful childhood, Im Nayeon-ssi.” Her name curls itself into Momo’s mouth, like it has its own flavor amongst the ice cream she’s eating.
“Okay then,” Nayeon declares pretending to be serious, “I trained to be an idol for most of my middle school and high school years.”
It’s her first time seeing Momo surprised. “Really? That’s.. ha. I definitely wouldn’t have expected that.”
“Why? Don’t I look the type?”
“You just don’t seem like someone who listens to any type of authority,” Momo snorts. “Ah. So I’m in the presence of an ex-idol.”
“You could say that.” Nayeon shrugs, eating what’s left of her ice cream. She lets it melt nicely against the roof of her mouth. “Let go of that career path. I produce music now, like a grown adult.”
Momo nods, staring at Nayeon like she’s finally gotten a new piece to solving her own personal puzzle. The scrutiny gets to her.
“Is it really that surprising?”
Momo smiles, warm and soft at the edges. “No, not really. It makes sense.”
“Because of my extremely self-aware and humble nature?” she jokes.
“No. It’s just... it makes sense. You as a star. Why people would want to look. And see,” Momo explains, like it’s just that simple. That easy.
She makes Nayeon want to believe that it could be.
-
“Ah, I had a great time,” Momo tells her through the chill and layers of clothing threatening to cover her face. “Thanks for the treat.”
“No problem,” Nayeon says, flashing her a grin. “Maybe if you keep up the good work you can upgrade to an actual date next time.”
Momo is her usual flustered self, stuttering out a reply, and Nayeon decides not to laugh at her because she’s too adorable like this.
“We’re having a little party to celebrate New Year’s Eve at my place,” Momo blurts out abruptly, rocking on the soles of her feet. “Just.. some friends... and my roommate. I was wondering if you’d—”
Nayeon interrupts her invitation with a kiss to the cheek, a slight movement and quick pressure, but she’s concerned Momo might actually start smoldering on the spot. Just in case, she quickly whispers against her cheek, “I’d love to be there.”
Momo nods to herself, a hand flying up to press against the spot where she’d been kissed. She looks like an idiot. Nayeon wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Right. Uh. See you. It’s on the 31st! But you already knew that... I’ll text you the address...”
-
That night, Nayeon comes home with nearly frostbitten fingers and the address of her hot gym crush turned friend turned something, on her phone.
She even thinks faintly about how for the first time in actual forever, Jihyo might be right about something. And how she’s even willing to admit that over lunch this coming Saturday, because she’s a good friend, and she’s in a much better mood these days anyway. Must be all those endorphins from exercising, really.
Except she doesn’t really have to.
The following days after their little ice cream date, Hirai Momo is nowhere to be found in their stupid gym. Nayeon’s come in the morning, afternoon, and evenings, and her stupid smile and stupid abs were nowhere to be found. She felt like a madwoman. So what if she wasn’t there? Nayeon could work out just fine. But is that really the extent of their relationship? A ‘thank you’ and suddenly she dips? Maybe she really did feel annoyed by all of Nayeon’s antics. Oh, this is just—
“You know you could always just call her,” Jihyo tells her, voice cutting through all her internal dramatics. Nayeon falls to her bed with a groan.
“No, I can’t. It’s not like she’s obligated to help me out in the gym all the time. And it’s not like she’s the reason why I go there.”
Even through the distance, and the complete lack of visual proof in a voice call, she knows Jihyo’s giving her The Face. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nayeon-ah. We both know she’s literally the only reason you go there.”
“Fine!” she bites out. “She’s one of the reasons I go there.”
“Uh huh. Just call her.”
The call ends with a monotonous and unforgiving beep, leaving Nayeon alone with her thoughts sprawled out all over her bed.
It’s December 30th. Literally a day before New Year’s Eve, and she doesn’t even know where she’ll be spending it. Usually, she’d just be cozied up in bed, watching a movie and pausing when the countdown starts. Her mom and sister would call like always, she’ll greet them a happy new year, and press play on the movie again. Simple. Routine. Mostly because Jihyo is with her family, and Nayeon didn’t really want to intrude. God knows what kind of shit they could’ve gotten into if she spent her New Year’s Eve with Park Jihyo. That girl had the alcohol tolerance of a recovering addict.
“This is so stupid,” she groans into her pillow, screaming.
Why does she have to lie here and lament like a woman from the eighteen hundredths? Why couldn’t have Momo just been a normal person and not disappear for no fucking reason?
Why did she even have to go to that dumb gym? She could’ve tried pilates or hiking. God, how stupid. And why does she even have to abide by these ridiculous arbitrary rules of time. She should be able to start a resolution at any point she so pleased. Why did she need to feel pressured by a calendar some dead guy made billions of years ago? All of it didn’t make any sense anyway. She should just be able to do things.
You can do whatever you want. Just don’t get hurt.
Right. Well.
Fine then.
-
The ride to Hirai Momo’s apartment building was quite short, considering the fact that it’s eleven o’clock in the evening. Every other sane person is in their homes, doing whatever it is sane people do. Nayeon wouldn’t have a clue.
She charges straight into the elevators, not even giving the drowsy doorman a chance to realize she’s not a resident of this building. She impatiently waits for the elevator, jabs her finger against Momo’s floor number, and impatiently waits some more.
She hears her before she sees her.
“Jeongyeon, please! Can’t you stay? Just help me out here!”
“No! Are you insane? Why the hell did you even say that?!”
There are two voices bickering, one clearly and absolutely belonging to Nayeon’s hot gym crush turned friend turned something currently pending. So she walks out of the elevator, chest puffed up in righteous indignation. And promptly finds Momo being dragged on the floor, hugging the leg of an unknown woman while in her pajamas.
“Hey!”
The both of them stop their yelling match to look at her, and Momo’s eyes go wide in recognition, so shocked that she doesn’t even have the awareness to untangle herself from whoever’s leg she’s currently holding on to.
“Nayeon-ah! What are you doing here?!” Momo exclaims, dumbfounded. As if realizing her current position, she pushes off the woman in front of her, earning a groan and a light hit to the head. She’s on her feet in seconds. “Oh my God, is that really you?”
“Oh, great! You tell her!” the woman says, turning around and heading for the lone apartment unit with an open door. “All of it!” Slam.
Momo, having recovered from her shock, is immediately embarrassed. She looks down, hand raising to scratch the back of her neck.
“How.. uh.. how much did you hear?”
“Just tell me what’s going on,” Nayeon demands, folding her arms across her chest. “Now. I swear to God, you ghost me and I find out you’re cheating on—”
“I’m not cheating!” Momo exclaims, looking absolutely petrified at the idea. “I’m not, God that would be crazy. And disgusting. That was my roommate!”
Nayeon simply looks at her, urging her to continue.
“I... uh.. I may have... exaggerated. About the New Year’s Eve party,” Momo admits, completely back to being bashful and apologetic.
Nayeon’s confusion still doesn’t wane. “Exaggerated how?”
“Well, at first I thought at worst it’ll be you, me, and Jeongyeon. Uh, my roommate. But apparently she’s leaving tonight to go to her parents’. I did try inviting a bunch of people, but it was so last minute that no one had promised. I just thought it would be weird, you know? If I’m the only one here, then—”
“Momo,” she interrupts, taking a step closer and placing a soothing hand on her shoulder. “I still have no idea what you’re talking about. Explain slower.”
Momo shuts her eyes closed with a deep sigh. “There is no party. I just wanted to invite you to my home like an idiot for New Year’s Eve. I just didn’t know how. I thought it’d be weird, you know? We’ve known each other for a month, you might think I’m a creep. But it’s creepier if I mention a party and there’s no one here. I’ve been trying to put something together for the past week, but it’s nearly impossible. Honestly, I don’t know why I said that. Jeongyeon is right. I, uh. I’m really sorry.”
Nayeon can’t help it — laughter bubbles out of her throat, and soon enough she’s guffawing in the hallway, hand holding onto Momo’s shoulder for support now. The entire ramble is playing in her head, and honestly, this entire thing is just so silly.
“Oh my God,” she wheezes, shaking her head. “Momo, what am I going to do with you?”
She meets her eyes tentatively, like Nayeon’s a ticking time bomb. Which she is, but Momo doesn’t really know that.
“Hopefully.. still talk to me... and not think I’m a total weirdo loser?” she suggests with an uneasy smile.
“Oh, you’re way past that,” Nayeon deadpans. “You’re crazy, ridiculous, a weirdo, a loser...”
Momo’s smile slowly falls, but Nayeon steps closer and presses a kiss on the corner of her mouth.
“Thank God you’re sweet, sexy, and nice. I think that kind of makes up for it,” she adds, taking the hand that’s frozen in the back of Momo’s neck and intertwining their fingers. “Don’t you agree?”
“A hundred percent,” she nods vigorously, and for a moment Nayeon’s worried her head might fall off. There’s a smile forming in Momo’s face that she’s fighting, and it’s contagious, making Nayeon bite her lip.
“You know, you’re just as crazy. You could’ve just called.”
“I am crazy,” Nayeon states, challenging her to say something about it.
Momo’s smile breaks across her face, bright, with her eyes in crinkles. She gently presses a kiss on Nayeon’s forehead, the heat of the contact spreading across her face like a supernova.
“I know. That’s good. I like crazy.”
“You could always just ask,” Nayeon says, thumb brushing across the back of Momo’s hand. “It’s not weird just cause we’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks. Who cares. Time’s all made up anyway.”
“Ah. You did start going to the gym in December,” Momo says, her nose scrunching adorably. “You know, most people wait for January.”
“I’m not most people,” Nayeon points out.
Momo’s expression fades into something softer, and there’s that look again. This time, Nayeon pieces it together, finally understanding all of it — amusement, disbelief, wonder.
“I know.” Momo smiles.