Archive of Our Own

if you ever read this story

maybe, we would be lovers by then (this story)

so if we, we might be listening to this song

“Moka!”

Jolting up from her slouched position, Moka blinks. The airplane seat wasn’t that comfortable, but after being awake since five in the morning to load her boxes and suitcase into the van and the whole boarding process at the airport, even a two-hour flight and a stiff plane seat was enough to knock her out. From the crick in her neck to her aching back, it takes Moka a moment to adjust.

A hand waves in her vision. Her dad is grinning widely at her when she turns. He’s holding out a salt bread to her, probably from his carry-on. Belatedly, she realizes she still has her earbuds in, so she takes one out when he begins to speak. “We’re about to land soon. You hungry?” 

Moka stares at the bread—any other time, she would’ve taken it gladly, but the stale plane air and the pulsing behind her eyes weren’t doing her any favors. She blanches, then smiles apologetically. “No, I’m okay. Thanks anyway, Dad.” 

“No problem, kiddo.” He opens the bread for himself and begins chewing away. 

Across the aisle, Moka notices her mom and sister still sleeping, her sister’s head on her mom’s shoulder and her mom’s head on top of hers like a stack of chipmunks. She sneaks a picture and giggles, making a mental note to send it to the family group chat later when she’s connected to Wi-Fi. 

A flight attendant makes her rounds up and down the aisles, telling passengers to reverse their reclined seats and unplug their headsets. She’s all polite bows and kind gestures when she gets to Moka’s row, and Moka nods once when she recites the same instructions. Before she unplugs her earbuds, though, she wants to let the song cruise to the end, so Moka replaces the earbud and sits back in her seat.

It’s a funky love song, picked from the selection of Korean idol songs in this plane’s music catalogue. The lyrics flow pleasantly in one ear and out the other as Moka watches the scenery outside the window. The sparkle of 8AM urban Seoul greets her. Soon, she’ll have to get used to speaking and reading in Korean, courtesy of her parents’ job moving them to Namyangju, but for now she lets the Korean lyrics wash over her. 

The song nears its end as the narrator gushes about her novel-worthy love story. Moka snorts, but she imagines it anyway. 

What would it be like to have a high school romance in Korea? In Japan, giving the second button of one’s uniform was a staple of romance, but sitting now in a plane to Korea in the summer of her second year of high school means Moka’s missed her chance to have a Japanese schoolgirl romance. 

Still, the feelings of butterflies and silly crushes are universal, and Moka is still a teenage girl, after all. Moka imagines having a chance encounter with a boy—maybe she’s sitting outside during lunchtime, and a ball rolls over from a nearby game. Moka would pick up the ball and hold it out the boy, and maybe he’d be a little breathless from running over and seeing a pretty girl in front of him—even that’s too cheesy, Sakai Moka, she scolds herself—and their fingers would brush. 

Hm. A small flutter in her heart. Moka watches the buildings come into focus outside the window, and imagines going to the convenience store for snacks next. She’s in the aisle, perusing carefully and looking for her favorite Japanese snacks (of course, they’re not there, but you never know. Globalization is quite pervasive these days), and she reaches out for one. Moka’s about to grab it, but before she can take it, it disappears from under her eyes. She’d look up in surprise, and a pretty girl would be standing there with the snack in hand. Oh, did you want this? she’d ask, and because Moka’s not a shy girl, she’ll reply No, it’s all yours with a cool smile. 

Don’t be delusional, Moka-chan, her sister crows in her head. You’d totally freeze up. 

Well. The scenario isn’t real, anyway, so Moka can imagine anything she pleases. The girl’s smile is warm, maybe a bit teasing, and Moka feels butterflies for real this time. She can’t stop the smile that spreads on her lips as she imagines the encounter. 

Please accept my confession, just this once. The song ends with a quiet and sincere note. Perfect. Moka unplugs the headset and rolls the jack around between her fingers, feeling the grooves against the pads of her finger. Outside, Korea awaits, but for now, it’s just Moka and her thoughts. 

She’s curious, for sure, and a bit nervous. Moka shakes her head. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she turns. 

“Are you ready?” her dad asks in Korean, thick Fukuoka accent coating the words. 

Moka nods. “Yes!” she chirps. Laughing, he squeezes her shoulder once and stands. Moka hurries to do the same, putting aside her headset and blanket and stretching out her sore limbs. 

Time to face the music. 

복도 저편에 선 너, 햇살을 당겨

you standing at the end of the hallway, pulling the sunlight

첫눈에 반해 네게 빠져 

I fell in love with you at first sight 

바로바로바로바로 난

me, right away right away right away right away

“Let’s go get groceries!” her mom had said. “It’ll be a good chance to practice Korean!” 

And Moka had huffed and sighed, but got in the taxi nonetheless. A taxi, because neither of her parents have their Korean driver’s licenses yet, but the alternative was staring at their empty fridge and cupboards while the humid summer air permeated their apartment. 

“At least the grocery store will have air conditioning,” Moka whispers to her sister. 

“What was that?” her mom calls from the front. “I don’t speak Japanese, sorry!”

Moka and her sister giggle behind their hands instead. Their giggles turn into full-blown laughter when one of their stomachs grumbles, and soon even their mom can’t help but crack a smile. 

“I’m saving my Korean for school,” Moka tells her mom cheekily, still in Japanese. 

Her mom, as expected, retorts in Korean, “How will you speak if you don’t practice?” 

Moka pouts. “I guess,” she mumbles. Her sister only laughs harder, which earns her a sharp look from Moka. 

“Hey. Your Korean’s not even as good as mine, so you can’t laugh.” At her sister’s doe-eyed look of confusion, Moka sticks out her tongue. As expected, she didn’t understand anything Moka said. 

“Your Korean is very good!” The driver pipes up front. He takes a hand off the wheel to give them a thumbs up. “Where did you learn?” 

“Ah, thank you.” Her mom gives Moka an appraising look. “We are originally from Japan, but I like Korean music, and I played it for my daughters when they grew up. My eldest seems to have grasped it quicker than her sister, though.” She and the driver share a chuckle. 

Moka’s sister leans over to whisper, “What’d she say?” 

Switching to Japanese so the driver won’t understand, Moka responds, “She said I’m way better than you.”

“Moka, be nice,” her mom scolds lightly. Moka dodges her sister’s hand and sits back in her seat. With the windows rolled down, the breeze that hits her face is nice and cool, a welcome reprieve from the humidity of midsummer Korea. 

When they arrive, Moka makes sure to say, “Thank you, ahjussi!” and bow politely as she steps out of the car. She comes up on one side of her mom, her sister on her other side, and loops an arm through hers. 

“What are we getting today, eomma?” Moka pulls out a cart from by the door and steers it inside the store. She nods along when her mom lists off their grocery list items, and shrugs when her sister cocks her head at her. 

“Don’t look at me,” Moka says, “I’m just the cart driver. You go get the stuff with Mom.”

“But I don’t know what she said!” her sister whines stubbornly, still speaking in Japanese. They go down one aisle, trailing behind their mom, and continue to squabble. 

“This is how you get better at Korean, brat.” Moka knocks hips with her sister. “Now go. You’re not gonna let Mom get everything by herself, right?” She smiles smugly when her sister grumbles and finally trudges ahead to where their mom is. 

Finally. Now Moka is free to stare at everything in the store in peace. Everything, from the signs to the brands to the prices, is in Korean. True to her word, she practices by reciting everything under her breath. 

Korean grocery stores, she finds, aren’t so different from the ones in Japan, at least the ones in Fukuoka where she was. While her mom and sister chatter up front in a mix of Korean and Japanese, Moka hangs back and mulls over the different products on the shelves.

When she turns the corner, Moka happens to glance over her shoulder and nearly bumps into the shelves in the process. 

In her line of vision stands a girl, probably about her age, with long black hair and a quiet aura about her. She’s not looking at Moka, instead staring out the window, and the sunlight that falls through the glass bathes her in a soft glow that highlights the crown of her head and stretches of pale skin under her T-shirt and shorts. She’s ethereal. Moka’s breath catches in her throat. 

Before the girl can catch her looking, Moka turns back around and continues down the aisle. She replays the image of the girl in her mind, turning it over in her mind as she idly pushes the cart. Moka didn’t need to see her face to know she was pretty. 

In her daze, Moka doesn’t realize she’s bumped the cart against her sister’s legs until she cries out. 

“Hey! Watch it!” Her sister, holding a pack of frozen shrimp, scowls at her. “Man, why are you driving if you can’t even avoid hitting anything?” 

“Don’t be rude,” Moka snaps. “I’ll respond to that when you tell me in Korean.”

Her sister just huffs and rolls her eyes. She sets the shrimp down into the cart and turns, flicking her hair over her shoulder. 

What a pain. Do little sisters ever stop being annoying? 

When they reach the checkout lanes, Moka diligently unloads the contents of their basket onto the conveyor belt, but her mind is elsewhere. When she straightens up, Moka chances a glance towards the front of the store again. Just a quick one, a casual look over her shoulder.

The girl isn’t quite by the window anymore, having moved more inward towards the fruit section, but it’s almost like she’s pulling the sunlight with her. Streaks of light trail after her, climbing up her legs and almost shimmering as the girl stands there, examining a peach in her hand. 

From here, Moka can see her side profile now. She sees a high, straight nose and sharp but round cheekbones, and what are possibly the biggest eyes she’s ever seen. The girl is a manhwa character incarnate. She looks like she should be in one of those Pocari Sweat commercials. 

(Having micro-crushes on strangers in public is normal, Moka reasons. Whether it’s a well-dressed teen at the airport or a passerby on the street or a beautiful girl perusing fruits at the grocery store, Moka can appreciate a pretty person. The fact that they’ll likely never see each other again makes it that much more thrilling, in Moka’s opinion.)

Moka’s heart skips a beat. She turns back to the cashier, blinking slightly, and absent-mindedly moves out of the way as the worker loads their items back into the cart. Before they go, Moka runs a hand through her hair and adjusts her shirt around the collar. Not for any particular reason, but if she turns to the girl one last time as they leave, it’s nobody’s business but Moka’s. 

The girl doesn’t notice her look, hadn’t noticed any of them throughout their brief time spent in the same grocery store, but it doesn’t matter. The sun streams through the window of their taxi, feeling more like a caress now than the harsh shine of earlier, but as Moka rests her head on the window, she finds the tingle she feels under her skin has nothing to do with the sun’s warmth. 

근데 자꾸만 우리 둘 서로 눈이 마주쳐

but our eyes keep meeting each other

넌 왜 수줍게 고개를 돌려

why do you shyly turn your head?

oui, oui, oui

On the way to the first day of school in her dad’s company-issued car, Moka picks at the hem of her skirt. Her dad chatters up front, but Moka only half-hears him over the light pitter-patter of raindrops against the window and the steady sounds of the windshield wiper. Like Japan, Korea has a monsoon season, too. 

Her dad veers off of the main road and pulls into the parking lot of the school, cruising to a slow drive in search of a parking spot. Moka presses her face to the glass, marveling at the school—her new high school, for the remaining year and a half before she enters university. 

There’s a sloping path up a hill towards the front of the school, and Moka sees students in little pods of two and three milling about. She’d pestered her dad to take her early today, so the bell hasn’t rung quite yet. Once the car is parked, her dad steps out and opens an umbrella with a flourish. 

Even in the rain, it’s hot. Humid, more like. Falling into step with her dad, Moka holds a hand out from under the umbrella to feel the rain. The droplets are few but steady, and the heat in the air pricks at her exposed arms. 

“Let’s go, Moka-chan.” Her dad wraps one arm around her shoulders and veers them onto the path. Moka keeps her head straight, even as other students peer at them curiously. 

What, is it your first time seeing a foreign student? Moka thinks wryly. Or maybe it's the novelty of being walked into school by your parent, where kids her age would usually walk by themselves or wait with their friends. Well. I don’t care. 

They enter the main building and navigate to the front office. Walking down the hallways, Moka takes her chance to do a bit of staring of her own, observing the cliques of students and the click-clack of her penny loafers against the linoleum. Inside, the humidity is abated by strong air conditioning, causing Moka to shiver involuntarily. 

Her dad holds open the office door for her and greets the teachers with his energetic Korean. Moka stays slightly behind his arm. Inside, there are lines of cubicles not unlike the offices of high schools in Japan, and the teachers are as busy-looking and bustling as ever. First day rush, Moka supposes. Er, second semester first day rush? 

While her dad talks to the dean, Moka’s wandering eyes land on a couple nearby students conversing with a teacher. She squints, tilting her head slightly to get a better look, and freezes. 

It’s you. 

The girl from the grocery store stands slightly behind a taller girl, who is nodding along fervently with everything the teacher is saying. The taller girl bows, and the girl from the grocery store follows suit, bowing politely to the teacher with her hands folded neatly in front of her. Moka takes in her appearance: she’s wearing the summer uniform, just like Moka, so she sees the same long and elegant arms from that time at the grocery store. 

When the girls turn, Moka doesn’t avert her eyes right away. She pretends to be casually surveying the room, as if she only happened to be looking in her direction when the girl’s eyes meet hers. 

Large, brown eyes widen in surprise when she spots Moka. Moka stares back, wondering if she should wave, or maybe smile, but she’s pulled back into the conversation in front of her before she can. It seems her friend is trying to talk to her anyway as they walk away, so Moka refocuses her attention forward. 

“Moka-chan, listen to this teacher’s words.” Her dad settles a hand on her shoulder. 

Behind the desk, the teacher gives her a kind smile. She holds out a schedule for her, explaining the homeroom she’s assigned to and the different classes that will cycle through her room throughout the day. 

“And now, you’ll meet your student guide. Come in.” The teacher directs the last part to someone behind Moka. When she glances over her shoulder, she makes eye contact with the girl again and nearly jumps. 

The girl widens her eyes too, as if caught staring, and Moka wonders for a moment if she’s her student guide. Her heart begins to pick up its beat. She opens her mouth to say something—Hi?—but the girl turns first. She ducks her head shyly and leans in to whisper to her friend, the taller girl, with a hand cupped by her ear. 

The friend grins widely at Moka, winks obnoxiously to the girl, and steps forward towards Moka and her dad. Moka watches the girl disappear out into the hallway over the friend’s shoulder, but not before glancing back one last time and meeting Moka’s eyes again. Moka feels the same rush zing through her veins. 

“Hello! My name is Noh Yunah! I will be your student guide for today!” The friend Yunah holds out a hand with a dazzling smile. 

“Ah, hello.” Moka takes her hand and tries not to let surprise show on her face when Yunah shakes it enthusiastically. 

With a bow to Moka’s dad, Yunah chirps, “Hello to you, too, sir!” 

“Oh ho! Hello, Yunah-ssi. Please take care of our Moka today!” 

“Yes sir! I will!” 

Her dad chuckles at Yunah’s energy and squeezes Moka’s shoulder once. “Alrighty. Moka-chan, I’m going to get going now. Be good today, okay?” 

Moka rolls her eyes fondly. “Yes, Dad. I’m not five.” 

“You’re still my baby.” Her dad drops a kiss on the top of her head and pulls her into a quick hug. “Bye now. Tell me all about your day when you get home!” With a wave, he’s out the door. 

Behind Moka, the teacher chuckles. Moka inches closer to the counter as she says, “I’ll let the two of you get to know each other. Moka-ssi, if you have any questions, don’t be afraid to ask Yunah-ssi.”

“Yup! I know this school like the back of my hand!” Still wearing her bright smile, Yunah holds out a hand to Moka. “Let’s go, Moka-chan!” 

Moka stares at her hand for a moment, then takes it gingerly. “Alright,” she says, a little quietly. “Let’s go.” 

Out in the hallway, Yunah pulls her along. She points out anything and everything, talking Moka’s ear off right off the bat as she introduces the lunchroom and the different classroom wings and the playground and the restrooms and everything else. Moka’s mind hurries to catch everything she’s saying and mentally translate, but her efforts are fruitless. After a while, Moka just lets her words wash over her in a cascade of chatter. It’s all very new, and a bit overwhelming, and Moka focuses on just staying in step with Yunah. 

Finally, Yunah stops them in front of a classroom. “You’re in my homeroom, Moka-chan,” Yunah announces cheerfully. “But the bell’s not going to ring yet, so we have some time to kill. Come with me.” Yunah gestures for Moka to follow her, like she wasn’t already sticking to Yunah like gum to a sidewalk. “Let me buy you a snack.” 

They approach a vending machine, and here Moka perks up. Snacks. There’s an assortment of Korean drinks and chips; to her disappointment, none of her usual snacks are there. Well, duh. This is Korea, not Japan. 

At her look, Yunah smiles, curious. “Where are you from?” 

Looking up from the snacks, Moka blinks. “Oh, um. Fukuoka.” 

Yunah’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’re Japanese? Wow, I would’ve thought you were Korean!” 

“Ah, no.” Moka laughs awkwardly. “I recently moved here.” Then, “why’d you call me Moka-chan if you didn’t know I was Japanese?” 

“Oh, I just thought your dad was being young and hip, calling you -chan. That was your dad, right?” Moka nods. Yunah smiles, a bit mischievously if Moka’s interpreting her expression correctly. “My friend was wondering, so I’ll let her know.” 

“Your friend?” Moka straightens up a bit. She was preoccupied with memorizing where everything was and keeping up with Yunah, but now the girl from the grocery store returns to the forefront of her mind. 

“Yeah, you saw her, right?” Yunah leans against the vending machine. “Her name is Park Minju. People call her an ice queen, but she’s a total softie, trust me. She was curious about you back there in the office.” 

Moka feels herself flush despite the air conditioning in the building. “Oh, really?” she murmurs. She rubs a hand on her arm. 

“Too bad she’s not in our homeroom. Anyway, what snack did you want?” Yunah gestures to the vending machine. “Pick any you’d like. It’s on me, as your trusty student guide.” Moka is grateful for it, partly because her dad gave her some won this morning but Moka’s still not used to the conversion rates between yen and won. There’s something nerve-wracking about handling foreign currency, even if Moka’s supposed to start getting used to it now.

With a finger to her chin, Moka thinks of the girl—Minju—standing in that grocery store, holding a peach in the bright summer sunlight. “I’ll have that peach drink,” she decides, pointing to it. 

Yunah makes a sound of approval and slides her coins into the slot. “That’s a popular one. Minju likes that drink, but I prefer the chocolate one.” She adds it to their selection and the bottles rattle out the bottom of the vending machine. Yunah picks them up in one smooth swoop and holds out the peach one to Moka. “Here you go!” 

Moka murmurs her thanks. The can is cold against her fingers, made colder still by the chill in the building. Outside, the light drizzle has cleared, allowing some sunlight to peek through the grey clouds. Yunah hums a jolly tune as they walk side by side.

Taking a sip of her drink, Moka makes a sound of surprise. Yunah flashes her a smile. “It’s good, right?”

Moka nods, pleasantly surprised. With the sun streaming through the windows and a cold drink in her hand, Moka thinks, hello, Korea. Sakai Moka is here.  

연애소설 같은 내 story (내 story)

my story that’s like a romance novel (my story)

널 우연하게 만나고 엇갈려도 괜찮아

even if I meet you by chance or pass you by, it’s okay

True to her word, Yunah gets them back to the classroom in time for the bell. She locates her seat—it’s in the back left corner, by the window overlooking the field. On a small plastic plaque sealed to the corner of her desk reads Sakai Moka, written in Korean characters. Moka settles into her seat, and Yunah takes the one next to her. 

“You’re lucky,” Yunah comments with a grin. “They gave you the best seat, as a warm welcome to Korea.” 

“I certainly feel warm,” Moka jokes. The clouds have cleared even more now, so the sun coats Moka’s left arm. It really is a nice seat, though; Moka gets a clear view of both the classroom, so she can people-watch, and the field, so she can observe the environment outside.

When the teacher comes in, he calls Yunah and Moka to the front. Yunah, as the class president, introduces Moka to the class and invites them to treat her well and take care of her. Standing up at the whiteboard, Moka feels the prickle of twenty-something pairs of eyes on her. Some are disinterested, but others lean forward in their seats to see her. 

Moka bows politely, keeping her eyes trained downward. Once they’re back to their seats, Yunah leans across the aisle and whispers, “They like you.” 

“Me?” Moka points a finger to herself. “They just met me.” 

“You’re a pretty girl, Moka-chan. Be proud of it.” Yunah gives her another encouraging smile. 

Flushing again, Moka mumbles her thanks. She takes out her notebooks and pencils once the teacher starts writing on the board and lines them up on the table. She briefly weighs the benefits and drawbacks of note-taking in Japanese versus Korean, and decides to stick to Japanese just for today. 

The class period goes by in a flash, and soon the class is waving goodbye to the teacher as the passing period begins. Some students get up to go to the restroom or get snacks or just stand by their friends’ desks. Yunah, Moka is beginning to find, is a total social butterfly. As the class president, she seems to know everyone in the room, greeting them casually and joking around with them as she flits from desk to desk. 

With her sole contact bouncing around the room, Moka feels a little awkward. She stares out the window towards the green field. Reaching into her pocket, Moka takes out her earbuds and pops them in. 

Moka’s only on her second song when Yunah’s booming voice cuts through her music. 

“Ah! Park Minju has come to grace us with her presence!” She turns towards the commotion and sees a head poke into the classroom. Moka watches, her heartbeat speeding up slightly, as Minju enters carefully. 

“Are you here to visit me, Minju-ssi?” Yunah grins slyly at Minju. They meet somewhere near the front of the room, but with both earbuds in and an inability to read lips in Korean, Moka doesn’t catch what they say. She watches them intently.

Then, Minju turns, and her gaze seems to be searching, scanning the room until they land on Moka’s face. For the third time today, Moka sees her brown eyes widen. 

Moka’s breath catches in her throat when Minju approaches her desk. She doesn’t blink as Minju pulls out the chair in front of Moka’s desk, settling in it sideways and turning towards Moka. Around them, the students seem to be in hushed conversation, but Moka doesn’t notice them with Minju in front of her. 

Up close, Minju’s eyes are bigger than any eyes Moka has ever seen. Despite that, her face is small and pretty and sharp, giving Moka the impression of a stone idol carefully molded and sculpted to mimic a goddess. 

“Bonjour,” Minju says. Moka blinks in surprise. She can only sit in growing confusion as Minju continues speaking in what Moka can only assume to be French. Moka watches the shape of her lips as she speaks, pinching and flattening as she pronounces the words.  

Why is Minju speaking in French? 

Moka stares at Minju helplessly. When it becomes clear that Minju’s not going to get a response, she gives Moka an awkward smile. Still speaking in French, Minju points to Moka’s earbuds. 

She takes out her left one in surprise. Minju nods, pleased that Moka is understanding her, and says something else. Still in French. 

Moka can’t make her mouth speak, for whatever reason, so she tries the next best thing. Reaching across the desk, she places the earbud in Minju’s ear. 

She feels Minju gasp slightly as Moka holds the earbud against her ear. Now, Moka is hyperaware of the upbeat 2nd generation K-pop that’s playing through her earbuds, the earbuds that are currently being shared between Moka and Minju. We’re sharing earbuds, Moka thinks, a bit dazed. 

Minju’s mouth forms a small o. “You’re listening to Korean music,” Minju marvels. Moka blinks again and retracts her hand quickly, beginning to wrap up the earbuds. 

Staring at Moka, Minju lets out a sheepish laugh. “You can understand Korean, can’t you?” 

Moka returns her awkward smile. “Yes,” she admits quietly. 

Minju leans her head towards her. “Huh? What was that?” 

Moka clears her throat. “I said, yes,” she repeats, a little louder. A blush is beginning to rise on her cheeks. 

“Oh.” Minju nods once, still smiling awkwardly. They just stare at each other, and Moka feels a heat prickle at the back of her neck. 

Minju bites her lip. “That was a nice song you were listening to. You like K-pop?”

Moka nods shyly. “I like the older music.” She watches Minju’s eyes light up. “Like SNSD and Wonder Girls.” 

“Cool, cool.” Minju nods. She gives Moka a friendly smile. “You have a nice voice, uh—” Minju trails off, looking at Moka cautiously.

“Moka.”

“Right. You have a nice voice, Moka.” Minju smiles slightly.

“Ah, thank you.” Moka ducks her head. She fiddles with her earbuds in her lap, alternating between looking at Minju and looking elsewhere. Somehow, Moka can’t look at her straight-on. 

Overhead, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break. Minju glances at the bell, then at Moka. “Well. I should probably get going, right?” She stands and smooths down her skirt. “It was nice to meet you, Moka-ssi.”

“You too.” Moka doesn’t expect it, but Minju holds out a hand for her to shake. Moka tries not to let her hand shake as she takes Minju’s. It’s warm, a little clammy, though Moka can’t tell if it’s her or Minju. It’s also a bit unexpected, if Moka’s being honest, but maybe Minju’s just the kind of person to shake hands with people her age.

Moka watches her walk to the door. Yunah breaks off from the conversation she was having and loops her arm with Minju’s, saying loudly, “Let me walk you out!” 

Moka stares down at her wound up earbuds, the ones she shared with Minju. They seem innocuous, just sitting in the palm of her hand. 

So that was Park Minju. Moka lets herself smile slightly. Nice to meet you, Minju-ssi. 

(“So what was that about?” 

Minju pushes Yunah’s arm. “Noh Yunah, you snake! Why did you tell me she was French?” 

“What, you couldn’t tell she was Japanese?” Yunah blinks innocently at Minju. 

“You told me she was born and raised in France!” 

“Well, it’s your fault for believing me,” Yunah says breezily. “You know only half the stuff I say is true.” 

Minju shakes her head. Maybe she really should have known, so that she could prevent embarrassing herself in front of the pretty new girl. 

Moka. She’d said her name so quietly, but her voice was so melodious. Minju replays her short words in her head. And she was listening to K-pop, too. She was already interesting, this Moka girl. 

Evidently, Yunah can tell what Minju’s thinking. She bumps her shoulder, grinning devilishly. “What? She’s cute, right?” 

“You can’t hit on your transfer student, Yunah. That’s bad tact.” 

“Yeah, well, you can. Don’t think I didn’t notice your little smile back there.” 

“What about it!” Minju retorts hotly. “I can smile!” 

“Not often, ice queen.” Yunah makes an appreciative sound. “Wow, our new student is so lucky, getting a smile from the queen bee already.” She pretends to address Moka. “She doesn't smile at just anybody, Moka-ssi. You should feel special.” 

“Shut up,” Minju grumbles. “You’re making me sound bitchy.” 

Yunah smirks and pats her arm. “You’re right. You’re not bitchy, you’re just awkward as hell.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Minju groans. She brings a hand to her face, mentally scolding herself for monologuing in French to Moka. “You know I’m not that good at French, too. How could you set me up like that?” 

“Don’t worry,” Yunah reassures. “I’m sure Moka was totally charmed by your knowledge of worldly languages.” 

“Stop making fun of me. It was seriously embarrassing. She probably thought I was so weird.” 

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” Yunah pats her shoulder energetically. “Anyway, we gotta get to class. Look forward to lunch today!” Before Minju can ask what she means by that, Yunah is off, skipping happily back into the classroom. 

“That girl,” Minju mutters. Before she leaves, she sneaks one more glance into the classroom. Yunah sits down at her seat in the back, next to Moka. She immediately engages her in conversation, and Minju watches Moka nod along hesitantly. 

Ah, poor Moka. She has to deal with Yunah’s nonstop talking. Still, Minju can see Moka getting comfortable in real time, her shoulders relaxing and small laughs brightening her face as Yunah chatters. 

Hello, Moka-ssi. Please don’t hate me. Minju lets her gaze linger a little longer before she finally turns and retreats down the hall.)

고백하지 못하는 내 heart

my heart that can’t confess

먼발치서 쳐다보고 마음만 더 커져가

looking at you from afar, my heart just keeps growing

When the third period ending bell rings, Moka taps on Yunah’s shoulder. Faced with her encouraging smile, Moka carefully formulates her next words. 

“Where is the fine arts building?” 

Yunah’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “Is your next class in that building?” 

Moka nods. “It’s—” she double-checks her schedule, “—photography.” 

“Ah. I guess we don’t have the exact same schedule.” Yunah brightens up, pointing a finger in the air. “Let me walk you there! As your student guide, I have to make sure you arrive safely to every one of your classes!” 

Cracking a smile at her antics, Moka lets herself be led by Yunah. She’s only known her for a couple hours, but she can tell they’re becoming fast friends. Even though Moka is usually quiet with new people, Yunah talks enough to make up for it, and does it all without making Moka feel left out of the conversation. 

“So, you chose photography as your elective, huh?” Yunah glances at Moka with a kind smile as they walk through the hallway. 

“Yes. I like taking pictures.” Moka smiles softly. 

“Well, I’ve never taken the class, but I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun.” Yunah stops in front of a classroom door and throws her arm out with a flourish. “Here we are! I’ll come by after this period to pick you up, so just get comfortable here! See you later!” With a cheerful wave, Yunah departs in the direction they came in. 

Moka smiles gratefully and turns to the door. There are already students milling about in the room, so Moka takes a hesitant step inside. Thankfully, no one seems to pay her much mind outside of a couple glances, allowing Moka to go unnoticed as she heads to a seat towards the back and sets her bag down. When the bell rings and the teacher enters, Moka goes through the same introductions she had this morning, complete with a quick bow and a meek smile. 

Unlike the digital camera that Moka is used to, this class focuses on the proper usage of larger professional cameras. Up front, the teacher clicks through a slideshow. Moka does her best to follow along when the teacher goes through different compositions laid out in the slideshow, along with the different classifications of cameras. 

When the teacher disappears into a back room to grab the class set of cameras, Moka feels a tap on her shoulder. Turning in surprise, Moka finds a curious girl looking back at her. 

“Hello,” the girl says. Blinking, Moka realizes she’s speaking Japanese. She tries to place the girl’s accent as she says, “My name is Hokazono Iroha, and I’m a first-year. You’re Sakai Moka, right?” Moka marvels at how soft and cute her voice is.  

“You’re Japanese?” Moka winces internally at the bluntness of her words. 

Luckily, the girl doesn’t seem to mind. “Yes. I thought I was the only Japanese girl at this school, so I was surprised when you came.” She gives Moka a furtive smile. 

Smiling back, Moka feels relief wash over her. After spending the whole morning in a Korean bubble, switching back to Japanese is a much-needed break. “I’m glad. Where in Japan are you from, Iroha-chan?” 

“Tokyo. You, Moka-senpai?”

“Hey, don’t call me that,” Moka admonishes with a laugh. “Just Moka-chan is fine. I’m from Fukuoka, but my parents moved us here because of work.” 

Iroha nods. When the teacher comes back, she takes the empty seat next to Moka with a shy smile. The teacher distributes the class cameras to the students, and Iroha walks Moka through operating the camera and all of its different buttons. As they work, Moka and Iroha continue conversing in Japanese. 

“What about you? What brings you to Korea?” Moka asks curiously. 

Iroha pinks, hands fiddling with the camera. “I like to dance,” she admits. “I was scouted by a Korean dance company, so I’m living with a cousin while I attend their courses. That’s usually what I do after school, too.” She smiles nervously. 

“Whoa. That’s so cool, Roha-chan!” Moka gives her a sly smile. “You have to show me your moves sometime.” 

“Aw, thanks, Moka-chan.” Iroha glows, a pleased grin on her face. “So, how do you like Korea so far?” 

Moka takes a moment to think back over her first day. Since settling in a few weeks before the beginning of the second semester, Moka had gone adventuring on her own and with her sister to get used to the new environment. “But today was my first time talking extensively in Korean,” she tells Iroha. 

Iroha hums. She aims the camera at the window, takes a shot of the tree swaying lightly outside, and shows the picture to Moka with a grin. “Your Korean’s pretty good, though?” 

“Ah, that’s all thanks to my mom. She played K-pop for me when I was young, and she insists on only speaking Korean at home so we can practice.” 

Iroha’s eyes sparkle as she makes an appreciative sound. “Your mom sounds cool!” Then, “Did the school give you a student guide today?”

Moka sits up. “They did, actually.” She thinks back to this morning, when she had put the earbud in Minju’s ear, and feels her cheeks heat up at the memory. 

“Ooh, what’s with that look?” Iroha’s eyes gleam. “Do you like her?” Her tone is playful, a bit teasing. Moka flushes and holds up her hands to deny it. 

“No, no, not like that!” 

“Aw, it’s okay, Moka-chan. I liked my student guide, too.” 

“Eh?” Moka looks at Iroha with wide eyes. “Wait, tell me all about it.” 

“Nuh-uh! You first!” Iroha points a finger at Moka. “Why’d you smile like that when I asked you about your student guide?” 

“Roha-chan,” Moka whines. “Fine, since you’re so persistent. It wasn’t because of my student guide, really, but her friend.” Moka bites her lip to prevent her smile from spreading, but Iroha’s look is already too gleeful for her not to have noticed. 

“What’d she do? Did she gift you something? I remember my student guide gave me a pack of Pepero sticks and my heart fluttered.” Iroha giggles, hiding her face behind her hands. 

“Sounds like you had more fun than me?” Moka bumps her shoulder. “No, it’s because her friend— I saw her before today, at a grocery store a couple weeks ago. And she was so pretty.”  Moka gives Iroha a serious look. “And I mean super pretty. So when I found out she was friends with my student guide, I was so surprised.” 

“Amazing,” Iroha whispers. “That’s why you blushed? Because she was pretty?” 

Moka winces. “Well, not just that. Today, she came into my homeroom, and—” Moka glances around to make sure no one’s listening, even though realistically there was no way Minju was within earshot, and they’re speaking in Japanese anyway. Still, she checks, and she finds some curious students staring at them. Moka quickly turns back around and hurriedly says, “She sat down in front of me.” 

Iroha squeals, clapping her hands together. “So she noticed you, too! What did she say?” 

A laugh bubbles up when Moka remembers what exactly Minju had said, or tried to say. “She started speaking to me in French!” 

“Eh?!” 

“I know, right?” Moka giggles. “The only thing I understood was bonjour when she started talking.”

“Did you stop her?” 

“Ah, well. I had both my earbuds in—” Iroha gives her an incredulous look, “—so I took one out and put it in her ear.”  

Iroha gasps loudly, then shrinks in her seat when eyes turn toward them. “What! I didn’t know you were so bold, Moka-chan!” 

Moka’s cheeks burn. She hurries to shush Iroha. “I’m not usually like that! It’s just, I couldn’t speak for some reason, but I was listening to my K-pop playlist. So I guess I thought, let me show her what I’m listening to.” 

“What was the song?” 

“Tell Me by Wonder Girls.” 

“Ooh, good choice.” Iroha nods approvingly. “I bet she totally fell for you then.” 

“Don’t say that. She was probably just interested because I’m new, and a foreigner. Although—” Moka leans in. Iroha leans in, too, eyes excited. “She said I have a nice voice.” 

“Moka-chan! She’s in love with you!” 

“Hey!” Moka hits Iroha’s shoulder. The girl just laughs and pretends to dodge. “It probably doesn’t mean anything.” 

“But didn’t that make your heart flutter?” 

Sighing, Moka turns the camera around in her hands. “Yes,” she admits, “but enough about me! Tell me about your student guide.” Now it’s Moka’s turn to smirk at Iroha, who reddens as Moka looks at her. 

“Oh, it’s not much. She just showed me around and said if I have any questions later on, I can ask her. But I haven’t talked to her since,” Iroha says sheepishly. 

“Wow, Hokazono Iroha. You’re totally bad at flirting.” 

“Hey, stop it!” Iroha whines. “At least you have someone’s attention already. You should pity me, Moka-chan.” 

Moka opens her mouth to retort, but she’s cut off by the bell. Glancing up in surprise, she realizes the class period just flew by as she was talking to Iroha. She and Iroha hurry to pack their things. As Moka slings her bag over her shoulder, Iroha touches her arm softly. 

“You’re really cool, Moka-chan,” Iroha says earnestly. “I was wondering if you wanted to eat lunch together?” 

Moka’s eyes light up. She takes Iroha’s hands in hers and smiles widely. “Of course, Roha! I think you’re super cool, too.” Moka is glad Iroha asked because she wanted to get to know her more. Iroha seemed like a cute younger sister that Moka wanted to take care of. 

Hey, what about me? Moka’s little sister protests in her mind. Moka mentally sticks her tongue out at her. 

When they step out into the hall, Moka’s about to ask Iroha where her homeroom is so they can walk together, but what she sees stops her in her tracks. 

Yunah grins widely at her from beside the door. On her other side is Minju, who gives Moka a stiff smile when she sees her. Moka’s heart leaps to her throat. 

“Moka-chan! Did you make a new friend?” 

Moka blinks. She glances at Iroha, who stares at the two second-years in surprise. “Ah, yes, I did. This is Iroha.” Moka brandishes a hand at Iroha, and she waves timidly in response. 

“Hello, Iroha! I’m Noh Yunah, and this is Park Minju! We’re here to pick up Moka-chan!” Yunah holds up a thumbs up and turns back to Moka. “Moka, we were wondering if you want to eat lunch with us!” 

When Moka looks at Iroha, she looks back meekly. “You can eat with the senpais, Moka-chan,” Iroha whispers in Japanese. “It’s okay.”

“No, I want to eat with you,” Moka argues. She looks up at Yunah and Minju and gives them a small smile. Switching back to Korean, she says, “Thank you for the invitation, but we already made plans to eat.”

Yunah looks like she wants to say something, but Minju elbows her before she can. Moka gulps slightly when Minju turns her gaze to her. “Were you two heading to class?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay, we’ll get out of your hair.” Minju gives her another careful smile and takes Yunah’s arm. As she tugs her down the hall, Moka hears Yunah protest, “Wait, but I’m her student guide—!” 

When they disappear from view, Iroha turns to her. “Moka-chan! I didn’t know Noh Yunah was your student guide!” 

“Why, do you know her?” Does she have a reputation? Moka thinks back to what Yunah said about Minju: People call her an ice queen, but she’s a total softie, trust me. 

Iroha flushes. “No, nothing like that. Well, I mean, Noh Yunah is the class president of class 2-A, but you might already know that.” With a bashful smile, Iroha says, “It’s because she, and Park Minju too, are friends with my student guide. Lee Wonhee.” 

“Oh.” Moka whistles; at least, her very best attempt at it. “So you’ve been keeping an eye on them?” 

“Not like that!” Iroha protests. “I just— notice her, is all.” 

“Sure, Roha-chan,” Moka says in a sing-song voice. 

Iroha pouts. “You can’t tease me. I saw the way you stiffened when Minju talked to you.”

“Ah, be quiet.”  

소설보다도 소설 같았던 운명

a fate that’s more novel than a novel

같던 내 얘기, 모를 거야

you won’t know my story

너너너너너너너너 넌

you you you you you

Moka doesn’t get her first lunch with Minju until a month later. Noh Yunah is a very persistent girl, so it was only a matter of time before Moka acquiesced. Even if it means sitting across from Minju and pretending she hasn’t thought about her for every day of the last month. 

For this lunch, Yunah said Iroha could come along, too, which is how Moka ends up at a table with Iroha on her right, Yunah across from her, Minju to Yunah’s left, and Lee Wonhee on Minju’s other side. 

(When they sat down, Moka nudged Iroha subtly. Iroha kicked her under the table.)

“So! Iroha-ssi!” Yunah folds her hands under her chin. “Can I call you Iroha-chan?” 

“Sure,” Iroha says softly. For today, since Moka’s the only one Iroha really knows—or is comfortable sitting with, Moka thinks humorously as she watches Iroha pointedly avoid Wonhee’s gaze—Iroha’s sitting extra close to Moka despite being the only two on this side of the table. Ah, young love, Moka thinks wistfully. 

“Wait, that’s so cute! Iroha-chan!” Wonhee chimes in, leaning towards the middle of the table. Iroha leans back slightly, blinking rapidly at the girl. 

“In return, you can just call me Yunah unnie!” Yunah puffs her chest proudly. “And you can call Minju unnie, too!” Minju, who had taken a sip out of her water, chokes. 

“Is that all right with you?” Iroha asks Minju worriedly. She offers Minju a napkin with eyebrows furrowed. 

“Of course.” Minju coughs and gives Iroha a small smile, but turns her gaze to Moka. Realizing she had been idly staring at Minju, and caught at that, Moka glances down at her plate. Her cheeks burn. 

“Let’s all get to know each other!” Yunah claps her hands. Moka is glad for the distraction, and glad for Yunah in general, who is actively trying to diffuse the tension and awkwardness between the group. Moka can’t imagine how this would pan out without her mediation. 

Yunah turns to Moka first. “Moka-chan! Now that it’s been a month, tell us your thoughts on Korea! What do you think?”  

“She’s probably thinking, there’s a weird girl talking to me right now,” Wonhee jokes. When Yunah sputters, Moka hurries to clarify. 

“No, it’s not like that!” She laughs. With Moka speaking, all three of the Korean girls are staring at her now. She tries not to squirm with Minju’s attentive gaze on her. “I do like it here. The people are nice.” 

“Hah! Hear that, Wonhee?” Yunah grins smugly at Wonhee, who just sticks out her tongue in response. “Say, Moka-chan, you never told us why you moved here in the first place.” Yunah looks at her curiously. “Only if you’re willing to share, of course.” 

Moka shrugs. She pushes around a lump of rice with her chopstick as she says, “It’s my parents. Their work moved them to Korea, so they decided to bring my sister and I, too.” 

“Oh, I see. Actually, our Minju here is gonna move soon, too. At the end of the school year.” Yunah pats her arm. “So it’s like fate that you guys met at this time, right?” 

Moka’s eyes widen at Yunah’s words, but Iroha speaks before Moka can say anything. “Where are you moving, Minju unnie?” 

“To the city. My brother’s getting married, so he and his fiance are going to buy an apartment there. They offered to have me live with them for university.” Minju explains it matter-of-factly, but Moka focuses more so on the sound of her voice. Like her, Minju doesn’t talk that much (aside from the occasional bickering with Yunah), so Moka is captivated every time she speaks. 

“Ah, I’m going to miss you!” Yunah drapes her whole body against Minju, who looks incensed. She pushes her lightly, but Yunah stubbornly keeps her arms around Minju. “We’re all going to miss you.” 

“Ey, they just met, unnie,” Wonhee drawls. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“What do you mean? Our Minju has a great personality. Anybody around her would miss her!” This time, Minju successfully pushes Yunah off of her.

“I would,” Moka tries to add, and flushes when all eyes turn to her. 

“You would?” Minju asks. It’s the first time she’s addressed Moka directly since they sat down—Moka feels heat prickle at the back of her neck. 

Iroha, bless her heart, senses the tension and adds, “We all will, Minju unnie.” 

“Right.” Minju nods, keeping her eyes on Moka. Seriously, it’s like Moka doesn’t know how to act with Minju’s attention on her. She tries not to squirm. 

“Anyway, it’s totally fate that you met Minju right now, Moka-chan,” Yunah says. She winks exaggeratedly. The way Yunah is talking, about fate and destiny and timing, is making Moka’s head spin. She’s just joking, right? Even if she is, the implications of her words makes Moka’s heart race more than she’d like to admit. She tries to think of something appropriate to respond with, but Minju beats her to it.

“Speaking of fate.” She still hasn’t taken her eyes off of Moka. “Were you at the local grocery store during the summer? A couple weeks before school, maybe?” 

Moka freezes. “Did you see me?” 

Minju smiles a small smile, one that shows a sliver of her teeth. She has bunny teeth, Moka notices. “I thought I recognized you. When I saw you in the office on the first day, I thought, Is that the pretty girl from the grocery store?” The apples of Minju’s cheeks redden with her words. 

There’s a pause. Then, Wonhee whistles. “Are you flirting, unnie?” 

“Seven out of ten,” Yunah declares. “The delivery could’ve been less stiff.” 

Moka laughs, trying not to betray the frenzy of butterflies in her stomach. Iroha, to her credit, says, “I thought that was pretty sweet, Minju unnie.” 

“Thank you,” Minju sighs. “I was just expressing my real thoughts, but Noh Yunah is a bully.” 

“Hey, you know I’m joking,” Yunah drawls. 

Moka clears her throat. “When did you see me?” 

Minju puts a finger on her chin. “Right before you left? I saw you standing at the checkout with two other people, and I remembered you because you were an unfamiliar face in the neighborhood.” 

Moka nods slowly, trying not to let her wonderment show on her face. Minju saw me that day? Somehow, they’d both noticed each other without the other realizing, and now they’re sitting together. Maybe Yunah is right. 

“You remembered her face on the first day? How romantic, unnie~” Wonhee teases. 

“Isn’t that also fate?” Iroha adds. “You saw each other before you formally met.” 

“Like something straight out of a romance novel.” Yunah nods approvingly. “I’ll be keeping tabs on this blossoming love story.” Moka feels her face burn hot the longer Yunah looks at her like this, eyebrows wriggling and smiling like she knows something Moka doesn’t.

Minju, with reddening ears, hits Yunah’s shoulder. “Don’t mind her,” she tells Moka. “Yunah just likes to talk nonsense sometimes.” 

“You don’t know that,” Yunah retorts. “I could be dead serious right now.” She schools her expression into a sober one, eyes drawn together in a grave face. Moka laughs at her attempt to look serious and hopes the redness in her face has gone down.

“See, she’s laughing.” Yunah winks at Moka. “You’re so much nicer to me than Minju.”

“Have you ever considered she’s laughing at you?” 

“Shut up, Minju.” 

At how close and natural their bickering is, Moka can’t help giggling again. She’s beginning to get comfortable with these girls. With Iroha’s calmness and Yunah’s excitability, balanced by Minju’s wry banter and Wonhee’s commentary, Moka feels herself relax. 

As the others talk, Moka turns over what Yunah said in her mind. It’s fated that you met Minju. Moka feels it, in the way her chest squeezes and her heart races, and she wonders if Minju feels it, too.

너의 앞에서 빨개진 두 볼 용기 내볼게

I’ll try to be brave with my reddening cheeks before you

힘껏 너에게 가까이 갈래

I want to get closer to you with all my might

oui, oui, oui

One day, Yunah invites Moka to come with her to the convenience store after school. “Minju will be there, too,” she’d said with a wink, and Moka faked a scowl to avoid blushing at her tone. Still, Yunah had a point. As much as Moka wanted to get closer to Minju, nearly every interaction they had was awkward or needed to be mediated by a third party. It’s like we can’t approach each other normally without blushing or avoiding eye contact. 

On the walk there, Moka picks at her nails. They’re walking in a line, the three of them, and Yunah is in the middle as she talks their ears off about a ghost she saw in her house. 

“I’m serious!” Yunah insists. “I didn’t turn on the light at first because I just needed water, and the kitchen isn’t that far from the hallway, but then I swear I saw something move at the end of the hallway. It was long and white and flowy— Yah, Park Minju, why are you laughing?” 

Moka glances to the side and sees Minju covering her mouth with her hand, eyes sparkling. She meets Moka’s eyes and gives her a knowing look. “Maybe you were seeing things. What time was it, anyway?” 

“I didn’t check the time. I just remember waking up on my English homework, and my mouth was super dry. So I went to get some water, and that’s when I saw her.” 

“Her?” Minju’s voice is incredulous. 

Moka snickers. “Maybe you had a stress-induced hallucination from doing your homework too late,” she suggests. Moka tries to hide her smile when Minju laughs at that. 

“Yah, she’s right, Yunah,” she teases. “You should really watch more horror movies, so you don’t get easily spooked at things like this.”

“You know I don’t like horror movies,” Yunah grumbles. “That would just freak me out more, I swear.” 

“You don’t like horror movies?” The three of them come up to the stoplight and stop, forming a loose triangle as they wait for the light. Moka’s smile unfurls as she stares at Yunah. “You’re missing out.” 

Minju gasps lightly. She looks at Moka curiously. “You like horror, Moka-chan?” 

Pinking, Moka nods proudly. “It’s like my specialty. I watch one every night before I go to sleep.”

The light turns and the three of them start walking again. As she walks, Minju tilts her body so she’s facing Moka head-on. “That’s amazing. What’s your favorite movie?” 

“A Quiet Place. I’ve watched it almost twenty times already.” Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but she doesn’t have to know that. All Moka needs her to know is that she’s serious about horror movies. 

“Ooh, that’s a good one.” Minju points a thumb at herself and says, “Mine’s Train to Busan.” 

Moka’s eyes light up. “That’s on my watchlist! I haven’t gotten the opportunity to watch it yet.” Maybe she should’ve, considering she’s in Korea now, but Moka’s been sticking to her classics. Even if Korea feels unfamiliar, Moka can take comfort in her familiar movies. 

With a sly smile, Minju says, “You should come watch it with me sometime. This one’s too scared every time I ask.” 

“Can you guys plan your movie date somewhere else?” Yunah interrupts loudly. “Preferrably not in my face?” 

Startled, both Moka and Minju laugh at Yunah’s outburst. Yunah grumbles about being left out of the conversation, to which Minju retorts that she is the conversation 80% of the time. Before long, they’re standing in front of the convenience store and Moka’s laughing at the next small thing Yunah and Minju are bickering about. 

When they step inside, Yunah slings her arms over both their shoulders. “Here’s the plan,” she tells them. “We’re all going to pick out our top five snacks, and then we’ll sit outside and rank them all.” 

She turns to Moka with a grin. “Moka-chan, have you ever been to a Korean convenience store?” When Moka shakes her head, Yunah’s grin somehow grows bigger. 

“Well, you’re going to find out.” Yunah pushes both of them forward and steps forward herself with a triumphant grin. “Let’s go! Moka-chan, since it’s your first time, all your snacks are on me.” 

“Really?” Admittedly, Moka is curious about the kinds of snacks Korea would have, and with Yunah’s offer to cover, she begins to get excited. Free snacks would excite any sane person.

They split off into the different aisles with purpose. She doesn’t know about the others, but Moka takes her snacks very seriously. If they’re going to be doing a ranking of the snacks in this convenience store, then Moka will make sure her picks are at the top of the ranks. 

She starts off in the chips section, but there’s not much of interest there. When she turns the corner and finds herself in the crackers and wafers aisle, Moka cheers quietly. She leans over to peer closely at the assorted bags of snacks. Unfortunately, a lot of the snacks she grew up eating in Japan are absent here in Korea. A recurring theme in Moka’s new life, but the disappointment is still strong every time. 

Moka hears footsteps behind her and straightens up. When she looks over, she finds Minju staring back at her with a similar look of surprise. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Moka furrows her eyebrows. “Looking for snacks?” She means it more as a statement, but it ends up coming out like a question. What kind of question is that, anyway? They’re here to rank snacks, after all. 

Minju seems to realize her words and smiles sheepishly. She steps closer to Moka, so they’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder as they stare at the selection.

“Why’re you frowning?” Minju cocks her head at Moka. 

Realizing that she is frowning, Moka smooths her face over. She gestures to the snacks. “None of the ones I liked in Japan are here,” she laments. 

Minju nods in understanding. “Well, turn that frown upside down,” she quips. She picks up a snack—a bag of foreign pastry bites—and holds it up to Moka. “I’m sure these—” Minju squints, “—La Barquette Chocolate Biscuits will do the trick!” She smiles, a bit wobbly. 

Moka giggles and takes the snacks. “Your French isn’t bad,” she tells her. “Although, I guess I already knew that.” 

Minju runs a hand over her face. “Don’t remind me,” she groans. “I can’t believe I spoke French to you the first time we met.” 

Giggling again, Moka takes a step down the aisle. Minju falls into step beside her. “Why’d you speak French, anyway? Do I seem like a French girl?” 

“No, it’s—” Minju wrings her hands. “Yunah told me you were a foreigner, and I guess she thought it’d be funny if she implied you were born in Japan but lived in France until moving here. For some reason, I believed her.” 

That sounds like something Yunah would do. “Well, I was flattered. Even if I couldn’t understand any of it beyond bonjour.” Moka laughs softly.

Minju groans again. “I don’t think even a French person could understand me. Wonhee’s definitely better at it than me.” 

“Oh, really? I didn’t know she could speak French.” 

For the rest of the time, Moka lets herself walk alongside Minju as they pick out snacks. They talk quietly, about the snacks and their friends and everything else in between. Minju points out her favorite snacks in the store, and Moka responds with descriptions of her own favorite snacks from Japan. 

Then they get on the topic of foods Moka likes eating, and she ends up raving about her grandfather’s salt bread to Minju. “Wow, you’re making me hungry,” Minju comments. “I’ll have to try it someday when I’m in Japan.” 

Moka hums, and feels a swirling in her gut, a tightness in her chest. I want to be closer to you, she thinks to Minju, so she opens her mouth and says, “I can take you. If you visit Japan sometime.”

Minju, looking as surprised as Moka feels at her own boldness, breaks into a soft smile. “I’d like that.” She gives Moka a determined look. “I’ll hold you to that, Sakai Moka.” 

With Minju’s full gaze on her, Moka feels her heart flutter again. She returns the smile with all her strength. “Will do, Park Minju.” 

They round the aisle and walk towards the counter, where Yunah’s engaged in light conversation with the cashier. When she spots them, she gives them a wave. 

“Hey, this was a solo mission to get snacks,” Yunah ribs playfully. “What’re you two doing together?” 

“Just making sure our snacks don’t overlap,” Minju replies smoothly. She grins at Moka. 

“Right.” Yunah eyes them with a knowing glint in her eyes. “I told you the limit was five, though, right?” 

“I’m just holding some of Moka’s snacks for her.” Minju gives Yunah a challenging look. “Is that a crime?” 

“Seems like you’re doting on our Moka-chan a lot, Minju-ssi?” 

“You’re already paying for her,” Minju replies breezily. “Isn’t this just the same?” 

“Guys, we should check out,” Moka interrupts. Watching Minju and Yunah banter is fun, but the poor cashier looks like he’s not paid enough to stand by and listen to all of it.

“Of course, Moka-chan,” Yunah says cheekily. “Can’t wait to rank these snacks?” 

Before Moka can reply, an audible grumble rises in the air. Moka flushes, placing a protective hand on her stomach. “Let’s just pay,” she says quickly. 

Once they’ve got all their snacks, Yunah leads them outside to a nearby table. She pulls up a third chair and gestures for them to sit around the circular table and pour out their snacks. Moka retrieves hers first: a couple bread pastries, a box of Pepero, and a drink she was curious about. Among Minju’s snacks are a packet of chocolate chip cookies, a peach drink, and an ice cream. 

(It’s the same peach drink I got on the first day, Moka realizes. The same one she bought thinking of Minju, back when she didn’t know a thing about her other than her alluring presence at the grocery store, looking like a goddess holding a worldly peach. Moka tries not to blush.) 

Yunah offers up a banana milk and various bags of chips, wafers, and gummies. With all their snacks laid out, Yunah claps her hands together. “Alright! Let’s start!” 

They go around in a circle, each presenting one snack at a time and rating them on a scale from one to ten. Moka goes first: the bread bun she picked out is good, but not as good as the ones back home. When she tells that to Minju and Yunah, Yunah protests, “That’s not fair! Of course you’re biased to Japanese snacks!” 

“She’s right,” Minju pipes up. “This bread’s missing a certain something to make it amazing.”

In the end, they settle on a seven out of ten. Next, Yunah presents a bag of coffee-flavored chips. “It reminded me of our Moka-chan,” Yunah drawls, and punctuates her words with an exaggerated wink. Both Moka and Minju pretend to gag. 

Although Moka would personally rate the chips an eight, both Minju and Yunah seem to be off-put by the taste. They settle on a six. 

Minju’s first pick is the ice cream she bought. It’s a simple vanilla flavor, one that Yunah makes fun of her for because vanilla is a basic flavor, to which Minju responds, You’re just saying that because you like chocolate more. 

When Minju takes the first bite, placing the wooden stick with scooped ice cream in her mouth, Moka tries not to focus on the shape of her lips as they wrap around the stick. Snap out of it, Sakai Moka. She doesn’t realize Minju’s staring at her until she waves the stick in her face. 

“Huh?” 

“You try it next.” Minju holds out the stick and the cup. 

Minju blinks. “With the same spoon?” 

“There’s no other spoon around, Moka-chan,” Yunah chimes in. 

Right. Moka takes the proffered ice cream and stick hesitantly. She glances around the table: Yunah looks excited, while Minju looks . . . Moka isn't sure how to describe the look on Minju’s face. Before her mind can run amok and make up all sorts of explanations, Moka scoops up a bit of ice cream and places it in her mouth. 

Minju watches her intently. When she removes the stick, Minju leans in and asks eagerly, “Well? How is it?” 

“It’s vanilla, for fuck's sake.”

“Be quiet, Yunah.”

“It’s good,” Moka says after a moment. “It tastes like . . . vanilla.” Yunah erupts into a tirade of complaints about how obvious her answer is, which Moka takes in stride. She wasn’t going to tell them what she was initially going to say, that it tasted a little bit like peach. Glancing at Minju’s lips, Moka wonders if her lip gloss is as sweet. 

“Whatever. Next!” 

Back to Moka’s turn, she holds up her box of Pepero. “Back home, we have Pocky,” she explains, “so I was wondering if this tastes different.” She opens the box and holds it out for Minju and Yunah to take one piece each, then takes one of her own. 

As expected, Yunah and Minju rate it highly. “It’s Pepero,” Yunah says, like it’s obvious. Minju nods in agreement. 

Moka chews thoughtfully. It’s sweeter and thicker than Pocky, but overall very similar. She’s just taken another bite when Yunah asks, “Moka-chan, have you ever heard of the Pepero game?” 

Moka nearly chokes. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Yunah pats her back. Minju hurries to open her peach drink and offers it to Moka, but Moka waves it off with a cough. 

“I’m fine,” she wheezes. “Yes, I’ve heard of it, but we call it the Pocky game back home.” Moka’s face burns.

“Of course.” Yunah nods sagely. “Wanna play?” 

Moka nearly chokes again. This time, she does take Minju’s drink and takes a grateful sip. 

“You can’t just ask questions like that,” Minju reprimands. Yunah shrugs. “Worth a shot.” 

They keep going around until they’ve tried all of their snacks. Some snacks, like the French biscuits Minju picked out for Moka, are controversial, earning low scores from Moka and Yunah and a high score from Minju. Others, like the vegetable-flavored chips from Yunah, earn unanimous low scores. Once they’ve gone through all the snacks, Yunah sorts them in order of their ratings and opens the floor for debate on any placements. 

“The vanilla ice cream should definitely be higher,” Minju argues stubbornly. 

“Above the Pepero? No way,” Yunah says defiantly. 

“Okay, maybe not above, but at least the same level?” 

“How about the one below?” Moka gives Minju an apologetic smile. “Sorry Minju, but it is just vanilla ice cream.” 

“You guys just hate the foundation of the snack hierarchy,” Minju grumbles. “How are Yunah’s multi-flavored gummies higher than it?” 

“Because they add variety, Minju, get with the times.” Yunah claps her hands. “I’m closing the floor for debate! This is our final ranking.” She pulls out her phone and stands to take a couple overhead shots of the display. 

“She’s going to post this on Instagram later,” Minju whispers to Moka. “This is probably the most interesting thing she’s done all day.” Moka giggles. 

“Not my fault all the classes today were duds,” Yunah replies without looking away from her camera. “I needed to do something fun or I was going to die of boredom.” 

Moka and Minju look at each other and look away just as quickly, giggling into their hands. Smiling, Moka feels a pleasant warmth blossom in her chest. When Yunah gets down and invites them to eat the rest of the snacks, Moka happily obliges. 

연애소설 같은 내 story (내 story)

my story that’s like a romance novel (my story)

널 우연하게 만나고 엇갈려도 괜찮아

even if I meet you by chance or pass you by, it’s okay

Sakai Moka, get a grip. Moka’s hands curl into fists atop the desk. She tries, in vain, to pay attention to what the teacher is saying up front, but her mind keeps wandering back to Minju. 

What is she doing now? What class is she in? Where does she sit? Moka feels these questions settle on her heart like a growing physical weight, tightening her chest so that the only thing she can think of is Park Minju. 

Maybe I can go see her. Their tentative friendship is strengthening by the day, ever since their convenience store outing with Yunah. Nowadays, when they pass in the hall or catch each other’s eyes in an assembly, Minju will give her a soft smile. Maybe that’s why Moka’s gone from idle to near-obsessive with her Minju thoughts. 

As the period nears its end, Moka resolves to visit Minju’s homeroom during the break. Maybe give her a drink, and say, I was thinking of you. 

Moka purses her lips. If she wants to pull that off, she has to practice her words so she doesn’t do something embarrassing like stutter. When the bell rings, Moka bids goodbye to the teacher and gets up quickly from her seat. With her wallet in her pocket and resolve in her heart, Moka approaches the vending machine at the end of the hallway. 

Some students are already there, milling around with their friends, so Moka waits off to the side. She picks at her nail polish as she waits, acutely aware of the ticking time she has left in the passing period before the next period begins. 

Finally, the students leave and Moka can step up to the glass. She peruses the selection, but she already knows which one she’ll get: the peach Milkis, a drink she’s beginning to solely associate with Minju. When she presses the button and slides her bill in—pocket money courtesy of her parents—the can rolls out the bottom, making a pleasant clink. It’s cold when Moka bends down to grab it. 

Straightening up, Moka glances at the clock. Fifteen minutes left in the break. Time to get going. 

Luckily, Moka knows the path to Minju’s homeroom. She’d gone there once when Yunah wanted the two of them to go and bother Minju at the end of the school day, and Moka had committed the path to memory. 

She rounds the corner now, cold can in hand. The condensation is dampening her skin. Moka wonders briefly if it’s the right drink to have now that the October chill is setting in, but it’s too late now. Locating the classroom, Moka speeds up. The door opens, so she slows down to prevent running into whoever’s leaving. 

That, Moka realizes, was perhaps not her best course of action. Minju steps out of the classroom, flanked by Wonhee by her side, and they appear to be rushing to get somewhere. Moka can only watch helplessly as the two of them hurry in the opposite direction, shoulder to shoulder. Wonhee’s saying something to Minju, Moka can tell, and neither of them spares a glance in the other direction where Moka stands. 

Oh. Moka drops her arm holding the drink. I just missed you. 

Well. What can she do now except go back to her homeroom? Moka turns slowly, walking at a pace much slower than before, and trudges back down the hall. A drop of condensation falls from the can to the floor. Moka stares at the drink. I can’t just throw it away. 

Popping the tab with a sigh, Moka brings the drink to her lips. It does little to soothe the ache in her chest, and instead draws a chill all over her body. Her skin prickles despite the layers she’s wearing. 

Moka takes her time walking back to class, occasionally taking sips from the peach drink and imagining that it’s the peach drink from the convenience store, the one that had touched Minju’s lips. Thinking back to that time, Moka remembers how sweet the drink had tasted. Now, it just tastes dull. 

When she comes back to her homeroom, Moka enters with downcast eyes. She gets just one foot in the door when an uproar erupts. It startles her enough that her head snaps up, eyes wide and taking a step back. 

“Surprise!” 

Standing in front of her is Yunah, holding a brown cupcake with a lit candle nestled in it. On her left is Minju (?!), and on her right Wonhee, who has her arm looped with a red-faced Iroha. All of them are staring at her with bright eyes and beaming smiles. 

Minju? What are you doing here? Moka thought she’d missed her in her homeroom, and yet here she is, standing in Moka’s homeroom with a curious smile on her lips. 

“Eh?” Just to be sure, Moka glances around in case they’re addressing someone behind her, but finds a classroom of vaguely interested classmates who are mostly keeping to themselves. By and large, it’s just Moka faced with these four girls. 

“It’s your birthday today, isn’t it?” Yunah grins. 

Moka’s mouth drops open softly. “How’d you know?” Sure, she’d woken up today and had a nice birthday breakfast with her family, but Moka didn’t expect to be acknowledged at school, too. Her heart thuds in her chest. 

“Oh, come on, I’m your class president, it’s my job to know these things! Now make a wish.” Yunah shakes the cupcake. “Any day now, my arms are getting tired.” 

“Okay, I’ll make a wish.” Moka trains her eyes on the candle, watching the way it flickers and shimmers atop the candle. She closes her eyes, thinks, and blows out a breath. When she opens her eyes, Moka looks up and meets Minju’s eyes. A faint dusting of red appears on Minju’s cheeks, and Moka feels her own face begin to warm. She looks away first. 

“Well?” Yunah’s eyes are eager. “What’d you wish for?” 

“It’s bad taste to ask, unnie,” Wonhee chides. “If she says it, it won’t come true.” 

“Oh, alright.” Yunah reaches out and grabs Moka’s wrist. She tugs her to an open seat, and the rest of them take up the seats around her as Yunah sets the cupcake down. Minju, especially, stands in the aisle and leans on the seat next to Moka’s. 

“Now try it.” Yunah gestures to the cupcake. “It’s coffee-flavored.” 

“Coffee?” 

“Because you’re Sakai Moka,” Minju supplies. She gives Moka a lopsided smile. “So I suggested getting a mocha-flavored cupcake.” 

Moka nods. Her face is warm, especially with the knowledge that Minju was the one to recommend the flavor. Even if it was obvious from her name, the fact that Minju thought of it at all makes Moka’s heart flip. Get a grip, Sakai Moka. 

She sets her peach drink down on the desk first. Minju’s eyes light up when she notices it, and she points to it. “Is that a peach Milkis? Did you get it because of my recommendation, Moka-chan?” 

“No, Moka-chan just likes that flavor. She got it on the first day, too,” Yunah explains breezily. “Not everything revolves around you, Minju-ssi.” 

“Really?” Minju’s eyes have a sparkle in them when she looks at Moka. “Seems like you and I have pretty similar tastes?” 

“Actually, I—” Moka starts. She gulps. “I got it for you, but you weren’t in your homeroom.” 

“You got it for me?” Minju looks floored, her mouth dropping open slightly as she stares down at Moka in surprise. The blush on her cheeks is back, stronger than before. Then, a smile slowly unfurls on her lips. If Moka were more delusional, she might’ve thought Minju looked giddy. 

“Yeah.” Moka ducks her head and picks up the cupcake for something to do with her hands. She takes a tentative bite. 

“Mm!” 

“Is it good, Moka-chan?” Iroha asks sweetly. Beside her, Minju is still muttering, for me? Moka tries not to focus on her and replies, “Yes. Do you want to try it?”

“No, it’s okay, it’s your birthday.” 

“Can I try, Moka?” Minju asks. 

Moka’s heart stops momentarily. “The cupcake?” She holds it out experimentally to Minju, throat dry. 

“No, the drink.” 

Moka can’t tell if Minju is joking. It almost seems like she is, since that’s the kind of wry response Minju usually gives Yunah, but no. Minju looks dead serious. She points to the can. “Can I have a sip?” 

“Ey, Park Minju,” Yunah scolds. “You can go one day without drinking that peach drink of yours. It’s not even your birthday today!” 

“Yes,” Moka says softly. She clears her throat and says louder, “You can have some, Minju.” 

Pleased, Minju picks up the drink. Moka worries that it’s not still cold for Minju, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Moka watches her raise the can to her lips and tilt her head back. She doesn’t hover it politely and let the liquid flow out, though—Minju’s lips cover the rim of the can as she drinks. 

Moka sees the shape of it as Minju swallows, her throat smoothing out with her gulp. She looks at Moka when she sets the can down. 

“It’s sweet.” Minju smiles. Moka stares back, entranced. 

“Please just kill me now so I don’t have to watch this,” Wonhee bemoans from the side. 

“I know, right.” Yunah’s voice floats in from somewhere next to Moka. 

“You don’t need to cover my eyes, unnie,” Iroha says. 

Moka blinks. Both she and Minju glance towards the other girls, who are looking at them with varying levels of disgust and apprehension. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” Yunah sighs. “Happy birthday, Moka-chan. I hope your wish comes true.” 

“Oh, I think it will.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Lee Wonhee?” 

고백하지 못하는 내 heart

my heart that can’t confess

먼발치서 쳐다보고 마음만 더 커져가

looking at you from afar, my heart just keeps growing

It’s when they’re walking around during lunch one day that Moka turns to Iroha.

“I think I like Minju.” 

“You think?” The younger girl looks at her incredulously. 

Moka frowns. “What’s with that face?” 

“Nothing.” Iroha is still looking at her with a weird expression. “I thought you already thought she was pretty?” 

“Yeah, but that was just it. At first, all I thought was that she was a pretty girl from the grocery store, but now . . .” Moka trails off. She and Iroha both look out into the area that the track surrounds, where Minju, Yunah, Wonhee, and a couple other classmates are playing basketball. 

Like her eyes were specifically wired to find Minju, Moka finds her easily amidst the moving bodies. Minju moves with the same grace she exudes in her day-to-day life, effortlessly ducking under arms and stealing the ball away with the fluidity of water. How can someone look that good playing basketball? 

Moka is quiet as she continues watching Minju. Iroha is too, the two of them silent figures behind the hoop, though she’s sure Iroha has her own reasons for watching so intently. Moka’s eyes stay trained on the lithe and expert movements of Minju’s body that weaves through the players and dashes for the hoop. 

Very quickly, Minju is barrelling towards them. Moka takes an involuntary step back, never taking her eyes off of Minju—when Minju’s eyes meet hers, a rush zips through her body. 

For a split second, Minju falters. The change is so miniscule and Minju recovers so quickly that it’d be imperceptible to anyone not watching her intently. Moka, of course, is not in that crowd. 

Minju crouches, ball poised in her hands, and glances at Moka for the split-second before she shoots. Even when the ball leaves her hands, Moka doesn’t take her eyes off of Minju’s. There’s practically a physical line connecting her gaze to Minju, one that doesn’t break even with Minju in motion. 

“Moka-chan!” 

Moka blinks slowly. Roha? She turns her head. Iroha, for some reason, is not looking at her, but above her. Moka doesn’t have time to react before an impact hits her head hard. 

Ow. What the hell?

An orange ball rolls off into the grass behind Moka. She brings a hand up to her head, which is beginning to throb like mad. Moka blinks again. 

That ball just hit me. Moka feels a little dizzy. Maybe I should sit down? 

She knows her dizziness is bad when she imagines Minju is running up to her with a look of concern. Moka presses once on the crown of her head. A sharp pain zings through her skull. Imaginary Minju stops in front of her. Yep. Definitely imagining things. Is this a concussion? 

“Moka!” Imaginary Minju exclaims. Moka squints. She looks real, though? Imaginary Minju brings a hand up and cradles the side of Moka’s head. “Does it hurt?” 

Huh. Her hand feels real, too. Moka tries speaking. 

“Minju?” 

“Good, you can hear me,” Minju murmurs. “That looked like it hurt a lot. It’s totally my fault, I’m sorry.” 

“What’s your fault?” 

Minju tilts her head. “The ball? I misaimed and ended up hitting you.” 

Moka tries to think. It’s a little hard, with Minju in front of her. “You hit me? How? I’m not standing in the court?” 

Minju, for some reason, laughs at that. “No, silly. I missed the hoop when I threw the ball, so it just soared over and hit you because you were standing behind it.” Minju makes an arc motion with her hand, kind of like the airplane motion that Moka’s mom used to do when she was young and refused to eat her food. 

Moka furrows her eyebrows. “You hit me?” she repeats. 

Minju’s face drops. “I did, and I’m so sorry.” She takes Moka’s arm, and it goes easily with how limp Moka feels. Her eyes dart all over Minju’s face—it’s pretty, like always. The first thing that Moka notices. The second thing she notices is how hard Minju is frowning. That’s going to cause wrinkles, Moka thinks. Don’t frown, Minju. 

“—to you. Hey, Moka.”

Moka watches the way Minju’s mouth moves when she talks. You have very plump and pink lips, Moka thinks appreciatively. 

“Moka-chan.” 

“Huh?” Moka blinks rapidly and meets Minju’s eyes again. They’re wide and big and brown, like how Moka likes them.

“Did you hear me?” 

“Hear what?” 

“Oh dear.” Minju pulls Moka’s arm slightly. “You’re coming with me. We’re going to get you checked out at the nurse’s office for a concussion.” She starts tugging Moka along, and Moka is honestly too confused to resist. She sees Minju look over her shoulder and call out, “Iroha-chan! Sub in for me!” 

In the nurse’s office, the nurse looks at the two of them with mild disapproval. “She seems to be responding normally, Minju-ssi, so I doubt she has a concussion.” 

Moka glances at Minju. She’s worrying a lip between her teeth, which only makes her lips look more plump and pink. “Alright, ma’am.” Minju tips her head in a bow. “I apologize for the disturbance.” 

Moka bows too for good measure. She’d recovered her bearings on the way to the nurse’s office, but Minju still insisted on checking her in, so it’s a little embarrassing to stand in front of the nurse like this. Luckily, the nurse just chuckles and waves them off with a hand. “Just stay safe, you two.” 

Minju glances at Moka. “We will. Come on, Moka-chan.” Then, as smooth as ice, Minju takes Moka’s hand and tugs her out of the office. 

Moka feels her face immediately heat up at their proximity. Not only are they shoulder-to-shoulder, but Minju is holding her hand. Moka tightens her grip so Minju won’t have to hold a limp hand and marvels at how well their hands slot into each other. 

“Sorry again for hitting you. I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.” Minju quirks one corner of her lips up in an apologetic smile. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Moka reassures her. She runs a hand down her hair just to show Minju. “It didn’t even hurt.” 

“Still, I should’ve been more mindful.” As they walk through the hallway, Moka is matching Minju’s pace, and Minju is taking her sweet time. She even swings their intertwined hands between them. Moka didn’t know Minju was the kind of person to swing their arms when they walk. You learn something new every day. 

“Can I make it up to you?” 

“Huh?” Moka’s mind goes blank momentarily. Make it up to me? How? “How?” Moka croaks. 

“Well, I was thinking.” Minju’s thumb rubs, seemingly absentmindedly, against the back of Moka’s hand. “You mentioned, that time when we were at the convenience store, that you wanted to watch Train to Busan but you didn’t get the chance to. So, here’s your chance.” 

Moka tries for an amused smile. It comes out a little awkwardly. “What do you mean?” 

Minju coughs. For some reason, Moka’s hand is beginning to get clammy. She hopes Minju doesn’t notice. “I mean, since you wanted to watch Train to Busan, and I’ve watched it already, then— well. I was wondering if you wanted to watch it with me?” 

The rest of Moka’s body, her legs that are walking and her arms that are swinging, are on autopilot as her mind goes into overdrive. Watch a movie? With Minju? 

“I was thinking it’d be at my house,” Minju continues. At Moka’s stunned silence, she hurries to add, “I’ll provide snacks and blankets and stuff! I’ll make sure you’re totally comfortable, so it’s a good experience for your first time watching, though I guess none of that would matter if you don’t want to come.” Minju stops, taking in a breath. She gives Moka a careful look. “Do you want to come?” 

Does Moka want to come? Is the sky blue? “Yes,” Moka breathes. She’s careful not to let her voice betray her nerves, how she feels like she’ll vibrate out of her skin. “I’ll watch Train to Busan with you, Minju.” 

“Ah, that’s a relief.” Minju smiles. “So, does that mean I’m forgiven?”

Okay. Be normal, Sakai Moka. Moka plasters an easy smile on her face. This doesn’t have to be a big deal. “The jury’s still out on that one. I’ll have to see how I feel after my Train to Busan watching experience.” 

Minju grins. There’s a glint in her eyes. “Then, I’ll work hard to give you the best movie-watching experience ever. Just you wait, Sakai Moka.” 

Moka laughs. “I’ll be ready, Park Minju.” 

소설 같은 첫사랑 책이 다 끝날 듯해

a first love like a romance novel, it seems like the book is almost over

이 책장이 덮여도 기억해 줘

even if this bookshelf is covered, please remember

The first thing that Moka notices in Minju’s house is how clean it is. The entryway is completely clear, devoid of any stray shoes or sandals, and every surface is devoid of items aside from the occasional vase of flowers or picture frame. When Moka toes off her shoes, she eyes the frame curiously. 

It’s a family photo, one where everyone is wearing a white linen shirt and blue jeans—Moka zeros in on Minju, who sits second from the right beside an older boy and between a man and woman. They must be her parents and brother. 

As if manifesting her just by how intently Moka is staring at her picture. Minju comes up behind her. She hovers, her face tilted next to Moka’s. “What are you looking at? Oh, that.”

This close, Moka can smell Minju’s perfume. It’s a nice, peachy scent that surrounds Moka’s senses, filling her airways until she’s almost dizzy with the smell. “You have a nice family,” Moka breathes. 

“Mm.” The sound sends an involuntary shiver down Moka’s body. “Well, I think the movie would be more interesting than this picture. Let’s go.” Minju’s hand reaches out, then pauses in the air, before it drops back to Minju’s side. Glancing up, Moka sees Minju’s beckoning smile. 

Stepping into the slippers Minju offers her—a pair with hamster ears on the front, matching with Minju’s bunny pair—Moka follows her into her house. On the way to Minju’s room, they stop by the kitchen, where Moka greets Minju’s mom with a bow and a Hello, eomeo-nim. 

Minju’s mom coos at her. While Moka blushes at her compliments, Minju disappears behind a door and reappears a moment later. Holding up bags of chocolate candies, popcorn, and gummies, Moka watches Minju take out a large bowl and dump the contents of the bags into the bowl. She’s really serious about this movie experience. As a fellow movie-watcher, Moka can respect that.

“We’re going to be in my room, eomma.” Minju gives her mom a quick side hug and turns to Moka with sparkling eyes. “Let’s go.” 

Like downstairs, Minju’s room is clean and tidy. Her bed is neatly made, her chair is tucked into her desk, and even her schoolbag is hanging prettily from the knob of her closet door. 

More than the contents of the room, Moka notices the scent permeating the air. It’s the same perfume that she’d smelled on Moka, a light peach fragrance, but multiplied tenfold. If having Minju’s face next to hers made Moka notice the scent, standing in Minju’s room made it unavoidable. The whole place smelled like Minju. The thought raises goosebumps along Moka’s skin. 

While Moka stands in the center of the room and tries not to overdose on the smell of peaches, Minju sets the bowl of sweets on the bed and darts around the room. She apologizes for the mess, which confuses Moka because of the sheer lack of mess in the room. Every speck of her square bedroom is pristine, just like her. Along one wall, there’s cloths hanging down from the ceiling and obscuring whatever it is behind it. Minju pulls the center one aside, revealing a flat-screen TV. 

Moka points to the others. “What’s behind those?” More TVs? 

“Huh? Oh.” Moka lifts the corner of one and shows it to Moka. “It’s my bookshelves. Since I’m moving out soon, my mom said to cover them so they don’t collect dust while I’m away.” Her tone is light and casual, but her words give Moka a cold sweat. 

That’s right. Minju is moving away soon. Moka had nearly forgotten that this semester would be their only semester together. They’ve only known each other for three months, and will only know each other for another three, but time is moving too quickly. It feels like they just met—there’s so much more Moka wants to learn about Minju, before they have to part once again. 

“What are you thinking about?” Moka blinks, and Minju appears in front of her with a doting grin. “You looked pretty lost in thought there.” 

“Nothing.” Behind Minju, Moka can see that the TV is already queued up to the movie. Train to Busan runs along the top in bold letters, and a large pause button is frozen in the middle. “Let’s watch.” 

Moka didn’t know that Minju was the kind of person to eat on her bed, but it’s her house and not Moka’s, so she’ll just follow Minju’s lead. Minju settles against her pillows first and pats the space next to her. Moka goes, exclaiming softly when the bed gives way under her weight. 

“It’s so soft,” Moka marvels. Both the bed and Minju’s pillows are easily pliable. It feels like sitting on a cloud. 

Minju blushes. “I like my bed,” she says with a shrug. “It’s comfortable.” 

Settling in against the headboard, Moka is acutely aware of the miniscule space between her body and Minju’s. If she sat just a bit closer, their bodies would be touching in one line from their shins to their shoulders. As it is, Minju’s foot is lightly resting against Moka’s under the covers. 

Minju either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about how close they seem to be. She rests the bowl on both their thighs over the blanket and picks up the remote with her other hand. “Prepare to be awed,” she tells Moka. 

“We’ll see about that,” Moka responds playfully. As the lights dim and the movie begins, Moka trains her eyes forward. Every now and then, she’ll look over at Minju out of the corner of her eye, but Minju seems to be laser-focused on the movie every time she looks. 

Once, Moka reaches into the bowl at the same time as Minju. Their hands brush, and both of them yank their hands back quickly. Moka glances at Minju. In the dark, only the light of the TV illuminates her sharp nose and cheekbones. Still, Moka can see the light in her eyes when they meet hers. 

“Sorry,” Minju whispers. She turns forward again and holds out the bowl to Moka. 

“Thanks,” Moka responds softly. She takes out a gummy and returns her attention to the movie. At least, she tries to, but it really is quite distracting having Minju so close. During the tense parts, all Moka can hear is the sound of Minju’s soft breathing. 

Now, Moka is a seasoned horror movie watcher. She doesn’t jump easily. That being said, she doesn’t usually find herself so close to another girl while she watches, much less Park Minju in all her distracting glory. So when the zombies appear on screen, Moka’s psyche is already in a mixed-up state. 

The character screams. Moka jolts, perhaps more than she’d like to admit, but Minju’s hands are already there. One hand holds the bowl steady, while the other grabs Moka’s shoulder. They stare at each other in the dark. We’re sitting really close, Moka notices for the nth time tonight. She barely hears the screaming over the sound of her own erratic heartbeat in her ears. 

Minju blinks. Moka blinks, too. Then, “Are you scared?” 

“No,” Moka says, but it comes out more like a squeak. 

A sly grin spreads on Minju’s lips. “Aw, don’t be scared, Moka-chan,” she whispers. “If you want to hold hands, just say so.” 

“I’m not scared,” Moka insists. “You can keep your hands to yourself, Park Minju.” 

Minju pouts. She’s unfairly cute. “Mean.” Still, she turns forward again and lets go of Moka’s shoulder, settling back against the pillows. Like before, her foot prods Moka’s under the blanket. Moka gives her a light kick. 

The movie continues. When the train door slides open on-screen, the door to Minju’s room opens at the same time, and Moka really does jump this time. 

“Eomma!” Minju sits up and fumbles with the remote. It takes her a couple tries to successfully pause the movie, during which Moka keeps a steady hand on the bowl. 

“Are you girls having fun?” Minju’s mom grins from the doorway. The light in the hallway wraps around her, giving her smile an eerie glow. Moka plasters a nervous smile on her face. 

“Yes, eomma.” Minju’s fingers pick at the blanket in the ensuing silence.

“Well, I’m just checking in on you. Will your friend be staying for dinner?” 

Minju glances at Moka. “Oh, I couldn’t,” Moka says. She doesn’t want to overstay her welcome on her first day at Minju’s house.

Minju looks like she wants to protest, but her mom cuts her off before she can speak. “That’s a shame. Minju, dear, make sure to keep packing after dinner, okay? Have fun, you two.” With that, Minju’s mom grabs the doorknob and closes the door with a click. 

“Sorry,” Minju says. “She keeps reminding me to pack, since I’m going to be in the city during winter break. Visiting my brother’s new place and all, you know.” 

“I see.” Moka purses her lips. “Are you still coming to the field trip at the beginning of break, then?” 

Minju nods excitedly. “Yeah, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I need to show you all the fun you can have in the countryside, Moka-chan.” 

Moka giggles. Minju unpauses the movie then, but Moka’s attention has already been waning and the rest of the movie flies by while she ruminates in her thoughts. It seems like Minju’s leave is coming sooner than I thought. She can’t help the way the thought worries her. Moka chews her lip. Of course, she knew the end was coming, but it doesn’t make Moka feel any better about it with all the reminders about it. 

When the movie ends, Minju turns to Moka. “So? What’d you think?” 

“Huh?” 

“The movie. What are your thoughts?” Minju grins curiously. Moka blinks and returns her smile with a soft one of her own. 

“It was pretty good.” Minju turns on her lights with the remote control, and the sharp switch to bright light disorients Moka. She blinks against the brightness, and realizes just how close she and Minju were sitting throughout the movie. Moka jumps out of the bed. 

Minju just laughs at her jumpiness and gets up, too. As they stretch, Moka busies herself by giving Minju her review of the movie. She focuses more on her reactions in the first half, since that was where she paid the most attention, but Minju doesn’t seem to mind. 

They take the bowl and make their way to the kitchen. Minju talks about the movie along the way, pointing out her favorite details and sharing her thoughts about the plot. It’s warm, and comfortable, and Moka doesn’t want it to end, but it does anyway. Soon, she’s standing in the entryway again and switching her hamster slippers for her regular penny loafers.

“Thanks for today,” Moka says softly.

“Of course.” Minju’s eyes scan over Moka’s face, darting between her eyes and nose and lips and cheeks before settling on her eyes again. “I hope we can do it again sometime.” 

“Me too.” Moka bows goodbye to Minju’s mother and waves as she steps out into the waning light of the late afternoon. Her dad’s car is idling by the curb in front. When Moka steps up to the door, she turns around one last time. 

Minju is still standing in the doorway of her house, watching Moka. When their eyes meet, she waves again with a bright smile. Moka waves back shyly. It’s only when she gets in the car and they’re separated by the black glass of the car window does Moka let herself relax. 

“Did you have fun, Moka-chan?” Her dad starts up the engine. 

“Yes,” Moka replies quietly. As the car pulls away from the curb, she stares out the window. Even now, Minju still stands on her stoop. Moka stares at her until she physically can’t, until the car rounds the corner and takes Minju out of Moka’s line of sight. She sits back then, letting herself sink into the carseat. 

All the way home, Moka thinks of warm chocolate and soft peaches. 

다 끝나가기 전에 (너에게)

before it all ends (to you)

사라지기 전에 인사를 나눠

before it disappears, I’ll say goodbye

또 기약 없는 고백을 하고

and make another confession without promises

“Moka-chan, have you ever been to the countryside?” Outside, Yunah and Moka huddle together as the sharp December wind whips around them. Even through the parka she wears, Moka shivers. She understands the rationale behind having the students gather at school in the early morning hours of six AM, she really does, but damn if it doesn’t make her miss the warmth of her bed. 

“No, I haven’t.” 

“Then you should totally stick with Minju.” Yunah flashes her a grin. “She knows all the best things to do.” 

Admittedly, the thought of going around with Minju does sound nice. It brings a small warmth to her chest. 

“What about you?” Moka asks. She cranes her neck towards the other lines of students to try and find Minju. With the other two homerooms standing in lines with their black parkas and black duffel bags by their feet, their junior class is looking like a colony of penguins. 

It might seem like it’d be hard to find Minju in the crowd of bodies. But Minju is a lighthouse, and Moka the ship lost at sea—she finds her easily, undoubtedly. Perhaps she was helped by the fact that Minju was already staring at her when she turned her head. 

Minju raises an eyebrow at Moka. Moka giggles softly and turns back to Yunah. Yunah looks unimpressed and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like these kids under her breath. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.” Yunah smiles brightly. “Anyway, obviously I’ll be with you guys. I’m just saying, our Minju is kind of a countryside aficionado.” 

“I see.” As they talk, a horde of buses come rolling up the path to the school. Yunah and Moka watch as the buses line up against the curb. Moka, for one, is particularly interested because she’s never been on a travel bus before. 

The driver of the first bus hops out onto the sidewalk. He pops open the side compartment of the bus and gestures for the waiting students in that area to load their duffels in. Minju’s class is the first to go. Even when tossing a duffel into a bus, Minju looks elegant. 

When she’s done, Minju straightens up and heads over to their line.

“Shouldn’t you be standing with your class?” Yunah asks. 

Minju shrugs. “We’re not getting on yet. Anyway, it’s cold.” She steps up and presses her parka-dressed side against Moka’s. “I’m just trying to get warm.” With Minju this close, Moka leans closer ever so slightly. If anyone notices, she’ll blame the cold. 

“And you came to us for warmth? We’re so honored, Minju-ssi.” Yunah’s voice is teasing. She steps forward so that all three of them form a tight huddle.

“Yeah, yeah.” Minju rolls her eyes and turns to Moka with a smile. “So, are you excited?”  

“Yunah’s been talking about the countryside so much, I think I got half the experience already,” Moka quips. She nudges Yunah, who nudges her back with a hey!

“Aw, don’t let her spoil it for you. Trust me, it’s a whole different experience when you get there. You can’t describe it in words,” Minju affirms. 

“Okay, not too much,” Yunah laughs. “It’s just a retreat.” 

“Yeah, but Moka-chan’s never been on one,” Minju retorts. “I have to make sure it’s a special and memorable experience for her.” 

Moka giggles again, feeling her face warm up despite the chill. When the teacher calls out their class number, Moka whips her head up towards the sound. “Oh, they’re calling us,” she tells Yunah. Moka reaches down for her duffel, but Minju beats her to it. 

“I can take it for you,” Minju offers sweetly. She holds up Moka’s duffel. Moka notices how pink her cheeks are, probably cold and wind-bitten. It really is so cold out here. 

“What about me?” Yunah pouts exaggeratedly at Minju. “If we both leave, then Moka-chan will be all alone in the cold. Since you’re so eager to take the duffel, you should take mine too, so I can keep Moka-chan warm.” She bats her eyelashes at Minju. 

Minju looks at a loss for words. She opens and closes her mouth as she glances between the two before settling on a scowl. “Fine,” she huffs. Minju picks up Yunah’s duffel in her other hand and sets off for the bus. 

“Ah, this is so funny,” Yunah snickers. The two of them watch Minju waddle with the weight of two duffels amidst the crowd of students. “Usually she’ll never lift a finger.” 

“Maybe she just wanted the exercise, so she can warm up,” Moka offers. Yunah eyes her with a look that says, Really? 

By the time Minju is trudging back, her homeroom teacher calls out her class number and beckons all the students from his homeroom to come line up at the bus. The last thing Moka sees is Minju’s betrayed face as she stops in her tracks, just a couple steps away from Yunah and Minju. 

“Aw, that’s too bad.” Yunah loops her arm with Moka’s and gives Minju a jolly wave. “See you at the campsite!” 

Minju glares at Yunah. Before she goes, Moka gives her a small wave, and gets a soft smile in return. Then, it’s their turn to get on the bus. 

“It’s kind of romantic, though,” Yunah comments as they settle into their seats. “This kind of weather, and a camping getaway, is the perfect opportunity for young love to blossom. Don’t you think?” She wiggles her eyebrows at Moka. 

“I guess so,” Moka responds, unsure. She glances out the window, where teachers are running around with clipboards and expressions of extreme duress. “I think it’s a nice break, at least for the students.” 

Yunah sighs and leans back in her seat. “You need to think with a romantic mind, Moka-chan,” she says sagely. “It makes everything more fun.” 

Moka hums. You don’t need to worry about my romanticism, Yunah, Moka thinks. In the pocket of her parka, she runs her fingers over the second button of her school uniform.

Two hours of uneven roads and unending farmland later, their bus finally arrives at the retreat center. Their bus, being among the first to leave the school, have to wait for the other buses to arrive before anything can actually happen. Moka ends up falling asleep against the window again during the wait, which somehow extends into a whole hour due to the other bus getting lost along the way. This, too, must be part of the Korean high school experience. 

Finally, when the other buses come, the teachers move with the urgency of a military platoon and the efficiency of a fork scooping soup. If Moka thought it was cold back at the school, the deep set chill of the countryside’s sunless environment pierces right through her parka, and the parkas of the many other students shivering by the bus. Once a couple more things are sorted out with the bus drivers, the bus compartments finally pop open and the teachers are directing the students in a cacophony of voices: “Move! Move! Grab the bags and bring them inside! Don’t waste time looking for yours, just grab!” 

Moka loses Yunah in the commotion of students surging against the bus compartments, so she focuses on warming herself up by lugging duffel bags from the bus to the central house in the middle of the retreat center. 

When Moka doubles back for the nth time and sees the bus compartments being slammed shut, she turns around and heads into the house. Just as she steps up to the frosty steps, an arm loops through hers. 

“Hey.” Minju smiles, the tip of her nose pink. The rest of her face is flushed, too, likely due to the luggage operation of the last five minutes. “You look cold.” 

“Me?” Moka huffs. Her breath forms a puff in the cold air, visible just in front of her eyes. “It’s almost like it’s 10 degrees out.” 

“Oh, really? I didn’t notice.” Minju grins cheekily and tugs Moka into the house. Moka can’t tell if the warmth in the room is due to any central heating system or due to the sheer amount of bodies within the walls. She pulls them to line up against the wall, where other students are mingling while the teachers coordinate with the retreat leaders. 

“Do you think we’ll room together?” Minju dimples one cheek. “I heard they’re assigned by our homerooms, but I was hoping we could be roommates. I’m curious about Sakai Moka’s great, elaborate skincare routine.” 

Moka laughs. “Who says I have an elaborate skincare routine?” 

“Oh, so all this beauty is natural? You just wake up and look like this?” Minju runs a teasing hand down the side of Moka’s face. 

Moka swats her hand away, trying to pretend she’s not amused and failing horribly. “Says you, the ice queen of our school.” 

“You’ve heard of that?” Minju pouts. “Come on, you don’t actually think that, do you? Don’t I seem so warm and friendly, Moka-chan?” 

She can’t help it—Moka bursts out laughing, much to Minju’s disbelief. “No, it’s not that.” Moka giggles, wiping her eyes. “When we first met, you were kind of awkward, even if you tried to smile at me. I think it’s your face when you’re not smiling. It’s— like a stone statue,” Moka says clumsily. Luckily, she caught herself before she revealed to Minju her true first impression of Minju, involving descriptions of “elegant” and “stone idol”  and other words that Minju didn’t need to know. 

“Aw. Do I still seem like that?” Minju looks so pitiful, pouting and looking at Moka with her large, cute, shiny eyes that makes Moka soften immediately. 

“No.” Moka stares at her nose instead of looking at her eyes. “Don’t fish for compliments, Park Minju.” 

Minju shrugs. “Worth a shot.” At that moment, the teachers call the students’ attention and begin to divide them into their cabins. Like Minju had predicted, the students are staying with their homeroom classes, so Moka waves goodbye to Minju and makes her way to stand with her teacher. 

“So now,” the head teacher says, “you’ll find your bags and start heading over to your cabins. Don’t start walking until everyone in your cabin has their bags, so that no one gets lost!” He barely finishes his sentence before the students descend upon the mounds of duffel bags thrown against the walls. 

Moka approaches one pile and begins to sift around for her bag. She’d had the foresight to tie a cute pink ribbon around the strap of her duffel, so she finds it easily in the sea of black duffels. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Minju walking towards her.

“Hello,” Minju says pleasantly.

“What’re you doing here?” 

“Looking for my bag.” Minju looks at her innocently. “What, I can’t do that now?” 

“You know I didn’t say that.” Moka glances behind her to the other piles of bags. “You couldn’t find yours over there?” 

“I didn’t look,” Minju says simply. “I figured mine might be near yours.”

“How does that make sense?” 

“Because—” Minju bends down and snatches up a bag with a triumphant smirk, “—we’re fated.” Sure enough, next to the spot where Moka’s bag was is the now-vacant indent of Minju’s bag. 

Moka quickly hides the surprise that colors her face. How does this keep happening? Instead of responding to Minju’s cheeky comment, she says, “Geez, what do you have in there?” Dangling in her hands, Minju’s duffel looks like it might burst at the seams. 

“My super great, elaborate skincare routine.” Minju winks.  

Moka gasps conspiratorially. “Don’t tell me the ice queen isn’t a natural beauty?” 

Minju wiggles her eyebrows at her. “Come to my cabin tonight and find out.”

“Minju!” Moka hits her shoulder, looking around even as she laughs incredulously. “You can’t just say that!” Scooping up her duffel, she gives Minju a mock-stern look. “I’m going now. Don’t follow me!” She turns quickly before Minju can say anything else that’ll make Moka redder than she already is. 

When Moka joins her class, Yunah is there helping the teacher take a headcount. She smiles warmly when she sees Moka approach. Once their group starts moving, it’s a quick walk to the cabins, which are admittedly less nice-looking than Moka thought they’d be. She doesn’t know how nice she expected cabins in a retreat center in the middle of the countryside would look, but the thinly insulated wooden box staring at her is not it. 

“So this is home for the next two days, huh?” Ducking her head to enter the cabin, Yunah gives one of the bunkbeds an experimental knock. She gives Moka a wry smile. “Let’s be bunkmates, Moka-chan.” 

“Sure.” Moka drops her duffel bag unceremoniously on the bottom bed and leans against the ladder. Her stomach chooses that moment to make the loudest grumble she’s ever heard from it. Embarrassingly, a couple of her classmates glance over in surprise, but it’s Yunah that bursts out laughing. 

“Was that you?”

“Shut up,” Moka grumbles. “You don’t need to laugh so hard.” 

“No, no, I’m hungry, too.” Yunah sighs. “But ssaem said we’re just going to rest at the cabin for a couple hours, and then have lunch. Can you believe they don’t have any of the retreat events ready yet?”

So rest they do. Moka takes out her essentials, including her pillow and blanket, and orders Yunah to wake her up when it’s time for lunch. 

At lunch, their cabin is among the last to come out. As they wait in line, Yunah makes commentary about the nature around them, but Moka is only half-listening. She pretends to take in the surroundings, but secretly searches among the thong of students for Minju. When she spots her, Minju is sitting at a picnic table surrounded by her homeroom classmates at the other end of the eating area. And, by some twist of bad luck, Moka and Yunah’s table is the farthest possible table from it. 

“Too bad Minju’s not with us, huh? Guess it’s just you and me again.” Yunah sets down her plate and nudges Moka lightly with her shoulder. 

“Not everything is about Minju,” Moka quips, despite her own attempts to look over at Minju’s table. She may have come to terms with her crush on Minju (!), but that doesn’t mean she’ll just brush off her other friends (read: Yunah). 

“Aw, don’t tell me you guys are back in your awkward stage. I worked so hard to bring you two together.” Yunah spears a sausage and pops it in her mouth, chewing noisily. 

“Thank you for your service,” Moka responds mockingly. 

“Yeah, well, you guys didn’t make it easy. You’re literally the same age, and both friends with me, and yet you couldn’t look at each other for more than two seconds.” Yunah snorts. “It was like trying to set up a blind date, I swear.” 

Moka laughs, a little pitchy. “It can’t have been that bad.” 

Now Yunah smirks at her. “You’re right. At least Minju was helping me out on that front. She wanted to be friends with you so bad, it was making my head hurt. I had to force you two to be in the same vicinity for my own well-being.” 

“Aw, your well-being hinges on your two dear friends’ friendship?” Moka places a hand over her heart. “That’s so touching, class president.”

“Not what I said.” Yunah slurps her instant noodles obnoxiously. “Anyway, enough about Minju. How good are you at field games?” 

Moka grins. “I’m killer at them.” 

“Awesome!” Yunah gives her an enthusiastic thumbs up. “Based on the itinerary ssaem gave me, tomorrow is one big field day.”

“What about today?” 

“Class bonding.” Yunah gestures around the table to their classmates. “Even though the whole lot of us have been in the same class this year, we still need to work on our synergy, I guess.” Yunah grins then, a glint in her eyes. “It’s so we can crush the other classes tomorrow.” 

“We’re playing against the other classes?” Unbidden, Moka’s gaze drifts over to Minju again. She’s wearing a small smile at something her tablemates are saying. Moka wonders what it is, whether it’s funny or just a polite smile for them. 

“Nah, that’s just my guess.” 

After lunch, they take to the field and each class forms their own circle, surrounding their respective teachers and chaperones. Here, Moka finds out all sorts of things about her classmates as they go around the circle and talk about themselves. Then, they play a question game with a beach ball covered in prompts, in which every student answers one and throws the ball to a person across the circle. The afternoon flies by like this. Admittedly, it is fun and she comes out feeling closer to all of her homeroom classmates. 

(They even do a trust fall for each student—like a good class president, Yunah stands behind every one of her classmates and catches them. In return, Moka and every one of her classmates rally behind Yunah when she does her own trust fall.)

“Alright, listen up!” One of the retreat leader’s voices booms over the field, courtesy of the megaphone in her hand. “Now that you’ve gotten comfortable with your respective classes, we’re going to split you guys into teams! But if you think you’re going to be in teams according to class, you’re wrong! Throw that whole idea out the window!” 

Yunah leans over to whisper, “What kind of system is this?” Moka giggles. 

“Instead,” the leader continues, “we’re going to number you guys from one to six! On the edges of the field are the different camps with leaders and signs. Wave, leaders!” She sweeps her arms forward towards the outskirts of the field, and Moka can see excited-looking teachers sporting high signs labeled one through six, as well as a flag rooted in the ground next to them. 

“Those are your camps for this game! We’re going to do a scavenger hunt, and the order of the winning teams determines who gets first access to dinner. But there are rules! Silence, silence!” The leader holds up a finger when a growing murmur amongst the students begins to drown out her voice. Once the students have quieted, she continues yelling into the megaphone. 

“Each team will be given a list of items to find! Every time you find an item, you must deposit it at your camp! No carrying until the end!” She drops her voice and grins devilishly. “Although, some of these items will make you think twice about holding on to it until the end.” 

“None of the lists are the same, but they have many overlapping items! Because of that, you can try your hand at challenging the leader guarding a different camp in return for one of the items! The challenge is entirely up to the leader—you might play rock-paper-scissors, or wrestle to the death.” A pause. “I’m kidding, of course.” 

“Since the sun’s setting soon, you’ll need to move fast! Like I said, you’ll line up for dinner according to how quickly you complete the scavenger hunt! But, there’s no time limit, so if you don’t find your items in time, you could end up searching in the dark! Do you want to search in the dark while you’re hungry, players?” 

A collective booing rises from the students. 

“That’s what I thought! Alright, that’s it for the rules! If you’re confused about anything, you can ask a neighbor or your leader.” The leader clears her throat and then roars with all her might, louder than all of her previous yelling, “Players! Are! You! READY?”

Moka can barely hear the sound of her own voice over the screaming of the students around her. She sits, a little impatiently, as teachers go up and down the aisles, counting off the students from one to six. 

“This is the last time we’ll be on the same team, Moka-chan.” Beside her, Yunah smirks at her with a glint in her eyes. “Prepare to be beaten.” 

“We’ll see about that,” Moka grins. Once the teachers dismiss them, Moka scrambles to her feet and runs to the sign with the number five printed on it. Just as she runs up, she sees—

“Moka-chan!” Minju arrives at the camp at the same time as Moka. “We’re on the same team!” 

“Yay!” The two of them join the other approaching students that are forming a loose circle around their leader. It’s their math teacher, an inexpressive man that’s notorious for his dry manner of speaking. He says questionable things with a straight face, so Moka can never tell if he’s joking. 

“Ssaem, what’s your challenge going to be?” 

He pushes his glasses up his nose bridge. “I’m going to think of a number, and the challenger must get within five values of it,” he says simply.

A beat of silence. Then, “Aw, ssaem! That’s so lame!”

“Yeah, can’t you think of a better one?” 

“Nonsense,” he says gravely. “I am unskilled in the realm of simple games. Besides, there are infinite numbers in existence. The pool of possibilities is endless. In addition, I am including all real numbers, not just integers.” 

“What’s the difference?” Minju whispers. Moka shrugs. 

“Here is your list of items.” Their math teacher holds out the paper with a flourish. “Even though you’ll most likely split up, I recommend sticking together in small groups for one of these. I’ll be holding onto the paper, so make sure to memorize which items you’re looking for before you leave. And communicate with each other—you don’t want to waste time looking for the same items.” 

“A teacher’s coffee mug?” Moka reads aloud. “How are we supposed to get that?”

He just shrugs, expressionless. “All areas of the retreat center are fair game, including the lounge. Now hurry along, children. You don’t want to be searching in the dark while hungry, remember?” 

“Yes, sir!” The students crow. They quickly split up like their teacher said, and Moka tugs Minju’s arm in the direction of the common buildings. With the smaller items in mind, like a pen or a leaf turning from green to red, Moka and Minju make quick work of scoping out the surrounding area and running back with the items. 

They’ve figured out a system, which is using their newly acquired pen to write their names next to the items they’re looking for so they don’t overlap. Thirty minutes into the scavenger hunt, most of the easier items have been found. 

“Now for the hard part.” Moka picks up the pen and hovers it over the paper. “Do you want to try getting the chair from the retreat leader’s office?” 

“Too late. Look.” Minju points across the field to where two students are lugging the wooden chair to their camp. Even from here, Moka can tell it’s an expensive and unique chair, studded with shiny knobs and new-looking cushions. “They already got it.” 

“Well, we still need it to win. Let’s go.” Moka sets off in the direction of the camp and is pleased when Minju follows her quickly, falling into step next to her. The two of them march up to Team One’s camp, where a small line is quickly forming. One of the students dropping off newly-found items stops in her tracks. 

“Hey!” Yunah barks. “What are you two doing here?” 

“Scouting your chair,” Moka fires back. “Wanna hand it over?” 

“No way.” Yunah laughs and claps her hand on the shoulder of her team leader, a sly-looking college student who grins at Moka and Minju. “Don’t go easy on them, captain. It’s my personal request.”

“Will do.” When Moka and Minju step up to her, she rubs her hands together. “Are you two ready to play?” 

“You’re on!” 

“Awesome! Here’s the deal. We’re gonna play rock-paper-scissors, and you have to do an action every time we shoot. If you win, say ‘I win.’ If you lose, say ‘I lose.’ But if we tie, you have to . . . hm.” She taps her chin as she stares between Moka and Minju. “I know. If we tie, you have to blow a kiss to your partner.” 

Huh? Moka barely hears the next instructions over the rush of blood in her ears. 

“But right away, or it doesn’t count and you lose for real. If you can get five in a row between the two of you, then I’ll give you an item of your choice. But you have to get all five in a row on your first try.” The leader grins wolfishly. “No one’s ever won against me.” 

“Yet!” Minju chirps. Her face is pink, probably from excitement or exertion. “We’ll be the first.” She holds up a fist to Moka, who blinks a moment before bumps it with her own fist. 

“We’ll see about that. Alright, who’s first? Remember, you need five in a row to win.”  

Focus, Sakai Moka. Remember, dinner’s on the line. Moka glances at Minju, who looks back with a stony face. 

“Whoever goes first is also the one who makes the winning shot,” Minju murmurs lowly. “Are you prepared for the pressure?” 

Moka flushes. “Of course I am,” she mutters back. Moka looks back up. 

“I’ll go.” She holds up her fist with a determined look. 

“Excellent.” The leader holds up her own fist. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” She morphs her fist into scissors just as Moka throws out a paper. 

She beat me. “I lose!” Moka turns and nods firmly to Minju. You’re up, she tries to convey through her eyes. Don’t lose focus. 

Minju nods back. Facing off against the leader, she holds out a ready fist as the leader chants, “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” 

Scissors versus scissors. Stalemate. 

Quick as a bird, Minju turns to Moka and blows an exaggerated kiss. It’s so unexpected, Moka almost doesn’t realize the leader is looking at her now. She hurries to hold up her fist when the leader starts. 

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” Just as the leader splays her fingers into a paper, Moka makes the split-second decision to hold out paper, too. 

“A little slow?” the leader taunts. Moka ignores her. 

 Another stalemate. Which means . . . 

Moka turns and delivers a swift kiss in the air in Minju’s direction. She channels her entire focus into their three hands, so she avoids the look on Minju's face. 

“You two are quick,” the leader appraises. “But will you last?” To Minju’s dazed look, she chants, “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” 

Moka holds her breath. When the leader thrusts out a scissor, Minju raises her own fist slowly. 

The leader raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Is that a roc—”

“I win,” Minju cuts in. The leader glances between the two of them suspiciously. “Alright,” she says slowly. “Better keep your heads up, kiddies.” 

Moka scowls. “Just shoot.” She shakes out her hand and reforms her fist. 

“Okay, okay. In case you didn’t notice, this is your fifth round, so all the pressure’s on.”

“Just ignore her,” Minju whispers. “You got this, Moka-chan.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Moka keeps her eyes on the leader, trying to psych her out by staring right at her eyes. The leader just stares back, smirking.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” 

As soon as she says shoot!, Moka glances down. Her hand is showing rock, and the leader’s hand— rock as well. 

Heart jackrabbiting in her ribcage, Moka turns and blows a big kiss to Minju. She yelps, surprised, when Minju starts jumping and whooping, crowding her into a hug. Moka’s arms land around Minju’s waist as they jump in a circle, and only one thought runs through her mind. 

We won. 

“We won!” Minju shouts in her ear. Moka throws her head back and laughs loudly. 

“We did it!” Moka cheers. “We won!” 

“Alright, enough,” the leader cuts in sourly. “Just take it. I don’t care anymore.” 

Still giggling, Moka feels the excitement and happiness bubble up in her chest as she stares at Minju. She’s smiling so wide, her cheeks hurt. 

“Come on, let’s go.” Minju lets go of Moka and takes one arm and one leg of the chair. “Man, this thing is heavy.” 

Lifting up both sides of the adorned chair, Moka and Minju manage to carry it across the field to their own camp. By the time they return, their other teammates are already standing there, and at first, Moka wonders why they’re not running to get more items. But then, it hits her— 

“Team five!” Their math teacher roars. He raises their sign and pumps it with vigor Moka has only seen once before, when he explained Euler’s identity to them (as opposed to Euler’s number, or Euler’s method, or Euler’s formula—their teacher really loves Euler, so Moka just humors him in class). 

Moka huddles with Minju and her teammates as the retreat leader jogs over to inspect their goods. In the distance, Moka can see the other teams are watching curiously, some with sour expressions and others with disbelief. 

There’s a long silence spent looking between their list and the items dropped haphazardly by their flag. On the grass is everything from a rubber band to a retreat T-shirt to a tire (where did that come from?) to the bedazzled chair brought over by Moka and Minju. Then, the retreat leader straightens up and picks up the whistle on her chest, blowing hard. 

“Team five gets first pick for dinner!” Her voice is lost in the students’ whooping, screaming and cheering so loud that a bird flies out of a nearby tree. In the waning light of the sunset, Minju looks at Moka. Her face glows with pride. 

Minju says something, but Moka doesn’t catch what it is. “Huh?” She leans forward, and Minju brings her lips to Moka’s ear. She feels heat flush all over her body from Minju’s proximity. 

“We did it.” Minju’s voice is sweet, her peach scent intoxicating as her breath tickles the shell of Moka’s ear. “Good job, Moka-chan.” 

Moka can barely look Minju in the eyes, so she goes on her toes and brings her own lips to Minju’s ear. “You too, Minju-yah. You did well.”

The smile they share, surrounded by their screaming classmates, is intimate and private, contained only in the small bubble between Moka and Minju. 

(Later, at dinner, Minju turns to their leader with a curious look. “Hey, ssaem, how come none of our items got stolen? Were the kids that bad at guessing the numbers you picked?” 

Team five waits with bated breath as he picks up a piece of kimbap with his chopsticks. Observing it at different angles, he responds before placing it in his mouth. “I never decided a number before they guessed. Once I heard their number, I picked another number accordingly.” 

The table erupts into cheers. 

“Wow, our teacher is so cool!”

“I didn’t know he had this cunning side to him!” 

“Everyone say thank you to Lee ssaem!”)

After the exhilarating scavenger hunt win from afternoon and then spending dinner pressed up against Minju (the only times they separated were when Minju got up to refill their plates, since she insisted on Moka staying put), Moka feels light and airy and that much shyer around Minju. She’s always known she was pretty, and she even acknowledged her own feelings for Minju a while ago, but it still gives her a rush being near Minju. After blowing kisses to one another in their quest for the office chair, Moka’s heart fluttered and never quite settled down afterwards.

After dinner, they round up the students for a bonfire. “Come on, you two.” Minju grabs Moka and Yunah’s hands and tugs them both to a gap near one of their firepits. “Your hands are freezing. You need to warm up.” 

Moka realizes then that it is cold, much colder than it was at dinner now that the sun has fully disappeared below the horizon line, though the points where their two hands are clasped feel like a prickling fire under Moka’s skin. When she steps closer to the rising flame, the warmth spreads all over her body. 

“Have they started making s’mores yet?” Yunah asks. 

“Yeah, just about. Here, Moka, let me make you one.” Moka watches in fascination as Minju picks up a standing skewer and spears a large, fluffy white marshmallow from a nearby bag. Yunah grabs her own skewer, too, and the three of them huddle together as the two sticks turn their respective marshmallows over and over. 

“Have you ever had s’mores, Moka-chan?” Minju asks sweetly. When Moka shakes her head, one of Minju’s dimples appears. “You’re in for a treat.” 

“Hey, me neither,” Yunah complains. 

Minju snorts. “Yeah, clearly. You’re burning yours.”

Yunah yelps as a flame catches on her marshmallow. She waves her stick, perhaps a bit dangerously, to put out the fire, and Moka ends up huddling close to Minju to avoid getting hit. 

Minju just shakes her head sagely. “S’mores newbies, am I right? Watch this, Moka-chan.” From an assortment of crackers and chocolates, Minju sandwiches her marshmallow between the ingredients and gingerly slides out her skewer. She holds up her creation proudly. 

Moka has to admit, the golden crisp of the marshmallow and the melting chocolate slowly fusing with the marshmallow makes her mouth water. She accepts the s’more with a small thanks and brings the treat up to her mouth. 

“Wait!” Minju lays a hand on her arm and stops Moka, who glances at her in confusion. “It’s hot.” Still holding Moka’s arm, Minju blows on the s’more. Once she’s satisfied, Minju gives her a wide grin. “Now try it.” 

“Mm!” Moka looks at Minju with wide eyes. She tries to speak, but the stickiness of the marshmallow seals her mouth shut. Moka sticks her tongue out and licks her lips clean, swallowing down her bite. “It kind of tastes like salt bread!” 

Minju tilts her head in confusion. 

“It’s because it’s crispy because of the cracker, but also sweet because of the marshmallow and chocolate, and airy on the inside because of the marshmallow.” Moka gives her a bright smile. “Like salt bread.” 

“Coming from the salt bread enthusiast herself?” Minju puts a hand over her chest. “I’m honored. This is such high praise.”

“Part of it is the expert chef,” Moka giggles. She holds out the s’more. “Here, have some. Let’s share.” 

Minju’s face pinkens then—Moka wonders if it’s because of the cold chill of the rapidly approaching night, or because of the heat radiating from the voluminous campfire. Finally, Minju mumbles a sure and takes the s’more. 

Next, Moka tries her hand at making s’mores. She’s not half-bad, but it doesn’t taste as good as when Minju makes them. She makes the mistake of telling Minju this—the girl puffs up her chest proudly when she hears it. 

“Wow, tonight is just my night! I keep getting compliments from the Sakai Moka!” 

Moka rolls her eyes, face warming, and is glad when Yunah interjects with her own s’mores. 

“Here, try mine, Moka-chan!” Yunah holds hers out with a wide grin. They’re a little burnt around the edges, Moka notices, and the color isn’t as vibrant as Minju’s. The chocolate is also not as melted as Moka’s come to like, but she takes a bite anyway. 

“Well?” Yunah asks eagerly. Minju pretends to glance in another direction, but Moka can tell she’s waiting to hear Moka’s response, too. 

Moka purses her lips. There’s a bit of cracker stuck in between her teeth. “No comment.”

“She likes mine more,” Moka declares just as Yunah whoops, “I won!” The two of them begin squabbling over the advantages and disadvantages of their respective s’more-making methods—Moka takes her chance to just stand by and eat the s’mores that come her way. 

The prickle under her skin is back now. She doesn’t think she’s imagining it every time Minju looks at her and smiles widely, wider than she does with anyone else, and Moka wonders if Minju feels it, too. Probably not. Still, Moka will take this: standing next to Minju, eating the s’mores she offers her, playing games with her that involve blowing kisses and watching horror movies and going to the convenience store for endless snacks with her. It’s comfortable, and Moka will take what she can get before their part ways sooner rather than later. 

(The reminder of how short their time together is bitter but necessary. Moka can’t get too attached, she can’t, not when she knows Minju doesn’t feel nearly as much as she does. At least, her feelings aren’t the same as Moka’s feelings, Moka’s sure of it. Moka will just give her the second button of her school uniform, and that will be enough. As long as Minju accepts the button, that will be enough.) 

By the time the night is winding down, Moka’s mouth is stained with chocolate and her veins are full of sugar. “I could pass out right now,” she mumbles. 

“Huh? Let me take you back to your cabin!” Minju drops her skewer and grabs both of Moka’s arms. 

Yunah swats her hands away and says, “Oh no you don’t! I’ll take her, since we’re bunking together. As the class president, I have a responsibility to look after my constituents!” 

Minju’s arms drop limply. “You guys are bunking together?” 

Moka lets Yunah turn the two of them around and begin marching. “Good night,” Yunah tosses over her shoulder. “Don’t even think of sneaking to other cabins, Park Minju! Be an upstanding citizen!” 

Moka glances over her shoulder. “Good night, Minju,” she says softly. She gives Minju a small wave, one that Minju returns with a sweet smile. 

“Good night, Moka-chan.” 

“Hey! Where’s my good night?” 

When their chaperone wakes them up the next morning, Moka has barely gotten a wink of sleep. Strange, considering how much she loves sleeping, but she can’t help turning the events of yesterday over in her head. Sure, she’d gotten mellow and in her thoughts last night, but that was because of the bonfire. Now, stepping out into the morning sun and finding Park Minju standing on the steps of their cabin makes Moka’s stomach flip all over again. 

It doesn’t go away when Minju calls dibs on her and grips her waist for their three-legged race, or when their fingertips brush during the relay race, or when they’re playing tug-of-war and their team is pulling so hard, Moka is almost horizontal against Minju, back to her front. 

After lunch, when Minju had offered to switch plates with her and refilled her juice and just acted so nice, in her signature Minju way, Moka is glad for the ninety minute break they’re given in their cabins. Yunah wanted to rope Moka into exploring the forest with her and a couple others, but Moka cites some tiredness and retreats back to her bed. 

Now, with a full stomach and exhausted limbs from playing games all morning, Moka is able to drift off and make up for the sleep she’d lost last night thinking about Park Minju. Minju, with her bright smile and peach scent and corny, awkward attempts at flirty jokes, is the last thing Moka thinks of when her eyes flutter shut. 

Minju, it seems, is also the first thing Moka sees when she wakes up. She thinks she must be dreaming, imagining Minju’s face three centimeters away from hers (don’t be a creep, Sakai Moka), but then Minju speaks. 

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” 

“Huh?” Moka scrambles backward, sitting up quickly, and Minju straightens up to avoid colliding into her, which only makes her head knock into the frame of the top bunk. 

“Ow!” 

“Are you okay?” Moka’s initial surprise melts away quickly. She grabs Minju’s head between her hands and turns it this way and that, rubbing a palm against the crown of her head. “That looked like it hurt a lot. Sorry.” 

“No, it’s my fault for sticking my head in your space.” Minju grins good-naturedly, and the slightly-mussed hair look is so charming it steals Moka’s breath away. She doesn’t know how much more of this she can take. 

“What are you doing here?” Moka glances around—the cabin is mostly empty, and the sun is beginning to set outside. 

Minju’s smile is teasing. “I came to wake you up, silly. We’re doing group reflections before dinner, but they couldn’t find you. I went to go look, and it turns out you slept through your alarm.” She holds up Moka’s phone. 

“Ah, I must’ve been really tired,” Moka murmurs. “Thanks for coming. You can go join your group now, sorry to make you late.” 

“Nonsense.” Minju makes no motion to leave. “I want to walk with you.” 

Moka’s face flushes, but she pretends it didn’t. “Okay, then give me a moment to clean up a little. I’ll meet you outside?” 

“Okay.” Minju flashes her another smile and bounds to the doorway. She waves exaggeratedly before stepping out, the door closing behind her with a click. 

Truthfully, Moka partly lied. It’s true, she did want to get out of the clothes she’d been wearing since the morning, but there was another reason she wanted Minju to step out. Once Moka tidies her shirt and brushes her hair lightly, she reaches into the pocket of her discarded parka and retrieves the button. 

Since tonight’s the last night, Moka thinks, I’ll give this to her. 

Sitting at the picnic table between a couple of her classmates, Moka feels content. There’s laughter, cheering, loud voices that could only belong to a bunch of high schoolers high on life and happiness and given the tongs to their own grills. Their energy is infectious; Moka sings along when they break out into song, and chants along at all of their silly antics.

And through it all, Minju is by her side. Yunah had split off some time ago when she got roped (read: goaded everyone in their class) into games, but Minju had stayed steadfast by Moka. She’d asked her, at the beginning of the night, if she wasn’t going to join the others, but Minju had simply replied, “I wanna be with you.” 

(And damn, if that didn’t make Moka’s heart flutter. Just when she thought she’d finally gotten over her awkwardness with Minju, when she thought she could be chill around her on this school trip, Minju goes and says things and does things that tilts Moka’s whole world on its axis. How could she not fall for her?)

As the self-proclaimed barbecue masters grill packets upon packets of pork belly, Minju routinely takes pieces and places them on Moka’s plate. And somehow, they’re always the most perfectly cooked, grilled to perfection all wrapped in a piece of lettuce. 

Moka places a wrap in her mouth and makes a sound of surprise. She turns to Minju, cheeks full, and chews quickly before swallowing and saying, “How is this so good?” 

Minju laughs at Moka’s reaction. “I pick only the best ones off the grill,” Minju says smugly, and winks. Moka feels warmth spread all over her body, and not just from the heat of over-excited bodies and grills around them. 

“Here, you should eat some, too,” Moka says when the growing pile of pork belly on her plate starts looking a little too tall. “They’ll get cold if I’m the only one eating them.” She picks up her chopsticks and begins to transfer some pieces to Minju’s plate, but stops. Chopsticks holding a piece of pork belly hovering in the air, Moka stares at Minju. 

Minju, for some reason, is staring back at her with an open mouth. Moka can see all her teeth like this. After a moment, Minju says, “Ah.” 

Moka flusters. “You want me to feed you?” 

“That’d be nice, yeah.” Minju opens her mouth wide again. “Ah.” 

What is Moka supposed to do except put her chopsticks in Minju’s waiting mouth? Moka watches the way Minju’s lips close around the piece of grilled meat, tugging slowly on her chopsticks until they come off with a pop. 

Minju chews, holding Moka’s slack-jawed stare with a playful look of her own. “Mm, it’s good.” Minju licks her lips. “Compliments to the chef.” 

Clearing her throat, Moka looks back at her plate. “You’re weird,” she mutters. Minju’s chuckle is warm in her ears. 

The night shows no sign of winding down when Moka sets down her chopsticks. “I’m tapping out,” she tells Minju. 

Minju hums. “Wanna go for a walk?” she suggests quietly. 

“Please.” 

The two of them get up and excuse themselves from the table. Under the dim firefly lights, Moka and Minju manage to slip away unnoticed. Minju leads them onto a secluded path, near but not too near the campsite. Moka keeps her hands in her parka, and Minju does the same. For a moment, the only sounds that can be heard are their soft footsteps and the brushing of their sleeves against one another. 

“This has been really fun,” Moka says quietly. 

Minju nods. “I’m glad. I didn’t want you to have a bad camping experience in Korea.” 

Moka feels the button in her pocket and prays for strength and courage. “Actually, I—” 

Minju turns to her, eyes attentive. “Hm? You what?” 

Even though her hands shake, Moka braves forward anyway. “I had a good time thanks to you,” she admits truthfully. “You took care of me a lot, and for that I’m really grateful.” 

A small smile blooms on Minju’s face. “Aw, Moka-chan. I should be the grateful one, since I got to spend it with you.” 

The path ahead of them opens to a small clearing. In the distance, Moka can still hear the cheers and whoops of their junior class. Still, it’s peripheral to the silence of the forest, which envelopes them. On one side of the dirt path is a bench. Minju motions for them to sit down. 

“Look up,” Minju says quietly. She points, directing Moka’s gaze to the sky. “You can see the stars from here.”

And how brightly they shine above them. Moka is at a loss for words at their intensity, how it seems like every individual star is reaching a silvery hand towards them. 

“They’re so bright,” Moka murmurs.

Minju hums in agreement. “You can’t see them this clearly in the city. That’s why I like visiting the countryside. It strips away a lot of the noise of bustling cities.” 

“It’s beautiful.”

A pause. Then, “Yeah. It is beautiful.” 

Once she’s gotten her fill of stargazing, Moka looks at Minju and finds her already staring back. 

“Hi,” Moka breathes. 

“Hi,” Minju responds just as quietly. 

“I— I have something for you.” 

Minju’s face lights up in surprise. Moka turns over the button in her pocket. Then, Minju says, “Me too.” 

“Huh?” 

“For you. I have something for you, too.” Minju looks almost shy in the moonlight. “You go first, though.” 

With the knowledge that Minju has something waiting for her, Moka froze. Now, she blinks rapidly. “Okay. Don’t get your hopes up too high.” She laughs, a little high-pitched. “It’s this.”

Moka removes her hand from her pocket and holds it out, hand facing up with the button resting on her palm. Minju’s eyes widen slightly. “It’s from my school uniform. The one I wore at my high school in Japan. Since, um, you’re leaving soon, I wanted to give it to you. It’s just something that high schoolers in Japan do as a parting gift, where they give each other the second button of their uniforms,” Moka rambles. A half-truth, but she doesn’t want to fully admit that she’s confessing to Minju in a way. Having her heart broken on the last day of camp, sitting under the stars, would not be a pleasant experience. “It’s just something to remember me by,” Moka tacks on clumsily. 

Minju doesn’t say anything for a long time. She just stares at the button in Moka’s hand, unmoving. Moka’s beginning to sweat despite the cold. 

“Unless you don’t want it?” Moka’s fingers begin to close around the button. “Sorry, is this weir—” 

“I’ll take it!” Minju blurts out. “Yes. I want it. Your button.” She takes Moka’s hand in both of hers and pries it open, plucking the button out like a pearl from an oyster. She looks up at Moka, cheeks dusted with red. “Thank you. Seriously. I’ll keep it safe.” 

“Okay,” Moka says, a little embarrassed. In retrospect, she realizes how odd it must look for Minju. It’s just a button; Korea doesn't have the same cultural nuance surrounding the second button of one’s school uniform the way Japan does, or at least Moka doesn’t think so. 

After a beat, Minju seems to remember her own gift. She tucks the button carefully into the pocket of her parka and reaches into her other pocket. 

“Don’t be weirded out or anything,” Minju warns. She sounds nervous, Moka thinks. 

“I just gave you a button. I think I’m already beyond the realm of weird,” Moka reassures her. She bites her lip. What could it be? 

“Okay, then, in that case.” Minju pulls out her hand and presents a small envelope. “It’s a letter I wrote for you. But— don’t read it yet,” Minju says quickly. “Read it tomorrow morning. When you’re at home. I don’t want to ruin your camping experience with the contents of it, so promise me not to open it until then.” 

Moka laughs, more so out of confusion than humor. “Alright,” she agrees. But as she takes the letter, her mind races. What could it be? 

Placing the letter in her parka, Moka is careful not to let it crease. “Ah, I feel bad,” she pouts. “You wrote me a whole letter, and all I gave you was a button.” 

“Don’t say that,” Minju says with a laugh. “I thought it was really sweet. Why the second button, anyway?” 

It’s the closest one to the heart. “Oh, you know. Since you give it to another person, it symbolizes the two of you, you know? You’re the first button, and they’re the second one,” Moka lies. 

Minju nods slowly, making a sound of appreciation. “That’s really touching,” she says. “My heart just fluttered.” 

Blood rushes to Moka’s face. “Don’t joke about that,” Moka groans. “I already feel awkward.” 

“Well, don’t, Moka-chan.” Minju nods firmly at her and holds up a hand. “I, Park Minju, hereby attest that I really enjoyed this gift from Sakai Moka. I will treasure it deeply and frame it on the shelf of my room where the whole world can see it.” 

Moka laughs, the tension easing out of her chest. “You’re so corny. Yunah’s rubbing off on you.” 

Minju drops her hand with a huff. “I’m way better than Yunah.” She puffs out her chest. “Was Noh Yunah the one that received Sakai Moka’s second button of her Japanese high school uniform? Was Noh Yunah the one that wrote a l— a letter for Sakai Moka? No. It was Park Minju.” She juts a thumb at herself. 

“It’s Park Minju that’s too cowardly to let Sakai Moka read her letter,” Moka teases. She relishes the way Minju pinks, the bravado rushing out of her. She deflates, leaning back against the bench. “Don’t be mean,” Minju bemoans. “I spent a long time trying to figure out what to say, seriously.” 

Moka’s heart is so full. “I’ll read it well,” she reassures her softly. Moka leans back against the bench as well and tips her head back towards the stars. 

For now, I’ll just enjoy this night with you. 

if you ever read this story (ooh)

To Sakai  To Moka  To Sakai Moka Moka-chan, 

First off, I’m really sorry for the crossed out parts at the top. I restarted this letter a lot of times, but this was my last piece of paper (and somehow I still messed up the beginning) so please forgive meㅠ 

Moka… How can I even start? To Moka who is so dear to me, you must’ve been surprised when I gave you this letter, right? Hopefully everything went to plan, and you received this on the last day of camp and are reading it now the day after. I’m writing this because there are a couple things I want to say to you, but I’m too cowardly to tell you to your face. 

Even though Yunah is not right often, I think she was right that time when she said it was fate that we met each other. I mean, your time in Korea, in Namyangju, started this past July, while my time in Namyangju ends the following February. That’s only seven months, though we only really met each other in August, so really it’s more like six. Super short, and yet our paths intersected anyway like two parallel lines of thread that are cinched in the middle.  

 

(And that’s another thing, isn’t it? That day in July, a couple weeks before the beginning of the second semester, when I saw you for the first time in the grocery store, was really like a fateful day for us. At least for me, when I saw you, my breath was taken away. I couldn’t help glancing over at you, wondering how and when such a beautiful person had entered my small world, hoping you wouldn’t catch me looking but also hoping you would, so I’d get the chance to see you properly. Ultimately, you left before our eyes could meet, and later you said you didn’t realize I had spotted you. Guess I hid it pretty well, huh? ㅎㅎㅎ

Anyway, I thought it was just one of those cases where you see a handsome or beautiful stranger in public, and you can just admire them from a distance because your time together in that airport or library or whatever place is fleeting anyway. I honestly didn’t expect that you’d show up at school on that first day back. I think I felt both relieved and nervous, all at once.) 

 

Sorry. I rambled a lot just now. Even though we slowly got comfortable talking to each other these past months, I somehow still feel it’s easier to be honest on paper. It’s because you make me nervous, Moka. How can I express all my thoughts properly when you look at me like that? 

So, on to the main part of this letter. You can probably guess from how I was talking in this letter up until this point, but I like you, Moka-chan. (My hands just shook when I wrote that.) And like a coward, I’m telling you over writing instead of in-person because I don’t think I could stand being rejected to my face. I’m a weak person, Moka. You make me weak. 

If this is weirding you out, I give you permission to burn this letter. It must feel weird, right? This girl you met four months ago is confessing her love for you despite being unable to look you in the eye for the first month of knowing each other. Honestly, I won’t blame you if you can’t stand to face me after this. That’s another reason why I told you to wait to read this, so that I’ll be on my way to the city and out of your face for the rest of winter break by the time you do find out my true feelings. 

Moka, since there’s a high chance you’ll burn this letter and never want to see me again, I’ll pour out my true thoughts here. I really, really, really like you, and I have ever since I first laid eyes on you. I think initially, in the grocery store and on the first day, it was a mixture of surprise, fascination, and intrigue because you were something unfamiliar in my life. But then as I got to know you, I fell for you for real, and I developed these feelings for you. How could I not? You’re so sweet, and funny, and pretty, and kind, and you make everyone around you feel warm and seen, me included, even though I selfishly wished you would show that side more to me than anyone else. You’re simply amazing, Moka. 

It’s a little embarrassing how much I feel for you, Moka. (Yunah teased me for it every day. It was like she was psychic and could tell right away how smitten I wasㅠ) Every day, I want to see you and be near you and keep you safe and spoil you with snacks and shower you with compliments, but there was a distance between us that I needed to cross at first. I hope that I wasn’t imagining it in these past few months and we were actually growing closer (even though I just destroyed all of that with this letter…) through our convenience store runs and horror movie nights. Because I felt like the chasm between us was shrinking, I began to be a bit braver and show you more of my affection rather than bottling it all up. If you were able to feel it, then maybe this letter won’t come as so much of a surprise. 

So, yeah. I’m writing you this letter because our time together is quickly coming to an end, and I wanted to let you know my true feelings before we never see each other again. I’m reading it back now, and cringing a little bit at how desperate I sound, but these are my true thoughts, and no matter how embarrassing it may be, I would regret it more if I never told you. If I can be selfish just one more time, I have one last wish: I hope I’ll be a part of your memories of high school, and your time in Korea, and that you’ll remember our time together fondly. I know that may be a bit hard with how off-putting this letter is, which is why it’s my last selfish wish. (I can’t help it, Moka. I want so many things with and from you, but I couldn’t possibly demand them from you. That’s why they stay solely on my end, as simple hopes and wishes and delusions that are contained just within me.) 

I understand, and actually expect, that you’ll reject me. That’s fine, as long as this secret no longer looms between us. It’s in the air now, and you are free to do whatever you wish. 

Though we’ve only known each other for a short amount of time, I’ll remember you as a core part of my youth. You brightened my days and made me truly happy in the time we spent together. Thank you for putting up with me all this time, and I’m sorry once again that I couldn’t maintain our friendship until the very end. 

Goodbye, Sakai Moka. I hope you live a long and fulfilling life. 

Love, your admirer and fellow horror movie enthusiast, Park Minju ♡

(P.S. I can’t even watch Train to Busan anymore without thinking of you. I guess only a lovesick fool like me would get both happy and sad at a zombie apocalypse movie, right? ㅋㅋㅋ) 

연애소설 같은 내 story (내 story)

my story that’s like a romance novel (my story)

널 우연하게 만나고 엇갈려도 괜찮아

even if I meet you by chance or pass you by, it’s okay

Moka’s hands shake. The letter flutters fiercely with the tremors of her iron-clad grip. 

Minju likes me? 

She can’t believe it, and yet the proof of it is gripped between her fingers right now. 

This isn’t some sick joke, is it? 

The thought arises in Moka’s mind, but it dies as quickly as it comes. As unbelievable as this letter may seem, Minju’s the kind of person to be honest when it matters. If Moka’s learned anything about Minju at all, it’s this. Even if Moka was somehow obvious enough about her feelings for Minju to pick up on it, she wouldn’t prank her like this. 

Which means . . . it’s real. Minju has real, actual feelings for Moka, and it’s not just in her head. Moka’s large, unruly, unbearable feelings for Minju are somehow reciprocated.

Moka takes a step back and drops into her desk chair in shock. She’s still clutching the letter with all her might. 

What does this mean for them now? 

Moka glances at her desk clock. She’d woken up early to read this letter. She’d even set an alarm, but Moka didn’t need it because the anticipation of reading a precious letter from Minju was enough to keep her on the brink of unconscious until the morning. 5:11 AM, the clock reads. 

Minju loves sleeping. There’s a chance she hasn’t left yet and is still at her house. 

Moka sits up so fast, she gets dizzy. When she looks out her window, she sees faint wisps of dawn rising over their neighborhood. That’s good enough, Moka decides. 

With the stealth of a spy in enemy territory, Moka creeps out of her room and down the stairs. She tiptoes her way to the side door, the one without the camera equipped on the front. If Moka remembers correctly, she should be able to open this door and— there. 

Leaning against the wall is her sister’s bike. Moka takes just one moment to grab her jacket off of the rack and slip into a pair of beat-up sneakers before stepping outside and closing the door behind her. Taking hold of the handles, Moka wheels the bike to the side gate and opens it slowly to prevent creaking. Overhead, the clouds are beginning to part for the dawning sun, but there’s still a while before proper sunlight spills out from the skies. 

As expected, the December wind is as biting as ever, more so because of the early morning. Moka tightens her jacket around herself and swings a leg over the bike seat. She twists the knob that turns on her sister’s headlights, and slowly pedals her way out of the neighborhood. 

Once Moka’s cleared sight of her house, she picks up speed and travels the familiar path to Minju’s house. Please still be home, Moka chants in her mind as she pedals. The need to catch Minju before she leaves for the rest of winter break is enough to dull Moka’s regret over not changing into warmer clothes. If arriving at Minju’s house in mismatched pajamas and a thinning jacket means catching her in time, then so be it. 

As she bikes, Moka contemplates what she’ll say when she sees Minju. Would she say I accept right away? Would she step forward and hug Minju, like she’s always wanted to? Or would she just clam up, unable to say anything once she’s face-to-face with Minju? 

The old Moka, the one who was drowning in her all-consuming feelings with no shore in sight, might’ve done the latter. But this isn’t the old Moka anymore. The Moka that’s pedalling with all her might to Minju’s house at five in the morning in the still-dark cusp of dawn and the frosty wind is the Moka that read Minju’s letter. And this Moka won’t let this chance pass her by. 

Up ahead is the last corner Moka needs to turn before she reaches Minju’s house. Instantly, her palms begin to sweat. Moka only grips the handles that much harder and pedals even faster. 

When she turns the corner, the first thing she sees is the retreating back of a moving van. Its engine is already on, the back pipe puffing smoke into the air. And standing beside the van, one foot in the door, is Park Minju. 

She’s still in her pajamas. On her head is a bunny headband that keeps her hair out of her face. She looks like she just woke up. From the end of the neighborhood, Moka watches Minju push up with her one foot and lift herself into the van. And in the split-second before she disappears, Minju turns her head. 

Their eyes meet. In that moment, the half-kilometer that Moka is trying with all her might to close feels like it shrinks to just one meter between them. Minju’s eyes widen, but it’s too late. 

The van door closes with finality. It wastes no time in rolling right along in the opposite direction Moka came. By the time Moka stops in front of Minju’s house, cheeks red and panting hard, the van is already at the other end of the neighborhood. It turns, disappears, and just like that, Park Minju is out of reach. 

There’s fire in Moka’s veins. No. No. No no no. She snaps out of her shock and sets off again, pedalling with all her might to the end of the street. 

Maybe I can still catch her? One desperate girl on a bike versus a van puttering along on the early morning roads. Can she make it? 

No. She has to. 

But when Moka reaches the corner, she has to brake to a sudden stop when a car zooms past the perpendicular street. She can’t turn without causing an accident, but every second that Moka spends waiting for the car to pass is another second that Minju moves farther and farther from Moka. 

By the time the road is clear and Moka can turn, there’s nobody there. Moka follows the street down, but she already isn’t too familiar with Minju’s neighborhood aside from the path between their two houses, so Moka has no idea where the winding roads lead. If her chances of catching Minju were slim before, they’re next to nothing now. 

Moka slows to a stop and pulls over to a nearby wall. She feels numb, and not because of the cold. 

Minju, she thinks hysterically. I missed you. I miss you. I tried to go to you, but you’ve already left. 

As the sun peeks through the clouds and casts its rays onto Moka, a single tear rolls down her cheek. 

고백하지 못하는 내 heart 

my heart that can’t confess

먼발치서 쳐다보고 마음만 더 커져가는 걸 

looking at you from afar, my heart just keeps growing 

For the rest of that first week of break, Moka is a shell of a girl. Every day, her routine is the same: wake up at 1PM, reread Minju’s letter, try not to cry, watch a horror movie, try not to cry, eat something if she feels like it or if her mom makes her something, reread Minju’s letter, stay up late rewatching the movies they used to watch together, and pass out around three in the morning.

On some day during the second week, Moka actually wakes up early for once. She opens her eyes, blinking blearily at the clock on her stand: 10:08 AM. She’s tempted to roll over and continue sleeping, but then something catches her eye. 

Moka sits up slowly, her blanket pooling around her legs as she stares at the window. She gets up and pads over to the glass, where small bits of frost cling to the frame. Outside, a light snow falls on the ground. 

It’s the first snow. Like always, Moka’s first thought lands on Minju. Are you seeing this, Minju? I would’ve liked to watch the first snow with you. 

The thought makes her heart ache. Moka stumbles away from the window and drops onto her bed again. It may be snowing outside, but the chill in Moka’s bones is deepest. She wraps her blanket around herself and curls up into a tight ball, wishing for warmth but knowing none will come. 

Then, it’s Christmas. Her parents make a big fuss about putting up their tree and adorning every surface of their house with ornaments, but Moka’s heart isn’t in it. 

Even her sister notices. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?” she barks. “You’re ruining the whole mood.” It’s a little hard to take her seriously with the obnoxious antler headband jammed on her head, but even that isn’t enough to crack a smile from Moka. 

“Be nice, girls,” their mom calls from atop the stepladder. 

Her sister is still giving her a side-eye. “Piss off,” Moka says tiredly. She picks up the next ornament out of the box: it’s a gag gift from one of their friends, a big pink peach ornament that’s supposed to look like a butt. The sight of it just reminds Moka of Minju—you liked peach-flavored things. And you smelled like peaches—and the thought makes her want to cry again. She’s quiet for the rest of the day. 

They knew each other for such a short amount of time, Moka doesn’t even know if Minju celebrates Christmas. Would they have gotten gifts for each other? Moka imagines Yunah would’ve wheedled the five of them into doing a gift exchange, but she can also imagine wanting to get Minju her own present, separate from the group. 

And now that she knows Minju likes her too (!!), the possibility of Minju getting her a present in return is non-zero. Or, would have been, considering Minju’s in the city right now and nowhere near Moka. 

Oh, Minju. She’s probably alone in the city, believing that her feelings are unrequited. Why couldn’t you tell me earlier? Why didn’t you let me give you my answer before you left? 

When her family rings in the New Year, Moka’s feelings are much the same. 

“Why don’t you just text her?” 

Moka’s sitting on the floor, leaning against the mirror wall at Iroha’s dance studio. Even her mom had gotten fed up with her moping and kicked Moka out for the day, telling her to go do something fun and cheer yourself up. Unfortunately, the first things Moka thinks of are buying snacks at the convenience store or going to the theatre for the new movie showing, but both things remind her too much of Minju. 

So she called up Iroha and asked to hang out for the day. Iroha, whose dance academy was on break for the holidays, was just workshopping some new moves, so she readily agreed. She’d nearly fallen to the floor in shock when Moka told her the news, which pretty much sums up how Moka feels about the whole thing. 

“I mean, it’s not like we live in the stone ages, Moka-chan.” Iroha stands over Moka and sips on her water. “It’s the digital age. We have phones. You have her number, I’m pretty sure.” 

Moka knocks her head back against the wall and sighs. “But there’s this whole thing between us. I need to address it, but I don’t want to talk about it over text.” She gives Iroha a long-suffering look. “I need to see her in person, Roha-chan.” 

Iroha shakes her head. Setting her water down, she returns to the center of the room. “Then there’s not much you can do. Are you just going to mope around, then?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I see.” Iroha blows a hair out of her face. “Can you queue up my playlist on my phone?” 

Moka slumps further down and pats around blindly for Iroha’s phone. Once she has it in front of her face, the brightness of Iroha’s phone screen makes Moka squint. Then—

“Is this a picture of you and Wonhee?” 

Iroha goes still. She doesn’t meet Moka’s eyes. “Yes?” 

“Did you two finally get together?” 

“It’s not like that, she—” 

Moka sits up. “She just texted you.” 

“What?!” Iroha runs over, faster than Moka’s ever seen her move, and snatches the phone out of her hands. Moka watches her face, pink from exertion, redden even more as she reads Wonhee’s text. 

Moka, meanwhile, runs her hands down her face and groans. “Why are you having better luck in love than me?” She slumps against the wall again. Don’t get her wrong, Moka’s happy for Iroha, but her heart is a fragile thing right now. 

Iroha, like the kind and sweet soul she is, has the decency to look embarrassed. “It’s okay, Moka-chan. If it helps, you’re welcome to come dance with me!” Music starts playing from Iroha’s speaker and she throws her phone onto the ground again. “It helps relieve stress, I swear.” 

Moka sighs again. “I’ll just watch you for now. Maybe if I feel like it.” 

Iroha shrugs and bounds back to the center of the studio. She moves her body to the music, jumping and spinning and popping as her heart pleases. Moka misses feeling that light of heart. 

When the song ends, Moka sits up. She’s about to take Iroha up on her offer and join her on the dance floor, but then the first couple beats of the next song starts playing and Moka falls back against the mirror with an anguished sound. This can’t keep happening to me. 

“What, what’s wrong?” Iroha glances at Moka with concern. She’s still dancing to the song. 

“This is the song,” Moka says miserably. At Iroha’s confused look, she adds, “The song I was listening to when we first met. When I put my earbud in her ear.” 

“Oh.” Iroha laughs awkwardly. “That’s a shame.” 

Moka throws her head back and groans again. 

Sunday evening before they return to school, Moka sets her alarms. Korean school years run a little differently from the ones in Japan, meaning the school year ends in February instead of April. Thus, by the time the students come back from winter break at the end of January, there’s approximately two weeks of instruction before school lets out again for spring break, in the transition between school years. 

That means from the time Moka returns to school, she has a two-week window to hunt Minju down find Minju before she’s really gone for good. It’s two weeks. How hard could it be? 

Apparently, it’s much harder than Moka expects. That first day back, she doesn’t see Minju at all. Not in the morning, not at lunch, and not at the end of school. By the time Yunah is standing at the front of the class and giving the end-of-day announcements, Moka’s itching out of her skin. She practically corners Yunah with her eyes when she descends the aisle. 

“What?” Yunah asks coolly. Nonchalantly. Not like there’s a huge blaring absence in their midst. 

“Where’s Minju?” 

“Oh, her?” Yunah’s eyes dart to the sides. “I think she’s still with her family. I heard she’s coming back towards the end of the week.” 

“You heard?” Moka nearly screeches. Aren’t they supposed to be best friends? Moka can understand Minju not letting her know her whereabouts, as heartbreaking as that is, but Yunah?

“Oh, well, I guess I know. ‘Cause she told me,” Yunah clarifies. She at least has the decency to look ashamed. 

Moka deflates, sitting back in her seat. “I see,” she says distractedly. That at least means that Minju’s not purposefully ignoring me, right? 

“Cheer up, Moka-chan,” Yunah chirps. She drops a reassuring hand on Moka’s shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll come by soon enough.”

The next day goes by much the same. Moka cranes her neck, trying to find Minju, but her Minju-radar doesn’t go off no matter where she looks. Her only saving grace is that the teachers aren’t doing much in their classes as graduation looms for the seniors, so Moka is free to wrack her brain in peace. 

Then, on Thursday, Moka hears whispering. She’d just arrived at school, and around her, kids are in gaggles and whispering behind their hands about something. In particular, there’s a group of girls by the restroom that are giggling amongst themselves. 

Moka comes up to the water fountain by the door, trying to make herself as unremarkable as possible, and ducks her head. She runs the water, but trains her ears to pick up their words. 

“Did you see her this morning?” 

“No, but Jiwoo did.” 

“So it’s true, then?” 

“What’d she look like?” 

“She looked terrible!” Out of the corner of her eye, Moka sees one of the girls waving her hands for emphasis. “Like she hadn’t slept in days!” 

“I heard she was wearing her uniform all wrong.”

“It looked totally wrinkled, like she threw it on last minute.” 

“Seriously?” 

“No way.” 

“This is completely unexpected from the untouchable ice queen.” 

Moka’s blood runs cold. Ice queen? She straightens up and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She must’ve been staring too obviously, because one of the girls notices her. With a look of discomfort, she turns away from Moka, and the whole group of them start walking away. 

Moka watches them go with a racing heart. As far as Moka knows, only one person at this school is called the ice queen, and she’s exactly the girl Moka is looking for. Moka begins to take a step towards Minju’s homeroom, but the bell chooses that exact moment to ring overhead. 

Oh no. Moka briefly contemplates running to Minju’s room anyway, but the thought of getting scolded for being late sobers her. Curse this school for doing tardy sweeps during the last week. She’ll just have to find her after class. 

This proves to be much harder than Moka thinks, which seems to be a recurring theme in her life these days. She’s not sitting at lunch with Yunah when she approaches the table, and suspiciously Wonhee isn’t there, either. 

Yunah gives her a smile when she spots her. “Moka-chan!” she greets cheerfully.

“Hi, Yunah. Roha-chan.” Moka nods and sets her plate down. “Where’re the others?” Where’s Minju? 

“Oh, you know,” Yunah says breezily. I don’t know, Moka thinks sourly. “They have a last-minute project or something that they’re finishing, so they won’t be joining us for lunch today.” 

Moka is silent. Beside her, Iroha says, “Oh, that’s a shame,” but Moka thinks that’s a bit of an understatement. She picks up her chopsticks and pushes around her bean sprouts with a troubled expression. 

When the school day ends, Moka’s really getting mad. She beelines to Minju’s homeroom as soon as Yunah is done with her announcements, and yet Minju herself is nowhere to be found. 

“Where’s Park Minju?” Moka asks a nearby student. 

He looks vaguely confused. “I think she went home? She left right away as soon as we were done.” 

“I see.” Moka gives the boy a curt nod and nearly storms out of the classroom. Park Minju, Moka seethes, are you ignoring me? 

Moka spends fifteen minutes scoping the entirety of campus and comes up empty-handed. She must’ve gone home, then, Moka concludes. No matter. She’ll just ask to meet up somewhere. 

But when she opens her messages with Minju, Moka feels her sadness creep back. The last message in the channel is a good night^^ from Minju the last night of their camping field trip. That was before they all woke up early the next morning and boarded the buses to go home, and the last time Moka saw Minju before she disappeared off the face of the earth. 

Minju, please don’t tell me you’re actually ignoring me, Moka pleads internally. She pulls up her keyboard and types out, Can we meet? Moka hesitates for just a moment before sending the message. They got into this mess because they were too scared, so Moka’s not going to take any chances. 

To her horror, the message bounces back. A system message pops up: 

This phone number is not accepting messages at this time. 

Moka’s heart drops to her stomach. This whole week she’s felt awful and anxious, and now seeing this is the final cherry on top of a hopeless pie burnt to a crisp. A hopeless peach pie, Moka thinks miserably. 

With this revelation, Moka feels like a bucket of ice cold water has been dumped over her head. Now Moka can see the truth with startling clarity: Minju doesn’t want to see her. Minju doesn’t want anything to do with her, period. 

When Moka arrives home and plops face-down onto her bed, her freshly washed pillow becomes tear-soaked once more. 

On the last day of school, Moka had gotten one singular Minju sighting. She had been coming back from the restroom when she saw someone duck into the teacher’s office. Silky black hair tucked into a cap, school uniform askew, nearly sickly pale skin visible even from down the hall—Moka’s radar went off. It was her. 

But Minju already made her stance clear. Who knows? Maybe her feelings changed, and now her avoidance comes from a place of disgust rather than embarrassment. Moka would be none the wiser. 

So Moka just continued walking and pretended she wasn’t craning her neck to look inside the teacher’s office when she passed.  

At the end of the school day, when the final teacher dismisses them, Yunah turns to Moka with an uncharacteristically serious expression. She motions for Moka to wait until all the students have cleared the classroom before speaking.

“Okay, spill. You’ve been mopey all week, and I know it’s not because the school year just ended.” Yunah crosses her arms and frowns, concerned. “Last week you were grumpy, but at least you had the energy to bite back at me. This week, it’s like the life’s been sucked out of you. As your friend, I’m concerned.” Yunah reaches out and places a hand on Moka’s. “Tell me, Moka-chan. What’s wrong?” 

Inexplicably, tears well up in Moka’s eyes. She brings a hand up to wipe them, but they fall instead, rolling down her cheeks in fat wallops. Moka has to bite her lips to avoid letting out any incriminating sobs. 

“Oh, Moka.” Reaching across the aisle, Yunah wraps her arms around Moka and pulls her to her chest. 

With the proximity, Moka can’t hold it in anymore—she buries her face in the crook of Yunah’s neck, sobbing loud, guttural sounds that are pathetic even to her own ears. Still, Yunah lets her dampen the collar of her uniform with her tears. She strokes a soothing hand up and down Moka’s back, whispering reassurances to her as she lets out the emotions that have been bottled inside her since the moment she opened that thinly sealed envelope. 

Eventually, Moka pulls away and sniffs, rubbing a hand up and down her face to dry her tears. “Thanks,” she says thickly. 

“Of course,” Yunah replies simply.

“It’s just—” Moka hiccups. “I really loved her. I think I still do. But she can’t stand to even be in the same vicinity as me.” 

“Who?” 

Moka looks up, tear-streaked cheeks raw with her rubbing, and all but wails, “Minju!” 

Yunah’s face does something complicated. It contorts, going from surprise to disbelief to shocked, then back to a perfectly smooth face of worry. 

“You loved Minju?” 

Moka nods miserably. “On the last day of the field trip, she gave me a letter.” She looks down at her skirt and picks at the hem rather than look at Yunah. “And she told me not to read it until the next morning. She— confessed to me in that letter.” Another hiccup. “And she said she specifically told me not to read it until the next morning because she didn’t want to face me, so she ran away to the city.” 

Laughing near-hysterically, Moka finally looks up at Yunah. “And now she’s been avoiding me ever since she came back. I thought, since we only had these two weeks left before the end and she was gone for good, I could catch her and talk to her.” Moka laughs humorlessly. “I was so stupid.” 

“Hey, don’t say that.” Yunah pats Moka’s knees encouragingly. “Have you tried reaching out over text?” 

“She blocked me.”

“Oh dear.” Yunah frowns, eyebrows furrowing. This is her thinking face, Moka thinks. The precursor to her scheming face. 

“Anyway, thanks for listening to me,” Moka says quickly. Yunah’s face changes again into a kind smile. She nods. “I just needed to let that out, I guess.”

“Anytime.” Yunah stands and holds out a hand for Moka, smiling broadly. “Come on. Let me treat you to a meal, since you skipped lunch. You look haggard, no offense.” 

Moka huffs out a laugh and takes Yunah’s hand. As they make their way out of the classroom, Moka’s dried tears feel less raw than they did before. At the very least, even if Moka lost Minju forever, she’s glad she found a friend in Yunah. 

Guess this is goodbye, Park Minju. In the courtyard, Moka turns her face up to the sun. I wish I could have told you how I felt. 

안녕 나의 모든 것 책이 끝나기 전에

goodbye, my everything, before this book closes

내 고백을 한번만 받아줘

please accept my confession just this once

“Park Minju!” 

The yelp that comes out of Moka’s mouth shocks even her. She and Minju (!!) both freeze at the sound. Ironic, considering they’re both standing in front of the freezers. 

“Moka! I—” Minju stutters, taking one step back. She’s in a cap and sweats, face bare and hair up in a bun, and Moka has never thought she looked more beautiful. Hearing her name on Minju’s tongue again after nearly two months is enough to make Moka’s knees wobble. She leans a hand against the freezer for stability.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. For— packing.” Minju looks at her fearfully. 

“Wait!” Moka hates how desperate she sounds. Though, really, she is desperate. After giving up on finding Minju, what were the odds that she’d appear right in front of Moka in the middle of the grocery store, not even a week out of school? Feeling her old vigor reignite, Moka clenches a fist and takes a step forward. She won’t miss this opportunity, not again. “Just let me say one thing. Then I’ll let you go.” Forever. 

Minju must be fighting a battle in her head. Her arms and legs are poised to go, but her expression is trapped, apprehensive, and wanting all at once. One part of her must win, because she straightens up in place. “Okay. What is it?” 

“I love you,” Moka blurts out. She winces, because that is not what she was planning to say, and yet she doesn’t take back the words once they’re in the air. They felt right on her lips, directed to Minju. 

Minju’s eyes widen. 

“I read your letter, and I wanted to tell you that I feel the same way,” Moka declares. Her voice wavers, but she powers on. “And I’m sorry for making you doubt my feelings and making you feel shame for yours.” Moka’s eyes well up. Her hands shake from where she’s fisted them into balls by her side. 

“I wish we had more time together, but I know that’s not the case. So, I’ll let you go now.” Her voice cracks. “Just, when you’re in the city and attending college— please remember that Sakai Moka from Fukuoka, from Namyangju, loves you.” Moka lets out a huge breath, feeling the wind knocked from her chest. 

Minju doesn’t move. She just stares at Moka with the most devastated expression, Moka can’t bear to look. So she turns, and takes one step, and—

Hands grab her shoulders and spin her around. Before she can process what’s happening, Moka is pulled into a tight embrace. 

Peaches. The first thing Moka notices is that the scent of peaches is so strong, it envelops her. The second thing she notices is how Minju shakes. 

Without wasting another second, Moka brings her arms up and wraps them just as tightly around Minju’s body. They hug each other, no, squeeze one another until it’s hard to breathe around the body in her ribcage, wrapped around Moka’s weak heart. 

“Moka,” Minju breathes. The sound enters Moka’s ears like a warm melody. “I’m so sorry.” She pulls back but doesn’t go far, keeping her arms wrapped around Moka’s shoulders. Likewise, Moka keeps her arms linked around Minju’s waist. 

Looking at her with ten centimeters of space between them, Moka can see how shiny Minju’s eyes are. They’re pretty, framed by long lashes and the unshed tears sitting on her waterline. “I’m so sorry,” Minju repeats, a broken whisper in Moka’s ears. 

A tear falls down her cheek. Moka reaches a hand up and wipes it away with her thumb. Even when she looks gaunt and pale, Minju’s skin is still so soft. 

“I’m sorry for running away. Oh, Moka, if only I had known—! I shouldn’t have run away. I should have let you give your answer instead of being selfish and only protecting myself,” Minju murmurs. She brings her own hand up and brushes Moka’s hair out of her face. 

“You’re so pretty, Moka-chan.” Minju caresses the side of Moka’s face. “Don’t cry. I’m so mad at myself for making you cry.” 

Moka didn’t even realize silent tears had fallen until she felt Minju’s featherlight touch on her cheek. “I think,” she breathes, “we’ve been sorry too much. The two of us.” 

Breathing in again, Moka forces herself to take a step back. Minju’s face falls. Her hands linger on Moka’s shoulders, and Moka doesn’t have the heart to push her off. 

“Since you’re leaving, I’m glad we were able to talk to each other one last time.” Moka can hear the sound of hearts breaking. “Like you said in your letter, I— I hope you live a long and happy life.” Moka’s vision blurs, but she blinks rapidly to clear it again. 

“Oh, I— Moka.” For some reason, a smile is spreading on Minju’s lips. It creates such a pretty contrast on her cheeks, between her shiny eyes and dazzling smile. “Oh, Moka, you won’t believe this. I’m staying.” 

WHAT? 

“What?” Moka reflexively tightens her grip again. “You’re staying? Here?” She begins to grow excited despite herself, her swollen cheeks slowly widening. 

Minju nods enthusiastically. “Can you believe it, Moka? I fought and fought with my mom, and finally she agreed to let me stay for my last year of high school.” Her eyes sparkle as she looks at Moka. 

Moka can’t help it—she shrieks and wraps Minju up in a hug again, squeezing like there’s no tomorrow. Minju seems to have a similar agenda in crushing Moka into the flattest human possible. 

After a moment, she loosens up and takes Moka’s hands in hers, so the two of them are now holding hands. Moka can’t help the giddy laugh that bubbles out of her. 

“You’re really staying?” 

“Really.” Minju nods rapidly, looking like the world’s most adorable bobblehead. 

“Wait, so earlier, when you said you needed to pack—” 

“I lied,” Minju says giddily. Moka isn’t sure she’s ever seen someone admit to lying so gleefully, but she’s never been more relieved to hear it. She giggles again, squeezing Minju’s hands involuntarily. Minju squeezes back without a second thought. 

“Then, does that mean . . . ?” 

Minju’s eyes widen again. Her hands tighten around Moka’s hands, and she holds them up, pulling Moka closer. Beginning to breathe heavily, Minju looks deep into Moka’s eyes and clears her throat. 

“Sakai Moka,” she starts, voice wobbly. “Will you be my girlfriend?” 

“Yes.” The answer is out of Moka’s mouth before she even finishes the question. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. I would love to be your girlfriend, Park Minju.” 

Minju giggles at her enthusiasm. She lets go of one of Moka’s hands and brings her hand up, squeezing both of Moka’s cheeks in her hand. Moka doesn’t miss the way Minju’s eyes drop when she puckers her lips with the motion. “I have the cutest girlfriend in the world,” she coos. 

Moka’s face bursts into flames, a happy heat that swirls excitement and elation in her gut. “No, I have the cutest girlfriend in the world.” 

“No, I do.” 

“No, I do.” 

“No, I do, and to prove it, I’m going to treat my cutie patootie girlfriend—” Minju leans over and slides open one of the freezer lids, “—to the best ice cream in the world.” 

God, she’s so corny, Moka thinks fondly. “Okay, I’ll accept that.” She can’t believe this is happening. Somehow, it’s better than anything she’s ever dreamed of. 

Moka reaches into the freezer and pulls out a peach-flavored ice cream, handing it to Minju. 

Minju gasps as she takes the cup. “How’d you know?” 

Moka grins playfully and nudges Minju’s hip with hers. “Because I have the cutest girlfriend in the world, and I remember all her preferences,” she says smugly. 

“Two can play at that game.” Reaching a hand into the freezer, Minju glances inside and pulls out a mint chocolate cone. She holds it out for Moka with a dramatic flourish. “For my lovely girlfriend.” 

Giggling again, Moka feels a tightness in her chest loosen into a gooey feeling that swallows her whole. When Minju takes her hand and intertwines their fingers together, Moka lets herself be tugged to the front. Minju insists on paying for both of their ice creams, so Moka pretends to swoon and clings onto her arm. 

Outside, Moka and Minju sit down on some stools. Despite the late February weather, Moka thoroughly enjoys the ice cream, and tells Minju as much. 

“It must be the experience of eating with you that makes it sweeter.” 

Minju blushes prettily, an image that Moka wants to sear into her mind forever. Sitting outside the convenience store, ice cream in hand and a pretty girl by her side, Moka knows there’s no better feeling.