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She's huddled up in a corner, trying to tuck her real hair beneath the wig, when Kwon tiptoes in. She grins when she catches sight of Mizi, and it lights up her whole face. Mizi likes Kwon, not only because she's the only person she knows and can trust to tell her the truth, now that she's on the run, but also because she's like a mix of Hyuna and Sua. She looks more like Sua, with her pale face and round eyes, but she talks with Hyuna's confidence, and her smile makes Mizi go all warm inside. Someone still wants her around.
"Wongtonghan!" she says, excited. "You're here!"
"Hi, Kwon," Mizi says, pushing her hair behind her ear. She gives Kwon a weak smile. Wongtonghan is the name she gives people now. A little on the nose, but that is what she feels: bitter. She is bitter, more than anythig. She is more bitter than sad, more than angry. She is bitter that Sua is dead, and that Ivan is dead, and that Hyuna is dead, and that Till is all alone. She's bitter that Luka survived it all and that Alien Stage was rebuilt and that it is still going now. She's bitter that she's alive.
"Thank goodness," Kwon says, kneeling to Mizi's level. "Oh, I got scared!" She shakes her head and gives Mizi a rueful smile. "But you're an elusive girl, Wongtonghan, I should have known you would be OK."
Mizi scrunches up her face. "What are you talking about, Kwon?"
"The gray-haired motorcyclist!" Kwon exclaims. She lowers her voice like she's telling Mizi a secret. Mizi's heart pangs. She doesn't hear what Kwon tells her, because she sees Sua, all of a sudden, in her kind eyes. She remembers nights where she told Sua gossip about their classmates. Acorn looks at you with stars in his eyes, she would say, smiling slyly. Sua would giggle and say he had no chance. I think Till looks at you the same way, she confided once. Mizi had waved her off. No way, she had said. But she watched his eyes, after that, and Sua had been right. "... Anyway," Kwon concludes, "I talk too much. The big thing is that he's been going around to bars and inns and places, anywhere he can talk to people, ask them about you."
"Hm," Mizi says. The gray-haired motorcyclist, Kwon had said. Mizi didn't feel hope very often anymore, but she felt a spark of it swell up within her. "What does he look like?"
"Well, he wears a helmet, mostly, from what I hear," Kwon tells her, settling cross-legged on the ground. Mizi's shoulders slump. Then there's probably no way to know, she thinks to herself sadly. "But," Kwon continues, "He came here just last night, to stay at the inn where I work. I saw him with his helmet off: he had gray hair, cropped close to his head, and sharp green eyes. There was scarring, a lot of it, all around his throat." She leans in. "I heard him ask about you, talking about a girl with big green eyes and long, black hair. He took off his helmet and wrote it down on paper. Then he asked Bo-Hui if she had seen you, and he showed her a drawing of you." She reached out a hand to hold Mizi's chin, curved a thumb over her cheek. "Wongtonghan, it looked just like you."
"Oh," Mizi murmured, looking away from Kwon's face. Till had always been an artist; she remembers so many days when they were kids and she and Sua were running around while Ivan looked over Till's shoulder as Till sketched away in his book.
"Wongtonghan, I was worried for so long," Kwon says. Mizi looks back at her, and sees her face scrunched into concern. "I've been hearing about him for a long time at the inn. Many people come there, and I hear them talk, talk, talk, and they have been talking about him for weeks! I've come here every day, looking for you, hoping that you are here." Kwon smiles sadly. "I see you so little."
"I'm sorry," Mizi breathes out. Kwon's round face is so close to hers, and she can't help but see Sua in that face. Kwon's eyes are so dark that they are black. Sometimes when Mizi kissed Sua, her pupils grew so big, they swallowed the purple and made her irises like black holes.
Kwon's hand moves on her face again. "Wongtonghan ..."
Mizi spends virtually all her time alone. She has no friends now, only Kwon to tell her news when she makes her way into their town, mercifully empty of aliens. She could spend her life here safely, probably, if it weren't for Kwon.
"You're so beautiful," Kwon whispers. She closes her eyes. "I dream of your face at night."
Mizi dreams of Sua's face at night, her pale, moon-like complexion and her small hands. Mizi dreams of Sua, and holding her in her arms. Sua is what brings her comfort at night, what lets her relax when she's tense about being found out by aliens, or the Rebellion, or anyone at all. She thinks of Kwon sometimes, but it's a fleeting thing at most.
Mizi doesn't pull away. "Kwon," she begins, then hesitates. What she means to say is: Stop. She means to say: I don't like you in that way.
"I really like you, Wongtonghan," Kwon sighs, eyes still closed. "More than anything."
But she wants it. She's alone even when surrounded by people. She is alone more than even Till must be, thinking everyone is gone. She's wanted to tell him I'm still here so much.
"You're pretty," Mizi finally says, thumbing Kwon's wrist. Kwon opens her eyes.
She doesn't want to be alone, so when Kwon slots their mouths together, Mizi keeps her mouth open, waiting. Someone still wants her around: in this moment, she is wanted. Till, she thinks. I'm here. I'm waiting.