Chapter Text
Nayeon felt sleepy. The soft buzz of the air conditioner on the subway and the almost empty car made her feel even dizzier.
Why is it so late? Nayeon didn’t know. There are days like this when she starts work at a certain time but has no idea when she’ll finish.
Today was one of those days. Momo was sick—again—and Jihyo asked her to cover her shift. She needed the money, so she said yes. But people were crazier than usual. She probably cleaned more tables, served more coffees, and cut more slices of cake than any other day in her life. But Jihyo was happy and paid her for the extra shift on the spot. Plus, the tips were good too. She should be happy.
But she wasn’t.
Momo wasn’t sick at all. She knew that. Momo was dating this American girl she met last week, and they probably ended up at Momo's place again. Momo knew Nayeon was willing to do extra shifts, so it was a win-win. But for once, Nayeon thought it would be great if she were the one getting laid with some beautiful stranger instead of Momo. To forget about money, rent, debts, and family responsibilities, and just have a good time.
The sound of the doors closing woke her up a little, just in time to see a girl squeeze through the tiny space between the closing doors and barely make it inside. The girl and the doors stared at each other for a second, and Nayeon couldn’t help but smile. The girl had beautiful long black hair, just like the kind Nayeon wished she had. She took a seat right in front of her, and Nayeon saw that she had a beautiful face too. She wondered what her name was. She probably had a beautiful name as well. She smiled at someone—maybe the old lady seated next to her—and of course, she had a dazzling smile with the most beautiful cheeks Nayeon had seen in a while. People must smile at her all the time, Nayeon thought.
Why is it so difficult? Nayeon sighed. Just asking a stranger their name. Shouldn’t that be easier? It’s easy for Momo, for sure. She spots a sexy girl, and she’s right there, making conversation like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She should ask Momo how she does it. Nayeon took out her phone and smiled, imagining how it would look if she had the guts to ask this girl for her name. “Hi, sexy girl. I’m Nayeon, the loser. What’s your name?” Yeah, that’ll work. Definitely.
The subway shut its doors, almost catching her. She let out a little yelp and glared at the silent but menacing door. The doors seemed to grimace back at her, saying, “Next time, Sana, we’ll catch you.” She walked away from the weird doors and found an empty seat.
So late. Almost nine o'clock. On a different day, she would have let the train pass and not taken the chance. But another ten minutes after such a long day felt like an eternity, so she went for it, and now here she was. Traveling home and a little scared of a subway door.
She looked around, and a few people were still looking at her. An older woman glanced at her, smiling and shaking her head in disbelief. Sana smiled back, and the older lady slowly mouthed the word, “Stupid.”
Right. Well, maybe she has a point.
It’s this day that refuses to end and refuses to get better. She knew what was waiting for her at home: her empty little apartment, some old food, and some TV. Nothing more. After a whole day of classes and meetings, when she’s supposed to go home and unload on someone, she’ll find nothing. No one. Not even a cat. Studying so far from home seemed like a great idea two years ago. “Go to Seoul,” they said. “It’s not really that far,” they added. But at nine o’clock at night, when the only thing you want is to have someone at home to chat with, Osaka feels like a world away.
She looked back at the old lady, who had lost interest in the stupid girl who flew into the train and was now busy spying over the shoulder of the girl seated next to her. The girl was reading her phone and smiling. She was pretty, Sana thought, unconsciously fixing her hair. The other girl looked happy—not “happy happy,” just tired but content, like something was warming her heart. She was so lucky. And so pretty. Sana groaned internally and covered her face with her hands. Great. The last thing I need right now is to develop a crush on the subway. I already have every reason to feel miserable. I definitely don’t need another one. She looked into her bag and took out the Economy book she’d been underlining for what felt like a year. Why not? Come here, old friend.
Nayeon sent the message, vaguely hoping at least the sound of the notification would interrupt something on the other end. She watched the girl with black hair over the top of her phone. She was reading a book and making notes in the margins. Such a smartass. Obviously. Nayeon tried to guess what type of book it was. Not literature, probably. It didn’t look like one. More like one of those science manuals. But the girl smiled while making notes. Who smiles while reading a science paper? Probably the same kind of moron who enters a subway like a lunatic.
She wished the girl didn’t have such a contagious smile. It made her smile too.
Maybe she’s some kind of doctor? Although she looked young. That would be cool. “Father, do you remember that time you told me I was so useless I couldn’t even catch a good doctor who could help the family? Well, guess what…?” Suddenly, it seemed like a good idea—coming out of the closet to her father but, hey, look! She’s a doctor.
She probably wasn’t a doctor. She must be some kind of scientist. Yeah. Nayeon could imagine her in a white lab coat, with glasses, mixing things in weird bottles, looking sexy with that black long hair and those lips… Nayeon pinched her nose. She needed to calm down. She was embarrassing herself again. Her phone buzzed quietly. Momo’s reply. “Just ask her something! Whatever!” Nayeon bit her lip. What can I ask her? Hey, sexy girl. Do you like tteokbokki? Yes? Funny thing is, I can cook it really well. Want some? Dream, Nayeon, dream.
Sana looked up from her book and checked on the pretty girl. She was biting her bottom lip.
Damn.
She wondered who was making her blush. A boyfriend? Maybe a girlfriend? More importantly, how does it feel to blush, to bite your lip because of someone? Sana didn’t remember. It had all happened so fast. One day she was in school, having lunch with Mina, laughing and without a care in the world, and the next day, here she was. Studying Economy, writing papers, dining alone.
Where did her life go? The pretty girl smiled and blushed even harder. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling, and Sana thought it was impossible for someone to look cuter. Does he know? Whoever is at the other end of that phone, does he know how lucky he is? Having this pretty girl smiling and blushing like this should be illegal.
Back in school, when she was 14, she spent a summer convinced she was in love with Mina. It was hard to have such feelings, to harbor hopes and dreams, but not have someone to talk to because Mina was her best and only friend. She wanted to make her laugh all the time, send her cute stickers, buy her favorite candies, tell her how beautiful she was, constantly. Until wise and good-hearted Mina sat her down at the kitchen table and had “the talk” with her. It was the most embarrassing moment of her life, not only because she outed herself but in such a clumsy way. But Mina told her that Sana made her feel so important and appreciated that summer that she probably spoiled whatever relationship Mina would have in the future. She asked her not to change and not to feel embarrassed because someone would be very lucky someday to be the object of Sana’s affection.
Good Mina, but not that wise, because that day had never come.
She averted her eyes from the smiley girl seated in front of her because, at this point, she might end up crying. Again.
She looked back at the book. She really tried to read it but ended up writing little things in the margins. “Blonde,” “Long braid,” “Converse shoes,” “bunny teeth.” Why am I doing this? Is it because I don’t want to forget her? Maybe she could ask Chae to make a drawing of her with these notes. “And what was her name?” Chae would ask. “I don’t know, but please don’t forget the bunny teeth biting the sexy lip. It’s the most important detail.”
Sexy girl was no longer smiling. Now she looked at her book with thoughtful eyes. She had let her head rest against the window frame, and although it seemed impossible, she looked even more beautiful. Why are you sad, sexy girl? Why were you smiling just a minute ago, taking notes on your science book like it was the happiest thing you were doing in your life? What happened? Is it because of something? Is it because of someone? Does that person know you're sad right now because of them? Is it worth it, sexy girl? Nayeon felt that, just like the infectious smile a moment ago, sadness now crossed the space between them like winter through an open window.
Momo was texting on the phone about standing up and “Being a man.” What’s that supposed to mean? Momo is probably the second person most interested in Nayeon getting laid. Probably the first. “That’s your problem,” Momo told her, smoking a cigarette in the alley behind the coffee shop. “You’re trying to fall in love. That’s not how it works.” Momo, who usually talks like she’s high on something, has a point. The Japanese waitress just tries to get to know women, as many as she can. “It’s a numbers game. I’m putting myself out there. Love will come.” Reincarnated Confucius, but with bangs.
But Momo’s way isn’t for everyone. Nayeon has a place to come back to every afternoon. A father who needs someone to split his medication. A sister who needs help with her homework. A mother who hasn’t set foot outside since her stroke years ago. Maybe it’s too much. Not for her, because this is her life, the only one she knows. But for someone else. Maybe for the sexy girl.
What could she offer her? She watched her again. She was back to her book. The sadness had passed, apparently. She was writing something with a furrowed brow. Something had come to her mind. She was so gorgeous. Nayeon needs to talk to her. At this point, it’s ridiculous not to. What could she say to her?
“Look, young lady, you should be careful next time. Subway doors can be very tricky.” No. No, for God’s sake. “Hey, you, beautiful eyes, how are you?” Yeah, that will definitely guarantee some action... at the police station. “Listen, this will sound very weird, but if you don’t give me your number, you’ll never know…” Know what, exactly?
Seriously, Nayeon, just call Momo and put her on the phone. “Excuse me, can you talk to this friend of mine for a second? Yeah, on the phone. No, I’m not joking. Just a little chat.”
Nayeon slapped her forehead. Why am I such a loser? Why…?
Pretty girl just slapped her forehead. No! Don’t you dare touch that pretty face again, you hear me? Pretty girl? Ugh. This is not going anywhere. She hasn't looked in Sana’s direction, not even once. In a couple of minutes, the subway will arrive at her station, and she will have to leave. The pretty girl will never know that someone named Sana Minatozaki, a sophomore in Economics at the University of Seoul, winner of the gold medal at the Institute of Middle Education in Osaka, romantic, naive, but above all a coward, was seated in front of her, silently watching her pretty face.
Or maybe she will. Sana glanced back at the book. This is a bad idea. She read the margin of the page: “Hi, I don't know your name, and I’m too cowardly to ask, but if you do want to know mine, it's Sana. I think you are pretty.” She hesitated about whether to include her phone number or her email. The phone number seemed too much. The email could work. She entered the address right under the text. She looked into her bag and took out a ruler, carefully ripping out the piece of paper from the book along with something John Maynard Keynes wrote that probably didn’t work either.
She stared at the little paper in her hand. What am I doing? Why this? Why now? Is it because I feel lonely? Maybe. I have been feeling lonely for a long time. It’s not new. What has changed, perhaps, is that I realize that not being alone is something that depends on me. I need to take action, to take the risk of being embarrassed, of being rejected. I cannot wait any longer for the universe to make amends for my life. It’s up to me. And the pretty girl right there, well, she's the lucky one. Nothing more. Sana will take this first step, and then another one, until things start to look the way she wants. She looked up, and the pretty girl was no longer there…
The subway has arrived. Nayeon can feel it slowing down as it enters the station. She looks back at the sexy girl. Why haven’t you looked at me at least once? I could have told you with my eyes what my mouth won't say. It was such a short ride. Would it be different if it were longer? She was afraid, that's the truth. But not of failure, of success. What if the sexy girl wants to talk after all? Wants to have dinner? And then, what? How many “Sorry, I can’t tonight” or “Sorry, but I need the extra shift” until the sexy girl meets someone more available on another subway?
Nayeon stood up and moved in front of the door. The sexy girl was staring at a little piece of paper she had ripped out of her book. What have you written there?
Nayeon turned back. Enough.
This hunger is aching already. In ten seconds, she will be out of this train, and it will not hurt anymore. Of course, she will think of her, and probably she will look for her in the subway, once, maybe twice. But that will be all. Oblivion, sexy girl.
The doors opened, and Nayeon exited the train. One last look, just because she likes her hair. It won't hurt, right?
Sana felt the hiss of the doors before she heard it. She stood up and saw the pretty girl’s back just standing there, outside the train. She made a step, approaching the window. Where are you going? What are you doing out there? She realized that the piece of paper was still in her hands. When she looked up again, she met the pretty girl’s eyes, staring directly into her own.
Nayeon realized that she was looking into the sexy girl’s eyes. She was standing in the middle of the train, looking directly at her. Nayeon opened her mouth. She wasn't expecting this. She wanted to say something, but nothing came out. She raised a hand, trying to make her wait. But the sound of the closing doors reminded her that this was something beyond her control. Beyond both of them. The sexy girl came to the window and smiled. She had unlocked a new level of beauty. She raised her hand, and Nayeon could see the little paper she had ripped out from the book a moment ago. The sexy girl put it against the window, and the train started to leave. Nayeon didn't know where to look. The paper… the sexy girl… She tried to focus on the paper. She couldn’t read it; the letters were too small. What did it say? Something... something... Sana. She looked up. “Sana?” she muttered. The last thing she saw of the sexy girl was her smiling face, nodding, and two words silently saying “Find me.”
The train slipped into the darkness of the tunnel. Sana stood still, with the paper in her hand.
Damn.