Saturday mornings at JYP Arts felt almost unfamiliar.
Without the weekday rush of classes and rehearsals, the campus seemed to exhale. The tall glass buildings still caught the light in long, pale streaks, and the polished walkways still gleamed faintly from the coolness of the night, but everything moved more slowly. There were fewer students crossing the courtyard, fewer voices carrying through open windows, fewer sounds bleeding from practice rooms. Even the silence felt different — not empty, just resting.
Mina stood in the middle of her room with one sock on and her hair half tied back, staring at the tote bag she'd dropped onto the chair across from her bed.
She still hadn't fully decided whether she was going.
Not because she didn't want to, exactly.
More because the idea of spending an afternoon at the Han River with a group of people she barely knew felt strangely intimate in a way rehearsals and cafeteria lunches didn't. Those belonged to school. They had structure. They had reasons. Even when they were messy, they still made sense inside the walls of JYP Arts.
This didn't.
This was just… showing up.
Her phone buzzed on the desk.
Mina glanced over absently, expecting a reminder from Jihyo or maybe an overexcited message from Sana.
Instead, Chaeyoung's name lit up the screen.
Mina stopped moving for half a second.
Then she crossed the room and picked up her phone.
The message was short.
Chaeyoung:
i've been kidnapped
Mina blinked.
Another message came in almost immediately.
Chaeyoung:
dahyun and tzuyu showed up at my dorm and dragged me out
i tried to be difficult but i was outnumbered
A laugh slipped out of Mina before she could stop it. It sounded strangely loud in the quiet room. She sat down on the edge of the bed and typed back.
Mina:
that sounds like a you problem
The reply came fast enough that she could almost picture Chaeyoung glaring at the screen while typing.
Chaeyoung:
wrong
it's now a you problem too
they said if you try to get out of coming, sana is under strict orders to physically retrieve you
Mina shook her head, smiling despite herself.
Of course.
Before she could answer, another notification appeared.
This time from Sana.
Sana:
i'm downstairs ☀️
and yes i have been sent to make sure you actually come
Mina dropped her head for a second, laughing quietly into her shoulder.
There went any chance of pretending she hadn't seen the messages.
She looked down at Chaeyoung's first text again.
i've been kidnapped
Something about the image it created — Chaeyoung being dragged unwillingly into daylight by Dahyun and Tzuyu like some deeply offended cat — made Mina's chest feel unexpectedly light.
She typed one more reply.
Mina:
survive until i get there
The typing bubble appeared.
Then:
Chaeyoung:
no promises
Mina stared at the screen for one second longer than necessary before locking it and tossing it onto the bed.
Then she looked at the half-packed tote bag again and let out a quiet breath.
"Fine," she muttered to the empty room.
She pulled on her second sock, finished tying back her hair, grabbed the tote bag, and headed downstairs.
Sana was waiting exactly where she'd promised she would be, near the bottom of the dorm steps with sunglasses pushed up into her hair despite the fact that the sun still wasn't bright enough to justify them. She had a canvas tote bag slung over one shoulder, an iced coffee in one hand, and the kind of effortless posture Mina had started to associate with girls like Sana, Nayeon, and Momo — girls who moved through spaces as if they had never once questioned whether they belonged there.
The second she saw Mina, she grinned.
"Good," Sana said. "You came willingly. That saves me from having to drag you out in front of witnesses."
Mina stepped off the last stair and adjusted her bag on her shoulder.
"You say that like you were prepared to."
"I absolutely was."
Sana took a sip of her drink and looked Mina up and down with exaggerated seriousness.
"You're dressed like someone willing to touch grass. That's promising."
"That is a very low bar."
"You'd be surprised."
They started down the path toward the station together, their pace easy in the cool morning air. The streets around campus were quieter than usual, with only the occasional bus or taxi breaking the calm. Mina could hear birds somewhere in the trees lining the main road, and the sound felt weirdly out of place against the city.
For a minute or two, neither of them said anything.
Then Mina glanced sideways.
"So they really dragged Chaeyoung out?"
Sana's grin widened immediately, like she'd been waiting for that question.
"Oh, completely. Tzuyu blocked the door and Dahyun stole one of her shoes."
Mina laughed.
"That feels excessive."
"That's because you haven't seen Chaeyoung when she decides she doesn't want to leave her room."
Sana paused, then added cheerfully, "It becomes an event."
Mina looked down at the pavement, still smiling.
She could picture it far too easily. Chaeyoung, half awake and unimpressed, glaring at Tzuyu while hopping after Dahyun with one shoe missing. The image settled into her mind with embarrassing clarity.
Beside her, Sana glanced over the rim of her cup.
"You're smiling."
Mina looked up too quickly. "What?"
"Nothing," Sana said, far too innocently.
Mina rolled her eyes, but her mouth still hadn't fully settled back into place.
By the time they reached the subway entrance, the sidewalks were starting to fill. The station smelled faintly of metal, warm concrete, and stale air-conditioning. The weekend crowd was thinner than the weekday one, but there were still enough people on the platform that they had to stand close together while they waited.
When the train arrived, they managed to find two seats by the window. Sana settled in sideways with one leg folded beneath her, her iced coffee balanced easily in one hand, and turned to Mina with an expression that instantly made Mina wary.
"No," Mina said.
Sana blinked. "No what?"
"No whatever question you're about to ask."
Sana smiled.
"You know me so well already."
"That's the problem."
The train started moving, carrying them out from beneath the station and into the blur of the city. Sunlight flashed across the windows in broken pieces as they passed between buildings. For a while, Sana didn't say anything. She just watched the city slide past outside, one finger tapping absently against the side of her cup.
Then she turned her head.
"So," she said casually, "how are you actually doing here?"
Mina looked out the window.
There it was.
The real question.
"It's… a lot," she admitted after a moment.
Sana nodded slightly, as if she had expected that answer all along.
"That's fair."
"The school," Mina continued. "The people. Everyone already knows where they belong here. It feels like I showed up in the middle of something and everyone else got the script before I did."
Sana hummed softly.
"That is the most accurate description of JYP Arts I've ever heard."
Mina let out a quiet laugh.
"That isn't very comforting."
"It's not supposed to be."
Outside, the city kept slipping by in glass and concrete fragments. A river bridge appeared in the distance between buildings, then disappeared again.
For a few seconds they rode in silence.
Then Sana asked, much more lightly, "And Chaeyoung?"
Mina's head turned toward her a little too quickly.
Sana's smile widened at once.
"Oh," she said. "So that's interesting."
Mina looked back out the window.
"She's not—"
"Don't say fine," Sana cut in. "That word has suffered enough."
Mina bit back a smile.
"She's complicated."
Sana leaned back in her seat.
"That's generous."
"You say that like I'm wrong."
"I say that like complicated is the polite version."
Mina watched the city move by outside, tall buildings breaking into pieces across the glass.
It was quiet for a moment before she said, "Everyone gets weird when she's mentioned."
Sana didn't pretend not to understand.
"Yeah."
"Everyone says half a sentence and then stops. Or they say 'last year' like that explains anything."
For the first time since they sat down, Sana's expression softened.
She looked out toward the river, which was beginning to appear now between the buildings in quick flashes of pale silver.
"Last year changed a lot of things," she said quietly.
Mina turned toward her.
"What happened?"
Sana was silent for a moment.
Then she exhaled softly and shook her head.
"I know parts of it," she said. "Not all of it."
"That's still more than anyone else will tell me."
"I know."
The train slowed slightly as it crossed the bridge.
Finally Sana added, "For what it's worth, Chaeyoung doesn't let many people sit under that tree with her."
Mina blinked.
"What does that mean?"
Sana turned back to her, smiling again now, though there was something gentler in it.
"It means exactly what I said."
Mina looked down at her hands. The window reflected the river in broken strips of silver across her knuckles.
Sana sat back and pushed her sunglasses higher into her hair.
"You know," she added, sounding amused again, "most people here decide which group they belong to pretty quickly."
"And you?"
Sana smiled without looking at her.
"I don't like rules."
Mina studied her then, properly.
The tote bag at Sana's feet looked plain until you noticed the stitching. The sunglasses were probably worth more than Tzuyu's phone. Even the iced coffee in her hand had come from one of the expensive cafés off the main road instead of the vending machines around campus.
Sana moved through the world with the same polished ease Mina had seen in Nayeon and Momo — the kind that came from never having to wonder if you belonged somewhere.
Mina noticed it because she had grown up around it.
Most people would have called it confidence.
Mina knew it could be something uglier too — the habit of expecting the world to make room for you.
The train slowed into the station.
"And try not to look terrified when we get there," Sana said as she stood. "You're doing that thing with your face again."
"I'm not doing anything with my face."
Sana looked at her for one second.
Then she laughed and stepped out onto the platform.
By the time they emerged from the station and followed the path down toward the river, the air had changed completely.
It smelled like warm grass, hot concrete, food from the stalls farther down the path, and water that had been sitting all morning in sunlight. Cyclists passed every few seconds. Families spread blankets near the river. Couples stood by the railing with takeaway drinks and matching sneakers. The whole place felt brighter and looser than school ever did, as if everyone had agreed to take a break from being difficult.
Mina spotted the others almost immediately.
Jihyo was sitting cross-legged on a blanket, unpacking food containers like she had personally taken responsibility for keeping everyone alive. Dahyun sat beside her with a bag of snacks in her lap, already complaining about the amount of effort Jihyo had put into the afternoon. Tzuyu stood near the railing, taking photos of the water with her phone.
Jeongyeon leaned against the metal barrier.
And a few feet away from everyone else, Chaeyoung sat on the grass with her sketchbook propped against one knee.
Mina's eyes found her first.
That irritated her only because she knew Sana probably noticed.
Sana cupped both hands around her mouth.
"Hello, peasants!"
Dahyun looked up.
"That's a terrible greeting."
"You still responded."
Sana dropped her bag onto the blanket and flopped down beside Dahyun as if she had been aiming for that exact spot the whole time.
Mina lowered herself more carefully onto the edge of the blanket.
Chaeyoung glanced up.
Their eyes met for only a second.
Then Chaeyoung looked back down at the page, though Mina could have sworn the corner of her mouth moved slightly before it disappeared.
Jihyo smiled.
"You made it."
"Barely," Sana said, immediately reaching into Dahyun's snack bag without permission.
"That's my entire lunch," Dahyun said.
"And yet," Sana replied, already chewing, "here we are."
Tzuyu wandered back over and sat on the grass beside the blanket, one leg tucked beneath her.
"She complained the whole train ride."
"That is slander."
"It is not," Mina said before she could stop herself.
Sana gasped and clutched her chest.
"I trusted you."
Dahyun laughed.
The conversation flowed easily after that. Jihyo passed around drinks. Dahyun made sarcastic comments about the amount of food. Tzuyu showed Mina one of the photos she'd taken — the sunlight on the water so bright it almost looked white. Sana leaned against Dahyun's shoulder more than once, sometimes when she laughed, sometimes for no reason Mina could see at all.
Dahyun never moved away.
Mina noticed it because it was impossible not to.
It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't secretive.
It was just there.
Easy. Familiar. Real.
And then two new shadows fell across the blanket.
"Well," Momo said, looking down at the group with one hand on her hip, "this is cute."
Every conversation stopped.
Mina looked up.
Momo stood there in oversized sunglasses and a loose black hoodie that probably cost more than half the things on the blanket combined. Beside her, Nayeon held two cold café drinks in one hand, looking completely at ease in a soft cream cardigan and skirt that somehow still managed to look polished enough for a magazine spread.
They hadn't come like the others had.
Not on the train, sun-warmed and slightly windblown, carrying tote bags stuffed with practical food and whatever anyone could afford to grab on the way out.
They looked as though the afternoon had arranged itself around them.
Even dressed casually, they still belonged to a different world.
Momo pushed her sunglasses up onto her head.
"We weren't invited," she said, "so naturally we came anyway."
Sana lit up immediately.
"You came!"
"We were in the area," Nayeon said smoothly.
Mina doubted that.
So did Chaeyoung, if the sudden stillness in her shoulders meant anything.
Jihyo looked between them.
"You said you were busy."
"We changed our minds," Nayeon replied.
Her voice was warm.
Pleasant.
Almost too pleasant.
That made Mina uneasy straight away.
Momo dropped onto the grass without hesitation, stretching one leg out.
"This better be worth the walk."
"You were dropped off three minutes away," Nayeon said.
"Still traumatic."
Sana laughed. Dahyun shook her head. Jihyo muttered something about dramatic rich people that made Tzuyu smile into her phone.
Nayeon lowered herself beside the blanket more carefully, setting one of the cold drinks down next to Momo before taking a sip from the other.
Her gaze moved lightly across the group and landed, inevitably, on Mina.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi," Mina replied.
She hated how normal that sounded.
Nayeon smiled.
It was softer than the ones she wore at school.
Not less deliberate.
Just harder to resist.
For a while, things held together.
Jihyo offered food. Momo complained about the lack of shade. Sana stole Momo's drink and declared it too expensive to taste good. Dahyun immediately drank some too and agreed. Tzuyu continued taking photos as if she were quietly collecting evidence for something later.
But the divide remained there in small ways Mina couldn't ignore.
In the way Nayeon and Momo had brought café drinks only for themselves.
In the way Sana sat on the grass in a skirt that was definitely designer and somehow made it look effortless.
In the way Jihyo's food was homemade, practical, packed into mismatched containers, while Momo inspected it like a restaurant critic pretending to be playful.
And in the uncomfortable fact that Mina noticed all of it because, if she was honest, she belonged closer to Nayeon and Sana on paper than she ever would to Chaeyoung or Dahyun.
That fact sat inside her like a pebble in her shoe — small, irritating, impossible to ignore.
For a while, things stayed easy.
Jihyo unpacked more food. Dahyun complained about the amount she'd brought, but still opened containers for her anyway. Tzuyu drifted between the blanket and the river path, taking pictures whenever the light changed. Sana talked enough for three people and still somehow found time to lean against Dahyun every few minutes like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Across the blanket, Chaeyoung sat with one knee drawn up, sketchbook resting against it. She wasn't really part of the conversation, but she wasn't gone either. Every now and then she added a line to the page, then went still again.
Jihyo twisted around to look at everyone properly, a drink balanced in her hand.
"So," she said, smiling as if she was about to ask something completely harmless, "how's showcase prep going for everyone?"
A collective groan rose from the blanket.
"Bad question," Dahyun muttered.
"A necessary question," Jihyo replied.
Momo stretched one leg out farther in front of her.
"We're fine," she said. "Sana keeps trying to turn everything into a tragic stage play, but we're surviving."
"It's called emotional range," Sana shot back.
"It's called overacting," Momo replied.
Sana gasped.
Nayeon smiled into her drink, saying nothing.
Jihyo laughed softly and looked farther down the blanket.
"Tzuyu?"
Tzuyu lowered her phone from where she had been checking photos.
"I'm alive," she said. "That's all I can promise."
"That's honestly fair," Jihyo said.
Then her gaze shifted toward Jeongyeon.
"And you?"
Jeongyeon had been leaning back on her hands, looking out toward the river. At the question, she turned slightly and shrugged.
"It's going good," she said.
Her tone was easy. Casual.
Then she smiled — just a little.
"I hope my performance tops last year."
The world didn't stop.
It only felt like it did.
Mina didn't understand it at first. Not the line itself. Not why the air around the blanket suddenly seemed to pull tight.
But she felt it.
Everyone did.
Across from her, Sana's smile vanished.
Dahyun's hand froze halfway to the snack bag.
Even Tzuyu looked up properly now.
And beside the blanket, Chaeyoung stopped moving.
Not slowly.
Immediately.
Her pencil went still against the page.
Then, with a carefulness that felt more dangerous than anger, she closed the sketchbook.
"What did you just say?" Chaeyoung asked.
Her voice wasn't loud.
That made it worse.
Jeongyeon looked over at her, and Mina got the strange impression she had expected some kind of reaction — just not one this sharp.
"I said I hope my performance tops last year," Jeongyeon repeated.
Chaeyoung let out one short laugh.
There was nothing amused in it.
"Wow."
"Chaeyoung—" Jihyo started.
But Chaeyoung was already pushing herself to her feet.
"No, it's fine," she said, though it clearly wasn't. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the sketchbook. "That's a really interesting thing to say out loud."
Jeongyeon stood too, brushing grass from the back of her jeans.
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Then how did you mean it?"
The question snapped across the blanket so sharply Mina felt it in her shoulders.
Jeongyeon exhaled through her nose.
"You know exactly what I meant."
Chaeyoung tilted her head slightly.
"Do I?"
The river breeze moved through the grass around them, soft and completely out of place.
Jeongyeon folded her arms.
"I'm not doing this with you again."
At that, something shifted in Chaeyoung's face.
Not dramatically.
Just enough for Mina to notice.
"Again?" Chaeyoung repeated quietly. "You say that like I'm the one who keeps bringing it back."
Jeongyeon looked away for half a second, then back again.
"You always do this. Every time last year gets mentioned, you act like—"
"Like what?" Chaeyoung cut in.
Jeongyeon didn't answer immediately.
That hesitation said more than the sentence would have.
Chaeyoung laughed again, softer this time, and somehow even uglier for it.
"Right," she said. "That's what I thought."
Across the blanket, Nayeon still hadn't said a word.
But Mina saw her then.
Saw the faint smile curving at the corner of her mouth as she watched the argument unfold.
Not surprise.
Not discomfort.
Satisfaction.
Small enough that maybe no one else would notice.
But Mina did.
And once she saw it, she couldn't unsee it.
Jeongyeon stepped forward.
"I'm not the villain you want me to be."
"No," Chaeyoung said. "That would be easier."
That made Jeongyeon's expression harden.
"At least I stayed," she snapped. "At least I kept working."
Chaeyoung went still.
Jeongyeon must have seen something in her face, because instead of stopping, she kept going.
"Everyone thought that performance was the best of the year," she said, her voice rising just enough to make the line cut. "The teachers, the judges, everyone. People were still talking about it months later."
The words hit hard enough that even Mina flinched.
For one terrible second, Chaeyoung looked too angry to speak.
Then she did.
"You really want to say that to me?"
Her voice had changed now.
Still quiet.
But shaking at the edges.
"You really want to sit there and smile about last year like it was something good?"
Jeongyeon's jaw locked.
"I'm allowed to be proud of my work."
Chaeyoung's laugh this time was raw enough to make Sana look down at her lap.
"Your work?" Chaeyoung repeated. "That's what we're calling it now?"
"Chaeyoung," Jihyo said, standing now too. "Sit down."
But Chaeyoung either didn't hear her or didn't care.
"You don't get to talk about last year like it was some beautiful little triumph," she snapped. "Not after what happened."
Jeongyeon's face lost some of its color.
For a second, Mina thought that might be enough.
Then Jeongyeon said, "I didn't do it alone."
The sentence landed like broken glass.
This time even Nayeon's smile paused.
Mina felt the shift immediately — the sudden sense that this had gone far enough that nobody knew how to pull it back.
Chaeyoung stared at Jeongyeon, breathing hard now.
For the first time, the anger in her expression flickered into something else.
Recognition.
Pain.
Something old enough to be familiar.
Mina stood before she had fully decided to.
"Hey."
Both girls looked at her.
She became instantly aware of how little right she had to stand in the middle of this — how new she was, how much she still didn't know.
Still, she didn't move.
"It's supposed to be a day off," Mina said, trying to keep her voice even. "Can we not do this here?"
Neither of them answered.
The river kept shining behind them. Cyclists passed on the path. Somewhere nearby a child laughed. The normalness of everything around them made the moment feel even sharper.
Finally Jihyo let out a long breath.
"She's right."
For a second it looked like Jeongyeon might keep going anyway.
Then she looked away first.
Chaeyoung didn't say anything.
She just sat back down abruptly, though she didn't open the sketchbook again. She held it in both hands like she needed something solid to stop herself from shaking apart.
The argument ended there.
At least out loud.
But the tension stayed.
It settled over the blanket, invisible and heavy, changing the shape of everything that came after. Nobody seemed quite sure what to say next. Even Sana, who could usually joke her way through anything, stayed quiet for a few seconds too long.
Then Tzuyu lowered her phone, looked around at the group, and asked in the same calm voice she used for almost everything,
"So… should I delete the group photo I took right before this, or is it historically important now?"
For one second, nobody moved.
Then Dahyun snorted so suddenly she nearly choked.
Sana folded sideways into her shoulder, laughing loud enough to startle a couple walking past the blanket. Even Jihyo let out a short, helpless laugh as she covered part of her face with one hand.
Momo dropped her head with a groan.
"That is such a terrible thing to say."
Tzuyu gave a tiny shrug.
"I needed to know."
And despite herself, Chaeyoung's mouth twitched.
It wasn't much.
Just the faintest smirk, there and gone almost as quickly as it appeared.
But Mina saw it.
And for some reason, that small expression eased something tight in her chest.
For the first time since the argument, the group felt like it might survive the rest of the afternoon.
After a while, Mina drifted toward the railing, needing air that didn't feel packed with everyone else's tension. The river below flashed gold every time a boat disturbed the surface, sunlight breaking apart and then pulling itself back together again.
She heard footsteps beside her and didn't need to look to know who it was.
Nayeon stopped at her side, close enough that Mina caught the clean scent of her perfume over the smell of the river. It was the same scent she always seemed to carry — soft and expensive and now, annoyingly, familiar.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Then Nayeon rested one elbow lightly against the railing and looked out over the water.
"You did well," she said.
Mina glanced sideways.
"At what?"
"At stepping in."
Nayeon took a slow sip from her drink before lowering it again. "Most people here would've pretended not to notice."
Mina looked back out at the river.
"I just didn't want them fighting."
"That's still more than most people would've done," Nayeon said.
Her voice was quieter here.
Less polished somehow. Or maybe it only felt that way without mirrored practice rooms and crowded hallways around them.
Mina turned toward her properly then, and that was the problem.
In the softer river light, Nayeon looked different. Her features seemed less sharp without the school wrapped around her. Her hair moved slightly in the breeze. Her expression — usually so controlled that Mina could never tell where she stood — looked almost open.
Almost.
The realization caught Mina so off guard she looked away immediately.
"You're being very nice today," she said, because it was easier than saying anything true.
Nayeon smiled faintly.
"Am I usually not?"
"That's not what I said."
"It's what you meant."
Mina let out a small breath through her nose.
The annoying part was that she wasn't entirely wrong.
For a few seconds they stood in silence again, the sound of the river filling the space between them. Behind them, the others had started talking more normally again — Jihyo trying to force the afternoon back into something manageable, Sana's laughter rising too loudly, Momo complaining about something Mina couldn't make out.
Then Nayeon spoke again.
"You know," she said, still looking at the water, "you don't always have to be so careful around me."
Mina frowned slightly.
"What does that mean?"
This time Nayeon turned her head.
"It means," she said, "every time I talk to you, you look like you're waiting for me to do something awful."
Mina opened her mouth.
Then shut it again.
Because that wasn't entirely wrong either.
Nayeon's smile didn't disappear, but it softened enough that Mina felt it somewhere low and uncomfortable in her chest.
"I'm not saying I haven't earned that," Nayeon went on. "I probably have."
That surprised Mina enough to make her look at her fully.
Nayeon noticed.
And for the first time in what felt like days, she didn't seem to use it against her.
"I just think it's interesting," Nayeon said, "that you only ever tense up when it's me."
Mina's fingers tightened slightly around the railing.
"That's not true."
Nayeon tilted her head.
"No?"
The question was gentle.
That made it worse.
Mina looked away first, out toward the river again, but the warmth had already crept up the back of her neck and she hated that Nayeon had probably seen it.
Nayeon leaned a little closer — not enough to be obvious, just enough that Mina became painfully aware of her.
"You looked better today than you did in practice," Nayeon said quietly. "More relaxed."
Mina frowned.
"You were watching me again?"
Nayeon shrugged one shoulder.
"A little."
There it was.
That same quiet certainty.
Like noticing Mina was the most natural thing in the world.
Mina should have found that irritating.
Part of her did.
The other part — the smaller, more disloyal part — felt something warmer move through her before she could stop it.
And that was what shocked her most.
Not Nayeon's tone.
Not the closeness.
The fact that, for one brief second, Mina understood exactly why people fell into orbit around her.
Nayeon saw something shift in her face then. Mina knew she did.
But instead of smiling like she'd won, Nayeon only studied her for a second and said, very softly,
"You don't have to like me."
Mina blinked.
"What?"
Nayeon looked back toward the river.
"But you should at least let yourself see me properly."
The sentence landed harder than it should have.
Because it didn't sound like a threat.
It sounded honest.
And Mina didn't know what to do with honest coming from Nayeon.
Behind them, Sana burst into loud laughter.
Mina turned automatically toward the sound.
Sana had folded sideways into Dahyun's shoulder again, one hand gripping her sleeve as Dahyun said something close to her ear. They looked so easy together that for a second Mina almost smiled.
Then she noticed Chaeyoung farther down the path, standing alone near the railing.
The smile vanished before it fully formed.
Beside her, Nayeon noticed too.
"You should go," she said quietly.
Mina turned back to her.
"What?"
Nayeon lifted her drink slightly, eyes still on the path where Chaeyoung stood by herself.
"She's not going to ask for company," Nayeon said. "That doesn't mean she wants to be alone."
The sentence caught Mina off guard.
There was no edge to it.
No jealousy she could hear.
That should have made it easier to trust.
Instead it only unsettled her more.
By the time Mina looked back toward the path, Nayeon had already stepped away from the railing.
She returned to the blanket as if nothing strange had passed between them at all.
Mina hesitated for only a second.
Then she went after Chaeyoung.
Chaeyoung stood with both hands resting on the railing, looking out over the river as if the water might offer answers no one else could.
Mina slowed when she reached her side.
For a moment she didn't say anything.
Neither did Chaeyoung.
The silence between them wasn't empty. It was packed with everything the blanket hadn't let them say.
Finally Mina spoke.
"You okay?"
Chaeyoung let out a breath that might have been a laugh if it had more life in it.
"Do I look okay?"
Mina looked at her properly then.
The wind had pushed a few strands of hair across Chaeyoung's face. There was still graphite on the side of her hand. Her expression was flat in the way Mina was beginning to recognize as dangerous — not calm, just closed.
"Not really," Mina admitted.
Chaeyoung glanced at her.
"That's honest."
"You sound surprised."
"A little."
Mina leaned against the railing beside her.
Behind them, Sana laughed again, softer this time. When Mina looked back, Dahyun was saying something too quietly for anyone else to hear, and Sana was smiling at her in a way that looked less playful now. More certain.
"They're getting obvious," Mina said.
Chaeyoung followed her gaze briefly.
"Yeah."
"They're good for each other."
Chaeyoung nodded once.
For a little while they stood there without speaking, the river moving below them in slow flashes of light.
Then Chaeyoung said quietly, "You didn't have to step in."
Mina turned toward her.
"Yes, I did."
"No."
"You were both about to say something you'd regret."
Chaeyoung's mouth twitched faintly.
"That assumes I don't already regret most things."
The joke landed wrong.
Not because it was too dark.
Because of how lightly she said it.
Mina looked at her more carefully.
"You joke like that a lot."
Chaeyoung frowned slightly.
"Like what?"
"Like none of this matters."
Chaeyoung was quiet for a second.
Then she shrugged.
"Maybe it doesn't."
Mina looked back at the water.
"It matters to you."
That made Chaeyoung turn her head.
Really turn.
Something in her expression softened then, just slightly, as if Mina had brushed against something real beneath all the irony.
"You're annoying," Chaeyoung said.
Mina laughed softly.
"I'm starting to notice that every time I say something true, you insult me."
"That's because I'm charming."
"That's not the word I'd use."
A small smile appeared on Chaeyoung's face.
Tired. Brief. But real.
And for some reason, that tiny expression felt far more intimate than it should have.
Mina looked away first.
The river suddenly seemed very interesting.
After a moment, she spoke again, more gently this time.
"Jeongyeon. Was she part of it?"
The smile disappeared.
Chaeyoung's fingers tightened once around the railing.
When she answered, her voice was so quiet Mina almost missed it.
"Yes."
There was nothing dramatic in the word.
That made it worse.
Mina waited, but Chaeyoung didn't add anything else.
Behind them, Jihyo was calling everyone back to the blanket before the food disappeared completely. Momo shouted something about territorial rights. Sana accused her of stealing drinks she'd never paid for. Dahyun told them both to sit down before Jihyo snapped.
The normalcy of it all felt strange.
Mina didn't move.
Neither did Chaeyoung.
Then, without looking at her, Chaeyoung said, "Thanks."
Mina blinked.
"For what?"
"For earlier."
The words were quiet. Almost reluctant.
But sincere.
She smiled before she could stop herself.
"You're welcome."
Chaeyoung pushed away from the railing.
"Don't make a big deal out of it."
"I wasn't going to."
"You were thinking about it."
Mina laughed.
"You're very easy to read too, apparently."
Chaeyoung glanced sideways at her as they started walking back.
"That's slander."
"No," Mina said. "That's honest."
This time, when Chaeyoung laughed, it sounded a little more alive.
And Mina hated how much she liked that.
By the time the sun started sinking lower, the riverbank had changed colour completely.
Everything was softer now. Gold instead of white. Warm instead of bright.
The group had settled into a looser rhythm by then. Jihyo packed things away in stages because she knew nobody else would. Momo stretched out in the grass and pretended not to be listening to anyone. Tzuyu sorted through the photos she'd taken. Sana and Dahyun had ended up shoulder to shoulder again, heads bent close over something on Dahyun's phone.
Nayeon stayed easy. Polite. Calm.
Too calm.
That put Mina on edge more than if she'd been sharp.
And every time Mina caught herself watching her — the line of her posture, the way she smiled without showing all of it, the ridiculous ease with which people made space for her — she felt the same tiny flicker of interest followed immediately by annoyance at herself for noticing it at all.
By the time everyone finally started gathering their bags, Mina felt full but empty at the same time.
Full from the food.
Empty from everything she still didn't understand.
As they began walking back toward the station, she glanced once over her shoulder.
Chaeyoung was still there, standing by the railing for half a second longer than everyone else, sketchbook hanging loose in one hand.
The river moved below her, gold and indifferent.
Then she turned and followed.
And for some reason, that was enough to make Mina feel relieved