Archive of Our Own ^beta

She’s at a dance club deep in Barcelona that a few Americans from the hostel had dragged her to. She’s spent the last couple days hanging out with them and exploring. Some would call her stupid for trusting so easily but she knows she’s not in any danger with them. While all three clearly want to bring her home tonight, they haven't been pushy and overall seem respectful, so she feels mostly safe with them. Certainly safer with them than without, she considers, as all the eyes in the club seem to follow her. It had taken her a while to figure out how to navigate being a young, admittedly pretty, twenty-three-year-old woman traveling alone. But she’s a good judge of character for the most part so she always finds friends at the hostels she’s staying at and sticks to them. These guys had been happy enough to follow her around the last couple of days. She won’t sleep with them, but she will take their protection if she can.

She’s three drinks in, drunk enough to let one of them sling his arm across her shoulder and get too close while talking to her. She’ll be unhappy if he tries to kiss her, but she likes the contact. It’s comforting and Sana has always enjoyed being close to people. She’s not sure what the hell he is shouting at her over the music. Doesn’t really care. She’s just here to dance, alcohol in her veins, and just on the right side of too hot. It’s overstimulating in a good way.

At some point (she’s completely lost track of time and anything else past the way the bass booms through her chest) something catches her ear. She isn’t sure what it is at first. There are so many sounds surrounding her, the Americans yelling, a group of plastered girls next to them scream-shouting along with the music, the music itself, loud enough that Sana can feel it traveling through her bones. She’s sure she heard something. But after a few seconds she is unable to place it, and she just sinks back into all the sensations surrounding her.

A few seconds later she hears it again and this time she understands why it caught her ear. It’s louder this time, clearer. A girl, distressed, upset. Normally the sound might have blended into the background, but Sana has been attuned to hearing Japanese her entire life, her ears can pick up on it better than any other sounds. She turns her head quickly to find the source and locates her a few feet away. The girl’s wrist is completely obscured by a large hand that is gripping too hard to be friendly. She’s pushing against the guy’s fingers to no avail. He clearly doesn’t understand the Japanese that she’s shouting at him, but also clearly would not have cared if he had.

Sana moves quickly, dragging one of the American guys with her. He’s confused, audibly so as he asks where they’re going, but he lets himself be dragged along. Good. She needs a guy at her back for what she’s about to do. She walks up, moving quickly and shoves the guy away from the Japanese girl he's harrassing, surprising him enough that he lets go of her wrist. In the same move, Sana steps back and pulls the girl against her by her waist. The girl’s arms go around Sana’s shoulders immediately, trembling against her. The asshole makes to lunge at Sana but then there’s a hand on his chest stopping him. He stumbles back and his eye widen.

Sana’s American has a baby face for his age but he’s tall and there are clear lines along his arms and under his tight t-shirt betraying well-developed muscles. The asshole seems to consider for a second and then steps back, hands up in front of him as if to say, ‘you win this one’. Sana looks at her friend and says, ‘thank you’ and stands up on her tiptoes to press a grateful kiss to his cheek. He grins at her widely. She hopes he doesn’t read too much into it.

“Are you alright?” he shouts in English, eyes on the girl they had saved.

The girl is now clinging to Sana, clearly terrified and out of her depth. She looks up at him with wide, nervous eyes.

“Are you okay?” she repeats in Japanese, and immediately feels the girl relax into her arms as she turns to face her.

“Yes,” she says, only just loud enough to be caught over the music. “Thank you!”

“Of course!” Sana says. “Are you alone? Do you want to dance with us?”

Momo looks at the American again and seems unsure but then looks at Sana and her face splits into a grin. She nods and Sana smiles back.

“What’s your name?” Sana asks.

“Momo,” the girl answers.

A peach. It suits her somehow. They’ll have fun together tonight, Sana thinks. She leads Momo back to the other two Americans she’d been dancing with. One of them has managed to find a Spanish girl to dance with who seems to be doing her best not to laugh as he tries to do his best imitation of salsa with her. They’ll end up sleeping together, Sana thinks, because the girl doesn’t seem at all off-put by the way his limbs are moving. Sana shoots him a thumbs up over the girl’s shoulder that makes him laugh.

There’s now two guys and two girls and if the boys got their way, Sana would probably dance with one while Momo dances with the other. They’ll be disappointed, Sana knows, when Momo slides in place behind her and starts to move. She dances well and Sana is pleased. She’s tired of people who can’t dance. She should probably stop picking Australians and Americans and Brits as her companions, but English is still the only western language she knows. But here is Momo – Japanese and a hell of a dancer. Pretty as all get out too, Sana thinks as she turns to face her, her leg wedging between Momo’s as they move together. Despite only meeting five minutes ago, she is Sana’s favorite travel companion so far.

The guys do their best to dance with them but it quickly becomes clear that there isn’t space for them in the little bubble that the girls have built for themselves. Sana loses track of them, but she doesn’t really mind. Somewhere along the way, her hands find their place intertwined behind Momo’s neck while Momo’s hands are traveling dangerously low on her hips. Sana wants to get closer, closer to Momo. The alcohol is enhancing everything, but Sana knows attraction when she feels it. Would Momo pull away if Sana tried to kiss her?

There is a chance Momo would turn her down. Sana could handle that but she’s not sure if she could handle it if Momo had certain prejudices. It’s not uncommon in Japan though less so among young people. Is Sana willing to risk a very good potential friend for the night?

Testing the water, she adjusts her hands to cup Momo’s neck and play with the hair at the nape of her neck. Momo just pulls her closer by the waist. Sana runs her thumbs along Momo’s jawline. Momo just tilts her head a little to make the angle better for her. Sana leans closer so that their chests are pressing together and their cheeks brush against each other just slightly. She hears a stutter in Momo’s breath. A bad stutter? No, probably not as Momo’s hands slip from Sana’s waist to the small of her back and then up along her spine until her fingertips can dip under the edges of Sana’s crop top.

Not confirmation exactly but certainly a strong hint. It’s enough for Sana. She turns her head slowly and when she feels Momo do the same, her heart starts to race. Their lips slip together gently, perfectly. She tastes good. Whatever alcohol she had been drinking earlier is sweet and tangy against Sana’s tongue. She hopes the mojitos she had also taste good to Momo. The other girl certainly doesn’t seem to mind as she responds to Sana enthusiastically.

Their temporary bliss is broken by some wolf-whistles that don’t sound particularly positive. More predatory than anything else. Sana feels her skin crawl.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Momo asks, looking around a little apprehensively.

Her eyes catch with some guy who makes an obscene gesture in her direction and starts to make his way over. Sana tugs at Momo’s wrist to drag her through the crowd.

“Let’s go,” she says.

They burst out the club into the summer warm Spanish air, Momo’s clutching at Sana’s hand with one of her own, her free hand wrapping around that same arm to hold her close.

“Where are you staying?” Momo asks.

“A hostel.”

“I have a hotel room,” Momo says. “Do you want to come?”

The invitation is clear. Sana agrees immediately.

She has a text message from each of the Americans the next morning asking if she’s okay. The tall one who had helped her save Momo the night before has sent five and including one saying that if he doesn’t hear from her by 9am he's going to report her as missing. She checks the time and sees that she has fifteen minutes to spare and sends them all texts letting them know she’s okay and apologizing profusely for disappearing on them. The tall one sends her a gif of a cute bear breathing a sigh of relief and it makes her laugh a little. They’ve been good companions in her time in Barcelona. She’ll probably buy them all little trinkets before she leaves as a thank you for spending time with her.

Her giggles seem to rouse the girl next to her who shifts slightly under the sheets. Sana wonders if she’s supposed to leave before she fully wakes. That’s how one-night stands usually go. Except Sana doesn’t want this to be just a one and done. Maybe it’s because she’s starting to really miss home or maybe it’s because something about Momo makes her feel magnetized, but she wants Momo to want her to stay. It’s a weird feeling.

Sana hasn’t thought more than a day ahead of time since she started traveling. Now she’s already wondering how long Momo is planning on staying in Spain. Sana thinks she’ll stick around for a few days longer if Momo is staying as well. She’s getting well ahead of herself, hasn’t even had a real conversation with her past asking what she wanted Sana to do with her fingers the night before. But if Momo wants her to stick around, she knows she will.

“Morning,” Momo mumbles.

The night before she had been all dangerously sexy and gorgeous with her tight-fitting clothes and her winged eyeliner. This morning she’s mostly just cute as her eyes struggle to stay open and her cheeks puff out in a sleepy pout. Her smudged makeup makes her look like a raccoon. Sana wants to kiss her. Does exactly that, pecking her lips gently. Momo gives her a small smile in return.

“Do you want to get breakfast?”

Momo’s eyes open immediately and she smiles widely.

“There’s a cafe across the street I wanted to try."

“Okay,” Sana says, and then looks down at her own very naked body and then at the clothes that were strewn across the floor. The scraps of fabric she’d worn the night before barely count as clothes. They were appropriate for the club and not much else. Certainly not a cafe at 9 in the morning. “Can I… can I borrow clothes?”

It’s a big ask of a stranger. They don’t know anything about each other. For all Momo knows, Sana could just run off with the clothes never to be seen again. But Momo doesn’t hesitate to throw a cute pair of jeans shorts and a loose t-shirt at Sana. She even hands her a pair of flip-flops that Sana can wear instead of her heels. There’s a still-wrapped toothbrush in the bathroom courtesy of the hotel that Momo hands her as well. She brushes her own teeth with her electric toothbrush next to Sana, accidentally bumping elbows with her. It’s very comfortable. 

They order an omelet, bread, and pancakes and split all three.

Maybe it’s the fact that they’d slept with each other within a couple hours of meeting, or maybe it’s the fact that they are in very similar situations or maybe it’s just that they’ve both been itching for someone to talk to, but they dive into the real stuff immediately.

“I wanted to be an idol,” Momo says softly as she sips her coffee. “I gave my whole childhood to them, but they said I wasn’t good enough in the end. When it didn’t work out, I just needed to get away. Find out who I am if I’m not that, I guess.”

“My parents have high expectations,” Sana shares in return because it only seems fair. And maybe she’s been waiting for someone to tell. “Too high. I felt like I was getting crushed. I took what I had and ran. I’ll go back, eventually. Once I’ve had the freedom I need, I’ll go back, but I’ll do it on my own terms.”

“Where are you headed next?” Momo asks.

“Where the wind takes me,” Sana says with a cheeky grin.

“When do you leave?”

“Whenever I want to.”

Momo’s eyes glitter in the morning sun and Sana’s breath catches with how beautiful she is.

“Can I come with?”

Sana’s travels have been fun but there was always an undercurrent of worry, of caution. It’s better with Momo. They save money by splitting hotel rooms and beds at hostels and there’s safety in numbers. And Sana gets to hear the comforting sound of her own language in her ear. Same accent too. On the train to France, Momo tells her that she grew up only about an hour away from where Sana lived. It tickles Sana absolutely silly that they’d lived so close their whole lives, but they end up meeting in a dance club thousands of miles away. Momo watches her with an amused smile while she laughs.

Montpellier is lovely. Momo is gorgeous in a bikini under the bright Mediterranean sun. And she laughs freely, happily as Sana splashes her. They dance on the beach together at night, licking French wine from each other’s mouths. In Lyon there's walks along the river, hand in hand, sneaking kisses under lamplights and Momo’s soft lips on her cheek as they take selfies in front of brightly colored houses. Geneva has Momo clutching at Sana’s hand as they speed around the lake in a tour boat, Momo screaming at every bump and jostle and Sana laughing at her friend’s distress. When they get off the boat, Momo’s are legs shaky. She curses Sana for making her ride it and Sana treats her to waffles as an apology. Momo forgives her immediately.

The first place they stay more than a couple of days is Paris. There’s just too much to see. Too many landmarks to visit. Sana’s phone is shouting at her for the number of photos she’s saving, and she has to buy extra storage space to fit them all. Mixed in with selfies on the Seine and shots of the Eiffel Tower are a frankly concerning number of photos of Momo. Concerning because she’s supposed to just be a travel buddy. Their lines are only meant to intersect briefly. They aren’t intertwined by any stretch of the imagination. But there are photos on Sana’s phone as if she desperately wants to remember her.

The food in France is enough to make Momo want to stay one extra day so that they can try some more. She drags Sana through an evening market, pointing at every food stall she sees, and Sana takes pictures of her as she stuffs her face with a steaming crepe. She gets powdered sugar on her nose and Sana brushes it away with her thumb. When she gets chocolate sauce on her lower lip, well, nothing has ever tasted sweeter.

The bed in the cheap hotel they rented is uncomfortable at best, but it doesn’t matter because they don’t sleep much that night. The two-hour train ride to Brussels is not nearly enough time to catch up on sleep but it doesn’t matter. If they go to the hotel and just sleep through the rest of the afternoon, that’s no one’s business but their own.

In Amsterdam, they meet a couple of Korean girls at the hostel they stay at. Momo learned Korean while she was a trainee and Sana is fluent in four languages because ‘it’s good for business’. She’d learned all of them with a ruler to the back of the hand. Jihyo laughs at her, telling her that her tone is too formal. Sana challenges her to help her and Jihyo proceeds to teach her every curse word she can think of while Jeongyeon and Momo laugh uproariously.

They’re fun and they tag along with Sana and Momo the whole time they’re in Amsterdam but they’re just there for vacation. They aren’t running like Sana and Momo are so after three days are up, they part ways. Then it’s into Germany. First Cologne, where Momo eats so many sausages that she has to curl up in bed while Sana pats her hair soothingly. She apologizes to Sana over and over for making her take care of her, and Sana doesn’t know how to explain that she doesn’t mind. That she’ll take care of Momo no matter what else she could be doing. That just being with her, cradling her against her chest as she sleeps off her stomachache, makes her happier than anything else could.

At the hostel in Berlin, they meet three Australian girls. Momo can’t quite communicate with them, but it doesn’t seem to matter to anyone there. Jennie, Lisa, and Rose are proper fun, and during the week they spend together they drag Sana and Momo out to some of the best night life Sana has ever experienced. They’re wonderful, really.

They’re also gorgeous. With Rose and Jennie, Sana just notes this fact with detached interest. But with Lisa… with Lisa, gorgeous, long-legged Lisa, Lisa who dances well enough to keep up with former idol trainee Hirai Momo. Sana notices how pretty she is. She notices it particularly when Lisa is dancing with Momo, their bodies moving fluidly against each other, pressed up against each other in far too many places for Sana’s taste. Rose and Jennie, cheer, egging them on. Sana cheers too, but there’s something under it. Jealousy, she reluctantly labels it as.

Momo never really gives her reason to doubt, the dancing with Lisa very clearly just fun. Still, that night, Sana sucks and bites at Momo’s neck until it’s a tapestry of bruises. The next morning, Jennie, Lisa, and Rose, tease Momo non-stop as she glares at Sana. It’s silly. She never had anything to worry about. Never had any claim either. But she still feels proud of the marks, proud that Momo wears them without too much complaint as if to say, yeah, I am yours. That night, Momo returns the favor in spades, though she at least has the decency to put all of her marks somewhere Sana can easily cover.

“How much money do you have left?” Momo asks Sana.

“Enough,” Sana says, her usual answer. “You?”

“I’m okay too,” Momo says.

They don’t really talk about it, but both of their trips are not limited by their desire to travel (they both want to see as much as they can), or by time (there’s always more time to run away from the real world) but by money. Once they run out, they need to go home, back to their families and the lives they’re running from. So they check in with each other every few days. Do you still have enough to keep going? To move to the next country? So far, the answer has always been yes. 

Sana has been trying not to think about the future the whole time she’s been traveling. That was the whole point, avoiding her future, avoiding what was waiting for her back at home. The rest of her life. It’s not that she hates the job that her parents have lined up for her. She knows, at the very least, that she’ll be good at it. But it wasn’t her choice and after the realization that nothing in her life had been her choice, she’d needed some time to make some decisions of her own. She’ll go back. She’ll be a good daughter and do what her parents want. She won’t let the family company suffer just because she wants a little freedom. But for now, she just wants to live in the present.

Until she met Momo, it was easy. She’d worry about where her next meal was coming from, where she’d lay her head for that night. But the future? The actual distant future was always far from her mind. With Momo it’s hard because she is starting to think about the future more and more. Especially in moments like these as Momo sleeps on her shoulder on the train to Prague. She fits perfectly into Sana’s side in a way that no one has before. The last month that they’ve spent together has been the highlight not only of Sana’s trip but of her whole life and Momo is more than half the reason.

For once, Sana’s thoughts of the future are not about her life back in Japan. They’re about what will happen when she or Momo run out of money. She’s not sure who it will happen to first. But in some ways it doesn’t matter. The result will be the same. Sana will have to go back to living without her. Whether it’s back in Japan or here in Europe she doesn’t think it’ll make a difference. It’ll be devastating either way. She holds Momo against her a little more closely as she snores quietly.

Prague is amazing. The architecture leaves Sana breathless and she takes photos of every single thing that catches her eye. Only half the photos are of the buildings. The other half are of Momo, who grows impossibly more beautiful in Sana’s eyes every single day they spend together. She shows no sign of the bittersweet feelings that well up in Sana’s chest every time they kiss. Maybe she isn’t feeling the same as Sana. Maybe she’s just better at staying in the present. Sana doesn’t want to know which.

Vienna is where Sana starts to worry about money. When Momo asks, her answer is still ‘enough’, but she knows that won’t be true for much longer. After checking her bank account, she steers Momo to Venice. She doesn’t want to miss the city on the water or Rome and she’s not sure her funds can stretch over more than those two.

In Venice, Sana promises herself to not think about anything except where they are. In Rome, it’ll probably be the last stop before goodbye. But here, she can pretend that they still have forever. And Venice is a wonderful place to be in love. It’s here that Sana allows herself to admit it. That she is in love with Momo. It’s the first time she’s ever felt this way about anyone and in Venice, as romantic a place as it gets, it only makes her feel more alive. The sun seems brighter as they walk through the narrow streets, dipping into clothing shops and modeling random outfits for each other, making out in the changing rooms. The water seems clearer, prettier, as they cuddle up against each other in a gondola, fingers intertwined tightly. The night sky is dotted with twinkling starts as they wander through city square hand in hand.

Momo looks like an angel with a mask strapped across her face, but she has a devilish smile as she whispers things in Sana’s ear that make her drag her back to the hotel. She kisses Sana deeply against the door as soon as they’re over the threshold. Sana carefully peels off her clothes and does her best to tell her without words that she is loved, adored by Sana. Momo may or may not understand but she reciprocates every one of Sana’s gestures so thoroughly that Sana is crying. She kisses each of Sana’s tears away.

“I like traveling with you,” Momo says later, half asleep against Sana’s bare chest.

It sounds like a confession. A little bit like a promise, but that’s a scary thought. Sana’s not sure what kinds of promises she can keep, but it makes her heart race regardless. She presses a kiss to Momo’s lips and then to her forehead as she whispers back.

“Traveling with you is best thing I’ve ever done.”

The next morning, when they’re wrapped up in the blankets and each other, starting to plan their next move, Momo asks again.

“How much money do you have left?”

For the first time Sana’s answer changes.

“I can do one more city,” she says, voice trembling. “I was thinking Rome?”

Momo freezes against her, breath catching in her throat. Sana tries to read her expression. It’s not happy, for sure. Disappointed? It’s hard to tell. She hasn’t had to see too many of negative emotions on Momo’s face yet and while she can read happiness and excitement and sleepiness on Momo’s face like a book, this expression is foreign to her.

“Momo?” she asks.

“Okay,” Momo says, voice cracking a little. “Okay. One more city then. Rome sounds nice.”

Sana nods and burrows her face into Momo’s neck to hide her tears. Momo must feel them on her skin, but she doesn’t comment. She just squeezes Sana against her more tightly. After that, she doesn’t let go, at least not more than she absolutely has to. She holds onto Sana’s hand tightly as they walk together to the train station, leans against her side on the train ride to Rome, and when they get there, late, late at night, she hops into the shower with Sana for no reason other than to be close to her. They sleep together, cuddled against each other so tightly they may as well be one person, every inch possible pressing together, legs tangled.

When they wake, Sana has half a mind to just stay in this hotel room with her for their last few days. Hold Momo tight and not let go until the last possible second. But she won’t deny Momo, or herself, the experience of Rome. It’s all a little more subdued but they still laugh as Momo eats a pizza and the cheese keeps on stretching as she pulls the slice away. They eat pasta at night, sharing a noddle like lady and the tramp and Sana is grateful they’re in a secluded corner of the restaurant when the kiss they share goes on for a second too long. They find a gay club to go dancing and they make friends with a couple of Italian twinks who compliment them until they’re red in the face and laughing. They are fantastic dancers too and they don’t get offended when Sana and Momo get too wrapped up in each other.

They visit art museums during the day, gawking at paintings they’d only seen in movies and Momo mimicking some of the poses of the statues for the photos Sana takes. She can’t help but think about how each of those photos will soon be the only thing she has of Momo to hold on to. She does her best to smile when Momo asks to see. She still clings to Sana at every chance and Sana is glad for it. She clings right back.

Four days is all Sana can manage financially. She has her flight back to Japan booked and ready. It feels like a death sentence but not because she’s afraid to return home. When she thinks about it, she’s happy with her travels. Sated of her need for freedom. She can go back and happily do what she needs to do for her family. If not for Momo she might have gotten tired of it all long ago. She misses her friends and her parents despite their pressures on her.

No, the only thing holding her back is Momo. Wonderful, beautiful, perfect Momo. Sana wants to call her the love of her life but that’s not… that can’t be true because it’s ending. She needs to believe that she’ll be able to love someone else like this one day. Tomorrow she’ll be on a flight home and Momo will be continuing to Naples and there’s no guarantee of anything after that. That night, they’re both quieter than they’ve been the entire time they’ve known each other. It’s not that Sana doesn’t have anything to say. It’s the opposite really. She has too much to say and no clue as to whether or not she should say it. But as Momo gasps and moans under her, she realizes that she can’t not. There’s nothing to lose. Tomorrow they’ll be parting ways regardless, so Sana decides to be honest.

“I love you, Momoring,” she whispers into Momo’s ear as Momo clutches at her shoulders. “I really, really love you.”

Momo only gasps in response but that’s entirely Sana’s fault. Afterwards, Momo cups Sana’s cheeks and looks into her face, expression wide and open and wondering.

“I love you too,” she says. “I love you… so much.”

Sana wants to ask Momo to come back home with her. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she knows that she won’t ask it. Can’t ask it. Because Momo is still running. Sana can see it in the way she gets restless every time Japan is mentioned. Unlike Sana she hasn’t settled, hasn’t had her fill, isn’t ready for the next steps. Sana is afraid that, if she asks, Momo will follow her back without being fully ready. Sana won’t take that from her.

“I wish,” Sana says instead. “I wish we had more time.”

“Me too,” Momo whimpers as she starts to cry.

They hold each other and don’t sleep that night. They just make the most of every second they have together. Every single second because Momo accompanies Sana to the airport the next day though she absolutely does not have to. It’s out of the way and the cab they take there is certainly overpriced. But she walks with Sana until they’re in front of security.

“If you’re ever back in Japan,” Sana says. “This is my local phone number. You’re always welcome to find me.”

She doesn’t ask for them to keep in contact past that. She isn’t sure how Momo feels but she knows that without a guarantee of seeing Momo again, she needs a clean break. If she’s going to move on, she needs to be able to treat Momo as just a fling even if that’s miles away from how her heart actually feels. Momo takes the piece of paper that Sana hands her and slips it into her wallet carefully, tucking it between a photo of her sister and another one of her parents. It’s probably the safest place it could be. Sana feels relieved at the gesture. Maybe one day, when the time is right, Momo will find her again.

Momo doesn’t promise her anything. Sana knows she can’t. But Momo does pull her into an absolutely searing kiss. It’s the kind you see in movies, and Sana feels every ounce of emotion she’s trying to convey. It makes her tear up and she tastes salt. It isn’t until after they pull away that she realizes she’s tasting Momo’s tears as well.

“Get home safe,” Momo says.

“You too,” Sana replies, though she knows Momo’s path home will be much longer.

Leaving Momo in the airport feels like leaving her heart behind as well but there’s nothing else that can be done. They were never destined to last. It was always meant to end. Sana knew that from the beginning. She just can’t believe the time has come.

On the plane, Sana cries herself to sleep.

Her office is starting to feel like home, she notes with joy. The view has always been fantastic but with the addition of a few of her photos from her travels blown up and framed on the walls and the many souvenirs she collected scattered across shelves it’s starting to feel a little less sterile. The office chairs, a warm purple, had been a gift from her parents upon her return. They’d been overjoyed. She’d sent them small updates as she’d travelled just to let them know she was alive, but she knew that they worried. She thought they would have been angrier after she left without saying goodbye, but her mother had hugged her tightly and just said, ‘welcome home’.

They’d given her a little time, three weeks to get herself settled, before asking her if she was ready to start work. She was. She missed it if she was being honest. And despite feeling a little like it's not her choice, she has come to terms with eventually being CEO of the company. Of course, she wouldn’t go there right away. No one would have accepted a twenty-three-year-old female CEO no matter her lineage and perfect GPA. But she gets a good position, one that, if she does a good job will get her to the position her parents expect of her within ten years.

It’s been a weird transition, going from the freedom of traveling to the constant pressure of work and people needing things from her. But she finds she doesn’t mind it. The hustle and bustle of the job is enough to keep her occupied and not think too much. Being with her friends again helps too. Mina especially, though she had some choice words for Sana as soon as she got back. Sana has to admit that maybe not letting her best friend know that she was leaving until she was about to board the plane to London was a bit of a mistake.

Mina had been furious. And she had let Sana know as much but had, in the same breath, invited her over to hang out and show off pictures of the trip. Sana doesn’t show all of them though. The photos of Momo are saved in a separate album, one that Sana keeps for herself. She’ll tell Mina about her eventually. But right now, everything feels a little too raw and she’s not sure that she could explain it all well enough. She hasn’t processed it particularly well, is avoiding doing so, but she will when the time comes.

Part of her hopes that Momo will just text her one day. She has her number after all. Once she’s back, she could. But it’s been a few months and Sana hasn’t heard anything. While she had never known exactly the amount of money that Momo had, she’s pretty sure that it wouldn’t have been enough to last this long so Momo should have gotten back to Japan by now. She worries that maybe something happened. But she thinks it’s far more likely that Momo has decided to just move on.

That’s fine. Sana has as well. She’s at peace with where they left things. Is she dating other people? No. Does she want to? No. Does she sometimes look at the photo album marked only with the peach emoji and feel like crying? Maybe. But she is moving on. Bit by bit.

“The office really has come together,” Mina says, when she shows up for their lunch date. “I love that photo best.”

It’s of the evening sky in Venice, the setting sun making the water sparkle like gold. It was their last night there. Momo had kissed her on the bridge where the photo was taken. Sana smiles at the memory.

“Yeah,” she says. “Venice was beautiful.”

“We should go together one day.”

Sana agrees but she knows it won’t be the same. Part of what had made Venice so beautiful was the fact that she’d been in love. Well, no matter, it’ll still be fun with Mina.

“Miss Minatozaki?”

Sana’s secretary’s voice crackles over the intercom. It’s weird having a secretary, especially one who is ten years older than her. She keeps trying to get her to call her Sana, but the woman refuses. Ah, well, not much that can be done.

“Yes?”

“There’s someone here to see you. They don’t have an appointment, but they keep insisting. Should I ask security to escort them out?”

Mina looks at Sana with raised eyebrows and Sana just answers with a shrug.

“Um, did they say who they are?”

“The name she gave is Hirai Momo.”

As soon as the name registers, Sana drops her pen. The sound of her pounding heart drowns out Mina’s confused question. Sana just stares at the intercom on her desk. It could be a dream, though Sana hasn’t had a dream this realistic in a while. But it has to be right? Sana had given up hope. This can’t be-

“Sana!”

Mina’s sharp tone pulls her back down to earth. She looks at her normally mild-mannered friend in surprise. Mina immediately blushes.

“Sorry,” she says. “You were zoned out.”

Sana clears her throat.

“Uh, yeah,” she says. “Right.”

“Who is Hirai Momo?” Mina asks. “Do you know her?”

Sana nods slowly but doesn’t expand. She doesn’t have enough time right now to get into everything that Momo is to her.

“Miss Minatozaki?”

Her secretary sounds concerned and confused. Sana owes her an answer. A simple ‘let her in’ would do but why can’t Sana get the words out. For some reason, she’s terrified.

“Who is she?” Mina asks, a little more gently.

“She’s… just someone I know.”

How does she explain their relationship? How they were never simply friends, but how they never really dated either? How despite never making promises, she has loved Momo more than anyone else, more than she could fathom loving someone?

“I’m sorry, Mina,” she says instead. “I need to take this. Raincheck on lunch?”

“Sure,” Mina says, easily rising from her chair. “On the condition that you tell me who this person is when we do end up grabbing lunch.”

“Deal,” Sana says.

Mina goes to leave and then hesitates by the door.

“Are you okay, Satang?”

Sana isn’t sure, but she nods to reassure her friend. Mina nods once and then walks out. Sana takes a deep, steadying breath and then holds down the button for the intercom.

“Let her in.”