[eighteen weeks before]

She wasn't okay. As in any plot, things got better before they got worse. And her life had taken a plunge into the deep end again. She supposed it was her fault for placing so much faith in him, but she'd thought it would've been okay.

She had texted him in the middle of the night, requesting a meet up because she was feeling particularly bad about her family issues at the moment. He'd never responded and she'd grown despondent. She assumed that because of how close they'd gotten, he would have at least responded immediately.

How wrong she was.

It was now the day after, her inbox only containing a single, unread message from him. Dark circles showed faintly from underneath her sparsely placed makeup, the only evidence of a sleepless night.

"Hey, M, wait up!" It was his voice. She'd know it anywhere. Rather than waiting as requested, she faked having missed Bayu because of her earbuds which weren't playing anything in her ears. She let herself get lost in smiling for her acquaintances and laughing at things that were supposed to be funny that she hadn't actually heard.

Halfway through the blurry day, Pax tapped her shoulder during lunch. "I think Bayu's been looking for you. Anything you need me to say?" She relaxed at Pax's familiarly soft features. One of the few who could and would help at any chance they got.

"Don't tell him where I am. I need some time to myself." She returned to her chess game, furrowing her brows and moving a piece. Her opponent retaliated in a matter of minutes.

"Okay, will do. Feel better, okay?" Pax gave her a side hug and when she left, there was a warm, person-shaped hole instead.

"Checkmate," the boy muttered, already packing his books. "Good game, you should play more." She nodded in thanks, but stayed put, not wanting to talk any longer. She flipped through her homework, reviewing test material and checking her work.

Too soon, the librarian approached her. "Dear, the bell will ring soon, so I'd put your things away and get going right away." She bobbed her head once to show that she understood. Slowly, she folded the chess board and carefully laid the pieces back into the box. After putting that away, she gathered her own things into her backpack, waiting for the bell.

Smile, she reminded herself. Look at how happy they are. Look how happy you make them. Give them the chance to stay that way by seeming that way for them.

You make them happy.

Properly motivated, she stalked down the hall, briskly waving at every person she knew. Let them think that she loved life.

The rest of her classes flashed by, possibly because of her determination to enjoy them. She was one of the last students to leave the building for the day, the others spread out in the courtyard and parking lot. She let herself been seen relishing the cold flakes drifting into her hair. Let them see her pick up snow with both hands and throw it into the air, giggling. Let them think she loved it. A part of her did, but that part of her was now so small that it was almost nonexistent.

"You," he declared breathlessly. "For all your popularity, you can make yourself invisible when you really want to be." The heavy hand on her shoulder startled her, making her fall back into the snow. A second of pure fear darted through her before she remembered where she was and who she was and threw her head back in joy.

Something flitted over his face, nothing like the usually cheerful Bayu, as though he suspected something was wrong. It faded at the expectant look on her face.

"I, uh," he stammered. "Were you avoiding me?" He reached a hand to her, an offer to help her stand. She ignored it, pushing herself up and pretended like the snow seeping into her bones wasn't frightfully cold. He awkwardly retracted his hand, letting it hang at his side.

"What makes you think that?" She tried for a pleasant smile. Oh please, oh please, don't let her feelings bleed through.

"I read your texts," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"It's nothing," she laughed it off. "I'm fine now, I should've respected your sleep. It's my fault." He opened his mouth to argue.

She didn't let him. "Anyhow, it's cold and I need to get going if I want to get home before it gets colder. I'll see you next week."

This time, she really played her music and let the colors and the sound drown out any other noise until she got home.

Instead of an empty house, somebody else was there. It wasn't her father; she would've seen his car. There was a pretty Asian lady humming in the kitchen, someone she'd never seen before.

"Who are you?" She demanded, tossing her bag to the side. "How did you get in here?"

Rather than answering the question, the lady held up a pan. "Want a cookie? They just came out of the oven." True to her word, there was heat rising from the pan, a delicious smell invading her senses.

Suspiciously, she snatched a cookie and trailed the lady's every movement with her eyes. "Who are you?"

"If you do not know who I am, then your father has failed you in that aspect," she pursed her lips. "I am your father's cousin, or better known as Sleep-Deprived Beauty in our family because I never sleep enough."

"You can't be his cousin. Father said there were no relatives to speak of." She wanted to be hostile, but the sweetness of the cookie melted her heart enough to resolve against it.

"Then he is a coward and a shame on our family," the lady spoke darkly to herself. To Miki, she brightened her tone. "I am Aiko, and you are now under my care until your father feels that I am innocuous enough to risk returning home because he is afraid of my wrath. So I doubt that will happen any time soon. Enjoy this freedom while you can."

"I'm used to his absence," she scoffed. "It's better, I guess, to have you here. I hope you have something to do, because I'm not very good company."

"Then I will make you good company for me. I'll call you for dinner." At the obvious dismissal, she ascended to her room, completely confused by what had just occurred.

She didn't know whether to stay hung up on her feelings from the night before or ponder what was now happening under her roof. She decided to plan out what she would do in the following school days, because she didn't want to begin to trust anyone again like she had started with Bayu.

This planning went on until her stomach drew her out back into the kitchen, where something savory was being cooked.

Aiko chuckled at her ravenous expression. "Nobody cook for you before?" Her mood darkened a bit at that.

"Not in a long time." She set the table as a courtesy and sat after Aiko took her seat. As they delved in, a series of inquiries came spewing out of Aiko.

"How old are you? What grade are you in? Who do you like to listen to? What are your friends like? How have you been doing? I haven't heard of or from your father in years!"

She almost choked. "My father says you all don't exist, so I can't answer that. And can I finish first?" Aiko pouted, but consented, her own food quickly disappearing.

"Come, we'll talk in the living room together for a long time with tea." Aiko put away the dishes and silverware and brandished mugs with already brewed tea.

Stunned, she followed her cousin into the barely used living room, the pair settling into the couch. Their conversation was like this:

"How old are you now?"

"I'm seventeen, turning eighteen in the summer."

"You're beautiful, what's your skin-care routine like?"

"Thanks? I don't really have one."

"What does your father do?"

"I don't really know."

They bounced between topics and questions, each more random than the last. She wasn't sure how to talk to this strange woman, so honesty became her first choice. That was to say, she left out details she felt were unnecessary. Slowly, she warmed to her cousin, showing a more genuine version of who she was at school.

"I just feel like it's gotten—" she blinked in confusion. She'd been about to spill her guts to some cousin she hadn't even known existed until an hour or two ago. What had become of leaving out the details? Aiko saw her bafflement and she looked oddly satisfied.

"I never told you what I do for a living, did I?" The woman smiled wryly, tucking her feet underneath her. Miki waited, stone faced, for the explanation.

Aiko laughed, a beautiful, silvery sound. "I am a psychologist in Japan. A therapist, to be exact. I talk to people who have lost familial connections or deal with mental issues. Over the time I've been in my office, I've picked up a trick or two." Almost as though it were to herself, she added, "I knew something wasn't right."

"So all that was to get me to let something loose?" Miki narrowed her eyes. She had to admit, "You're pretty smart to see through all that."

"Not smart," Aiko denied. "Just observant. In Korean, I think you call it nun-chi(1). Having the sense? Or maybe it is being observant, I don't know."

"So like a sixth sense?" Miki traced her thumb along the brim of her mug thoughtfully. If only she could have that; then she would understand how to live to love.

"Hmm," her cousin hummed. "I would not say that. I think it is like E.Q. to I.Q. maybe. Anyway, there is something else on your mind besides your father, no?"

"My father?" She repeated. "Who said anything about him?"

"As if you could fool me," Aiko scowled. "That man has been way too harsh on you and himself. Cutting ties from us? I could name quite a few relatives who would like to...how do you Americans say it? Kick his ass."

Miki let out a bark of laughter. "I would believe that. I'd do that too, if I wasn't so determined to ignore him."

She waved it away. "That is not what we want to discuss, though. What plagues you?"

"There's a boy," she sighed reluctantly. "I thought...never mind." 'You'll be leaving too anyway,' she acknowledged in her mind. No sense in confessing her woes only to have her heart broken again.

"Okay," Aiko conceded sadly. Her eyes flickered to the window and back to Miki. "There is someone coming up our driveway." She stood, racing to place any event she might have forgotten. Nothing came to mind, so she settled for peeking into the slowly drifting snow and trying to decipher who it was in the front of her home.

Only when he neared the stairs did she recognize him. "Aiko, do you mind occupying yourself with something to do? I would like to speak with him alone." Aiko complied without a word, taking the empty mugs with her into the kitchen.

The anticipated knock came at the door, at first softly and unsure, then louder. Miki exhaled deeply, raising her eyes to the ceiling as though she were asking for strength from the old, wooden beams.

"Hello, how may I—Bayu! Did you really walk all the way here in the snow?" Her original composure broke at the sight of the shivering boy.

"Don't let our guest stand there, kiniiri(2). Get him something warm!" Aiko's shout floated through the house. Miki pulled a fluffy towel from the nearby closet and handed it to Bayu, silently holding her palms out for his coat. He peeled it off, now dripping in the warmth of the house, and replaced it with the towel, all the while following her with those dark, dark eyes of his. She hung the coat over a chair, resolving to worry about the wetness later.

"Please don't shut me out," the single plea shattered the silence. "I know you aren't okay, you haven't been. I know there's more going on behind that pretty smile and those bright eyes. Just take back that layer, even that one layer for me. I want to know you the way Loa does. More than Loa, because I know things that she doesn't, so I know you aren't saying everything there is." She didn't answer, retreating into the kitchen to receive the hot chocolate her cousin held out to her.

"Come on, not here." She beckoned for him to trace her steps as she led them deeper into the house. She opened the dance studio, a place she had once never been able to live a single day without being in, a dark and abandoned area. She clicked a few of the lights on, not wanting to flood the room with false brightness.

They sat against a mirror wall together, in perfect stillness, both staring into the dim space, wondering what to do. She had been careful not to interact with him in a time where it could get deeper and too intimate, even go so far as to declining his invitation to Christmas and New Year's parties, giving empty excuses they both knew were untrue.

Occasionally, Bayu shivered, taking sips of his hot chocolate to warm himself up. She kept a concerned eye on him through her periphery in case he showed any signs of needing anything else.

"I get," he began quietly. "I get that there are things you don't think you can tell me yet. I understand that we all have our own barriers to climb over to let others climb over too. But please, tell me what I can do to understand you." The words hung midair, where they didn't have any special destination but where they also were meant to be.

"I have a form of synesthesia called chromesthesia," she stated instead. That request was something she couldn't answer yet. But maybe opening something else would suffice for him, at least for a while. "It only affects me when I hear music and I have perfect pitch because of it. I love seeing the colors blending with each other, and it only happens once in a while, but when it's an amazing performance, I have sensory overload, but in a good way."

"Wow, that's—" Bayu had a wondering manner about his eyes.

She stumbled over the next words, just to get them out. "I was also bullied a little for it in elementary school because the other kids thought I was crazy. So I guess you could say I have trust issues too."

"That's so amazing, though!" There were literal stars in his eyes when she turned her head to look at him. "Who wouldn't want to see colors in everyday life beyond a normal person?"

"A person who wants to be normal," she deadpanned. "It's not all sunshine and rainbows, but that's where we stop for Miki's Emotional Floods for today." They cracked a smile together, some tension leaving.

"What do you do here?" He changed the subject. A different sort of strain appeared in her stomach.

"I used to dance," her voice echoed in the studio. Unwanted happy memories came back to her head, flashing one by one, all the colors still vivid.

"To what sort of music?"

"Mm, normally, I just learned the choreography of other dances just to get the hang of stuff. Mostly K-pop and then some ballet." An image of the completion of her first full choreography edged into her mind. Her mother, still young and beautiful, and her, at ten years, giggling at their sweaty reflections.

"Show me?" She paused, debating. Finally, she used her phone to play a song she hadn't thought about in a while. Standing up, she let the first few bars play themselves out. The dance still came to her easily, the colors intertwining around her in her mind. She moved with her eyes closed, swaying with the beat, never letting her mind doubt her limbs.

"Hot," he joked, once the song stopped. "I think I've heard that one from my sister before."

"Shut up," she blushed. "We don't speak of this ever again."

"Only if you dance for me more often," he countered. She stared into his face, not believing what he was saying. When she got her unwanted confirmation, she slouched.

"Once in a while," she promised. "Since we're probably gonna be snowed in anyhow, you should call your parents and tell them you're staying here."

"What? Why?" Bayu almost demanded.

"Don't wanna spend more time with me?" She pouted playfully.

"I—It's not—That's not what I meant! I'll call my parents, just cool your pants," Bayu grunted. She caught a hidden smile on his face as he trooped up the stairs, phone ringing.

Aiko met her at the top of the stairs. "Who is this boy and should I be concerned?"

"No, he's my...friend. The snow doesn't look like it's going to let up, so I offered to let him stay the night. Tomorrow's the weekend anyways, right?" Miki found herself searching for something from her cousin, and she realized it was approval.

Aiko shrugged. "Not my house, so do as you please. But be aware that I'll be very close to watch him. I am going to make more cookies." She turned back into the kitchen and Miki ran upstairs to see what she could find for her temporary tenant.

"My parents gave the okay," Bayu reported. He'd managed to locate her in a guest room, rummaging through the closet. "What're you doing?"

"Looking for clothes," she responded, her voice muffled. "I don't know if I have anything to fit you unless you don't mind wearing an oversized UPENN shirt. Oh! Fuzzy pants. Perfect." She emerged, her hair in the way until she pulled it back into a quick braid, said clothes hanging from her arm.

"Aren't those the pair we got together at the mall?" He pointed skeptically at the pajama pants. They were adorned with depictions of cute owls and were a pastel pink.

"They are," she grinned. "But I accidentally got a couple sizes too big 'cause I thought they were one half of a onesie or something."

"That," he gasped with laughter, "is an idiotic thought. But they're helping us out, so it's okay." She rolled her eyes, shoving the clothing into his arms.

"Go get changed, you're lucky my cousin is here. We can have some more warm things before we set up your bed." As she waited for him to come out of the bathroom, she straightened her room and switched to her own pajamas, another fluffy set decorated with stars.

"You cute," he exclaimed lightheartedly once he stepped out. She pretended her heart hadn't jumped at that. "But I'm cuter."

She didn't miss a beat. "Let's see what social media says." Before he could react, she started a video of him, maneuvering to include herself and typed a few words out, hitting send. It was posted on her wall with a poll asking who was cuter.

"Hey!" He blurted, grabbing for her phone. Expecting a loud objection, she twisted away from him. "Do I at least look okay?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "When don't you look okay?" She'd meant it rhetorically, but he thought for a second. Even now, his hair still a little damp, he looked beyond okay. She slid her phone into the waistband of her pajama pants.

"When I wake up," he decided. "You're not allowed to see me until I say so tomorrow, okay?"

"I'll do as I want," she declared. "And I want to see you in the morning, so I will. C'mon, I can already smell the hot cocoa." Just as she'd claimed, not only was there hot chocolate, but newly melted s'mores were awaiting for their arrival. Without waiting for her, Bayu raced ahead to sit at the counter, cramming a whole s'more into his mouth.

"A little excited, are we?" She smiled wryly. Just as she reached for her own mug, her phone buzzed against her stomach. Distracted, she pulled it out, unlocking it to discover a plethora of answers to her poll, her private messages dotted in between.

"Who's it?" Bayu craned his neck towards her in curiosity.

"Your doom," she pressed her lips together to hide her smile. "My friends just love me that much."

"'S that supposed to mean?" He mumbled indignantly through the s'more. She had won the poll, by quite a few votes, but many of her voters had responded to the poll generally saying that it was only their love for her that had stopped them from saying Bayu because to quote Loa in particular, damn, was that boy cute. She wasn't about to admit that to him, though.

"Oh," she waved her hand around vaguely. "Just that I won." He grabbed the phone from her only to see that the results were as she said.

"This fast? The school must love you." He handed it back to her wide-eyed. In a slightly disgruntled manner, he reached for another s'more.

"Hey!" She protested, crossing her arms. "Don't eat them all." He kept his gaze locked on hers as he gripped a s'more, letting the chocolate drip onto his hand as he bit into it. He cackled as she dove for him, bouncing out of his chair and taunting her from the other side of the counter.

Ultimately giving up, she slumped into her seat, wrapped her hands around her mug, and took a long sip. Bayu cautiously rounded the counter to take his own chair, being given the stink-eye all the way there.

"Alright, children," her cousin's voice resounded. "It is almost eleven o'clock, whether you realized it or not. And it is time for bed because feeding you sugar this late at night will turn into fat that you cannot burn off when you are forty. So go brush your teeth and set up sleeping arrangements so that I can have my own fun."

"Okay." Bayu scrambled to his feet, s'mores already forgotten and mug empty. "Thank you so much for the snacks, Mrs. Okudera."

"Oh, I'm not—"

"She's not my mother," she interrupted, raising her voice. "Bayu, I'll meet you upstairs." With a slight frown, he complied, silently filing up the stairs.

"Are you good?" Aiko drew her eyebrows together in concern. "I thought we were good."

She breathed deeply, slowly, eyes closed. "We are, but I don't think it'd be safe for me to start to rely on you. Thanks for everything, really. But I just need you to step back and let me stay used to being alone." She gave her cousin a melancholic smile and a gentle squeeze of the shoulder.

"Of course," Aiko sighed. "I suppose I should have seen this coming. It's okay, I understand. Just use me as you need."

"Sleep well," she acknowledged her cousin's words with a series of nods. "I'll see you tomorrow."

With that, they both turned to their separate ways. As she usually did, pushing her precious people away from her. So it was her own fault, she decided. And she preferred it that way. Better the superhero take the burden.

She shook the darkening thoughts away as she pushed through her door into her room. Bayu was waiting for her, peering at the bookshelves lined with little trinkets.

"D'you wanna sleep in my room or in the guest? I can set you up anywhere," she braved a smile. "Air mattress and lots of blankets if you're gonna be in here."

"Is that you?" He passed her inquiry with a charming smile thrown over his shoulder. "You're so cute!"

"I didn't even answer," she deadpanned, peeking over his shoulder. "And yeah, it is. I was like, six?" She searched her memory for that specific moment in the photograph. It had been at an ice cream social, her hair wild in the photo from running around with her newfound friends from that day. She almost melted at the nostalgia that smacked into her like an ocean wave.

"I wish I was that cute when I was younger. But hey, better glow-up!" Bayu pounded his chest lightly with pride. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him.

"Well?" She tilted her head. "Where do you wanna sleep?"

He gestured around him. "I'm used to sleeping in the same room as my siblings, so I guess I'll sleep here, if that's okay?" Her heart thumped at his consideration and that beautiful look in his eyes.

"Uh, yeah. That's fine. Help me get the air mattress?" She tried to ignore the quickening beat of her pulse as they set up the mattress, her face heating up every time they got a little too close together.

He was just another guy, she attempted to rationalize. What made him so different from her schoolmates that her heart kept leaping every time their gazes met? He would just break her heart in the end, no doubt about it, so she'd let the crush stay but never anything more. It was for her own good, she told herself firmly.

"Um, bathroom and toothbrush?" Bayu sat up from where he was sprawled on the mattress. "I need to sleep before I regret staying up tomorrow."

"There should be new ones in lower cupboard," she mumbled, already half asleep on top of her own comforter.

"I'mma assume you mean in the bathroom." She listened to him stand and walk a few paces away before coming back. She almost lifted her head to see why, but felt a blanket drape on top of her back followed by the pit-a-pat of his feet growing softer.

The last thing she remembered was the curve of her lips into a smile and thinking that maybe forgiving and forgetting wasn't really a bad thing.

1.  korean: a concept signifying the subtle art and ability to listen and gauge others' moods. (western culture would call it emotional intelligence)

2. japanese: pet or darling