"So you're saying," said Sumi, "his mother had the audacity to go and land herself in life support without a care for the well-being of her son?"

"Namjoon has a sister, too," said Eunji. "Also, a friendly reminder that you can't choose whether you have a stroke or not."

"I knew that."

"That he has a sister?"

"No, that you can't choose whether you have a stroke or not." Sumi paused, thinking. "Or maybe you can, if you lead a healthy lifestyle. Anyway, it sucks, though. That's a lot of hardships he's had to go through, at the age of..."

"23," Eunji finished. "And what's bothering me is that I can't do anything about it."

"It's not your place to try and fix his problem," said Sumi, sitting up from Eunji's bed. The comforter had been kicked to the side, and half of it was trailing on the ground, something that perturbed her. Sumi didn't seem to care, though.

"Yeah, but shouldn't I be supporting him? Isn't that what a good partner would do?"

Sumi turned her head to look at her friend, eyebrows furrowed. "Yes. But also...based on what you said, I don't think his mother will be able to recover on her own. So—"

"How do you know?" Eunji said indignantly. "Have you ever had a stroke?"

"When you have a second stroke, the chances of you dying from it are more than double the chances of you dying from the first one," said Sumi, as if stating the weather. Did she not care? Maybe she didn't care, because Namjoon was—in no way, shape, or form—connected to her. Maybe she was only listening to Eunji's problems because they were friends, not because she had advice to offer. "Look it up if you don't believe me."

"So what are you trying to tell me?"

Sumi took a deep breath. "Please excuse if I'm being a little impetuous, but..." The rest of her words were lost on Eunji. Her blood pounded in her ears, and she gripped the hem of her shirt to avoid punching her best friend in the nose. How dare she say something like that, how dare she insinuate the worst case scenario? She clenched her hands harder, long nails digging painfully into her palms.

But no matter what Eunji said or did, she could not deny that Sumi was correct. Namjoon's mother would, most likely, never be able to breathe, to do anything, on her own again, and Namjoon would have to come to terms with this. And with a jolt, Eunji realized that she would have to accept it too. You do not need to carry the world on your shoulders, she murmured to herself, a mantra she had learned to repeat. Eunji looked back up. "She's going to die, and I guess I can't bring her back. So what? My role is to support him through his difficult times."

"Did you not hear anything I said?" Sumi shot her a look. "It's not going to be a walk in the park. Supporting a grieving loved one is going to take a toll on your own mental health." Eunji waited for her to continue, but there was nothing more her friend could offer. But she understood what Sumi was too polite to say: Your mental health is already suffering as it is.

"I can't just leave him. It's mean. That's, like, common sense."

"I'm willing to bet that he has other friends who will support him."

"Look, if I don't do anything, if I don't visit, what would that say on my part?"

Sumi closed her eyes. No one spoke. Finally, she said, "I don't control you. Do whatever you want. But this is my opinion, and as your friend, it's my responsibility to at least warn you about any...questionable situations you might be getting yourself into." This situation isn't questionable at all!, Eunji thought. She was about to articulate that thought, but Sumi continued, "So please, at least consider my opinion, Eunji-ah."

There were several things Eunji wanted to say, but she didn't. Her mouth formed a line. She looked down, then back up into her friend's eyes, and nodded.

~

At the turn of Eunji's car key, the engine roared to life. With a sigh, she buckled her seat belt and rolled the window down, relieving her from the heat. She exited the parking lot, joining the line of cars waiting at a stoplight. The sun, ever so hot, glared into her eyes and on her face, and sweat began to form on her forehead. She rolled down all of the windows, but she could not shake the sticky feeling of sweat on her hands, her face, her legs. Oh, how she wanted to cool herself, to relieve the heat.

Eyeing a nearby coffee shop, Eunji turned into the lot, joining a long line of cars in the drive-through. It wasn't the best coffee, but she just wanted something cold.

She exited with an iced coffee and began to drive home. The distance between her internship and her parents' apartment was quite long, lengthened by the traffic, and she wouldn't have been able to sit in her hot car for a long period of time anyway.

Slowly, the skyscrapers began to shorten until the buildings were no more than ten stories tall. The space between each structure widened, allowing for small parks and the occasional cemetery to spring up. One particular cemetery caught her eye, and not because of the headstones punctuating the grass. There was a small parking lot in front of it, which only had one car. And that car...it seemed awfully familiar.

Namjoon!

Eunji maneuvered the car into the parking lot and got out, bringing her coffee with her—leaving it inside the car would melt the ice. A peek through the adjacent vehicle's window told her everything she needed to know; the Ryan plushie above the dash gave him away.

The gate creaked as it opened. She took care not to kick any of the headstones. Some of them were unreadable, the text worn by wind and rain. A few headstones had fresh-looking flowers, but most were bare, as if the deceased person's loved ones had forgotten about them. A calm feeling settled upon Eunji, so unlike what you should've felt in a cemetery: grief, anger, fear. Fear of whatever supernatural being lurked inside cemeteries. But it was broad daylight, she reminded herself, and ghosts didn't exist either.

Feet crunching the grass, she made her way to Namjoon, who was sitting in front of a white gravestone, a stone that shouldn't have existed in the first place. Eunji felt sorry for not visiting him. It had been a week since her conversation with Sumi, and even longer since she'd seen him. "Namjoon-ah," she said, when she was about 5 meters to his left.

He turned his head. "Eunji-ya," he mouthed.

She took a few tentative steps. Now, she could see the flowers placed at the base of the grave, a spray of pinks and reds and yellows. They shouldn't have belonged there, something so pretty against something so poignant. "I'm sorry for your loss," she blurted.

"Eunji-ya," said Namjoon, his face betraying no emotion. His dark circles had become darker, his face more haggard. "How did you find me?"

"I drove past on my way home and I saw your car."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Where were you?"

Eunji could sense the ambiguity in his question. An "I'm sorry" escaped from her lips, but he did not reply. "Come here," he said.

"Okay," she mumbled. Namjoon moved over, and she took a seat next to him.

a/n: stray kids' cover of "fancy" added 10 years to my lifespan

also yo sorry for not posting for a month. i know it seemed like i wasn't doing anything but in reality i wrote this chapter 3 times with different events occurring in each (discarded) draft so yeah lmao. anyway even though school is out, i'm still pretty busy and i haven't caught up on sleep yet lmao but please forgive me for the lack of updates sksksks