Chapter 2
The practice room mirror shows nine reflections, but Mina feels split into countless versions of herself. She watches Nayeon adjust Tzuyu's position for their new choreography, the casual touch making something twist in her chest. It's becoming harder to distinguish between times—past happiness bleeding into future dread, present moments slipping through her fingers like sand grasped too hard.
The slip comes without warning.
She's in their old practice room, but the air is thick with tension. Past-Nayeon stands with her arms crossed, jaw set in that way that means she's holding back tears.
"You can't just shut down like this," past-Nayeon says, voice tight. "We're worried about you. I'm worried about you."
Past-Mina sits on the floor, back against the mirror, knees pulled to her chest. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine! You barely talk anymore, you're going through practice like a ghost—"
"Then maybe I should just leave again," past-Mina snaps, and immediately regrets it when she sees past-Nayeon flinch.
The scene dissolves before she can see the aftermath, but it doesn't matter. She remembers this fight—their first real argument after her return from hiatus, when everything felt too raw, too fragile. Nayeon had bottled everything up and Mina’s return, as it coincided with the pandemic from 2020, just made everything much harder for the nine women. Especially them.
But instead of returning to the present, she finds herself thrown forward. The practice room is different—newer, with equipment she doesn't recognize. Future-Nayeon stands near the door, hands clenched into fists at her sides.
"You can't be serious," future-Nayeon says, and her voice carries a pain Mina's never heard before. "After everything—"
"Please don't make this harder than it has to be." Future-Mina's voice sounds tired, resigned.
"Harder? You think this is—" Future-Nayeon takes a step forward, but one of their managers moves between them. Sana's crying quietly in the corner, Momo and Jihyo hovering over her for support while Chaeyoung and Dahyun hover uncertainly nearby.
"Both of you need to calm down," their manager says, but Mina's already being pulled away, thrown into another moment.
She's in a bridal shop. Sunlight streams through tall windows, casting rainbow patterns through the crystal beads of a dozen wedding dresses. Chaeyoung sits on a plush cream-colored couch, watching as future-Mina emerges from a changing room in a flowing gown with delicate lace sleeves.
"What do you think?" Future-Mina spins slowly, the fabric rustling like whispered secrets.
Chaeyoung's smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. It’s both so her and not her at all. "It's beautiful. You're beautiful, unnie."
With each dress, each twirl before the mirror, Chaeyoung's expression grows more strained. She offers encouraging words, takes photos, suggests different styles, but there's something in her eyes—a sadness that looks too much like resentment mixing dangerously with self-pity.
Reality snaps back like a rubber band, and Mina finds herself on her knees in the present-day practice room. Nayeon's there immediately, helping her up while the others cluster around with varying degrees of concern.
"Just got dizzy," Mina manages, the lie coming easier with practice. "Probably need water."
"Take five, everyone," Jihyo calls out, and Mina feels grateful for the leader's subtle way of giving her space without drawing attention to it.
Nayeon guides her to the corner where their bags are piled, hand steady on her elbow. "Past or present?" she whispers once they're relatively alone.
Mina hesitates. She hasn't told Nayeon about the future visions, about the beach or the fights or the wedding dresses that make Chaeyoung look like she's watching a slow-motion car crash.
"Past," she says finally. "That fight we had, after I came back."
Nayeon's expression softens. "That feels like two hundred years ago."
It does, and it doesn't. Time has become fluid for Mina, memories and possibilities swirling together like cheap watercolors. She takes a sip of water, watching the others stretch and chat across the room. Everything feels both permanent and temporary, like she's simultaneously living multiple versions of her life.
A week passes without any slips, thankfully, and Mina finds herself holding her breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She catches Nayeon watching her sometimes, concern evident in the slight furrow of her brow, the way she hovers just a little closer than usual during practice.
They're in the company cafeteria when Nayeon finally breaks the silence about it. "The slips… you said—maybe they've stopped?"
Mina pushes her food around her plate, thinking about future-Nayeon's pain-filled voice, about Chaeyoung's sad eyes in the bridal shop. "Maybe."
"You don't sound happy about that."
"I'm not sure how to feel," Mina admits. It's not exactly a lie—she's just omitting the part about seeing glimpses of a future that seems to be hurtling toward some kind of heartbreak. And regardless of how little she knows of it, she’s certain of her utter participation and the thought settles down her gut, weighing her down more than any weighted blanket can.
Nayeon reaches across the table, her fingers brushing Mina's wrist. "Talk to me? You've been different lately, even when you're not... time-slipping."
The touch sends warmth spreading up Mina's arm, and for a moment she thinks it might trigger another slip. But the world stays steady, the present moment holding firm.
"I'm scared," she says finally, surprising herself with the admission.
"Of what?"
Everything, Mina wants to say. Of the future I keep seeing. Of the pain in your voice that hasn't happened yet. Of wedding dresses and beach waves and promises that might not be kept.
Instead, she opts for, "Of what it all means. Why it's happening. What if..." she pauses, choosing her words carefully. "What if the universe is trying to tell me something I don't want to hear?"
Nayeon's fingers tighten slightly around her wrist. "Like what?"
Before Mina can answer, Sana drops into the seat beside them, effectively ending the conversation. But Nayeon's question echoes in Mina's mind for the rest of the day.
Like what?
Like maybe some things are better left in the past. Like maybe the happiness she feels with Nayeon now is temporary, destined to shatter into something ugly and painful. Like maybe the universe is showing her these glimpses of the future as a warning, not a preview.
That night, alone in her apartment, Mina pulls out her phone and opens her gallery. There are countless photos of her and Nayeon—selcas from their trainee days, behind-the-scenes shots from music video filmings, casual moments caught between schedules, random dates that no longer seem random to her; maybe never did for Nayeon. She swipes through them slowly, watching their relationship evolve through the years.
In every photo, there's something in the way they look at each other—a softness, an understanding, a connection that transcends simple friendship; transcends time, it seems. It's there in their earliest pictures, raw and uncertain, and it's there in the most recent ones, refined by years of shared experiences.
Her phone buzzes with a text from Nayeon: Can't sleep. Thinking about what you said earlier.
Mina stares at the message for a long moment before replying: About being scared?
Yeah. Whatever the universe is trying to tell you... maybe it's not what you think.
The words make something catch in Mina's throat. She thinks about all the moments she's revisited through her time slips—the joy, the pain, the growth. Even that argument after her hiatus had led to deeper understanding between them.
But then she thinks about the future visions. The beach. The fight. The wedding dresses that made Chaeyoung look increasingly heartbroken.
Maybe, she texts back, because she doesn't know what else to say.
Three dots appear as Nayeon types, disappear, appear again. Finally: I miss you. Even when you're right here, I miss you.
Mina closes her eyes, feeling tears threaten. Because she gets it—she's been so caught up in navigating between past and future that she's been letting the present slip away.
I miss you too, she sends back, and it feels like both a confession and an apology.
Come over?
The invitation is simple, but it makes Mina's heart race. Because being around Nayeon means risking another slip, means possibly seeing more of a future she's not sure she wants to understand.
But maybe that's exactly why she needs to go.
On my way, she types, and hits send before she can change her mind.
Because one possible thing about traveling through time is that it shows you what was and what might be, but it doesn't tell you what to do with that information. It just sits there, awaiting action. It doesn't tell you whether to run toward or away from the future you glimpse.
As Mina grabs her keys and heads for the door, she realizes something. The time slips started when she was happy—specifically, when Nayeon made her happy. But that last argument she saw in the future... that hadn't been triggered by happiness.
It had been triggered by fear.
Maybe that's the real message the universe is trying to send. Maybe the future isn't as fixed as she thought. Maybe—
Her phone buzzes again: Bring me mint choco ice cream. I know I said I don’t like it, but you seem to love that so… I’m willing to try again.
Something about that last line feels like it carries more meaning than what can be contained in a tub of gelato.
Despite everything, Mina finds herself smiling. Because isn’t this what matters most? These small moments, these simple choices. Past and future will always exist, but right now, in this moment, there's just this—Nayeon being Nayeon, knowing exactly how to make her smile even when everything feels complicated.
She pulls her cap down and face mask up, gets in a taxi to somewhere downtown of Seoul where Nayeon is waiting for her, the night city spreading out before her like possibilities. She doesn't know what will happen when she reaches Nayeon's apartment. She doesn't know if she'll slip through time again, if she'll see more glimpses of a future that scares her.
But she knows this: sometimes the bravest thing you can do is live in the present, even when you've seen what might come next.
Even when you're scared of what it all means.
Los Angeles wraps around them like a dream, all sunshine and palm trees and the particular brand of surrealism that comes with being halfway around the world. The radio studio feels intimate despite the cameras, despite Zack's engaging presence and the way he leans forward, genuinely interested in their answers.
"So, relationships within the group," Zack says, his voice carrying that perfect radio timbre. "How have they evolved? You've basically grown up together. Seen each other blossom into fine women as yourselves."
Their translator carefully transcribes the words in Korean and Nayeon laughs, the sound warm and familiar. "Some days it feels like we're still those awkward trainees trying to figure everything out. Other days..." She glances at Mina, something soft in her expression. "Other days, it's like we've lived a thousand lives together."
She extends the microphone toward Mina, their fingers brushing in the handoff, and the world—
—tilts.
The studio dissolves like mist in sunlight, replaced by the familiar warmth of her family's dining room in Japan. Future-Mina sits at the table, picking at her mother's carefully prepared sukiyaki, when her phone buzzes.
Unknown number.
I don't think I can be there to watch you get married, Mina. I thought I could. I thought I was strong enough. Turns out I’m not. I love you both, though.
The chopsticks clatter against fine china. Future-Mina's hands shake as she tries to process the words, each one hitting like a physical blow.
"Minari?" Her mother's voice sounds distant, concerned. "What's wrong?"
Everything. Nothing. How can she explain when she doesn't understand herself? She stands abruptly, chair scraping against hardwood, and hurries from the room. Behind her, she hears her parents calling out, but their voices fade as she frantically pulls up her contacts.
The number is already blocked when she tries to call it.
With trembling fingers, she types the first character of Nayeon's name into her phone's search. Nothing. She tries again, desperate now. Still nothing, as if the contact has been deliberately erased, leaving only phantom spaces where their connection used to be.
The realization hits her like a wave: in this future, she's marrying someone else. And Nayeon—Nayeon can't bear to watch.
Future-Mina slides down the wall of her childhood bedroom, phone clutched to her chest like a lifeline. Memories that haven't happened yet crash over her—fights she hasn't had, choices she hasn't made, a path that leads her here, to this moment, to this seemingly insurmountable amount of pain.
She cries until her throat is raw, until her mother's gentle knocking at the door fades into worried whispers with her father. How can she explain that she's mourning a future she doesn't understand? That somewhere between now and then, something goes terribly wrong?
Hours blur together. Night falls, then dawn breaks. Future-Mina watches the sun climb over familiar mountains, marking time in a future she desperately wants to change but doesn't know how to.
She decides to check her phone again. Maybe she’s missed something. Maybe she just needs to look—
When reality barges itself through her consciousness, it's to the steady beep of hospital monitors and the sensation of something warm pressed against her hand.
Nayeon. Of course it's Nayeon, slumped in a chair beside the hospital bed, fingers intertwined with Mina's like she's afraid to let go. She looks exhausted, makeup smudged, still wearing the outfit from the radio show.
Mina must make some small sound, because Nayeon's head snaps up, relief flooding her features. "Thank god," she breathes, already reaching for the call button. "Let me get the doctor—"
"No." Mina's voice is hoarse, but she manages to catch Nayeon's wrist. "Wait. Just... wait."
Because she needs this moment, needs to look at Nayeon—present-day Nayeon, who hasn't yet lived through whatever leads to that heartbreaking message, who still looks at Mina like she's the answer to questions she hasn't figured out how to ask.
"Twenty-four hours," Nayeon says, her voice cracking slightly. "You were gone for twenty-four hours. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong, you just wouldn't... you wouldn't wake up."
Twenty-four hours. The exact length of her future slip. Mina's chest tightens as she remembers the text message, the blocked number, the empty spaces in her phone where Nayeon's name should be.
"The fans are worried sick," Nayeon continues, thumb drawing absent patterns on Mina's palm. "It's all over the news—'TWICE's Mina Collapses During Live Interview.' The company's been trying to manage it, but—"
"I love you."
The words fall into the space between them like stones into still water, creating ripples that can't be taken back. Nayeon goes very still, her hand frozen in the moment where it's joined with Mina's regardless of its warmth.
"What?"
"I love you," Mina says again, stronger this time. Because what does it matter now? She's seen a future where she loses Nayeon completely, where even her name becomes a blank space in Mina's phone. Whatever happens between now and then, she needs this truth to exist in the world.
"Mina-yah..." Nayeon's voice wavers. "You're not thinking clearly. You just woke up, you need—"
Mina pushes herself up, ignoring the way the room spins slightly. Her free hand finds the back of Nayeon's neck, and then she's pulling her in, pressing their lips together with all the desperation of someone who's seen a future she needs to change even if she’s not sure how to.
For a moment, Nayeon is completely still. Then she makes a small, broken sound against Mina's mouth and kisses back, gentle at first, then with increasing urgency. Her hand comes up to cup Mina's face, thumb brushing away tears Mina hadn't realized she was crying.
When they finally break apart, Nayeon rests her forehead against the crook of Mina's shoulder, both of them breathing unevenly. "How long?" she whispers.
"Always have," Mina answers, and it's true. Even before the time slips started showing her their history from new angles, even before she understood what she was feeling, it was always Nayeon.
Hell, even now, with how the future looks like, she knows it will always be Nayeon.
Outside the hospital room, they can hear the bustle of activity—nurses chatting, phones ringing, the general chaos of a busy medical facility. Somewhere beyond that, the media is probably having a field day with footage of Mina collapsing mid-interview. Their managers will have questions, the company will want explanations, fans will need reassurance.
But right now, in this moment, there's just this: Nayeon's fingers still intertwined with hers, their skin pressed together, sharing breath like they're sharing secrets.
"I should get the doctor," Nayeon says eventually, but she doesn't move.
"Five more minutes," Mina pleads. "Just... stay. Please."
The word catches in her throat as she remembers the future text message. Please. Such a simple word, carrying so much weight.
"Okay," Nayeon agrees easily, like she'd agree to anything Mina asked right now. "I’m here. I'm not going anywhere."
The promise makes Mina's chest ache, because she knows it might not be true in the more complicated string of things. Somewhere between now and that future she witnessed, something changes. Something breaks.
But also, maybe that's why she saw it. Maybe knowing the possibility of that future is exactly what she needs to prevent it.
Nayeon shifts to sit on the edge of the hospital bed, their hands still joined, and Mina lets herself lean into her warmth. She doesn't tell her about the future slip, about the text message or the blank spaces in her phone. She can't bring herself to mar this moment with the weight of what might be.
Instead, she focuses on the present: the steady rise and fall of Nayeon's chest, the familiar scent of her perfume, the way their fingers fit together like they were designed for exactly this purpose.
"When you collapsed," Nayeon says quietly, "You have no idea—I thought... I've never been so scared."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Just... maybe, don't do it again?" Nayeon tries to make it sound light, but Mina can hear the genuine fear underneath.
"I'll try," Mina promises, though she knows it might not be in her control. The time slips come when they come; a thief in the night, taking her whenever they please.
A soft knock at the door makes them both look up. Through the window, they can see one of their managers hovering uncertainly in the hallway.
Reality, it seems, is ready to reassert itself.
"Ready?" Nayeon asks, starting to pull away.
Mina tightens her grip on Nayeon's hand. "Together?"
Nayeon's smile is like sunrise—warm and full of promise. "Together."
As their manager enters the room, bringing with her the outside world and all its complications, Mina holds onto that smile like an anchor. Because whatever the future holds, whatever that text message means, whatever choices lead to that moment by the beach in her wedding dress—right now, in this moment, Nayeon is here.
And maybe that's enough to change everything.
Or maybe, this would make all the pain of the future worth hurting.
Mina develops a theory in the quiet hours between midnight and dawn, when Nayeon's asleep beside her and the world feels malleable enough to bend. If she can change something in the past—something significant enough to ripple forward—maybe she can reshape whatever leads to that devastating future text message.
The first slip catches her on the stairs to her apartment. Tzuyu's a few steps ahead, talking about the drama she's been watching lately, when the world softens at the edges.
"—and then the second lead actually—" Tzuyu's voice fades like radio static.
Suddenly, Mina's back in the survival show, watching Sana practice the same dance move over and over, determination etched in every line of her body. Past-Mina stands in the corner, counting beats under her breath, still uncertain of her Korean, still finding her place in this new world.
She opens her mouth to say something—anything—that might change the course of history, but reality's already reasserting itself. Tzuyu's concerned face swims back into view.
"—na? Mina-unnie? Should I call someone?"
"No, I'm fine," Mina manages, gripping the railing. "Just got dizzy for a second."
The second slip happens during dinner with her mother, who's visiting from Japan. They're discussing plans for the weekend when the restaurant around them smudges like charcoal under careless fingers..
She's with Tzuyu again, but it's 2021 this time. They're in their shared apartment, the one they had before Mina moved out. Tzuyu is carefully applying face masks to both of them while some variety show plays quietly in the background. Past-Mina lies on the couch, letting their maknae fuss over her, and the domesticity of the moment makes her chest ache.
But before she can do anything to mark this moment, to change it somehow, she's back in the present, her mother's worried voice cutting through the disorientation.
"Minari? Your food's getting cold."
The third slip happens in Hongdae. Lisa's telling her some ridiculous story about her cats, gesturing animatedly as they try to ignore the not-so-subtle camera flashes from nearby paparazzi. Mid-laugh, the cafe scene melts away.
This time, she's at their third world tour concert, the encore in full swing. The stadium lights paint everything in soft blues and purples, and the fans' voices rise like a tide around them. Chaeyoung stands beside her, grinning that infectious grin that makes her dimples show.
And there, in the crowd—MiChaeng banners wave like butterflies, hearts drawn with careful devotion. Past-Mina's done this dance before: fanservice with practiced ease, hearts made with interlocked fingers, comfortable skinship that means everything and nothing.
But present-Mina, watching through past-eyes, sees an opportunity. This slip feels more stable than the others, giving her time to think, to act.
She pulls Chaeyoung closer, their shoulders brushing as they wave to the fans. The younger girl goes with it easily, used to Mina's occasional bursts of affection. They make hearts together, fingers intertwined, and Mina can feel the crowd's enthusiasm surge.
Then, in a moment of either brilliance or madness, she does something she knows never happened in the original timeline—she turns and presses a kiss to Chaeyoung's cheek, letting it linger just long enough to be meaningful.
The fans' screams reach a fever pitch. Through her peripheral vision, she catches Chaeyoung's surprised smile, the slight pink tinting her ears. Past-Nayeon says something teasing from somewhere behind them, but Mina's already being pulled back to the present.
She blinks, finding herself back in the cafe with Lisa, who's looking at her with growing concern.
"You okay? You went somewhere else for a minute there."
Because sometimes, it’s a parallel correlation—time slip and present. Sometimes, what slips as a day is only a mere second in reality.
"Yeah, just..." Mina takes a sip of her now-lukewarm coffee, trying to ground herself. "Lost in thought."
She waits for something to feel different—some shift in her memories, some change in the present timeline. But everything remains stubbornly the same. The paparazzi still lurk nearby, Lisa's still telling her story about her cats, and somewhere in the future, someone still sends that heartbreaking text message.
"Want to get out of here?" Lisa asks, nodding subtly toward the cameras. "My place isn't far, and Lily misses her favorite auntie."
"Sure," Mina agrees, but her mind is elsewhere, trying to understand why nothing's changed.
Later that night, she lies in bed scrolling through old photos on her phone. She finds one from that concert—her and Chaeyoung making hearts together, both laughing at something now lost to time. The kiss isn't captured in any of the official photos, but fan sites probably have dozens of angles of that moment.
Her phone buzzes with a text from Chaeyoung: Movie night tomorrow? Dahyun's busy and I need someone to watch this indie film with. I hear it’s utterly boring. Means it’s good.
Something about the message makes Mina pause. She's always been close with Chaeyoung—they all have, in different ways—but lately, there's been a shift she can't quite name. More texts, more casual invitations, more moments where she catches the younger girl watching her with an expression she can't quite read.
Sure, she replies, adding a penguin emoji that makes her smile despite her lingering unease.
Chaeyoung responds immediately with a string of happy emojis, and Mina feels a wave of affection for her bandmate's enthusiasm. She's about to reply when another text comes through—this one from Nayeon.
Miss you. Come over?
Three simple words that make her heart skip. Because even with everything—the time slips, the future warnings, her attempts to change the past—this hasn't changed. The way her pulse quickens when Nayeon reaches out, the automatic smile that forms when she sees her name on the screen.
On my way, she types, then hesitates before adding: I miss you too.
As she gathers her things to head over to Nayeon's, she can't help but wonder about the ripples she might be creating. That kiss on Chaeyoung's cheek—what if it changes something she can't predict? What if trying to prevent one future just leads to another kind of heartbreak?
But then she remembers the text message that hasn't happened yet, the blank spaces in her phone where Nayeon's name should be, and she knows she has to keep trying. Because the alternative—accepting that future as inevitable—isn't an option she's willing to consider.
She steps out into the night, the city lights painting everything in soft focus. Somewhere in this sprawling metropolis, Chaeyoung's probably already planning what snacks to get for their movie night. Somewhere, Nayeon's waiting for her, probably curled up on her couch in those ridiculous bunny slippers she refuses to throw away no matter how tacky and childish they are.
And somewhere, in a future she's desperately trying to change, someone sends a text message that breaks everything apart.
The night air carries a hint of autumn, reminding her that time moves forward whether she wants it to or not. All she can do is try to guide its course, one small change at a time, hoping that somewhere along the way, she figures out how to prevent that future from becoming reality.
Even if it means creating ripples she can't control, consequences she can't predict.
Even if it means someone else's heart might end up caught in the crossfire.
The evening settles around them like a comfortable blanket, city lights painting soft patterns through Nayeon's floor-to-ceiling windows. Mina's feet are tucked under Nayeon's thighs, both of them absorbed in their phones while some Netflix drama plays quietly in the background. It's the kind of ordinary moment that feels extraordinary simply because of who she's sharing it with.
"I'm bored," Mina announces suddenly, surprising herself.
Nayeon looks up, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Hi bored, I'm—"
"Don't you dare finish that dad joke," Mina cuts her off, but she's already laughing. "I'm going live on Insta."
"What? Now?" Nayeon glances down at her bare face. "Yah! Give me two minutes!"
Mina watches, endeared, as Nayeon scrambles off the couch, nearly tripping over her own feet in her rush to find her makeup bag. There's something so charming about how she can go from completely comfortable in her own skin to suddenly conscious of appearing perfect for their fans.
"Your bare face is pretty too, you know," Mina calls after her.
"Says the girl who literally wakes up looking like that," Nayeon shoots back, already dabbing BB cream under her eyes.
When they finally settle back on the couch, Nayeon now satisfied with her appearance, Mina props her phone up against a stack of books on the coffee table. She catches their reflection in the screen—Nayeon's head resting casually on her shoulder, both of them in oversized t-shirts and comfortable shorts, looking exactly like what they are: two people completely at ease with each other.
The moment Mina hits the "go live" button, notifications explode across the screen like digital fireworks. She adjusts the phone against the stack of books, making sure both she and Nayeon's empty spot on the couch are visible in the frame.
MINA LIVE!!!
OMG SO RANDOM
wait is that nayeon's apartment???
I KNOW THAT COUCH
THE RABBIT PLUSHIE IN THE BACKGROUND
I'M CRYING
"Hi everyone," Mina says, watching the viewer count climb with dizzying speed. "We're just hanging out and thought we'd say hello."
we who???
WHOSE APARTMENT IS THIS
those are definitely nayeon's curtains
MINAYEON CRUMBS
my heart please
The comments flood in faster than she can read them, a stream of capital letters and emojis that make her smile. Then Nayeon's voice calls from the kitchen: "Minari, where did I put that takeout menu?"
The comment section absolutely explodes.
NAYEON?????I KNEW IT
MINAYEON NATION RISE
THE DOMESTICITY IS KILLING ME
they're literally just existing and i'm crying
I’m confused if i'm freaking out or i’m jealous
"Check the drawer under the coffee machine," Mina calls back, unable to help her fond smile. "Where you always put it and always forget you put it."
"Ah!" Nayeon's triumphant voice carries through the apartment. "What would I do without you?"
MARRIED. THEY'RE MARRIED YOUR HONOR
the way mina knows where everything is in nayeon's apartment
I'M GOING TO PASS AWAY
CEO OF KNOWING NAYEON'S HABITS
SOMEONE CLIP THIS, CHAT
Mina reads a few comments aloud, laughing at the fans' enthusiasm. "Everyone seems very excited that I know where you keep your takeout menus, unnie."
"That's because you're the only one who can keep track of my chaos," Nayeon replies, finally appearing in frame. She's wearing minimal makeup now, hair pulled up in a messy bun, and she drops onto the couch beside Mina with practiced ease. "Okay, let's order. The usual?"
THE WAY SHE KNOWS MINA'S ORDER
they share one braincell and it's their mutual food order
watching married life in real time
SOMEONE WRITE THIS FANFIC
this will definitely be on AO3 tomorrow
what channel is this?
"You all seem very invested in our food ordering habits," Mina observes, reading comments. "Oh, someone's asking what the usual is?"
"Tell them it's a secret," Nayeon stage-whispers, already dialing the restaurant. "Let them theorize."
THEY HAVE INSIDE JOKES ABOUT THEIR FOOD ORDER
the way nayeon just casually knows what mina wantsrelationship goals tbh
I'M TAKING NOTES FOR MY MINAYEON AU
This was not in my bingo card for a tuesday night
"While Nayeonnie orders, should we do some song requests?" Mina asks, and immediately the comments shift to a flood of song titles.
TT PLEASE
what r u doing here dahyun???
fancy acoustic version!!!
do Feel Special
i'm not dahyun
SCIENTIST
your solos together please
"Look at all these good suggestions," Mina says when Nayeon finishes ordering. "They want us to sing."
"Bold of them to assume we remember our own lyrics," Nayeon jokes, but she's already pulling up the instrumental version of "Feel Special" on her phone.
They sing together, voices blending in familiar harmony, and the comments turn into a sea of hearts and crying emojis. Mina catches glimpses of fan reactions between verses:
the way they don't even need to coordinate who takes which part
THEIR VOICES TOGETHER I'M SOFT
minayeon subunit when
they literally breathe in sync
this is better than any vlive
stream strategy
When the song ends, Nayeon reads through some comments. "'Are you two always like this?' Like what?"
"Apparently we're being domestic," Mina explains, enjoying the way Nayeon's nose scrunches in confusion.
"This is just normal Tuesday night behavior," Nayeon protests, then seems to realize that admission might not help their case.
TUESDAY NIGHT BEHAVIOR
bitch so this is routine for them???
my minayeon heart can't take this
they really said domestic rights
TUESDAY. NIGHT. BEHAVIOR.
slay queens
"Someone's asking how often we do this," Mina reads, then adds with deliberate casualness, "Probably shouldn't tell them about Monday movie nights."
Nayeon catches on immediately, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Or Wednesday wine and drama sessions."
"Thursday game nights."
"Friday cooking disasters."
They're playing it up for the camera now, watching the comments dissolve into chaos with each new "revelation."
THEY HAVE A WHOLE WEEKLY SCHEDULE TOGETHER
cooking disasters implies regular cooking attempts
wine and drama nights??
i was waiting for TT
WINE AND DRAMA NIGHTS???
this is a whole marriage
someone check if they filed paperwork
not dahyun watching her unnies flirt
"'Blink twice if you're in love with Nayeon,'" Mina reads, and without missing a beat, she blinks. Twice. Deliberately.
The viewer count jumps by another fifty thousand as fans frantically share the live with their friends. Nayeon, focused on setting up their coffee table for the incoming food, misses the gesture entirely.
DID ANYONE ELSE SEE THAT
MINA ACTUALLY DID IT
SCREENSHOT SCREENSHOT SCREENSHOT
THE CONFIDENCE
minayeon is real and this is proof
wtf is dispatch doing? this is goooold
stream gold
can you sing TT?
"What did you do?" Nayeon asks, noticing the sudden surge in notifications. "The comments are going crazy."
"Just giving them something to think about," Mina says innocently, but she can't help adding a wink to the camera.
THE WINK
she's literally flirting with nayeon through us
this is the most confident gay panic I've ever seen
SOMEONE CHECK ON MINAYEON NATION
we're not surviving this live
A familiar username appears—Chaeyoung posting three crying emojis. Then another comment from her: unnie you can't just do that to us
Something tugs at Mina's conscience, remembering that concert kiss she planted in the past, wondering if those crying emojis mean more than they appear to. But before she can dwell on it, the doorbell rings.
"Food!" Nayeon announces, jumping up to answer it. "Everyone say thank you to the delivery person who's bringing us happiness!"
The comments immediately fill with thank you messages, making Mina laugh at how easily their fans follow along with their whims.
thank you delivery person
THANK YOU FOR FEEDING OUR GIRLS
the real mvp
bringing food to the wives
marriage meal delivery service
When Nayeon returns with the food, they turn it into an impromptu mukbang. Nayeon insists on feeding Mina pieces of tteokbokki, making exaggerated airplane noises that have both of them dissolving into giggles.
WIFE BEHAVIOR
feeding each other on live???
this is better than any dating show
this is better than onlyfans fr
the way mina just naturally opens her mouth
they've definitely done this before
"'Are we witnessing a date?'" Mina reads, raising an eyebrow at the camera. "What do you think, Nayeonnie? Is this a date?"
Nayeon pretends to think about it seriously. "Well, there's food, entertainment, good company... sounds like a date to me."
The comment section practically melts down.
THEY ACTUALLY SAID IT'S A DATE
this is not a drill this is not a drill
MINAYEON CONFIRMED
imagine being so powerful you can just say it's a date
someone check if jyp is still breathing
They take more song requests between bites, harmonizing on "Scientist" while sharing japchae, performing an impromptu rap verse from "Set Me Free" that has fans demanding a rap line subunit.
the duality of these two
going from domestic wives to rap gods
minayeon world domination
putting this whole live in my minayeon evidence folder
"Oh, here's an interesting question," Nayeon says, reading comments. "'What's your favorite thing about each other?'"
"That's dangerous," Mina warns, but she's already smiling. "We'll be here all night if we start listing things."
THE IMPLICATION
they have too many favorite things about each other
this is better than any confession scene
SOMEONE WRITE THIS DOWN
tiktok gon go crazy
"Just one thing then," Nayeon suggests, and before Mina can stop her, adds: "I'll go first. I love how Minari always knows what I need before I do."
The sincerity in her voice makes Mina's heart skip, and for a moment she forgets they're on live in front of hundreds of thousands of people. "I love how you make everything feel like an adventure," she says softly. "Even Tuesday nights."
“Oh! And the shorts,” Nayeon adds, alluding to Jihyo’s sentiments about Mina’s loungewear preferences. “I love Mina’s short shorts.”
this is the most romantic thing I've ever witnessed
not the shorts Nayeon
horny Nayeon omg
they forgot we're here
WATCHING THEM FALL IN LOVE IN REAL TIME
tuesday nights will never be the same
giving each other heart eyes on main
someone douse them with water
Three hours pass like this—singing, eating, reading comments, sharing inside jokes that send fans into theoretical spirals. The viewer count stays steadily above 300,000, everyone seemingly captivated by this glimpse into their casual intimacy.
"We should sleep," Mina finally says, noting the time. "Thank you everyone for hanging out with us!"
"Sweet dreams!" Nayeon adds, waving at the camera. "Don't stay up all night making theories!"
too late we're already theorizing
this live will be discussed in fan meetings for years
THANK YOU FOR FEEDING US
minayeon nation we're eating good tonight
putting this whole live in my comfort folder
really? no TT?!
The last comment Mina sees before ending the live is from Sana: you two are playing a dangerous game 😉
The moment the live ends, the atmosphere shifts. Mina's still looking at the phone, reading the first wave of social media reactions, when she feels Nayeon's hands slide around her waist. The touch is different from their usual casual intimacy—more deliberate, more charged.
"I've been thinking about you a lot lately—might or might not have anything to do with your shorts," Nayeon murmurs against her ear, and the low tone of her voice makes Mina shiver.
When she turns to face her, Nayeon's looking at her with an intensity that makes her breath catch. Then they're kissing, and it's nothing like their first kiss in the hospital, nothing like the careful explorations they've shared since then.
This kiss feels like falling. Like flying. Like every romance novel cliché come to life, except it's real—Nayeon's hands tangling in her hair, the soft sound she makes when Mina pulls her closer, the way the world narrows down to just this: the press of lips, the sharing of breath, the steady drum of hearts beating in sync.
No time slip has ever felt like this. Perhaps, nothing ever will. No journey to past or future could compare to being absolutely, completely present in this moment.
"Stay," Nayeon whispers against her lips. Not a question, not quite a demand. A hope, maybe. A future they could build together, if they're brave enough to try.
Mina answers by kissing her again, trying to pour everything she feels into the contact. Every moment they've shared, every time slip that's shown her their history from new angles, every possible future she's trying to prevent or create.
Later, much later, they lie tangled together on Nayeon's too-soft couch, the city still alive outside but their own world quiet and contained. Nayeon traces lazy patterns on Mina's arm, humming something that might be their latest single or might be something entirely new.
"The fans are going to be insufferable tomorrow," Nayeon says, but she sounds pleased about it.
"Let them," Mina replies, pressing a kiss to Nayeon's collarbone just because she can. "They're not entirely wrong."
"About what? Us being domestic? Being married?" Nayeon's tone is teasing, but there's something vulnerable underneath.
Mina thinks about that future text message, about blank spaces in phone contacts, about wedding dresses and beach waves and choices not yet made. "About all of it, maybe. Eventually."
Nayeon's hand stills on her arm. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
They fall silent, but it's a comfortable silence, full of possibilities. Mina watches the city lights paint patterns on Nayeon's ceiling and wonders if this moment—this perfect, ordinary, extraordinary moment—is enough to change the future she's seen.
She hopes so. God, she hopes so.