100 Days of You

—Day 1—

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and something artificial, like the place was trying too hard to mask the scent of sickness. Seol Yoona had always hated it.

She sat in the doctor’s office, hands clenched into fists in her lap. The doctor—Dr. Kwon—had a kind face, the kind that made people feel safe. But no amount of kindness could soften the weight of her words.

"We’ll do our best to manage the symptoms, but… you should prepare for the time you have left."

Yoona barely heard the rest. Something about palliative care, options for making her comfortable. But none of it mattered.

Because she had one hundred days left.

She walked out of the hospital in a daze, barely registering the way the cold air bit at her skin. It was mid-autumn, and the sky was beginning to darken even though it was barely past five. The golden hues of the setting sun painted the city in soft warmth, but to Yoona, everything looked faded, like the world had already started moving on without her.

She wandered without direction, feet carrying her to a small café tucked between a bookstore and a pharmacy. It was one of those places she had always meant to visit but never had the time for. Funny, how she suddenly had nothing but time—just not enough of it.

The bell chimed as she stepped inside. The place smelled of coffee and freshly baked bread, and for a moment, Yoona let herself breathe it in, let it distract her.

She ordered a simple Americano, barely tasting it as she sat by the window, watching people pass by. Couples holding hands, friends laughing, someone hurriedly typing on their phone. Life continued.

That was when she noticed the napkin dispenser on the table. Without thinking, she pulled one out and reached for the pen in her bag.

What did she want to do before she died?

It was a question she never thought she’d have to answer so soon.

Her handwriting was uneven, shaky as she scribbled down the first things that came to mind.

1. Watch a sunrise from the top of a mountain.

2. Travel somewhere I’ve never been.

3. Dance in the rain.

4. Fall in love.

The last one made her pause.

Was it even possible?

Yoona sighed, folding the napkin and tucking it into her pocket. She finished her coffee and left, feeling more lost than before.

---

She arrived home to an empty apartment. It wasn’t much—just a small studio with a mattress on the floor, a desk cluttered with books, and a single plant she kept forgetting to water. But it was hers.

She turned on the lights and threw her jacket over a chair before heading to the rooftop.

The night air was crisp, the city stretching endlessly beneath her. Lights flickered in the distance, neon signs and car headlights painting the streets in color. She liked it up here—it was quiet, a place where she could think.

She pulled the napkin from her pocket, smoothing it out against her knee. The words stared back at her, mocking.

“Yoona!”

She startled at the voice.

Bae Jinsol stood by the rooftop door, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. She wore an oversized hoodie that almost swallowed her whole, her short hair ruffled from the wind.

“What are you doing up here?” Jinsol asked as she walked over, plopping down beside Yoona.

Yoona hesitated before handing her the napkin. Jinsol took it, scanning the words. Her usual teasing expression softened.

She didn’t ask why. Instead, she simply said, “Okay.”

Yoona blinked. “Okay?”

Jinsol met her gaze, eyes steady. “If you only have a hundred days, then we’re going to make them count.” She tapped the first item. “We start tomorrow. Sunrise hike. I’ll pick you up at 3 AM.”

Yoona stared at her, searching for hesitation, for pity. But there was none.

For the first time since hearing the diagnosis, she felt something other than fear.

Hope.

Maybe one hundred days was enough.

—Day 2—

A sharp, persistent ringing filled the quiet of Yoona’s apartment, vibrating against the wooden nightstand. The phone screen lit up, Jinsol’s name flashing on the caller ID.

It rang once. Then twice. Then a third time.

No answer.

Outside, parked on the nearly empty street, Bae Jinsol leaned back in the driver’s seat of her beat-up car, exhaling sharply. The dashboard clock glowed 3:07 AM.

She had a feeling this would happen.

Tapping her fingers against the steering wheel, she tried calling again. Still no answer.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head before throwing her phone onto the passenger seat and stepping out of the car.

The apartment building was eerily quiet at this hour. Jinsol pulled her hoodie tighter around her, shivering slightly as she approached the entrance. She had been here enough times to know the door code by heart—Yoona had given it to her ages ago, probably forgetting she ever did.

Punching in the numbers, she slipped inside.

Yoona’s apartment was on the third floor. Jinsol took the stairs two at a time, her footsteps barely making a sound. When she reached the door, she knocked loudly.

Silence.

She knocked again. Harder.

Still nothing.

Jinsol rolled her eyes. So this is how we’re starting the 100 days, huh?

She grabbed the doorknob and twisted. Unlocked.

With a sigh, she pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit apartment. The place smelled like coffee and something faintly sweet—probably those vanilla candles Yoona always forgot to blow out.

Nothing had changed since the last time Jinsol had been here. The desk was still cluttered with books and half-written notes. The small kitchen counter had an abandoned cup of water. And in the corner, a single potted plant stood on the windowsill, looking half-dead from neglect.

Then, there was her.

Seol Yoona, sprawled out on the mattress, tangled in blankets, face buried in a pillow, completely dead to the world.

Jinsol crossed her arms, observing the scene. This girl has no shame.

Most people would be startled awake by a knock or the sound of a door opening, but not Yoona. No, Yoona could sleep through a literal earthquake if she wanted to.

Jinsol took a deep breath. Alright. Time to get her up.

She walked over and, without hesitation, yanked the blanket off her in one swift motion.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

Yoona groaned in protest, curling into herself like a cat avoiding responsibility. “What the—”

“Did you think I was joking?” Jinsol placed her hands on her hips. “I said 3 AM. It is now past 3 AM. Time to move.”

Yoona barely cracked open one eye. “No. Go away.”

Jinsol smirked. Wrong answer.

With zero hesitation, she grabbed Yoona’s wrist and yanked her upright. The sudden movement made Yoona yelp, eyes snapping open in confusion.

“What the hell, Jinsol—”

“No complaining,” Jinsol said, grinning. “You made the list. I’m just making sure you don’t waste a single day.”

Yoona squinted at her, still groggy. “You’re insane.”

Jinsol shrugged. “I prefer ‘dedicated.’”

Yoona groaned dramatically, rubbing her face with both hands. Her hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction, and there were faint creases on her cheek from the pillow.

“This is abuse,” she mumbled.

“This is helping you live your best life,” Jinsol corrected. Then she clapped her hands. “Now, get up and get dressed. We’re watching that sunrise whether you like it or not.”

Yoona grumbled something under her breath but slowly dragged herself out of bed. Her body still felt heavy with exhaustion, her brain refusing to catch up with reality.

“What time is it?” she asked, voice thick with sleep.

“3:10 AM,” Jinsol replied, glancing at her phone.

Yoona groaned again, looking like she wanted to throw herself back onto the mattress.

Jinsol grabbed her shoulders. “Uh-uh. You’re not going back to sleep.”

Yoona huffed dramatically but stomped toward the closet. “Fine, but if I die from exhaustion before my illness kills me, I’m blaming you.”

Jinsol chuckled, watching as Yoona half-heartedly grabbed a hoodie and leggings.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she teased.

As Yoona changed, Jinsol wandered into the kitchen, opening the fridge. There was barely anything inside—some water bottles, takeout containers, and a sad-looking carton of milk that she was definitely sure had expired.

She sighed. I should make her eat something later.

By the time Yoona emerged, dressed but still visibly half-asleep, Jinsol had already pulled out a pair of sneakers from the corner of the room. She held them out.

“Put these on. We’re leaving in two minutes.”

Yoona sluggishly took the shoes and sat down to put them on. “Where are we even going?”

Jinsol grinned. “To the mountains, obviously.”

Yoona froze mid-tie. “Wait. Mountains?”

“Did you forget your own list?” Jinsol pointed at her. “Item number one: watch a sunrise from the top of a mountain.”

Yoona groaned loudly. “I wrote that in a moment of weakness.”

“Well, lucky for you, I have zero weaknesses.” Jinsol patted her on the head. “Now, let’s go.”

Yoona muttered something about regretting everything but reluctantly grabbed her phone and followed Jinsol out the door.

As they stepped into the cool early morning air, Jinsol glanced at Yoona, taking in the slight pout on her lips and the way she shivered slightly against the cold.

She smirked. This is going to be fun.

The car rumbled softly as it cruised down the dark, nearly empty road. Outside, the city lights faded into the distance, replaced by long stretches of highway lined with trees. The only sounds were the faint hum of the engine and the occasional shuffle of Yoona shifting in her seat.

For the first ten minutes, she had tried to stay awake. She sat with her arms crossed, eyes half-open, pretending to be alert. But it didn’t take long before exhaustion caught up with her.

Her head would start tilting forward—then jerk back up.

Tilt. Jerk. Tilt. Jerk.

Jinsol watched out of the corner of her eye, biting back a smile.

“Yoona.”

“Mm?” Yoona’s voice was barely more than a mumble.

“You could just sleep, you know.”

“I’m awake,” she grumbled, shifting again.

Jinsol snorted. “Yeah? And I’m the Queen of England.”

Yoona hummed something unintelligible in response, her head tilting toward the window again. This time, she didn’t bother pretending. She let her cheek rest against the cool glass, exhaling softly.

Jinsol let her be.

She kept her focus on the road, but every so often, she stole a glance.

Yoona looked… peaceful.

Her dark hair was slightly messy from sleep, a few strands falling over her face. Her hoodie was oversized, making her look smaller than usual, the sleeves covering most of her hands. The faint rise and fall of her breathing was slow, steady.

Jinsol felt something tighten in her chest.

She felt bad—not just for waking Yoona up at this ridiculous hour, but for everything. For the way exhaustion clung to her like a second skin, for the way she tried so hard to act like nothing was wrong.

But Yoona didn’t want to be treated differently.

She didn’t want pity.

So Jinsol didn’t say anything.

Instead, she quietly reached over and turned up the car heater just a little, letting the warmth fill the space between them.

They drove like that for a while—Jinsol at the wheel, Yoona in a half-asleep state, the road stretching endlessly ahead of them.

At one point, Yoona shifted, curling slightly against the door. Her lips parted just a little, her breathing soft.

Jinsol glanced at her again.

She looked fragile like this. Like a porcelain doll that might shatter if handled too roughly.

Jinsol clenched her jaw and turned her gaze back to the road.

She wouldn’t let her shatter.

---

By the time they reached the base of the mountain, the sky had begun to shift—inky black fading into the faintest hints of dark blue.

Jinsol pulled into the small parking lot, turning off the engine.

She looked over at Yoona, who was still out cold, her arms now loosely wrapped around herself for warmth.

Jinsol hesitated.

She could let her sleep just a little longer. Maybe five more minutes.

But then she remembered why they were here.

With a smirk, she reached out and poked Yoona’s cheek.

“Yoona.”

No response.

Jinsol poked harder. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”

Yoona groaned, swatting at her hand without opening her eyes. “Go away.”

Jinsol grinned. “Can’t. We’re here.”

Yoona blinked blearily, her voice thick with sleep. “…We are?”

“Yep.” Jinsol unbuckled her seatbelt. “Time to climb.”

Yoona let out a long, dramatic groan, burying her face in her hoodie. “I’d rather die.”

Jinsol’s smirk faded.

She didn’t say anything right away—just stared at Yoona, watching as she yawned and stretched, completely unaware of what she had just said.

Yoona must have felt the change in the air because she frowned slightly, finally glancing over.

“…Oh,” she muttered. “I didn’t mean—”

Jinsol exhaled through her nose and forced a smirk. “That’s your one free pass. Next time, I’m making you hike with a backpack full of rocks.”

Yoona let out a sleepy chuckle as she rubbed her eyes. “Noted.”

Jinsol grabbed her hoodie from the backseat and tossed it at her. “Put this on. It’s colder up there.”

Yoona caught it, blinking. “What about you?”

“I don’t get cold,” Jinsol said, stepping out of the car.

Yoona huffed, mumbling something about unfair genetics, but she pulled on the hoodie anyway.

By the time she joined Jinsol outside, the first faint streaks of purple were beginning to creep into the horizon.

Jinsol stretched her arms, rolling her shoulders. “Alright. Let’s get going.”

Yoona sighed, stuffing her hands into the hoodie’s pockets. “If I pass out halfway, just leave me there.”

“No can do,” Jinsol said, flashing a grin. “I’m legally responsible for making sure you enjoy your 100 days. You’re stuck with me.”

Yoona looked at her, something flickering in her expression.

“…Lucky me,” she murmured.

Jinsol paused. For some reason, that made her chest feel a little tight.

But she didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she reached out and tugged Yoona forward by the sleeve.

“Come on,” she said. “You wanted a sunrise, right? Let’s go catch it.”

And with that, they started walking, side by side, up the mountain.

The first five minutes of hiking were fine. Yoona was still too sleepy to complain properly.

But by the tenth minute, the whining started.

“Who even wakes up this early?” she grumbled, dragging her feet along the dirt path. “Normal people are sleeping. I should be sleeping.”

Jinsol hummed in response but didn’t say much.

A few more steps.

Yoona sighed dramatically. “I’m seriously going to collapse. You’ll have to carry me back down.”

Jinsol snorted but kept walking.

A few more steps.

Yoona groaned again, her voice dragging. “This is cruel. This should be illegal. Hiking at four in the morning—do you hear yourself? Who even does this for fun?”

Jinsol bit back a grin. She had been waiting for this.

Instead of responding, she let the silence drag on for a few moments, then suddenly glanced over her shoulder.

Yoona stopped mid-complaint. “What?”

Jinsol squinted into the trees, her expression unreadable.

“…Nothing,” she said. “I just thought I saw something.”

Yoona stiffened. “What kind of something?”

Jinsol shrugged casually. “Dunno. Probably just an animal.”

She started walking again. Yoona, however, did not move.

“What kind of animal?” Yoona asked slowly.

Jinsol glanced at her. “You sure you wanna know?”

Yoona narrowed her eyes. “Tell me.”

Jinsol leaned in slightly. Lowered her voice.

“Well,” she started, “there’s this rumor that people who climb this trail at night sometimes see—” She paused, then suddenly gasped dramatically. “Oh my god, Yoona, look behind you—”

“Nope!”

Before Jinsol could finish, Yoona bolted forward and immediately latched onto Jinsol’s hoodie sleeve with both hands.

Jinsol burst out laughing.

Yoona scowled. “You suck. I hate you.”

“You’re literally clinging to me right now.”

“Because you’re the one who made me think something was following me!”

Jinsol wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, still laughing. “You’re so easy to mess with.”

Yoona huffed and tightened her grip on Jinsol’s sleeve. “Shut up. I’m holding onto you until we reach the top.”

Jinsol raised an eyebrow but didn’t shake her off.

Instead, she let her stay close.

The rest of the hike was filled with more complaints—"Why is the top so far?" "My legs hurt." "Are we sure we’re not lost?"—but Yoona never let go of Jinsol’s sleeve.

And Jinsol never made her.

By the time they reached the top, the sky had already begun to shift—deep indigo softening into shades of violet and blue. A faint golden glow stretched along the horizon, teasing the arrival of the sun.

Yoona, who had spent the entire hike grumbling, suddenly fell silent.

She took a slow step forward, her breath coming out in a quiet puff of air. The wind at the peak was cooler, brushing through her messy hair as she looked out at the world below.

The city felt so far away from up here.

Buildings looked tiny, their lights twinkling faintly in the early morning mist. The trees stretched endlessly, the tips of their leaves swaying gently under the dawn. And the sky—God, the sky—was turning into something out of a painting. A masterpiece unfolding in real time.

Yoona exhaled softly.

“…Wow.”

Jinsol watched quietly from behind her.

She had seen plenty of sunrises before. She had hiked this mountain before. She knew what to expect.

But she hadn’t expected this.

She hadn’t expected Yoona, standing there, bathed in golden light, eyes wide with something close to wonder.

Yoona looked… different like this.

Not tired. Not annoyed. Not pretending to be okay.

Just—present.

Jinsol leaned against a nearby rock, slipping her hands into her hoodie pockets.

She didn’t say anything. Didn’t tease. Didn’t crack a joke.

She just let Yoona take it all in.

After a few minutes, Yoona turned slightly, glancing at Jinsol over her shoulder.

She smiled.

It wasn’t a big, dramatic grin. It wasn’t her usual sarcastic smirk.

It was small, soft—almost shy.

Jinsol felt her chest tighten.

“…Thanks,” Yoona murmured.

Jinsol looked away, clearing her throat. “For what?”

Yoona turned back to the view. “For making me do this.”

Jinsol shrugged, trying to sound casual. “You put it on the list.”

“Yeah, but… I didn’t think I’d actually get to see it.”

The words were quiet, but Jinsol heard them.

She swallowed.

Then, without thinking, she reached out and tugged on Yoona’s sleeve—just once.

“You’ll see all of it,” Jinsol said, voice firm. “Everything on that list. I promise.”

Yoona glanced at her again.

For a moment, she just stared.

Then, slowly, she nodded.

And together, they watched the sun rise.

The sun had fully risen by now, casting a golden glow over everything. The sky was painted in soft pastels, and the morning breeze was crisp and cool.

Yoona stretched her arms over her head, exhaling deeply. "Alright, that was nice. Very pretty. Bucket list-worthy. Let’s go home."

Jinsol raised an eyebrow. "Just like that?"

Yoona turned to her with a deadpan expression. "Yes. I saw the sunrise. Mission accomplished. Time to leave."

Jinsol smirked. "You do realize we have to go down the mountain, right?"

Yoona blinked. Then groaned loudly, slouching as if the mere thought drained all her remaining energy.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Jinsol snickered, stretching her legs. "What? You thought we’d just teleport back?"

"Yes, actually. That would be ideal," Yoona muttered, rubbing her thighs. "My legs feel like jelly. They’re literally shaking."

Jinsol tilted her head, feigning sympathy. "Wow. Who could’ve guessed that climbing a mountain would make your legs tired?"

Yoona shot her a glare. "I hate you."

Jinsol grinned. "That’s, like, the third time you’ve said that today."

"Because it’s true," Yoona huffed. "How the hell am I supposed to go down? My legs are weak. What if I fall? What if I roll all the way down? What if—"

Jinsol cut her off by crouching down in front of her.

Yoona blinked. "…What are you doing?"

Jinsol patted her own back. "Get on."

Yoona stared. "Excuse me?"

Jinsol turned her head slightly, smirking. "You heard me. If you’re that weak, I’ll carry you."

Yoona scoffed, crossing her arms. "As if I’d let you do that."

Jinsol shrugged. "Suit yourself. But if you start rolling down the mountain, I’m not stopping you."

Yoona opened her mouth to argue, then closed it.

She looked down at her legs. They were trembling a little. And the thought of falling down an entire mountain wasn’t exactly appealing.

She hesitated.

Jinsol, sensing the internal struggle, smirked. "Just swallow your pride and get on."

Yoona groaned, running a hand through her hair. "I swear if you drop me—"

"I won’t," Jinsol said, her voice softer this time. "Just trust me."

Yoona hesitated for another second, then finally sighed.

Reluctantly, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Jinsol’s shoulders.

Jinsol easily hooked her arms under Yoona’s legs, standing up effortlessly as if she weighed nothing.

Yoona tensed. "Oh, shit—"

Jinsol laughed. "Relax. I’ve got you."

Yoona huffed, resting her chin on Jinsol’s shoulder. "...This is so embarrassing."

Jinsol grinned. "Nah. It’s kinda cute."

Yoona froze.

Jinsol didn’t give her time to respond—she just started walking, carrying Yoona all the way down the mountain.

Jinsol had carried a lot of things in her life—backpacks, groceries, drunk friends after a night out. But carrying Yoona was different.

It wasn’t just the physical weight of her. It was the way Yoona clung to her.

Her arms wrapped around Jinsol’s shoulders, fingers loosely curled into the fabric of her hoodie. Her chin rested lightly on Jinsol’s shoulder, and every so often, Jinsol could feel Yoona shift slightly—adjusting her grip, tightening her hold.

And for some reason, Jinsol loved it.

She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because Yoona was always so independent, so stubborn about doing things on her own. But here, she let herself rely on Jinsol.

And that did something to Jinsol’s chest.

She walked at a steady pace, making sure not to jostle Yoona too much.

Yoona, despite all her earlier complaining, had now fully embraced being carried.

She had stopped sulking and instead started pointing things out as they made their way down the trail.

“Oh! Look, a bird!” Yoona said, her voice laced with childlike excitement.

Jinsol glanced in the direction Yoona was pointing and hummed in acknowledgment. “Mm.”

A few steps later—

“Hey, that butterfly is huge,” Yoona said, shifting slightly to get a better look.

Jinsol hummed again. “Mm.”

Another few steps—

“That tree looks like it’s staring at us,” Yoona muttered.

Jinsol let out a soft chuckle but still responded the same way. “Mm.”

Yoona pouted. “Are you even listening?”

Jinsol tilted her head slightly, smirking. “I’ve acknowledged everything you’ve said.”

“Yeah, but you keep saying the same thing,” Yoona grumbled, adjusting her grip on Jinsol’s hoodie.

Jinsol hummed again—on purpose.

Yoona groaned. “Ugh, you’re impossible.”

Jinsol just grinned, her grip on Yoona’s legs tightening slightly. “And yet, you’re still holding onto me.”

Yoona opened her mouth to argue—then closed it.

She buried her face in Jinsol’s shoulder instead.

“…Shut up,” she mumbled.

Jinsol just laughed, the sound warm and full, as they continued their descent.

Jinsol picked a small, quiet restaurant for breakfast—nothing fancy, just a cozy place with warm lighting and the smell of fresh broth in the air.

Yoona had barely protested when Jinsol dragged her inside, half-asleep and too tired to argue.

Now, she sat across from Jinsol, stirring her soup absentmindedly. The steam curled up around her face, but she didn’t seem to notice. She had barely taken a few bites, despite complaining about being hungry earlier.

Jinsol watched her for a moment, then leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Alright. What’s up?”

Yoona blinked. “What?”

“You look upset.”

Yoona scoffed lightly, playing with the edge of her spoon. “I’m fine.”

Jinsol tilted her head. “You’re not eating. You’re spacing out. And your face looks like a kicked puppy.”

Yoona sighed. “Wow. Thanks.”

Jinsol leaned back, crossing her arms. “So? What’s wrong?”

Yoona hesitated, then set her spoon down.

She stared into her bowl for a long moment before finally muttering, “I don’t think doing all this is worth it.”

Jinsol’s expression flickered, just for a second. “…What do you mean?”

Yoona exhaled sharply, pushing her hair back. “This list. These things. Seeing a sunrise, going on trips, trying new things—it’s all nice, sure. But at the end of the day, what does it change?” She glanced up at Jinsol, her eyes tired. “I’m still sick. I’m still dying. No amount of bucket list adventures is gonna change that.”

Jinsol was silent for a moment.

She tapped her fingers against the table, thinking. Then, slowly, she reached for her spoon and took a sip of her own soup.

After swallowing, she finally spoke.

“…You’re right.”

Yoona blinked. “…What?”

Jinsol shrugged. “You’re right. Doing all this won’t change the fact that you’re sick.”

Yoona frowned slightly. She had expected Jinsol to argue, to convince her otherwise. But instead—

“But,” Jinsol continued, setting her spoon down, “if none of it matters in the end, then doesn’t that mean you should just do whatever makes you happy?”

Yoona stared.

Jinsol tilted her head. “You can sit around waiting for the end, or you can use the time you have to do something. Even if it’s small. Even if it doesn’t change anything. At least, in those moments, you get to feel alive.”

Yoona swallowed.

Jinsol leaned forward again, resting her arms on the table. “So tell me, Yoona—did you feel nothing when you saw the sunrise?”

Yoona opened her mouth—then closed it.

She thought back to that morning. The way the sky had shifted colors. The quiet peace of it all. The way she had smiled without thinking.

Jinsol must’ve noticed her hesitation because she smirked slightly. “Thought so.”

Yoona scowled. “Shut up.”

Jinsol grinned and picked up her spoon again. “Eat your soup.”

Yoona huffed but finally took a bite.

It was warm. Comforting. And, despite herself, she felt a little better.

—Day 9—

Yoona had just rolled out of bed, still half-asleep and grumbling about how "weekends should be sacred and free from all human interaction," when Jinsol practically slammed an envelope down onto the table in front of her.

Yoona blinked at it. Then at Jinsol, who was grinning like she had just won the lottery.

“…What is this?” Yoona asked, rubbing her eyes.

“Open it.”

Yoona narrowed her eyes. Jinsol’s face was way too smug for comfort.

Suspicious, she grabbed the envelope and slowly peeled it open. Inside, she found—

A plane ticket.

Her brain took a second to process the words printed on it.

Then she froze.

"Wait."

Jinsol’s grin widened.

Yoona’s eyes snapped up to meet hers. "No way."

"Yes way."

"Jinsol." Yoona slapped the ticket onto the table. "This is a flight to Rome."

Jinsol nodded, as if that wasn’t a huge freaking deal. "Mhm."

"You—" Yoona rubbed her temples, trying to breathe. "Tell me you didn’t actually—"

"Oh, I did," Jinsol cut in, looking way too proud of herself. "Flights, hotel, everything’s booked."

Yoona gawked. "You’re joking."

Jinsol shrugged. "Nope."

"You—" Yoona stood up so fast that her chair nearly fell over. "You actually bought tickets to Italy?!"

"Yeah."

"You actually booked a whole damn trip?"

"Yup."

"For both of us?"

Jinsol raised an eyebrow. "Did you think I’d send you alone?"

Yoona opened her mouth. Then closed it. She had no words.

Sure, Jinsol had always been a little reckless. But this?

Yoona knew Jinsol’s family was rich—she had always thrown that fact around casually, never really making a big deal out of it. But to just buy two international flight tickets like it was nothing? That was insane.

And yet, here she was, holding a first-class ticket to freaking Italy.

Yoona let out a deep sigh, sinking back into her chair. "Jinsol, I swear to God—"

Jinsol grinned and threw an arm around Yoona’s shoulders. "You put ‘travel to a new country’ on your bucket list."

"Yeah, but I meant something simple! Like Japan! Or Taiwan!" Yoona groaned, running a hand down her face. "Not freaking Italy!"

Jinsol laughed, kicking back in her chair. "Too late. Everything’s set. We leave in three days."

"Three—" Yoona nearly choked. "You’re telling me this now?!"

Jinsol shrugged. "Would you have agreed if I told you earlier?"

Yoona opened her mouth—then closed it.

Damn it. She wouldn’t have.

Jinsol smirked. "That’s what I thought."

Yoona let out another long, suffering sigh. "You’re the worst."

"And yet, you’re still going," Jinsol pointed out, patting Yoona’s head.

Yoona huffed. But she didn’t deny it.

—Day 12—

Three days later, they were in an airport, boarding a flight to Rome.

Even as they walked through the terminal, Yoona still couldn’t believe this was happening.

Sure, she had always wanted to travel. But she never thought she actually would—not with the way things were going.

She glanced at Jinsol, who was casually rolling their suitcases toward check-in, looking completely unbothered.

Yoona sighed. Of course, Jinsol was acting like this was just another road trip.

“Are you still freaking out?” Jinsol asked, shooting her a knowing smirk.

Yoona huffed. “This is a whole international trip. I think I have the right to freak out.”

Jinsol snorted. “You’ll be fine.”

Yoona crossed her arms. “What if I get lost? What if I get kidnapped? What if—”

“I’ll be there,” Jinsol said, cutting her off effortlessly. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

Yoona paused.

Jinsol said it so easily, so confidently, like it was just a simple fact of life—like there was no universe where she would let anything happen to Yoona.

Yoona swallowed.

“…You’re way too reckless with your money,” she muttered instead.

Jinsol grinned, slinging an arm around her shoulders again as they walked toward security. “And yet, here you are, reaping the benefits.”

Yoona rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

By the time they landed in Rome, it was late in the evening.

The air felt different the moment they stepped out of the airport. Warmer, filled with the scent of street food and the distant hum of Italian being spoken all around them.

The city was still alive, golden streetlights glowing over cobblestone roads. Even in the darkness, Yoona could see the hints of ancient buildings, the stunning architecture that made Rome so famous.

She had seen pictures of Italy before. But actually being here—

She turned to Jinsol, still a little dazed. “This is… insane.”

Jinsol smirked. “Still think it’s a bad idea?”

Yoona looked back at the city.

She had been hesitant. She had fought Jinsol on this.

But standing here now, with the entire country in front of her, waiting to be explored—

Yoona took a slow breath.

“…No,” she admitted softly.

Jinsol’s smirk widened. “Told you.”

Yoona rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

Maybe—just maybe—this trip wouldn’t be so bad.

—Day 13—

The morning air in Rome was crisp, carrying the scent of fresh bread and espresso as the city slowly woke up. They had found a cozy little café near Piazza Navona, one of those charming, tucked-away places with round metal tables and wooden chairs on the sidewalk.

Yoona absentmindedly stirred her coffee, her spoon clinking softly against the porcelain cup. Her gaze was fixed on the street, where couples strolled hand in hand, stopping occasionally to take pictures or steal quiet moments together.

Jinsol, who had been scrolling through her phone, glanced up and noticed the distant look on Yoona’s face. "You good?"

Yoona sighed, resting her chin on her palm. "Did you know Rome is often called the City of Love?"

Jinsol raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure that’s Paris."

"Yeah, but Rome too," Yoona insisted, still staring at the people passing by. "It’s got history, charm, all those romantic streets and fountains… it’s a place for lovers."

Jinsol hummed, taking a sip of her coffee. "Huh. Didn’t know that."

Yoona leaned back in her chair, staring up at the sky as she groaned. "And yet, here I am. In one of the most romantic cities in the world."

Jinsol smirked. "With me."

Yoona immediately turned to glare at her. "That’s exactly the problem."

Jinsol gasped, placing a hand on her chest as if Yoona had just wounded her deeply. "Excuse me? Are you saying I’m not an excellent romantic travel companion?"

"You are the worst romantic companion," Yoona said flatly, taking a sip of her coffee.

Jinsol scoffed. "Wow. Rude."

Yoona ignored her. "I mean, look around." She gestured vaguely at the street, where couples were giggling over shared pastries, leaning into each other on benches, sneaking kisses in the shade of old stone buildings. "People toss coins into the Trevi Fountain together, they share gelato, they walk under the stars—and meanwhile, I’m stuck here with you."

She let out a deep, suffering sigh and dropped her head onto the table dramatically. "What a tragic love story."

Jinsol chuckled, watching Yoona with amusement. "You’re so dramatic."

"Am I wrong?" Yoona mumbled into the table.

Jinsol leaned back in her chair, looking at her thoughtfully. "Maybe."

Yoona lifted her head slightly, furrowing her brows. "Huh?"

Jinsol tilted her head, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Who says you need to be here with someone you love?" She lifted her cup, blowing gently on her coffee before adding, "Maybe love is something you find while you're here."

Yoona blinked.

Something about the way Jinsol said it—so effortlessly, so casually—made her stomach flip for a second.

She quickly shook her head. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, poet. Just let me sulk in peace."

Jinsol just smiled, resting her chin on her hand as she watched Yoona pout into her coffee.

She didn’t say it out loud, but deep down, she had a feeling—

Rome wasn’t the only thing Yoona was going to fall for on this trip.

The streets stretched like veins, pulsing with life. The city hummed with an energy that felt both ancient and alive, as if every stone had a story to whisper, every alleyway held a secret. The sun dipped low, casting long shadows over cobblestone roads, and the air smelled of espresso, warm bread, and something distinctly foreign yet intoxicating.

And amidst all of it—there was Jinsol.

Somehow, despite the towering ruins and centuries-old cathedrals, she was the thing that kept catching Yoona’s attention.

It was annoying. It was stupid.

And yet, no matter how much she told herself to focus on the beauty of Rome, her eyes always found their way back to her.

It wasn’t just the way Jinsol walked—confident, like she belonged anywhere she set foot. It wasn’t just the way she carried their bags without being asked, or how she instinctively guided Yoona through crowds with a firm but casual grip on her wrist.

It was the little things.

The way Jinsol, despite claiming she wasn’t a romantic, always positioned herself on the outer edge of the sidewalk, like an unspoken shield against passing cars.

The way she remembered that Yoona liked her coffee sweet, slipping extra sugar packets across the café table without a word.

The way she bought two flavors of gelato because she knew Yoona would steal a bite of hers, even after insisting she didn’t want any.

And the way she looked at Yoona sometimes—not directly, not obviously, but in those fleeting moments when she thought Yoona wasn’t paying attention.

Like right now.

They were standing at the Trevi Fountain, the water shimmering under the Roman sun, coins glinting like tiny wishes waiting to be fulfilled.

"Are we doing this or what?" Yoona asked, shaking a coin in her palm.

Jinsol smirked. "Didn’t take you for the superstitious type."

Yoona shrugged. "Might as well. We’re already here."

Jinsol chuckled, fishing a coin from her pocket before handing one to Yoona. "Alright. Make a wish."

Yoona closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the small metal disc pressed between her fingertips.

She could have wished for anything. More time, less pain. A miracle.

But instead, one thought surfaced—quiet, dangerous, unshakable.

I hope these days never end.

Her chest tightened. She tossed the coin in before she could second-guess herself.

When she turned back, Jinsol was already watching her.

Yoona frowned. "What?"

Jinsol’s lips curled up in that infuriating way of hers. "Nothing."

Liar.

Yoona huffed and turned away, but her fingers curled tighter around the hem of her coat, trying to ignore the way her heart was beating too fast.

—

Sunset draped Rome in fire.

The sky stretched out in hues of rose and tangerine, soft clouds drifting lazily over the ancient city. They had wandered up to one of the highest viewpoints, the city unfolding before them like a masterpiece on canvas.

Yoona leaned against the stone railing, exhaling slowly.

"It’s beautiful," she murmured, watching as the last of the sun bled into the horizon.

"Yeah," Jinsol said softly.

But when Yoona turned to look at her, Jinsol wasn’t looking at the view.

She was looking at her.

Yoona’s breath caught for a second. The air felt thicker, heavier, and suddenly, she wasn’t sure if it was the city making her heart race like this—or if it was Jinsol.

"What?" she asked, voice quieter than she meant it to be.

Jinsol just smiled, something undeniably fond in her expression. She bumped their shoulders together. "Nothing."

Liar.

Yoona swallowed and quickly turned back to the view, forcing herself to look anywhere but at Jinsol.

This was just a trip.

Just a bucket list adventure.

So why did it suddenly feel like something more?

—Day 14—

The morning in Rome was softer today. The sky, pale blue and cloudless, stretched endlessly over the rooftops, and the streets bustled with a familiar, rhythmic hum—vendors calling out in Italian, footsteps echoing against cobblestones, the distant melody of a street musician playing the violin.

Yoona walked beside Jinsol, still shaking off the remnants of sleep. Despite the countless coffee stops, her body was still heavy with exhaustion. But Jinsol? Jinsol was tireless.

“Where to today?” Yoona yawned, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets.

Jinsol pulled out her phone, scrolling through the list of places they had yet to visit. “We missed the Pantheon yesterday,” she said, glancing over. “You up for it?”

Yoona nodded, though a part of her wondered how she’d survive another day of walking. Jinsol, ever perceptive, must have caught the hesitation, because she tilted her head. “Too tired? We can take it slow.”

The concern in her voice made Yoona’s stomach flip. She quickly shook her head. “Nope. I’m good.”

Jinsol gave her a look—one of those unreadable ones—but didn’t argue.

They made their way toward the Pantheon, the streets winding around them like a labyrinth of history and life. The morning air was cool, brushing against Yoona’s skin as she tried to focus on the world around her.

But once again, her mind kept drifting to Jinsol.

To the way Jinsol walked slightly ahead, making sure Yoona could keep up.
To the way she occasionally glanced over, checking without asking.
To the way she made Yoona feel like she never had to ask for anything—because Jinsol already knew.

It was annoying. It was stupid.

And yet, her heart wouldn’t stop fluttering.

—

The moment happened so fast, Yoona barely processed it.

One second, they were walking through the bustling streets near the Pantheon, the sun warm against their backs. The next, a scooter sped past them, far too close for comfort, the sound of its engine roaring in her ears.

Before Yoona could react, Jinsol’s arm wrapped around her.

It wasn’t just a reflex. It wasn’t just a casual grab.

Jinsol pulled her in, completely, protectively, instinctively.

Yoona found herself against Jinsol’s side, the warmth of her coat pressing into her cheek, the scent of her cologne—subtle, crisp, something distinctly her—filling the space between them.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Yoona felt weightless.

Safe.

Jinsol let out a breath. “Damn. That guy was reckless.”

Yoona blinked up at her.

Jinsol’s jaw was tight, her arm still firm around Yoona’s shoulders. She hadn’t let go yet.

Yoona’s heart wasn’t beating normally anymore.

She should move. She should say something. But her body refused to listen.

She swallowed. “Uh… You can let go now.”

Jinsol blinked, as if realizing she was still holding her. Then—instead of immediately letting go—she smirked.

“Oh? You don’t like this?”

Yoona absolutely did not.

Or maybe she did.

She shoved at Jinsol’s arm, stepping away before her face betrayed her. “Shut up.”

Jinsol only chuckled, slipping her hands back into her coat pockets as they continued walking.

Yoona, on the other hand, had to actively stop herself from touching her own chest—just to check if her heart was still in place.

The evening air in Rome was laced with warmth, carrying the scent of fresh basil and roasting chestnuts as the city transitioned from day to night. Streetlights flickered on one by one, casting a golden glow over cobblestone streets. The gentle hum of conversations, the distant clinking of wine glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter filled the atmosphere.

Yoona stretched as they arrived at their hotel, feeling the ache in her legs from walking all day. “Can’t believe you dragged me all over Rome just to almost get me killed by a scooter.”

Jinsol, already unlocking their hotel room, snorted. “I saved your life, actually.”

Yoona rolled her eyes, stepping inside. The room was elegant—cream-colored walls, velvet curtains, and a king-sized bed that looked ridiculously comfortable. She sighed in relief, flopping onto it instantly. “God, I’m never moving again.”

Jinsol tossed her coat over a chair and checked her phone. “Well, that’s too bad.”

Yoona peeked up at her. “Why?”

Jinsol smirked, turning toward the closet. “Because I made dinner reservations.”

Yoona groaned. “Can’t we just order room service?”

“Nope,” Jinsol said simply. She walked over to her suitcase and pulled out a neatly folded black dress, tossing it onto the bed beside Yoona. “Put this on.”

Yoona sat up slowly, picking up the dress. It was elegant, the kind of thing someone would wear to a fancy restaurant.

She frowned. “Uh. Why?”

Jinsol leaned against the dresser, arms crossed. “Because I said so.”

“That’s not a reason.”

Jinsol tilted her head, her smirk deepening. “Would you believe me if I said it’s a secret?”

Yoona narrowed her eyes at her. “A secret?”

“Yep.”

Yoona scoffed. “You’re being weird.”

Jinsol shrugged. “Maybe.”

Despite herself, Yoona felt her curiosity growing. What was Jinsol up to? She glanced back down at the dress, running her fingers over the fabric.

“…Fine,” she muttered.

Jinsol grinned, pushing off the dresser. “Good. Be ready in thirty minutes.”

As Jinsol disappeared into the bathroom, Yoona sighed and stood up, holding the dress against her body.

What the hell is she planning?

—

Thirty minutes later, they stood outside the hotel, waiting for a cab.

Yoona tugged at the hem of her dress, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “I swear, if you’re taking me somewhere weird—”

Jinsol, dressed in a sleek black suit, turned to her with a smirk. “Relax. You look great.”

Yoona blinked, caught off guard.

Jinsol said it so casually, so effortlessly, like it was just a fact.

Yoona quickly looked away, her face warming. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Jinsol chuckled but didn’t say anything else.

When the cab arrived, Jinsol opened the door for her, motioning for her to get in first. Yoona hesitated for a split second before sliding in, her heart strangely unsettled.

—

The restaurant was beautiful.

Candles flickered softly on white tablecloths, and the low hum of an Italian love song played in the background. The large windows framed a breathtaking view of the city, the lights of Rome sparkling against the night sky.

Yoona sat down, still confused. “Okay, seriously. What’s the occasion?”

Jinsol poured them both a glass of wine before answering. “No occasion. Just wanted to do something nice.”

Yoona frowned. “You? Doing something nice?”

Jinsol laughed. “Wow. I do nice things all the time.”

Yoona crossed her arms. “Yeah? Name one.”

Jinsol leaned back, grinning. “I took you to Rome, didn’t I?”

Yoona opened her mouth to argue—but then shut it. Damn it.

“…Fine,” she muttered, taking a sip of her wine.

Jinsol just smiled.

As the evening went on, Yoona found herself relaxing. The food was incredible, the atmosphere warm, and Jinsol—annoyingly enough—was actually great company.

She laughed more than she expected to. And at some point, she realized—this didn’t feel like just another item on her bucket list.

It felt like something else entirely.

Something dangerous.

Something that made her heart feel a little too light.

And when Jinsol looked at her—really looked at her, with that small, knowing smile—Yoona suddenly felt like she was standing on the edge of something.

Something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

The night air in Rome was softer than before, carrying the scent of aged stone, blooming jasmine, and the faint trace of espresso lingering from the cafes that had yet to close. The streets had quieted—most of the tourists had returned to their hotels, leaving the city bathed in a kind of peaceful stillness.

Yoona and Jinsol walked side by side, their footsteps falling into an easy rhythm.

The dinner had been… nice. Nicer than Yoona had expected.

And now, instead of rushing back, they were simply walking. No set destination, no rush. Just them and the city breathing around them.

Yoona exhaled slowly, tilting her head up to the sky. “The stars look different here.”

Jinsol hummed in agreement. “Everything looks different when you’re somewhere new.”

Yoona thought about that for a moment. “Do you think… people look different too?”

Jinsol glanced over at her. “What do you mean?”

Yoona hesitated. “Like… do you think we see people differently depending on where we are? If we were back home, would—” She stopped herself, suddenly unsure where that thought was going.

Would I still be looking at you like this?

Would you still be looking at me like that?

She shook her head, brushing it off with a small laugh. “Never mind. I’m just saying weird things.”

Jinsol didn’t press, but she was still watching her—quiet, knowing.

They turned a corner, and the view opened up to a small bridge overlooking the river. The water reflected the golden glow of the streetlights, rippling gently under the night breeze.

Yoona leaned against the railing, sighing. “I could stay here forever.”

Jinsol smirked. “Not possible.”

“Why not?”

“Because we have a hundred days.”

Yoona turned to look at her. Jinsol’s expression was unreadable, but there was something in her voice—something that made Yoona’s heart tighten.

A hundred days.

That number sat heavy between them, a reminder that no matter how beautiful the city was, no matter how much time felt like it was standing still tonight—it wasn’t.

Yoona exhaled, looking back at the water. “Right.”

They kept walking, the weight of unspoken words settling into the quiet between them. But the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it was… warm.

Yoona didn’t realize when it happened.

When Jinsol’s hand found hers.

Or when her own fingers curled naturally around it.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t intentional. It wasn’t something either of them even acknowledged.

It just was.

Like it had always been meant to happen. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And for once, Yoona didn’t question it. She just let it happen.

—

The moment the plane landed in Seoul, everything felt colder.

Not just because they had left behind the warmth of Rome, where the sun kissed the streets golden, where time had moved at a different pace—but because reality came back like a tidal wave.

Jinsol was swept up in it instantly.

The moment they passed through airport security, her phone lit up with notifications—missed calls, emails, unread messages, all demanding her attention. The world she had momentarily stepped away from had been waiting for her, and it wasted no time pulling her back.

Yoona watched as Jinsol answered a call right there in the arrivals hall, already slipping into that cool, polished tone she always used when she was handling business.

And just like that, the space between them started growing.

—

One week passed.

Then another.

Yoona tried not to care.

She told herself it was fine. Jinsol had her own life, her own responsibilities. They were never supposed to spend every second together anyway.

So she went back to her old routine—waking up late, grabbing coffee from her usual café, watching movies alone, scrolling through her phone at night with the TV playing in the background.

It was fine.

Except… it wasn’t.

Not when every little thing reminded her of those days.

She would catch herself reaching for her phone, expecting a message from Jinsol asking what she wanted to do today. But there was nothing.

She would pass by a bakery, see a display of pastries, and think about that one time in Rome when Jinsol had ordered something ridiculous off the menu just to make her laugh.

She would see couples walking together, holding hands like it was the easiest thing in the world, and feel a strange, empty ache in her chest.

She hated it.

Hated that her life felt too quiet now.

Hated that Jinsol had made her forget—just for a little while—that time was running out.

Hated that two weeks had gone by and Jinsol hadn’t even noticed she was waiting.

—

Jinsol was drowning in work.

Meeting after meeting. Event after event. Responsibilities stacked up like an avalanche, leaving her no time to breathe, let alone think about anything else.

She kept telling herself—just one more weekend.

One more weekend, and then she would call Yoona.

One more weekend, and then they could pick up where they left off.

But time didn’t stop for her.

Before she knew it, two weeks had passed.

And when she finally sat down one night, exhausted, phone in hand, staring at Yoona’s name on her contact list—something clenched in her chest.

Had she really let that much time slip away?

Had she really let the silence between them stretch this far?

She wasn’t sure why, but suddenly… it scared her.

Like if she waited any longer, something might change.

Like if she didn’t reach out now, Yoona might stop waiting.

And the thought of that felt worse than anything else.

—Day 30—

Jinsol exhaled as she finally stepped out of the office, the cold evening air brushing against her skin. The weight of the past few weeks—meetings, deadlines, endless conversations that drained her—lingered, but for the first time in a while, she didn’t feel trapped under it.

She was finally done.

She had spent the last thirty days drowning in work, letting time slip through her fingers without realizing how much space it had put between her and Yoona.

Now, standing outside, her phone in hand, she finally let herself breathe.

There was only one thing left to do.

She pulled up Yoona’s contact and pressed call.

—

Yoona was curled up on her couch, flipping through TV channels without really paying attention. The days had blurred together lately—waking up, doing whatever she could to pass the time, falling asleep, repeating.

The bucket list had been at a standstill for two weeks now.

Not that it mattered.

Not that she had been waiting.

Her phone rang, cutting through the silence. She glanced at the screen, expecting just another random notification—

And froze.

Jinsol.

For a second, she just stared at the name, her heart hammering in her chest. Then, before she could think too much, she answered.

“…Hello?”

“Hey,” Jinsol’s voice came through, warm and familiar, like she had never been gone. “What are you doing?”

Yoona blinked, thrown off by the casual tone. After two weeks of nothing, this was how she was going to start?

“I don’t know,” Yoona muttered, turning off the TV. “Why?”

Jinsol’s voice softened. “Wanna go out?”

Yoona scoffed. “Oh, so now you remember me?”

Jinsol chuckled. “I never forgot.”

The way she said it—so easily, like it was a fact—made something tighten in Yoona’s chest.

She wanted to be mad. She wanted to tell Jinsol that she had disappeared, that she had left her alone with nothing but silence and memories of Rome.

But instead, she found herself sighing.

“What’s the plan?” she asked, leaning back against the couch.

Jinsol hummed. “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

Yoona rolled her eyes. “What if I say no?”

“You won’t.”

Damn it. She was right.

Yoona bit her lip, shaking her head. “…Fine. But you better make it worth my time.”

Jinsol’s smile was almost audible through the phone. “Don’t worry. I will.”

And just like that—it began again.

The doorbell rang.

Yoona stretched lazily, pulling herself off the couch. She had barely gotten ready—just threw on a sweater and jeans, not really knowing what Jinsol had planned.

When she opened the door, the sight in front of her made her pause.

Jinsol stood there, still dressed in her office outfit—white button-up, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, black slacks perfectly fitted, her watch still snug around her wrist.

It was obvious.

She had come straight from work. No stops. No detours.

Just straight to her.

Yoona leaned against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow. “You look like a business drama protagonist.”

Jinsol smirked, tilting her head. “Is that a compliment?”

“Debatable.”

Jinsol chuckled, but Yoona noticed the way her shoulders relaxed. Like just seeing Yoona was enough to lift some of the weight off.

“You gonna let me in, or are we standing here all night?” Jinsol asked.

Yoona scoffed but stepped aside. “Fine. But only because you look like you haven’t eaten a real meal in days.”

Jinsol walked in, glancing around like it was the first time she had been here in years—even though it had only been a few weeks.

Yoona closed the door, watching her. “So? What’s the grand plan? Are we crossing something off the bucket list, or are you just here to look pretty in my living room?”

Jinsol turned to her, something unreadable in her gaze. “No bucket list today.”

Yoona frowned. “Then what?”

Jinsol exhaled. “I just wanted to see you.”

The words were simple. But for some reason, they made Yoona’s heart stutter.

She clicked her tongue, crossing her arms. “Took you long enough.”

Jinsol’s lips quirked up. “Yeah.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was heavy with something else. Something neither of them wanted to say out loud just yet.

Finally, Jinsol broke the silence. “Wanna get out of here?”

Yoona eyed her suspiciously. “Where?”

Jinsol shrugged. “Wherever you want.”

Yoona thought about it. She thought about the past two weeks—how everything had felt dull, how she had convinced herself she didn’t care.

Then she looked at Jinsol, standing there like she had never been gone, and realized how much she had missed this.

“…Fine,” she muttered, grabbing her jacket. “But I’m picking the place.”

Jinsol smiled. “Of course.”

And just like that, they walked out together—as if nothing had changed.

Even though, deep down, they both knew everything had.

The city lights flickered past in a blur as Jinsol drove, her fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. The air inside the car was quiet, save for the soft hum of the engine and the faint sound of music playing from the radio. It should have been comfortable—like old times.

But something felt off.

Jinsol glanced at Yoona from the corner of her eye.

She was slumped slightly against the window, her cheek resting against the cool glass. Her fingers moved idly against her temple, massaging the space between her brows, like she was trying to chase away a headache that wouldn’t leave.

Then came the cough.

Soft, but persistent.

At first, Jinsol thought she imagined it. But then it happened again—this time deeper, harsher. Yoona covered her mouth, her shoulders trembling slightly from the force of it.

Jinsol’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“You okay?” she asked, forcing her voice to sound casual.

Yoona waved a hand dismissively, her voice slightly hoarse. “Yeah. Just a headache.”

Jinsol didn’t believe her.

Not when she could see how pale she looked under the dim glow of the dashboard lights. Not when she noticed the way her body seemed heavier than usual—like she was exhausted down to her bones.

Not when the coughing came again, sharp enough to make Yoona’s whole body tense.

Jinsol exhaled, trying to keep her frustration in check. “Did you take anything for it?”

Yoona sighed, tilting her head back against the headrest. “I took some medicine earlier. It’ll pass.”

Jinsol’s jaw clenched.

She wanted to believe her. Wanted to accept the easy answer and pretend like nothing was wrong.

But she couldn’t.

Not when she had seen this pattern before.

The exhaustion that seemed to cling to Yoona more often these days. The way her body betrayed her with small signs—shallow breaths, a lingering cough, the way she winced when she thought no one was looking.

Jinsol noticed. She always did.

And it scared her.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, focusing on the road. But the words were already forming in her mind, sharp and unrelenting.

“If it gets worse, we’re going to the hospital,” she said finally, her voice quieter than before.

Yoona turned her head slowly, giving her a tired glare. “You really know how to ruin a night out.”

Jinsol didn’t even try to smirk. “I’m serious, Yoona.”

Yoona held her gaze for a second—too long. Long enough for something to pass between them, heavy and unspoken.

Then she sighed, looking away. “I know.”

Jinsol hated this.

Hated that their conversations always led back to this. Hated that she had to measure their time together not in months or years, but in days.

Hated that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t protect Yoona from this.

The silence stretched between them.

It wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy. A reminder of the things they didn’t want to say out loud.

Jinsol swallowed, forcing herself to push past it. She turned up the volume on the radio slightly, hoping to break the tension.

Yoona let out a small laugh, her voice quieter than before. “You’re really bad at changing the mood, you know that?”

Jinsol smirked, glancing at her briefly. “And yet you’re still here.”

Yoona rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

Jinsol reached out, fingers brushing against Yoona’s hand for just a second before pulling away. It was small—barely anything. But the warmth lingered.

Neither of them acknowledged it.

But for now, that was enough.

—Day 34—

Jinsol should have seen it coming.

Yoona had been quieter than usual that day, her steps slower, her smile a little weaker. When they stood in line at the café, she kept shifting her weight from one foot to the other, like standing for too long was exhausting.

Jinsol noticed. Of course, she noticed.

But before she could say anything, Yoona was already brushing it off—grumbling about the long line, joking about how this was a waste of their time.

And then—

Her body swayed.

Jinsol barely had a second to react before Yoona’s legs gave out completely.

Her heart stopped.

She reached out, catching her just before she hit the floor, her arms wrapping around Yoona’s waist.

“Yoona—? Hey! Yoona!”

She was too still.

Jinsol’s pulse roared in her ears as she gently lowered Yoona to the floor. She brushed her hair away from her face, tapping her cheek lightly.

No response.

Her breaths were shallow, her skin too cold.

People around them started murmuring. Someone asked if they needed help. Another voice—distant, far away—said they should call an ambulance.

Jinsol wasn’t listening.

She could only focus on Yoona—on how still she was, how fragile she looked in her arms.

With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and called for an ambulance.

—

Jinsol hated hospitals.

She hated the sterile white walls, the too-bright lights, the constant beeping of machines. She hated how familiar it all felt.

Yoona lay in the hospital bed, too pale against the sheets. An IV drip was attached to her wrist, the steady rhythm of the heart monitor the only sound in the room.

Jinsol sat beside her, hands clenched into fists.

The doctor’s words echoed in her head.

“Her body is weakening. Fainting spells like this may become more frequent.”

She exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down her face.

She knew Yoona’s condition was getting worse. She knew it, but hearing it out loud still felt like a punch to the gut.

For two weeks, she had been drowning in work, letting the bucket list sit untouched. Now, finally, she had time again—but instead of planning their next adventure, she was sitting here, watching over a sleeping Yoona, afraid she might not wake up.

Jinsol’s hands shook.

She had never felt this helpless before.

—

A soft groan broke the silence.

Jinsol’s head snapped up.

Yoona’s fingers twitched slightly, her eyelids fluttering open. She blinked groggily, eyes unfocused.

“…Jinsol?”

Jinsol exhaled sharply, relief crashing into her like a tidal wave.

She moved closer, her hands instinctively reaching out—but stopping just before touching.

“You’re awake,” she murmured. Her voice sounded weaker than she wanted.

Yoona blinked a few more times, looking around at the room. Slowly, realization dawned on her face.

“…Hospital?” she mumbled.

Jinsol nodded stiffly.

Yoona sighed, closing her eyes again. “That’s embarrassing.”

Jinsol let out a breathy laugh, but it was thin, shaky.

She reached out, taking Yoona’s hand in hers. Holding on tightly.

“You scared me,” she admitted.

Yoona opened her eyes again, staring at Jinsol for a long moment.

Then, instead of answering, she squeezed her hand back.

Jinsol held on.

She didn’t let go.

And in that silence, a promise was made.l

The days inside the hospital stretched endlessly. Time felt frozen, yet cruelly fleeting.

Yoona’s condition had worsened to the point that the doctors kept a close eye on her. Daily checkups. Endless tests. More wires, more medicine, more rules. Some days, she seemed fine. Others, she couldn’t even sit up without feeling lightheaded and weak.

Jinsol hated it.

But even so, she never left Yoona’s side.

Every night, after finishing her work, she would rush to the hospital—sometimes still dressed in her office clothes, tie loosened, exhaustion creeping into her bones. It didn’t matter how tired she was.

Because Yoona needed her.

And if she was being honest with herself—she needed Yoona too.

—Day 39—

Jinsol entered the hospital room like she always did—carrying food, knowing Yoona would never eat the bland hospital meals without complaining.

“You look like a prisoner,” Jinsol teased as she sat beside her.

Yoona, who had been staring out the window, turned her head and gave a deadpan look. “I feel like one.”

Jinsol chuckled, setting the bag of food down on the table. “Lucky for you, I come bearing gifts.”

Yoona’s eyes flickered with interest. “Is that—”

“Your favorite,” Jinsol confirmed, opening the lid. “Freshly bought, just for you.”

For the first time in days, Yoona actually smiled. It was small, but real.

Jinsol pretended it didn’t make her chest feel warm.

—Day 46—

It was late when Jinsol finally arrived that night. Meetings had run longer than expected, and she spent the whole car ride gripping the steering wheel too tightly, feeling guilty for being late.

She expected Yoona to be asleep.

Instead, she found her wide awake—lying on her side, curled up under the blanket, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Jinsol hesitated before stepping inside.

She sat beside the bed, resting her elbows on her knees. “Tough day?” she asked quietly.

Yoona didn’t answer right away. For a long moment, she just lay there, unmoving.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “I hate this.”

Jinsol’s breath hitched.

“I feel useless,” Yoona continued, her voice hoarse. “Like I’m just… waiting.”

Jinsol felt something crack inside her.

Because she knew exactly what Yoona meant.

This wasn’t living. This wasn’t the bucket list. This wasn’t the way they were supposed to spend their remaining time.

Jinsol swallowed the lump in her throat and reached out, taking Yoona’s hand in hers.

“You’re not alone,” she whispered.

Yoona didn’t reply.

But she squeezed Jinsol’s hand back.

—Day 54—

Some nights, Jinsol stayed even after Yoona fell asleep.

She would sit beside the bed, elbows resting on her knees, just watching her.

Yoona looked so different when she was asleep—softer, more delicate, like the weight of the world had finally let her rest.

Jinsol reached out, gently brushing a few strands of hair away from her face.

Her fingers lingered just a little too long.

“You always complain so much,” Jinsol whispered. “But when you sleep, you look so peaceful. Almost like you’re not sick at all.”

She let out a soft chuckle, but it was laced with something sad.

“I wish you could stay like this forever.”

She sighed, leaning back against the chair.

The beeping of the monitor filled the silence.

Jinsol stared at her, taking in every detail—the curve of her lashes, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips parted slightly as she breathed.

She never said it out loud.

But every night, she stayed a little longer, just to make sure Yoona was still breathing.

—Day 62—

The doctor finally gave them the news—Yoona was stable enough to be discharged soon.

Jinsol exhaled deeply, feeling the tension in her chest ease for the first time in weeks.

But then, she turned to look at Yoona.

She was sitting by the window, staring outside like she was seeing the world for the first time in a long, long time.

And Jinsol realized—Yoona had lost time.

An entire month, stolen from her.

Jinsol clenched her fists.

She had been waiting, hesitating, pushing off the bucket list because she thought they had time. But they didn’t.

Yoona had spent an entire month trapped in a hospital room, unable to do the things she wanted.

Jinsol wouldn’t let that happen again.

If they were going to keep checking off the list, they had to do it now.

Because time wasn’t going to wait for them.

And neither would Yoona’s heart.

Time was slipping away.

Jinsol felt it in the way the air grew heavier around them, in the way the days blurred together. Less than a month left.

They had come so far.

The bucket list that had once been full of dreams, places to see, things to do—it had dwindled down to only two more things. Just two.

And yet, Jinsol found herself hesitating.

More and more, she started ignoring the list altogether.

Instead of planning, instead of rushing to cross things off, she would look at Yoona—really look at her. At the way she sat quietly, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the windowpane. At the way she sometimes hummed softly to herself, lost in thought.

And instead of insisting they move forward, she would ask, “What do you want to do today?”

Yoona always gave different answers.

"Eat tteokbokki at that street stall near my old apartment."

So they went. It was late, the streets half-empty, but they sat on rickety stools, eating spicy rice cakes under the glow of neon lights. Yoona complained about how it wasn’t as good as she remembered, but Jinsol caught the way her eyes softened, like she was reliving a past life.

"Stay in and watch a movie, but you have to let me pick."

So they curled up on the couch, blankets tangled around them, as Yoona forced Jinsol to sit through an old romantic film. Halfway through, Yoona fell asleep against her shoulder. Jinsol didn’t wake her.

"Just sit here for a while."

So they did. They sat in a quiet park, watching the city move around them. Yoona leaned back on the bench, closing her eyes like she was memorizing the feeling of the wind, the distant sounds of people laughing, the warmth of the sun on her skin.

Jinsol never argued. She simply nodded and followed.

Because she had come to understand something.

In the end, it wasn’t about the list.

It was about Yoona.

And whatever time they had left.

—Day 82—

The first raindrop hit the window. Then another. And another—until the sky opened up completely, the rain pouring down in heavy sheets, washing over the city like a long-overdue promise.

Yoona gasped softly, eyes lighting up.

She turned to Jinsol, who was sitting on the couch, casually scrolling through her phone.

"Jinsol," she breathed, voice filled with something childlike and urgent.

Jinsol barely had time to react before Yoona grabbed her wrist and yanked her off the couch.

"Wait—what are you doing?" Jinsol stumbled slightly as Yoona dragged her toward the front door.

Yoona didn’t answer.

She just smiled—the kind of smile that made Jinsol’s chest ache—and pulled her outside into the rain.

---

The cold rain hit them instantly, soaking through their clothes in seconds.

Jinsol let out a quiet gasp at the sudden chill, but Yoona?

Yoona laughed.

She stepped forward, letting the rain fall against her face, arms wide open like she was welcoming it.

She spun around, twirling on the wet pavement, her hair sticking to her cheeks, her shirt clinging to her frame. She moved with no hesitation, no restraint.

Jinsol just stood there. Watching.

Her hands were clenched at her sides, her breath caught in her throat.

Yoona had been so frail lately. So exhausted.

Jinsol had seen her collapse, struggle to breathe, clutch her chest in pain. She had seen her at her weakest, at her most vulnerable.

But here, in the rain, she looked—

Alive.

Like nothing was wrong. Like she wasn’t running out of time.

Jinsol's chest tightened.

This isn’t fair.

Yoona turned to her, eyes shining, drenched in the downpour.

"Why are you just standing there?" she called out, breathless, smiling. "You’re supposed to dance with me!"

Jinsol inhaled sharply.

She wanted to move. She wanted to lift her arms, spin with Yoona, lose herself in the moment.

But she couldn’t.

Because something inside her was breaking.

She blinked up at the sky, letting the rain hit her face—because if she cried now, no one would know.

Yoona laughed again, stepping closer, her fingers reaching out—just barely brushing against Jinsol’s.

“You’re such a loser,” Yoona teased softly, shaking her head. “What’s the point of standing in the rain if you’re not gonna enjoy it?”

Jinsol exhaled shakily, forcing a smile.

“You look happy enough for both of us.”

Yoona hummed, tilting her head. She was studying her now.

For a second, Jinsol thought she saw something shift in Yoona’s expression—like she knew. Like she could see right through her.

But then Yoona just sighed dramatically and twirled away again, dancing like no one was watching.

And Jinsol?

She kept standing there.

Kept watching.

Kept breaking quietly.

By the time they stumbled back into the apartment, they were completely soaked.

Jinsol pushed the door open, stepping aside to let Yoona in first. Water dripped from their clothes, pooling onto the wooden floor. Their hair stuck to their faces, their shoes made squelching sounds with every step.

Jinsol sighed, already regretting letting Yoona drag her outside.

“You’re going to get sick,” she muttered, running a hand through her wet hair.

Yoona just grinned, still buzzing with leftover excitement. “It was fun, though.”

Jinsol rolled her eyes, grabbing a towel from the nearby laundry basket and tossing it at Yoona’s face.

“Go shower. Now.”

Yoona groaned dramatically, pulling the towel off her head. “Ugh, you sound like a mom.”

“I’ll sound worse if you end up with a fever,” Jinsol shot back, already heading toward the kitchen to make something warm. “Go.”

Yoona pouted but listened.

She dragged herself toward the bathroom, grumbling under her breath like a stubborn toddler.

Jinsol watched her go, shaking her head with a soft smile.

Some things never changed.

Even soaked, shivering, and exhausted—Yoona was still Yoona.

The apartment was silent now.

The rain had slowed to a drizzle outside, tapping softly against the window. The warmth of the hot tea Jinsol had made earlier still lingered in the air.

And on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket, Yoona had finally drifted to sleep.

Her breathing was steady, her face peaceful—softened by exhaustion.

Jinsol sat nearby, her arms resting on her knees, just watching.

It wasn’t the first time.

She had done this so many times before. At the hospital, on long car rides, after long days together. Watching over Yoona when she didn’t realize.

But tonight felt different.

Because time was slipping away.

Jinsol leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, her eyes never leaving Yoona’s face.

What would she do when this was over?

When Yoona was no longer here to drag her into the rain, to whine like a child, to light up over the smallest things?

Jinsol let out a slow breath.

Her chest felt heavy.

She reached out without thinking—her fingers brushing a strand of damp hair away from Yoona’s cheek.

Yoona shifted slightly in her sleep but didn’t wake.

Jinsol swallowed hard.

She was falling.

Maybe she had already fallen a long time ago.

Jinsol locked the door behind her, the soft click echoing in the quiet hallway.

She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t look back.

She walked quickly to her car, her movements sharp, precise—like if she kept moving, she wouldn’t have to think.

But the moment she slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door, everything collapsed.

Her hands trembled as she gripped the steering wheel, her forehead resting against it.

And then—she broke.

A sharp breath. Then another. Then a sob that clawed its way out of her chest before she could stop it.

Her shoulders shook. Her vision blurred.

How was she supposed to do this?

How was she supposed to watch Yoona fade? To keep pretending that everything was okay, that they still had time?

And worse—how was she supposed to live when Yoona was gone?

The thought hit her like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from her lungs.

She had spent so much time making sure Yoona wasn’t alone.

But what about her?

When all of this was over, when there was no more bucket list, no more weekend trips, no more Yoona pulling her into the rain with that damn smile—

Then what?

Jinsol gasped, clutching her chest, like that would somehow stop the ache from spreading.

But it didn’t.

And she knew—

Nothing would.

“How… How am I supposed to do this?”

A sharp breath.

“How am I supposed to live without her?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would block out the pain, but it only made the thoughts louder.

“She’s still here, but— but I already miss her.”

Her nails dug into her palms.

“It’s not fair—” she choked out, voice breaking. “It’s not fair.”

The tears wouldn’t stop.

She had spent all this time making sure Yoona was never alone, but when this was all over—when Yoona was gone—

She would be.

Completely, unbearably alone.

Her body curled in on itself, sobs ripping through her as she whispered, over and over—

“What am I gonna do?”

—

For the rest of the week, Jinsol gave Yoona everything.

Every morning, she would pick her up, greeting her with the brightest smile she could muster—as if she hadn’t spent the night before crying herself to sleep.

“Where to today?” she would ask, voice light, pretending this was just another normal week.

And Yoona, oblivious to the weight in Jinsol’s chest, would grin and rattle off places she wanted to go.

A small café tucked in the corner of the city she had always wanted to try.

A quiet bookstore where she could get lost between the shelves.

A theme park, even though she got tired too easily now, just to ride the carousel once.

Jinsol took her everywhere.

And when Yoona got hungry, Jinsol never said no.

Spicy tteokbokki at midnight? Done.

Three different flavors of ice cream in one sitting? Sure.

A full-course meal even though she barely had an appetite? Whatever she wanted.

Jinsol made sure every single request was granted.

But with each passing day, her heart grew heavier.

Because Yoona was getting weaker.

Her steps weren’t as light. Her laughter wasn’t as loud. She leaned on Jinsol just a little more, breathed a little harder after walking too far.

And Jinsol noticed.

She noticed everything.

But she never said a word.

Instead, she smiled. Laughed along with Yoona. Acted like this wasn’t killing her inside.

Because this wasn’t about her.

This was about Yoona.

And she would hold her sadness in, bury it deep where Yoona would never find it, if it meant making her happy for just a little while longer.

Yoona didn’t know.

She didn’t know that for the entire 100 days, while she was checking off her bucket list, Jinsol was chasing a different hope.

She didn’t know that when Jinsol had disappeared for hours, claiming she had meetings, she was actually on calls with some of the best doctors in the world.

That she was sitting in her car at 2 AM, staring at her laptop screen, desperately searching for experimental treatments, rare cases, anything that could save her.

She didn’t know that during their trip to Rome, Jinsol had vanished more than once.

She had walked through the old streets alone, not to sightsee, not to enjoy the beauty of the city, but to visit specialists, private clinics, underground medical institutions—each one giving her the same look.

Pity.

That same, unbearable look that made her dig her nails into her palm just to keep herself from breaking down.

"There's nothing we can do."

"We’re sorry, but the condition is too advanced."

"You should focus on making her comfortable."

Jinsol hated those words.

She refused to accept them.

Every night, she would sit on the floor of her apartment, laptop open, notes scattered around her. Medical terms she didn’t fully understand, case studies, failed trials, names of doctors who might—just might—know something.

She barely slept. Barely ate.

And yet, Yoona never noticed.

Because Jinsol made sure she never did.

She made sure that every morning, when she picked Yoona up, she was the same Jinsol—the one who smiled, who teased her, who made it seem like the world wasn’t caving in around them.

Because Yoona needed to believe that these 100 days were for living.

She needed to believe that every laugh, every late-night adventure, every tiny moment was just for fun— and not because Jinsol was clinging to hope by the thinnest thread.

Not because Jinsol was terrified of the days running out.

So she carried it alone.

The sleepless nights, the aching exhaustion, the unbearable silence after another "I'm sorry."

She carried the knowledge that, no matter how far she searched, how much money she spent, how many times she begged—

There was no miracle waiting for them.

And yet, even knowing that, Jinsol still couldn’t stop searching.

Because loving Yoona meant that giving up was never an option.

—Day 99—

The apartment was too quiet.

No music playing from Yoona’s phone. No distant sounds of the city slipping in through the window. Just the slow ticking of the clock on the wall, counting down the little time they had left.

Jinsol stood at the doorway for a moment, just watching her.

Yoona was curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, staring out at the sky. Her posture was relaxed, but something about her felt off.

Jinsol had learned to read her too well in these 99 days.

She was thinking.

Thinking about tomorrow.

Thinking about the end.

Jinsol forced her legs to move, walking over and sitting down beside her. The moment she did, Yoona turned to look at her.

She looked exhausted.

Her skin was pale, lips slightly dry, her usually bright eyes dulled by fatigue. But she still smiled—the soft, lazy kind, the one that always made Jinsol’s chest ache.

“Hey,” Yoona murmured.

Jinsol smiled back, reaching out to adjust the blanket around her shoulders. “Hey.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was too heavy, too fragile.

Finally, Jinsol asked, “What are you thinking about?”

Yoona let out a slow breath, turning her gaze back to the window. Outside, the sky was gray. It looked like it was about to rain.

“Tomorrow’s the last day,” she said softly.

Jinsol’s fingers clenched around the blanket.

She knew that.

She had been dreading it since day one. Since the moment Yoona had handed her that stupid bucket list with that teasing grin, completely unaware of how much it would end up breaking Jinsol apart.

Still, hearing Yoona say it—so calmly, so easily— made something inside her twist painfully.

Jinsol forced out a chuckle, pretending this wasn’t killing her.

“And? Are you happy with everything we did?”

Yoona hummed, tilting her head slightly. “Yeah… I think I am.”

Jinsol let out a quiet breath. “No regrets?”

Yoona turned her head, resting it against the couch as she studied Jinsol’s face.

“…You keep asking that,” she murmured.

Jinsol stiffened.

Had she?

Maybe she had. Maybe she needed to hear it.

Maybe she needed to know that even if this was unfair, even if there was nothing she could do, at least—at the very least—Yoona was happy.

But then Yoona sighed and smiled. “No regrets,” she confirmed. “I got to do everything I wanted.”

Jinsol swallowed hard.

No.

Not everything.

Not the most important thing.

Yoona hadn’t fallen in love.

She hadn’t realized.

That all this time—Jinsol had been loving her in ways that words could never explain.

And that tomorrow, on the very last day, she was going to tell her.

Everything.

Even if it was too late.

Jinsol’s throat felt tight.

She wanted to say something, anything—but every word felt wrong.

Her gaze dropped to their intertwined hands. Yoona’s fingers were cold. Jinsol gave them a small squeeze, trying to warm them up.

Then, before she could stop herself, she asked, "What if nothing happens tomorrow?"

Yoona blinked, surprised by the question.

Jinsol kept her eyes on their hands, her voice quieter now. “What if it’s just… another day?”

Another sunrise. Another sunset.

And then what?

Yoona didn’t answer right away.

She tilted her head slightly, as if considering it. Then, after a long pause, she whispered, “Then it’s just another day.”

Jinsol swallowed, heart twisting painfully.

Just another day.

As if it didn’t mean something. As if it wasn’t the last one.

As if it wasn’t the day that would change everything.

Jinsol bit the inside of her cheek, trying to steady herself. “Would that be okay with you?”

Yoona hummed softly. “Yeah.”

Jinsol turned her head, finally looking at her. “Really?”

Yoona’s smile was small but genuine.

“I got to live the past 99 days exactly how I wanted.” She exhaled slowly, leaning her head back against the couch. “If tomorrow is quiet… if nothing special happens… I think I’d still be okay with that.”

Jinsol’s fingers tightened around hers.

She wanted to believe that.

She wanted to be okay with it too.

But she wasn’t.

Because tomorrow, everything would change.

Because tomorrow, she was going to tell Yoona the truth.

And Jinsol didn’t know if she was ready for what came after that.

Jinsol didn’t leave.

Not that night. Not when time felt like it was slipping through her fingers.

She stayed with Yoona the entire day, never letting go of her hand, never straying too far. It was quiet between them—not uncomfortable, just heavy. The kind of silence that said more than words ever could.

As the evening deepened, Yoona grew tired faster than usual. Jinsol helped her to bed, tucked her in, and—without hesitation—slipped under the covers beside her.

Yoona blinked at her in surprise. “You’re staying?”

Jinsol let out a quiet chuckle, shifting to get comfortable. “Of course.”

Yoona hummed, as if she had expected that answer. She didn’t argue. Instead, she scooted closer, resting her head on Jinsol’s shoulder, her warmth sinking into Jinsol’s skin.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Jinsol listened to the soft rhythm of Yoona’s breathing, felt the way her fingers barely curled around the fabric of her sleeve—as if she was holding on.

She didn’t realize when Yoona had fully drifted off.

Didn’t realize how long she had been staring at her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, memorizing every tiny detail—the way her lashes fluttered slightly in her sleep, the way her lips parted with every steady exhale.

And then, without warning, Jinsol’s vision blurred.

A lump formed in her throat, and before she knew it, tears were slipping down her cheeks.

She tried to hold it in.

Tried to swallow the sob threatening to break free.

But the weight in her chest was too much.

Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe—not here, not now, not with Yoona sleeping peacefully beside her, completely unaware of how much Jinsol was breaking.

Carefully, so carefully, Jinsol slipped out of bed.

She moved as quietly as she could, stepping away, wiping at her face with trembling fingers. But the tears wouldn’t stop.

She pressed a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking, silent sobs wracking her body.

Because tomorrow was day 100.

And Jinsol didn’t know if she had the strength to face it.

—Day 100—

The rain started early that morning.

A soft drizzle at first, gentle against the window, before it grew heavier—soaking the streets, washing away the warmth of yesterday.

Jinsol woke up to the sound of it.

For a moment, she didn’t move.

She lay there, eyes barely open, listening.

Listening to the rain.

Listening to Yoona’s breathing beside her.

Still there. Still here.

She turned her head slowly, almost afraid that if she moved too quickly, the moment would shatter.

Yoona was curled up under the blanket, her face half-hidden, her breathing slow.

Too slow.

Jinsol's heart clenched.

She reached out instinctively, brushing her fingers across the back of Yoona’s hand. Cold.

Too cold.

She swallowed the panic rising in her chest. “Yoona.”

Yoona stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering. Then, a small, tired smile.

"You're awake," she murmured.

Jinsol let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. “Yeah.”

Yoona hummed softly, barely opening her eyes. “It’s raining.”

Jinsol turned to glance at the window. Gray skies. The whole world covered in water.

She swallowed. “Yeah.”

There was silence.

Then, Yoona sighed. “I guess that means we’re not going anywhere today.”

Jinsol’s fingers clenched in the blanket.

She heard the unspoken words beneath that sentence.

We don’t have any more days left, do we?

There’s nowhere else to go.

Jinsol exhaled shakily, forcing herself to keep her voice steady. “Is there anything you want to do?”

Yoona was quiet for a long time.

Then, slowly, she turned her head—dark eyes meeting Jinsol’s, filled with something unreadable.

“…I want to hear you say it.”

Jinsol froze.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Yoona was looking at her—really looking at her.

Like she had known all along.

Like she had been waiting for this moment.

Jinsol’s chest tightened, her fingers trembling where they still rested on the blanket.

Because saying it meant accepting it.

Saying it meant acknowledging that this was the last time.

Yoona smiled softly. Patient. Knowing.

Jinsol’s hands shook as she slowly reached forward—cupping Yoona’s face, tracing her fingertips along skin that felt too fragile, too delicate.

She inhaled sharply, trying to hold herself together.

And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, cracked and broken at the edges—

"I love you."

The words slipped out before she could stop them, before she could convince herself that saying them would make this hurt more than it already did.

Yoona’s lips parted slightly, her eyes glistening.

“I know,” she whispered back.

Jinsol let out a broken laugh, her forehead falling against Yoona’s. “Of course you do.”

Yoona’s hands twitched against the blankets, barely able to move, but Jinsol felt it.

Felt her holding on.

Felt the way her body was fighting to stay.

Felt the way she was slipping away anyway.

“…Can you hold me?” Yoona’s voice was barely there. A ghost of a whisper.

Jinsol let out a shuddering breath, nodding.

She climbed under the blankets, pulling Yoona into her arms, wrapping herself around her like she could stop time.

Yoona sighed softly, nuzzling into her warmth.

Jinsol pressed her face into Yoona’s hair, her lips brushing against the crown of her head.

“…You won’t forget me, right?” Yoona murmured.

Jinsol squeezed her eyes shut, holding back a sob.

How could she?

How could she forget the girl who had turned her entire world upside down?

How could she forget the way Yoona laughed, the way she looked at her, the way she had made 100 days feel like a lifetime?

She swallowed, her voice breaking.

“I could live a hundred lifetimes,” she whispered, shaking, unraveling, falling apart. “And I’d remember you in every single one.”

Yoona smiled against her skin.

A tiny, barely-there thing.

Her breathing slowed.

Jinsol didn’t move.

Didn’t let go.

She listened.

Listened to the rain.

Listened to Yoona’s breath—soft, unsteady.

Until, somewhere between one heartbeat and the next—

It stopped.

Jinsol’s entire body went still.

Silence.

For a moment, she thought maybe she imagined it.

Maybe Yoona was just sleeping.

Maybe if she just stayed still, if she didn’t move, if she just held on a little tighter—maybe time would go backwards.

But when she pulled back—when she saw the stillness in Yoona’s face, the way her chest never rose again—

Jinsol broke.

A sharp, wretched sob tore through her, her hands trembling violently as she cupped Yoona’s face again—shaking her, whispering, pleading.

“Yoona.”

No answer.

“Yoona.” Her voice cracked, barely more than a breath.

Nothing.

Jinsol’s throat tightened, tears slipping down her face and onto Yoona’s skin.

Still warm.

But cooling.

Fading.

“No, no, no, don’t—” Jinsol choked, pressing her forehead against Yoona’s again, like she could transfer all of her warmth, all of her life into her.

“Please—”

She was gasping, breaking, shattering.

This wasn’t fair.

This wasn’t fair.

They still had so much to do.

So many things left unsaid.

So many days they were supposed to have.

Yoona was supposed to have.

Jinsol clenched her fists into the blanket, shaking so hard she thought her body might collapse in on itself.

“I love you,” she whispered, over and over and over again, because maybe if she said it enough, Yoona would wake up.

Maybe if she said it enough, this wouldn’t be the end.

But the world didn’t listen.

The rain kept falling.

And Yoona never opened her eyes again.