Seorin’s wrist still hadn’t recovered from yesterday’s work from yesterday’s work when the villagers’ yard filled once again with the sounds of footsteps, short instructions, and the scent of garlic rising into the cold morning air.

Wooden tables were dragged beneath the tents. Large basins of vegetables lined up beside the outdoor kitchen. The smell of stir-fried garlic, broth simmering over fire, and damp earth mixed together beneath the mountain air.

Their school-cleaning work was put on hold almost immediately after the village chief asked for extra help preparing for the traditional wedding ceremony scheduled for the next day.

Seorin stood among the older women holding a pair of kitchen scissors and a stalk of green onion she hadn’t cut evenly.

“Oh dear, not like that.”

One of the older aunties laughed softly as she adjusted Seorin’s grip. Seorin’s fingers stiffened instinctively before slowly following her guidance.

“Oh… like this?”

“There you go. Much prettier now.”

Seorin gave a small nod.

She spent most of the morning replying only when necessary. Her hands still moved awkwardly whenever someone asked her to help decorate dishes or arrange serving plates. Whenever somebody spoke to her, she often took a few seconds too long before answering.

But the aunties’ laughter filled the room too easily.

Little by little, the tension in her shoulders eased.

She helped cut fruit. Tied small ribbons around gift bowls. Learned how to arrange flowers over traditional dishes while conversations flowed endlessly around her.

Every so often, her gaze lifted toward the front yard.

Ara moved from place to place carrying chairs, hanging decorative cloth, laughing with Minji and several villagers. The sleeves of her hoodie were rolled to her elbows. Wind occasionally swept through her dark hair whenever she crossed the yard too quickly.

And as always, people surrounded her everywhere she went.

Seorin lowered her gaze back to the flowers in her hands.

But Ara’s voice still drifted faintly into the back kitchen.

“Hm…” One of the aunties suddenly glanced toward the yard too. “If your friend were a boy, I’d probably set her up with my daughter.”

Soft laughter immediately spread among the women.

“Hardworking, polite, and such a pretty face too.”

Seorin’s fingers paused for half a second over the flower stems.

Then resumed moving.

“Seorin-ah.”

Another auntie appeared near the doorway carrying an empty woven basket.

“Come help me pick more flowers.”

Seorin nodded immediately.

She took the basket a little faster than necessary.

***

The flower field lay a little way outside the village.

Auntie Jang walked in front carrying gardening scissors while the others followed behind, chatting quietly among themselves.

The afternoon air had begun to warm, but the mountain wind still slipped cold through the sleeves of Seorin’s cardigan.

Only a few minutes into the walk, another set of footsteps approached from behind.

Seorin didn’t need to turn around.

“Are you still mad?”

Ara walked several steps behind her, both hands shoved into her hoodie pockets.

Seorin kept walking.

“I didn’t mean to laugh at you earlier.”

No response.

“I just—”

Seorin turned around sharply.

Ara immediately covered her mouth when another laugh almost escaped.

“Sorry,” she said, clearing her throat.

Seorin looked away again and quickened her pace until she was nearly beside Auntie Jang.

Ara kept following behind her.

Sometimes calling her name.

Sometimes staying quiet.

The sound of Ara’s shoes continued against the rocky dirt road behind her.

***

The flower field came into view several minutes later.

The hillside stretched wide beneath the sky, covered in white baby’s breath swaying gently in the wind. Near the top of the hill, several sunflowers rose above the other flowers, turned toward the afternoon sun.

Without thinking, Seorin pulled out her phone.

The soft click of the camera shutter sounded several times.

“Watch your step,” Auntie Jang called from ahead. “The ground’s pretty steep.”

Seorin gave a small nod before starting down the slope.

Her shoes slipped several times against the loose dirt and stones, but she stayed focused on carefully picking the baby’s breath exactly as instructed. Her fingers handled the thin stems delicately to keep them from snapping.

She had just reached for another stem when something yellow suddenly appeared in front of her face.

Seorin turned.

Ara stood beside her holding up a sunflower.

“What did you pick that for?” Seorin protested immediately. “We were told to gather baby’s breath.”

“I already got permission.”

Ara lifted the flower a little higher.

“And I’m not always a thief.”

The corner of her mouth tilted slightly.

“I picked it to apologize.”

Seorin looked away before Ara could actually place it into her hands.

But the bright yellow kept slipping into the edge of her vision every time Ara moved.

Seorin chose to focus on her footing and the flowers in her hands instead.

“I already apologized, Han Seorin.”

No answer.

“At least look at me.”

Seorin only walked faster down the hill.

Then—

“Ah!”

A sudden crash sounded behind her.

Seorin spun around instinctively.

Ara had fallen onto the ground, one hand still stubbornly holding the sunflower up in the air.

“Help me,” she complained with a grimace.

Seorin let out a short sigh before reaching out her hand.

Ara grabbed it immediately, and the sudden force pulled Seorin’s footing loose against the slope.

Her balance gave out along with it, and she fell forward as sprays of baby’s breath scattered around them.

Tiny white flowers burst through the air before settling into their hair and across their shoulders.

Seorin stopped only centimeters from Ara’s face.

Her breath caught.

For the first time, she could see the color of Ara’s eyes clearly beneath the afternoon sunlight—light brown with thin traces of gold near the center.

Ara didn’t move either.

Wind passed quietly between them, carrying the scent of grass and flower pollen.

“Achoo!”

Seorin squeezed her eyes shut immediately.

“Did you two come here to help or to flirt?”

Auntie Jang’s voice echoed from higher up the slope.

Seorin hurriedly pushed herself upright, brushing dirt from her arms.

“We fell,” she said quickly. “And Ara’s a girl too.”

Auntie Jang stared at Ara for a long moment.

“You’re a girl?”

Ara nodded casually as she sat up again.

“Oh dear…” Auntie Jang sighed dramatically. “Then who’s going to carry all these flowers later?”

“I’m an athlete,” Ara answered, patting her own arm. “You can still count on my strength.”

That confidence again.

And somehow it sounded even more annoying with the sunflower still in her hand.

***

They continued gathering flowers in a different section of the hill.

Several times, Seorin caught herself glancing toward Ara, who now walked beside the aunties carrying bundles of baby’s breath over her shoulders.

As Seorin reached for another stem—

something soft crawled across the back of her hand.

A fat green caterpillar moved slowly against her skin.

“Ah—!”

Seorin jerked backward instantly.

Her footing slipped on the incline before she fell hard to the side.

Her ankle twisted beneath her.

Pain shot up her calf the moment she tried to stand again.

“My ankle…”

“Don’t force yourself up.”

Ara was already kneeling in front of her before Auntie Jang could even reach them.

Seorin tensed as Ara’s fingers carefully circled her ankle.

“Ara—”

“Stay still for a second.”

Her voice sounded lower than usual.

Ara pressed lightly against the side of her ankle.

“Ah— that hurts!”

“I think it’s sprained.”

Ara glanced up briefly before carefully checking her ankle again.

“I’m just trying to keep the swelling down first.”

A few seconds later, Auntie Jang returned carrying something green that looked like crushed leaves.

“This works better.”

Before Seorin could protest, the herbal paste had already been pressed against her ankle.

The smell was sharp and bitter.

“We should head back,” Auntie Jang decided after looking over the amount of flowers they had gathered. “This is enough.”

Then she turned toward Ara.

“You’re an athlete, right? Carry everything.”

Several large bundles of flowers were immediately passed into Ara’s arms, including Seorin’s.

Ara accepted them without complaining.

***

The walk back felt much longer.

Seorin lagged near the back, careful with every step along the rocky path. Her ankle still throbbed every time she stepped too hard.

The distance between them and the others gradually widened.

Then suddenly, a stack of flowers was shoved into her arms.

“Hold these.”

Seorin stared at the flowers in disbelief.

“My ankle hurts and you’re making me carry all this?”

“Please try complaining less.”

Ara stopped walking.

Then crouched down with her back facing Seorin.

“Get on.”

Seorin immediately understood what she meant.

“I can walk by myself.”

“I’m the one who can’t keep up with your speed for three hours.”

Ara glanced over her shoulder.

“At this rate, we’ll get back after sunset.”

Seorin let out a short breath and stubbornly tried taking another step anyway.

Two steps later, her body was suddenly lifted off the ground.

Her face collided straight into Ara’s chest.

“Kang Ara!”

The flowers nearly slipped from her arms as she struggled to get down.

“Put me down!”

Ara finally lowered her carefully.

Then crouched again in front of her.

“Hurry up and climb on.”

This time, Seorin didn’t argue anymore.

She climbed slowly onto Ara’s back while still holding several bundles of flowers. Both hands instinctively gripped the shoulders of Ara’s hoodie to keep from falling.

Ara was warmer than the evening air around them.

Ara’s pace started fast before slowing along the uneven downhill path.

“Am I heavy?”

Ara stayed silent for a few seconds.

“Do you want the honest answer?”

Seorin immediately tugged the back of Ara’s hoodie collar.

“Kang Ara.”

Ara laughed quietly.

The evening wind swept along the village road. Several baby’s breath petals drifted loose from the bundles they carried.

“Achoo!”

Ara sneezed again.

“Put your mask on.”

“Yeah. I’ll buy one at the convenience store later.”

Seorin snorted softly.

“There’s no convenience store here.”

“Then how am I supposed to get a mask right now?”

Seorin fell quiet for a moment.

The wind blew again, carrying flower pollen toward them. Ara’s shoulders twitched slightly as she held back another sneeze.

Without thinking much about it, Seorin lifted her hand and covered Ara’s nose and mouth from the side.

“I know,” she muttered quietly. “Just be quiet and keep walking.”

Her palm rested directly against Ara’s face.

Ara’s breath felt warm between her fingers.

Something shifted faintly beneath her hand.

The corner of Ara’s mouth seemed to lift slightly from the subtle change in pressure against her palm.

Seorin’s back stiffened immediately.

She quickly turned her head away.

Among the bundles of baby’s breath they carried, the sunflower was still tucked against the side of the basket.

Its petals swayed gently with each step they took.

Seorin stared at it for a few moments longer.

Somehow, the evening wind felt lighter than before.

The entire walk back, Ara kept complaining that her shoulders were about to break and her legs were falling off. But her steps never actually stopped.

By the time they finally returned to the villagers’ house, Ara immediately collapsed onto the wooden porch floor.

“I thought I was going to die young.”

Sweat dampened her temples and neck. Minji quickly sat beside her, fanning her with a broad leaf taken from one of the vegetable baskets.

“Ara, drink some water first.”

Seorin looked away.

But between the bundles of baby’s breath, the sunflower was still there.

Slightly wilted at the edges of its petals.

Her fingers moved before she could stop herself.

She gently straightened one bent petal.

Then quickly pulled her hand back again.

The corner of her mouth nearly lifted before she hurriedly smoothed it flat again.