Chapter Text
The bleachers are packed as Heejin, Hyunjin, Chaewon, Yerim, Hyeju, and Yeojin find their seats amongst the rest of the people waiting for the ceremony to begin. On the field, five rows of empty seats are placed meticulously, waiting for students and faculty to fill them. A stage stands in front of it all, and light, charming music comes out from a speaker placed off to the side.
The girls cram together on the bleachers and wait, people eyeing Yerim as they pass to get to their own seats. Hyeju notices the pointed looks and curious gazes that land on the girl next to her, the way their eyes look with pity for the girl that went missing, or even disdain because they believe her disappearance is just too convenient to be real. So with each person that walks by, she sends a glare back at those that have nothing better to do than gawk at her girlfriend for something out of her control and wraps Yerim’s hand in her own and scoots closer. Her girlfriend brightens, sending back a blinding smile, and Hyeju softens just a bit.
Hyunjin’s eyes sweep across the stands. “There’s a lot of people here,” she mutters.
“Of course there are. Nothing better to do in this town. This is the main event of the year; everyone comes,” Chaewon answers with a joking tone, and Hyunjin hums.
“I can’t believe they’re graduating,” Heejin says with awe and slight disbelief.
Yerim replies, “Neither can I.” She pauses. Then, “We’ll be okay, right? Without them?”
The other girls turn in to look at her. Her face is worried, vulnerable, and open to them, and there’s a timidness in there as well. They’ve all had time to think about this: what it will be like next year without the others. But graduation makes it real. Graduation means that soon their friends would be gone, off to new things, and they would be left behind.
Hyeju, pressed against Yerim’s side, squeezes her hand once. “Of course, we will.”
“Yeah, and besides, we’re all still here,” Yeojin says with a joyful tone, her eyes kind and warm as she wraps her arms around Chaewon and Hyunjin’s shoulders while sitting in between them. “We’re stuck with each other.”
“Unfortunately,” Chaewon mutters, and her expression changes to annoyance as she peels Yeojin’s arm from her shoulder. Hyunjin presses one hand into Yeojin’s side, pinching her and making the other girl crumble and release her grip. The three start to bicker, voices rising as people’s attention turns to them, and Heejin and Hyeju roll their eyes, already over their friends’ antics. Yerim, on the other hand, watches them fondly.
Suddenly, the music stops and changes, halting the three girls’ bickering. A slow march begins to play out of the speaker, and from the end of the field, they can see a procession of students in midnight blue caps and gowns begin, heading toward the rows of seats waiting for them. The girls stand up, peering over heads to catch sight of their friends.
The group passes by the bleachers, and the younger girls spot the first of their older friends. Jinsol is up at the front with the principal, her hands wringing back and forth as she walks in step with the crowd. Hyunjin leans into their group upon spotting her and says, “No way she makes it through her speech without throwing up,” to which the rest of the girls nod in agreement. The older girl’s eyes suddenly make their way up into the bleachers and connect with her younger friends, and they all give her supportive thumbs up and huge smiles. Jinsol smiles weakly back at them, and as soon as her eyes look away their faces fall.
Sooyoung, Haseul, Jungeun, and Jiwoo are next, and they pass by in a group up at the front, and the girls let out loud yells and wave as they pass. Yeojin plugs her fingers in her mouth and lets out an impossibly loud wolf whistle that catches everyone’s attention, and from down on the field they can even see Haseul’s eyes rise, a reprimanding look blazing in them. She motions for the younger girl to cut it out, and Yeojin shrinks back into her seat.
Finally, as the procession comes to an end, they find Vivi all the way in the back. Supportive waves and screams of her name accompany her passing, and the older girl waves back ecstatically in response.
Eventually, the students file into their seats, and the administration clamor onto the stage with Jinsol not far behind. When everyone has been seated, the principal rises to stand in front of a large, wooden podium and speaks, “Welcome everyone to the graduation of the Class of 2022. We are so honored to have all of you here today to celebrate the accomplishments of our young graduates.”
The principal continues to speak, but the younger girls tune him out. They’re more focused on locating their friends in the rows before them, and they find them rather quickly considering there are only fifty or so students out on the field. Jinsol is even easier to see, considering she’s sitting at the end of the row up on the stage. Even from all the way in the back, the girls can see how nervous she is, her hands clenching and unclenching as she stares vacantly into the ground. Her face is a little pale too, and it only gets paler as the principal says, “And now I’d like to welcome to the podium the valedictorian of the Class of 2022: Jinsol Jeong.”
Jinsol gulps and rises from her seat to walk toward the podium. The applause of the stadium is nearly drowned out by the screams and yells of the six girls that rise from their seats on the bleachers. Their hollers only get louder as Jinsol steps in front of the podium and shakily pulls out a piece of paper from her gown. When Jinsol’s eyes rise to look out into the crowd, their voices finally die down as she sees a few other parents shush the rowdy group. They settle back into their seats, and Jinsol’s anxiety rises again as her eyes sweep across the crowd in front of her.
It’s like she can feel each individual pair of eyes watching her every move. Sweat rolls down the back of her neck, and she pulls at the collar of her gown to get rid of the constricting feeling it is causing even though it’s nowhere near tight enough to cause that. She looks down at the podium, away from the scrupulous gazes of the watching crowd, and clumsily unfolds the paper with her prepared speech. Clearing her throat, she steps up to the microphone. “Friends, family, students…welcome. I just want to start by,” are her first words, but as she begins to speak, her eyes lift from the podium back up to the crowd, and she freezes.
Jinsol can’t. She can’t do this. Everyone’s eyes on her, waiting for her next word or for her to fumble and fail, and she can’t do this. Just the thought of continuing, of messing up and having everyone know, makes her want to throw up. So she flounders, opening and closing her mouth as she scans the crowd of students right in front of her.
She can barely see Vivi all the way in the back, but the girl has a worried look on her face. Sooyoung and Haseul are easier to see, the both of them trying to give her encouraging looks, and she can see Jiwoo close to them flailing her arms around as she tries to mouth something that Jinsol can’t make out at that moment. Finally, after failing to decipher what Jiwoo is trying to tell her, she looks just to the left, and she finds Jungeun, waiting and ready for their eyes to meet. When they do, the other girl’s eyes are kind and she smiles warmly at Jinsol, instantly soothing all of the anxiety and dread that has threatened to derail her mind. Jungeun looks at her with a love so rich and deep that Jinsol feels like she can do anything, and when the other girl mouths the words you got this, Jinsol knows that she can. She can do this.
Looking back down at the paper, her original speech ready and waiting for her to deliver it, Jinsol pauses and then calmly folds the paper back up and puts it away. She finds Jungeun’s eyes one last time, the other girl looking at her with a question in her eyes, and she knows what she has to speak from the heart. Her heart. The heart that she is ready to give to Jungeun. Jinsol takes a deep breath and then begins.
“Thank you all so much for coming. There is a lot to celebrate today, so I’ll keep this brief,” Jinsol speaks, totally and utterly calm. Her eyes wander the bleachers and the rows before her as she continues.
“I…I had a lot of things planned for this year, but in the end, almost none of it ended up going how I thought it would, which to who I was at the start of the year would have been an absolutely horrifying thought,” Jinsol admits, light humor filling her voice at the end and pulling a chuckle out of the audience. “But now, with what I’ve been through, what I’ve had to endure, I’ve learned to accept it.”
Voice rising, Jinsol projects her words across the field, “And that’s life, isn’t it? Learning to accept and adapt to things that are completely out of your control. Because you never know what life will throw at you, what situation or scenario you will be put up against.” She slows down, pausing for a brief moment before pushing forward. “Life will always have something unexpected ready for you, but it is always, always worth it to try,” she says looking into the crowd of students in front of her and purposely finding Jungeun.
The other girl’s eyes light up in recognition of a phrase that was said long ago, and she melts. Jinsol’s expression is warm and she looks at Jungeun like she’s the only person in the world that matters. Amongst the hundreds of people, Jinsol looks at her like she’s the only one there. And it’s with that constant gaze that Jinsol continues by saying, “Because life is too short to ponder on things you didn’t get to say or things you didn’t get to do. So be daring and bold and live life the way it is meant to be lived: with no regrets."
Jinsol stops, takes in a deep breath, eyes still on Jungeun, and she says, “So to keep my word and to live my own life with no regrets, I have one last thing to say. Something I should have said a long time ago. I love you, Jungeun Kim, and I always, always will. Thank you” The gasps that resonate around the field are numerous. Then, it goes completely silent. Seconds tick by until finally, rising to their feet, her friends, the younger girls up in the bleachers and the ones down on the field, shout and scream their encouragement.
“Wooo, yeah, Jinsol!”
“Way to go, ‘Sollie!”
Suddenly, as if awoken by the cheers, the whole bleacher and rows of students burst into applause. They rise and give her a standing ovation, the sounds of their clapping and yelling cacophonous. Jinsol steps away from the podium, a blush flooding her face and neck, but she barely even hears the cheering. As Jinsol steps back to her seat, her eyes are still on Jungeun.
The other girl has stood up with the rest of them. Jungeun stares wide-eyed with awe up at the stage, up at Jinsol. Their gazes hold, and with the love and admiration that Jinsol holds in her eyes, Jungeun knows. She knows more than anything that Jinsol is saying the ultimate truth, and Jungeun is ready to hear it. A singular tear rolls down her cheek, and she nods at Jinsol, mouthing the words I love you too. Jinsol smiles wide before returning to her seat under the angry gaze of the principal and the other administrators, but she doesn’t care. All that matters to her is that Jungeun knows how she feels. Finally.
The ceremony continues normally after that. One by one, the students’ names are called and they walk up to the podium to receive their diplomas. In their seats in the stands, the younger girls wait impatiently, a few names called first before they hear a familiar one.
Sooyoung’s name is called, and they burst from their seats with loud cheers and claps. The older girl walks up the stairs and across the stage, shooting a beaming look out into the stands as she receives her diploma and then walks off stage. Then it’s Jinsol’s name being called, the girl standing up from her seat on the stage to timidly receive hers and then sit back down. Haseul’s name is called right after, and this time when Yeojin lets out a loud whistle the older girl doesn’t reprimand her but simply accepts it with a confident smile.
Jiwoo and Jungeun’s names are called back-to-back, the bubbly girl practically skipping across the stage followed by her more subdued counterpart who takes several glances at the blue-haired girl watching her from atop the stage. Then finally, after most of the names have been called, it’s Vivi’s turn, the girl calmly and happily accepts her diploma before waving out to the younger girls cheering her on.
For each of their friends’ names, the younger girls yell and cheer loudly, watching with pride and love as their friends take the next step in their lives. And after the last of the students' names are called, after the students are instructed to move their tassels from one side to the other, after the principal says, “Congratulations to the Class of 2022,” after the students rise and throw their caps into the air, after all that, the girls in stands rush from their seats onto the field to be with their friends.
The older girls greet them halfway, well, all of the older girls except Jungeun and Jinsol. The other two go straight for each other, and their friends are wise enough to let them have a moment to themselves. As the girls go around and hug each other tightly, Jinsol and Jungeun collide, crushing each other in a hug.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” Jungeun whispers, speaking into Jinsol’s ear. From her words, Jinsol might think that the other girl is angry or even embarrassed, but Jungeun’s voice is full of awe. She pulls back from their hug, hands cupping Jinsol’s cheeks, eyes full of love and devotion and pride, and Jinsol covers one hand with her own.
“I meant what I said: I don’t want to live my life with regrets,” Jinsol replies confidently, a contrast from her normally shy nature. It seems like with this, with loving Jungeun and telling her as much, all of her reservations and fear are gone now. “I love you, Jungeun,” she continues, and as she looks into Jungeun’s eyes, the other girl can feel it with more than just her words.
Jungeun preens, “I love you too,” before pulling Jinsol in. At that moment, Jungeun, who for a while felt fear at the mere thought of this declaration of love, feels none of that fear. As she kisses Jinsol deeply and Jinsol kisses her back, arms coming to lay over her shoulders, Jungeun feels nothing but peace. Peace that she can finally, finally, be with the girl she has loved for as long as she can remember.
The kiss is short, but still full of longing and passion. They take one more moment with each other, one more moment to bask in this new (but also old) feeling of intimacy, and then they turn hand-in-hand to walk over to their friends that are patiently waiting for them.
“Holy shit, Jinsol. You made it through your speech without throwing up all over the front row!” Yeojin exclaims, hurling herself toward the other girl and wrapping her in an awkward hug with the way Jinsol’s arms are stuck at her side. Jungeun lets go of her hand so she can return the hug, but Jinsol’s eyes are still on her.
“Yeah, well, I just needed to speak from the heart,” she replies, smiling at Jungeun as the other girl looks back at her, and across from them Sooyoung and Chaewon make gagging noises as the group is subjected to another one of their “moments”. Despite hearing their disapproval, neither Jungeun nor Jinsol turns to look because nothing can spoil this for them.
Yeojin releases Jinsol, and then all the younger girls get their chance to hug the two older girls that just joined them. Yerim is the last one, and when she unravels herself from Hyeju’s grip and throws her arms over both Jungeun and Jinsol at the same time, she closes her eyes tight and whispers, “I’m so happy for you two.”
The two of them can hear the relief and joy in her voice. This moment must mean everything to her, seeing the both of them thriving in spite of the harm done to them, so Jungeun and Jinsol hug her back and whisper their reassurances in her ear. Eventually, Yerim pulls away and returns to her spot beside Hyeju. As she does so, Hyeju intertwines their fingers unconsciously. The two of them say nothing to each other, but they both watch the rest of their friends, ceremoniously in sync without having to speak.
Yeojin has moved on to bug Sooyoung, Vivi, and Haseul, pestering them as they look on fondly, Sooyoung doing so despite putting up an annoyed front. Chaewon, Hyunjin, and Heejin are listening to a rambling, excitable Jiwoo as she talks while trying to catch a fraction of what she’s saying. Jungeun and Jinsol have returned to each other’s side, wrapped in one another, a mirror image of Hyeju and Yerim themselves.
With a squeeze of each other’s hand, Yerim joins Jiwoo in conversation with ease, and Hyeju chuckles in sympathy for Yeojin as Sooyoung pokes fun back at her. It’s easy and beautiful, exactly as it should be, and it feels like things have fallen exactly into place.
—
Summer’s in full swing, the heat practically unbearable, which is why as Hyeju waits for Yerim outside her house, she can already feel a thin layer of sweat cover her body. She stands by the old bike she dug out of her garage out on the road when the door to Yerim’s house opens. Stepping out into the heat, Yerim finds her, smiles, and then turns back into the house.
“Mom, Dad, I’m leaving,” she calls back through the front door.
The disembodied voice of Yerim’s father calls back, “Okay, honey. Don’t stay out too late.”
“I won’t,” Yerim replies before she shuts the front door and skips down the walkway toward the curb. She stops just at the edge of the road, body swaying forward and then backward. “Hi,” she greets.
“Hey,” Hyeju says. She pushes off the bike, steps up onto the patch of grass Yerim is standing on, and leans in for a kiss, one that Yerim happily returns. They stay close afterward, hands sneaking light touches before Hyeju steps back.
“So, what are we doing today?” Yerim asks curiously. She sways back and forth again, the excitement of a promising summer vacation concentrating in her body, and Hyeju smiles warmly at her. The other girl steps off the curb, straddles her bicycle, and beckons for Yerim to hop on the seat as she leans forward onto the pedals. As she does so, Yerim seems to finally notice the basket on the front of the bike where a bouquet of flowers sits neatly and tilts her head.
Hyeju clears her throat and then speaks quietly, “I was…hoping we could go into the woods to pay our respects. To Tiffany.” She stops, purposely avoiding Yerim’s eyes nervously. “Just…with everything that happened, I thought it would be nice to give her proper goodbye, I’d get if you don’t want to go back to that place, I can always go by myself, I just thought,” she rambles, and Yerim cuts her off by stepping down onto the side of the road and pecking her on the cheek.
“You’re really cute when you ramble,” Yerim says with a wide smile. “I’d love to go with you.”
Hyeju starts to blush from both the kiss on the cheek and the flirting, but she quickly shakes herself out of it. She lets Yerim sit on the bike seat and get situated, the other girl gripping underneath the seat to hold on, before turning over her shoulder and saying, “You ready?” Yerim nods, and Hyeju starts peddling.
She guides them through the streets, sunshine beaming down on them both and casting them in a warm glow. Once they reach the edge of the forest and sidewalks turn into bushes and foliage, the sun dives behind the top of the trees, sunlight peeking through leaves and speckling a kaleidoscope of light over their faces. As Hyeju peddles, she peeks quick glances over her shoulder at the girl behind her.
Yerim practically glows, the summer sun and warmth of the air agreeing with her. Hyeju marvels at the way Yerim’s eyes will occasionally close, her head tilted back, and she seems to bask in the heat, her skin dewy with sweat and already starting to tan. Hyeju has always been in awe of Yerim - of her beauty, of her kindness, and the joy that is in her heart - but the sight before her is one that takes her breath away even after all this time. Yerim is as bright as the summer sun, and Hyeju is so lucky to be able to call Yerim hers.
Too distracted by Yerim, Hyeju almost rides past the edge of the woods where she planned to stop. Realizing where they are, she pulls off the road carefully and puts a single leg down to balance the bike. She steps off the pedals and flicks the bike stand down before fully swinging off the bike and offering a hand to Yerim. The other girl smiles, accepts the hand, and climbs off the bike to stand next to her. Grabbing the flowers from the basket, Hyeju looks at Yerim again, asking with her eyes if she wants to continue, to go back to the place where all their nightmares were created, and the other girl nods. They walk through the thicket lining the edge of the road, hands interlocked.
It takes longer than expected for them to reach the place in the woods that served as a portal to another dimension, the evidence of another entity’s existence. The times before in which they have journeyed to that place felt shorter. Maybe it was because of the hurried, frantic nature of those escapades, the panic, and desperation that consumed them, or maybe it was Choerry manipulating time itself. Whatever it was, the walk through the forest now feels different.
They walk together leisurely, hands swinging back and forth until the vibrant, bountiful foliage begins to wilt and turn black and charred. Trees give way to burnt remains, and so they stop at the edge as the remains of destruction from the fire are laid out in front of them, a wide clearing with husks of trees and scorched ground. But everything else is gone; the dilapidated pool, the diving tower, the chain-link fence, all of it. Vanished from this world, as if it was sucked into a black hole. The only assurance that the nightmare they endured was not just a fever dream is the destruction that Hyeju caused, the end to their suffering encapsulated in the devastation in front of them.
Hyeju scans the clearing, eyes wide as she takes it all in. She feels a sort of sadness, guilt at the damage she has caused, but the squeezing of her hand by Yerim quiets the raging regret enough for her pause. She looks over to her girlfriend, Yerim looking back as if to say, there was no other way, you know that. And Hyeju does know that. She does know that if she didn’t vanquish Choerry and dispose of the place that kept her tethered to this world, she would have haunted Hyeju and Yerim for the rest of their existence. She would have never stopped until she got what she wanted, so Hyeju had no choice. But just because she did what she had to do to keep Yerim safe, to keep her friends safe, to keep herself safe, doesn’t mean Hyeju doesn’t feel a prick of remorse.
Because she does. She feels it whenever she thinks about Tiffany, Taeyeon, the other girls that were sucked into Choerry’s void, or the absolute ruin she has left in her wake. That remorse is why she’s here: to give thanks to the girl and everything else that was sacrificed so she could live, so she could have a chance at life and at love. So she kneels down onto the forest floor, Yerim joining her, and places the bouquet of pink flowers (Taeyeon said pink was Tiffany’s favorite color) at the fringe of singed earth.
She doesn’t say anything for a long time. Neither does Yerim. They both stare at the vivid pink petals contrasting against the dark ground. Eventually, Yerim’s hand finds its way onto her leg, a comforting presence, and Hyeju covers it with her own. “I wish Tiffany had gotten the chance to say it. To tell Taeyeon that she loved her. She deserved it after everything she’s done,” Hyeju says, and she means it more than anything.
Yerim is looking at her intently, but her eyes remain on the flowers. She can feel Yerim’s hand on her leg, soft and warm as she grasps just a little bit tighter, and her voice is low as she says, “I know. I wish she did too. She did so much for us.”
“Yeah, she did,” Hyeju responds. She moves her gaze from the flowers to Yerim’s hand on her leg, tightening her own grip as her eyes roam up her arm, to her shoulder, and up to her face. Yerim watches her softly, kindly, and Hyeju feels her heart become full. This happens every time. Every time she looks at Yerim, gets to hug her or kiss her or be around her, her heart fills with love.
In the beginning, she didn’t know what this feeling was, what it meant. But as time went on, when her mind caught up with her heart, after she pined after Yerim for years, she could finally name it. It felt freeing being able to identify what she felt for Yerim, but what feels even better is getting to show Yerim that love and to receive it in kind. And that’s what Tiffany wanted for Hyeju when she sacrificed herself. She wanted her to love and be loved, and so it only feels fair to Tiffany for Hyeju to do the one thing she has been waiting to do for a while now.
“You know,” Hyeju starts, turning her body in toward Yerim. “One of the last things Tiffany told me was that I shouldn’t make the same mistakes she did. That I shouldn’t let fear rule my heart. That I shouldn’t be afraid of love. And she was right. She is right,” she admits, her eyes never leaving Yerim’s. “So I want to tell you something, something that you don’t have to say back if you aren’t ready, but that I need to tell you.”
Picking up her hand, Hyeju grabs Yerim’s and laces their fingers together, hands hanging in between them. She can already feel it, she can already feel her heart overflowing with the words she has waited so long to say, and at this point, it feels like her heart might burst out of her chest from the feeling. So she slowly leans into Yerim, their hands falling to the side and their knees now touching, and she nudges her forehead against Yerim’s and closes her eyes. “It’s you. It’s always been you. I love you, Yerim.”
There’s the slightest gasp that comes from Yerim’s mouth, but Hyeju just focuses on the grazing of their noses and the tiny, huffed breathes that hit her face. Suddenly, the hand that isn’t laced with Hyeju’s own cups her cheek, and she leans into the touch as a thumb brushes her skin. Opening her eyes, Hyeju gazes into Yerim’s, tears welling there, and her smile brighter than anything Hyeju’s ever seen. She leans in, kissing Hyeju sweetly on the lips, and Hyeju returns it without an ounce of hesitation. When Yerim finally pulls back, after she’s stolen the breath right from Hyeju’s lungs once again, she says, “I’m ready, Hyeju. I’ve been ready for a while, and it’s you that made me feel that way. You, who loved me when I didn’t love myself. When I couldn’t love myself.” She stops and connects their foreheads again, closing her eyes as she whispers, “So how could I not? How could I not love you, Hyeju? I’m yours.”
And with those words, the air is sucked from Hyeju’s lungs even more. Yerim loves her. She feels just as Hyeju does, as helpless and defenseless to this - their love - as Hyeju is. But more importantly, she wants this. Wants to be Hyeju’s as Hyeju is hers. The realization of that makes her feel more than just happiness. The feeling in her heart right now goes beyond that. Hyeju feels…complete. Like is all right and true in this world. Like the pieces of her life have fallen into place, and it is all thanks to her - to Yerim - because she dared to love Hyeju back.
So with a bursting heart and gasping lungs, Hyeju can’t wait anymore. She pulls Yerim back in for a kiss that has her seeing stars, stars that Yerim has shown her and named for her, and as Yerim kisses her back their love blooms. In the decayed ruins of the forest, their hearts blossom, petals unfolding and color shining vividly in the heat of summer, and the promise of life and growth is etched into the world around them.
They kiss endlessly, a new one beginning as another one ends, and time, as it tends to do when Hyeju is around Yerim, melts away. They kiss as their lips begin to tingle and the sun on their necks begins to burn and they grow more and more breathless until finally, Yerim has to pull away to catch her breath. Hyeju pulls back as well, and even though she’s used to this spent feeling, it feels wholly new and unlike any time before. And it’s because the girl in front of her feels it too. Hyeju leans in again, completely hooked on the feeling that only being close to Yerim can provide, and rests her forehead against the other girl’s. They stay there, the hazy, heat of summer the backdrop to this moment, and both of them can feel it: the start of something new.
“I love you,” Yerim whispers softly.
Hyeju smiles. “I love you, too.”
Finally, they pull away, but not too far. They take one last look at the flowers on the ground, each repeating words of gratefulness in their own minds, and rise from the ground. Their hands interlock immediately, and they brush off the grass from their knees. With brighter smiles and soft eyes, looks filled with love and joy, they give this place one final goodbye, turn their backs, and walk away together. After they have left, after they have put that place behind them, after a stillness has returned to the forest, something happens.
Left at the edge of the charred ruins, the flowers start to grow. Roots spout from the end of cut stems, inching down and digging into the earth beneath them, giving out an almost unnatural glow. They extend deep, deep into the earth, spreading out farther and farther, and the flowers shift upright, standing at attention. Then, the burnt ground and plants near the edge of the clearing start to revive, start to grow, as if life leaked out from within the flowers and spread to everything around them. Green slowly replaces brown and black. New plants begin to sprout from the ground, replacing the old. Finally, as the flourishing growth comes to a halt, as the wind tickles the leaves of trees and the sun beats down on the clearing, there is a lull. The pink flowers sway back and forth in the wind, promises of rebirth swirling in the very fiber of their being, and just like the love from which they were born, life around them begins anew.