Chapter 1: Two A.M. and a Seven-Year-Old Secret

The digital clock on my phone read **2:11 A.M.** in neon green.

I stood on the polished granite step outside the Song family house in Seoul, my knuckles hovering just above the heavy oak door. The city was a muted hum around me, a sound that felt miles away from the small-town silence I’d left behind. My suitcase, the one I’d saved three years to buy, felt like an anchor. Five years. It had been five years since I'd last seen Rain, and the knot of anxiety and exhilaration in my stomach was the only thing keeping the jet lag at bay.

I knocked—a quick, nervous rhythm.

Lights snapped on immediately inside, flooding the frosted glass panels with warm, yellow light. The door swung inward, and there was Mrs. Song. Even at this hour, freshly roused from sleep, she was stunning. Her long, curly blonde hair tumbled past her shoulders, now threaded with more elegant grey than I remembered, framing bright, familiar blue eyes.

Her gasp was swallowed instantly by a loud, delighted cry. "Violet! Oh, my goodness!"

She didn't wait for an answer, pulling me into a fierce, familiar hug that smelled faintly of laundry detergent and whatever fancy Korean face cream she used. She steered me inside, the hallway feeling impossibly large and quiet compared to the cramped apartment I'd just moved out of.

"Are you hungry, dear? We have leftovers, or I could make you some toast," she offered, her voice buzzing with genuine excitement.

I shook my head, fighting back a yawn. "I'm just really tired, Mrs. Song. And spectacularly jet lagged. Which room is Rain's?"

"Of course, sweetie, come on." She led me down a hallway lined with family photos—Rain at graduation, Rain hiking—before gesturing toward the last door. "Don't be too loud, she's a heavy sleeper. Thank you for telling us, by the way. This is the best surprise!"

I whispered my thanks, my heart hammering a joyful rhythm, and crept into the room.

The air was soft, dimly lit by the streetlights outside. Rain lay tangled in a mess of blankets, looking exactly like the best friend I’d left behind, except maybe a little taller. I put my suitcase down with a soft *thump* and walked quietly to the edge of the bed.

Leaning in, I gently nudged her shoulder. "Rain," I whispered, holding back a mischievous giggle. "Wake up. Your best friend is here."

She shot upright faster than any human being should be able to move, eyes wide and bewildered. Her brain took a full, loud second to process the figure hovering over her, and then she *screamed*. It wasn't a scream of terror, but pure, unadulterated joy. She tackled me off the bed and onto the plush carpet, both of us dissolving into fits of laughter.

"VIOLET! I missed you! How did you get here? I thought you couldn't possibly come yet!" she yelled, her voice muffled against my shoulder.

"Well," I said, gasping for air and trying to push her off. "The last person I worked for was apparently impressed with my spreadsheet skills and gave me a big bonus. So I wanted to surprise you. We have three days to hang out before we start classes... and can you please get off me?"

Rain leaped off, her face glowing. "Three days! This is the best birthday present I never got!"

We quickly scrambled back into the bed, pulling the duvet over our legs. The exhaustion was a distant buzz. We stayed like that for the next four hours, exchanging five years of compressed history—the bad dates, the college rejections, the late-night fears, and the unexpected triumphs—until the grey light of dawn began to seep into the room. We finally fell asleep just as the city of Seoul was waking up, our conversation ending exactly where it always did: a shared, comfortable silence.

Chapter 2: Three Days, Four Years, and a Terrible Secret

The Morning After

The sunlight, sharp and unfamiliar, was the first thing to interrupt the deepest sleep I’d had in a week. I woke to the scent of something savory and spiced—not the toast Mrs. Song had offered last night, but something wonderfully Korean and definitely frying.

Rain was already a whirlwind of energy. She was sitting cross-legged on the rug, a map of Seoul aggressively unfolded on the floor, phone pressed to her ear.

"Yes, Mom, we're up! Tell Dad we're taking the bus to Myeongdong first. We need street food, like, *yesterday*." She ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. "Up! Up! Three days is practically three minutes, Vi. We have to maximize the joy."

I dragged myself up, feeling strangely heavy. The joy was real, but the heavy cloak of my secret was smothering it. I needed to enjoy this, but every detail we planned felt like a lie I was weaving.

"Okay, Myeongdong is great," I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "But we should probably do something... cheaper. I'm operating on a very strict bonus budget, remember? That extra payment only stretched so far."

Rain paused, her finger tracing a subway line on the map. "Nonsense. This is a reunion. My parents practically handed me a slush fund this morning. Consider it the official 'Welcome to Korea' tax. We are doing everything. We are going to Karaoke rooms that don't close, and we are buying matching ridiculously cute socks, and we are going to hike Namsan Tower."

*Namsan Tower.* I mentally cataloged the cost of the funicular ride and the sheer time investment. I could do all of that, of course, but the more activities we jammed into these three days, the harder it would be to transition into "I live here now, and we're roommates."

"Rain, I'm serious. Let's make the most of the short time we have, but maybe let's skip the big tourist traps?" I tried to sound reasonable, but the thought in my head was a blaring alarm: *Don't mention the future. Don't mention the future.*

Rain stood up, folding the map with a decisive snap. She walked over to me, her expression shifting from focused planner to concerned friend. "Violet. What is wrong? You look like you're about to run a marathon and file your taxes at the same time."

"Nothing is wrong," I insisted too quickly. "Just... the jet lag is hitting."

She didn't buy it. "No. You flew ten hours, surprised me, and now you’re suddenly arguing with me about a bus fare. Just tell me."

Her eyes were fixed on mine, expectant. The moment stretched, thick and painful. I had planned this perfectly. I had visualized the casual, laughing reveal on the third night over late-night kimchi. Not this—not confronting her over a subway map before breakfast.

I took a deep breath. The secret felt like a living thing, squirming in my chest. I couldn't hold it anymore.

"Look," I began, dropping my voice. "It's not about the money, Rain. And it’s not about three days."

Her eyebrows arched in confusion. "Then what is it? Did you finally start dating that librarian?"

"No," I said, gesturing vaguely at the map on the floor. "We don't need to 'maximize the joy' over the next seventy-two hours because... we have longer than that."

I watched the puzzle pieces assemble themselves behind her eyes—the sudden trip, the secretive phone call with her mother, the weird resistance to fast-paced tourism. The realization dawned, slow and immense, finally hitting her with the force of an actual confession.

"Violet, what are you saying?" she whispered.

I walked over to my suitcase, unzipping the main pocket. I pulled out a thick envelope containing the pristine, official paperwork and the heavily translated acceptance letter. The paper crinkled loudly in the morning quiet.

"The job bonus was real, but it was just enough to buy the ticket. I've been saving for over two years, and I took the SATs a second time. I applied to the same place you did. I got in." I pushed the documents into her hands. "I'm not leaving in three days, Rain. **I'm staying. We're going to Hankuk University together.**"

Rain stared at the acceptance letter, her face cycling rapidly through confusion, shock, and then the slow, magnificent burn of betrayal mixed with overwhelming happiness.

"You… you told my *parents* before you told me? For five years, we talked about this like a dream, and you kept the most important part from me?" A sudden tear tracked a path down her cheek, but a huge, wobbling smile was already fighting its way through. "Violet, you absolute *idiot*! Why?"

"I wanted to see your face when you found out," I admitted, sheepishly. "And I thought if I told you earlier, it wouldn't feel real. It had to be a surprise."

She dropped the papers, launched herself across the room, and tackled me again, this time with pure, unrestrained affection.

"Four years, Vi! Not three days! You absolute nightmare of a person!" She squeezed me so hard my ribs protested. "We have to call my mom right now. She knew this whole time!"