TOGETHER

The sound of the announcement sliced through the muffled hum of the airplane cabin.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be landing shortly. Please fasten your seat belts."

But Hana barely heard it.
Her world was still breaking in silence.

Her fingers trembled as they gripped the edge of the seat, knuckles white, eyes glassy. She didn't even realize she was crying until a warm tear rolled down her cheek and landed on her palm. The world around her was moving — the hum of the engines, the chatter of strangers, the flight attendants moving aisle to aisle — yet she sat frozen, like a scene paused mid-breath.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.
Min-jun wasn't supposed to turn away.

Her chest ached, a dull pain that felt like glass lodged between her ribs. She kept asking herself why. Why did he do it? How could he act like nothing had ever meant anything? Did it not hurt him at all?
The memories replayed again and again — his voice, cold and flat; his eyes, empty of warmth. The same eyes that once smiled at her like she was his entire world.

She wanted to believe it was all a nightmare. But her reflection in the airplane window — tear-streaked, pale, empty — told her it wasn't.

Her breathing turned shallow. The cabin's air felt heavy, her chest too tight. She fumbled with her bag and pulled out a small white pill bottle. Her fingers shook as she opened it, spilling two tablets into her palm. She swallowed them quickly, reaching for her water bottle with trembling hands. The water was cold. It burned going down, but it calmed her a little.

When she lowered the bottle, a soft voice came from beside her.
"Are you okay? Do you need any help?"

Hana turned slightly. A young man sat next to her, kind eyes framed by soft black hair. He had noticed her tears. His tone was gentle — not prying, not pitying — just kind.

"I'm fine," she said quickly, wiping her cheeks. Her voice was hoarse, the lie barely holding itself together.

He nodded, not believing her but not pushing further.
"Okay. Just... take a deep breath. Landing can feel rough sometimes."

That small kindness almost undid her. She looked away, closing her eyes as the plane began its descent. The seatbelt sign blinked above her — a quiet reminder that she was still here, still tethered to this world that kept moving forward without asking if she was ready.

As the wheels hit the runway, her heart jolted with the impact. A deep sigh escaped her — not relief, just exhaustion. She had made it back home. But home didn't feel like comfort anymore. Not yet.

The phone buzzed the moment she turned it on.
Sarang 💛 calling...

She hesitated, then answered.
"Hana! You landed already?" came the bright, familiar voice that could melt any shadow.
"Yes... I just got off," Hana said quietly.
"I'm outside, at Gate B. Hurry, I've been waiting for you!"

Despite everything, Hana smiled faintly. "Okay... I'm coming."

She grabbed her luggage and walked toward the exit. The airport smelled of rain — that faint, metallic scent that always made her heart ache. As she stepped through the crowd, her mind drifted again, unbidden, to Min-jun. She wondered if he was sleeping peacefully somewhere, if he even thought about her once.
The thought stung like salt on a wound.

And then, amid the crowd, she saw her — Sarang.
Her best friend since childhood. The girl who had seen every shade of her — from laughter to heartbreak — and had never left her side.

Sarang waved excitedly, her short hair bouncing with the motion. She wore her favorite oversized hoodie, holding a coffee in one hand and a small paper bag in the other.