Eun Chae looked at the mirror with disappointment. The water that had been densely adhered dripped down her colourless facial line, dropping off the tip of her chin. That water seeped into her ivorycolored sweater, leaving a mark like a stain.

How long had she been looking at her pathetic reflection?

Eun Chae leaned against the wall with a weary face. She grasped the cell phone that she had put down on the sink while washing her hands, and pressed the side button to turn on the screen.

She had never been the type to keep track of what day it was, or how many days till the weekend, but suddenly her gaze was caught on the date.

Her body, which had been staring at it for a long time, slid down the wall. She squatted on the floor, taking difficult breaths.

It was her mother’s death anniversary in two days.

Around this time, unexplained loneliness usually came to her. How should she accept the fact that she had completely forgotten it this time?

Should she be glad that she was able to escape from the terrible deficiency, or should she blame herself for being distracted enough to forget it?

Eun Chae’s small body shivered faintly, then slowly stood up. As if accustomed, she continued to wash her face with an indifferent expression.

Guarding against immersion in sentimentality was her longstanding habit.

((())) ((())) ((()))

She regretted that the ensemble practice ended late.

Eun Chae couldn’t let go of her ambition because her viola performance was improving late. She held onto the members who wanted to stop because they were hungry by bribing them with sandwiches.

She wanted to fill her deficiencies by doing so. When she came out after practice, looking at the sunset sky, she regretted it.

It would require quite a patience to wait even ten minutes. Kwon Ki Joo might have waited for about four hours.

Eun Chae’s two legs descending the stairs of the concert hall were more hurried than ever. Her eyes busily scanned the surroundings, but she couldn’t find him anywhere.

She gradually slowed her pace. Standing alone on the windblown dry road, she stared at the rest area created around the circular pond.

He was sitting there on the bench. His hands loosely folded on his thighs, his closed eyes seemed to be sleeping.

There were four paths from the pond, and she could see people coming and going, staring at Kwon Ki Joo.

The toneddown navy cashmere coat, suit pants, and glossy shoes. Regardless of any angle, it was a sight you couldn’t see in a college student.

Eun Chae held the handle of the viola case tightly.

Aren’t you cold?

She mumbled to herself and reluctantly trudged forward. Each time the scrawny branches over the pond moved, they sprouted green leaves, and a faint recording of fresh water echoed in her dry ears.

The memories of the past suddenly floated up without notice.

The summer of that year was unusually hot. It was also an unlucky summer when she had gotten the summer cold, which she claimed not to catch.

“Are you really doing this to me?”

Eun Chae complained, wiping her constantly flowing runny nose, which had reddened her nose. Ki Joo, who had come to the bench in front of the concert hall in time for the end of the lecture, had an ice cream in his hand. It was mint chocolate ice cream, her favorite.

“I’m not a kid, it’s too much to not let me eat ice cream just because I have a cold.”

As her complaint pierced the sky, he seemed to give in.

“I’ll give it to you.”

At his words, she was about to reach out with shining eyes, she thought so. She believed it even as she saw his arm, holding the ice cream, stretch out into thin air.

“When your cold is gone.”

Ki Joo’s arm didn’t stretch out like in cartoons. He placed the ice cream where she couldn’t reach. Eun Chae looked at Ki Joo with a greatly disappointed face. Despite her sharp gaze, he was undeterred and tried to eat the ice cream.

“You’re such a child.”

Eun Chae harshly criticized his taste for enjoying candies or chocolates, which didn’t suit him. Ki Joo gave a light laugh and then took a big bite of the ice cream. Cleanly, as if he was filming a commercial.

A playful spirit suddenly got the best of Eun Chae in the midst of the twisted atmosphere. When Ki Joo tried to take another bite, she knocked the bottom of his ice cream. Ice cream smeared all around his mouth.

Seeing his handsome face smeared in mint color, Eun Chae burst into laughter, clutching her stomach.

He licked his upper lip with his tongue and chuckled, as if it was absurd.

We used to laugh at nothing.

As she gathered her old memories and approached him, blue leaves fell with a rustle, and only the sound of a cold wind hit her ears.

Eun Chae cast her gaze down with her chin up. Sensing someone’s presence, he slowly opened his eyes.

How long had time passed as they locked eyes? She had to force her stiff lips to moisten.

“Your car.”

There was nothing else for her to say, so she kept her mouth shut after that.

Then a brief silence passed.

Ki Joo slowly stood up.

“Wait here. I will bring it.”