Unwritten Chords Of Love

Unspoken Truths

The days after the final performance were strange.

Hanni had expected to feel a sense of relief after the show—after all, it was a huge weight off her shoulders. The pressure of rehearsals, the nerves before the big night, the uncertainty of what would happen next. But now that it was over, the feeling wasn't what she'd imagined. There was no sense of closure. Instead, it felt like there was something still left hanging in the air between her and Minji—something unspoken, unresolved.

The week after the show, Minji was busy preparing for graduation. As the senior, she had a million things on her plate: speeches to write, farewell parties to attend, final exams to ace. She was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, consumed with the whirlwind of it all. Hanni, on the other hand, was left with a quiet sense of loss, though she wasn't sure why.

At school, they still saw each other. They still exchanged glances in the hallway, still smiled at one another during lunch, but something had shifted. There was an unspoken distance now. Minji seemed preoccupied, wrapped up in her impending departure, and Hanni couldn't help but feel the weight of her own uncertainty creeping in.

Were they still the same? Were they *really* still okay?

Hanni didn't know how to bridge that gap. She had spent months learning what it meant to be with Minji, how to love her, how to enjoy their quiet moments together without rushing into anything. But now, as the end of the school year loomed closer, Hanni felt like she was losing hold of something precious. Maybe it was the feeling of being left behind. Maybe it was the reality of knowing Minji's life was about to take a very different turn.

One afternoon, Hanni sat by the window of the café where the band used to hang out after practices. She stared out at the bustling street outside, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her iced drink. The café was quieter than usual, with only a few people scattered in the booths.

It was then that she heard the familiar sound of the door opening, followed by the soft clink of the bell above it. Hanni looked up, expecting to see one of her friends, but instead, it was Minji. She stepped in, a little windblown from the outside, and when she spotted Hanni, her face lit up in that same soft, reassuring smile.

But there was something different about it.

It wasn't the smile Hanni was used to—the one that always seemed to come with a glint in her eyes, as if there was a secret only the two of them shared. No, this was a more neutral smile, polite and almost *distant* in its familiarity.

"Hey," Minji greeted her, taking a step toward the table. "Mind if I join you?"

Hanni felt a pang of unease in her chest but pushed it aside. "Of course, you're always welcome."

Minji slid into the seat across from her, her posture more stiff than usual. Hanni tried to ignore the way her stomach twisted. It was as if Minji was trying to hold herself back, like there was a wall she hadn't noticed before.

"Graduation's coming up," Minji said, picking up her drink without looking at Hanni. "I've got a million things to do—packing, final rehearsals for the ceremony, you know how it is."

"Yeah, I get it," Hanni said, forcing a smile. She didn't want to burden Minji with her feelings. Minji had enough on her plate. "You excited?"

"Excited, yeah," Minji answered, but her tone was flat, like she was thinking of a hundred other things. "But also kind of... anxious, I guess? It's all happening so fast."

Hanni nodded, watching her closely. There was a vulnerability there, one that made her want to reach out and comfort Minji, but she didn't know how. She didn't know if Minji wanted that.

"I don't know," Minji continued, her voice trailing off. "It feels weird. Like I'm leaving behind a whole part of me, you know? But at the same time, I'm not sure what's next."

Hanni opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. What was she supposed to say? What could she say? She had spent so much time thinking about her own feelings—her own uncertainty—that she had forgotten that Minji was just as scared, just as uncertain, about the future.

"I feel the same way," Hanni said quietly, her fingers tapping restlessly on the table. "Like I'm on the edge of something, but I don't know what's on the other side."

Minji looked up at her then, her eyes meeting Hanni's with a sudden intensity. It wasn't the usual teasing look Minji gave her—it was something raw, something more real.

"I'm scared," Minji confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared of what happens next. I'm scared of leaving, of losing the people I care about. And I'm scared of losing... *this*." She motioned between the two of them, her hands small but deliberate in the way they spoke the words Hanni had been afraid to hear.

Hanni's heart pounded. "You're not going to lose me," she said, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "We'll still be friends. No matter what happens, I'll always be here."

Minji smiled, but it was bittersweet, a smile tinged with something Hanni couldn't quite place. "I know. But sometimes, friendship feels like it's not enough, you know?" Minji's eyes lingered on hers for a moment before she looked down at her drink. "I guess what I mean is, I'm not sure how to move forward, Hanni. You've been a huge part of my life this year. But things are changing."

Hanni's chest tightened. She wasn't sure if Minji was talking about their friendship, or something else entirely. Was she saying that things were over between them? That the connection they'd shared was something that couldn't survive beyond the school year?

"Minji..." Hanni started, her voice trembling, but Minji held up a hand, stopping her.

"I'm not saying I want things to end," Minji said quickly, her gaze finally meeting Hanni's again. "I just... I don't know what I want right now. And I think you need to figure that out, too."

Hanni swallowed hard, her mind racing. *What did she want?*

She didn't have an answer, not yet. Maybe it was the fear of what was ahead that made everything feel so unclear. Maybe it was the realization that no matter how much she cared about Minji, life was about to pull them in different directions.

For the first time, Hanni understood what Minji had been trying to say all along. It wasn't about holding on to something because it was easy—it was about learning to let go, even when it hurt.

"I don't have the answers either," Hanni said softly, feeling a lump form in her throat. "But I know one thing for sure. No matter where we end up, I'm grateful for everything we've shared."

Minji nodded slowly, her eyes softening. "Me too, Hanni. I'll always be grateful."

And as the minutes passed in silence between them, with the weight of the words hanging in the air, Hanni realized that sometimes the hardest part of love wasn't the *feeling* itself—it was knowing when to let go, and knowing that doing so didn't erase everything that came before.

Some things were meant to change, and that was okay.

And in that moment, for the first time in weeks, Hanni felt like she had a clearer picture of what the future might hold. Not a perfect picture. Not a certain one. But a picture that was hers to paint.

A picture that didn't need to be rushed.