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The weight of the camera sits heavy in Momo’s hands. She’s used to her point and shoot digital camera that she’d gotten as a present from her parents as a freshman in high school. It’s small, she can hold it in the palm of one hand, and the quality is… not great. But it was that camera that had sparked in her love and interest in photography strong enough that now she’s holding a school-rented camera that is far more than she can afford in the hopes of getting good enough pictures for the first assignment for her Intro to Photography class. It’s the first step in her ultimate goal of graduating with a major in photography.
If she’s being honest, she’s not sure how it will take her four years to learn what’s needed to become a good photographer. Sure, she’s excited to be taught her way around a fancy camera like this one, and she’s very excited to learn some darkroom techniques. But she thinks maybe those things would take at most a year to learn. The rest, the artistic aspect of it all, is something that she feels like she just… gets. She doesn’t need to be told what looks nice or doesn’t.
Still, her professor for this class seems hellbent on telling her anyway. Their first assignment is simple. Just take photos that show ‘good composition’. Her professor had spoken at length about lighting, weight, background vs foreground, subject placement in the frame. Momo hadn’t been able to absorb most of it if she’s being honest. But she admits that the ‘good’ examples that he showed definitely looked nicer than the ‘bad’ ones. So she thinks maybe ‘good composition’ just means ‘make the pictures look good’ and Momo can do that.
Still, the weight of this rented camera is unfamiliar. It has about three times as many buttons as her personal little digital camera and she’s still getting used to where her fingers need to rest for optimal control. She’d thought the assignment would be easy. It was entirely open-ended so she wouldn’t need to hunt for a suitable subject, but the new camera is not behaving in the way she’s used to.
“It just takes practice,” Chaeyoung had said. “How about we go just shoot a bunch of pictures of random things and you can mess with the settings until you like them?”
This is how Momo and Chaeyoung find themselves in the quad at their university. It’s easily the busiest place on campus, the most likely spot to find things of interest to take pictures of. It’s a beautiful day and Momo’s eye is first caught by the large tree that sits at the edge of the large grassy rectangle, its dark green leaves contrasting beautifully with the light blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds. She lines up the camera, framing the tree in a way she likes and shoots.
She checks the picture in the viewfinder, doing her best to shield it from the sun. There’s something about it she doesn’t like. She can’t put it into words though. Maybe that’s what all these photography classes will be good for - giving her the words to talk about photography the way her brain just instinctually understands it.
“The tree seems too flat against the sky,” is the best way she can describe her issue to Chaeyoung.
It seems to be enough though as her friend helps her adjust the settings a little. She talks about lenses and how certain lenses give a different perspective. Momo tries to understand. Chaeyoung is smart. Very, very smart, and also has had a nice camera, nicer even than the ones the school provides, since she was eleven after her father had handed it down to her. That was only the first in her collection. She’d once told Momo that she has five cameras in her room now, varying in price and quality and purpose. She promised to show them all to her some time.
Momo is envious that Chaeyoung has all of that and that she just seems to understand what is supposed to be happening. But far more than envy, Momo is just glad that she has someone who can explain things to her. Chaeyoung hands her back the camera and Momo tries again. This time, the photo is much better.
“Nice!” Chaeyoung says when Momo shows her. “It looks like a really dynamic photo. Hard to do when your subject is still. That photo is definitely good enough for class.”
Momo takes a few more photos, mentally taking note of the settings that Chaeyoung had put on the camera. She plays with them a little more. Altering slightly here and there. Some make it way worse. Some make the photos a little better. She takes about forty pictures of the tree before she decides to move on.
In the meantime, Chaeyoung has wandered off to get her own photos. Momo catches sight of her a few feet away, lying on her stomach, camera pointed through the stalks of the daisies in the flower bed.
Momo takes a seat next to her and searches for another subject. She kind of wants to take pictures of people. Chaeyoung is all about location and nature shots, likes seeing the world through a different lens, no pun in intended. She claims that the camera can help you see things you would normally miss. Momo didn’t really get it until she looked at Chaeyoung’s photos and she has to agree. Chaeyoung’s photos manage to highlight small things that Momo would have otherwise missed - a seam in the pavement with moss growing in it, scratches in a tree branch where a bird had clearly gripped too tight, footprints in wet mud showing clearly a person turning as they walked. It’s beautiful, but it’s not how Momo sees the world.
She’s interested in people. Always has been. Finds beauty in how they move, how they stand. She loves how her camera can capture things about them, memorialize their small habits and movements. Things too fast or small to be meaningful in the normal passage of time, but she freeze those moments so that they last forever.
The quad certainly has enough subjects today. It’s a warm, sunny day. The kind that has people on picnic blankets chatting with friends or resting in the sun. There are some throwing around a frisbee, others passing a football. Someone has set up a slackline between two trees near Momo. She raises her camera.
It's starting to feel more comfortable in her hands. She finds settings that she likes, learns where to make small adjustments to get the shot she wants. There’s a wonderful picture of the guy slacklining where she catches him the moment after he takes his foot off the line to make the next step and he looks so precariously balanced. In the picture he is still, arms out and leg firm on the line. In reality he fell right after taking his foot off, the leg on the line wobbling too much to hold his balance.
There’s a picture of a girl with a frisbee. There’s tension in the photo that Momo loves. A will-she/won’t-she as the girl’s hands aren’t quite around the frisbee yet and her mouth is in a surprised ‘o’ as if she isn’t quite sure she’ll be able to catch it or not. She does catch it, but the photo doesn’t tell that story. It just holds a moment.
Momo is just about getting ready to wrap up, is thinking about asking Chaeyoung if she wants to go get ice cream, when someone catches her eye. It’s a girl, sitting in the shade of the large tree that Momo had been photographing earlier. She definitely wasn’t there before. Momo would have noticed. Not only because the girl is obviously beautiful, but also because Momo immediately gets a strong urge to take her photo. Something about the girl’s posture, her expression, the way she moves are absolutely begging to be captured.
Momo turns her camera to the girl before even really thinking about it. Through the viewfinder, Momo lines up the shot. It’s easy to do. There is a beautiful symmetry in her straight spine - only a slightly curve and tilt to her neck as she reads her book - that aligns itself with the tree behind her. Momo takes the picture.
It doesn’t capture what Momo sees with her eyes. She messes with the settings a little and tries again. It still falls short. She tries again and again and again. Chaeyoung eventually catches on and tries to help her, but she doesn’t seem to really understand what Momo is after. Momo isn’t sure she knows either. Still, she tries.
“What don’t you like about it?” Chaeyoung asks. “I think those photos look great.”
And Chaeyoung, on the surface is right. The photos do look beautiful. She thinks that they definitely have the good composition thing that their professor had mentioned. But Momo feels distinctly like something is missing. She picks up her camera again and lines up the photo. Just as she does, something catches the girl’s attention. She looks up suddenly from her book and the sun filtering through the trees catches her eyes, her hair falls back brushing against her cheeks and the line of her jaw becomes suddenly just a bit more prominent. Momo’s breath catches in her throat, and she takes the picture.
It’s perfect. It’s everything Momo has been looking for. She stares at it for a long time. When she raises her camera again in the hopes of catching another photo, she sees that the girl has been joined by a friend. Her friend is also pretty. But she’s not what Momo wants to capture, and her presence now disturbs the balance of the shot. Momo puts the camera away.
“Hey Chaeng. Do you wanna get ice cream?”
Momo doesn’t show the photo of the girl in class. She doesn’t show it to Chaeyoung either. Instead, she simply transfers it to her computer and just… stares at it every once in a while. Something about it is special. Among all the photos she took, it stands out and Momo finds herself unable to look away from it sometimes.
She’s proud of it. Can’t explain what makes it so special except maybe the subject herself. There is something about her that seems innately artistic. She seems to hold herself differently than most of the people that Momo has seen before, and there’s something about her complexion, her expression that leaves Momo yearning to know more.
It occurs to Momo that what she’s doing is maybe a little creepy. She certainly doesn’t have an ill-intent in her actions. She isn’t going to stalk this girl or try to get anything from her. She just wants to be able to look at this photo, and maybe, in a perfect world, get the opportunity to take more photos. For no reason other than pure artistic interest. But still… after a few days, she starts to feel guilty and weird about it and puts the photo aside.
Her photography class has moved on anyway from more general subjects on to specific photo types. Landscapes right now. Momo doesn’t like capturing landscapes. Though Chaeyoung has a knack for it, Momo struggles to get the composition right. Her first assignment had impressed the professor. This one… less so. He gives her a B and tells her to keep trying. He also tells her a lot about the thirds rule and something about how she’s supposed to incorporate the sky, but she honestly doesn’t get it.
Still, this failure (Chaeyoung tells her she’s being dramatic when she calls it that) only makes her want to try harder to impress him. Their next assignment is easier for her luckily. Architectural photography isn’t her favorite, but she can see angles well enough that the composition is easy. A few shots of the old train station downtown on her weekend get her an A that has her grinning ear to ear as she leaves the class with an equally happy Chaeyoung.
“Are you excited for the portraits assignment?” Chaeyoung asks as they get burgers and fries. “Do you want me to sit for you?”
Momo is excited about the portrait assignment. She’s nervous though because she isn’t sure how to direct someone to sit for a photo. The professor had demonstrated with one of the students in the class, telling them where to face, what expression to wear, how to have their hair and where to put their hands. Momo never really knows how she wants people to look until she sees it. She’d rather catch them being relaxed anyway.
“Sure,” she says, because if anyone will know what she wants it’ll probably be Chaeyoung. “Want me to sit for you?”
Chaeyoung nods emphatically as she chews.
“I love your face,” she says, and somehow it doesn’t quite feel like a compliment and more like an observation. “It’s really angular but not sharp if that makes sense. I feel like I could play a lot with lighting to highlight certain features.”
Momo wishes she had that kind of artistic vision. She likes Chaeyoung’s face. Loves the little mole on her chin (definitely wants to find a way to highlight that). But past that… she doesn’t know what she wants. She thinks she’ll just find it when she does.
“When do you want to do it?”
Chaeyoung shrugs.
“Prof said we could use the studio whenever we wanted as long as it’s empty. Do you want to go now?”
“Now?”
“Yeah, why not? I know you don’t have class this afternoon.”
When they get to the studio, Momo lets Chaeyoung set up the lights. They technically haven’t learned how to use them properly yet but Chaeyoung, of course, is well ahead of the course and she decides how she likes them and then has Momo sit in front of the white background of the studio.
“Tilt your head a bit more,” she says and snaps a few shots. “Actually, can you muss up your hair a bit? I want this sort of lazy feel if you know what I mean.”
Momo shrugs and runs her hands through her hair, tussling it until it is well past messy. Chaeyoung grins and gives her a thumbs up and then tells her to tilt her head again.
“Okay, perfect. You’re perfect.”
She takes a few more photos and then checks them in the viewfinder.
“Got it,” she says. “I like this one.”
She shows it to Momo, and it surprises her. She doesn’t think she looks like that. She looks mature and cool. It’s not at all how she views herself and she wonders if this is how she looks to people around her or if it was Chaeyoung’s direction.
“Alright,” she says. “Your turn.”
Chaeyoung takes her seat on the stool and waits for Momo to set up. Momo takes a few practice pictures, to make sure that she’s getting the framing she wants and the lighting she likes and then gets started in earnest. At first, Chaeyoung poses, head tilted to the side then chin tucked low and looking up through her eye lashes, then hands in her hair, mussing up the bleach blonde locks. Momo has to admit, Chaeyoung poses well. She doesn’t look awkward or like she’s trying too hard but at the same time, it’s not what Momo wants to capture. She purses her lips.
“Can you just… not pose or anything? Just sit comfortably?”
Chaeyoung shrugs and does exactly that. Her shoulders relax, her expression smooths out. Momo takes a series of photos, clicking through until she finds the one that she likes best. Chaeyoung looks calm. But there’s something else to it as well. Something distinctly Chaeyoung that Momo has been trying to capture this whole time. The always-there curve to the edges of her lips, as if she’s a second away from either pouting or smiling and her wide, glittering, alert eyes.
“Wow,” Chaeyoung says, when Momo shows her the picture, clear reverence in her tone. “You have a really good eye. Can I keep this?”
Momo preens a little. The photo is good. Certainly good enough to show it to the class and to her teacher. But if she’s being honest, deep down this picture just feels like something she took for class. She’s been getting used to that feeling, of taking pictures of subjects that she isn’t quite interested in and having to show work that she thinks is maybe not her best. If she looks hard, she can see how this photo was forced, that she’s trying just a little too hard to get it to look a certain way. It’s not that she isn’t interested in Chaeyoung as a subject. But more that she’s not interested in Chaeyoung sitting on a chair in a studio. There are far more interesting things to capture about her friend.
Still, Momo puts it out of her mind. She won’t get the perfect picture for this assignment. She just needs one that’s good enough for an A.
It’s a total coincidence. It has to be. And yet… Momo thinks that maybe this is an intervention from the universe, or God maybe? Because the portrait assignment is weighing on her more than she thought it would. People are her favorite subjects, especially close-ups that allow for these minute personal details to be shown. She knows she can do better given the right circumstances. And then… just like a gift from on high, the circumstances are there.
It’s the girl. The girl from under the tree. Though the memory almost a month old now, Momo hasn’t forgotten a single detail. Her dark hair, her pale skin, the smattering of moles across her face. Gorgeously composed as if handcrafted by the gods. And she’s sitting here, reading a book again, a textbook this time, at a table in the corner of a coffee shop. She’s backlit a little by the window beside her, casting her face into shadow a little, but her dark hair shines with an almost red color in the sunlight and her skin glimmers like gold. She looks perfect, just like she did all those months ago and Momo feels the itch of inspiration so strongly that her chest hurts.
The girl is so elegant, even as she does her homework. While Momo under the same circumstances would have been hunched over her textbook like a goblin, the girl sits straight, spine aligned, and chin tilted just slightly. Despite the straight posture, she seems entirely at ease and relaxed, as if this is her most comfortable state. It carries so much grace that Momo almost forgets what she’s doing in favor of just staring.
But as always, the desire to capture the moment rears its head and she very carefully sneaks her way to a nearby table. It’s very, very creepy what she’s doing and anyone in this cafe, if they chose to pay attention to her instead of their iced americanos, might decide that she’s some sort of psycho. But no one seems to notice her as she inches her way across the cafe, camera in hand. Once she’s as close as she dares get, she uses her zoom to get her the rest of the distance (not ideal or standard for a portrait shot but she does what she needs to) and takes the picture.
She only needs one to know that it’s perfect. Shining back at her on the viewfinder is the girl, backlit by the halo of the window, with just enough light to take in her smooth expression, the clear lines of her lips, the way her eyelashes brush against her cheeks. It’s beautiful. Momo’s favorite picture she’s ever taken. And in that moment, she knows, she is absolutely not going to show this to her professor. Or anyone else for that matter. This picture is hers and hers alone.
Still. There’s this growing feeling of… guilt. This is the second time Momo has secretly taken a picture of this girl. The first could have been excused. She wasn’t the only person that day that Momo had taken a picture of, she hadn’t specifically pulled out her camera to take a picture of her. But today is different. Upon walking into the cafe, Momo’s only thought had been on coffee. The camera on her hip wasn’t meant to leave its bag. It makes Momo feel weird.
She dances with indecision for a second. She’s never been particularly outgoing, always far, far more comfortable with a lens between her and other people. And talking has never been her forte. She thinks that if she leaves now this girl will never know any better. It won’t make a difference to her either way, but that’s a childish way to think about it. Even if the girl won’t know, she probably deserves to. Momo thinks her options, at least for her own peace of mind, are to tell the girl or delete the photo. She looks at it again and decides that she’ll do almost anything to keep this photo. So she approaches the girl.
“Um, hello,” she says to grab her attention.
The girl looks up at her in surprise, pen dropping to her textbook.
“Hi,” she replies, politely but clearly confused.
“I, um,” Momo starts speaking and immediately realizes that she didn’t have a plan for what to say. She fumbles for a second and the girl’s confusion clearly deepens, a furrow appearing between her eyebrows.
“I, um, I’m in a photography class and I’m supposed to take a portrait of someone, and I saw you sitting here, and I thought it would make a really nice photo, so I went ahead and I took a secret picture of you. The framing was just really nice with the lighting and stuff, and I wasn’t sure I’d get another chance and I’m really sorry if that’s creepy or something. I swear no one else will see it. And I can delete it if you want me to.”
The girl looks completely taken aback. Her eyes and wide, lips parted slightly in surprise. She’s beautiful like this too, Momo thinks. She also doesn’t look mad. At least not yet which is a good thing. She just seems to be struggling to figure out what to say.
“Do you want to see it?” Momo asks more to fill the silence than anything.
The girl nods cautiously and so Momo hands her the camera. There’s a moment where the girl is just silent, appraising the photograph with her eyebrows tilted downward and a little frown on her lips.
“Is this…” she says slowly. “Is this really what I look like?”
Momo doesn’t quite understand the question. Of course, it’s what she looks like. It’s a picture of her after all.
“Yeah,” she replies. “Of course.”
“It’s beautiful,” the girl says with a wondering sigh. “Will you please send it to me? I would love to have it.”
“Sure! I need to transfer it to my laptop first but if you give me your phone number, I can text it to you as soon as I get home.”
Momo hands her phone over to the girl and watches her type in her number. She watches curiously as the girl types in her name as well. Myoui Mina. A Japanese name.
“You’re Japanese?” she asks.
The girl, Mina, hands back Momo’s phone.
“Yeah.”
“Me too,” Momo replies. “My name is Momo. Hirai Momo.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Momo,” the girl replies.
Her voice is soft, and it suits her perfectly, seems to match the elegance that she carries. Momo, for some reason, feels she wants to hear more of it. She also still feels weird about the whole situation. Weirder now that she knows this girl’s name. She’s no longer a nameless stranger.
“I’m sorry about taking your photo without you knowing though,” she says. “I really wasn’t trying to be creepy.”
Mina smiles softly. It lights up her whole face and Momo’s fingers itch to take a picture. She doesn’t.
“It’s okay,” she says. “It was for class, right? You’re really talented.”
Momo wonders if she should mention at this point that technically she already had a photo that she could use for class and also that she’s feeling very protective of this photo, for some reason doesn’t want anyone else to see it. She settles on a half-truth.
“Yeah,” she says. “I already took others with a friend but I’m trying to keep my options open. I’ll look at them all later and decide which one to show.”
“That makes sense. But if you had photos of your friends already, why did you want more of me?”
Momo doesn’t know how to explain it to herself, much less to Mina.
“I just… I saw you and got inspired, I guess.”
Mina looks at her with parted lips and pink cheeks.
“You’re really beautiful,” Momo continues, bolstered by the fact that this girl doesn’t seem upset at all. “And these surroundings suit you really well.”
Mina ducks her head and smiles.
“Thank you,” she says, speaking more to her lap than to Momo at this point.
“I… I have to go,” Momo says, “But I’ll text you the photo later! I promise!”
“Okay, I look forward to it.”
Momo shoots Mina one last grin and then hurries to get into line so she can actually grab her coffee before her next class. That evening, she transfers all the photos from the memory card to her computer and sends Mina’s photo to her.
Here’s the photo! It’s Momo by the way, she texts.
Not 30 seconds later she gets the reply: It really is a wonderful picture. I’ll cherish it. Thank you, Momo.
Momo half puts Mina out of her mind after that. She thinks of her every once in a while. Usually while she’s going through her old photos. But most of the time, she focuses on her friends and her classes, which are getting harder as midterms approach.
The midterm assignment for the photography class is going to be a challenge. The hardest one yet, but Momo supposes that is the point. Until now, they’ve been focusing their efforts on still subjects: landscapes, portraits, architecture. Their midterm assignment is to take a picture of someone in motion. And not just anyone. Unlike in their previous assignments where the professor had allowed them to pick their subjects, this time they are being told what to do.
The midterm dance recital is coming up soon and they need a poster. A few years back, the ballet instructor had mentioned this casually to their professor and had asked him if he’d take a photo for their poster. He had said that he had an even better idea and had decided that his students would take the photos for a midterm assignment. The student whose photo got selected for the poster was given an automatic A on the midterm. And so, a tradition had been born.
Now, three years later, Momo finds herself next to Chaeyoung and her classmates filing into the dance theater where the ballet students will have their dress rehearsal and they can take photos freely. They’re given a few rules: they have to stay off stage, can’t call out to the dancers to get them to look a certain way or do a certain thing, and they have to be as unobtrusive as possible.
They are allowed to choose where they want to shoot from and move around as much as they want as long as they are quiet about it. Most of the class sets up at first in the first row, wanting to be as close as possible. Not Momo. She knows the angle will be off from there and moves until she’s about half of the rows back, at the point where the slanted floor of the theater matches the height of the stage. Chaeyoung has other ideas and she and a couple of their classmates make their way up into the first balcony.
The dress rehearsal is supposed to approximate the actual day of the performance as closely as possible. Momo really feels like a member of the audience when the first team of three dancers enter the stage. They move smoothly, gracefully and Momo loves the photos she gets of them. Ballet is really a photographable dance, designed above all else to look beautiful. The lines of their arms to their torsos to the tips of their toes are all perfectly drawn. It makes it easy to frame them, capture their movements and make them look perfect against the darkened backdrop.
Momo is in heaven. This kind of thing is her bread and butter. She loves, loves, loves taking pictures of people being beautiful. She snaps photo after photo, loving each one better than the last. In between sets, she flips through the photos she’s taken, admiring the better ones, and feeling a burst of pride that she’s been able to capture it all so well. She isn’t so confident to think that she’s guaranteed a winning spot for the poster, but she hopes with these photos that she’ll at least have a fighting chance.
Then, the ballet instructor announces the next act. On the night of the actual performance the audience will have programs but since the students in the photography class are flying blind, she’s been letting them know the names of students performing, their year, and the piece. For the first time so far, the instructor announces a solo act.
“Receiving the award for best first-year solo performance at our midterm evaluations, we have Myoui Mina performing Michel Fokine’s Dying Swan.”
Momo’s eyes shoot up so quickly from her camera that her neck cracks. The music starts slowly, what sounds like a harp, followed by a mournful sounding cello. And then, from the left side of the stage enters Mina. She’s on tip toe, her back to the audience, arms out to the side, floating like wings. Momo raises her camera but for the first time is heavily torn between taking photos and just watching the performance.
But Momo will never pass up an opportunity to take a photo of Mina. Certainly not when she looks like this. Her hair is done up in an impeccable bun, a band of feathers around the crown of her head. She’s wearing a simple, white leotard with a wide, feathered tutu over light-colored stockings. She looks like a swan. Graceful, proud. The lights of the theater accentuate the muscles of her back and arms.
Momo takes a picture, then another one, then another one. The dance itself seems simple in comparison to the other dances that Momo has seen tonight. There’s no jumping, no rapid twirling, but it is impossibly clear even to her untrained eye the amount of control and precision that is needed to make it look so smooth, so effortless.
Momo watches the performance through the viewfinder of her camera. Watches as Mina bends and arches, stretches her arms wide, brings them low, rises on her toes, drops down, twirls. Midway through the performance a sort of quiet desperation seems to build in the music and the dance and Momo is reminded of the title. The Dying Swan. It’s unmistakable what’s happening as Mina slowly lowers her body to the stage, arms still outstretched as if trying to fly despite falling. And the dance ends sadly, with Mina on the floor, bent at the waist, arms gracefully laid across her legs. It’s such a graceful pose and yet it manages to portray the heartbreaking death of something beautiful. Momo takes as many pictures as she can as the light on the stage dims.
The lights rise again, and Mina stands, looking out at the audience and giving a little bow. As she rises, she looks out over the seats as if trying to find someone. And then her eyes meet Momo’s, and her expression softens into a smile. Momo instinctively gives her a little wave and gets one in return.
The rest of the performances, even the solo performances by the senior students do not hold Momo’s attention in the same way Mina’s had. They can’t compare. Even if she recognizes that their technique is better, their moves more advanced, they don’t have that thing that Mina has that makes it impossible to look away. Eventually the performances end. All of the ballerinas come up on stage for a final bow and the photography professor has the class thank them for letting them take photos. Momo watches Mina and Mina only but she’s a little surprised to find that Mina seems to only have eyes for her as well. Mina smiles and Momo is compelled to smile back.
The photography students are dismissed after each being told to pick their three favorite photos of the night to submit for the midterm. The ballerinas are told to stay so that they can discuss the rehearsal. But before Momo can vacate the theater, Mina rushes to kneel at the edge of the stage and gestures her over.
“Are you busy after this? Can you wait for me to be done?” she says in a rush, glancing back at her classmates who have started to gather around their instructor.
“Uh, sure. I can wait.”
“Okay, thank you!” Mina says, speaking even as she stands and rushes to join the group.
Momo is left a little flustered, a little bewildered, but she goes outside the theater to wait in the main lobby of the arts center. She bides her time by uploading the photos from the camera to her computer so that she can get a better look at them. As expected, the photos of Mina stand head and shoulders above the rest.
And in the midst of all of them, there is one particular photo that Momo wants engraved on the backs of her eyelids. It’s from a little past midway through the performance, Mina stands on one leg, on tiptoe, with her other leg outstretched behind her and her arms lifted gracefully above her head as if trying to take flight. The swan’s last, dying attempt to reach the skies. It’s such a beautiful picture that Momo finds herself just staring at it, trying to soak in every detail of it.
This, this is why she loves photography. This moment, in the dance had been so fleeting. It was just a momentary pose, quickly abandoned to go on to the next movement. But here it is, frozen, so that Momo can relive it and memorize the lines of Mina’s legs, the grace held even in her fingertips, the beautifully resigned expression on her face as the swan comes to terms with death.
Momo has the urge again to keep this photo to herself, to guard it close to her heart. But she knows that if she wants to win the midterm competition and secure herself an A, this would be her first choice. There are no others, none that compare, none that she is so sure of as this one. She prepares this photo, another of Mina towards the end of the dance, sat on the floor and, because she doesn’t want to only hand in photos of Mina, a picture of one of the senior dancers mid jump. It’s also a beautiful photo. Momo’s timing had been perfect, capturing the exact moment at the peak of the jump where the dancer’s arms and legs were fully extended. It’s an impressive move, and a good picture. Mina’s is better.
She sends in the photos she likes to her professor, just as her phone buzzes with a text.
I’m done. Sorry I took so long. Are you still waiting?
Momo smiles and feels her heart rate pick up.
Yes. I’m in the lobby.
Okay! Be there in a sec.
Momo packs up her laptop and camera and stands just as Mina comes around the corner. Her hair is still up, but the flower crown has been removed. The tutu is gone as well, and she stands in sweats and a cardigan pulled over her white leotard.
“Hi,” Mina says bashfully.
She seems to be blushing and Momo wonders if the adrenaline of the performance is still with her.
“Hello,” Momo says. “You looked incredible out there. I don’t know anything about ballet but… you looked wonderful.”
“Did you get your photos?”
“Yup!” Momo replies, patting her camera bag. “I sent in my favorites. Two of them were of you.”
The blush in Mina’s cheeks darkens.
“Really?”
“Yes, of course. It would have been all three, because I think you looked the best out there, but I thought I should mix it up a little.”
Mina doesn’t seem to know how to respond to that, ducking her face a little and then looking up, not quite meeting Momo’s eyes.
“Can I see them?” Mina asks. “The photos you chose?”
“Oh, sure,” Momo says. “Gimme a sec.”
She struggles to get her laptop out of her bag as Mina takes a seat on the bench that Momo had previously been occupying. Once she has her laptop out Momo sits next to her. She pulls up the photos of the night, flipping through the album quickly.
“Wait, slow down,” Mina says, reaching out to rest her hand over Momo’s.
It does the trick of stilling Momo’s hand, stopping it from clicking forward. Also does the trick in stilling Momo’s thoughts entirely for a second. Mina’s hand is soft and warm, and Momo feels overwhelmed by the presence of it.
“These aren’t of you though,” Momo says, and she wonders if Mina can hear that she sounds a little breathless.
“I know, but I want to see your photos anyway. These are beautiful.”
Momo flips through the photos more slowly. Mina has a good eye. Or at least a similar one to Momo because she compliments the photos that Momo likes best. That gives her hope that Mina will like the photos that Momo took of her. It’s only as she’s flipping through the photos of the performance right before Mina’s that Momo realizes that she’s really nervous to have Mina look at the photos of her. The kind of nervous where her hands are sweating, and her heart is racing, and Momo starts clicking through the photos a little more slowly just to give herself time to mentally prepare.
The first photo of Mina is okay at best. When Mina had entered the stage, the lights had been pretty low, only getting brighter as she moved closer to the center. As such, she stands in shadow and many of the finer details are lost. But as Momo clicks through the photos, they become clearer. Mina, who had previously commented every couple of photos, to tell Momo which ones she liked best becomes disturbingly quiet. It makes Momo’s nervousness increase, and she fidgets with the seam of her jeans and bites her lower lip. She hopes that Mina will say something, anything but she stays silent, instead leaning in a little closer. Their shoulders brush and Momo’s heart skips.
Eventually they reach The Photo. The one that Momo is most certain about. If Mina doesn’t like this one… well, Momo’s not sure what she’ll do, but she knows that it’ll hurt.
“This is,” Momo says and then clears her voice because for some reason she’s gotten a little hoarse. “This is one of the ones I sent in for the assignment.”
Mina leans in a little closer, her shoulder now pressing much more solidly against Momo’s. It’s a little overwhelming.
“It’s beautiful, Momo,” Mina says, her voice awed. “I’ve… I’ve watched so much footage at this point of myself doing this dance. We record a lot of practices so that we can go back and check for mistakes. This performance was recorded as well, and I watched it just now. So I’ve seen myself dancing before but… I’ve never… it’s never looked like this.”
Mina turns to look Momo in the eye and their faces are really quite close now. Mina is breathtaking this close, and Momo wishes she could take photos with her eyes so that she could capture this view permanently, but she settles for just trying to remember.
“You are really, really talented Momo,” Mina says. “I mean it. This photo… it’s beautiful. If you don’t get an A for your midterm, there’s no justice in the world.”
“It’s just cause I had a good subject,” Momo manages to choke out. Mina is still so close, and Momo thinks she might faint soon.
Mina’s eyes flicker down to Momo’s lips for a split second and then she’s hastily pulling away, clearing her throat as she does.
“You flatter me too much,” she says.
“No, I’m serious,” Momo replies. “I love taking your photos. You were so good too. I wish I’d been able to watch your performance normally.”
“Then come to the actual performance,” Mina says. “It’s a week from tomorrow. I’ll send you a free ticket and everything.”
“I can buy my own ticket,” Momo assures her. “I don’t mind.”
Momo is flattered. She knows that the dancers only get a couple of tickets to give to friends or family. The fact that Mina would give it to her feels a little undeserved.
“No, really, I want you there,” Mina says. “My family is in Japan so they won’t be there, and my friends can buy their own tickets. I would rather… I want you there. Please? Think of it as a thank you for the photo.”
Momo is helpless to do anything but agree. Mina grins wide when she nods. It’s the brightest smile that Momo has seen from her and it’s gummy and cute. Momo loves it, wants desperately to see more of it. It becomes very clear to her very quickly that she has developed a crush on this girl. Which is insane because she barely knows her. But it’s also undeniable from the way her heart rate picks up when Mina presses a grateful kiss to her cheek.
“I’ll text you the details,” Mina says, standing quickly. “And please, send me that photo. Even if it doesn’t make the poster, I still would like to have it.”
Momo nods mutely as she watches Mina give her a wave goodbye and then scuttle out of the arts building.
Momo gets the A and the photo of Mina that she took is suddenly plastered on every message board on campus. Chaeyoung whistles lowly when sees it and grins at Momo.
“That’s such a great photo. I’m jealous but you definitely deserve it.”
Momo and Mina have been texting. It started with Mina sending Momo the promised ticket. And then had been followed by Mina sending a Momo a quick picture of the poster that she had seen hanging in the arts building followed by a very large number of exclamation points and emojis.
This is yours right? Mina had sent right after, as if she was unsure.
Yeah
Congratulations!!! You deserve it! And thank you for making me the face of the dance show lol
You deserve it too. And thank you for the ticket. I can’t wait to see you perform again.
And then it had spiraled from there. Mina had asked if Momo knew anything about ballet (no) and if she liked dance (yes) and Momo had asked when Mina had started dancing (age 6) and did she want to be a ballerina professionally (yes). The texts were infrequent, but they were consistent until the day of the showcase.
Are you nervous? Momo texts the morning of.
I feel like I’m going to throw up.
You’ll do great
You’re still coming right?
Of course. I’ve been looking forward to this for the last week.
The blushing smiling emoji that Mina sends back is enough for Momo to picture the bashful expression she’s making, and it makes her smile stupidly at her phone. Chaeyoung makes kissy faces at her. She had been relentless in her teasing about Mina after catching Momo texting her during class.
She seems to think that Mina likes her too. Momo is less convinced. Mina likes her pictures, which Momo definitely appreciates. But they barely know each other so it would be presumptuous to believe that someone like Mina would like someone like her just based off two interactions and some texting.
“But you like her based off just two interactions and some texting,” Chaeyoung shoots back.
Momo can’t come up with a quick response but that’s obviously different. Mina is… radiant and Momo is just Momo. She doesn’t have bad self-esteem per se, but she think she estimates herself pretty fairly all things considered. There isn’t anything particularly special about her apart from her photography skills and while she is proud of them there is also nothing about herself that she’s more critical of. But Mina is… pretty incredible. She’s top of her class in ballet, has a nearly perfect GPA, is graceful, elegant, beautiful. Anyone would fall for her immediately. So it’s different. Chaeyoung just doesn’t understand.
“I still think you should ask her out,” Chaeyoung says over lunch. “But if you’re too chicken I get it.”
Momo blushes but can’t answer properly. She isn’t sure she would be physically capable of getting out the words when she’s standing in front of Mina. But still, her heart skips a beat when she sees Mina’s name on her phone alerting her to a new message. She’s starting to realize that this situation is quickly becoming untenable.
She goes back and forth on it for about an hour, but ultimately decides on buying flowers. She doesn’t know what Mina likes or what is traditional for a dance performance, so she just settles of a bouquet of mostly white flowers that remind her of Mina’s tutu.
She feels silly carrying it into the theater. She also feels silly for how much she dressed up. Most people aren’t as formal because, at the end of the day, it's just a school recital. But still, Momo had put her hair up into the nicest ponytail she could manage and had slipped into her most appropriate little black dress. She’d even put on make-up which normally she thinks is way too much effort.
She sits awkwardly in the seat that Mina had given her and finds herself next to a very pretty girl who turns to her immediately as she sits with bright eyes.
“Are you Momo?” she asks in rapid-fire Japanese, her Kansai accent shining through bright and clear.
“Uh, yes,” Momo replies, confused and a little thrown off by the brightness of this girl.
“Hi, I’m Sana.”
Momo vaguely remembers Mina mentioning a Sana. Her best friend? She doesn’t know much about her.
“Mina has told me a lot about you. She showed me the photos you took. They’re so, so beautiful. Do you think you could take my photo sometime?”
“Oh, uh, sure if you’d like.”
The girl squeals gratefully.
“Thank you! Oh, wow, I’m so glad you showed up. For some reason Mina was really nervous that you wouldn’t. She worries about dumb stuff sometimes though. Those flowers are really pretty by the way. She’s going to love them.”
Momo smiles. She’s glad. The reassurance that she made a good choice helps settle the nerves that she’s feeling at seeing Mina after the show.
“I just wanted to get something to congratulate her.”
Sana doesn’t respond but her smile softens into something very gentle. Before Momo can say anything to try to continue the conversation, the lights to the theater fall, signaling the start of the show. The first few performances are nice. It’s more fun to watch them without the camera between them. But Momo feels bad because she doesn’t give them her full attention. She’s really just waiting for Mina to appear. Sana seems to be in a similar boat because she’s antsy and squirmy right up until the moment the first notes of Mina’s song play.
It’s a completely different experience to watch Mina without the pressure of having to take a photo. She looks even more beautiful tonight compared to last time if that’s even possible. Momo has this feeling in her chest as she starts to move towards center stage. Just wait, she thinks, addressing the rest of the audience in her mind. She’s going to blow you all away.
Whether Mina does blow them all away Momo will never know, but she knows that she herself is breathless throughout the whole performance. Despite being glad that she can watch the performance without having to quint through her viewfinder, she finds herself itching to take more photos. She wants to immortalize this moment, and more so, immortalize this feeling that she’s having. It’s butterflies and tingles and Momo feels a little warm all over. Mina is just so…
Her dance ends perfectly, and Momo nearly stands up out of her seat to clap. But that would have been embarrassing so she stays seated with the rest of the audience though maybe she claps a little harder than them. Sana lets out a little appreciative whistle and Mina catches her eye and grins. And then her eyes slide over to Momo’s seat and her smile softens and a blush rises to her cheeks visible in the bright lights despite the full performance make-up she has on. Momo gives her a little wave and Mina’s smile widens.
For the rest of the performances, Momo is antsy. She has nothing against the other dancers. The seniors are particularly wonderful to watch. Incredible really, the effort of the years clearly paying off, but Momo wants the show to be over so that she can meet Mina finally. Sana is also back to fidgeting as well. But finally, the show ends, all of the dancers come out on the stage for a final bow and this time Momo stands with the rest of the audience to clap for them but she’s really just cheering for one person.
She files out of the theater with Sana by her side. Sana seems to have taken a liking to her, or maybe she’s just like this with everyone because she stands by Momo’s side, speaking to her non-stop. She doesn’t seem to mind that Momo’s answers are largely monosyllabic. Now that the performance is over, Momo is getting even more nervous by the second. Maybe the flowers were overkill. Sana didn’t bring any and they’re best friends. Momo has only really known Mina for like… a week, their previous encounter barely counting as a meeting. She wonders if her feelings will be too obvious, and if they are, will it scare Mina off? Momo hopes not.
Eventually, the dancers join the spectators the lobby. Parents hug their children, boyfriends hand their girlfriends flowers, and Sana throws herself into Mina’s arms as soon as she’s in sight.
“Mitaaaanggg,” she squeals. “You did so amazing. You were the best one out there. You’re perfect and beautiful and I’m so proud of you.”
Mina blushes but hugs Sana back, laughing at her friend’s exuberance. Momo stands off to the side awkwardly, not wanting to intrude. She isn’t sure where she fits into this reunion, and she has the urge to hide the flowers behind her back. Mina quickly catches her eye though, even as Sana continues to sing her praises. She smiles, eyeing the flowers in Momo’s hands and Momo feels stupid that she’s still holding them, so she awkwardly extends them out to her.
“Um, I got these for you,” she says, as if there would be any other reason that she would be standing in this lobby with flowers.
Mina’s smile turns her eyes into crescents.
“Thank you,” she says, taking them carefully. “They’re gorgeous.”
“You, uh, you did really well,” Momo says.
“Thank you. I really appreciate you coming. More than you know,” Mina replies.
“Uh, you’re welcome. You look beautiful, by the way.”
Mina ducks her head and Momo hears a giggle and looks up to see Sana looking at her with an amused expression. It occurs to her that she sounded really flirty just then even if that wasn’t her intention. She starts to panic, wondering if she’s stepped too far, made Mina uncomfortable. But then Mina looks up and her cheeks are undeniably flushed and there’s a smile on her face and…
“Thank you,” she says. “You, uh, you look really, really pretty too.”
Her face is so pink now that Momo wonders if she would be able to feel the warmth coming off of her cheeks if she touched them. Her hands twitch at her sides. For a second, they just stare at each other. Momo doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want Mina to leave either but she isn’t sure what else there is to say. Sana is her saving grace because she clears her throat, breaking the silence between them.
“Well, Mina, I’ll see you in our room later? I’ll let you two… talk some more.”
Or maybe not her saving grace because the next thing Momo knows, Sana is offering to take the flowers back to the dorm to clear Mina’s hands because she ‘might need them later’ and then she’s gone. Momo is left staring at Mina again. Mina shifts a little awkwardly and then holds out her hand to Momo.
“Do you want to go for a walk?”
It’s a strange request if Momo thinks about it. It’s nearing 9:30pm and Mina is still in her full stage makeup and leotard, only having traded out her tutu for some sweatpants. But it’s the excuse that Momo needs to stay close to her, so she doesn’t hesitate in taking Mina’s hand and nodding her agreement. They walk out of the theater into the cool fall air. It’s a nice night, unseasonably warm, which is perfect because Momo’s shoulders are bare, and Mina’s leotard is thin.
“Was it better without the camera?” Mina asks.
“Yes,” Momo replies without hesitation. “I love my camera, but sometimes… sometimes you have to live in the moment.”
“You think you can’t do that with the camera?”
“I take photos because there are things that I want to remember. Moments I want to freeze in time forever so that I can keep them close even after the moment has passed. But if you hold on too closely to single snap shots sometimes you lose the bigger picture.”
Mina hums thoughtful and then squeezes Momo’s hand. Momo feels lightning up her arm.
“I understand it though,” she says, “Wanting to freeze moments. If I could I’d want to freeze this one.”
“Really? Why?”
“Because you’re in in it,” Mina says and her voice is very, very quiet but determined, as she she’s forcing herself to get these words out.
Momo stops walking. Her heart is thumping in her chest, and she doesn’t think she can focus on anything other than Mina right now, certainly not the chore of placing one foot in front of the other.
“What do you mean?” she asks breathlessly.
Mina’s expression twists a little into doubt and she withdraws just slightly, but Momo squeezes her hand, tugging on it lightly to say please, please don’t pull away right now. Mina looks at her, her brown eyes wide and reflecting the streetlights around them.
“I just… I know this is fast and we’ve only met like… twice but… I just. There’s something about you Momo,” Mina says. “I can’t explain it. I just… I’m really glad you came tonight, happier than I thought I’d be and just getting to walk next to you like this… I’m just happy.”
Momo nods and steps a little closer.
“I’m happy too,” she confesses. “I… like walking with you.”
Mina might be shaking, or maybe it’s Momo, she’s not sure except their entwined hands are trembling just a little. And Momo has been drawn to this girl since she first saw her under the tree on the quad, and then in the coffee shop. She’d been drawn to her even more when she’d been dancing on stage and now, under the streetlight Momo feels drawn to her some more. She wants to be closer, and she gives in to the urge, moving slowly until her lips meet Mina’s in a pure, blissful second.
It’s a quick kiss. Momo is just testing the waters more than anything. As long as Mina doesn’t slap her or run away screaming, she’ll consider it a success. But even better, Mina stays, her eyes closed as Momo pulls away and for a second Momo just gets to look at her, so beautiful, before Mina’s eyes flutter open. She smiles and Momo can’t help but smile back.
“Do you want to maybe go out sometime?” Mina asks shyly.
Momo presses a kiss to her cheek and whispers a ‘yes’ in her ear.
Their new apartment is a huge upgrade from the apartment Momo had been sharing with Nayeon and Jeongyeon. It’s courtesy of the steady stream of freelance work that she had been able to find recently combined with the money that Mina receives from the new ballet company. It’s not a massive apartment, just a one-bedroom but there’s enough space that Momo doesn’t feel like the walls are closing in on her, and the building is much, much cleaner than the last one.
“Are you done unpacking, babe?”
Mina is watching Momo and while her question was mild, her expression is reproachful as if she already knows that the answer is no. Momo hasn’t finished unpacking the box that Mina assigned to her, far, far too overwhelmed with the fact that this is their apartment. There are times where Momo still can’t believe that Mina is still by her side. Every next step they’ve taken together has been terrifying for Momo from their first kiss to their first date to their first anniversary, and now, to moving in together. She feels so, so, so lucky that Mina has stayed with her.
“Baby,” Mina says, her voice a little louder as Momo has once again zoned out. “Momoring, please can you keep unpacking? I don’t want to live in the middle of all of these boxes.”
Momo looks at her girlfriend of nearly four years and decides that she’s not super interested in the boxes. Mina can tolerate them for a little longer. Momo, on the other hand, can’t tolerate not kissing Mina for a second longer. She takes the couple steps to wrap her arm around Mina’s waist and pull her in. She nudges Mina’s nose and then kisses her, her lips pressing firmly as Mina makes a muffled sound of surprise. It doesn’t stop her from returning the kiss though.
“Baby,” Mina breathes out between kisses. “We really need to unpack.”
“I know,” Momo says, and she does. There are way too many boxes in the living room, and she’s stubbed her toe at least three times already. “I’m just… so happy.”
Mina smiles and then leans in to give Momo a long, slow kiss. For a minute, Momo thinks that she’s managed to successfully distract her. But it’s short lived.
“I’m really happy too. But I’ll be happier when you unpack these boxes,” Mina says, giving Momo one last peck before extracting herself from Momo’s grip.
Momo sighs but she knows Mina is right. Mina is usually right, and Momo has gotten very used to just accepting that. She uses the boxcutter to cut off the tape holding the box closed and peeks inside. She hopes it’s not kitchen stuff. It’s annoying trying to organize a new kitchen and while Momo is the better cook, Mina is definitely more organized. That should be her job. Instead of pots and pans though, she’s greeted by the much more appealing sight of picture frames. This is something that she’s actually very excited to unpack. These are all the pictures that Momo had given Mina over the last few years.
There’s the photo from the ballet in a larger black frame. It’s a photo that Mina has used as the banner on her LinkedIn profile ever since Momo first sent it to her and it’s still one of Momo’s favorites. There are pictures of Mina from their first date, down by the Han river where Momo had cautiously brought her camera and then spent a good half of the date just recording the moment. There’s a smaller frame, one that Mina keeps on her bedside table of the two of them on that date, taken with Mina’s cell phone camera in selfie mode.
There’s a picture of both of them side by side after Mina’s sophomore year ballet recital, taken by Chaeyoung’s deft hand. There’s one of Mina in an overlarge white t-shirt and leg warmers drinking coffee curled up on the windowsill of her dorm room. This photo has a partner that no one but Momo gets to see of Mina in that same t-shirt and nothing else looking down at the camera as she straddles Momo’s thighs. And a photo from graduation, again taken by Chaeyoung, of the two of them hand in hand, foreheads pressed together as best they could without messing up their caps.
Momo pulls out the last photo from the box, already knowing which one it is. It’s the one from the cafe printed in a medium size wooden frame. To Momo, that Mina looks so young now compared to the Mina standing across from her but she’s no less captivating. It’s surprising to her how she can look at this photo differently and see all the things that have become familiar to her that she didn’t notice when it was first taken. She stares at it fondly, tracing the lines of Mina’s face that she now knows so well.
“Momo,” Mina says, pulling Momo back out of her reverie, her tone properly annoyed now. “I unpacked three boxes in the time it took you to unpack that one and now you’re just staring off into space. I want this done before we go to bed, please.”
Momo doesn’t say anything and instead she turns the photo around for Mina to see. Predictably (to Momo at least, she’s learned all of Mina’s mannerisms by now), Mina softens immediately upon seeing it. Not only does she seem to immediately forgive Momo for her dallying, but she drops the towels back into the box she was unpacking and walks over to join Momo. She runs her fingers fondly over the picture and then presses a gentle kiss to Momo’s cheek.
“I remember that day,” she says. “You were so cute.”
Momo scowls.
“I wasn’t cute.”
“You were. Adorable. Adorably awkward and so, so cute. I think I liked you from that moment. You were so earnest.”
Momo blushes at the memory. She’s revisited it a number of times in the last few years, remembering that moment every time she feels so lucky to have Mina. Because that was the moment that started it all really, from her having a random burst of courage to talk to Mina and tell her that she’d taken her photo.
“This is my favorite photo you’ve taken of me,” Mina continues.
“Really? There are better ones.”
And it’s true. While at the time, that photo had felt like a crowning achievement to Momo, looking back on it there was still a lot she had to learn. The photo isn’t bad per se, but the evidence of her inexperience is there now that she knows where to look for it.
“Maybe,” Mina says. “But this was the first one. The one that started it all.”
In that moment, Momo realizes that she never told Mina. In the four years they’ve been together, it never occurred to her to bring up the first photo, mostly forgotten by all of the hundreds of photos Momo had taken since. The cafe photo might have started it for Mina, but the one under the tree started it for Momo. She thinks about fessing up right then, but then has a better idea.
Over the years, as Momo had unfettered access to taking pictures of Mina, she’d built an album on her computer. There are so many pictures that it would take her several hours to look through all of them if she didn’t know exactly where this particular picture was saved. She hasn’t looked at it in years, hasn’t needed to with the real thing in front of her and new pictures to look at all the time. But she looks at it now. An immortalized moment. The first time she laid eyes on Mina.
She wonders how many people have this. Not only a clear, clear memory of the first time they saw the love of their lives, but physical evidence of it, something so substantial that as she’s looking at the photo, Momo feels herself being transported back to her first year. Chaeyoung lying on the grass to her left and the sun warm on Momo’s face as she lines up the shot of this perfect girl that caught her eye.
As with the photo in the cafe, the photo is amateurish. The lighting is off. The framing is wrong. With all the things that Momo has learned in the last few years, she can think of at least seven things she would have recommended her younger self change. But even if she could… she never would. It feels like the immature photography style lends itself to paint Momo’s own immaturity, the whole mess of things she still didn’t know. Including the fact that this girl, this random girl on the quad was going to be the love of her life.
She goes back to the photo on her computer at least once a week for nearly four months before she makes a decision. She has it printed, blown up to 3x4 feet and framed in the prettiest frame she can find. She makes Mina her favorite meal, sets the lights low, and waits nervously for Mina to come home from work. She walks laps around the living room until she gets dizzy and then checks and re-checks the oven in case the food isn’t cooking right. When she hears the lock turn in the door she nearly jumps out of her skin.
“Tadaima,” she hears Mina call, and she responds with her usual, “Okaeri.”
She waits anxiously for Mina to notice the very obvious romantic set up as she hangs up her coat and kicks off her toes. Eventually, Mina does turn around and her eyes go wide.
“What’s all this? Is there a special occasion?”
“Uh, yes kind of?” Momo replies. “Just uh, just take a seat.”
Mina does, looking at Momo happily as she pours her a glass of her favorite wine with shaking hands. When Momo puts down the bottle, Mina takes her hand and squeezes it gently.
“Are you okay, baby? I haven’t seen you this nervous since our first date.”
Momo thinks back to the memory, how she’d been sure her heart was going to beat out of her chest and had even googled the symptoms of a heart attack as she’d waited for Mina come down from her dorm. She feels that way now as well. Maybe even worse actually.
“I’m okay,” she mumbles, and it doesn’t convince Mina if the arch of her eyebrow is any indicator, but Momo doesn’t care. It’ll all become clear to her girlfriend soon enough.
She serves them dinner and they chat idly over the meal - how was your day? Oh, did you hear about that the girl that Chaeyoung met? I think tomorrow it’s going rain. Eventually though, once their plates have been emptied, Mina gives up the pretense that this is just a normal dinner and falls silent, waiting for Momo to explain. Momo takes a few calming breaths and then reaches out to hold Mina’s hands.
“I have a secret,” Momo says. “It’s one I’ve kept from you from the moment we first met.”
Mina’s brow furrows in confusion, but she lets Momo continue.
“You know that photo of you in the cafe?”
It’s a rhetorical question, of course, the photo in question hanging on the wall just above Mina’s head. Mina nods glancing back at it briefly, clearly unsure of where Momo might be going with this.
“That’s not actually the first photo I took of you.”
Mina blinks in surprise.
“What do you mean?”
Momo lets go of Mina’s hands and stands up from the table, walking into their room to grab the framed photo she had been hiding there.
“This is the first photo I ever took of you,” she says showing it to Mina. “It was about a month or so before the cafe. The first week of classes. Prof Park had asked us to take photos of whatever we wanted, just to get used to taking photos and I went out to the quad with Chaeyoung. You probably don’t remember this day at all. It was like… a random Tuesday afternoon or something. But I saw you, reading this book, sitting under that tree and I remember thinking, I have to take her picture. And so I did. You weren’t the only person I took a picture of that day, but you were by far my favorite. So much that I never showed it to anyone, never wanted anyone else to see it because it felt private somehow. And I think that maybe… maybe the reason I felt so protective of it was because I was worried that if I showed it to anyone, they would realize that I had fallen in love with you at first sight.” Momo notices tears glittering in Mina’s eyes. “I didn’t know what it was back then, but I just… I was so drawn to you, even from that moment. And so, when I saw you for the second time that day in the cafe, I felt like I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I didn’t need a photo for class anymore. Chaeyoung had already posed for me. And I didn’t turn in that photo for my grade either, because again, it felt personal. I loved you then, already, before we’d said a word to each other. And I love you now, a million times more. With every word we’ve said to each other, every photo I’ve been taken, every kiss and every time you’ve held my hand, I’ve loved you more.”
Mina iss fully crying now, tears falling down her cheeks as she tries to hold back quiet sobs.
“Maybe I’m greedy but I want more,” Momo says, and she reaches carefully into her pocket and pulls out a small box. “I want a lifetime more of opportunities to fall in love with you. So, Myoui Mina, will you marry me?”
Momo has an armful of Mina before she can even finish the sentence.
“Yes,” Mina says, breathing the word desperately into Momo’s neck. “Yes, I’ll marry you. I’ll marry you. I love you so much, Momo. I love you so, so, so much.”
Momo grins and kisses Mina, tasting her tears and her smile. She kisses her until she can’t breathe anymore and then pulls back, pushing Mina back as well until she has enough space to grab Mina’s hand and slip the ring on her finger.
“I’ll get you one soon,” Mina says breathlessly, staring at the ring on her finger as if it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. “I love you so much.”
Mina gets annoyed sometimes when Momo gets distracted with photography, but Momo hopes just this once she’ll be forgiven as she reaches towards the closest camera she can find (she has a number scattered around the apartment) and immortalizes the expression on Mina’s face as she looks down at the ring.
“Is it a good one?” Mina asks without looking up when she hears the shutter go off.
“It’s my favorite one so far,” Momo replies. “But I think the one I take of you in a wedding dress will beat it.”
The grin that Mina has for her leaves Momo hoping that moment comes soon.