After the filming of Moonlight Cleaved by Clouds was completed, Ha-eun hadn’t had much free time.
Even at school, where they could occasionally meet, preparations for Will We Fall Together? had made it impossible to spend time together.
And with the impending start of filming for Infinite Challenge Song Festival and The Sunshine, meeting up would only become harder.
“Uh, Da-yeon, should I carry the popcorn…?”
“Do whatever you want.”
It had been a while since Da-yeon sat beside Ha-eun, watching the same movie in the same theater.
She wasn’t particularly fond of the thought of spending another extended period apart from Ha-eun.
Officially, that was the reason.
But unofficially, there was more to it.
When the heartfelt twists and turns of the movie brought tears to her eyes, Ha-eun had bolted for the bathroom as soon as the credits rolled.
Da-yeon waited silently in the lobby while Ha-eun exhaled unsteady breaths in the last stall of the bathroom.
The sound of gulping water followed soon after.
She could hear Ha-eun clearing her throat repeatedly, trying to regain her composure.
Finally, the door creaked open.
Aside from the slight redness lingering around her eyes, Ha-eun looked no different from her usual self.
“Sorry for the wait. Was it long?”
Da-yeon didn’t ask why Ha-eun had hidden her emotional state.
The fact that Ha-eun had suppressed her tears in secret only reinforced Da-yeon’s suspicions.
But for now, they were just friends spending time together.
And Da-yeon had long known a way to test her theory, even without asking directly.
“Hey, Ha-eun. You said you’d explain after the movie.”
“Explain what? …Oh, right.”
Rather than pressing about Ha-eun’s emotions, Da-yeon chose to bring up why Ha-eun had seemed unusually cheerful earlier.
She didn’t want to make Ha-eun uncomfortable.
So Ha-eun began recounting the incident at the concession stand.
“You see, when I was ordering popcorn earlier, the worker mistook you for my boyfriend—”
Still, it wasn’t the most comfortable topic either.
"A boyfriend? Of course I have one~☆"
Ha-eun couldn’t help but recall Diah’s infamous line from her first stream.
Even though the tone of voice was entirely different, it stuck in her mind, gnawing away.
“You should’ve told them I wasn’t your boyfriend!”
“But we got a free size upgrade.”
“How much is a size upgrade even worth to you? You turned me into a guy!”
“Relax, Da-yeon. From a distance, it’s hard to tell.”
When Ha-eun carelessly teased her sensitive spot, Da-yeon lost her composure and lunged at her.
Grabbing Ha-eun’s shoulders, she started shaking her while shouting in a mix of irritation and jealousy.
“It’s just because of the clothes, okay?! I get compliments about my figure when I dress up properly!”
“Honestly, from far away, it’s hard to tell—”
“At least I don’t have your chest that gives it away from a mile away, you smug brat!”
Finally realizing her mistake, Ha-eun awkwardly apologized, looking sheepish.
From then on, Ha-eun walked alongside Da-yeon, trying to gauge her mood carefully.
About ten minutes later, they arrived at a pasta restaurant near the theater.
They ordered their meals and started chatting about small, inconsequential things, filling the time with casual banter.
Neither brought up topics that might make things uncomfortable.
Most of their conversation revolved around the trivial events they had experienced during the time they hadn’t seen each other.
Still, there was one thing Da-yeon felt she needed to confirm with Ha-eun directly.
Ha-eun had just twirled a strand of pasta onto her fork when Da-yeon spoke up.
What followed was a question Da-yeon already knew the answer to.
“We’re friends, right?”
A childish question, paired with a serious expression.
Ha-eun looked puzzled for a moment before nodding in agreement.
If she had to answer with a simple yes or no, she’d always choose yes, no matter the circumstances.
“Still, I can’t vouch for you.”
“W-what?! Who asked you to vouch for me?”
“Isn’t that the kind of thing people say when they need a reference?”
From there, they focused on their meal.
Da-yeon knew from experience that it was better to let things go when Ha-eun started saying silly, out-of-place things.
After finishing their dinner without further incident, they parted ways without much fanfare.
Da-yeon felt she’d accomplished her goal of spending time with Ha-eun.
Da-yeon got into the van driven by Kim Jin-su, who had come to pick her up, and headed home.
“How’d it go with Ha-eun? Did you have fun—”
Before Jung Go-eun, Da-yeon's mother, could even finish speaking—slam!
Da-yeon stormed off to her room without so much as a greeting, slamming the door behind her.
Once inside, she began searching through her drawers for an old, worn notebook.
A remnant of her younger days, when she’d stopped at nothing to uncover Ha-eun’s acting secrets.
Though she had remembered its existence long ago, the embarrassment tied to it, a sort of personal cringe-worthy memory, had kept her from looking for it until now.
But after receiving Ha-eun’s confirmation that they were friends,
Da-yeon felt she had to confront her lingering unease about Ha-eun.
She believed that understanding Ha-eun more clearly would help her decide how to approach their relationship going forward.
She carefully flipped through the old notebook, page by page, searching for the reason why the name “Diah” felt so familiar.
She wanted to understand why Diah’s new voice, heard just days ago, struck her as oddly recognizable.
And before long, she came upon it:
The familiar two characters and all-too-recognizable traits.
The truth stared back at her from the pages of this notebook, a collection of Ha-eun’s childhood notes and thoughts.
What Da-yeon had once thought were Ha-eun’s acting secrets turned out to be Diah’s role-playing concepts as a VTuber.
In a rush, memories from those days flooded back into her mind, unfolding like a vivid panorama.
Overwhelmed, Da-yeon stumbled toward the corner of her room where her bed lay.
She climbed onto the bed and buried herself deep under the covers.
“Ugh, ah, AAAAHHHHHHHH!”
She screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice carrying all the mortifying emotions tied to the realization of her unintentional “cringe history.”
She clawed at her hair, running her hands over her face in frustration as if trying to scrub away the memories.
Even after exhausting herself with these motions, the embarrassment and confusion refused to fade, threatening to drive her insane.
[ Diah has started streaming. ]
The notification she had set months ago appeared, signaling the start of another stream.
On autopilot, her body moved, and her monitor was soon filled with Diah’s live broadcast.
There she was: the same cheerful face as always, speaking in the bright, familiar voice Da-yeon had come to know.
"Since I’m the older sister, all of you Sunrays must be newborn babies! So, just keep being my boyfriends, okay?"
"A date? Hmm…. Alright! First three people to invite me to Battle Island get a date with me, so hurry up and send your invites!"
The sharp ache deep in her chest… what was it?
Even though Da-yeon already knew about the “Red Pill” incident,
this sensation felt entirely different—something she couldn’t place, only adding to her growing confusion.
What did Ha-eun look like right now?
Was she wearing that same innocent, childlike expression as the spirit Diah while smiling brightly?
Was that smile also part of her eerily convincing act?
She couldn’t tell anymore what was real and what was fake.
Yet, she couldn’t stop herself from watching.
She couldn’t let go of either version of Ha-eun—the friend who had accepted her without reason, and the VTuber who brought her comfort.
With her face flushed crimson and her heart pounding like it might burst, Da-yeon kept her eyes locked on the screen.
The secret that was no longer a secret became, in itself, a new secret to keep from Ha-eun.
If Ha-eun ever discovered that Da-yeon had figured it out, she might lose both Diah and Ha-eun.
And no matter what, Da-yeon couldn’t risk that.
Nothing was scarier than losing them.