Chapter 40 - The Shape of Us Now

Chapter 40: The Shape of Us Now

They hadn’t met in weeks.

Schedules clashed. Time slipped. Someone always had a meeting, a deadline, a last-minute reschedule.

But Crystal finally messaged:

No excuses this time. Saturday night. We’re all showing up, or I’m coming to your houses and dragging you out myself.

Aleem: Terrifying.

Ivan: Motivated.

Isabelle: On my calendar already.

They chose a place that felt familiar — a little Korean spot near campus. The same one they used to walk past, broke students with half-points left on their cards. Now they sat at the same tables — but this time, they paid in full.

There was laughter. Of course.
Crystal scolding Aleem for mispronouncing banchan.
Ivan raising one eyebrow and winning debates by blinking.
Isabelle pouring drinks too slowly, pretending not to notice.

But underneath the jokes, there was something quieter.

Gratitude.

They didn’t say it. But they all felt it.

It was Aleem who spoke first when the table went quiet.

“Have we all changed?”

Crystal answered immediately. “Yes. But in the right directions.”

Ivan leaned back. “I think we’ve become better at being… not just present, but honest. With ourselves.”

Isabelle nodded. “And with each other.”

They let that sit for a moment.

Then Crystal added, “And I like who we’re becoming. Not because we’re figuring things out. But because we’re starting to admit when we don’t have it figured out.”

Aleem smiled at that. “Growth isn’t knowing. It’s letting each other not know — without shame.”

Later that night, walking to the MRT, Ivan nudged Aleem.

“Hana’s had an effect on you.”

Aleem gave a wry smile. “And you’re suddenly poetic.”

Ivan smirked. “Maybe we’re all just… becoming people who can sit with each other’s mess and call it normal.”

Isabelle chimed in from behind, “That’s what ABIX is, right? Not a clean-cut group. Just… a space.”

Crystal: “A soft landing.”

Aleem: “A mirror.”

Ivan: “A reminder.”

Isabelle: “A beginning, again and again.”

They didn’t hug.

They didn’t cry.

But when they each stepped onto their trains that night, something stayed behind — in the laughter, in the glances, in the shared weightlessness.

They were still ABIX.

But now?

They were becoming something even more beautiful:

ABIX, after everything.