To everyone else, I was always the model student. The child who listened to her parents, never missed church, and studied diligently. I knew better than anyone what adults wanted to see, and I never failed their expectations. But in our family, there was one person who broke away from all of that.

My aunt, Kwon Sunyeol.

The only rebel in a strictly Christian household.

Was it because she loved women? Or was she just born that way? Eventually, she cut ties with the family. Of course, I was the exception. She was the one who had adored me since I was little, and she was the person I followed most. Even when the family refused to mention her name, we stayed in constant contact. Sometimes we met for no reason just to eat, and we talked until dawn.

My aunt and I shared a single secret.

Yes, that was all.

But strangely, that one thing was enough. Because I believed she was the only person in the world who could understand me.

I have liked her for a long time.

To be precise, I liked the freedom she possessed.

I wanted to hold that freedom in my own hands someday. So, I met women behind my parents' back. Every time, they told me the same thing: that I looked like I might disappear at any moment.

They might have been right. Because in a corner of my heart, there was always my aunt, the personification of freedom. It was only after several relationships that I realized—it wasn't that I didn't love them. I certainly liked them. I felt comfortable with them, and I liked the way they looked at me.

But it was strange.

Even while holding their hands, even while listening to their voices, I kept thinking of someone else.

The person who would leave for anywhere with just a camera. The person who never counted how much was left in her bank account. The person who lived her life without asking for anyone's permission.

Kwon Sunyeol.

I wasn't looking for a woman. I was looking for a way to get closer to her.

What I liked wasn't the existence of a woman. What I believed I loved was freedom,

And that freedom always wore the face of one person.

Kwon Sunyeol, it was you.

The aunt I knew was someone who never stayed in one place. Traveling from city to city with a camera. Someone who didn't feel anxious even if she didn't have much.

I was the exact opposite. I clung desperately to scholarships, time, and my bank balance. People said I was cold-blooded. They asked why I lived like that.

I couldn't answer. I just believed that only by becoming an adult would I earn the right to stand beside her.

Sometimes I was scared. When I thought that the things I was building up might be in a completely different direction from the life she actually wanted.

I had to keep telling myself that the age gap didn't matter.