Chapter Text
“One,” swing .
“Two,” shuffle .
“Three,” swing .
The repetition is ingrained in her entire body. Yeoreum shifts to the right, placing her foot steadily on the ground before swinging her bamboo sword forward. She does this repeatedly, switching from one foot to another as the coach barks his orders.
“One,” swing .
“Two,” shuffle .
“Three,” swing .
It’s a steady beat – familiar, comfortable.
Sweat pools above her brow. Although most of the droplets are absorbed by the towel that’s placed in her helmet, a couple slide down the length of her cheek, dripping into the cloth of the uniform that covers her entire body.
The drills continue for another ten minutes before the coach blows his whistle, signaling the end to the trance-like torture.
Yeoreum groans as she pulls off the mask. Sweet air, unfiltered by her own breath and sweat, pour into her lungs, bringing life into her beaten and bruised body. Next to her, Juyeon crumples to the ground with an exaggerated sigh, long limbs extending to dissipate the accumulated heat across cool wooden floors. Yeoreum would have joined her if it weren’t for the coach’s look of disapproval sent their way.
“Get up or coach will make you do another set,” Yeoreum extends a gloved hand towards Juyeon who accepts it reluctantly.
“Ugh,” Juyeon sighs, pulling herself up unsteadily back onto her feet. “I wish he would take it easy. I think I’m going to die before we even get to regionals.”
A smile makes its way across her lips before Yeoreum can stop it. “You’re awfully confident for someone who’s lost three practice matches in a row.”
Juyeon gasps, “That’s not fair! You know I’m still recovering from that cold from last week–”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Yeoreum waves her hand dismissively, laughing at the blatant look of unfairness that colors Juyeon’s face. “That’s a good excuse.”
The coach blows the whistle again before Juyeon can respond.
“Good practice today. Everyone, go straight home and study and sleep. If I hear any of you girls loitering on the streets, I’ll make you run another ten laps.”
“Yes, Coach,” the entire team responds as a single chorus, Yeoreum and Juyeon included.
“Good. Everyone is dismissed.”
Yeoreum is midway through changing back into her school gym uniform when Juyeon taps at her shoulder.
“Tteokbokki after?”
It’s a ritual between the two of them, one that started soon after Yeoreum had joined the team.
“Let me text Yeonjung and Dayoung first.”
Juyeon nods, swinging her backpack over her shoulders. Her jacket is unzipped and her hair is completely unkempt after the workout, but Juyeon still manages to make her untidy self look good. Yeoreum is a bit jealous really because she looks like a drowned hamster after practice.
“Cool, take your time. I’ll wait by the entrance of the school.”
Yeoreum sends her a smile in response.
uyj__0803: u done yet?
yeolum_e: just finished
uyj__0803: karaoke?
yeolum_e: when?
uyj__0803: now?
yeolum_e: can’t. promised juyeon unnie i’d get tteokbokki with her
uyj__0803: … boo, u suck. lmk if u wanna go after then
dayomi99: what about me?
Yeoreum crinkles her nose as she scrolls past the two dozen stickers Dayoung spams into the group chat. They range from cute to obnoxious, though most land in the latter category.
Yeonjung, in retaliation, kicks Dayoung out of the groupchat. Yeoreum, as the broker of peace in their trio, adds her back in after a couple of seconds.
dayomi99: i hate both of u sm
uyj__0803: :)
dayomi99: choke
yeolum_e: do you want to go to karaoke too, dayoung?
dayomi99: hehe sorry i can’t actually, i’m going on an after school date with sojung unnie~ are u jealous? huh? huhhh? sad, sad singles
uyj__0803: god i hate u so fucking much
Yeoreum laughs, rolling her eyes at the usual shenanigans. It still felt surreal how quickly she was able to close the gap between the two girls, though Dayoung and Yeonjung’s innate extroversion did do most of the work. They’re a bit exhausting at times, especially with the speed of their conversations when together, but Yeoreum is just grateful the two even decided to befriend her in the first place to really lodge an official complaint. Besides, they're wonderfully kind to her despite the occasional teasing.
She finishes changing as Yeonjung and Dayoung continue to bicker in the groupchat – profanities and stickers are thrown around with wild abandon though the chat eventually ends in all three of them dissolving into giggles as a delightfully creative “you’re a snot-nosed bitch-ass punk who not even street thugs would bother because they’re afraid of your big as hell mouth you panda alien looking ass” insult ends the argument.
yeolum_e: jesus how long did that take to think of?
dayomi99: what can i say, i’m the queen of creativity
uyj__0803: lolololololololololol i concede this time
dayomi99: hehe bow to me peasant
Having packed her backpack up, Yeoreum takes a moment to contact Yeonjung independently.
yeolum_e: i’ll text after i’m done
uyj__0803: cool. meet u at the usual place. i have some errands to do first so take ur time
yeolum_e: okok, see you then
Exiting the building, Yeoreum makes her way across school grounds in the direction of the school gates. It’s a relaxing walk as the usual crowds of students are gone, having either fled the school grounds right as the bell rang or were forcibly stuck in their classrooms for overnight study.
She spots Juyeon right at the entrance, though she’s not alone. Kim Jiyeon stands at her side, a hand placed on Juyeon’s arms as they giggle about something.
Yeoreum feels almost voyeuristic as she watches them talk animatedly. There’s a strange twinge in her chest, uncomfortable and heavy, that makes her want to spin on her heels and run back into the safety of the school but the opportunity quickly passes as Juyeon spots her, waving an arm in the air to grab her attention.
“Yeoreum, you’re here!”
Yeoreum waves back awkwardly.
“Hi, sorry for taking so long. My friends started bickering again.”
“It’s all good,” Juyeon gives her an easy smile. “Plus Jiyeon was here to keep me company so I wasn’t too bored.”
Jiyeon sends a friendly grin towards Yeoreum, who, despite Jiyeon’s warmth, tenses up.
“It’s nice to meet you, Yeoreum.”
Yeoreum gives a bow, unsure of how to respond. She tries smiling at the older girl, though she’s sure her lips somehow pull into something resembling more of a grimace than a smile.
Luckily, Juyeon saves them from impending awkwardness as she wraps Jiyeon up in a swift hug before swinging an arm around Yeoreum’s shoulders to pull her close.
“Well, I have a date with this one to go to so I’ll have to say goodbye for now.”
Yeoreum blinks.
Date?
Jiyeon laughs, “Have fun, you two. I’ll see you around sometime, Yeoreum.”
“Nice to meet you, sunbae–”
“You don’t have to be so formal with Jiyeon unnie,” Juyeon says, squeezing her shoulders. “She’s a good friend of mine, despite her age.”
“I resent you calling me old.”
“Not an insult, just the truth.”
Swinging a fist into the air, Jiyeon makes her way towards Juyeon who quickly pulls Yeoreum in between their two bodies as a human-shield.
“Using a first-year as a shield. Real brave, Son Juyeon.”
Juyeon sticks her tongue out. Yeoreum can feel the girl’s breath beat gently against her ear – it sends a tickle down the length of her spine. “Yeoreum, you’ll protect me from her, right? Right?”
Yeoreum is a bit bewildered by the whole situation, but she manages to take it in stride as she tugs on Juyeon’s jacket sleeve to pull her towards the entrance. Juyeon continues to drape herself over Yeoreum’s shoulders as they somehow lumber their way outside of school and onto the streets in front.
“I’ll see you later, unnie!” Juyeon calls, waving a good-bye to the older girl who, despite her earlier threats of violence, sends them off with a pleasant smile.
Yeoreum, too, turns her head around just in time to catch the traces of affection so easily discernible across Jiyeon’s face.
“Bye.”
\\
Shy and quiet, Yeoreum had quietly suffered in the back as the newest, and youngest, member of their high-school’s kumdo team. The kumdo team itself was fairly small with most of its members having gone to the same elementary and middle school in the area before enrolling into the high school. Yeoreum, however, had moved right before the start of high school to the other side of town, far enough that there weren’t any familiar faces for her to gravitate to. So, she sat alone for the first week of practice, awkwardly trying to take as little space as she could in the corner of their gym.
It was through Juyeon’s friendliness that the two had managed to become friends. Juyeon had offered the first hand, volunteering to be her skirmish partner despite the difference in their levels. They were both called talented, geniuses in their own right, but Yeoreum could tell from the first practice fight that Juyeon’s natural-born physicality and instinct for sports outdid her own. And after a particularly rough practice – one where Yeoreum had somehow managed to lose every practice skirmish against the girl – Yeoreum had conceded her long held title of kumdo prodigy to the other. Juyeon, as if to soften the blow on Yeoreum’s bruised ego, had invited her out to a nearby food truck to buy her a serving of tteokbokki as a treat.
They were inseparable since then: friends on the team and friends off of it. Nevermind the fact that Juyeon was a whole grade above her, it didn’t stop said girl from occasionally stopping by the first-year classrooms to say hi.
Yeoreum, despite all her protests, always smiled whenever Juyeon came to visit.
They were halfway done with the school year now. The chill of the winter weather had at long last dissipated into cool spring showers. No longer did they have to wear thick winter coats, the gym uniform jacket provided enough warmth for them to wander around in.
“I can’t believe we’re already halfway through the year.”
Juyeon has been talking for the last couple of minutes but Yeoreum admittedly hadn’t been paying any attention until now. Luckily, Juyeon hadn’t taken any notice of her spaciness.
“Yeah,” Yeoreum responds, quickly swallowing the tteokbokki. “It’s weird how fast time went by. It felt like the entrance ceremony was just yesterday.”
“I know,” Juyeon nods gravely before shoving another piece of fish cake into her mouth. “Crazy how I’ll have to start preparing for the college exams soon. Ugh, I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Didn’t even realize you studied.”
“Ouch. I resent that.”
Yeoreum laughs. Juyeon, despite her attempts at maintaining a pointed glare, joins her giggling.
“Things really do change a lot in a year. I didn’t think we’d make it to regionals, but I shouldn’t have underestimated the power of having a genius first-year kumdo star like you.”
Feeling her cheeks heat up, Yeoreum ducks her head bashfully. “No, no way. I’m not as good as you were last year – far from it. You’re clearly the best on the team.”
“Ha,” Juyeon snorts. “That’s from pure strength and speed alone. I wish I could have your concentration and willpower, then maybe Coach wouldn’t always be on my case about practicing form and drills.”
Shoveling the rest of the rice cakes into her mouth, Yeoreum resorts to chewing as her excuse not to respond. Her face feels hot – probably from the spice of the tteokbokki and the heat of the metal pan in front of her – and her chest swells with a foreign feeling, but she shoves all of it down with a great, big gulp. A lump, however, remains in the middle of her throat.
Juyeon hands her a paper cup of water, patting her back. “Whoa, slow down there. You’re going to choke if you don’t chew.”
“I’m fine,” Yeoreum stammers out, though the food in her mouth makes it sound more like strangled “Imma fpoine.”
Juyeon laughs, placing a gentle hand on the top of Yeoreum’s head. It doesn’t help the heat that’s building in the pit of Yeoreum’s stomach – rather, it worsens it.
“Seriously though, you’re incredible.”
Juyeon says it with so much sincerity that Yeoreum can’t help but believe her.
\\
They separate after splitting another portion of tteokbokki and soondae. Yeoreum feels like she’s floating on clouds as she makes her way down the high school roads towards the intersection that leads towards the local university’s campus. The area is famous as a drinking and entertainment place, but there’s only one place that Yeoreum goes to amongst all the glittering neon signs.
Yeonjung, wearing an oversized hoodie and jeans, is waiting in front of their usual karaoke place with an iced coffee in hand.
“Hey,” Yeoreum greets, tapping the girl on the shoulder to get her attention.
Yeonjung smiles, the corner of her eyes crinkling into crescents as she throws an arm around Yeoreum’s shoulders. It’s familiar – Juyeon does the same thing to her all the time but the weight and shape of Yeonjung’s arm is completely different from the older girl’s. It’s a weird sort of feeling, and it’s even weirder, Yeoreum thinks, that she’s contemplating the difference between them at all.
“You look happy,” Yeonjung comments as they get settled into the coin karaoke booth.
Yeoreum jabs at the numbers of the machine. She’s trying to punch in a specific song number, but the worn out buttons aren’t responding so she keeps getting recommended an English song she’s never heard of instead.
“You have a dopey smile on your face. Did something good happen at practice?”
Yeoreum looks up for a moment, pausing her mission of pressing the correct sequential numbers to glance at Yeonjung. “Nothing really, just the usual.”
“Then,” Yeonjung raises a brow, her tone and expression kept deliberately neutral. “Did Juyeon unnie say something to you?”
Yeoreum blinks.
“Not really.”
Yeonjung responds just as slow.
“Huh.”
A shadow of something crosses her face, but Yeoreum doesn’t think too much of it as the “5” button finally presses down, allowing her to input SNSD’s “Into the New World.”
“Finally,” she grumbles, placing the machine to the side as she hands Yeonjung the other microphone.
Yeonjung takes it, warming up her vocals by doing a couple of runs as the first notes of the introduction start playing. It’s impressive how easy singing comes to the girl – the notes gliding seamlessly as she sings the scale up and then down.
“Show off,” Yeoreum shoves her shoulder against Yeonjung’s, chuckling.
Yeonjung gives her a toothy grin before launching into the first verse of the song.
\\
dayomi99 sent a photo.
dayomi99: here’s a selfie because i know you two miss me
dayomi99: …
dayomi99: stop leaving me on read!!!!!
Ice cream in hand, Yeoreum sits next to Yeonjung on the side of the curb atop some abandoned milk boxes. She opens the photo from Dayoung – a selfie of her and Sojung at some cafe – before flashing her phone screen towards Yeonjung.
“I can’t believe out of all of us Dayoung’s the first one to get into a relationship.”
Yeonjung rolls her eyes, zooming in on Dayoung’s face in an attempt to capture the most unflattering angle possible. “Yells at us for ditching her all the time when she’s the one too busy dating to spend time with us.”
dayomi99: ^^ you two better not be talking shit about me behind my back
uyj__0803: whoa, are you a psychic?
yeolum_e: i didn’t say anything, it was all yeonjung
uyj__0803: traitor!!!!!!
dayomi99: sleep with one eye open yoo yeonjung ^^
“Let’s send her a photo back.”
Yeonjung pulls out the camera app of her own phone. She motions for Yeoreum to get closer, pulling at the milk box to forcibly drag her near. Yeoreum goes as far as to lean into Yeonjung’s shoulder, pressing herself closer so that the front-facing camera of Yeonjung’s phone is able to capture the two of them easily. Yeonjung, in response, wraps a loose arm around her waist, tightening the gap.
Yeoreum glances at her, but Yeonjung is too busy adjusting the lighting on screen to notice.
“Three, two, one.”
The camera shutters once, twice.
Yeoreum taps on screen, pointing at the second picture. “This one.”
Yeonjung agrees. “Absolutely this one.”
uyj__0803: sent a photo.
uyj__0803: we’re on our own ice cream date too
uyj__0803: jealous?
Yeoreum chuckles, sending her own laughing emoji. She saves the photo onto her phone. She’s been trying to be better about saving memories, about filling her photo album with photos of friends. Lucky for her, all her friends loved taking photos so what she had initially thought would have been a challenge became more of a habit instead.
And just like all habits, this one was hard to break. Her phone, after only six months together, was filled with images of Dayoung and Yeonjung.
“Can I make this my background?” Yeonjung asks out of the blue, holding out the photo that they had just taken.
“Dayoung’s going to get mad when she finds out.”
“She’s already in my lockscreen photo so she can stop being greedy.”
I’m also on your lockscreen , Yeoreum thinks. It’s a photo of all three of them together from their first outing – a friend date to the movies.
“So? Can I?” Yeonjung nudges at her with a single finger to the cheek. It breaks Yeoreum out of her reverie.
Yeoreum turns, threatening to bite Yeonjung’s finger. “No way, I’m gross and sweaty in this photo. Pick at least one of the good ones from last week.”
Yeonjung ignores her, already replacing her background of what used to be a photo of a street cat with their new selfie. Yeoreum feels a little weird about it – a good weird though, almost as if she had received a random gift from the girl. Which, in a way, she supposes she had.
But still, Yeoreum whines at her friend, swatting her shoulder lightly in protest. “Yeonjung, why that photo?”
“Because,” Yeonjung doesn’t look up from her phone, “You look pretty.”
\\
To be frank, Yeoreum has never had much interest in romance. She’s never particularly had the opportunity to think about it in any capacity with kumdo and school dictating most of her free time.
So why does the word date scratch at her insides?
Yeoreum groans, leaning back against her desk chair as she sticks a pencil between her lip and nose, pursing them together to keep said pencil in place. She can’t concentrate on her math homework, not with the stupid little word preoccupying the empty spaces of her mind and filling it with that… that feeling that she’s not quite certain how to name yet.
The itching feeling continues to haunt her as she walks to school the next morning, eyes heavy with dark circles indicating a sleepless night.
“Oh god,” Dayoung says with an exaggerated gasp, “You look awful.”
Yeoreum, slumped over her desk with the energy equivalent of a sloth, turns her head to glare at the girl. “Thanks a lot.”
“Yeah,” Yeonjung situates herself in the empty seat in front of Yeoreum’s desk, folding her arms over the back of the chair. “You look like shit.”
“Real original.”
Yeoreum presses her forehead against the wood of her desk. She wanted to sleep – desperately so – but it had been impossible. Maybe the literature lesson would knock her out if she were lucky.
Something cold presses against the skin of her nape. Yeoreum yelps in shock, a hand flying to cover the patch of cold as she turns to glare at the culprit.
Dayoung raises both her hands in a plea of mercy, “Don’t look at me, it was Yeonjung!”
Yeonjung grins mischievously, holding a carton of ice-cold coffee milk in front of her. Yeoreum goes cross-eyed trying to read the label.
“Here, I bought this earlier on the way. You look like you need it more than me though.”
“Yeonjung…” Yeoreum grasps at the carton with both hands, “You’re the best. I could never ask for a better friend.”
“Hey! I’m here too,” Dayoung huffs.
“Yeah, yeah, I got you one too.”
Yeonjung plunges her hand into the plastic bag, rustling the contents around before pulling out a carton of strawberry milk. “For you, princess.”
“I’m on a diet–”
“Then don’t drink it.”
“I’m sorry, thank you so much, you’re the best.”
The three laugh, chatting briefly about this or another until a classmate taps Yeonjung.
“Yeonjung, Nam Dawon-sunbae is looking for you.”
“Ah, OK. I’ll be there in a second.” Yeonjung stands, pushing the chair back in place. She pinches Yeoreum’s cheeks affectionately with cold fingers before sliding away, waving goodbye to both her and Dayoung as she makes her way to the entrance of the classroom to where Dawon is waiting.
Yeoreum leans forward on her desk, trying to catch a glimpse of the upperclassman. She’s pretty – and just as tall as Yeonjung.
Dayoung swiftly takes the now-empty seat, positioning herself just as Yeonjung had. It breaks Yeoreum’s line of sight and she puffs her cheeks out in response.
“What’s bothering you?”
Yeoreum falters, taken aback by the sudden interrogation. She had forgotten just how perceptive Dayoung was – despite her playful personality, Dayoung was clearly the most intuitive of their friend group. It was just her lack of filter that prevented her from really putting that to use.
“What?”
“You know,” Dayoung swirls a finger in Yeoreum’s face, “This. You have this weird look and it’s not just because of sleep deprivation. So spill, what’s going on with you.”
Yeoreum pauses. Then, she shrugs. “Nothing.”
Dayoung places a firm hand on her shoulder. Concern is evident on her face – real concern. It makes Yeoreum feel bad enough that she sighs, her weakly constructed defense crumbling in a matter of seconds.
“OK, OK, I’ll tell you. Please stop looking at me like that.”
Playing with her fingers, Yeoreum glances at the door. Confirming that Yeonjung is preoccupied, she turns her gaze back onto Dayoung.
“How did you and Sojung unnie get together?”
Dayoung looks flabbergasted. Yeoreum immediately feels twitchy. She’s never seen the other girl fall silent before, especially with not that look of… surprise? An uncomfortable moment passes before Dayoung is able to shake herself from her shellshock, but Yeoreum’s already gone red, a prickly heat rising from her neck all the way to the corner of her ears.
“Do you like someone?”
Yeoreum catches the way Dayoung’s eyes flit to the door.
“I don’t think so?”
“But why are you suddenly curious about Sojung unnie and me? You usually gag.”
“Well,” Yeoreum stammers, “I just am.”
“You already know that after Yeonjung delightfully forced me to take the position of class president, I had to join the student council,” Dayoung shakes a fist at Yeonjung’s turned back. “And that’s where we met.”
“Yeah, I know. And then you two spent time together and decided to go out. I’m just…” Yeoreum trails off, nervously biting the inside of her cheek. “Curious about the in-between. What did it feel like?”
“Um,” now it’s Dayoung’s turn to blush. They’ve conversed a lot – obviously, they’re best friends – but it had never gone deeper than the usual banter. The three of them were somewhat reserved when it came to emotions, Yeoreum specifically always felt a deep discomfort when it came to discussing anything close to what she’s feeling.
“Sorry, that was a bit much.”
“No, no, no, no, no,” Dayoung is quick to respond, shaking her head with enough force Yeoreum is afraid she’s going to give herself whiplash in the process. “It’s fine. I was just surprised is all.”
Yeoreum nods. She’s unable to hold Dayoung’s gaze – and Dayoung, too, avoids her eyes.
“So uh, I guess it was just a natural sort of thing? I just liked spending time with her and wanted to talk to her whenever I could? And things… kind of happened from there.”
“Ah,” Yeoreum nods awkwardly.
“Yeah,” Dayoung coughs, “It wasn’t some grand gesture or anything. I think it was just a sudden realization that oh, I really like this person. And luckily she likes me too.”
“That’s… surprisingly sweet.”
“What do you mean by that?” Dayoung glares at her. The stifled atmosphere quickly dissipates to their usual friendliness as Dayoung pinches her cheek harshly, pulling the skin taut. Yeoreum flails, pushing at the girl as she begs for mercy.
Yeonjung, with her impeccable timing, returns with a confused smile.
“Did I miss something?”
“Yeoreum here–”
Yeoreum widens her eyes in panic, staring at Dayoung – begging, pleading, with the girl to not tell Yeonjung anything. It was already so awkward telling Dayoung anything, she couldn’t bear to go through that again with the other girl.
Dayoung catches on quickly. “Wanted to copy my math homework so I’m giving her a scolding.”
“Wait,” Yeonjung gasps, jaw falling open as panic grows on her face. “We had math homework?”
Yeoreum breathes a sigh of relief. Dayoung slaps her forehead with her open palm.
“Oh my fucking god, you’re both hopeless.”
\\
“You look awful.”
Yeoreum glares at Juyeon with whatever energy she could muster.
“Thanks, I’ve been hearing that all day.”
The short burst of energy given to her from the coffee milk had dissipated long ago – it probably used all of its power keeping her awake during science class which happened right after lunch. Now she’s just a husk of a person, limp and useless.
Juyeon gives her a worried look. “Can you practice today? You look like you’re going to pass out.”
“I’ll be fine,” Yeoreum yawns despite herself. “Good thing we’re only doing drills and not skirmishes.”
“Still,” Juyeon frowns. “If you need to rest, I can give Coach an excuse.”
Yeoreum smiles, placing a light hand on Juyeon’s arm to placate the girl. “I’m fine. Thanks for worrying.”
“OK, if you insist,” Juyeon isn't pleased, but she lets it slide. “But at the first sign of trouble, I’m taking you to the nurse’s.”
“Deal.”
“Good. Now let’s get going before Coach yells at us.”
Yeoreum knows how physically affectionate Juyeon is. She’s seen the girl cling onto anyone and everyone – even when she first introduced Yeonjung and Dayoung to the older girl, Juyeon had been quick to wrap them all in a tight hug. Nonetheless, it still shocks her whenever Juyeon’s hands slip into hers, gently holding each individual finger as she tugs her forward.
Yeoreum, despite herself, falls into Juyeon’s pace.
A warm tingling grows in the pit of her stomach, crawling up and down as it traverses into her fingertips. It’s unfamiliar but not unpleasant – it makes breathing a little difficult, especially since Juyeon’s scent fills all her senses. She glances at the girl, examining her nose bridge, the pull of her lips, the way she smiles as though graced with the brightness of the sun.
It’s overwhelming.
They only let go when they enter the practice room. Yeoreum can’t help but miss the sensation of the warm palm pressed against her own, the weight pressing against her chest.
The drills are simple today: a repetition of forms and swings. They keep both her body and mind preoccupied. But kumdo is all about mental fortitude, and Yeoreum isn’t called a genius for nothing. Nothing could shake her once she held the bamboo sword in her hands and nothing could force her feet from the ingrained pattern of moves that she had learned as a child.
It’s still there, coursing through her body as though it were her blood.
But today – today is different.
Today has been different.
And it bothers her that she can’t keep her mind trained on the exact angle of her downswing – how she can’t keep her toes from clipping the floor as she drags her feet from one side of the room to the other.
It’s frustrating.
Her thoughts swing like a pendulum: one side, she’s preoccupied with the speed of her footwork – the tightening of her core as she takes a deep inhale; the other, she’s back in the classroom, back to that short conversation with Dayoung about these feelings – these pesky uncertain feelings that continue to eat at her insides. It translates in the unsteadiness of her sword, the tip swaying ever so lightly, imperceptible to everyone except her.
Frustrating.
The feelings persist even as practice ends.
The earlier exhaustion is replaced by a restlessness that lingers deep in her bones, an unscratchable itch that fails to leave her despite the fatigue in her muscles.
“Going home?” Juyeon asks as they pack up, trading her kumdo gear for the familiar gym outfit.
Yeoreum nods, eyes focused on nothing in particular as her hands busy themselves with the task of tying and retying her ponytail into perfection.
“Are you?” Want to walk home together?
The second part goes unsaid as Juyeon uncharacteristically turns bashful. She’s smiling a sort of smile Yeoreum has never seen before. It’s the kind of smile where Juyeon’s lip corners upturn only a little in an attempt to hide the shyness that shines so clearly in the irises of her eyes.
“I’m meeting Jiyeon unnie after. She said she would help tutor me.”
Yeoreum doesn’t quite know what to say. Disappointment hits her chest first, followed by a rush of her heartbeat that angrily bangs against her ribs.
She feels it again, that feeling of something .
Juyeon doesn’t notice. Or if she does, she does a good job hiding it behind the bright smile she sends Yeoreum – the usual grin.
“Go home and get some rest. We can’t have our star player collapsing from sleep deprivation.”
A lump forms in her throat. Yeoreum swallows thickly, but it does little to dislodge the blockage. The only thing that saves her is the years of kumdo training – she, if anything, had learned to control her emotions long ago. It helps during matches, to clear her head and think it through rationally and push through the frustration for that sweet victory. And it worked, usually.
Thankfully, it works now because Yeoreum manages to dig up a smile from somewhere.
“Good luck studying, unnie.”
Juyeon beams back at her, patting the top of her head affectionately.
\\
Frustrating.
It's frustrating.
She's running around the track. She's run around it so many times that she's lost count. Only the setting of the sun tells her she's been here awhile – past when most clubs ended, when everyone went home.
But Yeoreum isn't ready to go home, not when the same feelings would gnaw at her until her every thought is preoccupied by it.
The running works to temporarily clear her head. The only thing she has to think of now is the strain in her legs, the burn in her lungs as she draws in breath after breath. Sweat pours down the side of her face as a reminder of the exhaustion she pushes back to continue the meditative run.
But all things come to an end.
Yeoreum nearly collapses onto the sand when she falls into a light jog and then a stilted walk. All her muscles scream in protest as they creak to a halt and her chest heaves from the effort.
Maybe she overdid it.
It takes her a little over a minute to regain her composure.
Groaning in pain, she limps her way back up the schoolyard steps to where she had dumped her belongings earlier.
"Are you done?"
Yeoreum startles, eyes round as she watches a shadow of a person stand from the top of the stairs.
"Yeonjung? What are you still doing here?"
Yeonjung shrugs, "Hi to you too. I'm just hanging around."
"Where's Dayoung?"
"Went home with Sojung unnie as usual."
"Ah." Pulling out a towel from her backpack, Yeoreum dabs at her face, pushing back the strands of hair that are plastered to her skin. "Why aren't you home?"
"You know me," Yeonjung fishes out a plastic water bottle from her backpack, handing it over to Yeoreum who accepts it gratefully. "I wanted to be alone. And I'm trying to avoid my mom – she saw that English test score and I just know she's going to wring me dry for it."
Yeoreum chuckles. "Aw, you weren't waiting for me to finish?"
"Well," Yeonjung grins bashfully as she looks past Yeoreum to glance at the twinkling skylights of the city glistening in the distance. "There's that too."
Yeoreum blinks.
She feels something jab at her heart – guilt, maybe, at having made Yeonjung wait for so long? Or maybe a twinge of something – that stupid, unknowable something.
Yeonjung, however, doesn't allow for the silence to settle as she replaces that shy look with the usual easy smile. She grasps at Yeoreum's backpack to carry alongside her own, ignoring Yeoreum's protests while doing so.
"Let's go, stinky. You desperately need a shower."
"Hey!"
Yeonjung bounds down the steps with her stuff before Yeoreum can stop her, pausing only at the closed school gates to wait for her to catch up.
Yeoreum struggles to keep up with her pace. Yeonjung falls into rhythm, matching steps with her as they walk down the road towards the bus junction.
"I can carry my own stuff," she makes a grab at her backpack handle again, but is quickly pushed back by Yeonjung's hand. The girl responds by sticking her tongue out childishly.
"You can barely walk, Reum."
Yeoreum protests, though her trembling arms prevent any successful attempt at reclaiming her stuff. Yeonjung rolls her eyes and pushes her off for the fifth time.
So Yeoreum concedes, walking in step with the girl with only the clothes on her back and phone in her pocket.
Yeonjung is quiet. Yeoreum has noticed that Yeonjung is much quieter than she seems to be; the way she acts in public, in the classroom and with Dayoung, would have people assuming she's always hyperactive and loud, but it's quite the opposite when it's just the two of them. The silence that settles in the absence of conversation is comfortable, neither having much to say except for the thoughts that ring loudly in their minds.
They're waiting at the bus stop and Yeonjung looks absolutely silly having her backpack strapped onto her back and Yeoreum's to her stomach.
"You would make an excellent girlfriend," Yeoreum says offhandedly. She takes a picture of her friend to send to the group chat – Dayoung would definitely enjoy it.
A flash of something ripples across Yeonjung's face – something bright that turns the corners of her lips upwards into a smile. Yeonjung does a bad job at suppressing it, and despite her best efforts, all her teeth are soon visible in the wide-lipped grin she sends Yeoreum's way.
The street lamps illuminate Yeonjung's face in a particular way that knocks the air from Yeoreum’s chest; time slows then stops, and she feels the Earth still beneath her feet, its rotation caught in the same gravitational pull that tugs on Yeoreum's heartstrings.
A moment passes, numb. And then it starts, the heavy thump, thump, thump – a rhythmic drumming that beats against her chest. Her heart folds over and over, then sinks suddenly into the pits of her stomach.
She feels nauseous, almost.
Yeonjung tilts her head. "Yeoreum?"
"Want to sleepover?"
It's a sudden request – she blurts it out without much thought, but the words shimmer in the air until they dissipate into the night sky.
All she knows is that she wants to stay with Yeonjung – just a little longer.
"Sure?" Yeonjung looks confused, but not in a bad way. Rather, she too looks pleased by the unexpected offer.
The lights flicker and go as the clouds cast a shadow over the moonlight. And in front of her is the same Yeonjung she's always known, the same friendly, silly, and teasing Yeonjung she's come to love and appreciate over the course of their first year.
Yeoreum feels that nauseousness, that weird, foreign sensation disappears almost as quickly as it came.
//
Yeonjung really does end up staying over. Yeoreum's parents don't mind, rather, they're delighted to see her as they enthusiastically invite her to join them for dinner and offer slices of fruits and desserts Yeoreum didn't even know they kept in the fridge. Even her younger brother goes as far as to chat up a storm with her, fully ignoring Yeoreum the entirety of dinner.
"It's like you like her more than me," she grumbles.
Her family laughs as Yeonjung teasingly taps her shoulder with her own.
When Yeoreum returns from the shower, clean and refreshed, she catches Yeonjung's voice from behind the closed door of her room. She's in an argument with whom Yeoreum assumes is her mom. The conversation is muffled so she can't hear the details, but it doesn't sound great from the way Yeonjung's voice is trembling.
She waits outside her door, sitting down on the floor as she wriggles her toes and rolls her ankles, stretching out the kinks.
There are a couple snippets she hears throughout the course of the argument, something about school and music, but the rest are rendered unintelligible by her wooden door and Yeonjung's lowered voice.
Eventually, the conversation ends.
Yeoreum waits a moment and throws the damp towel she put around her neck back over her head. Then she walks to the end of the hall, stops for a moment in front of the bathroom, and walks back to her room.
"Your turn," she says nonchalantly as she opens the door.
Yeonjung's back is turned to her and her phone is placed to the side, turned completely off.
Yeoreum reaches forward, placing a gentle hand on the other's shoulder. "Yeonjung?"
She isn't prepared to see Yeonjung's red-tinged eyes, the watery frown. But before she can say anything, Yeonjung jumps onto her feet, grabbing the borrowed pajamas as she bolts out the door without as much as a word.
Yeoreum blinks.
It takes her a moment to recover. Shaking herself from her stupor, she returns to her usual evening routine: Yeonjung clearly hadn't wanted to talk about it and Yeoreum isn't the type to press. So she goes to the kitchen, grabs a tumbler of hot water, mugs, a couple of tea packets, and returns to her room. She pulls out a low table, one they could both share, and spreads her textbooks out to study. The tea warms her stomach and the caffeine pumps much-needed energy back into her body. She feels the fog in her brain lift, slowly but surely.
She stays like this until Yeonjung returns. She smells like Yeoreum's shampoo, floral and sweet. Yeoreum’s head spins when the scent hits her, but she works through the dizziness it with practiced indifference.
“Finished.” The towel wrapped around Yeonjung’s head makes it impossible to see her expression.
"Tea?" Yeoreum offers, motioning vaguely to the floor cushion.
Yeonjung nods, taking a seat next to her.
Yeoreum sees the other's eyes flit briefly to her abandoned cell phone.
"I have peppermint, black, and green tea. Didn't know if you needed caffeine tonight or not to finish the lab report."
"God, I completely forgot we had that," Yeonjung groans, pulling out her own notebook and materials from her backpack. A crumpled up flier rolls onto the floor of Yeoreum's room, but Yeonjung quickly snatches it and shoves it between two random pages of her science textbook.
"What was that?" Yeoreum asks.
"Nothing, just some trash."
Yeoreum frowns. Yeonjung isn't one to lie – she's usually painfully honest.
But the shadows that cross over Yeonjung's face prevents Yeoreum from pressing any harder.
"Want to work on this together?" It's an obvious attempt to switch the subject and it works. Relief shows in the way Yeonjung crinkles her eyes, nodding slightly as she pulls her cushion adjacent to Yeoreum, sitting close enough that their elbows touch. Yeoreum relaxes instinctively, allowing the familiarity between them to take hold of her actions.
They finish quickly, though it's mostly Yeonjung copying the answers off of Yeoreum's notebook.
Yeoreum watches with interest as Yeonjung shuffles through her bag, pulling out a bunch of papers – cram school homework.
"Since when did you start cram school?" Yeoreum asks, taking a packet and flipping through it. She feels her eyes glaze over at the large amount of English that fills every page.
Yeonjung scowls, opening one of the math packets to start on first. "My parents are forcing me to go ever since I bombed that math final last semester."
That takes her by surprise. "You're always asking me to hang out after school though?"
"I've been skipping."
Yeoreum tilts her head, "Is that why you were on the phone?"
Yeonjung's hand freezes, pencil left floating mid-scribble. Her eyes turn to meet the other's, frown deepening. "You heard?"
"Not much," Yeoreum confesses with a shrug. "Couldn't hear much behind the door, just that you were arguing with your mom."
"Hm," Yeonjung hums a reply. Her eyes return to the problem sheet, though her pencil only returns to listlessly mark tallies on the side.
Yeoreum wonders if she's crossed a line she shouldn't have.
Yeonjung never properly responds. Instead, she starts working on the problems with her head tipped forward, purposefully avoiding Yeoreum's gaze. They sit there quietly, each doing their own thing; Yeoreum picks up a book and pretends to read for the literature assignment but she keeps her eyes focused on the math equations Yeonjung is solving. Yeonjung obviously knows she's staring because occasionally she'll raise her eyes only to quickly lower them as Yeoreum points out her mistakes silently with the eraser end of her pencil.
They do this for a while until Yeonjung finishes and Yeoreum manages to reread the same paragraph at least ten times.
Yeoreum gives up with her facade and plays around on her phone when Yeonjung moves onto the English worksheets. Dayoung is always their go-to when it comes to English problems as Yeoreum is near useless when it comes to the language. Her strengths lay with math and science, the rational stuff.
Yeonjung isn't a bad student – on the contrary, she always ranked above both her and Dayoung when it came to tests save math and English. If she actually studied, Yeoreum firmly believes that the girl could come out higher, but Yeonjung never seems to care enough about school to really try.
But they all had their own thing: Yeoreum has kumdo, Dayoung the student council, and Yeonjung has…
Yeoreum startles at her own realization.
She doesn’t know.
They are close – that’s an undeniable fact. Her two best friends are Dayoung and Yeonjung, and she knows almost everything there is to know about them. And they know almost everything about her.
Almost.
That’s the problem.
That pesky, stubborn almost .
Yeonjung, preoccupied by her homework, doesn’t notice how her head spins at five times the speed of Earth’s rotation. The gravity between them comes to light for the first time and its force is a punch to the stomach. Yeoreum feels like a meteor glancing through, tethered but distant, never quite certain where she stands in Yeonjung’s orbit or if she could continue to occupy it at all.
It unsettles her deeply.
“Reum.”
“Reum!”
Yeoreum jumps. “What?”
Yeonjung points to her phone, “Your phone has been buzzing for the past minute.”
“Oh.”
Yeonjung looks at her. There’s an unreadable expression on her face that Yeoreum is sure she’s mirroring back.
They feel like intimate strangers.
What an unpleasant phrase.
“It’s Juyeon unnie,” Yeonjung says, her voice flat.
That breaks Yeoreum from her daze.
She glances below to her lighted phone screen, swiping past the rest of her messages to get to Juyeon’s.
eeunseo._.v: are u in bed yet?
eeunseo._.v: yeoreum
eeunseo._.v: yeoreum
eeunseo._.v: yeoreum
eeunseo._.v: yeoreummmmmmmmmmmmm
eeunseo._.v: answer meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Yeoreum bites her bottom lip, suppressing a smile. She sits up without even knowing it, back rigid and straight as she holds her phone closer to her chest.
yeolum_e: no
eeunseo._.v: why not!!!!! i told u to go to bed early today!!!!
yeolum_e: i have homework
eeunseo._.v: no excuses!!
yeolum_e: so u want me to fail?
Juyeon riots in the form of stickers. She’s sending her a storm of punches, chokeholds, and other animated forms of physical punishment, but it ends on a high note as she also sends a heart and crying emoji to sweeten the online abuse. It’s funny in a way that makes Yeoreum giggle out loud. Whatever she previously felt is shoved aside to make way for the torrent that is Juyeon.
yeolum_e: are u finished?
eeunseo._.v: this is about u, not me
eeunseo._.v: :( go to bed or else i’ll have to force u
yeolum_e: how would u do that?
eeunseo._.v: i have my ways
yeolum_e: i’m calling the police
eeunseo._.v: :( :( :( :( at least sleep before 2
yeolum_e: i’ll think about it
eeunseo._.v: >:( YEOREUM!
This exchange continues until she eventually caves and promises she’ll be in bed by 2 in the morning – at least a solid five hours of sleep, which is better than what she’s been getting for the past couple of days. Juyeon even goes as far as to get her to agree to take a photo of her in bed to confirm that she indeed would keep her end of the promise.
She’s smiling at the end though, feeling more energized than she had all day.
Yeonjung doesn’t say anything as Yeoreum places her phone back onto the desk. Yeoreum, too, stays hushed, buzzing with quiet joy.
\\
They’re both lying in Yeoreum’s bed. Yeonjung had offered to take the floor and the mattress pad, but Yeoreum didn’t want the guilt of making her friend suffer on the floor as she lay in her comfortable bed. Not to mention, it gets cold at night and the bed is more than large enough to accommodate their two bodies.
Yet, they keep a fair distance between them. Neither are particularly snuggly – not even Dayoung is this touchy – but Yeonjung does have a habit of sprawling so their legs do touch slightly. It’s not awkward in any way, just comfortable.
Yeoreum does keep her end of the promise. She sends a shot of her dark room to Juyeon, making sure the blurry outline of her hand is visible even in the shadows of the night.
Juyeon responds with a giant heart and good night followed by at least ten exclamation points.
She doesn’t notice the smile on her face until Yeonjung points it out.
“I am?” Yeoreum touches the corner of her mouth, shocking herself at how big her smile actually is. “Oh.”
Yeonjung shifts so her back is turned to her. Yeoreum stops herself from reaching out and tracing the line of her spine with her fingers.
Another silence settles between them, but it’s different this time. There’s trepidation in the air.
She can tell Yeonjung isn’t sleeping – the girl always snores softly when she’s passed out – and she knows Yeonjung can also tell she’s wide awake, deep in her thoughts.
Yeonjung breaks the silence first.
“Do you like Juyeon unnie?”
It feels like a punch in the face.
The air catches in her throat.
A moment passes, then two.
“I don’t know.”
Yeonjung’s body stiffens, vertebrae by vertebrae; she can see how the silhouette of Yeonjung’s body twitches, how each muscle seems to bend as she curls forward, pulling herself away from where Yeoreum lay.
It’s times like these that Yeoreum feels lost, alone in the expansive universe of orbits and gravitational pulls.
“I really don’t know,” Yeoreum says again, more to convince herself than anything else.
She reaches forward slowly, her fingers dragging against the sheets of her bed and the cover of her blanket until she’s touching the frayed old shirt of hers that Yeonjung is wearing as pajamas. Hooking her finger into the worn fabric, she lets the pressure of gravity tug.
Yeonjung relents to the pull, letting her body unravel until their legs are touching once more. Yeoreum, too, gives into the weight.
They’re closer; her forehead is pressed against Yeonjung’s back, resting in the space right in between her shoulder blades, and the tip of her nose grazes the shirt. She can smell the florals of her shampoo – the one that perfumes Yeonjung in her own scent.
The dizziness from earlier is back, but stronger this time. Her fingers listlessly continue to dangle on.
Neither talk and neither move, not for a long, long time.
\\
She’s half-asleep when she first feels the tremors.
They’re still curled up in the same positions; Yeoreum’s fingers curved into Yeonjung’s shirt and Yeonjung’s back pressed against her nose.
Yeonjung isn’t asleep yet – far from it.
Rather, she’s unnaturally still.
Then it happens again, the shaking. It’s imperceptible at first but it quickly gathers in strength, magnifying the tiny tremors into deep, gut-wrenching shudders.
Yeonjung is crying.
Yeoreum feels it too in the way her heart quivers, numbed with the barbs of a thousand tiny needles. But she forces her breath in and out, steady and still. In through her nose, out through her mouth; deep down her chest and pushed into her stomach before the step repeats.
The air between them is silent.
Nothing is said, nothing except for the silent rasps of air, of staccato breaths, and the unmistakable sound of unfolding heartbreak.
\\
Yeonjung is gone when Yeoreum wakes in the morning.
The traces of her are still there in the form of the used mug, the cushion on the floor, her neatly folded clothes, and the warmth of the bed next to where Yeoreum had slept.
She continues to lie there, hand splayed against the heat to soak up the remains. It’s only when her mother bangs on her door for her to get up that Yeoreum dare moves to start her day.
She checks her phone first.
Nothing except a single message from Dayoung who asks only an innocent question about homework.
Her heart sinks. She fights back the bitter bile that sits at the back of her throat, swallowing hard until her head is numb, filled with nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
\\
Yeonjung doesn’t come to school.
Dayoung texts in their group chat, amused at first though that quickly sours to concern when Yeonjung fails to respond. Yeoreum, too, sends some messages out of worry, but they’re both left on read with nothing else.
She feels sick, that same lump growing bigger and bigger until bitterness is all she can taste.
Only the swing of her bamboo sword and the familiar rhythm of kumdo keeps her sane. It’s a three-hour reprieve from the anxiety that threatens to eat her alive from the inside out. The relief is temporary at best, but at least it gives her a moment to catch her breath – at least for that first day.
The second day, she feels ill with anxiety. Nothing works to keep the worry down. The kumdo sequences that previously kept her grounded, the strength in her swing nor the resistance of the air against her bamboo word, nothing keeps her from feeling that nervousness grow in the pit of her stomach.
She’s plagued by the images of that night: of Yeonjung’s shaking shoulders, of the smell of her shampoo, and the touch of the fabric beneath her fingertips.
Juyeon calls out to her, rightly concerned, but her voice gets washed out in the waves that crash against Yeoreum’s eardrums. She can barely hear anything against the tremors of that night, but she manages to fake it until the next day.
\\
It’s the third day of Yeonjung’s absence and Yeoreum feels like combusting.
Class passes by in a blur.
She’s having lunch with Dayoung and they’re talking about something but her body and mind are on autopilot the entire time. She’s going through the motions, just as she would with kumdo.
One, smile .
Two, nod .
Three, go .
Yeoreum repeats the steps over and over and over until the bell rings at the end of the day. Dayoung waves goodbye, pulling her into a tight hug and profusely apologizing before leaving for student council activities and Yeoreum is left sitting in the empty classroom with nothing but the company of a few birds that sing outside the classroom window.
Time passes – a second, a minute, an hour.
By the time she snaps to, the sun is already setting.
She missed practice.
\\
Yeoreum wanders around the near empty school.
She ignores the text messages from Juyeon, refusing to pick up even though the girl calls her about five times. She also ignores Dayoung’s messages about her whereabouts.
It makes sense to her now, Yeonjung’s need to be alone.
The worry – it’s suffocating.
Yeoreum walks down the stairs and makes her way across the building. It’s an aimless path, one filled with plodding steps and empty thoughts.
It isn’t until she hears the faint melody of a piano that she stops, having somehow wandered her way in front of the choir room. There’s someone singing inside, practicing a scale that she’s heard Yeonjung sing many times.
She knocks on the door. And just as her knuckles meet wood, a singular thud of her heart beats against her ribs. It’s painfully hopeful.
But the person who answers is not Yeonjung.
Of course it wouldn’t be.
Instead, it’s Nam Dawon.
“Sorry, the room is occupied–”
They glance at each other. Yeoreum blinks, owlish eyes gazing up at the older girl. Recognition takes hold of Dawon’s features and a softness appears on her face.
“Sorry,” Yeoreum says, already ready to walk away as she pivots her weight onto her heels to spin and go the opposite direction.
Dawon, however, doesn’t allow her to escape.
“Hey, you’re friends with Yeonjung, right?”
Yeoreum nods stiffly. Her weight shifts forward, gravity pulling at her feet so they sink heavily into the floor.
“Do you know where she’s been? I’ve been looking for her.”
She shakes her head.
Dawon frowns, “Is she sick?”
Lowering her head, Yeoreum shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Did something happen?”
Yes .
Yeoreum doesn’t answer.
“Hm. If you have her number, do you mind sending a text for me?”
Yeoreum hesitates. Dawon looks at her expectantly.
Unable to come up with a good enough excuse as to why she couldn’t text Yeonjung, she reluctantly fishes her phone out of her uniform pocket and unlocks her screen. The last message shared between them is the selfie they took that night after karaoke and ice cream.
Yeoreum wonders if Yeonjung still has it as her background photo.
It hurts to think about.
Dawon continues to wait patiently.
“Do you mind telling her that I booked her an audition spot for next Tuesday?”
Yeoreum freezes.
“Audition?”
“Yeah,” Dawon says. “For the school musical.”
The words feel like a bullet to her chest.
“School musical?”
“She told me she was interested but couldn’t make it on the original audition date. I’ve been meaning to tell her since the beginning of this week, but she wasn’t at school and I don’t have her number so.”
“Oh.”
Dawon blinks. “Did… she not tell you?”
Yeoreum shakes her head. A cold grip clamps at her heart.
“No. She didn’t.”
“Oh.”
An awkward tension fills the air as Dawon frowns apologetically, as though she personally had brought upon the melancholy that plagued Yeoreum for the last couple of days.
Nevertheless, she does as Dawon asks. She texts Yeonjung fully knowing she would get no response, that she would get absolutely nothing except for the disappearance of the number signaling that the girl had read her message and simply never replied.
\\
Yeonjung is back.
From the way she looks, the way she acts, it’s almost as though the three days of her absence had never even happened at all. Only the deep shadows beneath her eyes gave any hints to what may have transpired in her absence.
Yeonjung has that same goofy smile on her face as she walks in between the doors, apologizing as though her disappearance was a friendly prank and nothing more. She gives some flimsy excuse about not feeling well, but neither Yeoreum nor Dayoung press for more details. Then she’s gone again, called into the teacher’s lounge to chat about completing missing work.
Dayoung simply sighs in relief, happy to see nothing serious had happened, while Yeoreum feels as though she’s been launched into space.
“What’s up with you?” Yeonjung asks her when she returns. Her tone makes it sound as though Yeoreum is the weird one, not her. Yeonjung is giving her that teasing smile she always gives when she’s up to no good – and it’s so painfully normal that Yeoreum can’t help but think she’s crazy for having worried so much.
But there’s also a stiltedness to their conversations. A tear had formed between them, undetectable at first but tacitly there. Yeoreum had only noticed it when she had stepped a little too close, having expected Yeonjung to steady her as she stumbled on uneven pavement. Instead, Dayoung is the one who has to grab her as she goes crashing into her shoulder; Yeonjung had stepped back, pulling away so quickly that Yeoreum couldn’t help but wonder if she actually was there in that place to begin with.
And it continues like that.
A boundary had formed, paper-thin and barely there. But it occupied the sliver of space between their two bodies.
Yet they both choose to ignore it, pretending that they were back to the way they always were.
And they were – for the most part.
Yeonjung and Dayoung are her two best friends. She knows almost everything about them, and they know almost everything about her.
Almost .
\\
They’re doing practice matches today, and Yeoreum has never performed worse.
Her tempo is all mixed up, jumbled and jagged and out-of-pitch. Her swings are erratic and her footwork is nonexistent.
Juyeon dodges with ease, knocking back her bamboo sword. Yeoreum feels her body flinch at the force of the strike, her arms rendered limp.
Her sword goes clattering to the floor.
The world stops, just for a moment.
Never in all her years had she dropped the sword – not even when her hands and arms were trembling with physical exertion, not even when she had pushed her body to the brink of exhaustion. How could she – how dare she?
Humiliation is the first to rise, painting her skin an unattractive crimson. Then it's a rush of horror, disappointment, and anger. Her head swells and she feels like exploding.
Yeoreum suppresses the urge to throw off her helmet and storm out of the room. Instead, she takes a deep breath, calming the rush of blood, chilling her entire body so she remains frozen to the floor, numb.
Juyeon is the first to respond by picking up her sword, holding it out. It’s impossible to see her expression behind the gated mask, but for once Yeoreum is grateful for the barrier between them.
The coach calls her over. She can’t hear him over the rush of blood pumping loudly against her eardrums, but it doesn’t particularly matter because the disappointment etched in his eyes is clear enough. She hears the words “ten laps” and “cool your head” but she raises it to twenty as self-punishment.
Juyeon is still holding her sword in her hands when Yeoreum brushes past her, heading towards the school courtyard with empty hands.
\\
She finishes long after practice is over.
The rest of the team had finished and shuffled towards the entrance. A couple of her teammates had glanced in her direction, but she had pointedly turned her head, gaze trained to the specks of sand and gravel below her feet.
The running helps – it always does. She feels… better, for lack of a better word. Less explosive and more numb. And that’s how she feels when she finally hits twenty laps, her steps slowing to a stop over the white starting line.
Juyeon is the only one that sticks about, waiting on the top of the steps with Yeoreum’s stuff gathered in one hand.
Yeoreum makes her way over, head still bowed.
“Thanks,” she mumbles out quietly.
Juyeon hands her a towel.
“Are you OK?”
Yeoreum shrugs, covering her face. The sweat acts as a good excuse for the tears that prickle at the corner of her eyes.
It’s a simple question, but it still manages to bury a thorn in her tender heart.
Juyeon waits about, quiet.
Yeoreum bites her bottom lip, willing the tears to stop from forming.
And they do, eventually.
“Tteokbokki?” She offers first.
Juyeon smiles.
“Let’s go.”
\\
Juyeon and her are quiet, their usual conversations replaced by a gentle silence. Juyeon orders, doing all the necessary conversation with the grandma running the food cart while Yeoreum sits besides her, stupefied to the world.
“Eat,” Juyeon prompts, grabbing Yeoreum’s hand and forcibly manipulating her fingers until they’re wrapped around disposable chopsticks. “You’ve been sitting there for five minutes already.”
Yeoreum nods, shoveling a piece of rice cake between her lips.
It tastes better than usual.
“So, what’s up?”
Yeoreum gives a noncommittal grunt.
“Reum,” Juyeon’s voice drops, uncharacteristically serious. Her eyebrows are furrowed in concern and a frown replaces her usual smile. “Seriously, are you OK? Did something happen?”
Yeoreum shovels another rice cake into her mouth. Every rice cake takes approximately thirty seconds to chew and swallow, and if she puts six into her mouth, that’ll give her approximately three minutes to gather her thoughts. (Or avoid the question altogether.)
But Juyeon doesn’t let her. She takes the basket of food from Yeoreum, placing it far enough besides her that Yeoreum can’t simply reach over and grab it.
“Spill.”
“You sound like Dayoung,” Yeoreum grumbles. It’s a half-hearted attempt at a joke, but the words ring hollow even to her own ears.
Juyeon continues staring, expectant.
“I had…” a fight? That wasn’t right. But there were no words that could faithfully describe what had transpired between her and Yeonjiung. Yeoreum hesitates, mulling over the words in her head.
“Something happened between me and Yeonjung,” she says finally.
Juyeon raises her eyebrows. “Something?”
Yeoreum chews at the end of her chopsticks. “Mhm. Something.”
“Is that why she disappeared for three days?”
She shrugs.
“Huh,” Juyeon exhales lightly. “Can I ask what that something was?”
Yeoreum shakes her head quickly. She chomps down on the chopsticks, breaking the wood in between her teeth.
Juyeon frowns. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No.” The answer is a bit harsh, but Yeoreum doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. “I’ll be fine.”
Juyeon, though clearly unhappy with the progression of their conversation, relents and gives her food back. “As long as you take care of yourself, Yeoreum.”
“Can we talk about something else?” She asks instead, trying to placate the growing tension between them.
“Sure,” Juyeon sighs, though a gentle smile returns to her face. She places a light hand on top of Yeoreum’s head, ruffling her hair. “Whatever you want.”
\\
The questions, however, don’t end with Juyeon.
A week passes in faux normalcy until Dayoung stops her in the middle of breaktime. Yeonjung is off by herself again, saying something about getting food for the three at the school’s snack shop before heading out of their classroom.
Yeoreum is at her desk, hunched over with her head in her arms and cheek pressed against the wood as she stares out the window.
“Move,” Dayoung says to the boy who sits at the desk in front of Yeoreum.
“But this is my desk?”
“And I’m telling you as your class president to move.”
The boy grumbles a complaint but quickly gathers his stuff to clear his seat. Dayoung, triumphant, takes the spot, situating herself so she’s facing Yeoreum.
“So, what the fuck happened between you and Yeonjung?”
Tactful.
Yeoreum sighs, though she continues staring out the window. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” Dayoung snorts. “Now tell me before I stick you to cleaning duty for the rest of the week.”
Yeoreum scowls. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would, and you know that I always follow through with my threats.”
“Don’t you have someone else to bother?”
“Cleared my schedule so I can concentrate on you.”
Yeoreum groans. Loudly. “Leave me alone.”
“Yeoreum,” Dayoung isn’t scolding. Rather, she sounds angry. “Seriously, I have the right to know what happened between you two.”
“Ask Yeonjung.”
“You know how she is.”
Yeoreum feels annoyance rise inside of her. “Then why are you bothering me? Why should I be the one to tell you?”
“Because we’re friends ?” Dayoung says incredulously, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And it is – or, it should be. “Or did you decide you don’t want to be friends anymore?”
Yeoreum bites her tongue. That hurt a lot more than she expected.
“No, I’m sorry,” she says softly, the built up irritation deflating almost instantaneously. She lifts slowly into a sitting position, head bowed.
Dayoung twitches as though trying to maintain her exasperation, though that too quickly escapes with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry too – that was harsh. And you’re right, I should also be badgering Yeonjung too but she’s a lot… you know, more secretive than you are. It’s hard to tell what she’s thinking. Not to mention, she’s physically much stronger than I am.”
“I’m stronger too?”
“OK, but you’re also my height, so less formidable.”
Yeoreum rolls her eyes. “Fair.”
Dayoung smiles, though that light quickly fades as she turns serious once again. “I know… we’re not the most vocal about the feelings, but I really do care about both of you. A lot. And I’d appreciate it if you – well, all of us really – could talk more honestly with one another?”
Her voice trails, softening at the end. There’s a split second of silence before Dayoung quietly adds: “We’re best friends.”
There’s an upwards tilt at the end, more of a question in need of confirmation than a statement.
Yeoreum blinks. It’s a level of sincerity she never expected from the other girl.
It also makes her feel awful; admittedly, she’s been a bad friend. She hadn’t even considered the position she and Yeonjung must have placed Dayoung in.
“I’m sorry, I just assumed…”
Yeoreum trails off, upset at her own choice of words.
Assumed.
It had flowed so naturally – assumed. She had assumed many things: of their affections for each other, of the supposed indestructibility of their friendship.
A moment passes as Yeoreum contemplates the words sitting heavily on her tongue. She gulps, swallowing the words unsaid as a feeble “I’m really sorry” finally leaves between pursed lips.
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t go full depression on me now,” Dayoung says, tone forcibly light in an attempt to lift the mood. It works to an extent because it gets Yeoreum to unravel slightly, her head lifting from its tucked position. “I still have more questions for you.”
Yeoreum hesitates. Her eyes dart around nervously, looking for the shadow of Yeonjung. “If I answer, will you promise not to tell anyone? That includes Sojung unnie.”
Dayoung nods, crossing her heart with her finger as she sticks out her pinky finger. Yeoreum intertwines it with her own and stamps their thumbs together to solidify their vow.
“Promise.”
Yeoreum nods, satisfied. Call her childish, but the thumb-stamped promise really does feel like stable footing beneath her otherwise floating self. It’s firm and present, and it tethers her to Dayoung in an unbreakable oath of interwoven pinkies.
“So, what happened?”
Yeoreum chews on her bottom lip. She glances at the door, only daring to open her mouth once she’s made sure Yeonjung was still gone.
“Yeonjung asked me if I like Juyeon unnie.”
“What?!”
“Dayoung, volume control! Please!” Quickly shushing her friend, Yeoreum throws her hands over Dayoung’s gaping mouth in an attempt to muffle the noise. A couple of her classmates’ turn their heads at the commotion, but quickly return to what they were doing as they realize it’s just Dayoung being Dayoung.
Yeoreum, on the other hand, grits her teeth, feeling the familiar beats of anxiety push against her heart. She lets her hands down once Dayoung sufficiently calms down, the initial burst of sound quieting to a low whisper.
“You know what… that does make sense,” Dayoung mutters under her breath.
Yeoreum narrows her eyes, “What makes sense?”
“Why she would ask if you have a crush on Juyeon unnie. So, do you?”
“I,” Yeoreum fidgets anxiously on her seat. “I told her I don’t know.”
“What?” Dayoung asks incredulously.
Yeoreum feels the hair on the back of her neck prickle.
“I said I don’t know."
“How do you not know?” Dayoung’s voice rises again, though she quickly catches herself and returns to the whispering tone. An edge creeps into her voice. “Yeoreum–”
“I don’t know! I’ve never had a crush before!” Yeoreum throws her hands up, exasperated. She bristles defensively, eyes narrowing to a glare.
It’s unpleasant, this whole thing – feelings, emotions, all of it. She wants nothing to do with the way it eats her from the inside out, plaguing her every thought until all she can think about is how nauseous she feels whenever she thinks about either Juyeon or Yeonjung or how she wishes she could just turn off everything because it’s getting too overwhelming too fast and she feels like she’s drowning in expectations–
“Hey, buddy,” Dayoung snaps her fingers in front of Yeoreum’s face. It works to zap her back into the present, away from the hurricane of thoughts in her head. “Stay with me here.”
Yeoreum blinks, stupefied.
“Is that why she disappeared for three days?”
“Maybe?”
Dayoung stares, unblinking.
Yeoreum bites her lower lip.
“Yeah. It probably was why.”
Dayoung sighs. “This is more complicated than I thought.”
“What should I do?”
“Did you guys talk about this at all?”
Yeoreum shakes her head.
Dayoung lets out a deep exhale. She lifts a fist to her cheek, leaning her head to rest on her hand. Her large eyes move up and down, scanning Yeoreum’s face in a way that makes her skin crawl with nerves.
“Can I be painfully honest?”
Yeoreum nods with trepidation, the air catching painfully in the middle of her throat.
“You know you fucked up, right?”
Always the eloquent one.
Yeoreum winces. (But, she definitely deserved that.)
Dayoung continues to stare, though her gaze softens slightly at how visibly Yeoreum crumbles.
“Yeah. But I don’t really know what I did wrong…?”
“Take a guess.”
Yeoreum opens her mouth to say something but then closes it immediately. It didn’t sound right in her head and it definitely didn’t feel right saying it out loud.
So she settles for a cautious: “I don’t know.”
That definitely is the wrong thing to say because the irritation on Dayoung’s face grows twofold.
Yeoreum bites the inside of her cheek. “What should I do?”
“Figure it out,” Dayoung sighs again, sounding increasingly exhausted with each exhale. “As much as I love meddling in people’s business, I believe this is best kept between you and Yeonjung.”
Yeoreum fights the urge to launch herself from the window. “You don’t think… she hates me, right?”
“I think that’s the last thing she’s feeling, Reum. If anything–”
“I don’t hate you.”
Yeonjung’s voice is coming from behind. Yeoreum whips her head, eyes widening as she meets the girl’s gaze from below. Yeonjung is smiling, but the light fails to reach her eyes.
Yeoreum feels her heart sink.
“Here. I got what you guys asked for.” Yeonjung places a plastic bag full of snacks on top of Yeoreum’s desk then turns and walks back to her desk before she or Dayoung could reach out. She puts in her earbuds, refusing to look at either of them.
Dayoung slumps over the back of her commandeered chair.
“Well, looks like I’m involved now too.”
Yeoreum stares at the colorful packaging of the chocolate coronet she had requested. Her stomach churns and she feels queasy.
“Sorry.”
\\
The day goes from bad to worse.
Jiyeon is waiting at the entrance of the kumdo practice room as practice crawls to an end. Juyeon runs to her, tripping over her own leg guards as she does so.
They embrace for a moment; Juyeon is smiling, talking animatedly while Jiyeon responds just as enthusiastically with her own beaming laugh that shimmers like refractions of light.
Yeoreum watches in the corner of the room of where she sits, entranced.
Jiyeon acts first. Her arm snakes around Juyeon’s waist, pulling them closer until the proximity between the two are fully closed.
Juyeon looks happy – so very incredibly happy.
It makes Yeoreum’s heart hurt all the more with how Jiyeon reciprocates, looking equally if not somehow more delighted by the way Juyeon runs a hand through her hair only to gently cup her cheek to press her nose intimately against the other’s.
“Aren’t they cute?” One of her teammates says from the periphery.
Yeoreum can barely hear her voice over the sound of her drumming heartbeat.
“Yeah. They are.”
The lie on Yeoreum’s tongue tastes just as bitter as the tumultuous feelings she barely manages to choke down.
\\
The street lamps turn on in the middle of their walk home.
Juyeon is humming a song. Yeoreum stays quiet the entire time, letting her plodding footsteps reverberate in every corner of her mind.
They pass by the usual tteokbokki cart, though they each buy a stick of fishcakes for their journey home.
Yeoreum chews, using the food as an excuse to continue the silence.
Juyeon, like always, is the one to break the silence.
“Hey, Yeoreum, I’m thinking of asking Jiyeon unnie out on a date.”
Yeoreum feels the words like a bullet to her chest. She feels that same numbness again, that feeling of frustration coupled with a new accompanying pain that threatens to fracture her heart. It’s hard to breathe, doubly so now that her chest tightens with the news.
She wants to say something to stop Juyeon from talking, but the smile that illuminates Juyeon’s face prevents her from speaking. She looks so happy – so very incredibly happy.
So Yeoreum bites her tongue, hard. The protest in her head grinds to a sudden halt, and all she’s left with is a breathless congratulations that lingers hollow in the air. But she chokes it all down with a numbness that pushes her to accept Juyeon’s excited hug. She barely manages to reciprocate the affectionate gesture, her own arms devoid of energy.
\\
Yeoreum makes it to the steps of her house before she collapses to the ground, knees hugged to her chest as she bursts into tears.
\\
The confession goes as expected.
It’s the next day and Jiyeon is waiting in front of the kumdo room as usual.
Yeoreum watches from the corner as Juyeon professes her crush to Jiyeon who reciprocates with her own shy smile and a kiss to the tip of her nose.
Their teammates squeal around her, congratulating Juyeon as she walks in with bright red cheeks and a merry smile that works to split Yeoreum’s heart in two.
\\
Yeoreum remains in the kumdo room far after practice, listing off some excuse about practicing her form and swing when she gets a text.
Her arms are aching, but that isn’t enough to deter her from wanting to drive her body to the ground through physical exertion alone.
She wants to stop thinking – to stop feeling.
And it works, until she catches the name of the texter lighting up her phone screen.
Yeonjung.
uyj__0803: i heard.
uyj__0803: are u ok?
Yeoreum hesitates, unsure of what to say.
yeolum_e: i’m ok
Yeonjung responds almost immediately.
uyj__0803: where are u?
yeolum_e: school
Yeoreum chews the inside of her cheek nervously.
yeolum_e: yeonjung
yeolum_e: want to go to karaoke?
uyj__0803: now?
Another pause.
Yeoreum sucks in a breath.
uyj__0803: ok. i’ll see u there