Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s 7:54 AM when Ryujin steps out of the elevator and into the basement of JYP Entertainment. Baggy sweats, a tattered tee, and a pair of worn-out sneakers play the role of her wardrobe this morning. A well-loved canvas bag hangs over her right shoulder while an iced coffee in her hand jostles with every step.

When she arrives at the door to the practice room, she pushes it open with her shoulder. Instantly, she’s greeted with the sound of squeaking soles and blaring music. It doesn’t surprise her – they have a dance video scheduled for today, so to see someone already here is expected.

Yeji doesn’t notice as the door clicks shut behind her. Instead, her eyes are on the mirror, the mirror on her body, and her body on the dance floor. Ryujin knows what it’s like to lock into a performance like this. Focus and intent, working in tandem, to make their moves seem second nature – that to make things look so easy, they have to work so hard beforehand.

Letting the bag fall past her shoulder and land on the floor beside her, she lets herself take on the role of spectator as Yeji moves in front of her. The motions, as always, are impeccable, but Ryujin’s more focused on the clothes the other girl has chosen to cover herself with today. She doesn’t know if Yeji does it on purpose – afraid that if she brings it up, she’d spoil the magic – but she’s noticed their leader’s tendency to wear clothes that mean something to her on days like this.

The white logo on the black baseball cap atop Yeji’s head catches her attention first – a souvenir from their first trip to New York. Trailing down the orange locks spilling out from beneath the brim, Ryujin recognizes the hoodie that barely covers Yeji’s torso – an artifact from their days as trainees. Below that are a pair of sweats matching her own, save for the color – they were out shopping and Yeji had thought it’d be cute if the both of them had the same pair. And finally, scuttering along the waxed floor, a pair of sneakers even more run-down than hers.

It reminds her of how far Yeji has come.

How far the both of them have.

It’s 8 years earlier and they’re in the same spot they are now – a hopeless Ryujin staring at a clueless Yeji from the safety of a doorway. She remembers the night her anxious fingers typed out dozens of introduction texts before finally settling on an awkward, if not precocious, inquiry about her age. She remembers the day after, how one moment she was looking at Yeji and the next she had her arms wrapped around her.

Ryujin remembers her name falling from Yeji’s mouth.

She remembers how she started falling for her a moment later.

And then, in real time, she watches Yeji fall right in front of her.

It happens fast – Yeji’s foot hits the floor at a weird angle, sending her body careening down to the rigid surface below – all of it culminating in a loud thud and a sharp groan.

“Yeji!”

Ryujin doesn’t remember running – she just knows that one second she’s standing at the doorway and the next she’s kneeling on the ground.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She’s frantic. Words, eyes, and hands launch an uncoordinated assault to figure out what had happened.

“I’m alright.” Yeji grimaces as she sits up. Her hand goes to rub her hip, the part of her that hit the floor first and hardest. There’s a moment when she’s massaging her side, as if she doesn’t believe the words she had uttered, but then she continues on. “Don’t worry, I was–” Her teeth clench and her mouth hisses as Ryujin’s hands reach for the traitorous foot.

Eyes widening and the grip around Yeji’s foot loosening, Ryujin does her best to keep it propped up without letting it fall. “Is it your foot? Your ankle? Is it twisted?” She brings her face closer to inspect for any possible bruising or swelling.

“No.” Yeji shakes her head in response, though a frown is displayed prominently on her face. “But your hand is really cold and wet.”

Oh.

Ryujin stops what she’s doing to look down at the two hands cradling Yeji’s foot. Then, she looks back to the iced coffee on the counter that she’s thankful she didn’t drop before rushing over

Oh.

“Do you think you could help me up now?”

The words snap her attention back to what’s going on – Yeji lying not-so-helplessly on the ground in front of her.

“Oh! Are you sure you’re okay?” She removes her clammy hand from Yeji’s foot and Ryujin can see the discomfort disappear before her very eyes. “I can probably find someone to help or–”

Yeji silences her by placing a hand on hers – the dry one– and squeezing. “Hey, there’s nothing to worry about.” She smiles an honest smile. “I wasn’t being careful. That’s it.” She chuckles warmly. “I mean, that’s why we practice – so stuff like this doesn’t happen.”

Ryuin doesn’t answer immediately. Her heart is pounding and telling her to keep pushing the subject, that this cursory examination isn’t enough and that Yeji needs a CT, MRI, or maybe even JYP.

But that same heart is having its strings tugged on by the way Yeji looks at her and holds her. The small scrunch beside her eyes when she smiles brings Ryujin home and the pad of Yeji’s thumb rubbing a familiar spot on the back of her hand makes her feel like it.

It’s that part of her that ultimately wins out.

Ryujin sighs and looks down at the hand on top of hers. Yeji’s is bigger and she likes how they fit against each other. “Okay,” she says with a nod. Flipping her hand upside down so she can weave their fingers together, Ryujin gives her a squeeze in return. “I believe you.”

Yeji’s smile widens and her eyes scrunch just a little bit more.

That makes it worth it.

Slowly, Ryuin rises up from the floor and delicately pulls Yeji up along with her. The moment they’re both on their feet, she pulls Yeji forward until their waists are kissing. The hand that was enveloping the other girl’s tugs it back until it’s resting on Ryujin’s hip, while her other hand snakes around Yeji’s midsection to keep them close. It occurs without conscious intent, the memories in her muscles too loud to say otherwise.

This gives Ryujin another moment with her, one where they exchange the panic of seconds earlier for quiet breaths and longing looks.

Her eyes stay as scrupulous as they were previously. However, instead of looking for the odd scuff or scrape that might have possibly marred Yeji’s face, she’s simply taking a tour on the familiar stretch of skin she’s traveled a thousand times before.

Yeji’s own gaze is nowhere near as sturdy, her eyes flitting away due to the intensity of Ryujin’s stare. Her cheeks redden at a particularly embarrassing instance – when Ryujin lingers on the mole near her jaw and she parts her mouth to wet her lips.

“You can stop that now, I didn’t land on my face or anything,” Yeji says, breaking the silence. “I think I’m fine.”

Ryujin looks up from Yeji’s mouth to her eyes and she smirks. “I’d say you look a lot better than fine.” Throwing in an eyebrow-raise as well, she decides to double down on the entendre.

The rouge on Yeji’s cheeks deepens, accented by an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She pulls back from Ryujin, only to lean back in and bunt their foreheads against one another’s.

“Is that why you came here so early?” Yeji giggles. “To flirt with your unnie?”

The sound of Yeji’s laughter makes Ryujin smile and she loves how she can feel her body vibrate when she laughs. “If I wanted to do that,” she said with her own chuckle, “then I would’ve given myself more than 5 minutes, unnie.”

“What do you mean? It’s only–” Yeji turns her head to look at the clock on the wall and Ryujin can feel the air between them grow a bit heavier. “Oh wow…” Her smile falters. “I must have lost track of time.” She turns back to Ryujin and tries to lighten the mood with another laugh, but all that does is make Ryujin suspicious.

“Yeji.” Ryujin pulls back, her hands still on the other as if desperate to cling onto the levity still in-between them. “How long have you been here?”

The accusation is hard to hide, so Ryujin doesn’t even try. She knows that there’s no one more demanding of Yeji than Yeji herself, that sometimes what she thinks is best for the group comes at the cost of overworking herself and ignoring her own needs.

And Ryujin? She hates that as much as she loves her.

“Not that long.” There’s no conviction in her voice. Yeji’s a terrible liar – so she never lies – but that just makes it all the more obvious when she’s trying not to tell the truth. “You know it’s a big day today.” Yeji goes to take both of Ryujin’s hands in her own, as if this is some kind of desperate plea or admission. “What’s wrong with making sure I had–”

The distinct growl of Yeji’s stomach fills in the rest of her sentence. It says that she’s been here since before the sun had risen. It gives away that time better spent on breakfast was spent on perfecting choreo instead. But most importantly, it tells Ryujin that the stumble from earlier wasn’t due to a freak accident or uneven floor, but carelessness.

No, not carelessness. That would bely all the hard work Yeji’s done to drill into them how important a good night’s sleep and healthy breakfast was. This was negligence – through and through.

A sigh tumbles out of Ryujin. She’s not surprised, but if she forgives her, as she always has, then Yeji will just keep on running herself ragged whenever there’s a deadline on the horizon and Ryujin is not okay with that. Even now, with Yeji looking at her with the slightest lilt in her eyes and the tiniest pucker on her lips, she can feel her resolve crumbling. But before she can look into those eyes and tell Yeji that she does forgive her and that everything is going to be alright, the door swings open and reality comes flooding in.

“Morning everyone!!” Yuna bursts through the door, bright and brash and bold.

Ryujin spares the girl only a quick glance before looking back to Yeji. There was a time when the two of them would’ve flown apart the moment the door opened, but their friends have come as far as they have when it comes to the terms of their relationship.

But this time Yeji does pull away. She takes the first chance she can to get out of the conversation she was just in and Ryujin can do nothing to stop it. She can almost hear the switch inside Yeji’s head flip from “her Yeji’ to “ITZY’s Yeji” before she’s left alone on the sideline.

“Good morning, Yuna.” Yeji approaches the youngest with a practiced smile and instantly launches into a new topic about the cute shoes adorning Yuna’s feet. It’s an amazingly basic ploy that does everything Yeji needs it to do.

Still standing where she was, Ryujin’s eyes have not left Yeji once. The absence that she’s been left with starts to fill the void in her hands and frustration begins to pool in her stomach. She can feel it hardening like concrete and decides to move before it can fully set.

Yeji and Yuna don’t even notice her until she’s already at the door.

“Ryujin?” The concern in Yeji’s voice is loud enough that she doesn’t need to turn around to confirm it on her face.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” As she reaches for the door knob, she considers ending the sentence there – leaving without even a look back to really drive in her point. But she can’t – that’s a pettiness neither Yeji deserves nor Ryujin is cold enough to deliver. Cocking her head back instead, her lips manage to curve just enough to hint at a smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Yeji looks at her for a moment before nodding. “Don’t take too long.”

Ryujin knows what those four words mean – that she’s telling her to be safe, that she’s saying she’s sorry, and that everything she does, she does for them. Still, knowing that doesn’t make it any easier when Ryujin walks out of the room.

The door closes shut behind her as she steps back into the hallway she was just in minutes ago. She looks left towards the bathroom and considers actually going there. The thought of splashing some water on her face is attractive – it would at least make her face wet and that would mean she’d feel different than how she feels at the moment. But the possibility that Yeji might come in after her is too high, so instead, she takes the right towards the elevators.

It’s a good idea, or so she thinks. The walk there and back is longer and maybe the extra distance will allow her more time to clear her head.

She’s wrong.

The further her feet take her away from Yeji, the closer her memories pull her back. With every step she takes, there’s not an inch of hallway that goes by that doesn’t remind Ryujin of her. From their framed albums on the wall to the potted plants they used to dash behind in poor attempts to find privacy, Yeji has become as much a part of JYP as she has Ryujin

After coming around the next corner, Ryujin finds herself met with a familiar face. There, loitering in front of the vending machine, is Chaeryeong – eyes glued to the glass and a clutch gripped tight in her hands. It’s a sight that eases the knots in her shoulders and lightens the lead in her feet.

“Lose something in there?” Ryujin asks as she sidles up beside her.

“Just getting a snack for later.”

“You’re aware that practice has already started?”

“I know. That’s why I’m only getting one.”

It’s enough to make Ryujin exhale through her nose, the slightest puff of her chest accompanying it. After taking a look around – and seeing no one coming down the hall nor down the elevator – she decides to stay. Chaeryeong’s presence should prove better than the nostalgia that had kept her company up until this moment.

Settling in beside her, Ryujin looks past the reflection of the two of them in the glass. Even after all this time, she’s amazed by the generous assortment of snacks JYP has and continues to provide them. She recalls how sparse the selection was back at their old training center and that just leads to Ryujin thinking about Yeji again.

The first thing that’s brought to mind is all those late night practices that ended up with them scrounging for dinner from the vending machines – Ryujin because she loved snacks and Yeji because it would help tide her over on the train ride home. While she was fine with most anything as long as it wasn’t too sweet, Yeji had a more discerning taste. She couldn’t afford not to, knowing that she’d have to sit with her decision for two hours before having access to a hot, homemade meal.

Ryujin remembers how fast she’d scarf down the gummy ones and how they’d always get stuck in her teeth as she watched Yeji’s face in the glass – that same, stickling eye for detail being put to another use. The best part was when Yeji would catch her staring and the way she would stare back, as if she had finally found what she was looking for.

But now it’s not Yeji’s reflection staring back at her. It’s Chaeryeong’s.

“Do you have something to say, Ryeongchae?” Ryujin raises an eyebrow at the sudden attention, her lips pressing together until they’re thin.

Chaeryeong turns to her and leans in, taking up the space between Ryujin and the window. “Did something happen?” Straight and to the point – she never expects anything different from her.

Ryujin crosses her arms against her chest. “I don’t know what you mean,” she scoffs, already going on the defensive. She doesn’t mean to, but she doesn’t stop it when she notices it happening.

“So something did happen.”

“Listen, I–”

“What did you do this time?”

Chaeryeong’s audacity.

“I didn’t do anything!”

Ryujin’s indignation.

“Why do you always think it’s me?”

But Chaeryeong doesn’t flinch, she just looks at – no, judges at her – Ryujin’s words echoing down the corridors and back toward the practice room behind them. Her gaze is different from Yeji’s – while the older’s eyes are unwavering in their patience and understanding, there’s a certain sense of surety in Chaeryeong’s that makes it seem like she already knows what has happened and is just waiting for confirmation.

Ryujin flicks her eyes away from Chaeryeong’s immovable gaze before running a hand through her hair. She now thinks that she’s made the wrong decision and that maybe it was the right move to go to the bathroom and deal with the consequences of that.

“I was watching Yeji dance earlier and she fell, so I–”

“She fell?” In less than an instant, Chaeryeong’s condemnation turns into concern at the idea of one of them being hurt. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she is.” Ryujin nods before sucking in her bottom lip to chew with her teeth.

“But…”

“You know that thing she does when she ‘forgets’ to eat or sleep because there’s something more important?” Ryujin sighs. “I mean, I get why she does it– we have that shoot later, but I just wish she’d take better care of herself, y’know?”

She looks at Chaeryeong who’s looking back at her. Ryujin can see the gears turning in her head as she recollects every other previous offense – every instance of Yeji putting everyone else first, every time she turned a grimace into a grin when she caught them looking.

As the silence grows between them, Ryujin hopes the response comes sooner rather than later. Chaeryeong’s eyes are narrowed into thin, focused beams of retrospection and it’s making Ryujin feel like a package of ramyeon being scanned by a grocery store clerk.

“Okay,” Chaeryeong finally says. “I think I’m gonna get the chocolate almonds.”

Wide-eyed and wordless, Ryujin watches as Chaeryeong slips effortlessly out of their conversation. With nothing else to say or add, she simply pops open her purse to take out the money for the aforementioned almonds.

“Is that it?” Ryujin asks, incredulous.

“Aren’t we getting lunch later? I don’t want to fill up on–”

“Not the nuts! About Yeji!” Ryujin throws her hands up in the air. “Don’t you care about her?”

“Of course I do.” Chaeryeong takes the bill she pulled out of her bag and starts to slide it across the side of the vending machine to smooth it out. “I just think it’s funny,” she starts, her tone growing sharper like the money she’s flattening, “how you never have any concerns about me even though I skip breakfast everyday.”

“Well, you always–”

“And I don’t think I’ve ever heard you once get on Yuna’s case whenever she stays up late playing games.”

“That’s not–”

“And do I need to remind you about our last comeback?” Chaeryeong stills her hands, her head now tilted towards Ryujin. “How we were a week into practice before we found out about your sprained wrist?”

Ryujin doesn’t respond at first.

She doesn’t admit it out loud.

But Chaeryeong, as usual, is right.

Aside from a curious glance whenever they bring up their morning routines, she stays out of whatever Chaeryeong decides to put (or not put) into her body. Not only that, but the few times she has confronted Yuna about her late-night gaming sessions is whenever she gets too rowdy and Ryujin can hear her from the room over.

And as for her own injury? She can only imagine that the face she has on now is a mirror-image of Yeji’s when Ryujin confronted her earlier. After all, the intent was the same – to make sure that they wouldn’t be the one holding everyone else back. It just so happened that both involved acts of self-sacrifice.

Ryujin’s bobbing her head in time with the thrum of the machines beside them, slowly working her way up until she can look Chaeryeong straight in the eyes again.

“Are you done?”

Chaeryeong takes a moment, her lips pursed as she ponders the question before shaking her head.

“No, but you can go.”

“Okay.” Ryujin takes a breath, priming her for the deeper one she takes right after. “I know that all of us aren’t exactly on good terms with our work-life balance–” Chaeryeong nods furiously. “–but it’s different with Yeji. She’s…”

It’s a struggle to find the right words to convey the right message. Ryujin loves her, and everyone knows it at this point, but love is irrational and Ryujin wants to find the reason in this worry. She wants to be able to grasp something solid to pick up and show to Chaeryeong, something that holds more weight than just this silly sense of overprotectiveness.

As if sensing her hesitancy, Chaeryeong reaches over to offer her a comforting squeeze of the arm. “You’re worried about her, I get it. We all worry about her.” The pressure of the hand on her arm turns into a soothing caress. “And I’m not saying you shouldn’t be concerned, but have you thought maybe there’s a different way to do it instead of just admonishing her all the time?”

And just like that, Ryujin is pulled out of whatever sincere moment they were sharing, shell-shocked by the sudden, uncharacteristic vocabulary word that Chaeryeong had dropped onto her head.

“Admonishing?” Ryujin blinks.

Chaeryeong responds with a shrug as she turns back towards the machine and slides in the bill. “Lia’s been sending me the word of the day.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She says I could stand to be more magniloquent.”

Finding it easier to focus on the sounds around them than the words coming out of Chaeryeong’s mouth, Ryujin zeroes in on the beeps of the buttons before her. The rumble and whir of the machine is soothing and the spin of the metal coil is almost hypnotic. She watches as the box of almonds gets pushed out further and further before falling past the ledge and landing at the bottom with a satisfying ka-thunk.

“Did you want anything?” Chaeryeong bends down and reaches past the flap of the machine to pull out the box. “I still have some change left.”

Her first instinct is to shake her head, not feeling particularly peckish at the moment, but who was she to turn down an opportunity like this. So, she looks back at the machine and Ryujin does her best to not look past it – past the glass, past the snacks, all the way into her past with Yeji.

The task proves difficult as she jumps from candy to cookie to random other confectionery – there’s not a single thing in there that doesn’t remind her of the girl she left back in the practice room. She almost gets lost in her memories again until she finds it.

Ryujin didn’t even know she was looking for it until she found it.

“That one.” Her hand goes to the second row, third from the right. Her fingernail clacks against the glass, staying there until Chaeryeong inputs the code and the machine spits out the selfsame snack.

Ryujin bends down to pull the bag out from the mouth of the machine. There’s a certain reverence to the way she picks it up and holds it, doing her best to preserve the already questionable integrity of its contents. A smile sneaks its way onto her face, the crinkles of the bag as wide as the ones beneath her eyes.

A simple, unremarkable bag of ketchup-flavored corn chips.

Yeji’s favorites.

Chapter Text

The break room is empty when Ryujin enters, though she’s too bothered by the crick in her neck to enjoy the prospect of peace and quiet that awaits her. She’s working her fingers into the spot right above her collarbone where her shoulder starts, rotating the arm below it until she can feel the knot start to loosen and relief start to flow.

It’s the day after their supposed big shoot of the week and for once in her life, Ryujin can confidently say that it had gone too well. The producers had loved how they executed the video, not just in aptitude, but in ease. And though she would never admit that Yeji’s martyr-like sense of dedication had been the reason it had gone so smoothly, she readily admits that it’s because of that that the company had planned another video near the end of the week and why they had so hastily agreed to it.

Ryujin’s the only one back so far from their first round of rehearsals for the second shoot this week. Making a beeline towards the four plastic bags laid out on the counter at the opposite wall, it only takes her a moment to find the one with her name on it. She grabs a can of sparkling water out of the fridge before going to sit at the singular fold-out picnic table in the middle of the room.

She chooses a seat facing the door and cracks open into the black to-go container inside the bag. A sigh of relief escapes her as the smell of her kimchi fried rice hits her square in the nose. Reaching for the plastic spoon, she’s careful in the way she presses the side of it to the egg yolk atop the rice.

Gingerly, she cuts into it and proceeds to watch the yellow core ooze out onto the egg-white edges before spilling over onto the reddened rice beneath it. The sight is almost as satisfying as the bite she takes a moment after.

A content groan leads into the rest of her eating routine – popping open the water, but not taking a sip, before reaching for the phone in her pocket. Instinctually, her thumb moves and glides along the glass until she looks down and sees Yeji’s name bold and emblazoned at the head of the screen.

The first thing she sees is the message Yeji had sent her after telling everyone else about the sudden change in their schedule. It’s a lot – it’s an apology, it’s owning up to her mistakes, and it’s something that Ryujin’s seen dozens of times before. So, she types out a forgiving platitude before deleting it and replying with something that she hopes she never has to type out again, though she knows she will.

Not wanting to dwell on the arduous reality that is all of their lives, she scrolls up until she finds something to lighten her mood. It’s a message she had sent Yeji during their last movie night, after she had convinced her to watch a horror flick together.

The two of them had been snuggled up on the couch when Ryujin texted her to grab some chips and soda from the kitchen. It was a funny idea and a modest enough request, though Yeji didn’t appreciate the loud notification sound that had come during one of the more tense scenes of the film. For that gesture, Ryujin had earned herself exactly zero chips and soda, one unforgettable yelp from Yeji, and two pillow swats to the face.

There’s a small smile now tugging at the corners of Ryujin’s lips, one that widens further as she comes across a particularly flirty dialog between them. They were at their respective family homes for the holidays and both were feeling particularly lonely after only a couple of days apart.

Looking at the texts now, Ryujin has to wonder as to what was going through their minds that they thought this was salacious and steamy enough to hide beneath the sheets. Save for the amount of emojis passed back and forth, it’s not too different from how they usually text.

But then, Ryujin continues to scroll further up and that’s when her curiosity gets sated. A small intake of breath signals the provocative picture now peeking into the edge of the screen – the catalyst and precursor to all that aforementioned flirting. It’s nothing too scandalous, at least the part she can see, but she remembers her initial reaction when Yeji had first sent it. Now, she’s debating on whether she should scroll past it or linger while she still has the room to herself.

“There’s no such thing as a ‘best pet.’”

Chaeryeong’s voice is the third thing Ryujin hears as she and Yuna clamor into the room, the first thing being the door flying open and the second thing the sound of Ryujin fumbling her phone until it lands face-down on the table beside her.

“That’s now how you made it sound,” Yuna says, her feet following fastidiously behind Chaeryeong.

“I didn’t make it sound like anything.” Chaeryeong shoots Yuna a stern look as she grabs her food off the counter before going to sit beside Ryujin.

“But you did!” Yuna flings the accusation across the table as she takes the seat opposite her. “Hi, unnie,” she adds, showing Ryjin a quick smile before assertively turning back to her other elder. “This entire time, you’ve been talking about your dogs, and how cuddly they are, and how you couldn’t understand why anyone would have a pet that wasn’t that affectionate.”

“And? What does any of that have to do with you?”

“Because I know you’re talking about Sarangie.”

A small grimace flashes across Ryujin’s face as she takes a quiet sip of her drink. She still doesn’t know what the conversation is exactly about, but she knows that Chaeryeong needs to proceed cautiosuly. If it was just Yuna being teased, then that would be easy – that just comes with the territory of being the youngest. But this is the girl’s cat they’re talking about, and that’s more than personal.

“I didn’t even bring him up.” Chaeryeong’s stopped making eye contact with Yuna at this point, her eyes and hands on the salad she’s taking out of the bag. Ryujin watches as she takes out a dressing packet, examines it, and then swiftly puts it back into the bag. “I’m just stating facts – dogs are more magnanimous with their affection than cats are – that’s how it is.”

The way Yuna stares at her, it’s an expression that reads as offense coated in bewilderment. It leads to a pregnant pause that Ryujin uses as an excuse to spoon more rice into her mouth before finally chiming in.

“That means generous,” she whispers.

Yuna gasps, her hand going to her chest as the sentiment fully lands.

“I’m sorry, but Sarangie is plenty generous – my whole family agrees, he loves me the most out of everybody.”

“But is he affectionate?” Chaeryeong points a disparaging cherry tomato at Yuna before popping it into her mouth. “Every time I come home,” she says after she swallows, “my parents have to basically pry Chaeri and Chaeso off of me. That’s how excited they are to see me.”

“Sarangie’s excited to see me!” Yuna starts off cocksure and confident, but her expression starts to dip as more time is devoted to thought. “He just happens to show it in his own special way, that’s all.”

“Yuna, I’ve watched your Lives–”

“Thank you.”

“–and I’m not saying Sarang doesn’t love you, but I feel like – being a cat and everything – he doesn’t really notice you’re even there half the time.”

“But he knows when I’m not!” Yuna pouts, that same pout she’s been crafting and perfecting for years now, but it does nothing against the immovable wall that is Chaeryeong.

“Unnie, what do you think?” It seems Yuna realizes how futile her attempt with Chaereyong is as she turns that fine-tuned turn of her lips over to Ryujin.

“That’s not fair,” Chaeryeong interjects. “You can’t ask her that. She has a cat; she’s gonna side with you.”

“No, she has two cats, which means they cancel each other out,” Yuna retorts smugly. “Now, Ryujin-unnie, what’s the better pet: cats or dogs?”

Ryujin’s looking at the two girls in front of her, eyes wide as dinner plates and cheeks stuffed with enough rice to fill them. She gulps it all down, considers choking as a possible way to escape the discourse, but she easily manages the deft swallow that leaves her mouth empty.

“Uh…”

The question that comes to Ryujin’s mind isn’t about cats or dogs, but more about how she’s supposed to get out of this predicament. To be honest, she’s been a cat person her whole life, even before Byullie and Dallie. And though she does prefer the company of cats, she’s also inclined to agree with Chaeryeong’s stance on how ‘magnanimous’ they are.

Still, Ryujin would argue that their selectiveness in how they dole out affection is one of their best features. Cats are notoriously picky, yes, but there’s no better feeling than being the one that gets picked.

“I think it’s…” Ryujin’s mouth leaves the starting line before her mind can even put its shoes on. Armed with the idea that the sooner she answers this, the sooner they can end this discussion and she can go back to lunch, Ryujin still has no idea what to say until her answer comes walking through the door.

“Dragons.” The word comes out of Ryujin without an ounce of hesitation as Yeji makes her way into the break room. She hears Yuna and Chaeryeong repeat her answer in the background – obviously confused about the first thing they’ve agreed upon all day – but Ryujin has already decided to fully extricate herself from the madness of their disagreement.

It’s the first time she’s really seeing Yeji today without the buffer of a producer or not in the reflection of the dance room mirrors. There’s a look on her face as she approaches and Ryujin wants to attribute it to the fact that, despite the work yesterday and the work today and the work they have planned for the rest of the week, she’s finally ready to sit down, eat lunch, and rest.

“About time,” she says as Yeji grows closer. “Saved you a seat.” Settling into a grin, Ryujin kicks out the chair in front of her.

The sudden move makes Yeji jump and Ryujin realizes the focus she had seen on her face when she entered wasn’t reserved for them.

“Oh, um,” Yeji stumbles in place as she stops. “Thanks, but I need to finish some work first. I’ll eat later.” She moves around them towards the counter. Reaching past the last remaining meal – the one with her name on it – Yeji instead unplugs the iPad from its charger before tucking it safely beneath her arm.

“Enjoy your lunch everyone.” A smile – business first as always – and then Yeji is already out the door.

There’s no time for Ryujin to even process what just happened. She knows how impacted their plans have become with the new arrangements for the week, but she didn’t think Yeji would be so candid as to just float in and out like that.

“She’s been so busy lately,” Yuna notes wistfully.

“Yeah, well, what else is new?”It’s hard to hide how she feels as the words come out of her. And, though it’s not as impactful as it could be, Ryujin feels the way she stabs her spoon into the rice also helps get the point across.

She was hoping that yesterday would be the last of this kind of behavior, at least for a while, but none of them were expecting this kind of switch-up in their schedule. This kind of hectic change reminds her of how things were when they were just starting out, but that was different. They were younger then – dumber – and she was hoping that Yeji would’ve learned by now.

A heavy sigh falls out of her and onto the table as she reaches for her drink. That’s when she notices Yuna staring at her, her own lunch still untouched in front of her.

“You gonna eat that kimbap or what?”

“Hm?” It takes a moment, but it eventually gets through to her as she looks down. “Oh, yeah,” she says as she pulls the container open. “Guess I still have Sarangie on my mind, huh?”

“Alright, I’m out. Don’t need to hear any more of this.” Chaeryeong drops her fork into her salad before scooping that and her phone up and moving over to the chair nestled in the corner of the room.

“This isn't about that!” Yuna whines after her before looking at Ryujin. “I swear, this isn’t about that.”

“Don’t care!” Chaeryeong replies as she pops her AirPods into her ears. She then proceeds to eat salad in the loudest way anyone has ever been able to eat salad. Ryujin doesn’t remember seeing croutons in her bowl, so she figures it’s the sound of her teeth gnashing against each other.

“Okay…” It’s chaos, but it’s a chaos that pulls Ryujin out of the funk she’s been dealing with. “If it’s not about that best-pet-argument-thing, what’s up?”

Yuna’s looking back at her, but there’s something off. It’s almost as if she’s still mulling something over in her mind, that she’s thinking about what to say instead of just telling Ryujin what’s going on.

“Well…” she starts “I’ve been worried about him – Sarangie.” Yuna nods. “My dad told me that he’s been acting weird – that he hasn’t been eating.”

“Uh-huh,” Ryujin says flatly. She thinks she knows what’s going on – at the same time realizing how none of them are that good at lying or hiding stuff – but she decides to play along regardless. “Well, that’s not good.”

“It’s not good!” Yuna’s a bit too excited in the way she says it – her eyes big and nod enthusiastic – but she manages to tone it down enough for the next part. “I mean, yeah…it’s not good…” she says with the proper amount of morosement. “You’ve had cats your whole life, do you have any advice?”

Ryujin clicks her tongue against her teeth as she leans back against the chair, arms crossed at her chest. Regardless of Yuna’s actual earnestness, she does recall a time similar to what she’s being asked about.

“When we first got Dallie, I remember, he wasn’t eating anything that we were giving him. We tried different kinds of food, different kinds of bowls, but nothing really worked.”

“That sounds scary.”

“It was.” Ryujin nods. “We didn’t know if it was stress from being in a new house or if he was freaked out by Byullie or literally anything else, but we got through it eventually.”

“How?”

“We figured since none of the bowls were working, we’d just skip that part entirely.” Ryujin chuckles. “I think we hand-fed him for about a month before he stopped eating out of our hands. The vet thinks it was maybe whisker fatigue, but he’s not one-hundred on that.”

“That’s so sweet.”

Yuna’s smiling and it’s maybe the only other thing in this world that could come close to Yeji’s.

Ryujin almost doesn’t have it in her to challenge it, but she does it anyway.

“It is sweet,” Ryujin says before leaning forward. “But I have some bad news for you – dragons aren’t like cats.”

Yuna doesn’t look too shocked when Ryujin reveals her hand, maybe more disappointed that that was the takeaway from their not-so-hypothetical hypothetical.

“I think that’s where you’re wrong, unnie.” Ryujin tilts her head in curiosity. “I think dragons are a lot like cats,” Yuna says brightly. “For example, you love them both and if either one is hungry, you feed them.”

Ryujin can only watch as Yuna’s eyes scrunch up in that particular way she does when she know she’s right. Even if Ryujin did want to refute it, that scrunch alone is enough to dissuade her.

But is it really as easy as Yuna’s suggesting?

Ryujin sighs and starts to put her own lunch away.

It is.

When Ryujin stands up, the two girls make eye contact, but they don’t say anything. Instead, Ryujin thinks ‘Shin Sisters’ at the girl and she swears she hears it back.

Taking her food over to the fridge, she stops by Chaeryeong to see the girl watching them, AirPods out and obviously eavesdropping.

“Enjoy the show?” Ryujin says as she closes the fridge door.

“What show?” Chaeryeong says with a coy smile.

“Watch yourself,” Ryujin says as she reaches for Yeji’s meal, “or I’m gonna start making you eat breakfast next.”

It doesn’t take long for her to find Yeji seeing as how she’s posted up on the sofa opposite the door when Ryujin comes out. The girl has her back pressed up against one of the armrests, her knees pulled up to her chest, and the iPad propped up on top of her legs. If she notices Ryujin approaching, she doesn’t show it.

“Not gonna join us?” Ryujin lays it out like the fact it is as she plops down on the cushion beside her, almost squishing her feet with how close she lands.

“I wanna look at our last take before we get back into it.” Yeji’s eyes don’t leave the screen once and Ryujin isn’t even sure if Yeji registers that they’re in the same hallway, let alone the same couch.

Letting the conversation peter out, Ryujin watches as Yeji watches the screen in front of her. There are little flicks of movements in her pupils, tiny twitches at the corner of her eyes when she notices something, and then the quick taps of the screen from her fingertips to pause and rewind when she does catch something.

All the while, Ryujin’s ears acclimate to the audio coming out from the tinny speakers beside her. She can hear the way their song echoes against the walls of the practice room while their shoes scritch purposefully along the floor. There are little bursts of pride in her whenever those steps line up perfectly – moments when they are so perfectly in sync that it sounds like only one pair of sneakers bounding about.

“We’re tight out there,” Ryujin states. She hasn’t seen the footage, but she was there when they recorded it and she’s here now to listen back to it.

“We could be tighter.”

Yeji looks up at her this time with a pair of critical eyes. They aren’t targeted at her, nor does Ryujin think she’s imagining any one of them in particular, but Yeji knows what they’re all capable of. She knows what one more day, one more hour, one more attempt could do for them if she’s able to pin-point all their problems beforehand.

Ryujin lets Yeji’s gaze fall back onto the iPad without another word. Instead, she looks down to the bag between her legs before scrunching it up around the plastic bowl nestled inside it. She carefully pries open the top as the steam and smell of gochujang waft up towards her.

After letting the food air out and cool down, she reaches for the cheap pair of chopsticks beneath the container and breaks them apart. Ryujin tries not to lament the fact that the left side comes out being bigger than the right.

“You can have it if you want,” Yeji says, eying Ryujin curiously over the top of the iPad. “That stuff never reheats–”

Yeji stops talking when she notices the hot rice cake being chalantly coerced towards her mouth.

“Ryujin, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m feeding you, dumbie.”

“I don’t need you to feed me.”

“Obviously you do.” Ryujin mimics a chewing motion with her own mouth before pushing the piece of food closer to Yeji’s. “Now eat. I’m not letting you skip out on another meal.”

“It’s just lunch.”

“It’s just lunch today, it was just breakfast yesterday, and who knows what it’s just gonna be tomorrow.”

Ryujin doesn’t mean to be cross, but it affects Yeji nonetheless. Across from her, the older girl starts to down into the couch, taking cover behind the safety of the iPad. Still, it’s not enough to hide the sheepish way her eyes dart to the side before responding.

“I ate those chips you got me…”

“Very good, I’m proud of you, now eat the lunch JYP got you before I tell both our moms about how you’re not taking care of yourself.”

It’s immediate the way Yeji’s posture corrects itself at the mention of their mothers – how she straightens her spine and pulls herself out of the cushion.

“You wouldn’t,” Yeji says trepidatiously.

Ryujin smirks, her eyes narrowing in at the apprehensive girl in front of her.

“Wouldn’t I,” she says, twirling the rice cake in front of her tauntingly.

Yeji’s gaze is cautious, wary, as it drifts from Ryujin’s eyes down to the thing floating between them. She sits vigilant, as if afraid the rice cake is going to strike her down at the next sudden movement, but after moments more of appraisals and risk-assessments, Yeji finally powers the tablet off and puts it aside.

“You know,” Yeji says as she leans forward, “sometimes I regret letting you and my mother exchange phone numbers."

“Excuse me, but why would you ever regret something like that?”

Ryujin watches as Yeji drags her teeth over the chopsticks and takes the food into her mouth. She keeps her eyes on her until Yeji starts chewing before turning her attention back to the container below her.

“What, are you afraid I’m going to tell her something embarrassing about you?”

“No,” Yeji shakes her head, one hand over her mouth as she swallows. “I’m afraid you’re going to be a bad influence on her.”

Ryujin chuckles as she moves her head from side-to-side. “I don’t have time to be a bad influence on her,” she replies as she steals a piece of cabbage for herself. “In between making sure you’re taking your vitamins and washing behind your ears, there’s just not enough time in the day to try and corrupt her.”

“Geeze, am I the only thing you two talk about?”

Ryujin smirks. “No, we also talk about what’s happening in her neck of the woods.” She picks up a slice of hot dog and feeds it to Yeji who readily accepts it this time. “For example, did you know it rained in Jeonju for three days straight last week?”

Yeji’s eyes widen at the new instance of knowledge, chewing fast and swallowing so she can respond. “Oh, so that’s why her ankles were so swollen.”

“That’s right,” she says with a nod. “And, speaking of things getting bigger…”

The pause makes Yeji pull away in apprehension. She doesn’t know what Ryujin means and, knowing Ryujin, she could mean anything.

“We also talk about the beautiful and talented girl you’ve grown up to be.” Ryujin flashes her a smile with a side of extra whiskers as she brings up a pair of noodle-wrapped chopsticks.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Yeji says before slurping the noodles up carefully. There’s a moment at the end while her eyes track the last inch of noodles that she goes cross-eyed and Ryujin has to stop herself from laughing.

“What do you mean? I’m being serious,” Ryujin says as she pulls her hand back. “I guess, if I were to be completely honest, that’s usually just a lead up to the even more beautiful and even more talented people you work with.”

Yeji giggles and Ryujin loves the way her body rocks back-and-forth as if to get the entire laugh out of her. “Oh yes, I’m so fortunate to have people like Yuna and Chaeryeong in my life.”

Ryujin has a fish cake halfway to Yeji when she hears it. “Forgetting someone, Hwang?” Raising an eyebrow, she stops the fish cake in its tracks between them.

Yeji’s mouth opens into a curious “o” before she tilts her head up to think. She takes a second, then another before shutting her mouth and nodding enthusiastically. “Oh, of course. I can’t believe I forgot Lia!”

She snaps her mouth forward after that to go for the food dangling from Ryujin’s chopsticks, but she’s too slow. Ryujin reflexively pulls back and it causes the fish cake to tumble out of her mouth, down her chin, and into the open container that Ryujin was quick enough to move beneath them.

“Nice one,” Ryujin says through a laugh. She watches as a pouty Yeji reaches for the napkins inside the bag and attempts to wipe the mess off of her face. “Here, give me that.”

“I think I can clean myself.”

“You weren’t even able to feed yourself today, now give me the napkin.”

There’s no argument as Yeji relents this time and Ryujin thinks there’s a part of Yeji that does whole-heartedly enjoy the small moments of pampering Ryujin dishes out from time-to-time.

After setting Yeji’s food down in her lap, Ryujin promptly takes over cleaning duty with the napkin Yeji gave her. One hand cupping the girl’s chin, she then starts to dab at any of the sauce remnants still on her face. Ryujin likes this part, the way Yeji sits so trustingly in her hand and how she moves almost preemptively whenever Ryujin tries to angle her head differently.

“You know…” she muses as she wipes a bit of mess off the side of her mouth, “sometimes I wonder what you’d even do without me.”

Chapter Text

And if a double-decker bus crashes into us
To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die

Ryujin’s head is swaying softly along to the sound of The Smiths song ringing out through Yeji’s room. Though it’s not exactly a one-to-one to her personal music taste, Ryujin’s earlier victory in a rock-paper-scissors game meant that it would be her Spotify playlist they’d be listening to today.

The music is loud enough to appreciate, but quiet enough that Morissey’s words don’t distract her from the ones on the pages of the book she’s reading. She’s read The Secret Garden before – she’s read through Yeji’s copy before – but what impresses upon her the most at the moment isn’t just the book or the music, but the fact that she has the time now to enjoy both.

And time is something she does have now, at least for the time being. Due to some unfortunate, unforeseen circumstances, the power in the JYP building had all but – and she’s quoting here – “crapped the hell out and left the whole damn place in the dark.” That meant a lot of people got to go home and among those included were the members of ITZY.

It was a pleasant surprise and mostly received as well-deserved among them, especially considering that they technically should be on break right now anyhow if it hadn’t been for the sudden shift in their schedule. But now, they’re all back at the dorm and enjoying the afternoon off. If you asked her, Ryujin couldn’t imagine anywhere else she’d rather be or anything else she’d rather be doing.

“I’m serious, I need to go back to my desk to work.”

It’s a voice that sounds suspiciously like Yeji’s, but that doesn’t make any sense. After all, they had been explicitly told to go home and enjoy the day off. And even if any one of them did have the nonsensical idea to work, she can’t imagine how fruitful that venture could even be seeing as how they just came back from all-you-can-eat-barbeque and would surely be too full to even complain, let alone be productive.

“Can you at least get off? We just had lunch,” the voice groans. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

With a small sigh, Ryujin closes the book. Keeping her thumb on the page so as to not lose her place, she looks down between her legs to see Yeji’s butt right beneath her.

“I don’t know,” Ryujin says to the butt, “You look fine to me.”

In the middle of the room – Yeji’s room – Ryujin has somehow trapped the older girl beneath her. Right now, Yeji is on her stomach and facing the floor, while Ryujin has made herself at home in the divot of her back with both of her legs splayed out on either side of her.

“Ryujin, please, the producer’s waiting for me to respond to his email.”

Ryujin’s head-sway turns into a disapproving shake as she tuts at the girl beneath her, the clicking of her tongue behind her teeth invading Yeji’s ears without mercy. “Wow, out of all the things you could’ve said to try and convince me, that’s you went with?” She flips her book back open. “Not your strongest play, Hwang.”

Beneath her, Yeji’s torso inflates with air and primes itself for the fight of a lifetime. Arms flailing, legs kicking, and head straining – Yeji starts to thrash in a way Ryujin’s never seen before.

All the while, Ryujin wets finger and flips to another page as she has no trouble keeping both of their butts on the floor where they belong.

“I told you already; that’s not gonna work.” She looks back to catch the look on Yeji’s face. “I’ve been doing squats all week and I have three pounds of meat in me – you’re here until I say you aren’t.”

The expression on Yeji’s face goes from defeated to bargaining to acceptance to pouty, the usual parade of emotions that Yeji has to deal with whenever she realizes Ryujin has the upper-hand.

“This isn’t fair,” Yeji says. The voice is muffled, sandwiched between her and the floor. “You tricked me.

“Yes and yes.” There’s no shame in her admission – she’s proud of the work she’s done to keep Yeji away from hers.

Everyone had split up once they got home, save for the two of them. After getting some iced tea for them both, Ryujin had come into Yeji’s room to find her getting ready to review yesterday’s rehearsals and tomorrow’s schedules. Having to think on the fly, Ryujin had offered her a massage under the guise that it would help her digest and she’d be able to work more efficiently after that. Once Yeji got on the ground and Ryujin climbed on top, all the pieces just fell into place.

“Ryujin, you can’t just sit on me all night. I’m gonna have to work eventually.”

Yeji’s looking back up at her, the pout having mostly dissipated from her face. There’s still disappointment, but there’s a small tinge of it aimed at her now and Ryujin has to deal with swallowing that as well as spitting out the truth.

“I know…” Ryujin replies. She doesn’t know what to say afterwards, that she knows her attempt to keep her from working is as futile as Yeji’s attempt to escape was moments earlier?

“You know, the sooner I finish what I have to do today, the sooner we can do what you want,” Yeji proposes.

“I want you to work less and take care of yourself more.” She doesn’t try to dress it up. Ryujin lays it out as flat as Yeji is on the floor.

“Okay,” Yeji nods, or at least tries while still horizontal. “How about I just check-in while I work? Every now and then, I’ll let you know how I’m doing and if it looks like I need a break, I’ll take a break.”

“I feel like you’re talking to me like I’m a kid.”

“You are literally sitting on my back so I don’t go to work right now.”

Ryujin sighs and nods, letting the acknowledgment of that fact be inferred from her instead of admitted by.

“I guess that works,” she relents, “but I’m not letting you stay up past your bedtime.”

Yeji smiles as she offers up a small thumbs-up. “Sounds good to me.”

Ryujin starts to stand up, signaling Yeji to do the same, but then she sits back down and sends both of them back to the floor.

“Oh, and you’re showering first by the way. If I’m going to have to keep tabs on you all night, I don’t want you smelling like bulgogi and beef tongue.”

“Deal,” Yeji replies. “I don’t want that either. Just let me reply to the email first?”

Ryujin nods before dog-earring the page she’s on and setting the book aside. She stands up, entirely this time, and helps Yeji to her feet. While Yeji goes over to her desk to send out the email, Ryujin takes the three steps over to the dresser where Yeji keeps her staying-in clothes and picks out some stuff for them – she decides it’s going to be a baggy shirt and shorts kind of night.

“Alright, let’s go,” Ryujins says as she walks over to the door, making sure to look behind her to catch Yeji’s reaction.

“Let’s?” Yeji says as she sets her phone down on the table. “You’re gonna join me?”

“Of course,” Ryujin grins as she opens the door. “Someone has to make sure you’re not working in the shower, right?”

Yeji’s response is a chuckle as the two of them make their way to the bathroom.

After placing their clothes on one of the shelves, Ryujin goes over to the shower and turns the water on before walking back to the mirror. By the time Yeji has the door closed behind them, Ryujin’s started taking off her make-up.

“You know that’s not going to work anymore, right?” Yeji says as she approaches the shower. “You can’t just sit on me every time you–” She puts her hand underneath the water, and the smallest yelp accompanies the biggest shiver as she immediately pulls away. “Ah, it’s still cold!”

Ryujin’s eying her in the reflection of the mirror as she attempts to hide the laugh that peters out. “No, of course not, never again.” Once she’s done with the majority of her make-up, enough so that she’s sure the shower will take off the rest, she turns around and strips herself of her shirt. After throwing the garment into the hamper, her hands go to the top of her jeans when she sees Yeji staring.

“Need any help?” Yeji asks once the two make eye contact.

Ryujin lets the laugh out fully this time as she unbuttons her jeans and starts to step out of them. “It’s weird. I have this feeling that if I let you help me, that water’s just going to be cold again by the time you’re done.” Ryujin throws the pair of pants to her once they’re fully off.

Yeji catches it and rebounds it over to the hamper, a small grin teased on her face. “It’d keep me from working at least.”

Ryujin doesn’t say anything this time as she continues to take off the rest of her clothes. First, her socks that Yeji keeps telling her to throw away because they have holes in them (Ryujin’s response is that if they didn’t have holes, there’d be no way to put them on). Second – and third– are the bra and underwear covering the last naked parts of her body. They’re mis-matched and not particularly sexy, but Ryujin can never tell by the way Yeji looks at her anytime she’s naked in front of her.

Once she’s nude, she walks over to Yeji and stands in front of her. For a moment, they just gaze at each other – Yeji looking at her like she’s the most desirable girl in the world and Ryujin feeling like it because of Yeji’s look.

Ryujin leans in and right when Yeji moves forward in response, she reaches over to the cold water and flicks some of it into her face.

“Oof,” Yeji shakes her head and pulls back, “What was that for?”

“I don’t think it’s fair you’re the only one who gets a show,” she answers. “Were you planning to shower with your clothes on? Chop chop, Hwang.”

Yeji gives her an adorable little sneer as she reaches for the bottom of her shirt.

“Wait.” Ryujin reaches out a hand to stop her. “Slowly.”

It takes a second for Yeji’s laugh to fully dissipate before she starts stripping again, but to her credit, she does do it a little bit slower this time.

Ryujin observes in silence, her eyes going over Yeji’s body as she takes off her clothes. She takes inventory of the garments she’s discarding – when and where she got them. Then, when Yeji is walking towards the mirror to take off her own make-up, Ryujin takes note of the moles and blemishes there as well.

“You’re a real hottie, you know,” she says after not talking for a bit.

“Takes one to know one,” Yeji retorts, looking over to her with a face as bare as the rest of her.

They don’t have time to dwell and stare as steam starts to come up between them.

“Okay, enough ogling.” Ryujin turns around and checks the temperature, lowering it just a bit before standing aside. “Time to get that pretty little butt of yours in the shower.”

Yeji eagerly takes to the direction as she moves to stand beneath the falling water.

Ryujin can almost see the stress leave her as the steam forms a fog around her. “Here,” she says as she reaches for the shower stool in the corner and moves it beneath Yeji. “Let me do your hair.”

“I love you,” Yeji says as she sits down in the middle of the spray.

“Uh-huh.” Ryujin moves to stand behind her, catching only little flecks of water as she does so. “That wouldn’t happen to be because I was the one that got us this stool, would it?”

“That’s one of the reasons,” Yeji says as she tilts her head back to look up at her.

“Yeah yeah, love you too.” Ryujin chuckles as she reaches for the conditioner bottle. “Now, close those eyes unless you wanna be the world’s first blind idol.”

After Yeji leans back forward, Ryujin squirts some conditioner into her hands before working it into her hair. “There we go.” With Yeji’s hair fully lathered, Ryujin reaches for the body scrub and wash before going to work on Yeji’s back. She knows she’s doing it right when she feels Yeji lean into her.

“Good?” she asks.

“Great,” Yeji answers.

Ryujin takes her time. She does so every time – but she does it now especially, knowing that after this Yeji is going to dive right into work. Once her back is done, Ryujin reaches for Yeji’s arms, taking care to be gentler around her more ticklish areas. Then, she moves around to the front to work on her legs. She kneels down, and when those are fully clean, she looks up to see Yeji staring at her.

“I’m sorry.” It sounds like she’s been holding it in – the one last thing she had tensed in her body while Ryujin had worked away at all other knots and kinks inside her.

“For what?”

“Everything?” Yeji replies. “I know this week hasn’t been easy and neither have I, so–”

“Hey, don’t.” Ryujin stops her. “I get it, it’s fine. You don’t have to apologize for–”

“But I do,” she starts, then shakes her head, “I want to.” She sighs. “I feel like this happens every time and I never get better at dealing with the workload and that makes you have to–”

“Yeji.” The way Ryujin says her name leaves her speechless. “You know me. You can’t make me do anything.” It’s enough to make Yeji think about smiling and that’s enough for Ryujin at the moment. “Everything I do, I do because I want to – whether it’s feeding you lunch or sitting on your butt until I’ve convinced you to, y’know, sit on your butt.”

And that’s enough to make Yeji giggle and that’s more than enough for her.

“And if we’re being sappy right now, I might would possibly also want to apologize too,” she adds. “Sometimes, I’m impulsive and maybe there are better ways to handle situations like these that aren’t…physical restraint.” Ryujin muddles the last words with a cough.

“You think?” Yeji takes the sarcasm she learns from Ryujin and she weaponizes it against her.

“Hey, what’s with the tone? I’m baring my heart and soul out here.”

Yeji nods and laughs. “My apologies, go on.”

“Nah,” Ryujin shakes her head. “You ruined the moment.” But she didn’t.

“We good?” Ryujin asks.

“We’re great.”

“Great.” Ryujin leans up and places a kiss on Yeji’s lips before standing up fully. “Because you are starting to get pruny and I am in desperate need of being pampered as well.”

Ryujin pulls the shower head off the handle and starts to rinse off Yeji.

“I get it, I get it,” Yeji says as she stands up and grabs the shower head from Ryujin. “I was done with you taking care of me anyhow.”

“I don’t believe that one bit, but alright.” The smirk on Ryujin’s face is the first thing Yeji probably wants to scrub off as she takes her place on the stool. After Yeji puts the showerhead back on the handle, Ryujin closes her eyes to let the hot water fully run over her. Chin upm, she holds her hands majestically out in front of her. “You may clean me now.”

She waits.

And waits a bit more.

It isn’t until she opens her eyes to see Yeji standing there, hands on her hips, that the sound she was hearing wasn’t the water hitting the floor, but Yeji’s foot impatiently tapping itself on the tile.

“Please?” Ryujin adds.

It’s enough.

Yeji nods, content, and then starts to treat Ryujin to the same kindnesses she was afforded earlier.

It starts with Yeji’s fingers on Ryujin’s scalp and that leads to a groan she didn’t intend but Yeji needs more of. She chases that sound as the shower rolls on around them – hands on Ryujin, knees on the tile, head settling between her legs.

“You know, Jinnie,” she says, looking up at her, “I really am glad you got this chair.”

Yeji leans in.

Ryujin leans back.

And the water is cold by the time they’re done.

Chapter Text

Four girls. Two videos. One week.

It’s not a hat trick, but it’s close.

They’ve done it before. They’ve done it again. And Ryujin can’t help but wonder when’s the next time they’ll have to step up to the plate like this.

Hands on the front of her thighs for support, she watches as the crew in front of her starts to tear down all the gear they had set up for the shoot. She looks at the producers, half of whom have left already, and the other half still talking to Yeji.

It’s weird, knowing that Yeji was the one that dragged them into this monster of a shoot, but also knowing that there was no one else but her that could’ve pulled them through as well.

“I can’t believe it’s finally over.”

Ryujin turns around to see Chaeryeong, hands on her waist and back arched into a satisfying stretch. It reminds her of all the joints in her own body, still screaming after all the work they’ve put in today.

“Don’t say that, you’re gonna jinx us,” Yuna bemoans as she approaches.

“How? We’re already done with the video.” Chaeryeong continues to stretch, the nonchalance of her replies posing a solid front to Yuna’s worry and superstition.

“I guess…” Yuna bobs her head, possibly going over what kind of crazy scenarios could happen if their luck does go sour, but then her eyes light up in excitement. “We should celebrate then!”

Ryujin perks up at the idea. They always go out together after days like these, but rarely do they tack on the word “celebration.” After all, if they were to grandstand after every time they filmed something, it would dilute and take away the meaning of the word. But with her heart still pounding in her chest and her muscles still aching, Ryujin can’t help but feel that there’s nothing more warranted than a celebration.

Chaeryeong nods as the idea takes root in her head. “We do deserve it,” she says, “but where?”

“I know.” There’s a certain smugness as Yuna takes a step forward, hands behind her back, as if she had been holding onto this for a while. “There’s a new restaurant down the street that everyone’s been talking about. We should go there!”

Ryujin’s familiar with the place, at least in the same sense as Yuna is in that she’s also heard about it. But, the moment that Chaeryeong opens her mouth and she doesn’t hear an affirmation come out, Ryujin knows that it’s better to step away now while the two hash things out.

“I was thinking maybe…”

Chaeryeong’s words fade out in her ears as Ryujin turns around. She’s surprised to see that it’s just the four of them in the room now – the producers must have left during their little celebration conversation. She keeps turning until she sees Yeji, having snuck off into a corner of the room. From the phone in her hand, it looks like she’s taking pictures for their social media accounts. She watches for a moment before floating on over to her.

“Ryujin, I’m gross, don’t!” Yeji protests as Ryujin snakes her arms around her waist and leans her chin onto her shoulder. She knows Yeji doesn’t mean it. Even though her tone is full of objection, there’s nothing that conveys that in how readily she leans back into her or how Yeji spreads her feet so that her shoulder sits at an easier angle for Ryujin to perch on.

“I’m gross too,” Ryujin says as she presses her sweaty cheek to Yeji’s. “Just take the picture already.”

Yeji does. Then she takes another. And then another. They go through a series of poses and expressions – some silly, some more serious – before Yeji finally lowers the phone, signaling the photoshoot as over.

As Yeji starts to weed through their pictures – adding filters, hashtags, etc. – Ryujin decides to lay claim to this moment and buries her face into the back of Yeji’s neck.

Neither girl was joking earlier – they are both a bit gross right now – but she doesn’t mind the way Yeji’s orange strands stick to her forehead or the smell of salt and conditioner that fills her nostrils. All of it spells out Yeji to her, and it’s a word she’d read everyday if she could.

She doesn’t know how long she’s like that until she hears the click of Yeji’s phone. Peeking her head out, she sees that Yeji’s taken another photo of them – Yeji gazing ever so lovingly at the girl planted in her neck.

“Cute.” Ryujin chuckles. “A bit too scandalous to post though, don’t you think?”

Yeji shakes her head as she looks down at her. “This one’s just for me.”

Ryujin looks at her, the smile on her face already curling into a smirk, when a cough from the other side of the room pulls their attention away.

“You guys ready?” Chaeryeong’s looking towards them, but not at them – possibly scarred from the several times she’s went to get them for something and they’ve forgotten to lock the door.

“Ready for what?” Yeji asks.

“We’re gonna celebrate wrapping the video!” Yuna answers. “We’re getting dinner at that new restaurant down the street!”

Ryujin looks over to Chaeryeong, the hint of a pout on her face, as it seems like she lost the war on where they were going to get grub.

“Oh, I hear that place is really good,” Yeji adds. “Let’s go!”

Yuna smiles and cheers before turning around and heading towards the door. Chaeryeong follows behind and Ryujin and Yeji stay back, their shoulders knocking into each other as they walk side-by-side out of the room.

Once they get into the car, Chaeryeong defers them to backseat so she doesn’t have to look at their flirting before dinner. Yeji flushes a bit at the statement, but they both slip into the back with no reservations, their hands finding each other immediately once they buckle themselves in.

Their hands don’t leave each other’s until they get to the restaurant and they have to unbuckle.

The restaurant isn’t exactly what they have in mind when they get their eyes on it. They’re a few blocks away from the main street and the exterior is unassuming to say the least. If it wasn’t for the fact that there are people coming in and out of it, Ryujin wouldn’t have been able to spot it at all.

But that opinion changes when they walk inside. The lighting, the music, even how the tables are spaced out – it’s all been tuned to the perfect ratio to not be obnoxious but still seem high-energy and inviting.

“We’re drinking, right?” Yuna asks as they’re led towards a booth in the corner of the restaurant.

“Wouldn’t be a celebration without drinks,” Ryujin notes, a smile on her face. She forgets sometimes that Yuna’s the youngest of them, but it’s fun to see that she still enjoys the novelty that is public drunkenness.

As Ryujin takes a seat across from Yeji – Chaeryeong first in the booth and beside her – she’s wondering what the older girl will have to say about the drinking proposition. It’s not that Yeji’s a party-pooper, but she is the one most cognizant of their public image and how alcohol might skew that one way or another. That’s why she’s a bit surprised when Yuna asks the server for a bottle of soju and all Yeji has to say is that she’d prefer the yogurt-flavored one.

With that settled and the four of them seated, they can finally start thinking about food. The first thing they decide on – even without looking at the menu – is an order of gopchang. As the years have gone by and they’ve eaten out almost every week of their lives, they’ve discovered there are few things better than alcohol and intestine in the same meal.

After that easy decision things get a little bit more contentious. Yuna’s asking for someone to split the corn pizza with her and Ryujin’s pointing out that she’s just doing that so she doesn’t feel bad when she eats the whole thing by herself. There’s not a lot of arguing after that, but there are a lot of pointed looks and pushed-up outs.

Thankfully, the server is quick to return with their alcohol. Yuna takes the bottle and pours out a shot for each of them before raising her glass in a toast. She looks at everyone, takes a breath, and then fizzles out instantly.

“Wait, what are we cheers-ing for?”

“Us?” Yeji floats the idea before them.

“We are pretty amazing,” Chaeryeong points out.

“How about,” Ryujin starts, “ the fact that we kicked some ass this week and finally get the chance to relax?”

“I like the sound of that.” Yeji gives her a sweet smile while the other girls offer their agreements as well.

And so the four girls cheer, content in knowing that though there will always be weeks of work ahead of them, that this one can at least be laid to rest.

There’s a loud clack as they bring their empty glasses back down to the table. Ryujin goes to wipe her mouth and the tang of the soju is still heavy on her tongue when Yuna decides to start round two.

“Wait,” Yeji says as Yuna reaches for her glass. “Before we get too drunk, I want to say something.”

The three of them turn to Yeji, quiet and still, as they wait for her words. Ryujin can see the way her gaze moves over them, as if remembering every interaction they’ve shared with each other this week.

“Thank you…” she takes a breath “...for everything you’ve done.” There’s a warmth in her words that settles on Ryujin’s skin, joining the slight buzz she’s already starting to feel due to the empty stomach and empty shot glass.

“I know this week was stressful, but I’m proud of you all for working hard and always doing your best.” The sentence starts and ends with Yeji’s eyes on Ryujin, but Yuna’s the first one to speak up.

“We couldn’t have done it without you, unnie.”

Yeji almost laughs at Yuna’s bright smile and earnest remark before she starts pointing the acclaim back at her. That’s when they start exchanging and passing along praise from one girl to another – notes like how Chaeryeong nailed the transition from the chorus to the verse or how bad-ass Ryujin looks when the song ends. It leaves them all feeling humbling, but also recognized – egos in check, but also checked off.

A wave of “oohs” and “ahhs” interrupts their group gush as the server arrives with their food and places it on the table. The clinks of plates and silverware as they move things around serve as the backdrop to the comments they make to each other about the best way to divvy things up and who gets what first.

But then, then all the sound seems to drop out as Yeji’s phone starts to ring. Yuna’s face falls. Ryujin puts down the plate she was holding. Chaeryeong just looks on in disbelief, adding in a “They can’t be serious,” as Yeji pulls out her phone.

Ryujin goes to pour herself another shot as Yeji turns to the side and answers, hand over her mouth. As she picks up the glass, Ryujin watches her from the side of her eye. Yeji’s talking too quietly for any of them to hear, but the look on her face is enough to tell them what’s going on.

The conversation is short and Yeji looks grim when she hangs up and turns back to them.

“I need to go back to the studio. There’s some promotional stuff I need to film before we can put out the videos and–”

“They couldn’t have asked you that before you left?”

They all turn to Ryujin when she speaks, the sharpness of her voice cutting through the restaurant ambiance.

She shares a look at Yeji, one that feels like it could last forever before Yuna comes in with a question.

“Should we wait for you?”

“Oh, no,” Yeji replies. “They said it wouldn’t take too long, but you should eat while the food’s still hot.

It’s funny, how Yeji’s pressing them to eat while she’s taken almost every chance she can this week to not.

“Have some before you go back.” Ryujin holds up a spoon full of rice and pork belly to her. It’s honestly impressive how much she managed to pile on in such a haste.

Yeji nods and leans forward to take the bite from her. She’s about to pull back when Ryujin impressively manages to gather up another spoonful for her.

“You should have another drink too.”

“Chae!” Yuna looks at the girl across from her with shock.

“What? I wouldn’t want to be sober if I had to go back to work like this.”

Ryujin manages to feed Yeji three things of rice before the girl stands up and steps away.

“I’ll see you all back at home.” Her eyes go to each one of them, as if offering up a small apology. “Don’t stay out too late, huh?” She forces a smile and tries to add some levity to the situation, but they all watch as Ryujin comes in to shoot it down.

“Same goes for you.”

Yeji nods, meek, before ending the night with a small bow before she turns around.

“Be safe, unnie,” Yuna calls out as they all watch her leave.

As the sound of the car outside starting up joins the music and chatter of the restaurant inside, Ryujin’s the first to turn her attention back to their food. She’s also the first to grab for the bottle.

She’s quiet as they eat. As they pay. As they get back in the car and head home. In the backseat by herself, she finds herself constantly glancing at the plastic bag containing their leftovers the entire ride.

Ryujin doesn’t perk up until they pull up to their dorm. The driver goes outside and opens up the door for them. Chaeryeong and Yuna exit promptly, but they all turn back to look at her when she doesn’t.

“You guys head in,” she says as she wraps her hand around the plastic of the bag. “I’m gonna head to the studio and see what our glorious leader is up to.”

“Ryujin–”

“Chae, it’s fine. You know how it is.”

“Actually…” It’s the driver – Siwoo. “Ms. Hwang said to not let anyone back at the studio tonight.”

“What?” Ryujin blinks and leans forward.

“Well,” he gulps. “Her intent was that all of you arrive safely back at your dorm and rest. She said that, as the leader, it’s her duty to make sure none of you overwork yourselves after everything that’s happened this week.”

Ryujin’s speechless as she looks on at him. She lets Chaeryeong unwrap the plastic from her hand and says nothing as Siwoo is instructed to deliver the food to Yeji. She doesn’t even fight as Chaeryeong helps her out of the car and closes the door behind her.

As Siwoo drives off, Yuna and Chaeryeong are standing in front of her.

“Do you want to–”

“I’m fine.” Ryujin doesn’t look at either of her friends as she squeezes in-between them to make her way towards their dorm. “I’m going to shower. I’m going to go to bed. And then I will wake up tomorrow and everything will be better.”

Yuna and Chaeryeong don’t get in her way. They watch her from afar, but it’s not the first time Ryujin’s been like this, so they trust her at least, but Ryujin doesn’t feel their eyes off of her until she’s back in her room in her pajamas.

She goes to her desk, not wanting to stew in the malaise that her bed would provide her. Reaching for her phone, she opens up her conversation with Yeji and she thinks about what to text her.

Several deep breaths later, she compromises on a simple request to message her once she gets the food.

She knows how dangerous it is to wait for something like that while the food gets delivered, so she falls back on what she normally does when she feels like this.

🐱: you up??

🍯: 🦥☀️

It’s not that late – definitely too late to work – but it’s not that late, so she shouldn’t be surprised that Lia’s up. Still, there’s a part of her that maybe wishes Lia hadn’t answered, that she could retire to her bed and just feel awful for the rest of the night.

Thumbs flexing in front of the screen, Ryujin wonders the best way to distract herself.

🐱: whats the word of the day

🍯: victual

Ryujin brings the phone closer to her face as she looks at the word. It’s something she hasn’t heard before, and definitely hasn’t seen in text. First “magniloquent,” then “magnanimous,” now this?

🐱: and that means…

🍯: victual – verb. : to supply with food
🍯: did 🦊 not use it today?

🐱: you have to stop giving 🦊 these
🐱: seriously

🍯: ??

🐱: she isn’t allowed to be smarter than me
🐱: that would ruin my life

🍯: it hasn’t before

Ryujin laughs. It’s the first time she’s felt at ease since before dinner started.

🐱: can you facetime?

It’s instant – the moment the message sends is the moment Lia’s face pops up on her phone. Ryujin answers and she’s greeted with a rather cozy looking Lia tucked into the corner of her bed.

“Howdy.” Lia’s audio cuts out in the middle of the greeting and the screen goes black, but it all fixes itself a moment after.

“Hey,” Ryujin says with a smile. “Bit early for bed, don’t you think?”

“Tell that to her.” Lia points her phone down at her lap to show Bella sleeping before angling it back up to her face. “I’ve been stuck here for an hour.”

The second laugh comes out easier and louder with Lia on the phone. It’s hard to not be able to just knock on her door and come in to talk like they used to, but this is enough for now.

“That’s the price of having a pet,” Ryujin laments. “By the way, did Yuna or Chae talk to you about their dogs vs cats thing?”

Lia huffs a breath as she nods. “Yeah.”

“I’m guessing you said dogs.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I said birds.”

“Birds?”

“Yeah, they can fly.” Lia says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Isn’t that so cool?”

The smile feels good on Ryujin’s face as she settles into the conversation.

“I’m guessing you said cats?” Lia inquires.

“Nope.” Ryujin pops the “p” in the word before continuing. “Dragons.”

“I never should have shown you that movie.” It’s Lia’s turn to laugh, her video shaking in response.

Hearing it, seeing it – it’s almost enough to pull Ryujin out of the dumps before Lia knocks her right back in.

“But speaking of dragons…I hear ours is doing that thing where she stops taking care of herself to focus more on work again?”

“How’d you know?” Ryujin’s face falls and it’s almost as if the smile that was just there had never existed.

Lia answers, but it gets caught up in the digital scramble. Ryujin only catches the end of it, her saying “How are you handling it,” but she goes on regardless.

“You know.” Ryujin looks to the side, not making eye contact with her. “Like usual.”

Lia looks at her in a way that reminds Ryujin of Chaeryeong.

“Really? ‘Cause she told me you sat on her.”

Ryujin angles the phone face down towards the desk as she mouths a small “Fuck” before turning it back towards her.

“She snitched on me?”

“We talk.” Lia shrugs. “About you. About her. Y’know, she doesn’t exactly love it when she goes into turbo-work mode either.”

“Then why does she keep doing it?” Ryujin’s exasperated as she runs a hand through her hair. “We were literally about to eat dinner tonight when they called her in and she had to go back to the studio.”

It’s the first time Lia’s quiet tonight and all that does is allow Ryujin to spiral.

“Then afterwards, when I tried to go bring her food, Siwoo said she told him that I wasn’t allowed?” Ryujin sighs. She groans. She wants to scream but she doesn’t, so she keeps on talking. “That means she knows what she's doing and she just doesn’t want to deal with the consequences or come face-to-face with the fact that it’s affecting the people around her.”

Ryujin looks at the screen and Lia’s just letting this all happen. She’s watching her, an expression on her face that Ryujin reads as permission to keep going.

“I just want to not be worried. Is that too much to ask?” Ryujin looks at her desk and the photos she has of them together. “At least when I’m there, I can check in and make sure she’s okay. But right now, I’m stuck in my room and waiting for her to text me if she got some leftover rice cakes and pork belly.”

Ryujin stops talking and it takes her a few seconds to realize it’s been a while since Lia has. She looks at the phone and she sees the same expression from earlier.

“Lia? Anything to say?” She shakes the phone as if to jumpstart her friend on the other line. “I kinda shat out my heart and everything, so…”

There’s no response from her and nothing from the phone either until the screen grays out and she’s told that the connection between them is unstable.

“Fuck.” She lets the phone slip out of her hands and onto the desk as she knocks her head back against the headrest of the chair.

Closing her eyes, Ryujin continues to wallow in the words apparently only she heard. But then she realizes how not true that is. Everyone’s heard it from her at this point, and in the same she continues to deal with Yeji’s shortcomings everytime they come up, the group also continues to deal with hers.

And it’s not just her (justifiably) complaining about Yeji’s lack of self-preservation, but the snark and the attitude and her admittedly comparable lack of self-preservation as well.

“Fuck…”

Her phone goes and she’s thankful she has something to stop her train of thought in its tracks. She takes a breath and reaches for the phone, expecting Lia and a message about her shoddy connection.

🐺: Food!! 🥘😋
🐺: ✨ Thank you so much! ✨
🐺: Love you!!! 💜🖤💜🖤💜

Ryujin wants to laugh.

It’s almost comical, the texts Yeji sends her. If Ryujin didn’t already know that Yeji was working, she’d be able to decipher it from the messages. It’s the same way she types on Bubble – the overarching positivity that seems to emanate from every one of Yeji’s pores.

Though, to be fair, it’s not that much different than the ways Yeji communicates in any other aspect of her life.

Scrolling down, Ryujin sees the picture attached to the last message. It’s Yeji in the break room – the same one she had avoided the other day – and she has all of the food they sent over laid out in front of her. It looks like she’s set up for a mukbang, and before Ryujin can send her a message about it, she gets another idea.

Ryujin texts Lia real quick before she starts another Facetime, but this time it’s with Yeji.

Chapter Text

Ryujin wakes up alone.

She’s surprised that Yeji’s not on the mattress beside her.

She’s disappointed that the older girl would leave without her.

But then she remembers that Yeji wasn’t even in bed with her the night before.

Ryujin thinks they had gone to bed together, but that’s only a half-truth. After her conversation with Lia, she had made the executive decision to video call Yeji. For her effort, she was rewarded with a private, one-on-one mukbang with the leader of ITZY.

It was nice to see Yeji, but it was even nicer to see her eat. In-between bites, Yeji filled her in on the stuff she was doing and Ryujin was at least relieved to hear that the producers had kept their word about the workload. It meant that Yeji was able to stay in the breakroom while shooting, which was good because neither of them had the heart to end the call after she had finished eating. Even when Ryujin was starting to feel tired – a side effect of the soju she had drunk earlier – she didn’t dare let Yeji hang up.

There was a smile on her face when she crawled into bed and fell asleep with the sound of Yeji doing aegyo on her phone. And there’s a smile now as she raises her arms above her head to wring the sleep out of her body. She groans, she stretches, and that movement is enough to cause the phone beside her head to slip off the pillow and onto the bed below it.

As she lowers her arm from the stretch, she reaches for her phone and is greeted with a message.

🐺: getting breakfast

It’s the second-best thing she could’ve seen this morning, the first being Yeji in person, but Ryujin will take what she can get. It’s a fair trade-off she supposes – the sacrifice of sleeping in to actually be aware enough of her bodily needs for food and to go and procure that food. She moves her thumbs into position to type out a response – just to let Yeji know that she’s awake – when she finds herself face-to-face with a new message.

🍯: awake yet

The smile on her face curves up at the ends as she sees Lia’s text. She figures that Yeji will either let her know when she gets back or Ryujin will hear her entering, so she decides to switch her focus.

🐱: no

🍯: how are you feeling

🐱: wow
🐱: are you checking up on me

🍯: 🤐
🍯: all i know is that you said you were gonna call her and then I didn’t hear a single thing since
🍯: so either you guys made up
🍯: or yeji’s six feet under right now

Ryujin chuckles and it’s hoarse and it’s rough because it’s the first noise she’s made today, but she likes how it clears the rasp from her throat. It’s an ugly laugh that only Lia can pull out of her.

🐱: our leader is still alive just so you know
🐱: she’s actually getting me breakfast right now 😉

🍯: goals
🍯: im so jealous

Ryujin’s about to respond when she hears a noise coming from outside her room. She looks up, waits for it to come again, but then nothing. She figures it’s one of the other girls and by the time she looks back to her phone, Lia’s already sent another text.

🍯: no more work right??

🐱: for now

🍯: cool beans
🍯: any plans today

🐱: i do not want to think about plans or scheduling ever again

Ryujin is about to go into a tirade about how the work-calendar has been nothing but the bane of her existence when she hears that noise again – it’s louder and she can tell it’s coming from the kitchen. She waits again, and this time, it’s followed by the yelp of a human voice.

She decides to check it out.

🐱: talk to you later
🐱: murderer in the house
🐱: 💀✌

Letting the phone land back down on the pillow, Ryujin eases herself out of bed. As she steps out into the hallway, the first thing she can’t help but notice is the peculiar smell hanging in the air. She can’t put her finger on it – it’s familiar, but at the same time, it also puts her on edge. It makes her wish – on the off-chance she had manifested this event – that she could take back the joke text she had sent Lia.

Maybe then her footsteps wouldn’t be as soft or as quiet. Maybe she wouldn’t be tip-toeing down a hallway she’s stomped through hundreds of times before. But then she sees it. And it’s not a murderer. It’s not a demon or some kind of beast, but it’s something even scarier than all of those things combined.

Yeji is in the kitchen.

Slack-jawed and anxious, Ryujin finds that her feet can only move her forward towards the potential danger. She’s done away with any attempts as stealth, though the sound of her footfalls are nothing compared to the cacophony and chaos happening on the stove-top.

Yeji’s not facing her when she approaches, hands and eyes tentatively on the volatile operation happening in front of her.

“What’s going on?”

Yeji jumps when she hears Ryujin before whipping around to face her. It sends a stray bit of sauce onto her face and though she doesn’t know what the mystery liquid is exactly, she does know that it’s very cold and it’s making her skin tingle.

“You’re awake!” Yeji says as she approaches her, rocking a look that Ryujin can’t help but notice. Yeji’s hair is tied up in a messy bun, she’s wearing her glasses, and she has an apron on. If it weren’t for the possible biohazard on Ryujin’s face, she’d be gawking at the sheer domesticity of it.

“Yeah, I am.” Ryujin reaches forward, pulling out the kitchen towel tucked into the side of the apron’s drawstring. “I thought you were getting breakfast,” she says as she wipes the mess off her face.

Yeji nods, not even noticing how Ryujin slips the towel back into her apron. “I was. I am,” she coughs. “I am getting breakfast…ready…for us.”

Ryujin looks at her, then looks behind to the situation in the kitchen, then back to her. Oh…”

“Yep.” Yeji smiles. “I was thinking, after…everything, that it’d be nice if I was the one taking care of you for a change.”

“Yeji…”

“This is not an apology, by the way – I know you said no apologies,” Yeji adds. “Think of it more as a…thank you.” Her face lightens up at the self-revealed revelation.

Ryujin doesn’t know what to say or what to think. She doesn’t know whether to thank her for the kind gesture or to downplay the tumultuous circumstances leading up to it. They’ve never been averse to doing things like this for each other, but this feels like more than a simple “I was thinking of you” spur-of-the-moment deal.

“It’s amazing,” Ryujin finally says. “You’re amazing.”

It’s an understatement to Yeji and to everything she’s ever done – this included – but she hopes that Yeji can parse her true feelings from the way that the words tremble as they come out of her mouth or the way her eyes brighten when they look at her.

Yeji’s laugh is soft and maybe she was also expecting Ryujin to not be so good at reacting to this. It wouldn’t be the first time after all. “Thanks.”

“Still,” Ryujin starts, “I just can’t believe it…” She glances behind her again, periodically checking in on the state of the kitchen. “I mean, cooking? You know, if you asked the producers, they probably would’ve shelled out for breakfast if–ow!”

“Rude!” Yeji says as she withdraws her hand from swatting Ryujin’s arm. “You know I’m a lot better than I was before.”

Ryujin nods. It’s true, and that’s the thing that scares her. Yeji is better than she was before – that is due to the fact that none of them were woken up by the smoke detector today. But still, as far as Yeji has come and might possibly go in the future, that doesn’t necessarily mean her food is any more edible or even recognizable.

“Don’t give me that look.” Yeji narrows her eyes on Ryujin as she sees and senses the girl’s clear apprehension. “I even watched a video before I started.”

“Just one?”

“Yeah, I was in a rush” Yeji replies, nonplussed. “That’s why I watched it at double speed.”

“And it was on how to make food?”

“Okay, enough of this.” Yeji rolls her eyes as she reaches for Ryujin’s shoulders and turns her around. “Go wash up and by the time you return, a delicious breakfast will be waiting for you.”

Ryujin has nowhere to go but forward as Yeji pats her rear and pushes her down the hall. The moment she feels Yeji step away from her, she takes the chance to look back. The image before her is snug and sweet– her partner adorned in a cute apron and bright while lovingly, if not competently, making breakfast on the stove behind her.

But Ryujin senses danger. She doesn’t see it, but she feels it in the air and in her bones. An image flashes through her mind – that picture of the little girl smiling while a house burns down behind her.

A shiver runs down her spine and she hurries down the hall.

Ryujin is about to turn into the bathroom when she hears phone go off. Swinging right instead of left, she goes back into her bedroom and reaches for her phone on the bed. She forgets the last message she had sent to Lia until she sees the missed call and several texts waiting for her.

🍯: hey
🍯: did you actually die
🍯: 😬
🍯: if youre the murderer and youre reading this then dont kill me
🍯: i promise i wont snitch

She’s reading over the words carefully before she decides to answer, but before that, she glances over her shoulder – just in case Yeji’s behind her.

🐱: i didn’t die
🐱: but i might now
🐱: yeji didn’t get breakfast
🐱: shes MAKING it

🍯: 💀
🍯: i call dibs on your stuff if you do

Ryujin contemplates asking Lia for help, but she can’t even begin to think about how that would pan out. Instead, she throws her phone back onto the bed before resuming her mission to the bathroom.

She washes her face. She brushes her teeth. She steadies herself for an uncertain future.

When she enters the hallway, Ryujin is relieved to see that the rest of the dorm is still standing. However, that feeling of elation is shot through like a balloon by a BB when she comes out of the hallway to see Yeji setting up the dining room table.

“Just in time.” The smile she has on looks like the same one she had on earlier and Ryujin is afraid of being the reason that smile ceases.

“Just in time,” Ryujin repeats as she maneuvers to the table. She stands when she gets there, knowing that if she were to sit down, she’d have nowhere to go after. Instead, her eyes scan over the food in an attempt to assess any possible threats properly.

There’s a large plate of scrambled eggs, and on closer inspection, Ryujin can see hints of green onion and carrots peeking through the yellow. She thinks Yeji was trying to make an egg roll, but was only able to handle the first half of that assignment.

Besides that is a shockingly wet bowl of rice. She doesn’t know what Yeji was going for there – it’s not soup, nor is it porridge, but a mysterious third thing.

“What do you think?”

“It…looks like breakfast,” Ryujin answers. She had weighed the words carefully in her mind before letting them out. It’s technically not a lie. In the same way a dog can look like a wolf and a wolf can look like a horse, the food in front of her does constitute some parts of breakfasts she’s had before. “What’s this?” She asks as she points at a bowl to the side.

“Oh, that’s our leftovers from last night.”

Ryujin nods as the finger she was pointing with falls. She doesn’t remember ordering anything that could or should have ended up like what she's seeing in front of her.

Yeji is ready to clarify what it is, though Ryujin’ not sure whether it’s because she thinks Ryujin needs it spelled out for her or if she’s just a proud chef explaining her dish like on those cooking shows they watch.

“I didn’t know what to do with all the banchan we didn’t finish, so I thought it’d be fun to mix them all together.”

Kimchi, potato salad, anchovies, etc. Again, technically all things one might see at breakfast.

“Well? Dig in.”

Ryujin looks at Yeji and she realizes that it’s the final mistake on top of many. She’s used to looking at her whenever hope is grim and the light is dark, but Yeji is not there to throw her a life preserver this time. Now, she’s being handed an anchor as Ryujin realizes she is locking herself into eating this the moment their eyes meet each other.

The genuine pride on Yeji’s face. The happiness exuding off of her. The promise of that scrunch besides her eyes if all things go just right. There’s not a single person in the world that could say no to this.

So she doesn’t.

Ryujin takes a bite.

She swallows.

And she regrets it.

“Do you like it?”

She doesn’t.

Ryujin takes a moment to figure out her response before she takes another moment to attempt her second swallow at the food in her mouth before she’s able to fully drag it down to her gullet.

“I like…you.” It’s a compromise of a sentence that ends up with neither of them happy.

The smile on Yeji’s face that she was trying to save dies on impact.

“It’s not that bad,” Yeji says under her breath as she reaches for a piece of the egg herself.

Ryujin thinks about the best thing to do in this situation. Does she try to save Yeji from herself and stop her from eating her own food? Or does she let the events in front of her play out and hope there’s room for two in the ambulance?

Out of all the things Ryujin is well-versed in, Yeji’s face is near the top. That’s why she finds herself taken back when Yeji’s face contorts in a way she’s never seen before. There’s something in the way her eyes shift, the way her mouth twitches. She’s following the chew in Yeji’s cheek, how it goes up and down before eventually slowing to a stand-still. Then, the swallow and the way it catches in her throat before she has to take another gulp to send it down.

Yeji takes a deep breath as the food settles in her stomach. Delicately, she places the chopsticks down on her plate and excuses herself from the table. She walks over to the kitchen and stamps her foot on the pedal that opens the trash can.

“I’m never cooking again.”

It’s a sight and sound that almost breaks Ryujin’s heart.

She stands up and rushes over to her. Grabbing the apron and setting it aside, she puts her hands on Yeji’s arms and tries to get a good look at her.

“Don’t…say that,” she says. She reaches up, brushing a finger against Yeji’s cheek to lift her face. Her eyes are looking off to the side, trying not to look at Ryujin. “It’s no big deal, okay? So, we’ll have order in, it won’t be the first–”

“That’s not the problem.” Yeji makes eye contact with her and she almost freezes at the intensity of her stare. “Every time I forget to take care of myself or I stay up too late, you’re always there and you manage to…” She looks down. “I can’t even make you breakfast.”

Yeji’s not perfect, but it’s so easy to forget sometimes. That’s where all the hard work comes in – she dances until there’s not a single misstep, she sings until there’s not a single errant note – she’s not perfect, but Ryujin hasn’t seen anyone come closer.

She’s never felt more loved by anyone than her – more seen or noticed – and even then, Ryujin’s aware of the work she’s put in to do that for her. Learning how to talk to each other, about how to deal with each other, and Ryujin can only imagine the frustration and disappointment that comes with not being able to succeed at this trivial thing that everyone around her can do.

“Yeji,” she says it quiet, as if to make Yeji look at her and pay attention. It works, and when their eyes meet, Ryujin reaches down to take Yeji’s hands in hers. “It’s totally okay that you suck at cooking.”

Ryujin can feel Yeji’s hands tense in hers and before she has the chance to pull those hands back and possibly threaten her, Ryujin continues.

“You don’t need to be able to do everything all the time, every time. So, you can’t cook, why does that matter? You do tons of stuff for me that I don’t think I’d be able to do in your position.”

“Like what?”

“Like deal with me in general?” Ryujin chuckles and it’s enough to get a small smile out of Yeji. “I basically made you clock-in every time we ate and there was that day I sat on you and wouldn’t let you work.”

“You are pretty unbearable sometimes,” Yeji notes, her eyes playful and her smile growing.

“I am, and that’s just me. I have no idea how you deal with me, and Yuna, and Chaeryeong, and all the people at JYP everyday. If they called me in last night, they would’ve had to call the police once I got there, that’s for sure.”

That gets a laugh out of Yeji and it’s enough to make Ryujin want to get more.

“Oh, and don’t forget this. I don’t think I’m too shabby at it, but Yeddeong – that thing you did in the shower the other day? I’m so lucky I was already sitting, because–”

“Don’t be gross!” Yeji’s swatting her with her hand again, but the hit is gentle and her laugh is warm and all it does is coax a laugh out of Ryujin in return.

“You didn’t think it was gross when you were doing it.” She cocks an eyebrow at Yeji, who cocks one in return. She knows she’s one more sentence away from another smack, so she decides to wrap things up.

“Listen, I don’t know what I’m saying anymore, but sometimes you work too hard and I get to take care of you when that happens. And sometimes I’m…persistent and you get to handle me whenever that happens. It’s just…kind of how we work, you know?”

Ryujin hopes that the message comes through. It’s hard to say how much Yeji does for her without listing literally everything that happens every day seeing as how intertwined both of their lives are. It’s hard to recount how many times Ryujin gets out of bed a bit faster because Yeji is already up or how she keeps her mouth shut whenever they’re dealing with a finicky producer because she knows Yeji’ll be disappointed with her.

But she sees the look on Yeji’s face, the understanding that comes from being so close for so long and it lets the breath that Ryujin was holding in finally escape.

“Okay.” Yeji leans in and kisses her. It’s a chaste kiss, but it’s perfect for a morning breakfast. “I love you.”

“Thanks.”

Yeji purses her lips a bit as she takes Ryujin’s hands in hers and squeezes them – just tight enough to send a message. “Say it back.”

Holding back a grin, Ryujin leans in and offers her an equivalent kiss. “I love you too.”

Yeji eases up the hold on Ryujin’s hands and Ryujin takes that opportunity to slip away from her.

“Great. With all that settled, how about both take a crack at breakfast now?”

“What do you mean?”

“It means it’s my turn to look cute in an apron.” Ryujin winks and heads towards the kitchen. She reaches for the apron and throws it over herself before round two of making breakfast starts.

Ryujin wouldn’t call herself a good cook, but she needs to be one for Yeji right now, so that’s what she does. Starting with the eggs and some of the wet rice, she decides to pull from their stock of seaweed to make kimbap – frying it as well to help with the overall texture and wetness of it. On the other end of the spectrum, the remaining rice is made even wetter with Ryujin adding more broth until it becomes a nice porridge.

The bowl of sides mashed together is what confuses her the most. But the kimbap she made reminds her of the lunch they all had the other day and the army stew that she had fed Yeji. Finding a few packets of noodles and seasoning, she pairs that with some gochujang and the bowl of banchan in an attempt to overpower the conflicting flavors and unify everything under one hopefully edible dish.

Yeji’s with her every step of the way and Ryujin does her best to make it feel like they’re both doing this and she’s not just fixing Yeji’s mistakes. She asks for her opinions, she divvies up duties between them, but mostly, she does what she usually does whenever she’s with her – enjoys the time spent together.

They’re done before they know it and Yeji’s back to setting the table for their second attempt at making breakfast when Chaeryeong emerges from her room.

“What smells so good?” Chaeryeong’s voice is low as she walks out of the hallway, a hand rubbing at half-closed eye.

“Breakfast a la Hwang,” Ryujin replies as she starts getting more plates and glassware.

The answer pries both of Chaeryeong’s eyes wide open as she approaches the food.

“You made this, unnie?” Yuna comes up behind Chaeryeong, hiding behind Chaeryeong as she eyes the food from a respectable distance.

Yeji is about to answer when Ryujin steps up beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in. “That’s right, she did.”

The two other girls look down at astonishment as they take a seat at the table.

“Wow…” is all Yuna is able to say.

As they look at what is maybe the first miracle ever made real, Yeji shoots a look at Ryuji and mouths “Why?” to her.

Ryujin smiles and leans her mouth into Yeji’s ear.

“I actually haven’t tasted any of it yet, so if they think you made it, they’ll have lower expectations.”

Ryujin pulls back, a grin wide on her face. She can feel Yeji’s arm snake around her waist, the both of them closer than ever now, as she leans in.

“You’re a real ass, you know.” Yeji whispers to her.

“I know.” Ryujin whispers back.

There’s no more words from them after that, silent looks and soft gazes as they bask in each other’s presence. Instead of the twitter of birds and sparkle of wind chimes, it’s the clink of plates and glasses on the table and Ryujin is fine with either. It’s nice and it’s cozy, that is, until they get interrupted by a loud, defiant cough.

Moment broken, the two of them look towards the table and see Chaeryeong looking back with a look of pure mortification on her face.

“Really?” she says. “Right in front of my jigae?”