Like a cliche, gray clouds gather in the sky, promising a downpour on a day like this—the day I hit lower than rock bottom. The only silver lining I can find in all this shit is finally being able to see Minji after what feels like forever. I just wish her parents weren’t also here.
“Here,” Mrs. Kim says, sliding a paper cup of water and a wrapped pastry towards me. “You should eat.”
The coffee shop, in all its efforts to appear lively and casual, just feels like another wing of the hospital—quiet, heavy, and full of people barely holding on. I take the flimsy paper cup and sip at the stale water. The pastry stays untouched. I'm not sure I can stomach it right now.
“Thank you,” I utter, not quite meeting their eyes. The usual disdain in them doesn’t feel as strong today.
Minji fidgets with her hands under the table. Everything that happened after she found me in the hallway went by in a blur. Part of me still can't believe that it's really her. The other part of me wishes she didn't find me in such a sorry state.
Mr. Kim clears his throat. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah.” I stare into the empty paper cup, rolling it idly in my hand. “It’s my dad. He…” My voice gets caught in my throat. I grit my teeth in an effort to compose myself. “...He’s sick."
A beat of silence passes as my words slowly sink in. “We’re sorry to hear that. Truly,” Mr. Kim offers.
I just nod, unsure of what to say. A heartfelt apology feels so foreign, especially coming from him.
“How is his condition?” he asks.
“Stable, I think,” I mutter. “He’s breathing.”
“Breathing is good,” Minji utters, her voice so soft I almost miss it. She opens her mouth like she wants to say more, but decides against it in the end. As small as they are, those words mean more than anything.
Mrs. Kim slides the untouched pastry closer to me. “You need to eat something if you’re going to be there for your father,” she says, not unkindly.
I glance at her with uncertainty. The lack of iciness in them feels especially jarring. Nonetheless, I take the pastry, offering a small yet grateful nod.
“We should get going,” Mr. Kim says as he glances at his watch. As Minji’s parents head towards the exit, Minji’s lips quiver as if she wants to say something.
“U-um,” she stutters, “Father, may I—”
“I’ll bring the car around,” he says, wearing an expression I can’t quite read. “It looks like it’s about to rain.”
“Don’t take too long, dear,” Mrs. Kim adds, sparing us a brief glance.
Minji lets out a long exhale as her parents exit, leaving the two of us alone to speak. There’s so many things I want to say to her, yet so little time.
The first thing that comes out is a small, “Thank you.”
She lets her lips lilt into a gentle smile, the mask she wears in front of her parents melting away. “I haven’t even done anything,” she says.
“You’re here.” I let out a short breath. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t found me.”
Minji’s eyes turn glassy as they peer into mine. “I’m sorry about everything. You don’t deserve any of this.” She leans forward a bit, her expression growing stern. “And you better not say you do, because you don’t.”
I can’t help but smile at her remark. “Okay. I won’t.”
“Good.” Her eyes soften and I get lost in them like a maze I don’t want to escape. The last time I was able to stare at them like this feels like a lifetime ago.
“How are you holding up?” she asks. “Every time I see you, you seem so… tired.”
I sigh, my body sinking into the chair. “I am,” I admit. It’s been forever since I’ve been able to properly eat or sleep. My sanity is holding on by a thread and I can barely control what's left of me these days.
Minji tentatively reaches out, interlocking her fingers with mine. Every muscle in my body loosens as our palms mold against each other like puzzle pieces. Who knew a touch could be so gentle?
“I… don’t know what this means,” I utter, staring at our intertwined hands. “But I want to know.”
Minji’s lips quiver with hesitation. I wonder if that was the correct thing to say. Was it too soon? Should I have just kept my mouth shut? Before I can linger on the thought for any longer, a black car rolls up to the front of the coffee shop. From outside, Mrs. Kim waves at Minji to leave.
Both of us jolt our hands back in fear of being caught. Why does this have to feel illegal? Why is it so hard just to hold her hand?
“I have to go. I’m sorry,” Minji mutters, a sigh drawing from her lips. “I really, really, really want to talk more, but…” Her gaze falls to the ground.
“It’s fine,” I breathe. The words feel bitter on my tongue. “You should go.”
Minji reluctantly trudges towards the exit, looking back just one more time. I can see it in her eyes, all the things she wants to say dancing at the tip of her tongue. It feels comforting in a way, knowing that I’m not the only one who feels like this.
“Bye, Yuno.”
“Bye, Minji.”
I watch her car leave until it's nothing but a black dot in the distance. Once again, I'm alone.
I sink into the chair, the weight of everything pulling me down. But, for a single fleeting moment, resting in Minji’s palm, I felt like I could finally breathe. Like fate threw me a damn bone for once.
The unopened pastry sits idle in front of me. Tentatively, I tear open the plastic wrapping and bring it to my lips. It tastes… stale and cold—but it’s enough. Enough to make me realize that, despite it all, I have to keep going. Too much is at stake if I give up now. And I’m not ready to say goodbye to the people around me, the ones that saw a reason to stay that I haven’t been able to find in myself.
So, I force myself to chew through the tough pastry. Because I need to eat something if I plan on moving forward.
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The brief talk I had with Minji yesterday didn’t change much. It didn’t magically make my dad recover overnight. It didn’t erase Sunghoon from existence. But at the very least, it made me feel a little lighter. The problems I’m facing are my own, but I have people around me now—people that care enough to make my burdens more bearable.
And right now, there's two people that I've been pushing away for far too long.
My footsteps echo throughout the empty hallways as I walk towards my locker. I’m never at school this early, but I need a second to breathe before I face Yujin and Winter. I’ve been a shitty friend to them these past few days, stumbling around like a zombie while pretending that everything’s fine. Yujin’s constant worry, my outburst against Winter, I need to apologize for all of it.
“Hey.” I hear Yujin’s voice approach me from the end of the hallway. Winter trails behind him, like she’s bracing for another outburst. “We got your text. You wanted to talk?”
My gaze falls to the ground, unable to meet their eyes. “Hey. Yeah, just… sorry. For everything.” I suck a breath in through my teeth and release it back into the air.
The air between me and them is silent and distant. Maybe I really have fucked things up for good. “When shit hits the fan, I shut down,” I continue, fist balled inside my pocket. “Don’t talk for days, sometimes weeks if it’s that bad. It happened back then when… when my mom died.” I feel the words tangle up in my throat, threatening to choke me, but they need to know the whole truth. They need to know why I am the way I am. Why I’m so bad at shit like this. If I’m gonna be better—for them, for Minji—they need to know the truth.
“Back then, it didn’t matter. There was no one around me I could talk to. Everyone knew me as the shy kid with no friends, so on the outside, I seemed fine. My dad did the same. I would always find him staring at pictures of mom. He wouldn’t cry, just… stare. Like if he stared long enough, she’d step out of the frame and everything would turn back to normal.”
The first few nights after mom died were the worst. When the news finally hit that she succumbed to her injuries, dad and I both shut down. We were all we had left, but neither of us could bring ourselves to talk about her openly. The house we had lived in our whole lives felt so hollow without her. She was in everything—the couch she fell asleep on during movie nights, the kitchen that was filled with the smell of her cooking, the hallways lined with memories that I’m still grieving.
A shaky breath brushes past my lips as I fight to hold back the tears. “Before you guys, I had no one. Once dad got a hold of alcohol, there wasn’t a single person I could talk to about any of this. And I was fine with that. Or, at least I thought I was.” My nails dig into my palm, a desperate attempt at keeping myself together.
“It’s why I got into so many fights—there’s no space to think about anything else when your life's on the line. Over time, my reputation grew into what it is today. People avoided me, like saying the wrong thing would make them my next target, and I continued on like this because I had no fucking clue what else to do.”
I let out a long sigh, the weight of everything I’ve kept inside finally lifting off of my shoulders. Even as the ghosts of my past claw at my chest, a sense of relief washes over me. Like I can finally breathe again. “This isn’t an excuse for the way I’ve been acting, I just… thought you guys should know.”
Before I even have a chance to think, I feel two pairs of arms wrap around me tightly.
“Dude…” Yujin says, his voice a mere whisper against my ear. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me too,” Winter adds gently, squeezing my shoulder. “No one deserves to carry all that alone.”
I open my mouth, ready to brush off their comments with an “I’m fine” or an “It’s not a big deal”. But instead, I say, “Thank you. For being here.”
I pull them close, careful not to crush them in my arms. The three of us stay like that for a while, not caring about the weird looks from students passing by. When we finally let go of each other, something in me feels different. Lighter. Like I’m truly not alone anymore.
Yujin looks at me, brows knit together. “So, what happened that made you shut down like this?” he asks.
I explain everything—the banquet, the kiss, Sunghoon, Minji’s parents, and what happened with my dad. The entire time, they just listen, letting me pour out everything that’s been keeping me down. It really does feel good to have friends.
“Wow…” Yujin sighs. “I knew something was off, but I didn’t know it was this bad. Why didn’t you tell us all this earlier? We could’ve done something to help you.”
“I don’t know,” I utter regretfully. “I didn’t want to burden you guys with all this shit.”
“You’re not a burden, you’re our friend,” Winter says softly.
“Thanks.” I look her in the eye. “And sorry for my outburst yesterday. You didn’t deserve that.”
Her lips curl into a small smile. “It’s okay. It was… scary, but I know you. We both do. And we know you wouldn’t hurt us unless you were hurting yourself.”
I truly don’t deserve these two.
“Oh!” Yujin exclaims suddenly, pointing at my face. “Are you crying?”
“What, I’m not—” I brush my eye, tear droplets rubbing off on my finger. Sniffling, I wipe them away, hoping that’s the last of them.
“Come here, man.” Yujin, arms outstretched, tries to hug me again, but I keep him away with my arm.
“Get off of me, I’m not crying—”
“—Don’t fight it, we’re here for you, bud—”
“—Yujin, I swear to fucking—”
“—C’mon, love me!”
The hallways begin to fill with chatter as the first period draws nearer. Winter giggles to herself, ignoring my pleas for help, while I try to keep an annoyingly persistent Yujin at arms reach. I should be annoyed, but for the first time in a while, I feel normal. Happy, even. Happy in a way that I haven’t felt in forever.
“Yuno.”
I whip my head around to see Principal Geier looking at us, holding a serious expression.
“Winter. Yujin. Good morning,” he greets with a nod.
“G-good morning, s-sir.”
“G’mornin!”
“I just need to borrow Yuno for a moment,” Geier says. “There’s some things we need to discuss.”
Winter and Yujin exchange uneasy looks, but I put a hand on their shoulders, squeezing them for reassurance. “I’ll be fine,” I tell them, and for once, I mean those words. “I’ll see you guys later.”
I shoot them a grin before following Geier along the familiar route to his office. Whatever he has to say, I’m ready for it. Fate be damned.
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“Sit,” Geier says, his tone gentler than usual. I expect him to bring up what happened with Sunghoon. Knowing that prick, he probably snitched to get me suspended or something.
“How are you doing these days?” he asks, catching me off guard with his sincerity. “I’ve noticed you’ve looked a bit down recently. Everything alright?”
“Uh…” I’m not about to dump all my emotional baggage on the principal of all people. “I’m doing better now,” I utter.
“Good, good,” he nods, hands folded on his desk. “Back there, are they your friends? Winter and Yujin?
I feel a smile creep up onto my face before I can stop it. “Yeah, they’re my… best friends.” The words sound foreign yet pleasant coming out of my mouth.
“Hey, that’s great to hear.” Geier grins at me, which freaks me out a bit. I’m much more used to the angry tomato he turns into than whatever this is. “It took a while, but you found your people.”
“Yeah, I guess… So, what is this about?” I ask, skepticism in my tone.
He scoffs, offended. “What, I can’t check up on my students? I’m the principal for pete’s sake, this is my job, Yuno.”
“Right.” I still can’t quite shake the feeling that something is off here.
“Look, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but if there’s anything you would like to discuss while you’re here, I’m happy to listen.” He leans forward in his chair like he’s half-expecting me to suddenly pour my heart out. I’d rather he just yell at me at this point.
“Uh… Nope. Nothing,” I say.
“Nothing?”
I shake my head. If he wanted me to dump my entire tragic backstory on him, he should’ve come a minute earlier in the hallway.
Geier leans back in his seat with a defeated sigh. “Fair enough. Get back to class,” he says as he waves me off.
As I gather my backpack off the ground, I stop—as much as I hate to admit it, he’s saved my ass more than once. The least I can do is throw him a bone.
“I guess… I could use some advice,” I mumble reluctantly.
“Yeah?” His eyes light up just a smidge. “What’s going on?”
“My dad is… unwell.” I clear my throat, pushing each word through. “I don’t really, um, know what to do or, like, say to him, I guess? He’s been doing better recently, but then this happened, and now… I’m terrified.” My vision blurs as tears threaten to pour from my face. Fuck. I’m trying not cry in front of my principal of all people, but it’s the truth—I am fucking terrified. Even if he’s stable now, what if something bad happens later? What if, on top of all the shit that’s been going on lately, I lose my dad after I just got him back?
I can’t go through this again. But I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to stop it.
Geier lets out a heavy sigh into the air, his expression noticeably darker. “I’m so sorry, Yuno. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through,” he begins, slowly, calmly. “It’s hard not to feel powerless when it feels like your world is collapsing all around you. But I can promise you this—you are not alone.”
He leans forward in his chair, making sure that I hear every word. “You have a support system, Yuno. Lean on them. Don’t try to shoulder all these problems alone, because you aren’t alone. You never are. And speaking as a father, I can tell you right now that all your father needs is you. Be there for him. Show him what he needs to fight for.”
I wipe my tears against my sleeve as his words hang in the air. God dammit—he’s not so bad at this whole “principal” thing after all. “O-okay…” I mutter, sniffling.
Geier scribbles his signature on a slip of paper and hands it to me. “Here’s a pass. If you need anything else from me, you know where I am, alright?”
“Yeah.” I take the pass from him and trudge towards the door. “Uh, thanks, Geier.”
He gives me a final nod as I shut the door behind me. In the now empty hallways, I lean against the wall, getting my bearings for a quiet moment. Christ, when did I get so emotional? I feel like I’ve shed more tears in the past two days than I have in the past couple years. Thank God no one burst into the room while I was being a big fucking cry baby.
I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, probably my friends wondering what Geier wanted. But as my eyes scan the notification, my jaw drops to the floor in utter shock.
Minji: hey :) meet me in the music room after school?
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The end of the day can’t come fast enough. As soon as the final bell rings, I jump out of my seat and sprint all the way to the music room. Having never been anywhere near the music room, I get lost a couple times, but it doesn’t matter. I would scale the entire world on foot if it meant Minji was somewhere waiting for me.
I skid to a halt outside the door as I finally find it, tucked away in a quiet corner of the campus. Taking a second to catch my breath, I gently push the door open, finding Minji sitting in front of a grand piano. Her slender fingers lightly dance along the keys as she sways her head to a song playing through her earbuds. Golden afternoon light cascades from the windows and rests on the soft skin of her cheek. I almost cry again from the mere sight of her—she’s so beautiful.
Finally, after staring at her for way longer than I probably should, Minji notices my presence, her lips curling into a soft grin. “Yuno.”
I feel my chest tighten from the sound of her voice. “I, uh, got your text.”
“So you did.” She pats the spot next to her, inviting me over.
The last time we were this close, we were in a dreary coffee shop on a rainy day after I just went through one of the worst experiences of my life. But now, we’re here, in the sunny quiet where no one can disturb us. Our own little pocket of the universe, even if it’s just for a fleeting moment.
“I didn’t know you played,” I comment, glancing at the piano keys.
“Kind of,” she breathes. “I used to come here all the time when I was a freshman and teach myself piano whenever I had free time. Sometimes the music teacher would come in and teach me a song or two.” Her smile widens at the memory. “But after I became student council president, I haven’t been able to stop by as often. I was never that good in the first place, but it was always fun to learn something new. Something that my parents didn’t force me to do.”
“I’d love to hear you play.”
“Maybe.” She gazes longingly at the piano, fingers brushing against the keys just light enough so that they don’t make a sound. “Y’know, I never really wanted to become student council president.”
My brow raises in surprise. “Really?”
She nods. “I don’t regret doing it—I like being able to help people on a larger scale and trying to make things better from the inside out—but this was always what my parents wanted me to do.”
“Huh,” I breathe, letting her words sink in. “What do you wanna do?”
“I don’t know,” Minji sighs. “I mean, I do know, I’m just not sure if I have the courage to do it.”
It’s entirely unfair that someone as talented and hardworking as Minji has to go through all this shit. It makes sense for me, but what did she ever do to deserve this? Tentatively, I reach for her hand, lacing my fingers with hers. Her eyes widen at me, cheeks turning a rosy pink, but she doesn’t pull away.
“You’re stronger than you think,” I say softly, looking into her eyes. “I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me, but I believe in you.”
Minji’s lips curl into a smile, and I swear it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. “That means a lot. Thank you.” Her gaze falls down to our hands, still tenderly intertwined. “I guess we should talk about what this is.”
I gulp nervously. “Do you want me to let go?”
She shakes her head. “Do you want to let go?”
“No,” I admit. I’d much sooner cut my own arm off then willingly let go of her hand.
“Good.” She gently squeezes my hand in hers. “So I guess this means we’re… dating?”
As much as I would like that, it just doesn’t feel right. Not yet, at least. “I'm… not sure,” I utter.
Minji lets out a long sigh, her thumb gently caressing the back of my hand. “Honestly, me neither. Things have been so hectic lately that the thought of us happening just feels… unreal.”
I nod in agreement, but I can’t quite quell the gnawing insecurity in the back of my head. After everything that happened, we’re finally here, together, but the thought of messing it all up before we even start scares the hell out of me.
I like Minji. I want to be her boyfriend. I want to hold her hand and keep her close and be hers in every sense of the word. Fearful yet determined, I suck in a deep breath. “Maybe we can start things slow. No labels, just us,” I suggest sheepishly. “I… like you, Minji. A lot. And I really don’t want to mess this up.”
Minji bites her lip, failing to fight back a smile as her cheeks turn as pink as cherry blossoms in spring. “You’re stronger than you think. I believe in you,” she teases. “And I like you too, Yuno. A lot.”
As those words grace my eardrums, I feel my heart burst out of my chest, growing wings and flying to the Heavens above. Eat shit, Sunghoon. This girl—this beautiful, amazing, smart, kind, angel of a person—said that she likes me. I don’t care about what her parents think, or what those other rich fucks think, or what anyone else in the world thinks.
Minji Kim likes me. And that matters more than anything.
“Uh, do you have to be anywhere soon?” she asks, a shy look in her eyes.
“Not for a few hours,” I reply. “Why?”
Minji offers me one of her earbuds. “I told my parents I had a student council meeting today so they won’t expect me home for a little while. Do you want to listen to music together?”
As if I could ever say no to her. I take the earbud and place it into my ear, watching as Minji scrolls through her playlist. After a second, the sound of a gentle piano plays straight into my ear, making my body sway side to side. As each note plays, I feel my body growing lighter and lighter, like I might float away if Minji’s grip wasn’t tethering me to the ground.
Outside of these four walls, things are still a mess. My dad is in the hospital. Sunghoon is still creeping around somewhere. Minji’s parents still don’t approve of me. But right now, none of that matters. It’s just us. Not quite friends, not quite dating—something in the middle that’s uniquely our own.
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Dad’s condition has improved since I last saw him passed out and barely breathing. The doctor says he won’t be 100% for a couple more days, so I’m making an effort to visit him when I can. Like Geier said: ”Show him what he needs to fight for.”
“Are you sure these flowers are okay?” Winter asks, a vase full of pink carnations in hand. “I don’t even know if your dad likes pink.”
“It’s fine,” I reassure her. “He’ll love them.”
“It’ll really stand out against all these white walls, don’t you think?” Yujin adds with a chuckle. Hospitals never fail to make me feel some type of way, but at least I’m not alone this time.
As we enter my dad’s room, we see him scraping down the remnants of a jello cup while watching a rerun of Jeopardy on TV. “Hey kiddos,” he says, his eyes lighting up once he notices us.
“Hi, dad,” I say, mirroring his grin. “I brought some friends from school, Winter and Yujin.”
Winter nervously sets down the vase on his bedside table. “H-hello, Mr. Lin. We got these f-for you.”
“Thank you! How’d you know my favorite color was pink?” my dad jokes. Compared to how he was on day one—just barely clinging on to life—seeing him so animated puts my mind at ease.
Yujin approaches him, hand outstretched. “It’s nice to officially meet you, sir! I must say, you’ve done a fine job raising your son!” As nice as the sentiment is, I can’t help but cringe on the inside.
Dad matches Yujin’s energy, shaking his hand with the same fervor. “Did I?” He glances at me, and for a moment, I can see a crack in his expression. It’s just a mere flash, but I know what it means—all the regret of not being there for me these past couple years is still eating at him from the inside. “I can’t take all the credit. His mom did most of the work. Isn’t that right?”
I shake my head and quickly change the subject. “How are you feeling, dad?”
“Amazing, if you can believe it.” He reclines back in his bed, his hands resting behind his head with a content sigh. “They got all the streaming services here, and I get as many jello cups as I want.”
“Even the lime ones?!” Yujin asks, his eyes widening as if all-you-can-eat jello is the epitome of luxury.
“Absolutely, my friend,” Dad chuckles. With how sociable he is, it’s a wonder how I’m his son. “So how’d you two meet Yuno?”
A flash of panic hits me. “Well, uh—”
“He beat up my bully for me.” Yujin beats me to the punch, casually explaining my violent past in less than a dozen words.
“He… did?” Dad glances towards me with an expression I can’t quite read. Disappointment? Anger? Confusion? Maybe all of it. My gaze falls to the side, cheeks burning with shame.
“M-mine too, technically,” Winter adds. Well that’s just great.
An awkward tension hangs in space between me and my dad and I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes. Part of the process of becoming a better person is coming to terms with the fact that I did shitty things, noble intentions or not. I hurt people. I probably put them in this same exact hospital. Maybe even the same bed my dad is in at one point in time.
This feeling sucks, but I have to come clean eventually. I can’t keep my dad in the dark forever, right?
“Yeah,” I utter carefully. “They were being bullied, and no one else would do anything about it, so I… stepped in.”
My dad doesn’t say anything right away, leaving me to guess what he’s thinking.
‘When did I raise such a monster?’
‘Your mother would be so disappointed in you.’
Something along those lines, probably.
"So, that time you came home with all those bruises…" my dad mutters, putting the pieces together.
I nod. "These guys were threatening Winter. I didn't want her getting hurt, so…"
A tense moment passes. And then, a laugh.
"You really are your mom's son," he chuckles.
"What?"
"Oh yeah, she was a real firecracker when she was your age." My dad's eyes wash over with this dreamy look as he recalls the past. "She couldn't stand bullies. Half the time, I was there to calm her down, but if I wasn't? Oh boy. She once took down five other girls by herself and walked away with nothing but a broken nose!"
Yujin, Winter, and I exchange confused looks. "Mom was really like that?" I ask.
"You should've seen her, Yuno! If it weren't for your grandma forcing her to become a nurse, I bet she would've been a world champion MMA fighter!" he guffaws.
To think, my own mom, who I only remember as being kind and compassionate, used to be just like me?
I imagine what she must've been like in her younger days. Was she enraged by the lack of action from the school? Did she take matters into her own hands to protect others, even if it meant getting herself hurt? Did grandma ever scold her for always getting into trouble? If Mom was still alive, would she have scolded me the same way? Or would she see part of herself in me?
I'll never know. And yet, I feel closer to her than ever.
"Wow!" Yujin stares at me, all starry-eyed and awe. "Your mom sounds so cool!"
"Oh, she was the coolest!" Dad lays back with a satisfied grin. "But that's a story for another time. Sorry kiddos, this old man is getting a little tired."
"Can we come visit you again, sir?" Yujin asks.
"Of course."
"It was a pleasure meeting you," Winter says.
"Likewise." He lets out a long yawn, his eyes fluttering shut. "Take care of Yuno for me, will ya?"
I roll my eyes. "See ya, dad."
"See ya, son."
The last thing I see before we shut the door is my dad's resting face—so peaceful. So alive.
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Minji's POV
Yuno and I are something.
More than friends, not quite dating yet—just something.
The thought of it is enough to force a smile out of me. A couple months ago, I never would've believed I would be part of something, let alone with Yuno, but now, our little something is all I can think about.
I know we said we would take things slow, but my god, all I can think about is holding his hand. They're so warm and a little rough around his knuckles, I could trace his calluses for hours. And the way his eyes dilate whenever he looks at me? So cute. I feel like I'm going to burst into a billion specks of light just thinking about him.
But alas, all good things must come to an end.
I barely have enough time to kick off my shoes before the smile is wiped off of my face.
"Welcome home, dear," Mother greets me from the living room. Next to her are the Parks, and that slimy gremlin that they call a son.
I muster up the most convincing smile I can. "Hello, mother. Mr. and Mrs. Park. Sunghoon." Why does he always have to be here at the most inopportune moments? Not like there's ever an opportune moment for him to be around, but I digress.
"Why don't you join us for some tea?" Mother offers.
"I'd love to, but I have a, uh, bio test I need to study for."
"Why don't you have Sunghoon join you?"
Ah. Just great.
"Mrs. Park has been telling us all about Sunghoon's tutors," she says.
"If you'd like, I can get you in contact with them," Sunghoon adds with that cheesy grin.
"Thanks, I'll, uh, think about it," I mutter.
I trudge up the stairs with Sunghoon in tow. As soon as the door shuts behind us, his grin drops, revealing the true slime ball underneath. He can stay here to keep up appearances with our parents, but I'm not speaking to him if I can help it.
"What? You're just going to ignore me now?" he scoffs.
I do just that, idly scrolling through my phone.
"Fine. Be that way." The room fills with a tense silence. I can feel his eyes burning a hole through me, but I don't dare look up from my phone.
"You know what," he begins again, "you're lucky that I haven't said anything to my parents about Yuno's attack against me." Sunghoon touches his throat where Yuno had choked him just days ago.
I know what he's doing—just trying to get a rise out of me. I won't give him the satisfaction.
"I could have him expelled!" he all but yells. "He attacked me, Minji! And you're siding with him? What is your deal?!"
Any louder and our parents will storm upstairs to find out what all the ruckus is about. Will he really go that far? Who knows what this psychopath is capable of?
Sunghoon rakes his hands over his face, clearly irked by my silence. "One more slip up from him and I'll get him expelled in an instant, do you understand me?" he growls.
"Touch him and I'll choke you myself," I say before I even have the chance to think about it.
He laughs. "Oh, I'd love to see you try."
"Ugh, gross." I scoot away from him. "Why can't you just leave us alone?"
Sunghoon's eyes grow wide. "'Us'? Since when we're you two an 'us'?"
"It… doesn't matter," I stutter.
"Are you two… dating?"
I bolt to my feet. "Get out of my room."
"Minji—"
"Get out."
"You are making the biggest mista—"
"I'll scream," I threaten. I'm not sure what exactly screaming will accomplish, but it seems to be enough to get him to back off.
He scoffs. "Maybe I won't even need to do anything. Eventually, he'll screw this all up himself." The door slams behind him, and I'm finally left alone.
Sunghoon can say whatever he wants. I'll protect Yuno with my life if I have to. This is my first something and I'm not gonna let this slime ball take that away from me.
I collapse back onto my bed, phone in hand. With how much of a roller coaster life has been lately, I need a good distraction.
synopsis: minji thought she had you figured out—just another noisy regular at her family’s internet café, always breaking the rules and pushing her patience. but when you started showing up alone, lingering longer, slipping beneath her defenses with every quiet smirk and unexpected softness, things began to shift.
contains: SLOWBURN (everyone cheered), mutual pining, jealousy, not really enemies-to-lovers, more like annoying x annoyed, no angst this time🥳
word count: 15.5k
you didn’t really notice her the first few times. not in the way that mattered. not in the way you now pretend you never did. she was just the girl at the counter, a constant fixture of the café you and your friends had started treating like a second home — the kind of place that smelled like warm plastic and floor wax, where the keyboards clacked in uneven rhythms and the monitors hummed just loud enough to drown out the quiet.
it was always bright in there, the fluorescent lights making everything feel like it was happening in the middle of a late afternoon no matter what time it actually was, and you liked that. you liked how time bent a little when you were logged in, how the world outside blurred into background noise, especially on days when school felt like an empty hallway and your classroom was just another place to sit still in.
the café wasn’t perfect — the chairs wobbled, the headphones were old, the snack shelf was overpriced — but it was familiar. and she was part of that familiarity. always behind the desk, always scribbling in the logbook or scrolling through something on her phone, barely looking up unless someone was causing a problem. which, to be fair, was usually you.
minji noticed you immediately. not because you were interesting — she didn’t think you were, not at first — but because you were loud. unmistakably, unapologetically loud. the kind of loud that didn’t only come from the volume of your voice, but from the way you took up space, dragging the good chair in the front like it was a part of your entrance, laughing with your whole chest over the sound of game effects and chat alerts, your group tumbling into the room like a school trip gone off-leash.
she’d memorized your face before she ever learned your name, knew the back of your head before she knew your voice. you were one of the regulars who came in during the dead hours, when most students were still stuck in their last class, and you always had that smug, gleaming look like you were getting away with something.
she didn’t like that look. she didn’t like how easily you ignored the signs, how you pretended not to hear her the first time she warned you to lower your volume. she didn’t like that it didn’t bother you to be scolded in front of your friends — if anything, it seemed like you enjoyed it. like her disapproval only made you dig in your heels. it wasn’t personal, not really. she didn’t hate you. she just didn’t understand people like you.
you got used to her voice before you ever really got used to her presence. it was always clipped, clean, a little bored — like she was constantly half a sentence away from telling someone to grow up. she didn’t yell, didn’t argue, didn’t raise her tone. she didn’t call you out more than anyone else, but when she did, it stuck.
you didn’t know why it mattered. maybe it was the way she never looked flustered. maybe it was because you couldn’t get a read on her.
or maybe it was because she kept noticing things you didn’t expect her to — how you always preferred the machine near the back wall, how you tapped your pen against the counter when you were impatient, how you asked for the same snack every visit but never ate it until you were halfway through your game. she didn’t say anything about it. didn’t act like it meant anything. but she noticed. and you noticed that she noticed. and then it became something.
minji started bracing herself whenever she saw your name in the logbook. it was a reflex. she didn’t even need to look up anymore. she’d hear a chair scrape too hard, or someone laugh too loud from the leftmost aisle, and she’d already know it was you.
but you were also the one who left quietly when asked. the one who once helped untangle the mess of wires when a younger kid tripped and yanked half the extension cords out of place. she didn’t say thank you then. she just made a note of it, like she made a note of everything else. like she couldn’t help it.
you once joked to your friend that the café girl had it out for you. “she looks like she wants to ban me every time i breathe,” you said, and your friend laughed, agreed, teased you about it. but you couldn’t tell if it was a joke. not entirely. because sometimes you’d catch her looking at you — not glaring, not even watching really — just… looking. like she was trying to figure something out. like you were an equation with a stubborn decimal.
minji doesn’t look up right away when the door opens.
the bell makes its usual sound, light and worn, like it’s been through too many rainy seasons and dustings and still rings out of obligation rather than cheer, and she barely reacts now when she hears it — just a small pause in the motion of her pen, a glance at the corner of the monitor to check the time, the hour flickering quietly in digital blue. it’s half past one. way too early for the usual rush. too late for the lunch crowd. a dead hour. the good kind.
she’s in the middle of writing down something in the logbook — a half-finished note about a broken headset cable, third one this week, not even surprised anymore — when she hears the faint scuff of shoes on tile. it’s not rushed, not the kind of sound someone makes when they’re in a hurry to get to their favorite seat. it’s unhurried. deliberate. and a little familiar.
still, she finishes writing the word first. she’s not about to drop everything because someone walked in weird.
and then she sees the shoes.
white rubber, slightly muddy at the edges, mismatched laces. she’s seen those shoes before. a lot. too many times. and above the shoes — socks, a little slouched at the ankles. above that — a school skirt. the colors sharp, not faded. worn neatly. regulation length. unmistakable.
minji blinks.
her eyes trail upward slowly. there’s a uniform blouse — clean, a little wrinkled near the elbow, but buttoned properly. your school crest sits on the pocket, clear as day. and your hair is the same as always — not styled, not tucked, just loose and slightly messy, like you didn’t care enough to fix it properly before stepping out. you’re carrying your bag on one shoulder, lazily. the same way you always do when you come here after class. except this isn’t after class.
you meet her eyes the moment she looks up fully, like you were waiting for it. like you knew exactly what kind of stare you’d get and decided to lean into it anyway.
you walk up to the counter slowly, that casual sway in your step that she’s come to recognize, and for a moment, minji doesn’t say anything. just watches. tries to figure out what you think you’re doing. because there are signs. so many signs. taped outside the door. beside the desk. on the snack shelf. red ink, bold letters.
and you’re here. in a uniform. in the middle of the day.
her pen stops moving completely.
you say it before she can open her mouth. “before you say anything, i know.”
of course you do.
you point a thumb toward the door. “the sign.”
it’s there — taped to the door, a little wrinkled at the corners, with all-caps block letters printed in faded red ink:
STRICTLY NO STUDENTS IN UNIFORM ALLOWED DURING SCHOOL HOURS.
there’s another copy of it taped beside the monitor near her elbow. and another one stuck beside the snack shelf. you’ve seen them all before.
minji leans back a little in her chair, not quite crossing her arms but close. her fingers tap the pen once against the desk. she’s not mad — not yet — but there’s a familiar tightening in her jaw, the kind that usually shows up when someone tries to get clever with the rules.
“so you do know,” she says, flatly.
you nod, like you’ve just confessed to a crime but don’t think it should count.
you shift your weight to one leg, look at her like you’re waiting for a reaction. like you’re already predicting which version of her you’re going to get — the bored one, the scolding one, the unimpressed one who always sends you back to your seat with a word and a stare.
“i just didn’t wanna go home yet,” you say, more relaxed than she thinks you should be. “and it’s just homeroom today. they won’t even notice.”
minji raises a brow. “that’s still skipping.”
you shrug. “barely.”
that annoys her. not a lot. just enough.
she doesn’t bother to repeat herself. you already know what the rule is. instead, she glances past you, just for a second, as if checking whether someone else is about to walk in. someone in the same uniform, ready to turn this into a pattern. but there’s no one. it’s just you.
she sighs, softly. “you’re not supposed to be here.”
“then pretend you didn’t see me.”
“you walked through the front door.”
“yeah, but with charm.”
minji wants to roll her eyes. she doesn’t. instead, she points at the sign on the counter with the end of her pen.
you lean forward slightly to read it again, like it might’ve changed since last time.
you let out a small exhale — not quite a sigh, but something close — then say, “i’ll change.”
minji blinks. “what?”
“if the problem’s the uniform,” you say, voice lighter now, like this is all some casual joke between you, “i’ll take it off.”
her spine straightens. “you’re not serious.”
“totally am.”
and before she can stop you — before she can even finish deciding how serious you actually are — you’re already reaching for your bag strap, unzipping it with one hand, fingers moving with practiced ease like you’ve done this a hundred times before, like this whole thing is just another level to beat, another argument to shrug off, and she watches as you slip the blazer off your shoulders and start on the blouse buttons like you’re just taking off a jacket. calm. casual.
she opens her mouth, but nothing comes out at first.
and somewhere behind the monitor, she can feel her pulse ticking a little faster than it should.
you don’t do it to be dramatic. you’re not here for a scene. you’re not even here for the games, not really — not like usual. it’s more about not being anywhere else. you woke up with that kind of mood clinging to you like sweat after a nap, the kind where everything felt too loud even when it was quiet, where the thought of sitting through another homeroom period under flickering fluorescent lights made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t name.
so you left. or skipped. whatever. it’s not like they’ll call home. not like anyone’s waiting. you had the uniform on already and thought it might be funny to show up like that — not for attention, just to see what she’d do. desk girl. the one who always looks like she has the whole world figured out and still manages to look bored by it.
she’s watching you now. not like she usually does, not with that sideways glance she gives you when you’re being too loud or eating chips near the equipment. no, this is different. still unreadable, still quiet, but focused. like she doesn’t know where this is going yet. like you’ve finally said something she doesn’t have a response for.
and for a second — just one — that makes you hesitate.
minji doesn’t blink. not when you say it. not when your fingers start undoing the buttons of your blouse. not even when you shrug one side of it off. she’s never been one to react quickly, never been easy to startle, and right now she tells herself that hasn’t changed.
but there’s a different kind of tension tightening around her ribs — not panic, not discomfort, but something quieter, slower, harder to name. her eyes flicker down without meaning to, just for a moment, just long enough to catch the black t-shirt underneath, slightly wrinkled, tucked halfway into what she realizes now are dri-fit shorts hidden under your skirt. of course. you’d planned this. prepared for it. like you knew you were going to end up here. like you expected her to stop you — and wanted to prove that she couldn’t.
you fold the blouse neatly and stuff it into your bag like this is just protocol, like there’s nothing strange about stripping off part of your uniform in front of the girl who’s scolded you more times than you can count. you don’t meet her eyes. not yet. but you know she’s still watching you, and for the first time, you feel the weight of that gaze settle differently against your skin.
minji exhales, slowly, quietly. she’s not sure what annoys her more — the fact that you found a loophole, or the way her brain is still catching up to what just happened. it’s not like she’s never seen someone change in here before. kids take off hoodies all the time. people adjust layers when the AC is acting up. but this feels different. maybe because it’s you. maybe because you said it so casually, like a dare. maybe because, deep down, she knows you’re not just doing this for yourself.
you finally look at her again, your mouth twitching into the kind of smile that’s just barely there, the kind that could mean anything or nothing. “problem solved?”
she wants to say yes. wants to roll her eyes and tell you to pay already. wants to act like none of this mattered.
but the air between you feels different now — just slightly charged, just a little off-rhythm, like something got nudged out of place and neither of you knows how to set it back.
instead, she says, “two hours?”
you nod. “and shin ramen. the black one.”
she punches it into the register without another word. doesn’t meet your eyes. doesn’t say anything when your fingers brush the coins on the counter a little too close to hers. doesn’t look up until you’ve already started walking toward the far right aisle — your usual spot, the one near the window, the one she always pretends not to hold for you even when the place starts filling up.
minji watches the back of your head as you sit down.
she doesn’t even realize she’s still staring.
minji stays seated for longer than necessary. your payment’s already logged, the receipt tucked away, the change sitting quietly in the plastic tray beside the register, untouched. her hand hovers near it, fingers brushing the edge, but she doesn’t move.
she stares past the monitor, not quite at the snack shelf, not quite at you either — somewhere in between, somewhere where her thoughts keep slipping back to the buttons of your blouse, your voice saying you’d take it off, the nonchalance in your tone, the quiet steadiness of your hands. she tells herself she’s just processing. that this is just annoyance, not confusion. that you’re just a problem she’s already solved. but her body betrays her — there’s a tension around her ribs that doesn’t fade.
and for what?
you’re not being loud. not throwing your voice across the café or stuffing chips down the side of the keyboard like you usually do. you’re quiet now. alone. not playing anything yet, not even pretending to be. just sitting in your usual seat, in that ridiculous layered outfit like this was always the plan.
she breathes out through her nose and stands slowly, the stool creaking faintly beneath her as she moves toward the snack shelf, every step measured like she’s not trying to buy herself time but ends up doing exactly that. she reaches for the Shin Ramyun Black — fingers curling around the familiar packaging, the weight of it suddenly too warm in her hand. it’s not new. you’ve ordered it before. but something about picking it up today feels different, like it means more than it should.
she sets the cup down, opens the drawer, pulls out a pair of chopsticks, listens to the electric kettle hum to life. even the water feels like it takes longer to boil, each second stretching thin with how quiet the place has become. her eyes flick to the clock again. three minutes pass. maybe more. she’s not really keeping track.
when it’s ready, she places the lid on, wipes her fingers on the side of her jeans, and makes her way toward you with the kind of calm she doesn’t feel.
you don’t turn around. you don’t need to. you sit there like you already know what she’s carrying, like you’ve been listening to every tiny sound behind the counter since you walked in.
she sets the ramen down in front of you without a word, her hand steady even as her mind refuses to quiet. and you glance up just as she’s pulling away.
you meet her eyes — not with a grin, not with that smugness you usually wear — but something smaller, more careful. she doesn’t look away. not this time.
something tightens in the space between you, not tension exactly, just something unspoken, something hanging.
and then you raise a brow, just slightly, voice low. “no drink?”
your tone is teasing but soft, like you’re testing the waters. her mouth parts, the usual retort balanced on the tip of her tongue, but she doesn’t say it. the corner of her mouth twitches, like she wants to scoff but can’t commit.
“next time,” she mutters instead, barely audible, and turns back toward the counter.
you don’t touch the mouse right away.
the monitor hums quietly, the wallpaper casting a faint blue glow against your skin, and for once, you don’t dive straight into the launcher or tap the shortcut to the usual game. your fingers hover near the keyboard, then fall to your lap, and you just sit there for a while, back against the chair, legs slightly stretched. not thinking. not planning. just sitting.
minji notices.
it’s the first thing she registers after she gets back to her seat — that you're not making any noise. no rapid clicks, no trash talk bleeding into the air, no calls to teammates or victory yells. just stillness. and you, backlit by the screen, your shoulders curved a little inward like maybe today isn’t about winning.
she keeps pretending to look busy.
flips a page in the logbook, checks the register even though no one else has come in. her eyes drift past the screen when she thinks it won’t matter, but you haven’t moved much. the ramen’s beside you now, lid peeled open halfway, steam curling up gently. she watches you stir it with your chopsticks, not eating yet, just watching the broth swirl.
a small part of her wonders if something happened.
not that she cares. not really. not in any way she’s going to admit. she just—
you’re not like this. and for a second, she’s not sure if she likes it better or worse.
you glance toward the counter once — just briefly, eyes flicking up through your lashes — and catch her looking.
she doesn’t look away fast enough.
you don’t smirk. you don’t say anything. just blink once, tilt your head slightly like you’re seeing her for the first time instead of the hundredth.
then you finally speak.
“you ever get bored, sitting there all day?”
minji doesn’t answer right away.
the question lands differently than the ones you usually throw at her — no sarcasm, no grin. it’s too normal. too honest. and it leaves her unsure whether you’re trying to make conversation or just filling the quiet.
she leans back in her chair slightly, eyes still on you.
“depends who’s walking in,” she says.
it’s vague. safe. but you catch the edge of it. your lips twitch like you want to grin — not the obnoxious kind, but the quiet, knowing one. like you know exactly what she means. like maybe today you don’t need her to spell it out.
you finally start eating, still slow, blowing gently on the noodles before slurping them in one smooth, practiced motion. you eat like someone who's used to feeding themself in quiet corners. like someone who knows when to take their time.
minji watches you again — not for long, just long enough to notice the way you pause between bites, the way your gaze sometimes drifts toward the window, or the shelves, or nowhere at all.
maybe something did happen.
maybe you just didn’t want to go home.
maybe — and this thought takes its time arriving — maybe you came here because it was the only place you felt like showing up to.
you finish the noodles slowly, the broth mostly gone, and for a moment, you just sit with the bowl in front of you, chopsticks resting on top, head tilted slightly toward the screen. the cursor drifts lazily across the desktop. and then you click.
a game launches — not the usual one, not the one you and your friends scream over — something quieter. older. the kind that loads with a low chime and no fancy splash screens. it hums to life in windowed mode, a familiar map blinking into view. you stretch one arm overhead, crack your neck to the side, and settle in.
minji notices the sound before she looks — faint, but enough to cut through the cafe’s low hum. she knows the game. it’s single-player. no shouting. no co-op. she doesn’t remember ever seeing you play it before.
you move differently when you play this one. more focused. less chaotic. you click with purpose, not force. your eyes don’t dart around like you’re chasing a kill count — they stay low, steady. there’s no music playing, just in-game footsteps and the occasional sound effect, and for some reason that makes the quiet feel heavier.
minji pretends to keep working, but her eyes drift up more often now.
you don’t seem to notice. or maybe you do, and just don’t care.
after a while, she stands. walks around the desk slowly, not like she has somewhere to be but like she just remembered something minor. her fingers trail along the edge of the counter out of habit. she passes the snack rack, glances at it like she’s checking inventory, then steps closer to your aisle.
it’s not subtle. and the excuse isn’t good.
“i think that chair’s been squeaking lately.”
you pause your game, turn slightly in your seat. “what?”
minji points vaguely at the base of your chair. “the wheel. or maybe the backrest. someone said it was noisy yesterday.”
you lean back experimentally, rock the chair once. it doesn’t squeak.
“seems fine to me.”
minji doesn’t move. her hand stays on the top of the divider like she needs to lean on it to stay balanced. she glances down at you, but your eyes are still curious — not teasing, not smug. just looking at her like she’s not as unreadable as she thinks she is.
you turn back to the screen. “you sure you didn’t just want to see what i was playing?”
she exhales through her nose. “as if.”
you smile without looking at her. “you can watch if you want.”
minji doesn't answer. doesn’t leave, either. just stays there for a few more seconds — long enough for the quiet to feel like something neither of you can explain away.
then she turns back toward the counter. slowly.
but not before glancing at the screen one more time.
just long enough to see that you named the save file after your screen name.
and maybe — maybe — she kind of likes that she recognized it right away.
the thing about weekends is that they don’t start slowly. not here. not at the cafe.
by the time minji opens up — keys jangling, shutters clattering, the metal door groaning like it resents being forced awake — there’s already a line of regulars hovering near the entrance, pretending they just happened to be walking by at the exact moment she lifts the gate. she knows better. she’s stopped questioning it.
the floor hums as the units boot up one by one. a ripple of light spreads across the rows of monitors, screen savers blinking to life like eyes opening from sleep. minji moves through it all without thinking — disinfects the keyboards, checks the snack inventory, updates the queue sheet. the rhythm is familiar. muscle memory. every saturday starts like this.
except now, she’s waiting.
she doesn’t mean to. really. but somewhere between checking the receipt roll and counting headset wires, her brain starts preparing for it. the shift. the disruption.
you.
you and your friends — the human hurricane. the noise she hears even through her own earbuds, the cause of at least three cable replacements and one unreported dent in a monitor stand. you’re always late morning or early afternoon. never alone. always loud.
minji glances at the clock. ten-thirty.
you never show before eleven. she should have a little more time.
still, she finds herself already bracing for it — the clatter of the door, the chorus of overlapping voices, the way your laugh always cuts sharper than the others and how, without fail, you end up in the same corner booth like it’s yours by birthright. no one else even tries to sit there anymore. she hasn’t reserved it for you, not officially. but she hasn’t stopped you either.
she sighs through her nose, clicks her pen twice against the desk, and opens the logbook. nothing broken yet today. a good sign.
outside, the sun’s already starting to bake the pavement. traffic’s heavier than usual. a dog barks, distant but persistent. minji taps her finger against her lip, squints at the monitor, and refreshes the time tracker for the third time in ten minutes.
it’s not like she’s looking forward to it.
she’s just — aware.
aware in the way someone might be aware of an incoming storm. not afraid. not excited. just… quietly preparing.
because you always come in like you own the air you breathe. like the rules don’t really apply unless you feel like they do. and lately — only lately — she’s noticed the way your eyes find her quicker than they used to. the way you smile now, just a little slower, like there’s something you’re holding back for later. something just for her.
she hates that she’s started looking forward to that part.
a little.
just a little.
the pen stalls halfway through a note about restocking ramen. she sets it down, leans back in the chair, and crosses her arms.
it’s not even eleven yet.
but she already knows what’s about to walk through that door.
the bell rings at exactly 11:07.
minji doesn’t flinch. she just closes the drawer she wasn’t really reorganizing, tilts her chin slightly like she’s only stretching her neck. doesn’t look up. not yet.
she knows it’s you.
it’s not just the sound of the door — it’s the cadence of it. the soft slam of a palm pushing it open too confidently, the hitch of your shoe against the doormat, the almost melodic rhythm of your steps like you’re trying not to run but also not trying that hard to walk. she hears more than one pair of feet — of course you didn’t come alone — but your steps are the only ones she zeroes in on without meaning to. always have. the others don’t matter. not as much. they’re the noise. you’re the signal.
and sure enough — when she finally looks up, it’s you at the front of the pack, all bright eyes and untucked confidence, bag slung over your back like it weighs nothing, like you couldn’t care less that it’s hanging open and there’s a half-crushed plastic bottle sticking out from the side. your friends are already halfway through the greeting process, calling dibs on chairs you haven’t paid for yet, but you take your time walking toward the desk.
of course you do.
you shoot her that look — the one that says hi without saying anything, all familiar and easy like yesterday didn’t happen the way it did. like you didn’t stand there unbuttoning your uniform while she stared, wordless and paralyzed, stuck somewhere between outrage and… whatever that other thing was.
minji doesn’t let herself react. she just stares.
you blink once, slowly, then grin. a real one this time. full teeth, crinkled nose. a little obnoxious. the kind that usually means you’re about to make a bad decision and want her to witness it.
“hi,” you say, casual like you’re not here to ruin the rest of her shift. “six hours.”
six. hours.
minji’s eyebrow twitches. “are you serious?”
you nod solemnly, hands in your pockets now, shoulders slouched forward like the weight of responsibility is just too much. “we brought snacks. we’ll behave. mostly.”
“you never behave.”
“then adjust your expectations.”
there’s a sharp snort from somewhere behind you — probably the tall one who always kicks the CPU when he dies in-game — but minji ignores it. her eyes stay on you. and for a second, you think she’s going to say something about yesterday. you think she’ll bring up the uniform stunt, the rule-bending, the smug way you left after your session like you’d won something.
but she doesn’t.
she just sighs, turns to the monitor, and starts logging your hours like it’s any other day. like you’re any other customer.
except she still doesn’t tell you how much it is until you ask. and when you pass the cash across the desk, your fingers graze hers — on purpose or by accident, you won’t say — and she doesn’t pull away right away.
you give your usual name. not your real one — the gamer tag, the dumb screenname she’s seen on too many monitors followed by too many kill-death ratios. she writes it down without looking up.
minji’s been mentally preparing herself for this.
she knew — the moment she saw your name in the logbook — that today was going to be loud. chaotic. the kind of shift that ends with her shoulders tense and her throat dry from saying “keep it down” too many times to a group that never listens. you, especially.
but even then, she’s still not quite ready for the full volume of it. the shouting, the cheering, the groans of defeat every time one of your teammates chokes a round. it spills from your aisle like smoke, curling through the café’s thin air like it owns the place. like you do.
and it’s not just the noise. it’s the way you sit — half-slouched, foot up on the CPU tower like it’s a footrest, headset askew, one hand flying between your mouse and the bag of snacks at your side. it’s the way your laugh rings out, too unfiltered, too real, like you don’t care who hears. like you forgot she’s even here.
she tells herself she’s only looking because you’re a problem. a disturbance. a managerial headache she needs to monitor.
but then someone — one of the louder boys, the one with the bleached fringe and loud opinions — leans across your chair, points at your screen, and says too loudly, “you only got that kill ‘cause desk girl’s watching.”
and that’s when she glances up for real.
not just a passing glance. a full turn of the head. brows slightly drawn together, pen halting mid-stroke.
you don’t answer right away. you’re too focused, too locked in. but your mouth curls slightly, and your eyes flick briefly toward the desk. just once. then back to the game.
your friend whistles, nudging your chair. “ohhh, you so did that on purpose.”
“shut up,” you say, but you’re grinning now. it’s a bad cover.
“someone’s gotta tell her. you keep showing up like this, she’s gonna start charging you double.”
“then i’ll just work here.”
minji doesn’t move. doesn’t look like she heard.
but her hand tightens slightly around her pen. not enough to snap it. just enough to feel it.
she doesn’t say anything. not then. not even when your whole row erupts again over some last-minute win and the one with the loudest voice starts banging the desk in celebration like you’re in a stadium. she just stands, walks over with a dustpan she doesn’t need, and pauses near the aisle entrance.
you catch her eye. mid-smile. your headset halfway off.
and even from where she stands, she can see how quick the grin softens. just a little. not shy. just—smaller.
she doesn’t say anything. just meets your gaze for a beat too long, then turns away.
you don’t really mean to stay this long.
most of your friends have already left — not with dramatic exits or grand goodbyes, just gradually, one by one, until the noise thinned out and the aisle emptied and you were the only one still here, headset pulled down around your neck, chair turned sideways to let one leg hang off. your game’s still open, but you haven’t moved in a while. haven’t clicked anything. haven’t even respawned.
instead, you’re watching the light.
it comes in slanted now, low and gold, leaking through the wide front window like it’s been waiting all day. it hits the rows of monitors and spills onto the scuffed tiles near the snack shelf, casting long, slow shadows over everything. and in the middle of it — barely catching the edge of it, actually — is minji.
she’s not doing much. just sitting behind the desk with her elbows propped up, a pen twirling in her fingers, her eyes following something on the screen in front of her. it’s not you. she’s not looking at you. and somehow that makes it worse.
you tell yourself you’re just tired. that’s why your chest feels tight. that’s why your fingers are fidgeting with the drawstrings on your sweatpants. that’s why you’re still here.
eventually, you stand. stretch. gather the courage that’s been poking at the back of your throat for ten minutes.
you approach the desk again — second time in half an hour — holding nothing this time. no ramen cup, no fake reason. just the half-used spoon still in your hoodie pocket and your hands stuffed deep into the front.
minji glances up.
you pause. shift your weight. and say, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, “you’re still here.”
she raises an eyebrow. “i work here.”
“i know. just… surprised.”
“that i’m not running away from you?”
you smirk. “kind of.”
her lips twitch, almost smiling, but she doesn’t answer. just looks at you. steady. unreadable.
you clear your throat. “you looked bored.”
“i was fine.”
“you looked bored,” you insist, leaning forward, elbows bracing the counter. “i figured i’d do you a favor. keep you entertained.”
she doesn’t roll her eyes, but it’s close.
“with what,” she asks. “more excuses?”
you tap the spoon twice against the desk.
“nah,” you say. “i think i ran out.”
minji doesn’t know why she doesn’t just tell you to go home.
you’ve already overstayed. your hours ran out half an hour ago. you’re lingering, clearly, with that restless energy that says you don’t want to be anywhere else but also don’t know how to say it out loud. she knows that kind of mood. has lived inside it more than she cares to admit.
she watches the way your hand taps the plastic spoon against the edge of the desk like you forgot it’s even there. how your eyes keep drifting toward the window, then back to her, like you’re trying to see how far you can push whatever this is before she draws a line.
she doesn’t.
not yet.
instead, she says, quieter now, “your friends know you’re skipping?”
your mouth pulls into a crooked grin. “some of them. not all.”
“won’t you get in trouble?”
you shrug. “not unless someone tells.”
her eyes meet yours. level. unreadable.
“what makes you think i won’t?”
you lean in a little, voice lower, like you’re trying to draw her in with you. “because if you wanted to get rid of me, you would’ve already.”
that does something.
not much. just the faintest flicker across her features. something close to surprise. something quieter than interest but not quite disinterest either.
she doesn’t answer. just looks down at her logbook, pen still poised over the margin, the last note still unfinished.
you watch her in the silence.
then, just as she starts to move again, you say — too fast, too casual — “do you want me to?”
she freezes.
it’s not a dare. not really. it’s barely even a question. more like a feeling that slipped out before you could stop it. one that sat too long behind your ribs and got tired of waiting for the right moment.
her eyes lift again, slow.
and this time, her voice is softer. almost wary. “what?”
“go,” you say. “do you want me to?”
the second time, it sounds smaller.
and for a moment, you can tell she hears it that way too.
she doesn’t speak right away.
outside, the last rays of light stretch across the café floor, warm and dying. someone walks by the front door, their footsteps soft against the sidewalk. a car engine hums into the distance. inside, it’s still. just the two of you.
finally, minji exhales.
not quite a no.
but not a yes either.
just something in between. something you decide — in that moment — is enough to stay just a little longer.
you don’t sit back down right away.
not because you’re planning anything, not because you have some clever line ready to go — just because you’re waiting to see what she’ll do. if she’ll look at you again. if she’ll say something softer this time. if the tension in her shoulders will finally settle.
she doesn’t tell you to leave.
but she doesn’t ask you to stay either.
instead, she pushes the spoon gently aside with one finger and opens the drawer beside her, pulling something out that you can’t see. there’s a brief crinkle of foil, the sound light, almost too quiet to notice, and then—
“here,” she says, and she’s holding it out to you without meeting your eyes. “you’re still here, might as well eat something.”
it’s a biscuit pack. the kind they sell in bundles. sweet, a little stale if it’s been out too long. familiar.
you blink.
“you’re giving me snacks now?”
“don’t make it weird,” she says, eyes flicking up for a second. “it’s probably expired.”
you take it anyway.
tear open the corner and pop one into your mouth. it’s sweeter than you expect. faintly coconutty. a little soft. you chew slower than necessary.
“you’re nicer when it’s quiet,” you murmur, just loud enough.
“you’re quieter when no one’s watching,” she replies, dry, but not unkind.
it makes your mouth twitch. not a laugh, not quite — but almost. the kind of almost you know she catches, even if she pretends not to.
you let the silence stretch for a while after that. there’s a rhythm in it. not tense, not awkward — just there. filled with unspoken things and the soft hum of the monitor and the clock ticking behind the shelf.
you lean on your elbow, picking at the wrapper now, fingers brushing crumbs into your palm. she types something into the logbook again. doesn’t comment when you start talking a little too easily.
“i think i’ve seen you at school before.”
her head lifts.
“you’re in morning class, right?”
a pause. then, slowly, she nods. “you’re in afternoon.”
“i thought so,” you say, like it’s only just clicking now. like you hadn’t already pieced it together weeks ago, when you caught a glimpse of her in the hallway near the admin office, hair tied up and sleeves rolled neatly. “makes sense.”
she looks at you, brows slightly raised. “how?”
“you seem like someone who gets things over with early.”
“and you seem like someone who doesn’t.”
you grin. “you’re not wrong.”
there’s a beat of quiet, but it’s different now — lighter.
you let the last bite of the biscuit melt on your tongue and say, “y/n, by the way.”
she doesn’t answer right away.
but when she does, it’s softer. almost like a secret.
“minji.”
it’s earlier than usual when you show up. not by much — maybe thirty minutes — but enough to catch her still halfway through opening tasks, sleeves rolled to the elbow, hair scraped up like she didn’t bother with a mirror, just needed it out of her face. she’s crouched near the counter, tugging open the bottom drawer with a familiar click of effort, and doesn’t look up right away when the doorbell chimes. but her hand stills on the handle for a second, eyes flicking sideways, already knowing.
you don’t say anything at first. just stand in the doorway, holding a nearly-finished bottle of soda and a paper-wrapped pack of fries like you walked over from somewhere else, like you just decided to drop by — not to play, not yet. just to exist in the space for a while. she looks up slowly, head tilted, face unreadable in that classic minji way.
you smile, lazy and shameless. “you’re open, right?”
she doesn’t sigh, but she might as well. “unfortunately.”
you wander in, ignoring the dryness in her voice, letting the cool air of the café settle over your shoulders. there’s a chair near the counter — not meant for customers, technically, but you’ve sat there too many times to pretend it’s not yours — and you drop into it like gravity brought you here on instinct. minji shuts the drawer, leans slightly against the edge of the desk, arms loose at her sides, like she’s still deciding if she’s annoyed or just resigned.
“you always open alone?” you ask, gesturing vaguely with a fry.
“on weekends.”
you nod, like you expected that answer. “makes sense.”
her brows raise slightly. “why?”
you shrug. “you seem like someone who doesn’t like people touching her stuff.”
she blinks. stares. not impressed.
you grin wider. chew your fry. say nothing else.
for a while, there’s nothing but the soft hum of machines waking up around you, the buzz of a monitor screen still on standby, the faint, familiar clatter of minji checking something off a notepad. your bottle rests between you on the desk. the paper wrapper for the fries crinkles under your hand. you pick at it absently.
then, without looking at her, you say, “saw you in school yesterday.”
minji doesn’t flinch. doesn’t even pause in her writing. “i know.”
you blink. lean back slightly in your chair. “oh.”
this time, she glances up. brief, unreadable. “you were with dani.”
you nod, a little slower now. “yeah.”
she says nothing else, just flips to a new page.
you speak again, voice a little lower. “we’ve been friends since middle school.”
still no reaction.
“i don’t usually go to school that early, but she begged,” you add, tone lightening. “made me carry her books and everything.”
minji hums. a sound barely there, almost automatic.
you smile faintly. “she’s annoying like that.”
“she’s nice,” minji says eventually, like it’s just a fact, like she’s sorting her thoughts out loud without meaning to.
“you like her better than me?” you tease, tilting your head, letting your voice stretch around the grin you’re half-hiding.
there’s a pause. she taps her pen once against the desk.
“depends on the day,” she says, and doesn’t look up again.
you laugh, soft but sincere. toss a coin between your fingers and watch it catch the light.
the day trickles by slowly. nothing urgent happens. no crowd pours in. the usual group chat is quiet. you boot up a game eventually, more for background noise than anything else, and then wander back to the desk with the half-full soda bottle still in hand. you set it on the edge of the counter — not too close, but close enough to be noticed.
she eyes it once, then looks at you. you raise an eyebrow like you're daring her to ask.
“got two straws if you want.”
she folds her arms. “didn’t ask.”
“didn’t say you had to.”
she stares for a second, unreadable again. then she walks past you, heading for the back shelf. and as she does, her voice trails behind her, low and casual.
“leave some.”
you freeze for half a second. then you look at the bottle. then at her back.
you smile.
and go back to pretending you weren’t waiting for that exact response.
minji doesn’t usually think about you between shifts. not in the way people think about things they’re curious about, or nervous about, or—whatever. it’s just that when she comes in, she has a rhythm. keys. lights. the familiar click of the drawer. pen cap between her teeth. and when she pulls the stool out from behind the desk and sits, sometimes, a little part of her does wonder if today’s going to be a you day. not because she’s looking forward to it. not exactly. but because it changes the shape of the hours. stretches them, tilts them on their side.
you’re not there when she opens. that’s normal. it’s a weekday again. early afternoon. still cool outside. she sets her bag under the desk and logs into the system, starts marking a few things down. headset seven’s still broken. she made a note to replace the plug but forgot. she writes that down. the fridge hums louder than usual. she notes that too. everything feels ordinary.
she doesn’t see you until past noon.
when the door opens, the bell rings sharper than usual. she doesn’t look up right away. she’s mid-scroll through an inventory sheet. she hears the door swing open and closed, hears footsteps that don’t rush or stomp or drag — they’re just... there. familiar enough to stall her hand on the mouse. she waits half a second. then looks up.
you’re walking toward the counter again, one hand tucked into your hoodie pocket, the other holding a small pastry wrapped in bakery paper. your skirt’s different today. longer. your socks are mismatched. you’ve got that same expression you always wear when you’re about to say something stupid. and for some reason, that makes her exhale a little through her nose, a breath not quite a laugh.
you stop at the counter. you set the pastry down like it’s a peace offering. “for your trauma,” you say.
minji stares at it. “what trauma.”
you raise your brows. gesture to yourself. “the stripping.”
she almost chokes. instead, she blinks. straightens a little in her seat. “you’re the one who did it.”
“i warned you,” you say, leaning an elbow against the desk. “told you i’d take it off.”
minji looks at the pastry again. it’s ube-cheese. not her favorite, but you wouldn’t know that.
she reaches for it anyway.
“you’re here early,” she says.
you shrug. “danielle had a club thing. made me come with her again. we got out early, though, so i figured i’d swing by.”
“you didn’t bring her?”
“she had to go home. something about her dog and a missing sock.”
minji hums. she unwraps the pastry slowly, more focused on not making a mess than on answering you. she takes a small bite. chews. swallows. “thanks,” she says, not quite meeting your eyes.
you smile. lean a little more of your weight onto the counter. “so you do eat.”
she side-eyes you. “what do you think i do, photosynthesize?”
“wasn’t sure,” you say. “you’re always behind the desk like some npc.”
“you play too much.”
“you monitor me too much.”
“you’re loud.”
“you like it.”
her chewing slows. she doesn’t say anything to that. just looks at you — eyes calm, unreadable again, but not cold. just... still. and when she speaks, it’s quieter. “do you talk like this to everyone?”
you pause. straighten just slightly.
“only people who look like they’re dying of boredom.”
minji lets out a slow breath. shakes her head once. “you’re ridiculous.”
“but you’re not asking me to leave.”
she says nothing.
and you don’t press it.
you reach for the straw dispenser, snag one, pop it into the cup you didn’t buy here but brought in anyway. minji should scold you for that. but she doesn’t. she watches you take a sip and watches you not flinch when the drink’s obviously watered down. you glance toward the far row of computers, the corner where you always sit, and hesitate.
“you’re not gonna be there long, right?” she asks.
you shrug. “maybe.”
“your friends coming?”
you shake your head. “not today. thought i’d play solo for once.”
minji raises a brow. “what, you lost a bet?”
you grin. “nah. just figured you needed a break.”
she snorts. it’s quiet, almost covered by the sound of the chair squeaking as she shifts. but it’s there.
you start walking away, drink in one hand, bag in the other. then you pause. twist a little to glance over your shoulder. “by the way.”
she looks up.
“what’s your favorite?” you ask, nodding at the pastry in her hand.
she blinks. takes another small bite without answering.
you smile wider. “i’ll guess.”
and then you disappear down the aisle, shoes quiet on the tile, leaving her staring after you like she’s still trying to figure out if you’re just messing with her or if this is something she should start paying attention to.
she looks down at the wrapper in her hand. chews slower. and tells herself it’s nothing. still.
still.
you always enter the café like you never left it.
it’s a kind of second home, in a way — not because it’s warm or welcoming (minji rarely gives you more than a blink before she’s back to her monitor), but because it’s familiar. the floor tiles with their small, worn cracks. the faint smell of instant noodles and plastic packaging. the soft hum of screens that never sleep.
it’s easy here. easy to be loud. to laugh too hard. to drag your friends into arguments over which gun is better or whose fault the last match was.
and minji — she’s part of that familiarity now too. not in the way your friends are, not loud and messy, but quiet, backgrounded, like the hum of the fridge or the way the fluorescent lights always flicker a little near the snack shelf. she’s always there when you arrive. always at the desk, chin in one hand, pen tapping against some old receipt or repair log, eyes flicking up only when necessary.
you like that about her. that she doesn’t flinch. doesn’t react much, even when she’s clearly judging you. there’s something kind of fun about trying to get a rise out of her. like a game you haven’t figured out the rules to yet.
today, though, you don’t push it right away. you dump your bag into the usual seat, slide into the one next to it, throw your leg over the edge like you own the whole aisle. the others are still arguing about snacks and seat numbers, so you just lean back and glance at her through the space between monitors.
she’s pretending not to look. but you know she hears you. you saw the way she sighed.
you’d call it exasperation if her gaze didn’t always linger a second too long. like she’s not quite sure what to make of you. that makes you grin.
there’s something about being looked at like that — not with annoyance, not really, but with interest hidden under irritation — that makes the room feel warmer than it is.
you stretch. crack your knuckles. toss your friends a look. you’ll play a round or two. then maybe swing by the counter with an excuse. a dumb one. something that makes her raise her eyebrow the way she always does.
something to make her look again.
minji tries not to anticipate it.
tries to focus on the list in front of her — the one with today’s headset assignments and payment logs and reminders to restock the cup noodles. but her eyes keep flicking upward, toward the monitor that shows the corner where you and your friends are sitting.
your screen flashes bright once — a familiar game loading interface — and she exhales quietly through her nose.
right on schedule.
she busies herself with inventory for the snack shelf. checks the expiration dates on the chips even though she already did that yesterday. picks up a can of soda, puts it back. double-checks the machine’s coin slot.
you haven’t come up yet. but she knows you will.
you always do, somehow. not every visit, not every hour — just enough that she’s started to recognize the rhythm of it. there’s always a pause between matches. a break in the laughter. a lull before the approach. it’s never urgent. never important.
just you.
standing at the counter with that same tilt to your voice. always starting with some throwaway line that has nothing to do with what you actually want to say.
she doesn’t know why you do it. or maybe she does. maybe she just hasn’t admitted it yet.
and just as the thought crosses her mind, the bell dings again.
not from the door — from the counter. the small metal one you tap when you’re trying to be annoying.
she looks up, slowly.
you’re already leaning against the edge of the desk, elbow on the counter, that bad excuse halfway out of your mouth.
“hey,” you say. “do you guys have — like, i don’t know — ethernet cables that are infused with luck or something? because i swear i’m lagging only when i’m about to win.”
minji stares at you.
you grin.
you knew it was a terrible excuse the second you said it.
it doesn’t even make sense. there’s nothing wrong with your connection. you’re doing fine. your team just lost because you weren’t paying attention for half the round — too busy sneaking glances through the gap in the divider to see if she was looking up.
she wasn’t.
so now you’re here. at the counter. with the dumbest question you could think of, just to get her attention.
and it works. kind of.
she’s looking at you now. deadpan. unimpressed. but not annoyed, not exactly.
“lucky ethernet cables,” she repeats, voice flat.
you nod solemnly. “yeah. for, like, clutch rounds. maybe gold-plated. blessed by a priest. i don’t know. family trade secret?”
she blinks once. then says, “i’m not even going to respond to that.”
you press your palms together. “please. this is a critical situation.”
“you’re so dramatic,” she mutters, but there’s a shift in her expression — something small. not quite a smile. not yet. but close. her mouth twitches at the corner like she’s fighting one off.
you let the silence stretch a little. let the moment breathe. then you shift your weight and glance casually at the monitor on her side of the desk.
“you’re here early,” you say.
“so are you,” she answers without missing a beat.
you nod, then tilt your head. “danielle dragged me to school this morning. some volunteer thing. i thought i’d just kill time here after.”
minji hums, not surprised — just taking that in. the way you say her name so casually. like it’s normal. like of course you know dani. she remembers, vaguely, how you mentioned her last time. something about getting to school early. she didn’t think too hard about it then. but now, with you standing here again, your fingers tapping a light rhythm on the counter, she finds herself wondering how close you actually are.
“so that’s why you’re early,” she says, eyes flicking briefly to the clock.
“technically, i’m late,” you reply, grin lazy. “but this seemed like the better option.”
she doesn’t argue with that. doesn’t say much at all. just shifts a few receipts on the desk, like they need organizing. like she’s not watching you from the corner of her eye.
you stay there a moment longer, pretending to scan the snack shelf like you’re still deciding if you’re hungry. you’re not.
you just don’t want to walk away yet.
and she doesn’t ask you to.
you’ve started coming in a little earlier than usual. not always — sometimes your class drags or the bus takes forever or you really do lose track of time somewhere between the canteen and the corner store — but on the days you manage it, you find yourself slipping into the café just before the real noise starts. before the others show up. before the air thickens with energy and yelling and the heat of too many computers running at once.
minji always looks up. just for a second. just long enough for you to catch it.
she never says anything about it. doesn’t point out that you’ve started picking the seat closer to the front instead of your usual far-right corner. doesn’t comment on how you sometimes open a game but don’t really play — just click through the menus with your headphones around your neck, one ear exposed, listening.
and you don’t say anything either.
not when she walks past to stock the snack shelf and pauses when she sees your favorite chips already gone. not when she hands you a replacement without you asking. not when she clears a plastic cup from your desk like it’s normal, like it’s not the kind of thing she does for anyone else.
your friends joke about it sometimes — call you “minji’s favorite” when she gives you exact change without waiting, or when she lets you stay five minutes past your time without charging you extra. you always roll your eyes. call them delusional. but you don’t correct them.
because maybe they’re not wrong.
you don’t know when the shift happened. when the scoldings stopped sounding annoyed and started sounding amused. when the stares started lingering. when your name started sounding different coming out of her mouth.
you just know that lately, when you show up and she’s already there — hair pulled back, pen between her fingers, head slightly tilted as she reads something on the screen — it feels like arriving somewhere familiar. not quite home. not quite safe.
but something close.
and she looks at you now the same way she did yesterday, and the day before — like she knows you’ll be back again tomorrow. and the day after that.
and you think — yeah.
probably.
the bell rings a little harder than usual this time, like the door caught the wind outside, and minji instinctively glances up from the monitor. she isn’t expecting anyone just yet — it’s not rush hour, and the usual boys from your crowd haven’t barged in hollering yet — but the sound still nudges her gaze toward the entrance, one hand still resting near the keyboard. and then she freezes.
you walk in like it’s nothing, like it’s a tuesday, like you didn’t already spend the better half of last week annoying her with your constant hovering and lazy excuses. you’re dressed in a black hoodie this time, hair still messily pulled back like you only half tried, a bag slung over one shoulder. but it’s not just you. walking in behind you, a beat slower, are danielle and haerin.
danielle grins the moment she sees minji, a wide, familiar, too-happy smile. she lifts a hand like she’s waving across the room in a school hallway. haerin just nods, quiet as always, but her eyes flick across the room like she’s already mapping out where she wants to sit. minji’s still trying to process the fact that the three of you just entered her family's café together like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“yo,” you say casually, stopping in front of the counter. “three stations.”
minji’s eyes flick to danielle, then to you. “you didn’t say dani was the friend.”
you raise a brow. “you didn’t ask.”
danielle steps forward with a light giggle, slipping a few bills across the counter. “i told her to bring me here. been ages since i last passed by. your mom gave me candy the last time, remember?”
minji remembers. barely. dani had been a middle schooler then, all bangs and braces. now she’s taller, louder, and somehow even more chaotic. haerin’s already halfway to the far aisle without a word.
minji doesn’t respond right away, just keys in the payment, trying to act unbothered. still, something shifts in her posture — her back a little straighter, tone a little cooler. it’s not that she minds seeing dani again. or haerin. but there’s something about seeing you with them. like you belong with them. like you have your own world outside the counter she hides behind.
she pushes the receipt toward you without looking directly at your face. “you know your usual seat’s taken.”
you shrug. “doesn’t matter.”
you lead them to the row near minji's desk, danielle plopping down beside you, haerin sliding into the edge seat with her usual silence. minji watches from the counter, pretending to focus on something on-screen, but her gaze keeps flickering up every few seconds. you’re laughing at something. you lean sideways to whisper something to dani. she shoves your shoulder playfully.
the faint buzz of voices carries over, not loud enough to disrupt the other customers, but enough to fill the space. it’s not annoying. not yet. but it’s... warm. more than usual. maybe too much.
half an hour in, just when she’s starting to settle back into routine, her mom calls from the back. a delivery came early — snacks they were supposed to restock tomorrow. someone needs to help unload. there’s no one else at the counter. no one she trusts with the till. no one she can afford to leave alone with the computers.
she glances across the café. most kids are locked in, headphones on, eyes glazed over from long hours of minecraft or league or whatever’s trending again. danielle’s now half-asleep in her chair. haerin’s watching a cooking vlog on mute.
and you. you’re fidgeting with a packet of chips and occasionally nudging dani awake.
minji exhales through her nose and stands.
she approaches quietly, her steps soft against the tiled floor, and you only notice her when she stops right next to your chair.
“hey,” she says, like it’s nothing. “need a favor.”
you look up, one brow raised, a smirk already threatening to creep onto your lips. “you asking me for help? that’s new.”
she rolls her eyes, but there’s no real bite to it. “just for a few minutes. someone needs to stay at the desk. no one else.”
you blink. “you sure you wanna leave your sacred kingdom in my hands?”
“no,” she says flatly. “but you’re the only one i can yell at later.”
danielle hums sleepily, not quite paying attention, and haerin doesn’t react at all.
you stand, stretch your arms a little too dramatically, then flash a lazy salute. “yes, boss.”
minji ignores the way her pulse stutters for a second.
you follow her back toward the counter, and for the first time since you walked in, minji feels the space between you settle into something different — not tense, not loud, but steady. your shoulder brushes hers briefly when you round the desk, and she steps aside without a word, letting you slide into her chair.
she gives you a few quick instructions. what not to touch. which drawer not to open. how to stall if someone actually comes to pay.
you listen, nodding with surprising seriousness.
and then, just before she turns to leave, you say it, barely above a whisper, “don’t worry. i’ll protect your empire.”
she doesn’t say anything. just rolls her eyes again and walks off.
but later, when she’s unloading boxes with her mom and hears the faint sound of your voice echoing from the front — low, teasing, something about snack prices being robbery — she smiles.
and she doesn’t even try to stop herself.
you don’t exactly behave — you never do — but you stay in the chair, you don’t press the wrong keys, you don’t let anyone slip by without logging their time, and most importantly, you don’t let anyone touch the register. minji returns after about fifteen minutes to find you propped up on one elbow, half-watching a tutorial on keyboard mods while simultaneously teasing a nearby middle schooler about their username.
she doesn’t say anything. just taps the side of the chair with her knuckles as if to say, get out, and you wordlessly stand, arms raised like a magician finishing a trick. “no customers died,” you announce. “zero casualties.”
“miraculous,” she deadpans.
you hover for a bit after that. return to your seat eventually, start another game. danielle’s more awake now and has migrated to the seat next to haerin, their conversation a quiet buzz of food cravings and someone’s cousin’s birthday party. you’re still the loudest among the three, but you’ve toned it down since earlier. and minji, from the counter, finds herself not minding as much.
the sky starts shifting outside — not quite sunset yet, but dim enough that the inside lights start to take over. golden hour creeps in through the window, dust catching the light like shimmer, and the usual after-dinner crowd starts to trickle in.
no big scene. no dramatic turning of the sign or last-minute rush. the regulars shuffle out in twos and threes, dragging the scent of instant noodles and warmed plastic with them, the soft ding of the doorbell barely registering anymore in minji’s ears. she lets the last customer know they’re shutting in ten, starts the routine while they’re still clicking away at their game — wiping down keyboards, unplugging the machines in aisle three, gathering the snack wrappers and half-empty water bottles left behind like breadcrumbs. the floor’s a mess, as usual. she’ll sweep it later.
danielle’s long gone. texted her an hour ago about dinner plans. haerin too, though minji didn’t even realize she’d left until you said, “they had to go,” in that vague, unbothered way of yours, like the idea of people coming and going never really affects you. you stayed longer than the others. not unusual. but this time, you didn’t say goodbye. just slipped out with the hoodie half-over your head, a bag of shrimp chips dangling from your fingers, muttering something about beating your high score tomorrow.
minji hadn’t looked up from the register then. she only notices now, in the dim hush after, that your seat is still slightly pushed back. not aligned with the rest.
she fixes it automatically. presses it back in. goes to wipe the mousepad — and pauses.
there’s something under the keyboard.
thin. folded. a slip of paper, crumpled slightly at the edges like it’s been in someone’s pocket all day. she pulls it out with two fingers, cautious. opens it.
it’s a receipt. yours. from earlier.
2 HOURS — ₩2,000.00
SNACK (SHIN BLACK) — ₩1,000.00
CASH RECEIVED — ₩5,000.00
CHANGE — ₩2,000.00
thank you :D
minji almost laughs. you must’ve written that smiley face. the handwriting’s awful — lopsided and uneven, pen barely pressing hard enough to leave a mark — and the ink’s smudged where it hit the moisture from your drink. she stares at it for a second longer than she should.
just a receipt. not a love note. not a secret message. just a piece of thermal paper with a doodled smile and a little wave drawn at the corner. but still, her fingers fold it again, slower this time, and instead of tossing it in the trash bin by the counter, she slides it into the back pocket of her notebook, between pages filled with headset complaints and machine restarts.
she doesn’t think about why.
the lights go off aisle by aisle. the door clicks shut behind her.
the café is unusually full for a thursday.
minji doesn’t comment on it, but she notices. she always does. notices how the rhythm changes — more clicking, more rustling of snack wrappers, more bodies pressed into the machines and cracked vinyl seats. she’s behind the counter as usual, logging rentals, wiping the same spot on the desk when she gets bored, trying not to be too obvious about the way she glances toward the back corner every now and then.
your usual spot is taken today — some kid from second year with his entire DOTA stack yelling about cooldowns — so you’re one row over, closer than usual. she hadn’t even seen you come in. just looked up at some point and there you were, half-zipped hoodie, drink sweating on the table, your left hand bracing your cheek while the other tapped lazily at the mouse.
you’ve been here for almost an hour. maybe longer.
and now you’re waving at her.
she pretends not to see it at first. just turns a page in the logbook, slow. calculated. and then you wave again, a little higher this time, like you’re trying to flag down a jeep.
she sighs through her nose and walks over.
“what.”
“headset’s busted.”
“plugged in right?”
“yes, mom.”
she gives you a look, bends down anyway. the headset jack is crooked, barely clinging to the port. she twists it slightly, pushes it in until it clicks. you both hear the dull hum of audio kicking in, the faint rumble of game sounds echoing through the cups. your eyes light up like she’s just handed you a miracle.
“fixed it,” you say, not even hiding the smugness.
minji straightens. “i fixed it.”
“yeah, but it’s my station, so i get the credit.”
she stares. long. unimpressed.
you grin up at her.
it’s stupid. dumb, really. she knows it shouldn’t feel like anything. but for some reason, standing this close — the glow of the monitor reflecting off your face, the warm-cold smell of buttered chips and citrus soda hanging in the air — it does. feel like something.
you tilt your head a little. “so… no charge for tech support, right?”
she exhales slowly. “i’ll add it to your tab.”
“ah. capitalism.”
minji’s about to walk away when she catches the screen behind you — a loading menu, not the game you usually play. she pauses. squints.
“…is that genshin?”
you shrug. “trying something new.”
“since when?”
“since dani said she pulled some five-star girl with antlers and rubbed it in my face.”
minji shakes her head, amused despite herself. “you’re so petty.”
“it’s called motivation.”
you shift in your seat, fingers tapping the mouse again, letting the music loop through the speakers now that it’s working. your foot bounces lightly under the desk.
she doesn’t leave right away.
instead, she rests a hand on the top of the monitor, leans just slightly over your shoulder. “you know you’re not even playing yet, right? you’re still in the tutorial.”
“whatever. i’m warming up.”
“you’ve been on this screen for ten minutes.”
“observation is part of strategy.”
minji rolls her eyes. “you sound like a guidance counselor.”
you laugh, soft and quick, and it slips under her skin in a way she doesn’t expect. she doesn’t have anything else to say. no excuse to keep standing there. and yet, she doesn’t move.
you glance up again, not directly at her, but just enough. the look says: you can stay, if you want.
and maybe she does.
maybe she’s just tired.
maybe it’s just easier not to pretend like this is still just about the rules.
door, weak as ever but just loud enough to catch your ear.
you don’t look up. not right away.
it only takes a second before a familiar presence slides into the seat beside you, the chair’s wheels creaking slightly under the shift of weight. there’s a rustle of a paper bag being dropped onto the desk, followed by a sigh — soft, flat, unmistakably haerin.
“i brought the chips,” she says, like it’s an obligation.
you glance sideways. “you’re an angel.”
she opens the bag, fishes one out, and eats it without offering. her eyes flicker over your screen — genshin, still paused, still in tutorial. then to your other tab. league, already queued. and then she turns her head, slow, eyebrows drawing slightly.
“…you’re gonna play that.”
“mhm.”
“i thought you were retired.”
“only from ranked,” you say, reaching over to drag a chair closer to her side. “c’mon. just one game.”
haerin doesn’t move.
you give her your best pleading face — the one that got you her last onigiri last week, the one you know is slowly wearing her down. you nudge the second mouse toward her, the headset, the cold drink you bought just in case she showed up.
“you already set this up,” she says, flat.
“no i didn’t.”
you absolutely did.
she exhales again, like she’s regretting her life choices, but her hand moves anyway. slowly. resignedly. she puts the headset on, lets it hang around her neck.
“one game.”
“swear.”
she logs in. queues up with you. and for a minute, the familiar noise returns — clicks and loading screens, quick banter, champion picks flying by.
you’re deep into the second turret when it happens.
“haerin, tower,” you say, voice calm but insistent. “ignore them. you can get the tower.”
but she’s already darted after the enemy midlaner, too focused to register what you said. two seconds later, a stun lands. her character collapses with a dramatic burst of color.
you suck your teeth. “haerin, I told you—”
and then she yells.
“Y/N SHUT THE FUCK UP BEFORE I SLIT YOUR THROAT AND DUMP YOUR DEAD BODY IN AN ALLEWAY FOR THE STRAY CATS TO EAT—”
the café doesn’t fall completely silent, but the shout turns a few heads — mostly kids from your year, a couple of Minji’s regulars flinches a little. haerin is frozen mid-tilt, eyes wide, lips parted, like she wasn’t expecting that to come out.
you stare at her.
then she blinks. shrugs once.
“…that felt good actually.”
you snort. didn’t even try to hide the smile spreading across your face. “i know right?”
you’re still laughing when haerin slaps your wrist, a light, annoyed sort of tap, like you’re the one who embarrassed her.
you press your lips together to stop another chuckle, but it’s too late — the mood has shifted. she’s pretending to focus on respawn timers now, clicking around with newfound aggression, but you can see the corner of her mouth twitching like she’s fighting a grin.
you lean back in your chair, stretching your arms up with a quiet yawn, still riding the high of making her break character. your headset is half-off, one ear still exposed, and that’s when you hear it — the faint roll of a chair behind you, a soft clack of rubber wheels against tile.
you don’t need to turn around to know who it is.
minji walks by like she has a reason — clipboard in hand, brows slightly furrowed, the look of someone with a job to do. she doesn’t even glance at you at first. just slows near your aisle, pretends to check something on the end table — the cable bundles, the back of the outlet strips, whatever excuse she can reach for without making it too obvious.
but it is obvious. at least to you.
she crouches, half-balanced on the balls of her feet, fingers skimming along the edge of a cord that isn’t even tangled. you’re not looking directly at her, but you can feel the shape of her beside you — the shift of her weight, the subtle brush of her sleeve near your leg, the faint scent of detergent and whatever gum she’s chewing today.
haerin notices.
she doesn’t say anything — not yet — but she leans slightly forward, eyes darting from minji’s bent form to you, then back again. her expression stays flat, curious, faintly amused. the corner of her mouth lifts, just barely.
you pretend not to see it.
minji doesn’t say anything either. not a single word. she just adjusts the cable — one that doesn’t need adjusting — and then slowly stands up, brushing invisible dust from her jeans. her eyes flick across your screen for a second, then toward you, but the moment your gaze meets hers, she looks away. turns on her heel. walks back toward the front counter like she wasn’t just there.
you glance back at haerin.
she raises an eyebrow.
you raise one back.
neither of you say it out loud, but it sits between you like a loaded mouse click — the fact that minji could’ve checked any other part of the café, but she chose your aisle. crouched beside your chair. spent a beat too long pretending to fix something she didn’t need to.
you queue for another match like nothing happened.
haerin stretches with a dramatic groan, twisting her arms behind her back like she’s just finished running laps instead of playing League for less than an hour. “i’m getting a drink from that milkshake shop down the block,” she mutters, already slipping off the headset. “want anything?”
you shake your head, only half-paying attention as you hover over the match history screen. “i’m good.”
“don’t move,” she says, pointing at your forehead like it’s a threat. “when i get back, we’re trying aram.”
you salute, grin lazy. “yes, ma’am.”
she rolls her eyes, grabs her sling bag, and disappears out the door with the little bell chiming faintly behind her. you watch the empty screen for a moment, letting the quiet settle now that her energy’s stepped outside.
then you hear footsteps. slower this time.
you don’t turn around. just lean back slightly, waiting, sensing it — the way the air changes when she’s close. and sure enough, minji stops right next to you.
no clipboard. no cable excuses. nothing in her hands but the quiet weight of whatever she’s holding back.
you glance up at her.
she doesn’t speak immediately. just looks at your monitor for a beat too long. then at the empty chair next to you.
then at you.
“so… you and haerin, huh?”
you blink. the words don’t match the tone — too casual, too measured — but there’s something off under the surface, something sharp and glinting just beneath the deadpan delivery.
you raise an eyebrow. “what about me and haerin?”
“you came in together.”
“and?”
“you were loud.”
“we always are.”
“she yelled at you.”
“so do you.”
minji exhales, slow through her nose, like she’s trying very hard not to react, not to smirk, not to let you win this round. “i’ve never seen her talk that much before,” she says, like it’s an observation. “let alone raise her voice.”
“she was proud of it, actually,” you say, swiveling slightly in your chair so you’re facing her better. “said it felt good.”
minji’s jaw shifts.
you smile, just enough to be annoying. “why? jealous?”
“of her yelling at you?” she deadpans.
“of me playing with her.”
her silence says more than anything else.
you don’t push further. just look at her for a moment, let the implication hang. let her think about it. you’ve never seen her like this — lingering, hesitant, clearly trying to look unaffected and failing by the inch.
“i’ve known danielle for longer,” you say suddenly, like it’s unrelated. “we’re not close-close, but… i’ve been around. it’s not weird that i know haerin too.”
“i didn’t say it was weird.”
you look at her. “but you were wondering.”
she doesn’t deny it.
you watch her glance down the hallway, toward the door. haerin’s still out. no one else around. dead hour again, just like yesterday.
you tap the edge of your mouse. “you can sit, you know.”
minji blinks. “i’m working.”
“you’re standing here.”
“i’m—” she stops. reconsiders. “—checking.”
you lean back with a grin. “on me?”
she turns to walk away.
you laugh. “jealous.”
she doesn’t answer, but her ears are pink.
later in the afternoon, the café’s busier than usual. not packed, but active — the hum of machines, keys clacking, some kid snorting at a meme two rows over. you’re back in your usual spot by the window. minji knows because she looked up the moment the door opened. she didn’t mean to — it’s reflex by now. and the moment she sees the familiar edge of your school jacket, she sighs under her breath.
except you’re not alone.
you walk in first, slouched and half-dragging your feet like it’s been a long day, and right behind you is haerin, earbuds still in, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands.
minji stiffens.
you’re laughing at something she’s saying. or maybe it’s the other way around. either way, you look comfortable. like it’s normal.
and for some reason, that gets under her skin more than she wants to admit.
she doesn’t show it though. doesn’t say anything when you pass the desk. just flicks her gaze over to acknowledge your presence. maybe a little colder than usual.
you don’t notice. or pretend not to.
you and haerin settle in the same corner again. same setup. this time, there’s less chaos — no yelling — but the two of you sit close. you lean over to her screen a few times. she nudges your shoulder once. laughs once. it’s small, but minji sees it all.
after an hour, haerin gets up to go to the restroom, and that’s when minji moves.
she walks over — casually, like she’s doing a round — and stops just a step behind your chair.
“you really like bringing people here, huh?”
you pause, turn a little. “that a problem?”
minji shrugs, arms crossed now. “depends on the person.”
you blink. and then it clicks. “you don’t like haerin?”
“i didn’t say that.”
“but you think something’s going on.”
“do i?”
you tilt your head, leaning forward a little so she has to look at you directly. “why don’t you just ask what you want to ask?”
she holds your gaze for a second longer than she should. then: “are you seeing her?”
you don’t answer immediately. not because you’re stalling, but because you’re thinking — because this might be the only moment where this whole thing finally flips.
so you smile, slow. “no. we’re friends.”
“just friends?”
“i can say the same about us.”
minji breathes in like she’s about to say something. but it comes out differently.
“then go out with me.”
you blink. not because you didn’t see it coming, but because she actually said it.
“what?”
“a date. saturday. i’m off.”
you grin. lean back in your seat. “is this you marking your territory?”
“maybe,” she says, deadpan. “you gonna say yes or not?”
you shrug, just to mess with her a bit longer. “what if i already have plans?”
“cancel them.”
you laugh, soft and low. “fine. but only if you don’t wear that weird striped jacket again.”
“that jacket’s cool.”
“you’re delusional.”
minji smirks. “see you saturday.”
and just like that, she turns and walks back to the desk, looking a little too smug.
you’re still smiling when haerin comes back.
it doesn’t happen all at once.
they fall into rhythm slowly — first out of habit, then something more. minji gets used to hearing your voice echo faintly through the café during slow afternoons. you get used to the way she says your name only when no one else is around. you don’t talk about it. it just becomes a thing — the way you show up even when you say you won’t. the way she lets you stay even when she says she shouldn’t.
some days you come alone. other times you’re with haerin or danielle, but your eyes always flick toward the counter first, as if checking if she’s there before anything else. sometimes, minji pretends she doesn’t notice. other times, she looks back.
you bring her food now — small things. coffee. tteokbokki in a shared cup. half a sandwich. she never asks, but you still wait to see if she takes the first bite. she always does.
there are days she joins you after her shift, pulling up a chair without a word, sitting next to you as you scroll through games or laugh at dumb videos. you don’t talk much. you don’t need to. her presence fills the space beside you in a way that feels unspoken but mutual — like a language you both understand without translating.
the bookstore becomes another regular stop. sometimes before the café. sometimes after. she’ll hold your bag while you crouch down to look through the bottom shelf. you’ll hold her jacket while she flips through a graphic novel. you don’t say the word “date.” but it lingers somewhere between the pages and the pauses.
on one especially warm sunday, you catch her staring across the café — not at the customers, not at the monitor — but at you. you’re tying your hair up without thinking, and she looks away too late. that’s the first time you let the silence stretch just a little longer than necessary, both of you feeling it now — the shift. something inching forward.
it happens after closing one night.
the café is almost closed.
the hum of the computers has dwindled to one or two still logged in. your booth is tucked in the far corner, monitor black, headphones looped over the hook, untouched for the past twenty minutes. you’re still here, hoodie half-zipped, arms folded on the desk as you rest your chin on them. your phone's screen is dark. there’s nothing left to check.
you’re not waiting for a game to finish or for your friends to come back. you’re waiting for her.
she’s been wiping down the keyboards in her usual slow, meticulous way. not really trying to speed things up. not trying to move you along. just going through the motions, eyes flicking toward your booth every now and then. she thinks you don’t notice.
but of course you do.
minji walks over once she’s finished the last row. pulls out the seat across from you and sits. no teasing. no glare. just the soft creak of the chair and her presence in front of you like it’s been building to this all along.
“you’ve been quiet,” she says gently.
“you’ve been busy,” you say back, half-smiling.
minji doesn’t smile, not this time. not yet. her eyes are steady on yours.
and then she says it, just like that—
“i like you.”
you blink. your breath catches for a second, not because you didn’t think it would ever happen, but because of how calmly it leaves her mouth. like she’s already gone over it in her head a dozen times. like she meant to say it today and didn’t let herself back down.
you open your mouth, but nothing comes out.
she leans forward slightly, elbows on the table, fingers loosely clasped in front of her.
“i figured it out a while ago,” she continues, quieter now. “when you stopped coming just to play. when you started lingering near the desk even if i was ignoring you. when you learned the days i was off and didn’t come at all.”
you let out a breath, equal parts sheepish and fond.
“you noticed that?”
“of course i did.” she tilts her head slightly. “i notice everything when it comes to you.”
your heart trips over itself.
she doesn’t look away.
“but i wanted to make sure. that it wasn’t just you being friendly. that i wasn’t misreading everything.”
“you weren’t,” you say quickly.
and suddenly, it’s easier to say more.
“i liked you way before i even knew what that meant for me. it started with your eye rolls. and then your playlists. and how you pretended to hate it when we were loud but never really kicked us out.”
a soft laugh escapes her lips.
“and then it was the way you looked at me when you thought no one was watching,” you continue, quieter now. “and how different that was from the version you show everyone else.”
minji’s lips part just slightly, but she doesn’t say anything. you think maybe she doesn’t have to.
you’re not touching yet — not quite — but your hands are close on the table now. close enough that your pinkies could reach if they just leaned a little. close enough that the space between you feels charged.
you exhale.
“so… what do we do now?” you ask, voice lighter than you expected.
minji glances down at your hands. then back at you.
“be my girlfriend?”
you nod rapidly, and it’s enough. the weight in your chest feels softer, like it’s finally been set down.
she doesn’t kiss you yet.
instead, she lifts her hand and reaches for your cheek — fingers feather-light, just brushing the edge of your jaw. it’s so gentle, so careful, like she’s still trying to understand how you can be real. you lean into her touch without thinking.
your eyes meet. linger.
then, slowly, you lean in — and so does she — and when your lips meet, it’s not rushed or dramatic or perfect. it’s soft and sure and entirely new. the kind of kiss that comes after months of circling, when both of you finally land in the same place.
you pull away first, just enough to breathe. her forehead rests lightly against yours.
“we’re gonna be a mess,” you whisper, smiling.
she grins against your skin. “you already are.”
you don’t expect to see her there.
it’s past 2 p.m., your first class just let out, and you’re halfway through untying your hair when someone clears their throat beside the door. you glance up, hair still tangled in your fingers — and there she is, leaning against the wall outside your classroom like she belongs there.
minji.
in her free hand is a paper bag and a large iced coffee. the drink’s got your usual order scribbled in quick black marker, name spelled wrong in the exact same way she always used to type it when you were nothing but a regular at the café.
you blink. “what are you—?”
she holds the drink out like it’s a peace offering. or a trophy.
“i was in the area.”
“you live in the opposite direction,” you deadpanned. “and you are in the morning class.”
“so?”
your classmates begin filing out behind you, a few of them glancing curiously between the two of you. minji doesn’t even flinch. if anything, her eyes soften when she sees the way you bite back a grin and take the drink anyway.
“you didn’t have to come all the way here just to—”
“i wanted to.”
again, said so simply. like she hasn’t already changed your whole life by showing up.
she doesn’t stay long. just long enough to hand you the coffee, press the paper bag into your other hand, and gently brush your wrist when you whisper thank you. there’s a smile tucked at the corner of her mouth as she leaves, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to your insides.
danielle shows up during a lull, slipping behind the front desk like she always does, stealing one of minji’s snacks without asking. minji barely looks up from the monitor—she's used to it by now—but danielle still elbows her lightly, grin too wide to mean anything good.
“you’re so whipped it’s embarrassing,” she says, already unwrapping the chocolate bar she didn’t pay for.
minji exhales through her nose. “and you’re annoying.”
“but not wrong.” danielle leans against the counter, watching her like she’s waiting for a stronger reaction. “you don’t even pretend anymore. i say y/n and you perk up like a dog hearing a treat bag.”
minji doesn’t respond, but her ears betray her. danielle catches the flush instantly.
“you brought her lunch last week.”
“she forgot hers.”
“you made her tea. during a ranked game.”
“she was cold.”
“you gave her your chair.”
“hers squeaks.”
danielle just laughs. “wow. you’ve got excuses for days.”
minji finally looks up, slow and unimpressed. “what do you want, dani.”
“nothing,” she sings, leaning her elbows onto the desk. “just checking in. seeing how long it’ll take before you actually kiss her in front of all of us.”
minji doesn't answer. she doesn’t have to. the small twitch at the corner of her mouth is enough for danielle to hoot in joy.
“so it’s that serious, huh?”
minji shrugs, but there’s no real denial in it. “she’s not just anyone.”
danielle softens then, her teasing fading just slightly into something warm. “i know,” she says, quieter now. “she really isn’t.”
and when the door opens a few minutes later—bell ringing, light catching in your hair, your gaze scanning for minji before it even settles anywhere else—danielle catches the way minji straightens in her seat, how her entire face shifts without her even realizing.
“just remember, if you mess this up, i’m taking her side.”
“you’ve already taken her side.”
“exactly.” danielle smirks, bites into the stolen chocolate, and leaves the two of you to it.
“You too!” You blurted out, right before realizing you'd gotten your words mixed up, “Wait- I meant to say you look pretty, but... I guess I mean both? Gosh, does that even make sense?”
A tiny smile spread across Minji's features at your adorable timidness, her boot-clad feet taking a few steps towards you before pulling you close, gracing your frame with a tender hug, “It makes perfect sense, weirdo… thanks...”
Her voice was calm and soothing as usual, despite the way it made butterflies swarm in the spot where your heart should be. You couldn't really explain it, but something about Minji's energy always had a way of making you look and feel like a lovesick geek by time you got a proper sentence out—
“So,” she began again, breaking from the embrace and looking you straight in the eye, her hands resting at your shoulders, “when were you gonna tell me about this little crush you have on me?”
Your eyes widened like you had seen a ghost, a nervous chuckle slipping past your lips as she tilted her head at you, just as you muttered a distracting, “Right after I told you which Victoria's Secret fragrance I'm wearing?”
𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐌 ── ❝ Crystals? As a gesture?... ❞
“Pfft, of course!” Hanni replied matter-of-factly, “just like how you gave me coins for that gum-ball machine we passed earlier… but who's keeping track of all that stuff anyways?”
“You, apparently...,” you said as a gentle laugh escaped your lips at her quirky reply, “but touché, Hanni Pham... what should I do with these?”
“Hmmm,” she hummed, cupping your right palm in her own as the colorful stones glittered beneath the mall’s sunroof, “you can put them under your pillow at night!... o-or maybe even stash them in your purse so you can think about me wherever you go!”
“As if I'd need a crystal’s assistant with that,” you teased, ruffling her hair slightly with your free hand. “These are cool, though,” you went on, heart warming at both the feeling of your hand in hers and at the unique gift, “very sweet of you...”
“Eh, I tryyyy,” she replied smugly, right before blowing a tiny pink bubble with the gum she chewed, only to spit the leftover candy into a napkin and ask, “wanna close your eyes and guess what flavor you taste on me?...”
𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐇 ── ❝ I like your sweater… ❞
“Oh, this old thing?” Danielle asked with her warm Australian accent, taking the colorful sweater’s hem in her fingers to examine it's loose threads, “My nana knit this for me like... forever ago...”
“Well it's cool to see she was a step ahead of fashion trends back then,” you smiled, letting your hand brush over the soft yarn of her sleeve... That's when a certain question arose in your head:
“Random, but by chance, are you any good with using chopsticks?” You asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.
“Oh, for sure! I’m basically a pro at it,” she boasted, flipping her curly locks in a cartoonish manner.
“Sweet! I have two coupons for two different places. One for a craft store, and another for a sushi bar… only thing is that they both expire tomorrow,” You went on, hoping that she'd catch your drift without you having to state any specifics...
“Oh? Well it'd be a total bummer to let them go to waste,” she shrugged, hooking her arm in yours before tugging you along with her, “we better get going quick before they run out of sashimi… or yellow yarn…”
𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 ── ❝ Can I come in please...? ❞
You heard a gentle voice call from behind your bedroom door, face buried into the largest pillow you could find given the sob-fest you had earlier…
“The door’s unlocked,” you sniffled, turning over on your bed to face her as she peaked from behind the door, her bright smile not even fading at the sight of you.
“I brought some heartwarming treats and DVD’s!” She began, voice just as pleasant as it always was. Haerin made her way to sit beside you on the bed, opening one of your favorite candy bars and handing it to you.
“How’d y’know I was upset?” You asked before taking a bite of the candy, chuckling a bit at the way she watched you so intently while doing so.
“I didn’t,” she went on plainly, “… I already wanted to surprise you today and just got lucky that it ended up being at a time where you needed it most…”
“Awww,” you pouted, dropping the candy bar to pull her into a hug, “you’re literally the best friend I could ask for, Haerin… thank you for coming to see me…”
“Of course,” she whispered, mind lingering on the word friend for a moment, even though she was certain you meant something a little more than that…
“So,” she began again, breaking from the contact and reaching for the TV remote, “Wanna rewatch Mean Girls or Clueless first?”
𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐘𝐄𝐈𝐍 ── ❝ Can I touch your hair? ❞
You asked the question for one reason: You were bored out of your mind from waiting at the bus stop, and playing with Hyein’s hair seemed like a fun way to pass the time…
“Oh, sure!” She chirped, immediately straightening her posture on the park bench as you scooted closer to where she sat, taking her wavy locks into your grasp.
Hyein’s round eyes wandered to the sparkly pink Juicy Couture purse you wore over your shoulder, compelling her to ask, “What’s in the bag?”
“Oh- just some barrette’s and hair clips I got from Claire’s yesterday,” you replied, pausing to click open your purse and show her the different kinds, “Thought you might be interested in some extra bling, so…”
“You know me far too well then, ____,” she smiled, scanning each package with her eyes before suggesting that you decide which hair-clip style she would wear, and vice versa.
You let out a simple “Okay” at her offer, reaching for the pack of silver shooting stars for her hair while she held the pack of butterfly clips beside your face, a satisfied look spreading across her features.
“These are gonna look gorgeous on you,” Hyein smiled, right before opening the pack of butterflies clips and popping a few different colored ones in her palm, “This is too fun already, hehe… I can decorate your hair first, right?…”
ʚ 𝐀𝒰𝐓ᕼ𝕆𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝕆T𝐸: I decided to explore the wlw genre for a change, and I have no one other than @jwanniie to thank for inspiring me to experiment on my platform in such a way through her works... I've always wanted to write for my fav GG's just like how I write for my fav BG's, but simply never found the courage to until now ~ Hopefully you guys enjoyed what I came up with! ɞ
❖ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 💌 ) @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr -> if GG content isn’t your thing, pls lmk and I’ll refrain from tagging you in such posts moving forward :3
amongst minji’s rowdy life, there was someone whom she couldn’t help but be heavily intrigued by.
Fluff, quiet x popular (?), first attempt at writing a one-shot 😛
Amidst the bustling hallways minji could still spot a familiar pair of eyes standing just by their locker with her gaze focused on something.
There was something about the girl that had always gave minji this intrigued feelings. And no it was just about looks of course she had good looks too but it her quiet and shy demeanor. The girl wasn’t one those type of people to demand attention by being unnecessarily loud.
She captured most people’s hearts in her own way.
Minji took notice of the girls usual reserved nature. She hardly spoke in class mostly exchanging one to two words with others, in her zone her mind always seemed to drift off to something.
There was something mind found cute about the way Yn would shyly blush or smile whenever she receives a compliment or get called out by the teacher.
Her nervous smile would plaster across her face while her eyes drifted around the classroom.
Minji had always been one with the crowd since she was young. Always gaining attention and popularity wherever she was. So she found it quite refreshing to experience something new.
One fateful day, the home room teacher had paired both minji and Yn to make the classroom as spotless as possible not caring a bit on how they were going to do it.
The silence thickening in the air was awkward at first well maybe for minji and not for YN. It was something that best described her so she was probably used to it by now.
But it gave an awkward tension for minji. She thought that this might be her chance to engage herself in a conversation with her. “Uhh YN what do you mostly do during your free time?”
“Sleeping”
A frown formed on minji’s lips at the girls brief response. She was definitely expecting more. She thought of giving it another try. “Do you enjoy cleaning?” She nervously bit her lips. That would probably get a yes or no answer.
YN’s gaze flickered over to minji for a brief second “Hmmm….meh. I do it when I’m mostly bored or it’s an order given by my mom. But it’s mostly fun with your ears plugged in” YN explained her eyes staring at the ceiling while she’s day dreamed for a bit before returning to the given task.
“Ah I see” minji nodded in agreement. The unbearable silence returned back.
As the cleaning continued minji made it her mission to engage Yn in a few if not many conversations. Asking her questions about herself but nothing too personal. She didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.
The more closer they became during the period. Minji noticed a side of YN she had never seen. Her response were more longer and animated. A smile constantly popping up on her face when she was yapping her whole heart out.
“Wow I didn’t know you could talk this much. You’re so adorable when you’re free” minji confessed with a sly smile her tone carrying a hint of disbelief.
Yn looked up at minji with a face that said ‘really?’ Her cheeks turning to a light shade of pink. “I wouldn’t really say I’m adorable maybe you are….”
“Yes you are” minji chuckled at the girls response. Attempting to tuck a small strand of hair behind her ears.
The cleaning of the classroom some how came to an end quickly. Yn and minji had chatted away they didn’t even realize when they were done.
On minji’s walk home, her mind was filled with her previous encounter with YN. Recalling every single thing that had happened. A smile tugging the corner of her lips.
She couldn’t believe that she had finally succeeded to get to a side of YN nobody probably knows about. And most of all she couldn’t believe she got to make the girl blush. What she had been day dreaming of doing One day.
With a sigh, minji collapsed onto her bed. Her mind drifting to what could happen at school the next day. Each thoughts only added to her anticipation and eagerness.
She couldn’t resist wanting to explore more of YN. She knew Yn was more than this. Gosh was she so impatient for the next day to roll in.
synopsis; during a night stroll in tokyo that turns rainy, the two members feel like kids in love when all their worries wash away with it /content; fluff, they kiss once, 6th member reader /wc; 2.2k
In Japanese, "koi" is a homophone for 恋, another word that means "affection" or "love".
The air was heavy in the city, filling their lungs with a sort of wetness as the previous rain created humidity that felt like it was hugging their skin. Some people passed by in a hurry, some took their time, and most carried umbrellas, but something everyone had in common was the way they lived on with their lives, not minding the people around them.
It was a hot and humid summer night in Tokyo.
“Do you think we can get past everyone?” Y/n questioned, a smile tugging at her lips, there was a small jump in her steps.
Minji twisted her lips, her hand came out of the pocket of her jeans and she intertwined her fingers with Y/n’s. She let out a breath at the excitement of the younger when she pulled her closer, their shoulders brushing.
“People don’t care—” Minji hoped they didn’t, they had snuck out of their hotel to wander the streets. She could tell that Y/n was far from ready to head to bed. She’d sacrifice some sleep for her girlfriend if it made her happy, in the end, it was what made Minji happy. “I think…” She trailed off, somewhat nervous that they would get recognised amid the streets of Tokyo.
However, as they wandered through the half-busy alleys with restaurants, small shops, vending machines and whatnot, no one paid them any mind.
“I like seeing you this happy.” She always aimed to make Y/n happy, but she was aware that she wasn’t the only thing that caused happiness in the younger girl’s life. However, Minji was a base that let Y/n build her happiness so when something fell apart she had somewhere to fall. They were there for each other, supporting the other.
“I have many reasons to be this happy and I have you.” Minji chuckled at the warm words, bumping the girl with her shoulder. It made Y/n grin bigger, looking to the side at the taller girl who let go of her hand and threw her arm over her shoulders, pulling her into her warmth.
“You get so cheesy, but–” She started and looked down at Y/n whose arm wrapped around her waist, clinging onto Minji as they walked along the streets of Tokyo. The sun was down, and the only thing lighting up the way for them was the moon and the neon lights of signs and machines. “It’s you so I don’t mind.” She finished, the words didn’t make her want to recoil like when another member would say something cheesy.
Everything was sweet when it was Y/n.
Y/n had always been a child at heart and sometimes Minji wondered what she was doing in the industry. Of course, she was beyond talented and didn’t belong anywhere else than right there beside the rest of the members, right beside Minji. However, she couldn’t help but feel like there were certain things she wouldn’t be able to protect Y/n’s inner child from.
She’d try, especially to make that part of the girl happy.
Minji didn’t want Y/n to ever end up hurt.
“We finally made our Japanese debut, I’m so excited about everything.” The corner of Minji’s lip tugged into a lopsided grin and she met Y/n’s eyes. The two slowed down in their steps, the empty alleys of closed stores were still from people, only lit up by the few vending machines.
She hummed, bringing her hand up to Y/n’s face who turned to her and with a gentle almost ghost-like brush she moved away the few strands of hair that were in the way.
“I’m finally home, kind of, but you know what I mean.”
Minji pulled the girl even closer, having a smile on her lips that was filled with fondness. It made her lean in, trusting the enclosed space and leaving a small peck on Y/n's forehead.
Y/n wrapped her arms around Minji’s waist, hiding her face in the crook of the girl’s neck for the brief moment that she needed to steer her heart into a calmer pace.
The excitement and love were almost overwhelming, she was back home in Japan where she came from even if she wasn’t from Tokyo and they finally made their Japanese debut.
At the pace that she was running through everything; she had Minji right beside her and it always made things easier.
The taller girl pulled back, her arm still around Y/n’s shoulders and she looked down at the hand that found its way into the pocket of her jeans. It had become a habit to carry Y/n’s things in her pockets; the girl rarely brought a purse with her and rarely had clothes with pockets; wearing a skirt this time. She didn’t mind, it felt empty if she didn’t have to carry any extra stuff.
“I just need…” The girl trailed off, digging through the deep pocket while Minji waited. She was glad that it was just them, she didn’t mind spoiling Y/n in front of everyone, but she never got to hear the end of it from the rest.
Minji blinked, somewhat flinching at the drop of water that hit her face. It was cold, it made a chill run over her whole body and she looked up, more raindrops started to splatter her face.
“It’s starting to rain.”
She didn’t get a reply and looked at Y/n who was busy looking through her phone, but she got a gesture, making her look towards the vending machines.
Her hand fell to rest on Y/n’s lower back to guide her under the little roof of the closed store before moving over a few steps to the vending machines; one selling umbrellas.
She bought one of the see-through umbrellas, taking it out of the stand before turning to open it up. It made Minji huff, “yah,” she exclaimed in surprise when the girl jumped onto her back, their bodies colliding. Y/n’s giggle made her release a breathless chuckle as she steadied herself.
“Here you go,” she got a kiss on her cheek which made her body warm up before she was handed one of the earphones.
“Wired ones?” She complained, putting in the earphones to finish opening the umbrella as the gentle rain shower grew.
“I lost my airpods.” “Losing stuff is a very expensive hobby that you have, angel,” Minji commented while intertwining their fingers, knowing her girlfriend never failed to lose things. The rain tapped against the umbrella as they continued their walk, making it out onto a new street with people around them.
The umbrella created a separate world where it was just them, being see-through: they were just a blur. It shielded them as they only needed to know where they placed their feet, covering most of their view. It shielded them from rain and from any eyes. The music filled the comfortable silence as songs by Y/n’s favourite artists played.
Minji looked down at her girlfriend; the younger girl walked with a giddy but gentle smile, her eyes glimmered in the night with a fondness that made Minji feel love brew in the humidity.
She’d love to take a picture of Y/n this way, but she couldn’t even bring herself to take out her phone because she loved it even more when they lived right in this moment without anything in the way.
It all made every little thing wash away with the rain. All they could think about was the warmth of their fingers tangled, the way their shoulders brushed, and the sweet scent under the umbrella, all united by the rapid beating of their hearts that were tied together to love forever.
All that stress they had been under, the stress Minji had tried her best to lessen for her girlfriend; was gone and she by something as simple as a walk felt herself relax at last. It made everything feel so simple like there were no worries, reminding her of the youth in them.
In a world that was perhaps just for existing, they found a reason to exist: love.
“Maybe someday soon you and I can travel to Kōchi and you will show me your hometown.” Maybe someday soon was really sooner than later or maybe it wouldn’t be soon enough, but it was still something Minji wanted to do.
She wanted to know everything about Y/n, even see where she grew up, by how it made Y/n’s smile bigger; it would be something she’d try to arrange, somehow.
“Would you want that?” Y/n’s question was hopeful and Minji never managed to disappoint her even if not all things went as planned. It was always the thought that counted for them.
“I’d love that.”
Y/n giggled, the rain poured a tiny bit harder, creating a certain type of rush in the small crowd of people. It was one the two joined as Y/n found herself being pulled by Minji who picked up their pace, running through the rain that bounced off the umbrella that left the world outside of it nothing but a haze.
It made them feel free in Japan's most densely populated prefecture.
She never had a clue what love was aside from watching it from afar. This was more than she had imagined and Minji taught her every day that love was more than what the eye caught. It was something beyond the view of the bare eye as Y/n could feel it overflow inside her and beyond what she could simply express.
It did make her feel much more giddy and childish at heart, it made it light. Neither felt like they were two adults with a weight on their shoulders, but they could stop for a second and be the kids that they never stopped being when they became adults.
They made a turn, ignoring the way they dirtied their shoes in the puddle as nothing would get in the way of how good it felt to be like two kids in love with no worries.
With heaving breaths, they stopped and met each other’s gazes. It was a simple alley, people continued to pass by as they walked the main street; the two girls were like ghosts.
In a world where they could have it all, they didn’t want more.
“I can’t wait to see you cover Vaundy.” The girl mumbled, getting a gentle squeeze from Minji who would be making a cover of Y/n’s favourite artist.
Y/n leaned back against the wall, feeling comfortable under Minji’s affectionate gaze, gazing right back with the innocence of their pure love. The said song was slowly coming to an end after they spent it running through a crowd, puddles and rain.
Minji adjusted the umbrella and let go of Y/n’s hand, using it to brush away the stray strands of hair and trace her soft features with her fingertips.
“I can't wait to perform it for you, but I’m more excited to see you.” It seemed perfect how the song transitioned to Lemon that Y/n would cover and the older girl didn’t feel any hesitance or nervousness like she did at the start of their walk.
She lowered the umbrella the slightest; their escape, blocking them from anyone who was walking by.
Her hand cupped the girl’s rosy cheek, caressing it with her thumb as she leaned down. Y/n’s hands found their way to Minji’s shirt, clutching the soft material made of wool, tugging her closer. Her eyes looked into Minji’s, blinking them closed just as the small distance between them was closed too.
The steps and chattering of people passing by faded away with the rain that tapped against each surface it met.
It was short, but it was sweet and it somehow managed to pour out the love they couldn’t express with words. They could feel it through the softness of their lips meeting in a kiss that only made their love blossom like a flower that the rain had watered.
“I’m a little nervous,” Y/n admitted as they pulled away, letting out a coy giggle.
Minji hummed in acknowledgement while pushing the girl’s hair behind the ear before leaning back in and kissing her crown this time.
“Maybe you’re mixing it up with excitement,” she concluded and grabbed hold of Y/n’s hand again as the rain calmed down, but their hearts continued to create a storm inside of them, one that held them warm. They both felt warm on the inside with Y/n clinging onto Minji as they walked in rhythm.
“I think so ‘cause my parents will be there—Oh! You will finally get to meet them,” Minji’s body shook from how Y/n jumped, pulling onto her out of excitement and the older girl widened her eyes at the unexpected words.
“Wait what?” She questioned. “I don’t know if I'm ready for that,” Minji added while slowing down in her steps, but she got pulled right back to walking by her girlfriend who gave her a reassuring smile.
“You’ve talked to them before.”
“That was before I asked you to be my girlfriend.”
“You will just add that when you say hi.” Y/n made it sound simple and maybe love was just as simple as that because despite the little nervousness that grew in her stomach; she’d easily do these things for her girlfriend. It all resulted in a feeling of freedom and no worries.
Yn was looking at the screen when she suddenly clicked a video making an advert pop up making both Minji and Haerin shocked.
Haerin and Minji slightly screamed.
Minji immensely turned off the advert and faced towards yn.
“Yn-Ah!….i told you not to play it didn’t I?” She asked in a scolding tone.
Yn just looked at her smiling.
Haerin also joined her in smiling.
— Clip 2✰
<When yn was on a diet>
It was late at night around 10:00pm or so.The dorm was as silent as a grave yard,Everyone had gone to sleep.
Tip Toe
Minji tippy toed towards your room.She held the door handle and gently pushed the door back trying her best not to make any noises.
The maknae was peacefully asleep.
Minji looked at the sleeping maknae in awe the way she snored softly and cutely.
She had a peaceful and pouty face whenever she sleeps.
Minji adored the maknae while she sleeps for a few minutes before snapping out of her zone.
She shook yn making her turn around and look at Minji with sleepy eyes.
“Unnie do you need something?” She asked Minji in a sleepy voice.
Minji scared the back of her head nervously.
“Umm no.I just wanted to give you these snacks because you’re on a diet…” Minji said showing yn the big bunch of snacks at the back of her.
Yn’s eyes widened in surprise and excitement.
“Woah! Unnie you got this for me?!” You asked in disbelief.
Minji nodded shyly because of the way you reacted.
You didn’t waste time And hugged Minji really tight.”Thank you so much Unnie!” You mumbled between the hug.
“No problem” Minji said patting your back.
— Clip 3✰
When newjeans were filming for cookie.
It was Yn’s solo,like she was the only one on the screen.
Minji was looking at it through the monitoring board.
“This set really fits yn,so much.She looks extremely cute and beautiful in suit” minji said as she continued to adore yn from the screen.
— Clip 4✰
<ETA film making>
While the others were at the front of the camera laughing and talking with each other,Yn could be seen in the corner just watching them.
Minji noticed that yn was the only member not part of them and she didn’t want her to feel left out.
She went to the corner and sat beside yn.
“Yn-nie what’s wrong?” Minji asked yn concerned.
“Nothing…I’m just cold” Yn responded to minji.
Minji started at her before giving her a big warm hug for a few minutes.
— Clip 5✰
Newjeans were at the fashion week.
While going down the stairs yn almost slipped but she held back her balance.
She almost slipped again but minji was quick to immediately grab her hands and hold it.
Throughout minji held her hands to prevent her from falling.
Yn hugged her back and they stayed in that position for a while.
Hanni X YN [Besties]
Ship name:-HanYn [201.6M views]
-Hanni and yn act like best friends.They mostly do tik toks together,Go out together,Shopping together. And so on
-She tease yn about her height a lot.
-Sometimes hanni gets motherly instincts towards yn.
— Clip 6✰
TikTok - Make Your Day
Caption:whose idea was this? Yn’s
TikTok - Make Your Day
But with sleeping yn instead.
Caption:Ain’t she cute?
TikTok - Make Your Day
Caption:DonkDon
TikTok - Make Your Day
Caption:Yn’s sliding was smooth+the glasses on the beat😎-Hanni
— Clip 7✰
“Yn should we go shopping today?” Hanni asked Yn who looked up at her.
“Yeah I’ve been feeling in the mood to go shopping” Yn responded and Hanni grinned.
“Great! We’ll ho together” Hanni stated and yn nodded excitedly.
She loves going shopping with Hanni because most of the times Hanni uses her credit card to pay,and she loves to spoil yn and gets her whatever she wants.
— Clip 8✰
Yn was trying to reach for the pack of ramen which was on top of the cupboard not up to Yn’s height.
Hanni passed yn and yn spoke.
“Unnie could you help me get that pack of ramen?” Yn asked politely.
Hanni looked confused and looked up to see the pack of ramen.
She had an evil smirk on her face.
Yn thought maybe she was gonna help her but she was wrong.
Infact Hanni put the ramen to a higher height and walked away.
Yn scrunched her nose and pouted knowing there was no way she could reach it.
Now she had to wait for someone like minji or hyein to walk by.
— Clip 9✰
“Yn did you eat?” Hanni asked yn who was laying on the floor tired and stressed.
“No” she responded.
“You danced on an empty stomach?!” Hanni asked shocked.Yn nodded pouting.
“Follow me I’m getting you whatever you want” Hanni said grabbing her bag and credit card.
Yn stood up and followed her like a puppy following its mom.
— Clip 10✰
Newjeans were at Australia for a vaccination.
They all went out for dinner and ordered food.
Yn ordered a steak.When she was about to eat it she was told to use the knife and fork.
She didn’t know how to use it so she just held it and watched the other members.
Hanni noticed she wasn’t using it,So she helped her cut it into pieces she could swallow.
Yn smiled at Hanni and thanked her.
Danielle X YN [Close friends]
Ship name:-DanYn/Sunshinz [98.9M views]
-Danielle and yn are both the sunshine and happy pills of the group
-Cuties
-Most of the times Danielle teaches yn English.
— Clip 11✰
Danielle and yn were the ending fairies after performing super shy.
Yn made a heart with her hand for Danielle to complete.
Danielle was confused but did it anyway.Both of them smiling brightly.
After the performance Danielle saw that it was put as the ending fairy.
“Oh we were the ending fairies?” Danielle asked and yn nodded.
“I swear I didn’t know” she chuckled.
— Clip 12✰
Newjeans were doing a live in their car on their way back to the dorm.
Fans kept on asking about yn since she hasn’t said a word nor have they seen her face.
“Yn is sleeping on my shoulder” Danielle said as she was given the phone and she pointed to a sleeping yn who was cuddling with Danielle.
“Cute isn’t she?” Danielle asked.
— Clip 13✰
Danielle and yn were happily playing in the snow.
Yn lied down on the floor and made a snow angel, Danielle also doing hers next to Yn.
“Unnie! Let’s build a snow man?” Yn suggested.
Danielle jumped excitedly and nodded.
“Do you wanna build a snow man-“ the both of them sang at the same time laughing at each other.
After they built the snow man.
“This is Olaf” yn said causing Danielle to laugh really hard.
— Clip 14✰
“Unnie what’s the meaning of you are shorty” Yn asked Danielle coming into her room.
“Yn who told you that?” Danielle asked giggling.
“I saw a comment when I went live” yn responded.
“Well what they said what you’re shorty which mean you are short” Danielle translated and explained for yn.
“I’m not short” Yn mumbled.
“Yes you are” Danielle chuckled.
— Clip 15✰
<Danielle and Yn’s live>
“Do you prefer to use of fork or Spoon to eat your cake?” Danielle read out a comment in English with her Aussie accent.
“Umm I prefer fork” Danielle replied in english. Yn furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
“Fuck?” Yn asked confused.
Danielle gasped and her mouth was wide opened. “No not that word I said Fork” Danielle spoke.
“Yeah that what I said fuck” Yn stated.
“Yn what you’re saying is fuck and I’m saying fork” Danielle spoke in Korean making yn realize.
“Oh shoot I was cursing” Yn said scared that she’s going to get scolded.
Haerin X YN [Sunshine & Sunshine protector]
Ship name:-Kittyz/HaeYn [221.6M views]
-Haerin and yn both have cat eyes making the both of them the cats of the groups
-Share the same Brain cells
-Sunshine and sunshine protector
— Clip 16✰
Haerin and yn both stood up close in front of the camera side by side.
Looking like two cats were placed there. “Meow!” The both of them said at the same time unintentionally.
Causing them to laugh out loud.
“Woah that was totally unplanned!” Haerin spoke.
“Unnie we share the same brain cells” Yn said and haerin laughed harder.
— Clip 17✰
During a live both yn and haerin were focusing their attention on something else.
But as soon as minji started to talk they both raised up their head to turn to her in sync.
“Woah did you see that!” Hyein exclaimed.
“What? What? What?” Hanni asked excitedly.
“Haerin unnie and yn turned their head at the same time in sync” Hyein said showing Hanni.
“That’s so cool you two share the same brain cells” Hanni said.
The both of you then smiled at the same time making the rest of them shocked again.
— Clip 18✰
During newjeans Christmas live haerin turned from the quiet introvert to a lousy one.
She was really Hyperactive and started to play around.
She ran towards yn planning something on her mind.
Haerin tried to kiss yn but yn also tried to kiss her causing the both of them to back away immediately.
They laughed at the same time.
— Clip 19✰
Newjeans arrived at the airport on their way to the Philippines.
Yn was the first to get down.
She smiled and waved brightly to the fans making cat hearts.
At that moment she wore a pink and outfit.
As haerin came down she wore a black outfit and sunglasses as she stood behind yn.
I’m the airport haerin was seen walking around yn even holding hands with her.
Fans found it funny and cute that yn looked like the idol while haerin was like her bodyguard.
— Clip 20✰
They all stood outside for the press to take pictures of them.
Yn jumped happily and made a star by jumping.
Haerin whispered something to Yn’s ear to which she nodded.
“Be careful,so you don’t fall” Haerin whispered into Yn’s ear.
Hyein X YN [Sisters]
Ship name:-Maknaez/HyeYn [255.6M views]
-Hyein and yn are both the maknae (youngest of the group) but Hyein is a year older.
-Hyein always support yn in everything she does.
-Lowkey Yn’s mom.
— Clip 21✰
“Oh shoot minji unnie is gonna scold us because of this” Hyein said panicking because they almost burnt the dorm.
“Ah don’t worry about that we can deceive her with our faces” yn stated smirking.
Hyein was confused. “How? By just staring at her?” Hyein was extremely confused.
“No..Look when she comes and she questions us just follow whatever I do okay?” Yn instructed.
“Okay I guess” Hyein replied.
Later
“Minji unnie we’re sorry” Yn said giving Minji puppy eyes and pouting.
Making her look like an actual baby.
“Yeah well never do it again” Hyein copied yn.
Minji stuttered as she tried to scold them. “God you’re both just so cute,I can’t tell at you” she mumbled.
“Just don’t do it again” she added sighing in defeat.
“We won’t!” They both said them smiling cheekily
— Clip 22✰
At an award show after newjeans had won their award yn was the one singing the encore.
She was singing ditto.
She blessed fans with her live and suiting vocals.
“Woah I got goosebumps as yn is singing” Hyein showed Danielle who laughed.
“Maybe it’s because she’s singing live” haerin giggled.
— Clip 23✰
Yn and Hyein were filming a vlog.
In the video the both of them were in the bathroom.
Dancing their cute dances in front of the mirror.
— Clip 24✰
“Can I marry yn?” Hyein read out the comment and her eyebrows furrowed.
“What kind of question is this….Of course” Hyein said. “NOT” she added smiling.
“Yn is a baby not ready for marriage” she stated.
— Clip 25✰
Hyein was doing a live alone when yn walked in but her body was not in the frame.
“Yn what’s wrong?” Hyein asked confused because of the facial expressions of the maknae.
“You’re hungry?” She asked.
“Wait you didn’t eat dinner right?” Hyein asked yn.
“I’ll order food what do you want?” Hyein asked yn already opening her phone.
