Yoojung felt a poke on her upper arm, startling her out of her reverie and snapping her back to her much less exciting reality. Turning her head, she saw the girl sitting behind her seatmate looking at her.

“Do you have paper?” asked Doyeon, still holding up the ruler she poked Yoojung with. The smaller girl opened her binder only to find out that she was on her last sheet of lined paper. Sighing, she unclipped the rings of her binder and handed Doyeon the paper, who then gave her a hushed thanks and a gracious smile in return. Yoojung dove back into her daydreams.

That was eight days ago. Yoojung has since refilled her binder with new paper.

. . . . .

A familiar whisper prompted Yoojung to turn around again. “Hey!”

The corner of Doyeon’s lips turned up as Yoojung glared at her. “Can I have some lead?”

While paper was okay, lead was next level. This time, Yoojung was more hesitant; she didn’t like giving her pencil lead to other people, especially to classmates she barely interacted with. Nevertheless, she went ahead and asked Doyeon anyways, “What size?”

“0.7,” answered Doyeon. Yoojung opened her lead refill and noticed it was already half empty. After quickly convincing herself that she shouldn’t lie by telling Doyeon that she had no more lead left, Yoojung took out a few pieces and handed them to the taller girl. Like the previous day, Doyeon’s response was the same: a hushed thanks and a gracious smile.

Yoojung wasn’t usually the observant type and would just shrug when someone thanked her for sharing, but Doyeon’s replies felt different and if it weren’t for her bashful nature, Yoojung would give her a sheepish smile in return.

Later that period, Yoojung turned around briefly to hand the girls behind her the worksheets that were being passed out. She glanced at Doyeon to feed her curiosity and caught sight of the taller girl spinning a pencil in her fingers. A wooden pencil. Turning back to face the front, Yoojung furrowed her eyebrows and huffed.

That was seven days ago. Why did Doyeon ask her for lead when she didn’t even use a mechanical pencil?

. . . . .

Yoojung murmured and rolled her eyes to herself when she heard that same voice calling her name again.

“Can I borrow a pencil?” asked Doyeon, leaning over her desk so she could be closer to Yoojung, allowing her to whisper more quietly. The smaller girl narrowed her eyes at her, but Doyeon’s wholesome countenance remained.

“What happened to yours?” was what Yoojung wanted to ask, but she couldn’t pull the words out of when Doyeon was looking at her like she was about to deliver the best news Doyeon has ever heard.

However, a sigh did manage to escape Yoojung’s lips as she fidgeted with the mechanical pencil in her small hands.

Key word: borrow. Keeping that in mind, Yoojung handed over her beloved red mechanical pencil and Doyeon, once again, received it with a thanks and a smile. This time though, the thank you was a little less hushed and the smile was a little more gracious- but Yoojung had turned back around a little more quickly, missing Doyeon’s upgraded response.

The smaller girl leaned back on her seat and crossed her arms. It was already too late to take back her offer and she hoped she wouldn't regret it.

That was six days ago. Yoojung wonders if she’ll ever get her pencil back.

. . . . .

Yoojung has been deprived of her favourite red mechanical pencil for six days. She keeps her gaze at the clock above the blackboard, pondering about the recent events involving a particular taller girl when, speak of the devil, Doyeon enters the empty classroom and interrupts Yoojung’s train of thoughts. She is alone and Yoojung finds it strange that she arrived without her entourage of friends (more like disciples, like she was the next Jesus).

And much like Jesus, Doyeon stands at the doorway with the sun behind her head like some halo looking at Yoojung. Yoojung turns around to glance behind her just to make sure that it’s actually her that Doyeon is staring at and she becomes aware of the fact that they are the only two in the classroom. She wonders if Doyeon really is the next coming of Jesus and contemplates kneeling down in prayer before realizing that she isn’t even a Christian. She remains seated.

As if things aren’t already strange enough, Doyeon walks towards Yoojung and stands right in front of her desk. Her stare bores right through Yoojung and the latter starts wondering if her mind can be read.

Doyeon leans forward and Yoojung cranes her neck to look back at the older girl. Despite being the smallest girl in class, Yoojung is never usually fazed by the tallest girl in class, but today, she feels like an ant next to the Lotte World Tower that is Kim Doyeon.

Yoojung wants to use this opportunity to confront Doyeon about her missing red mechanical pencil and the four pieces of 0.7mm lead and the wooden pencil Doyeon was spinning on her fingers and hell, even the lined paper that was the last one in Yoojung’s binder before the refill, but the smaller girl struggles to speak her mind when Doyeon is gazing at her in a way no one has ever looked at her before.

The taller girl leans in closer and this time, Yoojung admits defeat to the staring contest and has to avert her gaze to Doyeon’s forehead because the nose is still too close to the curious eyes (Yoojung is afraid of being hypnotized) and the lips- well, Yoojung thinks she definitely cannot and should not look at her lips. She concludes that the forehead is the next best thing (the safest thing).

“Choi Yoojung,” Doyeon says and Yoojung’s heart skips a beat, startled by how her name sounds when said by Doyeon at a normal volume that isn’t a whisper for once.

“What do you want?” is what Yoojung wants to ask, but instead, the only noise that escapes is a quiet hum.  

Noticing that Yoojung’s gaze is directed elsewhere, Doyeon moves her head to meet Yoojung’s eyes, but the smaller girl only manages to evade yet again and Yoojung continues to stare at Doyeon’s forehead.

(Do not look at the lips! Yoojung screams to herself.)

Doyeon, who had her hands behind her back this entire time, swings her right arm to the front. In her hand is Yoojung’s treasured mechanical pencil. Yoojung’s eyes flicker to the pencil being held in front of her face. She had not seen it in six whole days.

“This is yours, right?” questions Doyeon and Yoojung attempts to snatch the pencil out of her hands, but Doyeon is quicker and pulls it back.

“I need it back,” Yoojung mutters.

“How badly do you want it back?”

“As badly as anyone who has ever lent anything to another person.”

“So…not that bad?” asks Doyeon as she quirks an eyebrow.

Eyes trained on the pencil, Yoojung lets out a sigh when she manages to finally avert her attention from the pretty girl in front of her throwing her off to the red mechanical pencil in said girl’s hand. “Will you give it to me or not?”

Doyeon purses her lips and Yoojung notices it in her peripheral vision and then her eyes are back to staring at Doyeon’s less distracting forehead.

“I’m holding Mr. Zero Point Seven Millimetre here hostage,” replies Doyeon. Yoojung lets out an incredulous ‘huh?!’ and if it wasn’t for Doyeon’s soul-penetrating gaze clouding her mind, Yoojung would’ve even scoffed. Doyeon continues, “I’m holding your beloved pencil hostage.”

“What, are you demanding a ransom or something?”

“Yes,” is all Doyeon says and this time, Yoojung scoffs because even a thousand Doyeon stares won't prevent a response like that in a situation like this.

“You want me to pay you so I can get something that has always belonged to me?” Yoojung asks and she can’t believe how ridiculous this whole thing is. She considers just forgetting about her pencil altogether- she can always go out and buy a new one anyways.

“That’s right,” Doyeon says. Her voice is calm and frank, like she corners girls in classrooms regularly and that telling them that she’s holding their pencil “hostage” for a “ransom” is a completely ordinary and totally normal routine. 

“I’m not giving you money,” replies Yoojung.

“I never said anything about you having to give me money.”

“You just said ‘yes’ to my ‘are you demanding a ransom or something’ question!”

“There's another way to pay me.”

Yoojung narrows her eyes (at Doyeon’s forehead) and suddenly, she fears for her life. No way…does Doyeon possibly want her to pay with her life?! Yoojung starts regretting all of the decisions she has made in the past few days and wishes she never gave the pencil or the lead or the paper in the first place. Accepting her fate, she begins to silently repent for all of her sins (“sorry to whatever god is listening to me right now, I am just too generous for my own good and now it’s about to bite me in the - I mean the - but wait, please save me, I’m too young to die in this classroom at the hands of-!”) before Doyeon interrupts Yoojung’s self-reflection.

 “Go to an ice cream parlour with me,” Doyeon interjects.

Yoojung widens her eyes and she can’t believe her ears. She finally looks at Doyeon’s eyes out of disbelief and finds the same stare that the taller girl has been giving her all this time, but it’s only now that Yoojung realizes that it’s not a gaze meant to intimidate or lure. Instead, it's a look of curious interest, of eager anticipation, of guileless innocence; like a young astronomer-to-be discovering a new constellation somewhere in Yoojung's eyes.

“H-huh?” is all Yoojung is able to say before Doyeon leans in closer and Yoojung lets out a shy squeak.  They are an entire pencil length apart (maybe a bit more), but to Yoojung, the distance feels like 0.7 millimetres.

“Ice cream parlour. You and me,” says Doyeon, cool as a cucumber, as if unaware of the turmoil happening in Yoojung’s head as her mind goes haywire, but Doyeon isn’t unaware because Yoojung is just too painfully obvious when she is flustered.

“Uh- um,” Yoojung stutters as she gathers her thoughts.

Well this is turning out…interesting. On second thought, what did I get myself into? All I did was share my things like the generous angel that I am. I’ve never even held a proper conversation with this girl. This girl…Kim Doyeon. A god amongst mortals, the next Jesus probably if she doesn't already have her own religion, has six times the friends I have (but six times zero is zero…urgh nevermind. This isn't important). What is she doing talking to me? Ice cream parlour? With me? She’s like the apex and I’m not even in the triangle! She's even prettier up close. Since when has she been this pretty? Well, I guess always, but I've never cared...right? Because why would I when she’s way out of my nonexistent league! Not like I ever had a chance anyways, but right now... Ah, what is happening? Choi Yoojung, get it together...

“Ice cream parlour? W-why?” Yoojung asks.

“I told you. I’m holding your pencil hostage. Don't you want it back?”

“Can’t you just give me my pencil?”

“Can’t you just go to the ice cream parlour with me?” Doyeon retorts and her insistence does not help the flustered blushing mess that is Yoojung.  

“Like a…like a date or…or something…?” Yoojung stammers.

Doyeon shrugs. “If you want to call it that.”

The smaller girl lets out a nervous laugh and if her arms weren’t glued to her side, she’d fan herself as she feels the room getting warmer.

“So are you coming or what?” Doyeon presses on. Yoojung would think she’d be impatient by now, but Doyeon remains cool and collected.

“Fine,” Yoojung squeaks out and she doesn’t even realize the quickening of her heartbeat when Doyeon smiles at her. “For my pencil,” Yoojung says.

“Great!” Doyeon exclaims before pulling out a piece of paper from her backpack and using the mechanical pencil to scribble numbers on the page. She slides the paper to Yoojung. “If you get a text from this number, it’s me. By the way, this is your paper that I asked for a couple days ago. You’ll get your pencil back at the parlour after we eat ice cream together. Promise!”

And Doyeon flashes her one more smile, the brightest one yet (radiant enough to convert anyone into the religion of Doyeonism) before the bell rings and their classmates come flooding in. Yoojung muses, half in disbelief and half in unexpected eagerness; she'll finally get her pencil back and strangely, she doesn’t regret lending it one bit.  

a/n: so much pencil talk, i bet you thought sohye would pop up