Author’s note: I realize some confusion might result from this, so, preemptively: Eunha’s surname in this fic is Hwang (since SinB and Eunha are siblings in this fic, I decided to use SinB’s surname instead, hence the reference to Eunha as “Miss Hwang” in this chapter). 

Her feet pound against the pavement, a rapid thud-thudding that slows, just, as she rounds the corner. She can see the surprise in her partner’s eyes - it’s not like her to be awake before sunrise. As if she had any choice in this situation. 

Her steps slow to a stop in front of her partner, and she turns, looking out into the dark, inky horizon, skies still too dark to distinguish the mountains that she’s come to be so familiar with. It’s quiet, she thinks, and somehow that is the thought that brings her to the edge, fighting to choke back the tears she knows her partner hates to see. 

The words that escape her are a sob she can’t quite swallow, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes that she blinks away furiously, “I’ll wait for you.” 

There is a quiet sigh, and her partner reaches out with one hand, fingers pressed against her chin, and tilts her head around to look her full in the face. “That’s the thing, love. I’ve never wanted you to.” 

It’s not, Eunha muses, that she doesn’t appreciate a good crowd. Especially when the crowd happens to be welcoming her; what greater sign of her booming popularity could there be beyond being greeted by screaming fans the moment she gets off the plane? But being greeted by over-enthusiastic fans is one thing - being greeted by a group of familiar black suits whom Eunha has specifically, repeatedly requested the absence of is quite another. 

Yuju notices the frown on her face first, nudging her slightly as she maintains that photo-perfect smile on her face, waving at the fans. “What’s up? Aren’t you the one that loves hearing crowds scream our names?” 

Eunha jerks her head out towards the group suited in black formalwear, eyes nearly rolling to the back of her head in frustration. “Fans, yes. Them, not so much.” 

Her groupmate peers at them, brows furrowing slightly. “Yeah, they definitely do not look like fans-hey wait. They’re coming this way. Why’re they coming this way? Did the company organize bodyguards for us too? Hey, are we big enough to need bodyguards?” The taller girl looks thrilled at the idea as she races forward, prodding excitedly at their manager, but Eunha knows better. 

The rest of the group has noticed the group by now, let alone their manager leading them; he barely has time to protest before they’re right in front of him, all stern faces and sharp angles, eyes hidden behind identical sunglasses. The woman in the lead, a particularly familiar figure, addresses him; Sana and Yuju, standing right behind their manager, lean forward in just about the most unsubtle attempt to listen more clearly to the conversation, but Chaeyeon rocks back on her heels, eyes surveying the group that has approached them. 

Eunha glances to the side, at the fans - some of them, the ones in the front able to see what’s happening have quietened, looking at each other uncertainly, but there’s still more than enough screaming coming from the back, from the fans who haven’t quite registered that their idols have been stopped by a group of suits. 

It’s now or never! 

And Eunha drops her bag and luggage, turning on her heels to take off into the crowd even as she hears the metallic clang of her luggage handle hitting the ground, the shout from the lead agent behind her. She squeezes through the fans - the only time Eunha’s grateful that she’s small is when she’s in a crowd, seriously - who go wild, screaming their lungs out as they realize their idol is among them, is within arms’ reach. The crowd shifts, fans behind Eunha shifting towards her as they register what has happened, fans ahead of her yelling, panicked and confused about what’s going on. She shoves, hard, and breaks through the crowd, turning her head back to catch a glimpse of the agents muscling their way - or trying to, anyway - through the horde of screaming fans. The fans have the agents now, realizing that they’re the ones Eunha’s trying to get away from. Some are plain bewildered at the situation, but others push back against the agents, slowing them down in an attempt to help their idol. The lead agent herself is swallowed by the crowd, only her blonde hair just barely visible in the midst of the chaos. 

Eunha laughs, freely, and darts around the corner towards the elevator. 

She makes it as far as the carpark. 

Eunha rounds the side of a truck and runs right into the solid figure of an agent towering half a head over her, arms crossed and face stoic. She yelps, but before she can even make a move to turn away, the agent’s hand shoots out, vice-like grip latching onto Eunha’s arm. “Miss Hwang.” 

“Hey-let go!” Eunha snaps, wriggling her arm a little to test the agent’s grip. The agent’s brow arches, and her grip tightens, “Please don’t make any more of a scene than you already have, Miss Hwang.” 

Eunha’s eyes narrow, gaze sharp and hot. “Making a scene? Who’s making a scene? You’re the ones skulking around the airport like unwanted creepers! I told Mother I didn’t want her security doofuses following me around the moment I got back to Korea, didn’t I?” 

The agent barely flinches. “You will have to take that up with the President, Miss Hwang. I am just here to you safely back to the Blue House.”

Eunha’s brows draw together and she takes a step back, scrutinizing the agent’s face. “You’re new, aren’t you. I’ve never seen you before. What’s your name? Don’t answer that.” She tugs her arm out of the agent’s grasp before grabbing firmly onto her jacket, pulling her close. The agent takes half a step forward, and for once, the stoicism in her tone is broken as she stares down at Eunha, bewildered. “What are you doing?” 

Eunha drags her hands along the agent’s jacket, rummaging through her pockets. The agent shifts, uncomfortable, but before she can draw back, Eunha’s fingers snag the badge she’s looking for. She tugs it out of the agent’s pocket. “Agent Kim Sowon of the Presidential Secret Service. So you are new.” 

Eunha smirks. “Well then, Agent Hardass, since it seems you’re unfamiliar with the rules, let me lay them down for you. You may follow my mother’s orders, but when you’re with me, I’m in charge, and that’s especially true of a rookie like you. That means you get to do what I say, you don’t get to manhandle me, and you let me do. What. I. Want.” She emphasizes each word with a hard prod into the agent’s shoulder. “Are we clear?”

Sowon just stares down at her, expression deadpan. “That is not my name.” 

Before Eunha can retort, she hears the hurried beat of footsteps behind her, and turns her head to see the agents she’d lost two levels above coming into view. The lead agent is panting, blonde hair a mess that she runs a hand through. “Oh, you found her. Good. Great. Yay.” 

Eunha whips around, grin cheeky. “Hey, Yerin.” 

Yerin snaps her glasses off, brows raised, the sarcasm heavy in her tone. “Oh, so you do recognize me! I wasn’t sure for a moment there; the way you were running I thought I’d turned into a tiger.” She pokes Eunha in the shoulder. “That was a very unflattering welcome, by the way.”

Eunha pokes Yerin back, right in the stomach. “Yeah, well, that was a very unpleasant welcome for me too! You know I hate it when mother sends her goons - no offence - to follow me around like I’m some sort of five-year old who needs babysitting. And you did it right in front of my entire band! That’s humiliating!” 

Yerin raises her hands defensively, backing up. “Hey, you know that’s not up to us. We’re just the security detail. Chain of command, Eunha. Your mum gives the orders, we just do what we’re told.” 

“Oh, yeah? Then who told this rookie she could manhandle me like some sort of brute?” Eunha demands, an accusatory finger pointed at Sowon. Yerin looks at the red-headed agent, then back at Eunha, baffled, as she blinks between the two of them. “Wait, what? What rookie?”

“There seems to be a misunderstanding.” Sowon’s voice is smooth as she steps closer to Eunha, long fingers grasping her badge and pulling it away from the short-haired girl. “I’m not a rookie.

“I’m the lead agent of this assignment. For the length of your stay in Korea, I’ll be in charge of your protection.” 

Yerin watches through the window as they peel by the other cars on the road, horizon blurring in the distance. The quiet in the car doesn’t last long - they’re five minutes away from the carpark of the airport when Sowon glances away from the road, at her. “I still find it weird you know the president’s daughters, you know.”

Yerin looks up at the rearview mirror - Eunha isn’t just being quiet, she’s asleep, head lolling against the headrest, earbuds firmly plugged in as she snoozes. Yerin figures she likely exhausted from the fourteen hour plane ride from New York. “What’s so weird about it? My mum’s President Hwang’s Chief-of-Staff, and she served as her campaign manager and aide for years. Of course we knew each other. We practically grew up together.” 

“Yeah, but, like, you’re Yerin. Yerin who went to the same public schools and academies as me. We’ve been friends for years, and you literally never mentioned them, it’s weird now when you talk to them like old besties.” 

Yerin shoots the older agent an amused look. “Yeah, well, it would’ve been kind of a move to constantly publicize that my family’s in politics, right? Besides, you’ve seen me talking to SinB plenty of times, shouldn’t you be used to it by now?” 

Sowon shrugs, her hands shifting to turn on the signal as she changes lanes. “I guess.”

Yerin glances at her friend, her lanky frame taut and shoulders held tight, fingers lashed tightly against the steering wheel. The tension in Sowon’s body in unmistakable. Yerin checks the rearview mirror to make sure the younger girl is still deeply asleep, then turns to her friend, voice quiet, “I know you didn’t want to take this assignment to begin with, that you wanted to maintain your assignation to the president because you think that’s more important, and I know Eunha definitely didn’t make the best first impression, but she’s really not that bad. You just caught her at a really bad time - Eunha, she’s got this thing about having her freedom and being able to do what she wants without being constantly reminded about who her family is. And coming back to Korea and being greeted by, well, us, that’s basically everything she outright told the president she didn’t want, so of course she was upset-” 

“Yerin?” Sowon interrupts, “We’re the presidential family’s security detail, not their lawyers. You don’t have to justify their actions for them. And besides, we’re all adults here. Just because Miss Hwang is incapable of acting like one doesn’t impair my ability to do my job.”  

“I’m just saying, keeping an optimistic and open outlook might not make your job easier, but it will probably make it more enjoyable.” Yerin points out mildly. Sowon merely grunts, and Yerin drops the matter, turning to look back out the window - she knows how stubborn her friend is, and how pointless it would be to argue any further. 

There is a groan from behind them, and both agents look into the rearview mirror as Eunha stirs, one earbud falling out as she stretches, blinking blearily at the roads whizzing by, then back at the agents. “Where are we going? This isn’t the way to the Blue House.” 

“The president felt that given the time at which your flight landed, dinner would be a more sensible option, and she wanted to celebrate your return. We are headed to a restaurant nearby.” Sowon replies, “We are about two minutes out.” 

Eunha’s brows furrow. “And if I’m not hungry?” 

“You will have to take that up with the president, Miss Hwang.” 

Yerin shakes her head at Eunha, but the younger girl ignores it. “So, is that stick up your just permanently in place or do you ever relax?” 

Fortunately, the older agent doesn’t respond to the jibe. Sowon merely shoots Yerin a look as if to say, see?, but Yerin just shakes her head at her too. Mouth drawn tight, she turns into a small street, where three other black armoured cars with tinted windows are already parked. Sowon pulls up in an empty lot. “This is it, Miss Hwang.” 

“I can see that.” Before Sowon or Yerin can undo their seat belts, Eunha is already up and out of the car, heading toward the restaurant where two agents are standing guard. 

Sowon bites back a sigh. “What were you saying about her being not that bad, again?” 

Yerin just laughs. “I guess you just get on her nerves. Good luck with that.” Both agents nod at the two standing at the door. “Mina, Momo.” 

Mina nods back, sharply, but Momo perks up, tugging on Yerin’s shoulder. “Thank god, I’m starving. Help me order a plate of meat and send it out, will you? Pigs’ trotters, if they have it. Or pigs’ feet. Or pigs’ intestines. Just, meat.” 

Yerin laughs. “Okay, okay, I think I get the idea.” 

The restaurant is quiet as they push the door open - one of the benefits of being the president, Sowon supposes. It’s easy to book out an entire restaurant. The president and her family is strategically seated, right in the middle of the room; the tables arranged in a circle around them are filled with sharply dressed agents, shades off for once, three to a table. Yerin heads off to a table farther off, where Jungyeon and BM are seated, while Sowon joins Nayeon and Joseph at the table just to the left of the president’s. 

“You guys are late.” Nayeon mutters under her breath. “We got here like twenty minutes before you did. What’s with the holdup?”

“President’s daughter decided a merry chase was the way to go.” Sowon shoots Nayeon a look. Joseph stifles a laugh, then ducks his head meekly at the glare Sowon sends him. “Not funny.”

“Yeah, really not funny.” Nayeon glances at the presidential family. “I feel like we’re sitting in a nuclear war zone.” 

Sowon follows her gaze, and it’s easy to see, almost immediately, what the older agent means. Whatever greetings exchanged between Eunha and her family must’ve already taken place, because all four of them sit quietly. The president and her wife are conversing softly,  leaning towards each other. SinB sits slouched in her chair, fingers drumming against the table, the boredom on her face almost palpable. Eunha, on the other hand, sits ramrod straight, shoulders stiff as she stares down at her plate, avoiding the gazes of her family. 

“Agent Kim.” Sowon stands at attention as the president turns to her suddenly. “Any trouble?”

Sowon registers as Eunha's head jerks up out of the corner of her eye; the younger girl stares intently at the agent for a moment, then looks away, fingers playing with her fork, mouth drawn tight. 

“...No, ma’am. No trouble.” 

Nayeon makes a soft noise next to her. The president nods in acknowledgment, but it’s her wife who pauses, gaze fixed on Sowon for a long moment. 

“Taeyeon, dear, if you want to have a staring match, we can arrange for that after the meal.” Tiffany interrupts them with a chuckle, fingers rubbing against her wife’s knuckles. After a brief moment, Taeyeon relaxes. “At ease, Agent.” 

Out of the corner of Sowon's eyes, Eunha relaxes as well, leaning back into her chair. Next to her, SinB makes a face, sticking her tongue out, but Sowon just glares at her. She dips her head at the president’s acknowledgment, then returns to her seat, just as the waiters emerge to serve their food. Nayeon nudges her arm. “Covering for her? You know you could’ve gotten into trouble, right? If the president wasn’t so nice, you probably would’ve.” 

Sowon just shrugs. She doesn’t quite know why she did that either. But neither does she understand the tension in the room, the stilted way the president addresses her newly-returned daughter, and vice versa - only that the way Eunha seemed to fold into herself, small and nervous, made her feel deeply uncomfortable watching. And as she watches Eunha lean into her sister easily, posture loose and face open, she finds herself thinking:

That was the right call.

Eunha waits until the food has been served before she turns towards her sister. “Hey.” 

SinB barely glances up, focused on picking the carrots out of her food. “Hey yourself.” 

“So what’s the story with Agent Hardass?” 

That catches SinB’s attention; she looks up, blinking and confused, chopsticks still poised over her plate. “Who the hell is Agent Hardass? The only agent who’s a hardass is Somin and you already know her.” 

Eunha waves a hand in Sowon’s general direction. “Obviously I meant the new agent? She’s the only one I don’t recognize.” 

SinB just stares at her sister for a a moment, then cracks up. “You mean the Lamppost? How is she a hardass?” 

Eunha rolls her eyes at her sister, who’s practically pealing with laughter at this point, clearly entertained by the idea of Sowon as a hardass. “Okay, whatever. I talked to her for like all of five minutes, okay?” She turns back to her own food, spearing a carrot with her fork, when her mother cuts in. “SinB, your carrots are meant to be eaten, not exiled to the side of your plate. Eunha, you’ve barely spoken to us since you got here. How’ve things been going for you?” 

Both her mothers have rested their cutlery down, looking at their daughter in anticipation. She shrugs. “Okay, I guess. The band’s been doing pretty well, we sold out our last few concerts. Our manager says our concert in Korea actually managed to sell out a minute, so we’ve got plenty of international recognition, too, and that’s a good thing.”

Tiffany frowns. “Concert in Korea? I didn’t hear about this.” 

“Didn’t you? I must’ve forgot to mention it in my email; we’re holding a concert in a week. We figured since we were all coming back here for our vacation, we might as well hold a last event in Korea.” Eunha registers the look her parents exchange a moment later. “What? Is there a problem with that?” 

“No, of course not. But you’ll understand, for security reasons, we’d probably need to arrange a detail to keep an eye out at your concert, yes?” Tiffany turns to Nayeon, the agent-in-charge of the presidential detail. “Please work something out, Agent.” 

“Hold on a minute.” Eunha’s face is set, lips taut. Nayeon hesitates, eyes darting towards Eunha. “Ma’am?” 

“Oh boy.” SinB mutters, sinking back into her seat as she drops her fork, but Eunha ignores her. “I didn’t agree to a security presence at the concert. For that matter, I didn’t agree to being picked up at the airport like a child, either.” 

Taeyeon can’t quite bite back her sigh. “You know that’s only to keep you safe, Eunha.” 

“And I am safe. Our manager was with us at the airport, and the company always hires security at our concerts. We are protected.” Eunha retorts. 

“It’s not the same. You’re a member of the presidential family, you’re not just some idol, regular bodyguards aren’t going to be enough. Agent Kim is one of our best; I won’t have your safety compromised by substandard security.” Tiffany stresses. Eunha notes, out of the corner of her eye, as Sowon looks around at the mention of her, then immediately turns back to her food, eyes fixed downwards like all the other agents in the room. “You’re being childish, Eunha.” 

SinB shakes her head emphatically at Eunha, but to no avail; Eunha’s voice is deadly quiet, fingers clenched around her tablecloth. “Childish to want to be treated like anyone else? Childish because I don’t want to be coddled?”

“Enough.” Taeyeon snaps, the impatience in her tone unmistakable. “This isn’t coddling, Eunha, this is taking the necessary precautions. We’ve already acquiesced to most of your demands; we let you drop out of school to pursue music, we let you enter the public eye as an idol even though that’s ridiculously dangerous for someone of your position, we supported your group financially so you could make it overseas. And you can’t even compromise on our one requirement to keep you safe? Grow up, Eunha, and stop this ungrateful behaviour.”

SinB has sunk so far back into her seat her torso is barely visible above the table. She reaches for her sister’s hand as she stands, blinking back angry tears. "Eunha, c'mon. Let's all just take a breather here." But Eunha tugs away from her grasp, vehement; she throws her tablecloth down, and storms out of the restaurant.