The headline wrote itself: Girl Saved Girlfriend from Murdering a Chum, with an unnecessarily huge professionally taken photo of her jumping the fence separating the lowest level of audience seats to the arena. Beside the cursed photo is another one with Chungha pinning Nayoung to the ground, a fist raised frozen in mid-air. Sejeong is thankful it’s still not technologically possible to print out a video or a gif file. The hard-thrown pummel and Nayoung’s trauma-inducing pained scream should be left in the past.

Sejeong closes the bulletin and sets it back on the unoccupied desk beside her, Eunwoo’s. Unoccupied because Eunwoo’s busy gossiping with a cluster of girls in the far back of the class.

Or maybe Eunwoo excused herself in fear of third-wheeling her and Chungha’s break-between-classes date.

Chungha seizes the seat in front of hers, sitting backwards with her arms folded on top of the backrest. “Don’t read the news.”

“Misleading, or did the headline hit too close home?”

Her girlfriend muffles her snort into her wrist instead. The action subtly visualizes Chungha’s deep-seated shame for losing her control over provoking words… whatever Nayoung said to her at the time. “Your bud is smart. She knows how to mess with others’ temper. I could’ve won through any other means… like telling her to surrender the game.”

It was two versus one with Chungha being the latter, but then again, Nayoung was a walking dead at the time and Eunwoo had a very cuddly and very much charmed Ms. Cheetah to deal with.

“Speaking of yesterday’s showdown,” she leans closer, chin perched on her palm, “why the sudden beating?”

“Hm?”

“She got you riled up. What’s the trigger?”

It’s weird to catch Chungha looking partly flustered. The question manages to flip her smile. “Nothing important, but nothing personal. Nothing you need to know.”

If anything, it piques her curiosity even more. She leans closer, enough to notice the slight scrunch on Chungha’s brow. “So it’s something.”

“It’s something, but it’s not something important.”

To answer Chungha’s firm decline, she inches even closer, close enough to notice the tinge of pink on Chungha’s cheeks. To coax the answer out of her or not. As much as she loves to revel in the cute sight of a flustered Chungha, there’s the pricking part of her that feels like whatever Nayoung said to Chungha is going to get her riled up too.

And it’s Nayoung. She was born a and grew up finely into a bigger .

Getting too close into the range of PDA in the middle of the classroom is not a wise decision, but she’s sure her classmates are used to it already. Then again, her class is unnaturally loud today, like everyone’s having a chatter at the same time, and they’re all sidelined to the glass window on the right of the class, looking into the hallway. Sejeong doesn’t really pay attention to the commotion, though. There’s already Chungha just centimeters before her.

She gives Chungha’s cute nose a soft bop with a pointer finger. “Curiosity kills the Sejeong…”

“I’ll make sure to cry in your funeral.”

She switches to her thumb. Chungha screws her eyes shut when she bops her nose a little harder. “With a Sejeong 2.0 clinging to your arm?”

“Nope. It’s wiser to date someone else.”

“Will you just tell me? I won’t grass out on you. I won’t rage. You did good baby, except that you nearly beat my friend to death, but then again that dumbo probably deserved it, and she survived anyway.”

“Tenacity. That must be her superpower…” Chungha trails off for a second, and there’s something cheeky in the way she averts her eyes to the desk to her left. “Okay, I lose.”

“That was fast.”

“Ssshh. Anyway, it’s just that… she said – “

There’s a loud crash, enough for Sejeong to whip around to the direction of the offending noise. From her peripheral vision, she sees Chungha following suit, but her eyes are too focused on the swarm of classmates latching themselves onto the window.

Driven by the familiar throbbing feeling in her chest, she pushes her way into the window, kicking some stray chairs out of the way.

It doesn’t take her even a minute before she bolts outside, feeling the urgency to after realizing the person behind the horrendously flashy noise. And she promptly closes her eyes from the wind sharpening against her as someone zips past her. Brushing her hair to the side, Sejeong turns around and sees a certain Kim Nayoung fleeing to the other end of the hallway.

And another shadowy figure zooming past her – this time, Ki Heehyun with her wings out maneuvering out of the bystanders’ way as she shouts out Nayoung’s name at the top of her lungs.

Oh boy.

People begin to flock around the corner of a wall. The uneasiness lurching inside her comes back.

Which means, Heehyun got her cornered and she’s currently taking the beating of the century right now. Sejeong swiftly gets into the crowd, pushing her way so she could get to the inner circle.

“You didn’t win over me you er!” Heehyun flings another fist, but it hits the wall as Nayoung narrowly dodges the hit by a hair-breadth distance.

Under Heehyun’s sinister glare, Nayoung carelessly shrugs. “Oh? I didn’t win the round, I failed my exam, but pretty sure you were outed you could even finish me.”

Sejeong glues her eyes tight as Heehyun readies for another knock-out attempt, but instead of a pained cry, she hears the dull thump of skin against the wall. Ungluing an eyelid, she’s left agape. Nayoung managed to roll to the side, her back to Heehyun, a hand rummaging through the sling bag she pulled to her front.

Heehyun wastes no time. The manifest pulls the powerless back by the collar.

And that’s Sejeong’s cue to step in, stomping her way behind Heehyun to pull the manifest’s back by the collar. “Okay, that’s enough bullying for a week.”

She meets Heehyun’s glare when Heehyun turns to face her. She returns the sour eyes when she realizes Heehyun hasn’t let Nayoung off her hold. “Hands off, Sejeong. You dunno stuff.”

“Oh. I possess enough eyes to see you’re going hard at her in broad daylight, outside the arena, with no midterm grades at stake.”

Nayoung quacks from below. “Hardy har!”

Taking none of Nayoung’s bullcrappy response into account, Sejeong inches glares harder at Heehyun. “What’s your excuse?”

“Have you ever considered the possibility that your friend might be a huge prick?” Heehyun talks back to her while shaking Nayoung’s collar like a sack of flour.

While she has a point, but Sejeong sort of trusts Nayoung’s judgement enough to know messing with Ki Heehyun should be considered a shortcut for a quick way to go. Add to the fact that Nayoung is too okay in the head to be suicidal, Sejeong had crossed the possibility.

At least until Nayoung wriggles around under Heehyun’s tight hold, then turns her back around to face Heehyun with a tube of pepper spray in her hand. Before anyone could scream out a warning, Nayoung’s already grinning triumphantly as she sprays a clean shot on Heehyun’s eyes. When Heehyun’s scream of mortal pain resounds, Sejeong immediately lets go of her hold to salvage her eardrums.

With that, Nayoung frees herself and speeds down the hallway towards the flight of stair to the far right, her all-purpose sling bag dragged across the floor tiles. The commotion closes in onto Heehyun’s hunching figure as she holds her eyes. Sejeong crab-walks out of the crowd and regroups with Chungha, who’s in the far outer of the circle.

“What the hell happened?”

To answer Chungha’s question, she sums whatever the happened in the last five minutes with a shrug.
 

P.E classes are okay, since she gets to sweat over productive team-playing, and unlike their dueling lessons, no one’s going to be wheeled to the academy’s hospital wing at the end of the session.

Between competitive classmates and eye candy in the form of Chungha in gym outfit (made form-fitting because of the sweats!), Sejeong is assured that P.E is the necessary fun and interactive break she needs.

That is, if Class 2-1 doesn’t act up.

Due to conflicting schedules, Ms. Kahi has to group the two classes into one time slot, so Class 2-2 has to share the volleyball court with a much louder and scandalous Class 2-1. The idea of team sports between Class 2-1 and 2-2 is pretty tame. A round of volleyball between gal pals. A side of the court for a team of the best six players in 2-1 and the other side for Sejeong, Chungha, and Friends. No superpower involved. No potential mayhem in sight.

Until she realizes Nayoung isn’t on the other side of the court.

Not that Nayoung is a certified sports nut. Born with weak legs, she isn’t much of an asset in competitive sports, but when she wouldn’t pass on the fun.

Sejeong sends an easy pass to Chungha, who immediately leaps for a killer smash. The girls in the sideline lap up to Chungha’s display of Attractive Volleyball, and Sejeong calms the urge to gawk at her smoking hot girlfriend. Unfortunately, there lies something too sketchy not to keep her eyes on.

Nayoung is sitting on the sideline, but she’s not among the noisy Class 2-1 girls. She isn’t shouting uplifting words for her classmates on the court. If anything, it’s almost the opposite; Sejeong traces Nayoung’s the line of stringent eyes and locates the object of the glare. It’s Chungha.

Glaring at a player isn’t considered spectator’s sport. Is she taking the whole volleyball thing too seriously?

Ms. Kahi plays the whistle and Class 2-1’s ace player Kang Siwon opens another round with a well-directed service. The ‘wooh’s crank up in craziness when Chungha and Minkyung team up for a block. Through a of luck, Heehyun messes up on her own block, handing Class 2-2 a free point.

“Thanks for the charity work, Ki!” Turning around coolly after dropping the one-liner, Chungha is practically the day’s MVP. Sejeong approaches their ace player, flocking around her like the rest of her teammates. A harmless act.

Taking her eyes off Nayoung, however, is a grave mistake she regrets. After her harmless pat becomes an affectionate hook of her arm around Chungha’s shoulders, she notices a blur of brown and white standing up to her feet. Her first reaction is to pay no mind to it, trying to brush off the bad premonition clouding her head.

“Good job embarrassing those lame snuffers, babe – “

 She turns her head around too late.

“Hey, Ace Heehyun,” Nayoung calls out from the sideline, palms forming makeshift megaphone around , all the eyes are onto her, “stop dilly-dallying, show them who’s boss! What’s holding your back?! Afraid of getting hauled for penalty again?!”

That does it. Heehyun marches out of the court towards a grinning Nayoung, who holds her ground. The cheering and booing subside into an awkward quiet. Ms. Kahi looks like she’s in urgent need of an aspirin.

Everyone collectively gasps when Heehyun takes a hold of Nayoung’s collar, but Sejeong’s sure nobody’s that shaken from the sight. Heehyun seethes at Nayoung’s small grin, “Okay, so what’s your problem?”

The reply isn’t immediate. There’s a grueling suspense hanging in the air. She readies herself to stop Heehyun from putting out a graphic show of meat-mincing, unhooking her arm from Chungha –

Until she feels someone pulling her wrist back. Chungha stops her, and Sejeong turns to face her girlfriend, intending to ask why.

And that’s also when Nayoung breaks the imaginary ice with a sledgehammer, “I got ninety-nine problems, but you won’t even be one like – “

Everyone sees Heehyun’s furious punch coming, but the gasps still resound. Nayoung’s thrown back, landing on her bottom and Class 2-1’s girls and some of her own classmates begin to circle around them, some trying to pull Heehyun back. Some cheering. Some betting on who’ll be the one least unscathed.

“Pretty sure hitting the supporter is against the rules!” Sejeong couldn’t see Nayoung from the human fence around her, but her voice is clear enough. Along with the pained grunt she lets out and the familiar sound of a whack.

The queasy feelings inside her motivates her to slip out of Chungha’s hold. “Sorry, I’ll be right back. Got an idiot to discipline. Tuesday isn’t a good day for underhanded jabs.”

“Don’t fight Heehyun – “

“Oh, no, no,” it’s scary how she could hear her own voice dripping with venom, “the idiot in question is definitely not Heehyun.” She works up a smile. “Give me a minute?”

She slithers into the crowding girls until she’s in the inner circle, watching Heehyun and Nayoung exchanging insults with Heehyun towering over Nayoung, who’s claiming the floor. Juna is beside them, trying to remedy the situation. Obviously, it’s not working.

“Hey, chill with the beating, I mean, bro, there’s no need for a fist fight when you have a volleyball, and,” Juna turns her attention to Nayoung, who’s cupping her swollen left cheek, “you’re cool, but I ain’t gonna discount your low hooks, man,”

Nayoung laughs and Sejeong thinks, perhaps, she’s going mad.

It doesn’t help that the moment their eyes meet for a fraction of second, Nayoung’s laugh only grows larger in volume.

“Not my fault my words clocked her weaknesses, one too many.”

Heehyun grits her teeth and raises her fist, ready to slam Nayoung with it. Sejeong wastes no time to intervene.

Of course Nayoung doesn’t plan to be Heehyun’s punching bag at all, as the girl quickly scurries away on all fours, but now with a more significant space between her and Heehyun, Sejeong takes a swift leap to fit herself between Heehyun and Nayoung, arms raised defensively. Along with that, she activates her manifest power; her own shadow under her raises up, forming a thin, black rectangle, and it solidifies, blocking Heehyun’s punch from connecting with her body.

“Augh!”

Her shadow puddles back below and a grumbling Heehyun who’s shaking her wrist around comes in sight.

“Move aside, I don’t hit attractive people. Unless you want me to mangle you unattractive, then sure, get in the line. Nayoung’s first.”

Sejeong sighs at Heehyun’s much needed forewarning. “Pass. I’d like to keep it au naturel.”

Nayoung chirps from behind her even though literally nobody on the planet asks her to, “Totally unlike Heehyun’s jaw!”

The preceding comment does affect Heehyun, as her eyes take a beastlier turn and her movement quickens, she tries to get through Sejeong by side-stepping to the left and lunging down onto Nayoung from there, but Sejeong takes pride in her reflex. Her shadow shoots out two vine-like whips that slither around Heehyun’s legs, wrapping around them tight and halting her steps. Heehyun nearly topples off-balance, surprised by the sneak attack.

“Let go,”

She ignores Heehyun’s not-plea and faces her childhood friend, her shadow still holding onto Heehyun’s legs. Nayoung stands to her full height, patting her from dusts. Sejeong decides to cut to the chase. “Your heartfelt apology to Miss Ki, please.”

“Sorry for having a decent-sized sense of humor?”

Sejeong struggles to keep her shadow around Heehyun’s legs as the manifest is struggling to get herself off it. Ms. Kahi knows when to step in, fortunately. “Okay, girls. I don’t mind you biting each other’s head off, but it’s P.E right now. You settle it with this,” she holds the gleaming volleyball to their face. Sejeong opens to voice her agreement that, yes, it would be nice if they could settle it through competitive sports.

The moment she croaks out a ‘yes’, Heehyun breaks free from her shadow’s hold and swerves straight past her, stealing the volleyball from Ms. Kahi’s grasp on the way, and proceeds to heavy-smash the ball to Nayoung, who narrowly avoids the ball with a girlish shriek.

“Get back here, NayounggggGGG!” Heehyun calls out, and grabs another stray ball on the floor, ready to fire another towards Nayoung’s fleeing figure.

“Hey! Volleyball not dodgeball, please!”

She applauds Nayoung’s skills when it comes to making an unnecessary comments in her own deathbed. It might as well be her manifest power.

Siwon tries to give chase, Juna shrugs and gives up entirely on them, Chaeyeon calls out Heehyun’s name to no avail, and Suhyun begins to place her bet, followed by the other girls. Meanwhile, all Sejeong gets is a headache, as she chases after Heehyun, silently apologizing to Chungha that she it’s going to take longer than a minute.

At least, a mental note to self: take Chungha out to the city later after school. But make her shoulder the shortcake expenses.
 

School is finally over, but certainly not in a blink. It dragged a bit in some parts, most notably the ones where she had to look out for a certain childhood friend with a load of death wishes.

The mental note was taken to action particularly for the best interests of her, and of Chungha’s. A walk to the city might take her mind off things, and even though she’s not the one being the receiving end of Heehyun’s ruthless beating and dodgeball shots…

… because of it, she’s getting some tidbits of residue. Whenever Nayoung gets hit, she couldn’t deny the feeling inside her.

Her bag now set around her right shoulder, she walks out of the classroom with Chungha just behind her. The door slides open, and a certain Kim Nayoung brings herself into view.

Sejeong isn’t in the mood for any of her bull, but she’s a friend. “Were you waiting for me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Nayoung’s eyes wander to Chungha, who’s looking back at her. They don’t stay long before settling themselves back on Sejeong. “But looks like you’ve got yourself a company.”

“Hm? We… don’t have plans together today, right…?”

Chungha taps into the conversation. “I’m not in the way, am I?”

“Nope. No plan. Just thought Sejeong was free so we could hang out. She might get lonely.” Nayoung shakes her head, and from the look of it, Chungha looks assured, especially with Nayoung’s easy smile. Too easy. Kim Nayoung doesn’t smile this easily.

Sejeong tries out an apologetic look to mask her relief. “Okaaaay then. Some other time?”

When Nayoung slightly averts her eyes, she knows it’s because Nayoung couldn’t handle her smile. Even through these years… “Yup. Then, guess I’ll head over to the dorm. Later.”

Instead of walking down the hallway like a normal human being with the intention of spending her afternoon leisurely in the dorm, Nayoung sprints down the hallway, barely avoiding a teacher with her hands full of paperwork. Ms. Seong Hyemin shouts at her retreating figure, but Nayoung’s already taking the stairways up to the third level.

The exit to the building is certainly not up there… but she digresses.

“Shall we?” Chungha asks her, taking a hold of her hand, and Sejeong relaxes at Chungha’s touch, nodding her ‘yes’.

They talk about anything – the lessons, the P.E ‘incident’ (in apostrophes, since a physical fight isn’t exactly uncommon in Illiad Academy (Seoul branch!)), gossips… until they’re greeted by the 4 PM sunlight, where their conversation is put to an abrupt stop, all because of the buzzing the outdoor speakers attached to the lamp posts make.

“A—hem, ahem, test, one two three four, mic check one two,”

The voice from the other side of the speaker sounds eerily similar. Husky, cracky, a bit unpleasant for those not blessed with an acquired taste.

“Sorry for disrupting your lovely evening… but this is Anonymous speaking, about to deliver the news of the century…”

“Hey, I think I’ve heard of this voice…” Not far from them, a girl in softball uniform quips. She exchanges confused glances with Chungha.

“We’ll start with this week’s headline – Girl Saved Girlfriend from Murdering a Chum. A bit distasteful for a headline. Disappointed at the journalism club, but certainly wasn’t surprised. Anyway, no, no, that wasn’t the part I want to convey. Hmmm… the hit… referee… the chum fighting back… now, now this one!”

Sejeong bites her lower lip. Feeling the need to.

“… ace Ki Heehyun’s first ‘loss’, getting her handed through The Chum’s sharp wit. As the saying goes, brains over brawls…”

“ing KIM!”

Her heart jumps at Heehyun’s loud outburst even though she’s in the middle of a busy school courtyard with the speaker bullting “news” on full force. Following Heehyun’s line of vision, her lips part when the window of a room on the third level is pulled up to the maximum and half of Nayoung’s body pops out, headphone around her head.

“Now…” the voice from the speaker matches with the movement of Nayoung’s mouth, “… don’t you want to put this Chum in her place, Miss Ki?”

And she swears, at that exact moment, Radio DJ Nayoung’s eyes glaze over to her side, and their glances meet for a fraction of nanosecond. Because now she has this unstoppable thirst for a homicide with Nayoung and her lame middle part as the victim.

Heehyun roars out her deeply-engraved contempt as she sprints back into the school building, and before she disappears into the entrance, Sejeong sees her demonic wings growing out of her back. Sejeong clucks her teeth, already imagining the bloodbath that’ll take place in the broadcast room now that Heehyun’s 120% enraged.

Almost subconsciously, she takes a step or two towards the building, her fingers slipping out of Chungha’s.

Until Chungha takes a hold of her wrist. “Are you going to play white knight this time too?”

“No. I’m going to beat her . And put her into place.”

“Not Heehyun’s, I presume.”

“Not Heehyun’s.”

Chungha sighs and Sejeong’s heart drops when she feels the exhaustion behind Chungha’s sigh. “Heehyun will murder her for the broadcast. You’ll just get in her way.”

“I know, but I feel like – “

“Sejeong,” the way Chungha peers into her eyes – not just look, as it’s a level more intense – it makes her backspace her rebuttal, “stay with me…?”

And Chungha’s been making a point.

And she’s the true chum.

“Sorry,”

“Don’t be.” Chungha’s smile is forgiving. Sejeong feels elated, and, at the same time, guiltier than ever. “Let’s have something sweet. Then… I can tell you about the thing Nayoung said to me the other day.”

She lets her girlfriend lead the way this time, the two getting farther and farther from the school building. Time to stuff her face with sweets, charms her girlfriend to pay for her, and steals a kiss or two. It might lessen the uneasiness she’s going to get from Nayoung’s “encounter” with Heehyun.
 

It’s 7 PM. Ten minutes after arriving from her sweet-sweet date with Chungha, she’s faced with another patience-shaking predicament – Chaekyung’s having a drama marathon, which means right now she’s crying her heart out, and while the girl is pretty, her ugly crying is not.

“She slapped him! Ohhh god, ohhh god,” Chaekyung wails at the monitor of her laptop, the hug she has on the pillow on her lap tightens. “My HEART!”

And the one she’s watching isn’t even considered a well-plotted one. As a K-Drama elitist, Chaekyung’s picks disgust her to the bone, and Chaekyung’s live commentaries are puncturing her patience.

“DON’T WALK AWAYYYYY,” Chaekyung screams at the .vlc file playing. Sejeong quietly walks out of their shared room for the sake of her thinning patience.

Just outside her room, Nayoung’s five steps away, with a familiar lunch box in her hand. “Oh, Sejeong! Coincidence or fate?”

“Coincidence. Where are you going?” Nayoung’s room (her and Suhyun’s, to be exact) is on the fourth level while this is the second level, so it would be unusual for Nayoung to simply “wander around”, since lifts do exist.

“Was looking for you, actually. That’s why it’s fate.”

“Hmmm. Nope, coincidence.”

Nayoung sends a light shove to her shoulder and Sejeong laughs it off. The hallway’s oddly empty at the moment, so they’re free to do whatever.

“Aren’t you going to invite me to your room? Common courtesy, please,”

“You sure? Chaekyung’s on her drama marathon.”

“Oh.” That shuts Nayoung up as she frowns. “Okay then, here’s fine.”

“Mm? You’re not here to hand me back my lunchbox? …which I hope, is already washed clean?”

“Of course I washed it! Well… I’m gonna hand this back to you but I’m here for a friendly visit too.”

Not being able to talk in the room without gradually losing their sanity, Sejeong ushers Nayoung to join her on the carpeted floor, leaning against the wall separating the hallway and Sejeong-Chaekyung’s room. Nayoung looks rejuvenated when her hits the carpet.

“Today’s so tiring.”

“That’s cause you kept on picking a fight with Heehyun,” she eyes Nayoung, who has her eyes closed while she exhales slowly.

“Oh… well.”

“Can I ask you why?”

“Why why?”

“The fights with Heehyun. You asked for them. Heehyun’s actually pretty tame, it’s just that she has this slight dislike towards you, but you pouring salt all over her wound is definitely… hmmm.”

“Well, there’s this and that…”

“Mind to share your problems with me?”

Nayoung turns her head to face her, head lolling against the beige wall. “Do you have all week?”

Sejeong returns her bite with another. “Pretty sure it’ll only take ten minutes, tops.”

“Okay, so the problem isn’t on Heehyun.”

“Okay.”

“It’s personal.”

“Aw, can’t even share it with your best friend?”

Nayoung lets out a derisive laugh, and says in a much lower volume, “Especially you…”

It didn’t go unheard, but Sejeong will pry about it on another day. Right now she’s dying to talk about something else.

“So, Chungha told me about it. The thing you said in the arena, during your practical exam. And oh – how I was floored!”

“No. No no no.”

At the tense panic dripping from Nayoung’s voice, Sejeong’s lips tug upwards into a smile. “I didn’t expect my girlfriend to go Hulk over an ‘If I could land a bop on your nose, you’ll have to lend Sejeong to me for a night’, though. That was sweet of Chungha. Shame on you.”

“Ugh.”

“You deserved the beatdown, definitely! Glad she knocked you out.”

Nayoung sighs in resignation. “I had to, I mean, I couldn’t think of anything else. Chungha wouldn’t ‘go Hulk’ over Trump vs Clinton. You, however, is probably her Achilles heel.”

“Chungha is Hermes. She’s practically invisible.”

“Hah. Thanks for the info.”

“But seriously…”

“GIRL, DON’T LEAVE YOUR OPPAAAAAA! OH GOD WHY MUST IT RAIN NOW!?”

Sejeong ignores Chaekyung’s untimely drama livetweet, “… stop sending yourself to the Hospital Wing. Or Haebin. Or Jieqiong. Or any healer we have in girls’ side of the academy. When you hurt yourself,” she subconsciously puts a hand over her own chest, “I get this throbbing feeling. You know what I’m talking about.”

“Oh… right.”

“See? Plus, you know, obviously it’s not good for your body. What if your body grows immunity for healing techniques? Imagine dying. Must be unpleasant.”

Nayoung smiles at her, but it looks wry. Ten years knowing each other, Sejeong usually could read Nayoung like an open book, but this time… she isn’t sure herself.

Are they drifting apart?

“I don’t blindly pick fights. I’m weak, I’m not good at fighting, and I’m powerless. And I’m not suicidal; I wanna live till my old age.”

She doesn’t understand, so she scrunches her brows and reaches her hand out for Nayoung’s face, pulling a stray strand of baby hair to the back of Nayoung’s ear. “Then stop. Okay, I have zero idea on your good intention, but for the sake of you and me, stop.”

“Okay.” Nayoung laughs, light and easy. “After all, you’re forever with me stuck inside you.”

“True.”

“Oh goddd OPPA, SAY SOMETHIIIINGG! YOUR GIRL IS LEAVING OH MY GOD,”

“Good.” She uses the opportunity to retrieve her lunchbox from Nayoung’s lap. Silence seeps between them as they just stare into each other (while listening to each other’s breath, but this one might be just her) and while it’s nowhere near uncomfortable, Sejeong feels like the sentiment might be one-sided. “Then… I’ll be going, I guess.”

“SHE’S LEAVING!! GRAB HER HAND AND ASK HER TO STAYYYYY!”

Sejeong is halfway into standing position when Nayoung seizes her wrist, and there’s something Sejeong couldn’t quite pin down onto a word, clouding Nayoung’s gaze. Nayoung’s eyes are still warm. Just a tad cloudier with a chance of storm.

And in a voice lower than her usual, (and softer, and…) “Can you please stay with me?”
 

Notes: [1] I didn’t really like how this turned out… but I’ve planned something plot-y and a (hopefully) good fight in the next chapter. Thanks for reading and sticking with me!

[2] *ARMY voice* please read the last line in Namjoon’s voice like in Just One Day XD