Taeyeon wasn't sure when it had become such a burden.

When the title of the group leader had fallen around her neck over two years ago, she had worn it like a medal. She was aware that theirs was a big group. Everything they had they were to divide between the nine of them. Money, fame, recognition, compliments, love. As rookies, there hadn’t seemed to be enough of any of those in the first place. Any label that could help them stand out and scrape for a little more attention than the meager one-ninth was precious. Main vocalist, main dancer, the pretty one, the funny one, tallest, shortest, cutest, fairest, darkest, maknae, leader - anything was better than simply ‘that girl from SNSD’.

If only Taeyeon had known that it was not just a title. SNSD was full of strong personalities, and even the maknae was more than capable of piloting herself on and off-stage, as long as everything was smooth-sailing. But, the moment something went wrong, all eyes fell on her, Taeyeon, the leader. Expectant eyes, demanding eyes, questioning eyes, that soon turned into disappointed eyes when it became clear Taeyeon had no wise leadership to offer them. Taeyeon always thought too much, took too long to decide even the simplest things, and showed too little conviction when she finally did something. It was usually only much later that Taeyeon came up with a proper solution in her head, lying awake at night wishing she had done the right thing when it still mattered.

“Let’s not have anything like a leader anymore.” She had admitted defeat that day, crushing her pride and laying the pieces bare for all of them to see.

“Hasn’t it always been like that?”

Had it? Taeyeon played catch with the question in her head whenever she free time to think. It became almost like a go-to past-time for her. She hadn’t figured out a definite answer yet. On the one hand, the members definitely had a point. It was clear to herself she had neither the skills nor vision to be a good leader. Any one of the rest would have done a better job than her, and they had indeed been stepping up from time to time when she herself proved incapable.

But if that was true, that there had never been a leader in the first place, then why did their eyes always fall on her?

“No no no, Sooyoung-ssi, Choi Sooyoung-ssi, that’s not cute enough,” the tall Shikshin mimicked their ‘Godfather’ music producer, pushing her lower jaw forward and speaking in a slow drawl, “Squeeze your voice some more. You sound about eight years old right now. You need to sound five. From the top. Action!”

The circle of girls burst into laughter at the accurate imitation. Hyoyeon nearly choked on her kimchi fried rice, and even Seohyun, who normally disliked talking behind people’s back, was shaking with a restrained chuckle.

“Ish dis kewt enoof, produsher-nim?” Yoona conjured her annoying baby voice for the occasion, causing the laughter to intensify. She then turned to Sunny, who had started covering her ears. “Unnieeeee, tell me I’m kewt.”

Sunny let the younger girl harass her for a while longer before turning to her and transforming into the same producer with the prominent lower jaw. “Yoona-ssi, Im Yoona-ssi, I’m not pleased. You still sound three years old at least. I want a new-born infant crying in the delivery room. Take two!”

Hyoyeon immediately fell to the floor and pretended to be a baby throwing a tantrum while crying out the chorus of their newest title song. It was so sudden and perfectly off-tune that the rest couldn’t help but shrieked and guffawed.

Taeyeon did her best to laugh along with them, but she didn’t find humour in the situation the way they did. She had had a horrible time in the studio today. She hated the producer for forcing them to record each line a dozen times until they sounded enough like obnoxious toddlers, even though they were all young adults in their own rights. She hated the song, to begin with. Its cringey lyrics and simplistic melodies. But, above all, she hated how she couldn’t do anything about it on their behalf, no matter how much they all despised it.

The dinner dragged out for two hours, since they were too distracted from eating by all the antics of the main jokers. When they finally finished and Yuri asked whose turn it was to do the dishes, Taeyeon raised her hand even though she wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be her. She just needed some time off from the girls. It was a horrible thing to wish for, she knew, because not all groups were lucky enough to be so close like SNSD, but the girls were a little too much sometimes. Taeyeon missed having her own room, a private space to indulge in her selfish ways, and not having to care about someone else for just a while.

Alone at the kitchen sink, Taeyeon focused on the repetitive circular motion of her sponge on the plates and brought the calming sound of flowing water to the front of her mind, letting the other girls’ voices fade into background noise. Without the conversations and jokes to distract her, Taeyeon became acutely aware of the headache she had been having for days, but at least she could wince now without someone asking her what was wrong every five seconds.

“Hey.”

She almost dropped a plate in surprise. The voice was accompanied by a pair of hands grabbing the next plate in the sink and starting to soap it. Taeyeon would recognise Jessica’s voice anywhere, but she had to turn to check just in case her ears were fooling her.

“Sica?”

“One would think you’ll be more confident at identifying your members after two years of living together,” the taller girl quipped, sending a Taeyeon a playful smile before returning her attention to the plate in her hands.

“You hate doing dishes.”

“I do. As much as you hate talking about your feelings. Yet here I am.”

“Is that what this is?” Taeyeon picked up one of the large bowls and continued scrubbing. “I have no feelings to talk about.”

“You’re upset.”

“You’re making random claims.”

“Oh come on. I could tell, when we were making fun of the producer. You know, you have a really obvious fake laugh.”

“Sounds like I’m not cut out to be an idol,” Taeyeon half-joked and Jessica half-chuckled in response.

“What was it, Taeyeon? ” Jessica stilled her hands’ motion, and Taeyeon could tell she was staring at her from the side but Taeyeon didn’t attempt to make eye contact. “We were just joking around but you seemed so stiff the whole time.

“I don’t know. I guess I found Hyoyeon’s aegyo rather disturbing?”

Jessica sighed instead of laughing as Taeyeon had hoped. The taller girl reached over and switched off the tap over the plate Taeyeon was rinsing. Taeyeon rolled her eyes and turned it on, only for Jessica to cut the water again and held the tap in place this time.

“Real mature, Sica. It’s gonna be dawn when we finish these dishes.”

“I can’t care less about the dishes. I need you to take me more seriously when I’m asking you a question.”

Taeyeon finally looked up from the sink. The eyes that she met weren’t demanding or - worse - pitying. They were stern, but patient.

“It’s nothing serious,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant, “It’s just we haven’t had the best day at the studio, and I wish I had done something about it.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Something. Like, this is supposed to be our group, and that’s supposed to be our song, but all we got to do was what they told us to do, and we all hated it, but I didn’t say anything to the producer. I just kept quiet.”

Jessica furrowed her meticulously plucked brows in partial comprehension. “Okay? I mean, no one else said anything about it either, not just you.”

“No, but it’s not just that. It keeps happening. Last week, Yuri’s top ripped on stage, all I did was panic and miss a few dance steps, while Sunny quickly switched positions with her so that Yuri danced at the back instead. And two months ago, when they packed us a ridiculous schedule, it was Tiffany who came up with alternative and got us a much needed half-day off. I, again, did nothing. You see a pattern emerging there?”

“Why can’t it be Sunny or Tiffany who saves the day? Why does it have to be you?” Jessica’s voice was gaining a provocative edge.

“Because I was supposed to be…” Taeyeon caught herself. She left the sentence hanging and shook her head, switching on the tap again to rinse the plate she had been clutching.

Jessica, though, didn't seem to have any intention of letting her off the hook. “What? Because you were supposed to be the leader?”

Taeyeon grimaced at the trigger-word and was grateful her face was hidden from Jessica by her hair. The pounding in her head was getting worse. All she wanted was a quiet moment with the water and the dishes, but apparently that was too much to ask. Close as she was to lashing out, Taeyeon knew Jessica meant well and didn’t want to take it out on her. She just hoped Jessica wouldn’t continue pushing her too far.

“I know I kinda quit the job, but that didn’t change much. I still think the same way. Bad habit, I guess. I just wish someone else had been given the title in the first place. Anyone else would have been better than me.”

“You really think so?”

“Absolutely. It should have been someone charismatic and good with people. Like Sooyoung or Hyoyeon or Sunny.” Taeyeon’s scrubbing grew lethargic as she recited the same old thoughts she had been having for as long as she had been stuck with the title ‘leader’. “Maknae would have done wonderfully too. Obviously. Or Yoona, everyone loves her. And you, you don’t talk a lot but when you do, people know you mean serious stuff and they listen.  Yuri is open and we basically trust her with our lives. Fany is determined and she’s never afraid to fight for us. Gosh, I was supposed to take care of Fany but she’s been much better than me dealing with all this.”

For long moments, Jessica remained so quiet besides her that Taeyeon thought she had left at some point during her rant. But then hands appeared and snatched another dirty plate from the pile, so fast and sudden Taeyeon almost jumped back.

“This is the whole problem, Taeyeon.” Jessica punctuated her words with forceful swipes across her plate. “You’re so…”

Taeyeon held her breathe in anticipation. Whiny? Negative? Bottled-up?

“Self-centered.” The words streamed out of Jessica in one exasperated rush of air.

Taeyeon’s hands stopped, her grip tight on the edges of the large ceramic plate they had used to hold the soba earlier. She fixed her eyes on the flow of water going to waste down the drain. She usually dealt decently well with criticism, because whatever bad things they had to say about her, she had probably thought about herself at some point. But ‘self-centered’ struck a nerve, especially when she couldn’t think of a single day in the past two years that she had not thought about the rest of SNSD, when she had forgotten how to feel happy about getting a song or a dance right if there was just one other girl struggling with their part. It was as if Jessica had intentionally selected the word she knew would wound Taeyeon the most.

“You’re right,” Taeyeon mumbled, hearing her own voice grow cold, “I do hate talking about my feelings, and this is why.”

“I never want to hurt your feelings, Taeyeon.” Jessica was quick to clarify, and she had stopped ferociously scrubbing her plate. “What I meant was, you are so fixed in your perspective, you don’t see how the situation looks from others’ points of view. Look, Tiffany doesn’t need to be taken care of, at least not any more so than the average person. You keep thinking about what you need to do for us, but what about what we actually need?”

They finished up the last few dishes in mutual silence. Taeyeon munched over Jessica’s words, wishing she had enough energy to keep feeling angry or offended, but the words carried no poison and they just made Taeyeon feel more lost than anything else. After she dried her hands with the kitchen towel, Taeyeon sat down at the counter, her body groaning for rest but her mind buzzing. Jessica picked the seat next to her rather than the one opposite, and sat regarding her with careful eyes.

“What do you guys need, then?” Taeyeon asked, too drained to beat around the bush.

“Well.” Jessica looked thoughtful, her fingers laced together on the countertop. “Sometimes, we don’t need to change things that can’t be changed. Sometimes, we just need to sit around and complain about ty things that have happened, like today. And, think about it this way, if Hyoyeon were to be our leader, we’d spend at least half of our practices goofing off. At least. Tiffany and Yuri would drag us head-first into different varieties of crazy stuff. Soonkyu would be too assertive and we’d suffocate. Those girls, they need someone to slow them down. And you might not believe me, but you’ve been doing a pretty good job at that. Because they feel obliged to consider your thought-out input as the official leader, they have time to reconsider their impulses.”

Taeyeon didn’t comment on that. She needed time to process. It had never occurred to her that her delay in offering opinions had had any positive angle to it in the slightest. The idea seemed foreign to her, as if Jessica had been speaking in a language she did not understand.

“And the rest?”

“The way I see it, Sooyoungie is smart and all, but also helplessly softhearted. Yoona and Juhyun, people don’t really listen to them because they’re younger and a little reserved in their own ways. They all need someone to pull them along when they’re unsure and then step back and let them speak when the time is right. That description reminds you of someone?”

The weight in Taeyeon’s chest was lightening, and she started to breath easier. It was like each of Jessica’s sentences was a balm for a sore etched so deeply into Taeyeon’s body she had been convinced no one could ever touch it. She didn’t know if all of the girls felt the same way or not, but at the moment, it was enough knowing she wasn’t a disappointment to Jessica alone. It was a nice thought to hold onto and steady herself against, even if she wasn’t convinced she was all that Jessica had said she was.

“What about you, Sica?”

“Me?” The taller girl tucked her hair behind her ear so it wouldn’t obstruct her vision, and Taeyeon’s eyes lingered on her face a beat too long. Jessica was beautiful on stage, but to Taeyeon she looked even better like this, makeup-free, messy hair, kitchen light and casual wear.

“Yeah. What do you need?”

Jessica pondered for a moment, before turning her palms up to indicate the general atmosphere around them. “This, I guess. What we’ve been doing.”

The smile that she gave Taeyeon then was small but so sweet that Taeyeon couldn’t help but return it.

“What we’ve been doing. Noted.” Taeyeon nodded. “I’ll make sure to allocate more dish-washing duty to you.”

“Way to ruin the moment, Taengoo.” Jessica sent her a sideways shove.

“Taengoo?” Taeyeon ensured her voice carried the multiple exclamation marks and question marks she was having in her head.

“Yup. I came up with that just earlier today. Isn’t it a cute nickname, Taengoo-yah?”

Taeyeon made a grand show of displaying her disgust, sticking her tongue out and scrunching her face. “Too cute for me.”

“It’s not. Have you looked at yourself?”

“You’re greasy, Sica. Just like your deep-fried ham.”

“Hey, I was giving you a compliment. What’s wrong with a cute nickname?”

“Nothing, if it’s the right person. But Taengoo sounds like this little kid who you have to feed and protect and take care of or something.”

“Maybe… Maybe you do need to be taken care of, Taengoo. At least not any less so than the average person.”

Taeyeon had barely had time to think about what Jessica meant, when the taller girl leaned slightly towards her and her hands went to either sides of Taeyeon’s head. Her heart leaped in a brief moment of something between panic and anticipation, before Jessica’s fingertips started to press against her temples and scalp. The deliberate movements told Taeyeon Jessica must have done this many times. With each press and release, the remnants of Taeyeon’s headache seeped out and dissipated, after a full week of haunting her. With each press and release, Taeyeon was reminded that not only fame and income, but any burden of theirs  was split nine ways too. She realised then that Jessica had a gift that few people had, and she felt so blessed that Jessica decided to share it with her.

A long way down the road, when everything had changed for the two of them, and when Taeyeon had forgotten that day in the kitchen had ever happened, she would still feel an inexplicable but deep sense of comfort whenever someone called her Taengoo.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading as always guys! Sorry if this isn't as fluffy as you might expect, but then again Taengsic should be a synonym for angst or something :P Till next we meet, faithful shippers.