Chaewon is a somewhat mean and Minjoo’s cheeks turn red. It always does, and it’s cute.

♡

The school doesn't have a lot of students, doesn't have wonderful buildings, the teachers are sort of y but it's sort of all right because you make good friends with people and Minjoo’s so glad there are friendly people because she is a bit too awkward at times.

Eyes round like the moon, she glances around for her class and wobbles at the entryway with the sign that reads "push" but you're meant to pull it — there's a girl with a crystal-like laugh looking at her when she manages it open. She knows that golden-brown like hair, somewhat boop-able nose, and those grinning eyes because she's seen them before, only the name is kind of above her head because everybody's looking and laughing and it's a little bit overwhelming.

Minjoo's never been exceptionally great at games nor any sports, however, she runs quick when she's got to hide her face and the embarrassment rolling off the sleeves of her shirt that’s a size too big.

♡

“I wish you would be sorry,” Minjoo mumbles over lunch seven days after. The signs on the door had been exchanged as a prank, an older student (Hyewon? she doesn’t remember exactly) had explained to her in the girl’s bathroom. It's something that people do because it's easy to pick on people who are easily nervous and Minjoo thinks she'd soon learn that.

Chaewon is sitting behind her in class and she likes to poke in between the shoulder blades. She likes to take that pen she tortures with the sweetest smile and drag it down Minjoo’s spine when the teacher asks her to read the next paragraph.

“I told you I was.” Lunch is rice with chicken in lemon sauce; Chaewon steals some from Minjoo’s plate. “I'm really sorry, I thought it would be funny. People usually go with the jokes, you just…” 

Minjoo swallows water hard as razorblades because she knows what's coming and she kind of hates it.

“You're just a little bit weird. You don't talk, you just turn pink and run and then I have to find you. The teacher got worried that one time you stormed off– ”

“You called me a milksop.”

“Not true, I said you're a soft-hearted girl. The text was about a soft-spoken, shy girl with milky skin and dark hair, how do you not see it happening?”

Because she's just a girl with weird emotions and she hates Chaewon and whatever it is she's got to say, when she sits behind her in class. Because everything Chaewon says is a bit of a joke and Minjoo never gets it and perhaps never will.

“Anyway I'm sorry,” Chaewon’s eyes roll pretty on her face. 

“Sure you are.”

Lunch is rice and chicken that taste a little bit of salt and Minjoo makes it a point not to disappear before she finishes her plate. 

♡

A woman's voice calls for everybody's attention and there are problems on the rails and delays are to be expected and we're very sorry blah blah blah please ask for further information at the reception are have a very good day.

Chaewon sits and sighs and she wonders how long is "we don't know" because nobody could tell her when the next train's due. She lets her backpack down in the dirt and wonders when her shoes turned that ugly shade of beige, she leans back and her head knocks something that's soft like cotton with bones underneath.

“Sorry–” she turns around only to catch red ears, Minjoo’s eyes wide and dark, and the girl is somewhat adorable when she hurries to look in the other direction. “Hey there's no need to... Come on are you still mad about yesterday?”

(Science class has been a quiet self-studying sort of thing where the teacher had paired everybody and Chaewon and Minjoo had been answering questions for about twenty minutes before the remarks and the usual things about Minjoo’s hands being smaller despite being taller than Chaewon and her wrists delicate and is that a mole let me poke that mole well aren't you adorable.)

“Well I have every right to be, don't I?” Minjoo looks at Chaewon sitting next to her, close? a little but not too much. It's still uncomfortable staring at a face like that, she thinks, because Chaewon’s hair always smells good and her eyes always smiling, almost laughing at her.

Minjoo wishes that the train would arrive the soonest because she feels so suffocated she might burst out anytime soon. All thanks to the girl beside her.

“I just said–”

“You're wrong, you did it! You kissed me and everybody saw and everybody laughed!”

Minjoo snaps.

And when she snaps, she does that little thing when she gets upset, her voice raises and then lowers in embarrassment because she knows people around are too bored not to pay attention to kids arguing. 

“It was your cheek. Nobody laughed.”

“I turned white, I yelled and pushed you, of course they laughed! They think I'm weird, they always do — they think it's funny to just stare and wait for me to do something stupid, and because you always make it happen then they just know — they wait for it always. And you still think it's okay?”

Chaewon rubs her  neck, scratches that spot just behind her ear, maybe recognizing what's wrong with all of what she does though she doesn't admit it. She’s not that dumb.

“I can't help it okay?”

Minjoo’s lips part a little, air suddenly too rare and it's definitely the worse thing there is to say but Chaewon did it anyway.

“So you like making everyday a joke? You like making fun of me and you think it's okay to make everybody think I'm a loser? A milksop?”

Hands shoving her away, Chaewon never thought Minjoo could have it in her: push her away and storm off once more. Maybe she goes a little too far sometimes, maybe she could go as far as going back on what she said and be honest this time but she watches Minjoo’s back down the stairs, she imagines her rushing out the train station and she sighs.

“You're just so damn adorable when you're at your limits,” she says and everything's muffled by the woman's voice announcing a train that doesn't stop, please stand away from the yellow line, this train does not stop at this station.

♡

Chaewon is oozing with confidence most of the times, always standing tall amongst the crowd but still young at heart and she's not too sure how much of a kid she is when Minjoo’s mother opens the door.

“Hello,” she fumbles over words that she repeated in her head perhaps ten or twenty times. “I just– I'm in the same class as Minjoo and… I thought…”

She contemplates disclosing to Ms. Kim how she's sorry her daughter missed three days of school (not coun