Note: Some relatively strong language. If that's a thing you don't like, now you know.

Her legs were dry. Not attractive in the slightest. Clenching her stomach tight, Moonbyul lifted her back from her mattress and, with great effort, extended her arms to reach her elevated ankle. Chancing a quick glance at the recently closed bathroom door, the senior hastily tried scratching away some of the flakes of dead skin, but it was to no avail—the more she scratched, the more patches of dried skin appeared. Ugh. This was the excitement her days were filled with now.

Dramatically flopping back down, she lamented how physically draining those few seconds were. It had only been three days yet Byul felt that the level of fitness she’d worked decades to achieve had already almost completely evaporated. The simplest things now required so much energy. It was maddening.

Instinctively fishing her cell phone out of the covers, Moonbyul felt instantly comforted by the deluge of notifications that filled her screen, almost all from a picture posted hours ago on Instagram—it was flattering that comments and likes were still flooding in.

The idea for the image was born from boredom and maybe, just maybe, the slightest desire to be fed endless amounts of virtual affection—her sense of self had been dangerously fragile these past few days. In the picture, taken from her point of view, Byulyi laid on her back—as she had been doing every day since the injury—wearing only a sports bra with a hand tucked just under the elastic waistband of her sweatpants. Her right leg elevated on a pile of pillows and her bare stomach visible to all, the athlete crafted what she thought an appropriately playful caption:

_{5,003 likes}

byulyi Someone come take care of me, please 🥺

^{View all 3,000 comments}

Now fully clothed, she laid with an arm behind her head and enjoyed the comments, almost exclusively from strangers. They did not disappoint:

akdhs847 Pls me. My husband doesn’t have an Instagram. Pls.

ghostacct My wife so y 😍

anon I think I’m lesbian now.

noname3 I just want you to tell me happy birthday!

          byulyi @noname3 Happy birthday! 😘

oldacct @byulyi It’s my birthday, too! I just want to spend a night with you!

          byulyi @oldacct Happy birthday! 😂

shflwi Call me old-fashioned, but I was raised to take care of my woman. Make her plate every night. Wash her clothes for her. Always have a clean house for her to come home to.

random7 Pick up my calls, answer my texts, our kids miss you.

HiHello Who did this to you? I just want to talk to them.

sarah I KNOW her strap is big. I just KNOW it.

finsta21 Stuff me.

wkblfan88 Please have your way with me. I’m begging.

Her social media accounts had steadily been gaining attention since the summer. For the most part, Byul didn’t mind it. Their outlandish responses were hilarious. It wasn’t as if any of these people were being serious; hyperbole was the point of social media, it’s what made the interactions fun. Not everyone seemed to understand that, though:

yongsun *turns around and heads back to my apartment*

          byulyi @yongsun No! Turn back around and head to MY apartment 🥺

yongsun @byulyi Plenty of others are volunteering to take care of you. You’re in good hands.

byulyi @yongsun They’re joking 😩

yongsun @byulyi 🙄

byulyi @yongsun See you soon 🥰

Yongsun was so cute. She chose the most random things to be sensitive about at times, yes, but she was cute nonetheless. No matter what the graduate student said, Moonbyul knew she was on her way over. The two had practically been joined at the hip since Yongsun’s arrival at the hospital on Wednesday.

Smiling wistfully, Byul remembered the scene upon returning to her hospital room. She had been off getting tests done before the nurse accompanying her finally wheeled her back to her room. Hushed conversations among her friends ended immediately, transforming into frantic worry and fussing over her, even though she’d let them all know that her injury did not seem as serious as she’d first assumed it was. Yongsun, the last to arrive, easily outmatched Wheein, Hyejin, and Heeyeon when it came to concern. The oldest opted to spend the night at the hospital with Moonbyul—maybe it was guilt over coming late, maybe it was genuine concern, but whatever it was, Byulyi was grateful. The two had spent almost every free moment together since. Today was the first time they’d spent more than a few hours apart, and that was only because Yongsun had chores to take care of. Byulyi missed her.

To: Yong

You’re still coming, right? 5:11 pm

From: Yong

Yeah. 5:11 pm

To: Yong

When? 5:11 pm

From: Yong

Secret 5:12 pm

To: Yong

Don’t play with my emotions like that.

But okay. Excited to see you whenever you get here🤗 5:12 pm

Gosh, she was being clingy, but it couldn’t be helped. The more time they spent together, the happier she felt, and that was not an emotion she had expected to experience while nursing an injury that had her on the shelf for at least the next two months.

“Unnie, what were you laughing so hard at a few minutes ago? And why are you smiling at your phone like that?” Yooa asked as she exited Moonbyul’s bathroom.

As was customary since the accident, Byul had a revolving door of visitors. Yooa’s schedule on Thursday and Friday didn’t allow for a visit, but the third‑year made up for it by spending hours today with Byulyi.

“I was laughing at some of the comments on my latest IG picture.”

“Wait, you posted something? Hold on– , unnie! Why would you post that?” The Political Science student gently slapped Moonbyul’s shoulder as she reoccupied the bedside chair earlier vacated.

“It’s funny,” the older of the two exclaimed, her nose muscles scrunching endearingly as she smiled impishly.

“You know exactly what you’re doing when you post things like this.”

“Cut me some slack, I’m stuck in this bed another two days. I wanted some attention,” Byul pouted.

“At least you admit that you’re an attention .” Before the athlete could refute that, Yooa changed the direction of their conversation, “Anyway, how exactly does this high ankle sprain work? What happens next once you’re not stuck in bed?”

High ankle sprains were tricky. Treatment and recovery depended heavily on the severity of the injury. The medical professionals consulted thus far believed hers to be a Grade 2 high ankle sprain, moderate. Staring at the black walking boot covering her right foot, Moonbyul explained to Yooa the expected recovery plan: after being allowed off bedrest, she’d start intense physical therapy, splitting her time between Yujin and Kwon Jihun. The first 4-6 weeks would focus on strengthening the ankle and all other ligaments and muscles around it. The rest of her time after that would look to prepare her for a return to basketball.

“You have to work with both of them?” Yooa asked, voice colored with surprise.

“Yup. I’m going to die.”

“Yikes. They’ll work you hard but, on the bright side, they may be able to get you back sooner than expected.”

“With the way the team played last night, I’m not too sure my presence is even needed,” Byul joked.

SNU’s Women’s Basketball Team had an away game the night before. It was a blowout, a complete victory. If someone didn’t know better, they’d never have guessed the team was without its captain and star player. The experience was a humbling one for Moonbyul—the team didn’t need her to win. And while it stung a bit to feel as if it didn’t matter much if she was present or not, the team’s success without her was enlightening. Seoul National University would always recruit the nation’s most talented athletes. Success at SNU did not start and stop with Moon Byulyi. She was still part of the team, and after rehabbing her ankle, she’d return and they’d most likely continue winning, but they’d probably win almost all of their games over the next couple months without her, too. Because that’s what SNU did. SNU were winners. Post-Moon Byulyi, SNU would continue to be winners. But who was Moon Byulyi post-SNU? Once she left the prestigious university, would she still be a winner? Would she still be as feared and respected of a player as she currently was? Was she still an athlete capable of imposing her will on a basketball game as easily as she did in college? She didn’t know, but she wanted to. Byulyi needed to know if she could be all of those things still. If she would be all of those things still.

Those questions became seeds planted in the pit of her stomach, subsequently blooming into a personal quest to prove to herself that Moon Byulyi the basketball star wasn’t a farce. She had to prove to herself that she wasn’t great because of SNU, that she was great because of her own faculties, her own abilities, her own skills.

“Oh please, unnie. Every single one of us would sell ourselves to get you back,” Yooa pulled her back to the present.

“That’s a bit dark, don’t you think?”

She and Yooa spent a few moments laughing at that before moving on to something else. Moonbyul didn’t want to discuss her ankle, so she shifted the conversation to Yooa and what was going on in the younger’s life.

Byulyi never expected to grow as close to Yooa as she did. Their relationship, through and through, resembled that of an older and younger sister. Yooa was a smart young woman that doubted herself far too often for Moonbyul’s liking. Her sweet nature made Byul want to protect and guide her. She was so kind and her first inclination was always to give people the benefit of the doubt. While she admired that quality, Byulyi knew there would be people looking to take advantage of that. As the captain of the team, and as a decent person who wanted all of her teammates to do well—no matter what Yooa said, she was a part of the team—the senior looked after Yooa a little bit extra. It wasn’t an indictment on the young woman’s ability to take care of herself, it was just the older sibling in Byulyi taking effect.

The team manager was in the middle of a thrilling tale about how incompetent one of her professors was when Moonbyul placed a hand up to stop her. There was definitely sound coming from the kitchen.

“Yong? Yong? Is that you?” She yelled.

She could tell Yooa was confused, but when Yongsun answered seconds later, Moonbyul saw understanding dawn on the younger girl’s face.

“Yeah!”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were here?!”

“I literally just got in a few seconds ago, Byulyi!” The blonde stormed into the room. “Didn’t even have a second to catch my breath before you started calling for me.”

“Hi, Yong. How was your day? I missed you,” Byul cheekily, but truthfully, countered Yongsun’s clear annoyance.

“Don’t talk to me,” Yongsun rolled her eyes. “Hi, Yooa. Sorry about that. How are you?”

“I’m fine, unnie. Do you want to sit here?” The black-haired junior had already began offering the seat to Yongsun when her offer was politely declined.

“No, thank you. I’m heading to the kitchen soon anyway.”

“What’s in the bag?”

Yongsun had entered the room with a giant, white plastic bag.

“Pillows. Because you can’t keep using the throw pillows from the living room to prop your foot up. That’s not what they’re there for.”

Yongsun was preoccupied with situating the bag in the corner next to Byul’s desk, so she missed the warm smile her words put on the brunette’s face. Even as she followed Yongsun’s movements with her eyes and held the smile on her face, Moonbyul felt Yooa’s eyes on her. The moment the two were left alone, Yooa would interrogate her.

“Did you take your medication for the swelling?” The graduate student placed the four pillows she’d purchased on the bed next to Byul’s feet and gently lifted the injured leg as she replaced the living room pillows with the new ones.

“No,” Moonbyul guiltily admitted. The resulting glare sent her way was terrifying.

“Did you eat?”

“No,” she looked away.

“So . . . what did you do all day?”

“Yooa and I were hangi–”

“Don’t put Yooa in this. Yooa came to visit you. It’s not her job to baby you and make sure you do all the things you’re supposed to do so that your ankle gets better. It’s not Yooa’s ankle that’s injured. It’s yours.”

Byul wanted so badly to point out how, as she was preaching about it not being other people’s job to baby and take care of her, Yongsun was babying and taking care of her. But Yongsun seemed tightly wound—it wasn’t the right time to make jokes. She’d try to get to the root of the issue later that night.

“Sorry.” They held each other’s gaze for a few seconds before Yongsun sighed deeply and looked away.

Raking a hand through her tousled locks, the graduate student calmed down some. “It’s fine. I’m going to put these back in the living room and then I’ll order dinner. Yooa, are you going to stay and eat with us?”

“It’s okay, unnie. I don’t want to impose,” she nervously responded. Byulyi found it funny how tense the team manager got around Yongsun.

“It’s not imposing. Just stay. It’s the least we could offer for spending the day with Byulyi.”

“I’m actually fun to hang out with, you know.”

“Be quiet,” Yongsun easily silenced her. “I’m still annoyed with you.”

She did not need to be told twice.

“Ah, okay. Thank you, unnie. I’ll stay.”

“Good. Since you’re a guest, you should choose what we eat. Have Byul text me when you decide what you want. Byul-ah, is Heeyeon coming back tonight?”

“Yeah, but she told me she needs to shut herself in and study, so she likely won’t be socializing with us much.”

“I’ll order for her, too, then. If you need me, I’ll be in the living room working on a final paper.”

Her departure left the room in silence.

When she heard the living room television turn on and was certain that Yongsun was out of earshot, Moonbyul burst into giggles, muffling the sound by covering with both hands.

“You’re so scared of her,” she barely managed to get out in between her laughter.

“She’s intimidating!” Yooa aggressively whispered. “There’s this no-nonsense aura about her. It makes me feel like I have to be on my best behavior at all times.”

“You weren’t like that when I introduced the two of you in the locker room.”

“I was exhausted, unnie. I was barely awake, but now? Yeah . . .”

“She’s nice,” Byul reassured her. “Very nice. And soft and goofy and supportive. Yong’s one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met.”

“And you’re not just saying that because you like her?” Yooa smirked and quirked an eyebrow.

“No, I’m not just saying that because I like her.” They were speaking low enough that she knew it would be impossible for Yongsun to hear.

“So you admit that you like her?”

“Yeah,” Byul shrugged nonchalantly. “There isn’t much point in denying it. It’s pretty obvious to everyone except for her.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t know, too? You lay it on very thick. Not to be disrespectful, but she’d have to be very dense to not realize it.”

“Don’t underestimate her,” Byul smiled sadly.

This wasn’t the first time the basketball star had had this conversation over the past few weeks. It was clear to most that she’d upped her efforts to make her feelings known to the older woman, but what almost everyone was unsure of was whether Yongsun realized these efforts.

“Aww. You could just confess. There wouldn’t be much confusion about things after that.”

“That’s also an option,” she noncommittally acknowledged Yooa’s suggestion.

“It may be for the best. If you just tell her and put it out there, then you’ll know for sure how she feels, and you can move on from there. What’s that look on your face for? It really would be for the best. Plus, I think she has feelings for you, too.”

“Other people have said that, and sometimes it feels like that, but then I don’t know if I’m confusing her being a friend with her liking me.”

“She’s here nursing you back to health, unnie.”

“She’s my best friend. That’s what best friends do.”

“You have other best friends, too, though. They check on you and make sure you’re okay, but they didn’t completely drop their lives in the middle of finals season to wait on you hand and foot.”

Byul explained earlier to Yooa that Yongsun had stayed over since the accident. If it wasn’t for classes or work, the graduate student was with her in the apartment.

“Yeah, I guess. She’s kind of seeing someone though.”

Quickly Moonbyul explained the Seungyeon situation as well as she could. There were still major gaps when it came to understanding what exactly was going on between Yongsun and the other woman, but she shared what she knew. It wasn’t as if she took pleasure in divulging all of this information, but Byul was swept up in the conversation, in dire need of advice from anyone that would spare some, and looking for something other than her throbbing ankle to think about.

“Hmm,” Yooa pursed her lips in thought. “That can be confusing. But people can like more than one person at a time. They may be hooking up, but you and Yongsun-unnie are very close. The two of you aren’t physical in that way, but there’s intimacy there and an obvious chemistry. She came in and immediately made herself comfortable; it’s like this is her apartment too,” Yooa laughed. “I think that counts for a lot.”

“You’re pumping me with a ton of confidence right now,” the athlete admitted. The way Yooa spoke made it seem as if it was impossible for Yongsun not to like her back.

“I’m just telling you what I see, and what I see is that the two of you have some couple-like tendencies. In the way you both act around each other, at least. Very domestic. It’s cute.”

It couldn’t be helped, Byulyi felt her face growing warm, a blush no doubt spreading across her face.

“Look how cute you are,” Yooa pinched her face.

“Be quiet!” The older of the pair whined.

“Byul-ah!” Yongsun’s voice echoed from the living room.

“What?!” The athlete yelled back.

“Hurry up and text me the order!”

“You could’ve just texted me that instead of yelling at me to text it!”

“Just text me the order!”

“See?” Yooa pointed out. “Domestic.”

*

Yooa stayed a couple more hours to eat dinner with Byul and Yongsun. Thankfully, as the time passed, it seemed the third-year saw truth in what Moonbyul had said about Yongsun. She loosened up and began chatting more comfortably with the graduate student who Byulyi knew for a fact was oblivious to Yooa’s initial hesitance.

As the clock ticked closer and closer to Yooa’s departure, Byul grew more and more excited. Heeyeon made her cameo appearance to greet the group and grab her food before scurrying to her bedroom, presumably for the rest of the night. Once Yooa followed suit, it would be just Moonbyul and Yongsun, and the senior could not wait!

She craved alone time with her best friend. Her body was itching for it. Their other friends made jokes about the two of them cuddling, but very few knew about what else went on between them. It wasn’t just holding Yongsun that instantly improved the athlete’s day, it was everything. They shared music with each other, discussed their insecurities, debated memes, scrolled through social media sites together, they did it all. Even if they simply shared the same space and each did their own thing, it was comfortable. It felt right. It was a good partnership.

From: Yooa

Unnie, make it more obvious that you want me to leave 😂 8:36 pm

Yongsun was cleaning up in the kitchen only steps away, so it made sense to her that Yooa texted instead of speaking out loud. They looked up from their phones at the same time and caught each other’s eyes before both choked back laughter.

To: Yooa

😅8:36 pm

From: Yooa

Got it. I’ll get going. Have fun 😂 8:36 pm

“Yongsun-unnie, thank you for dinner!” Yooa announced as she stood from the couch.

“You’re heading out already?” The blonde finished wiping down the counters.

“Yeah. I’m supposed to meet up with some friends tonight.”

Byulyi didn’t know if it was true, but she wasn’t going to question it. She and Yongsun said their goodbyes to the young woman and then, finally, they were alone.

Going to the room first, the athlete’s upper arms burned as she crutched her way to the bedroom and got settled on her bed—thank goodness it wasn’t as high as Yongsun’s. Not long later, the other woman entered, her first order of business being to tend to Moonbyul’s leg and make sure it was adjusted properly. Everything was done with such care as to not cause Byulyi pain. The brunette’s heart swelled with gratitude.

“Hey,” she spoke out suddenly and softly.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for taking care of me.” For once, she put the jokes aside. The moment didn’t call for them.

“Of course,” Yongsun softly replied, giving a couple gentle pats the walking boot that was now properly balanced on the pile of pillows beneath it. Moonbyul watched as she carefully climbed onto the bed, flopped onto her side of the mattress, and stared up at the ceiling.

“Tired?”

“Very.”

Pulling Yongsun closer, she tried to keep the conversation going. “Want to talk about it? You seemed stressed when you arrived earlier.”

“I am stressed,” she snuggled into Byul’s left side.

“Talk to me about it.” Thankfully, Yongsun did. For the next quarter of an hour, Moonbyul tried to be as supportive and encouraging as she could be by wrapping her left arm around the woman clinging to her and doing nothing else but listening. Yongsun vented about finals and all the loose odds and ends that needed to be wrapped up before the term’s end. There was a lot on her plate, driving home for Byulyi just how much of a sacrifice it was for Yongsun to be here right now instead of holed up in her own apartment.

“As much as I love seeing you every day, you should take more time for yourself, Yong. Finals are hectic. I need you to finish up strong,” Byul rubbed soothing circles on the smaller woman’s shoulders. It would to not see her best friend as often, but the last thing she wanted was for Yongsun’s schooling to be negatively affected.

“It’s okay. I like being here with you. It helps me take my mind off things.”

“Oh. Okay.” She thought that was going somewhere more sentimental, but this was fine, too.

“And, obviously, I enjoy your presence. You know that.”

“I didn’t, actually, but thank you for telling me.”

“You already knew that, you just like having your ego .”

“Speaking of things . . .”

“Don’t.”

“How’s Chorong?”

“You’re an idiot! I can’t believe you just said that.” For all her protests about the segue, Yongsun let out a hearty laugh and shared much more detail than necessary about her roommate and the guy she was dating.

“Good for her! I’m going through a serious drought so, for the first time ever, I can’t talk . I have nothing bad to say.”

It was a risky move. A bold move. For everything that they shared with each other, Byulyi was well aware of the gulf between them when it came to discussing their romantic lives. Too many of their fights stemmed from miscommunication around, or avoidance of, the topic. She didn’t like it. And she liked even less that she was the biggest reason that gap in communication existed in the first place. If she wanted them to be more, they had to talk about that stuff. Even if they ended up staying only friends, it would be nice to normalize them talking about this stuff.

The senior was also just very ing curious about what was happening in that part of Yongsun’s life. Because things were clearly happening.

“A drought? Really?”

“Yes, really. Why do you sound so skeptical? You make it seem as if it’s ridiculous to think I could be in a drought,” she playfully poked Yongsun.

“It’s not that,” the older woman smiled at the pokes, “I just don’t really understand why you’d be in a drought. You could have your pick of whoever. There were plenty volunteers under that picture earlier.”

“Those were strangers making funny comments for the sake of being funny. I wouldn’t put the moves on any of them. If I knew them in person, maybe, but not some stranger. What do you take me for?” When met with silence, she chuckled nervously and added, “Never mind. I don’t want to know what you take me for.”

Suddenly, Yongsun propped herself up on her elbows, eyes full of intrigue it seemed.

“What?”

“What are your moves? You said you wouldn’t put moves on strangers, but say you met someone in real life that you liked, what would you do? How does the infamous Moon Byulyi make a move on someone?”

Her face was turning red. She knew her face was turning red.

“I don’t have any moves,” the athlete shyly announced, voice deep and low.

“I don’t believe it.”

“Why would I lie? I’m telling you, if it’s someone I really like, I don’t have any ‘moves’. I’m actually a mess when it comes to that. I’m horrible at it.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Why?” Byul asked. For the briefest moment, her eyes fell to the older woman’s lips before shooting back up to her face. Luckily, Yongsun was staring off in space, deep in thought.

“I don’t know,” the blonde drawled, “you just don’t strike me as the type to get nervous in situations like that. You’re too smooth for that. I feel like you’d take control and be assertive.”

“With someone I really like, that’s the opposite of me. I get shy and indecisive. Have recently been trying to be better at that though.”

“Why? Is there someone you like?”

Caught off guard by that question, the senior cleared several times and waited until her heart returned to a steady rate. “Is there someone that you like?” the brunette countered.

“This isn’t about me,” Yongsun smirked.

“Why not? It should be. Everything should be about you,” Byul smirked back.

“See! You’re too good with your words?” The growing blush on Yongsun’s face was an encouraging sign.

“How? I’m just stating a fact. Everything should be about you,” Moonbyul smiled fondly.

When the graduate student hid her face in Byul’s chest, the latter put great effort into hiding just how affected by such a small action she was.

“Seriously, though. I’m curious. Jinyoung and Seungyeon seem worlds apart in terms of personality. What is it about them that made you like them?”

It was something she’d been trying to piece together for months now. There didn’t seem to be any thread of commonality between the two. And while she wasn’t the biggest fan of either of them—she wasn’t a fan at all, actually—Byulyi had to admit that there was something about them that caught Yongsun’s eye. She wanted to know what it was.

“That’s . . . a good question,” Yongsun rested her head on Byul’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around her midsection. “I hadn’t given it much thought until now, but I guess they both took the initiative to make a move first. Before Jinyoung, I didn’t entertain anyone. At all. No one approached me in college, I didn’t approach anyone. It was all about school and work for me. My focus was on working hard. Once I got here, though, people started trying to get close to me in a romantic way. It was new. Nice. But I didn’t know what I was doing and I for sure wasn’t confident enough to approach someone first. Jinyoung made it known to others that he was interested in me and I guess that made it easier to think about him in that way. Like, I didn’t have to worry about if he liked me or not—I already knew that he did. Same thing with Seungyeon. She made it clear that she was attracted to me and she made the first move, so I only had to worry about going with the flow, not about if she’d reject me or not. Does that make sense?”

“You like people that make it clear that they like you. Makes all the sense in the world.”

“I don’t know if I’d say I automatically like people that do that, but I think I am more comfortable exploring feelings for someone if I’m sure that they like me.”

“I see.”

“Yeah,” Yongsun trailed. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you look for?”

“A connection.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

*

“Wait. You thought I liked Yooa?!”

“Why are you laughing? She’s pretty and she’s always around. It’s not a far‑fetched idea.”

“If ‘pretty’ and ‘always around’ were the only criteria for liking someone, by your logic, I’d like half of SNU.”

“Well . . .”

“Yong!”

The blonde’s signature high-pitched laugh filled Byul’s bedroom.

It was well after 11:00 pm and the two of them were still up. At some point an hour or so ago, Yongsun momentarily left the bed to turn the lights out before attaching herself at Byul’s hip once more. And so they remained, lying in the dark, each fighting off the fatigue creeping into their voices. Their conversation took no logical path, but Moonbyul was fine with it. She enjoyed following wherever Yongsun’s mind took them.

It currently led them to a bout of silence. A comfortable one.

“Byul-ah,” she heard Yongsun call for her mid-yawn.

“Hmm?”

“What was your first thought when you got hurt?”

“That’s a deep question.”

“You don’t remember?”

“I do. It was only three days ago, but it already feels like forever ago. Probably because I’m already so removed from the emotions of the moment.” She remembered it vividly but didn’t want to put a damper on things. For the past half hour, their conversation topics were upbeat, fun. This was not.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Yongsun softly offered, giving Byul’s waist a slight squeeze.

“Of course I’ll tell you. You know I’d tell you anything. I was afraid.” At simply saying the word, acknowledging the fear, her eyes moistened. Training her eyes on the big black walking boot that shielded her delicate ankle—even in the dark, the contraption’s silhouette stood out to her—Moonbyul opened up. Thus far, she’d reassured everyone else, told them she’d be okay, that she was fine, that she never doubted things, but that wasn’t true.

“I was terrified that I wouldn’t play basketball again. Not at this high of a level, at least.” Clenching her jaw tight, she waited a moment until the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes dried up some. It was all a bit too dramatic for her in the moment, she thought. She would play basketball again, she was no longer in the dark about her injury. Byul didn’t understand why the waterworks were happening. She’d avoided the worst.

Ten breaths and a kiss. It took ten breaths and a kiss placed on Byulyi’s chin before the brunette felt confident enough to continue.

“I thought it was my Achilles. Not sure why, maybe I just like assuming the worst, but yeah, I thought I was done. People come back from a torn Achilles, but never with the same explosiveness or pace, and not usually within the same season. It’s always longer—around a year, maybe more, of battling back to maybe be 70% of what you once were. I thought that would be me. Like, I can still remember feeling paralyzed by the fear that I’d come so close to going pro, only to have it snatched away,” her voice cracked. Forcefully wiping the tears out of her eyes, she tried to lift the mood. “I’m being dramatic right now.”

“You’re not.”

Even in the dark, the care in Yongsun’s voice was clear. Moonbyul didn’t even need to look at her to know her eyebrows were scrunched slightly, lips pursed.

“Well. Yeah. That was my first thought. Up until then, I was telling everyone I’d go pro, but I didn’t really care. I cared, but I also didn’t. It was a matter of, ‘Oh, they’ll tell me where to go, I’ll go, it’ll be fun.’ But in that moment, when I realized how scared I was of losing everything I’d worked for, I remembered how much I cared about basketball. Maybe I was taking it for granted or whatever, but the moment I thought I wouldn’t be able to play for the foreseeable future, I couldn’t deal. I remember getting rolled out of the gym and putting a smile on for everyone so that they wouldn’t worry, but inside, my body was getting hot. It felt like a fireball building and wanting to be released but being trapped instead. It was suffocating.”

“Then you called all of us.”

“Yeah.”

“And told us not to worry.”

“Yeah. What good would worrying do? The injury happened, there was nothing any of us could do about it. All of you getting worked up would be pointless.”

“And I didn’t pick up,” now it was Yongsun’s voice that cracked.

“Yong. Stop it.”

“You were hurt, and I wasn’t there for you.”

The moisture seeping through her t-shirt told her full well what was going on. When Yongsun cried, she cried. Telling her not to cry would only make her cry harder, so Byulyi held onto her instead.

“You have your own life to live, Yong. I don’t expect you to sit around waiting for me to call or text. I called you because I needed you to know what was going on. That’s it. I didn’t call you so that you’d drop everything and come running to me. That’s not realistic.”

“I should’ve been there sooner.”

“You’re here now. You’ve been here every single day since, and that means the world to me.”

She wouldn’t lie, at first, the curiosity about where Yongsun had been was high. Moonbyul wanted to know. And then Yongsun showed up, concerned beyond belief, and Byul no longer cared where she was or what she was doing. It wasn’t her business. All that mattered is that Yongsun showed up. She always did.

They lay in silence.

“Never get hurt again. It doesn’t suit you. I don’t like it,” Yongsun rasped.

Never getting injured again was impossible. It came with athletics. But if what Yongsun needed was to hear her promise to never get hurt again, she’d promise to never get hurt again.

“Okay, I won’t get hurt again.” She sealed the promise with a tender kiss on the older woman’s temple.

Drained from the day and the surprisingly emotional turn in conversation, Byul found herself at the edge of falling asleep when Yongsun suddenly shook her.

“Can you set an alarm for 9:00 am, please?”

“Why? Set it on your own phone.”

“My phone is on your desk across the room.”

“So go get it,” she whined. Things always ended up like this. They’d be fine and then one of them—usually Yongsun—would do something to pop their bubble of peace.

“No. It’s too far and I’m already comfortable.”

“Yongsun.”

“Byul-ah. You’re making this a bigger deal than it is. Just set the alarm.”

“Why do you even need an alarm set? Tomorrow’s Sunday. Wake up whenever and do what you need to do.”

“I already told you that I’m going to my parents’ house tomorrow and that Wheein and Hyejin are coming to watch over you. I need to be up early so I can get ready and take the train. The sooner I get there, the sooner I can come home and work on my paper.”

Groaning louder than necessary to make sure her displeasure was clear, Byul haphazardly stuck a hand out to scan the night table for her phone. Squinting at the bright light from the screen, she set the alarm and unceremoniously dropped the phone back onto the bedside table.

“You’re being grumpy for no reason,” Yongsun readjusted herself and cuddled closer. “My trip home helps you. My mom heard about your injury is making a bunch of food specifically for you.”

“Oh,” the athlete changed her tune. “I love your mom’s cooking.”

“I should tell her how much of a fuss you were making.”

“I made the fuss before I knew about the food.”

The two bickered for a few more moments before deciding to drop the issue.

“Goodnight, Yong.”

“Goodnight.”

“Say it again without rolling your eyes.”

“No.”

“I set the alarm! What could you possibly still be upset about? You’re a piece of work. You know that, right?”

“It took you forever to do me one small favor.”

Maybe they didn’t decide to drop the issue.

*

Boomers and Kisum

Byul

When did you change the group name? 9:45 am

Kisum

Why are you up so early on a Sunday?

Byul

Why are *you* up so early on a Sunday?

Kisum

My gf woke me up 😉

Byul

😷

Kisum

Jealousy is a disease.

What do you want?

Byul

Tattoos!

Kisum

Okay!

Matching Olympics tattoos, right?

Byul

Yes! We promised. It’s a tradition.

Kisum

Tradition!

Heeyeon

When I brought it up two months ago, you didn’t want to get them 😑

Byul

I was busy! But now I’m not.

Heeyeon

Right. You’re injured now and have all the time in the world.

Byul

Exactly!

Kisum

I’m uninjured, in-season, and very busy.

What to do?

Byul

Pick somewhere the tattoo won’t hurt 😁

Kisum

Smart. Love it!

Heeyeon

Kisum, stop agreeing w/ everything she says.

Call her what she is: selfish.

When she was busy, we couldn’t get it, but now we’re supposed to jump?

Byul

I’m very giving. Ask all my exes.

Kisum       

*calls Haena-unnie*

Heeyeon

LMAO!

Byul

Wow. So edgy.

Was going to offer to pay for all of the tattoos

But you want to make jokes, so nvm.

Was it worth it?

Heeyeon

It’s so funny how I tell *everyone* how giving you are!

Was just telling someone yesterday ❤️👀

Byul

🙄

Kisum

Okay, when are we going?

Byul

I get off bedrest tomorrow.

Any day after that. But before my birthday.

Heeyeon

Fine with me. Where are you two thinking of getting your tattoo?

Kisum

Inside of my wrist.

Had this planned from the first day we mentioned it.

Heeyeon

Nice! Thinking forearm or on one of my fingers.

Kisum

Ooooo. That’s cute. Byul-unnie?

Byul

Neck.

Heeyeon

Gtfoh

Kisum

You’re not getting a neck tattoo.

You’re not hard enough for that.

Heeyeon

Not cool enough, either.

No way Yongsun-unnie lets you get one there.            

Byul

LETS me?

I don’t need anyone’s permission.

If I want one there, I’ll get it.

Kisum

They’re together?

Heeyeon

Kisum, pls. Be realistic. It’s Byulyi we’re talking about.

Baby steps.

Kisum

It’s embryo steps at this point.

Heeyeon

She’s trying tho! It’s cute.

I think it’ll happen.

Kisum

Let’s hope. I think they’d be cute together.

Let’s make a bet: When do you think it’ll happen?

I say the summer. July.

Heeyeon

That’s 7 months away 😂

Kisum

You said be realistic.

Heeyeon

They’ll happen before then. June.

Kisum

😂😂😂😂😂

Where is she?

Byul

Yong just said a neck tat would be “hot”. She supports it.

Wait.

you both! 😩

June or July?!

Heeyeon

Love you!

What happened to not needing permission?

Byul

I didn’t ask for permission. I asked for her *opinion*

Heeyeon

Nvm, Kisum. You were right. It’s looking like July 😓

Kisum

Byul-unnie, fighting!

Note: A shorter chapter but a chapter nonetheless. And a chapter full of fluff (?). Even so, it’s fluff with a purpose. Things are happening!

Have heard good things about the hashtag (#GBJB). Yay! As I've told others, that is whatever you all want to make it. Can't lie, did peek at some of the comments in the tag—you all had me laughing out loud. People were UPSET. Someone called Yongsun a "sick sick ", and I will NOT make it a habit of reading you all's business on Twitter, but come ON. That one was too funny to not mention.

Welcome any new readers, thank you to all returning readers. Wishing you all well this week.

Oh! AFF has been glitching, so if you can't see the chapter, let me know and I'll pray on it.