muse
museThe last vestiges of winter chill bite at Ryujin’s neck as she hops down from the bus and makes her way through the towering school gates, to the start of her junior year of high school.
Students flock around her, chattering animatedly. Amidst the high-pitched exclamations of how was your winter break? and good, how about you? she stuffs her earphones in her ear, turns the volume up, and continues up the steps to the school’s entrance.
“Ryujin!”
Something tall barrels into her in a blur of limbs, grabbing at her shoulders. Ryujin is nearly sent lurching forwards, but catches herself in time.
“God, Yuna.” She groans. “If you want to kill me, some warning would be nice.”
Her friend sticks out her tongue. “You’re so cold. We haven’t seen each other for so long—”
“—I just hung out with you last week—”
“—I’ve missed you,” Yuna insists, “And now I get to go to school with you!”
Despite her first day blues, Ryujin can’t resist trapping Yuna’s cheeks between her palms and squeezing. “Baby’s all grown up,” she coos, “freshman year!”
Yuna swats her hands away. “You know I hate it when you do that,” she complains.
“I know.” Ryujin grins, turning to walk through the double doors, Yuna trailing behind with a pout on her face. “That’s why I do it.”
“What’s your first class?”
“Math.” Ryujin sighs. “You?”
“English!”
“You know where your classroom is?”
“No,” Yuna says brightly.
Ryujin rolls her eyes affectionately. “Okay, let’s go. I’ll bring you.”
She heads for the stairs, Yuna in tow, as they pass by students milling around and harried-looking teachers hurrying to their first period.
“Ryujin.” Yuna tugs on her sleeve, sounding equal parts awed and intimidated. “Who’s that?”
Ryujin’s eyes follow her finger to where it points at a gaggle of boisterous students, congregating around—oh. Of course.
“That’s Hwang Yeji. She’s the captain of the baseball team.”
She massages her temples. The noise coming from the group this early in the morning is making her head hurt.
“She’s gorgeous,” Yuna says, miming fanning herself.
“Not you, too.” Ryujin sighs. She watches as Yeji tips her head back and laughs in response to what another student is saying, her smile wide and genuine, blonde hair catching the sunlight streaming through the windows.
“Her hair is so pretty…”
“She’s just another student.” Ryujin grabs Yuna’s hand. “Now, c’mon.”
They’re barely able to take a few steps forward before—
“Yeji, how was your break?” a girl gushes, surging forward and inadvertently blocking their path.
Ryujin rolls her eyes and shoulders her way forward, ignoring Yuna’s scandalised giggle. She feels the heat of eyes prickle on the back of her neck, but she’s past the point of caring.
She needs to get to class.
Ryujin is thankful that her Mondays can at least be salvaged by her last period elective: a free period where juniors and seniors can opt for any class, from film studies to computer science. She’d chosen art, of course.
She sits at a paint-splattered desk, waiting for the art teacher to walk in (she hopes it’s Miss Kang. Miss Kang is nice). Someone taps her on the shoulder.
“Ryujin?”
Ryujin turns to her right and finds doe eyes and a friendly smile. “Oh, Chaeryeong!”
Chaeryeong, who had been her classmate in freshman year, but whom she had since drifted out of contact with. Ryujin tilts her head at her.
“I thought you’d choose the dance elective for sure.”
Chaeryeong shakes her head, silky dark hair tumbling freely down her shoulders. “Nah. I’m already on the dance team, I figure why not try something new?”
Ryujin wonders briefly if she should have done the same, then smiles to herself. She’d be crazy to pass up the opportunity to have a whole hour on the most dreaded day of the week to draw and paint to her heart’s content.
Before she can say anything else, the door opens and a young woman strides in, boots clicking on the floor, hair in a messy bun. Ryujin’s smile widens.
She hears Chaeryeong sigh beside her, murmuring, “Miss Kang is so pretty.”
“Hello, everyone.” Miss Kang smiles. “Welcome to the art elective! So, who here is a beginner to anything art-related?”
A few hands go up in the air. Miss Kang claps her hands together, looking pleased. “Kudos to you all for wanting to try something new! I see a lot of familiar faces as well, so welcome back to my class.”
Her warm gaze roves around the classroom, landing briefly on Ryujin, who grins back. She’d been Miss Kang’s star student and subject of her constant praises in her sophomore year when art class was mandatory.
“Today, I want you to work on—”
She’s interrupted by the classroom door opening abruptly, and a head of blonde hair poking in. “Sorry! I’m late.”
Miss Kang, ever gracious, just smiles at the latecomer and motions to an empty seat. “Not a problem, Yeji. As I was saying…”
Ryujin’s brows pull together. Of all the electives she thought she’d see Hwang Yeji in, art was not one of them. Yeji settles down into the empty seat, glancing casually around the classroom, and their eyes meet. Ryujin pulls her gaze away quickly, focusing on Miss Kang as she explains their assignment for today.
The last thing the school’s star baseball player needs is thinking yet another person is utterly besotted with her.
“How are you doing that?” Chaeryeong runs a hand through her hair, frustrated.
“What do you mean?” Ryujin laughs. “Don’t press so hard with your brush, you’ll tear a hole in your paper.”
Chaeryeong only groans in response.
Their task for today is to use watercolours to paint a picture of their favourite place in the school, so Miss Kang can “get a rough idea of everyone’s skill level”, as she put it.
“I like drawing, but I didn’t expect painting to be so—” Chaeryeong waves her hands in the air, making a frustrated noise.
Ryujin feels someone peering over her shoulder, before hearing Miss Kang’s soft voice. “And what have you two painted today?”
“The school gates,” Ryujin tells her.
“Why’s that your favourite place?”
“It’s where I leave to go home.”
Miss Kang exhales a laugh, shaking her head. “Cheeky as ever, I see.”
She doesn’t say that she’s also painted in some of her friends lounging on the grass; Heejin and Hyunjin being nauseating and feeding each other candy, herself and Yuna cracking up over an inside joke between themselves, Minji and Siyeon smiling fondly at the rest of them.
“Good work as always, Ryujin,” Miss Kang says, sounding pleased. “By the way, stay back a few minutes after class, I want to talk to you about something.”
She moves on to Chaeryeong. “What about you? Ah, I recognise this, it’s the pond near our garden!”
“It’s the dance studio,” Chaeryeong says, with some despair.
Miss Kang blinks for a moment at the painting. “Oh yes, the dance studio! Of course!” She wrings her hands, momentarily flustered, and hurries to announce to the class, “We have five minutes left, feel free to get up and look at what everyone else has been drawing!”
Ryujin shrugs, continuing to dab at her painting with her brush. She’s not one to leave a painting until she’s completely satisfied.
“That looks amazing.”
She looks up to see Yeji, smiling hesitantly down at her.
“Thanks,” Ryujin says, surprised. She looks around, wondering if Yeji is talking to her by mistake, when the baseball captain starts speaking again.
“Mine could never look that good.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” she says, smiling politely.
“I like the way you, um. Blended...those colours?” Yeji points to the sky she’s drawn. “It’s very, um...yeah. Pretty.”
Ryujin stares at her, tries and fails to hide her smile—a genuine one, this time. “Thanks.”
Yeji opens again, her ears tinged pink, but the bell chooses this moment to ring shrilly, and the flurry of thirty students noisily packing their things away commences.
Remembering Miss Kang’s earlier words, Ryujin jumps to her feet as well, motioning apologetically in the direction of their teacher. “Sorry, I need to…”
“Of course!” Yeji steps back, out of her way, and Ryujin heads towards the front of the classroom.
“Miss Kang? What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Ryujin.” Miss Kang smiles at her. “So, the school’s doing its annual art exhibition in June, at the end of the semester. Are you interested? You can join now since you’re a junior. I’d love to see your work up on display there.”
Her eyes widen. “Wait, really?”
“Yes, really.” Miss Kang laughs at her dumbstruck expression. “What are you so shocked for? You’re one of the best in your year. In this school, even.”
Ryujin all but glows at the praise. “I’d love to!”
“Good, because I sort of already suggested your name to the department head.” Miss Kang chuckles. “You’ll need to prepare five pieces, but that shouldn’t be a problem for you. The art room is always open after school if you want to draw here.”
“Five...” Ryujin swallows. “Okay. Yeah! I can do that.”
Five pieces of art? No problem.
Five pieces of art that she’s confident of showing to potentially the whole school, on the other hand…
Miss Kang waves a finger at her. “Also, remember recruiters sometimes come to these things, so make sure they’re your best work.”
“Right.” Ryujin nods, somewhat numbly. “No pressure.”
“No pressure, really.” Miss Kang beams at her. “I know you’ll do great, as always.”
Ryujin heads back to her seat, head reeling. There are still some stragglers packing up their things, but she’s too distracted to take notice of them.
“Really, Yeji, what’s taking you so damn long, we have to go to practice—”
With some effort, Ryujin tunes out the petulant voice in the background. Five pieces of her best work. Recruiters.
She’s going to be seeing a lot of the art room this semester.
Tuesday passes uneventfully, Wednesday bleeds into Thursday, which all but flies by. All week, Ryujin scratches her head over what to paint for the art exhibition.
“Well, what do you normally paint?” asks Chaeryeong in art class on Friday. “Landscapes? People?”
Ryujin stares at her hands. “I don’t even know anymore,” she says in a small voice.
“You’re overthinking this,” her friend chides. “Miss Kang recommended you based on art you’ve already drawn.”
“I know.” Ryujin frowns at her pinky finger. “I’ve just never shown my stuff to that many people before.”
Chaeryeong makes a sympathetic noise. “You know what helps me during dance performances?”
“What?”
“I don’t look at the audience and think about how they’ll judge me. I think about dancing to meet my own standards.”
Ryujin looks at her. Chaeryeong pats her head.
“If you’re satisfied, then who cares what other people think?”
After that, Ryujin practically lives in the art room after school, so much so that Miss Kang starts chasing her out at six every day. She’s accumulated a mountain of discarded drafts and pencilled ideas, but none of them come close to something she deems worthy enough to display in the art exhibition.
Sometimes Chaeryeong accompanies her on the days she doesn’t have dance practice, and puts up with Ryujin’s constant lamenting and sighing while she does her own homework, offering her the occasional input on her brainstorming.
From time to time, Chaeryeong’s friend Jisu joins them in the art room. Ryujin vaguely knows her as someone who’s on the baseball team along with Yeji; she’s seen the two of them together often. Jisu is pretty, sweet, and good-natured, and Ryujin finds it hilarious how Chaeryeong’s face turns crimson whenever Jisu so much as looks at her.
Eventually, Yuna joins her too, which Ryujin is grateful for, because Yuna always seems to sense when she’s in a rut, and knows to placate her with snacks from the nearby vending machine.
Unexpectedly, Yeji also appears in the art room from time to time, sometimes to retrieve an item she left behind, or occasionally to draw quietly in the corner. To Ryujin’s great displeasure, this means that the flock of students that usually follows her around occasionally swarms into the art room as well, oohing and aahing over everything, as though they’ve never seen a paintbrush in their lives before.
“I wish people not doing art would leave the art room,” she grouses under her breath on a day they’re particularly noisy.
Yuna just pats her arm sympathetically.
The following Tuesday finds Ryujin tripping over a discarded doorstop in the hallway just outside the art room. Both she and her paint supplies go sprawling gracelessly on the cold linoleum.
She sighs and starts to pick her things up, when suddenly someone kneels next to her and starts helping her.
Ryujin looks up to see blonde hair and sharp, feline eyes just inches from her own, and her first thought is pretty.
A beat later, she frowns, wondering why Hwang Yeji, star of the school’s varsity baseball team, is crouched beside her on the grimy floor, helping to put her scattered brushes and paint tubes back in her bag.
“Hi?” she says, a little warily. She glances around, half-expecting to see snickering athletes or a phone camera aimed at her predicament, but the hallway is empty besides them.
“Are you okay?”
Ryujin blinks. “Um, I think so.”
“That’s good.” Yeji smiles at her amicably.
They look at each other, a little awkwardly. Ryujin takes the opportunity to give Yeji a subtle once-over. Her long blonde hair is tied into a ponytail, revealing high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. She’s dressed in her baseball uniform, undoubtedly on her way to practice (Ryujin privately wonders why the baseball team has to practice so many times a week. There are only so many times you can hit a ball the same way before it gets old).
She grudgingly admits that up close, she somewhat understands Yeji's staggering school-wide popularity. Somewhat.
She still thinks it’s silly to idolise a fellow student, even if said student is armed with striking eyes and pretty blonde hair and happens to fill out her baseball uniform well.
Ryujin clears , standing up a little too quickly. “Thanks.”
Yeji rises as well, smiling again. “No problem. I’m Yeji, by the way.”
Ryujin almost laughs. I know, she wants to say, because who doesn’t know who Hwang Yeji is?
Instead, she says, “Ryujin.”
“Ryujin,” Yeji repeats, as if her name is the most interesting thing she’s heard today. “We’re in art class together. I don’t know if you remember me…?”
She trails off, while Ryujin tries to wrap her head around the most popular student in school asking if a fellow student remembers her.
“I remember. You said you liked the way I blended my colours, right?”
Yeji laughs, cringing a little at the memory. “Um, yeah. Sorry. I don’t really know art that well enough to compliment it properly. But yours was really good.”
Ryujin smiles perfunctorily, already edging in the direction of the art room, thinking about her art pieces. “Thanks.”
“Wait!”
Ryujin reluctantly ceases her attempted getaway. She looks at Yeji.
“Um.” Yeji makes to run a hand through her hair, then stops, as if she just realised it was tied up. “I was wondering—the art assignment, have you done it yet?”
“No?” Ryujin’s brow furrows. “It was just given today, right?”
“Ah.” Yeji laughs sheepishly. “You’re right. It was. But I’m kind of having trouble with it. I don’t know how to start.”
Ryujin hums. “It was kind of a vague assignment.”
Miss Kang likes to assign open-ended questions, ones that allow for creative freedom and leave much up to the student’s interpretation. Ryujin loves it, but she sees how it could be frustrating for other people.
“Exactly!” She thinks she sees something like relief in Yeji’s eyes. “Would you...maybe want to do it together? You know, since you’re really good at art and everything. I could really use the help.”
“Sure?” It’s hard to imagine Hwang Yeji needing to ask anyone for help.
“Great! We can start next week! I’ll see you in class!” The senior smiles widely at her, and heads in the direction of the school’s baseball field.
Ryujin is left staring after her, trying to process what just happened.
Next week rolls around faster than she would like.
She meets Yeji on Thursday, a day before their assignment is due. They hadn’t really had time to meet before, due to Yeji’s baseball practices and Ryujin working on her art exhibition pieces. There’s also a small, selfish part of Ryujin that pushes the meeting to the last possible day, so they can be over and done with the assignment in a day and she can resume working on her art. She can’t really spare the time to babysit beginners she barely knows.
It comes as an unpleasant surprise on Thursday when she arrives at the art room to see that it’s closed for an event until the evening.
“What do we do?” Yeji’s mouth twists in dismay. “There isn’t anywhere else we can get stuff to paint with, right?”
Ryujin grimaces. She’d left the house in a hurry today, leaving her art supplies behind and figuring she’d use the ones in the art room instead. It would be fine for her to head home and just use her own brushes and paints, but Yeji…
She chances a glance at the baseball captain on her left, notices the worried furrow between her eyebrows, and sighs resignedly under her breath.
“I have some at home. You can use them, if you want.”
She’s partly to blame for pushing it to the last minute, anyway.
“What?” Yeji’s head snaps in her direction. “I mean, would that be okay with you?”
“Sure. I guess.”
It isn’t as if they have much of a choice.
“You’re gripping the brush too hard,” Ryujin chastises. “Here.”
They’re sitting in Ryujin’s living room, working on their assignment (she’d be damned if she let a near-stranger in her bedroom).
She places her hand over Yeji’s, squeezing gently, trying to urge the older girl to loosen her grip. Instead, the opposite happens; Yeji’s hand freezes under hers as she looks at Ryujin, eyes startled.
Ryujin retracts her hand. “Sorry. Anyway, relax your fingers.”
“No, it’s okay!” Yeji says hurriedly. “Please teach me.”
Ryujin raises an eyebrow at her. “...Okay?” she half-laughs. “All I said was loosen your grip.”
She puts her hand back on Yeji’s. The senior’s hand is unexpectedly soft given the sport she so frequently plays. Ryujin briefly wonders whether Yeji’s palm feels equally smooth, or whether it would have calluses from all her time playing baseball.
“I’ve never seen someone so tense,” she murmurs. “You’re not gripping a baseball bat, you know.”
Yeji doesn’t say anything. Ryujin glances up, a question on the tip of her tongue, and finds the older girl already staring at her, her face unreadable, inches from hers.
Too close.
She lets go of Yeji’s hand, drawing back from her. “I think you get the idea,” she mutters.
Ryujin, long since done with her assignment, muddles over her art pieces once more as Yeji finishes up hers.
At some point, her two cats come to poke their noses inquisitively at the unfamiliar visitor, whiskers twitching. Dallie rubs up against Yeji’s calf, purring like an engine, while Byullie jumps into her lap, preening.
“Hey,” Ryujin says, trying and failing to sound stern. In the Shin household, her cats have always reigned supreme.
“No, it’s okay,” Yeji reassures her, “I like animals.”
She a hand down Byullie’s back, while rubbing Dallie’s head with the other, and they eat up the attention, nuzzling contentedly into her touch.
Ryujin tries to come to terms with the peculiar sight of the school’s star baseball player in her house, playing with her two cats.
Yeji looks up, catches her eye, and smiles brightly, pretty eyes curving. Ryujin looks away, unaware she’d been staring. There’s a strange flutter in her chest she can’t explain and doesn’t like.
Her gaze falls back onto the paper before her, riddled with messy sketches.
“If someone asked you to draw five things for an art exhibition,” Ryujin starts, “hypothetically. What would you draw?”
She figures it can’t hurt to get another opinion.
Yeji looks thoughtful. “Something that’s important to me.”
Ryujin sighs. She knows that, but—
“I don’t think the things important to me are very important to everyone else.”
“So?” Yeji shrugs. “It’s your exhibition.”
Ryujin shifts in her seat, looking up at the senior again. Yeji is still absentmindedly petting Byullie and Dallie, but her attention is wholly focused on Ryujin. The intensity of her gaze almost makes her want to look away.
“What would you draw?” she says instead. “Baseball?”
Yeji snorts out a laugh. “Sure. I like other things besides baseball, you know.”
“Like?”
It’s Yeji’s turn to avert her gaze, a little bashfully. “I like to dance. And sing, sometimes. I have two dogs, so I’d probably draw them. If I could draw.”
“You can draw.” Ryujin motions at her finished assignment, and Yeji shakes her head.
“Not as well as you.”
The frankness with which she says it makes heat rise to Ryujin’s cheeks. She doesn’t quite know what to say to that, so she doodles a little cat on her paper.
“Is this for the annual art exhibition?” Yeji asks.
Ryujin nods.
“Well, whatever you draw.” Yeji smiles at her. “I’m excited to see it in June."
When Yeji leaves to go home, Ryujin watches as the door closes behind her, thinking, that wasn’t terrible.
Dallie mewls beside her, and she scoops him up and kisses him on his fuzzy head, crooning at him.
“Traitor,” she accuses, without any real bite. “Cuddling with a stranger instead of me.”
He bats his chubby paws at her chin, purring.
She lets him go. He leaps playfully onto Byullie, and they tumble onto the couch in a tangle of furry limbs.
Ryujin watches them wrestle for a while, her eyes fond, mulling Yeji’s words over.
Something that’s important to me.
She grabs her pencil and begins sketching.
The next day, Ryujin walks into art class, the first period of every Friday, and finds a to-go cup of coffee sitting on her usual desk.
It’s the good kind too, from an actual café, rather than the watered down version they usually sell in the school’s cafeteria. She peels off the bright yellow post-it stuck to its side.
Thanks for helping me out yesterday. I got you hot coffee since it gets chilly in the morning. I hope you like it! ^-^
“Ooh, someone has a secret admirer,” Chaeryeong says loudly.
“Shh,” Ryujin hisses, punching her shoulder.
“Who could it be?” Chaeryeong continues, ignoring her. “This is fancy coffee from that fancy café down the block! Someone made an effort.”
Ryujin puts her hand over Chaeryeong’s mouth, because now Yeji is looking at them from her seat nearer the front of her class, trying to hide a smile.
She thinks she understands now why Yeji has so many admirers, if she treats everyone she meets like this.
“Yeji, I’m impressed!” Miss Kang says happily, looking at Yeji’s submission for the assignment. “You’ve improved a lot in such a short time.”
“I had a good teacher,” Yeji simply answers.
Miss Kang smiles distractedly in response, already accepting the next student’s submission, but Yeji is looking straight at Ryujin when she says it.
Ryujin coughs and hides her reddening ears in her sketchbook.
“Let’s dye our hair,” Chaeryeong tells her one day, while they’re working in the art room.
“What?” Ryujin laughs. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I kind of want to do it, just for a change. And Jisu’s stressed about baseball nationals starting, so she wants to do something fun too. You should do it with us.”
“What colour are you thinking of?”
Chaeryeong puts a finger to her chin. “Maybe light brown.”
“Safe,” says Ryujin, wrinkling her nose.
“Why, what colour would you dye your hair?”
Ryujin says the most arbitrary colour she can think of, just to annoy Chaeryeong. “Blue.”
It earns her an eye roll. “Really playing to the art student stereotype.”
“I’m serious,” Ryujin says, deadpan.
“You better be sure. Jisu’s getting us hair dye later this week—”
“Oh, Jisu’s getting us hair dye,” Ryujin singsongs.
Chaeryeong’s face turns pink. Ryujin snickers into her hand.
“So are you coming or not? C’mon, you’re almost finished with your first art piece, right?”
“And third wheel you and your girlfriend?” She shakes her head. “No thanks.”
“She’s not my girlfriend!” Chaeryeong shoots back, smacking her shoulder.
Ow . “Okay, fine, I’ll come.” Ryujin winces, clutching her shoulder. “But I’m dyeing my hair blue.”
On a rainy Monday, just after art class finishes, Ryujin accidentally knocks one of her jars of paint off the rickety school desk.
She swears under her breath, belatedly reaching for it as it falls. This one was expensive.
A pair of hands catches it deftly before it hits the floor. Ryujin looks up to see Yeji’s smiling face.
“Saved it.” She laughs, placing it back on the desk.
Ryujin exhales in relief. “Thanks, that was one of my favourites.”
Yeji squints at the miniscule writing on the label. “Forest green?”
“Any green.” She lays down her brush. “Did you need something?”
“Well...no.” Yeji rubs the back of her neck, shooting her a sheepish look. “I was just wondering if you wanted to do this week’s assignment together. I had a lot of fun, last time.”
Ryujin blinks at her, and wonders if Hwang Yeji really has nothing better to do, no one better to hang out with than her.
Yeji is still talking. “We’re supposed to practice ink drawing, right? I’ve never done that before, and it’s different from everything we’ve done previously, and you’re really good at art, and—”
“Sure,” she says slowly.
Yeji’s answering smile is radiant, with just a touch of relief. “Great! Maybe I could get your number, then? You know, in case I don’t see you in class.”
She hands Ryujin her phone, and her lock screen lights up, revealing a text from Jisu before Ryujin can tear her eyes away.
Choi Jisu [3.37pm]
So when are you going to hang out with her again???
“Oops.” Yeji snatches her phone back, dismisses the text with a swipe, and holds out her phone again. “Ignore that.”
Bemused, Ryujin shrugs at her strange behaviour and starts keying her number in.
There’s another steaming coffee cup waiting for her on her desk when she next walks into art class. The emerald post-it stuck to its side tells her it’s peppermint hot chocolate, and hopes it keeps her warm and gives her energy for her Friday classes.
Ryujin endures Chaeryeong’s merciless teasing for the rest of first period.
“Are you really going to dye your hair blue?” Jisu asks dubiously, while they’re in the bathroom, beginning the arduous process of bleaching Chaeryeong’s hair.
She holds up the bottle of blue dye. It sloshes around ominously.
“Yeah, why not?” Ryujin says blithely. “How bad can it be?”
Chaeryeong is shaking her head, the shower cap on her head flopping comically from side to side. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
It turns out that it’s not bad at all. She kind of likes how she looks, actually.
Jisu wolf whistles as she preens in the mirror. “Hot!”
Chaeryeong enters the bathroom, newly-dyed hair damp and tousled, skin glowing from her recent shower, and Ryujin tries not to laugh as she notices Jisu’s eyes snap to her instantly and flick up and down.
“It does look good,” Chaeryeong admits, and Ryujin sticks her tongue out at her.
“I think,” she says as she stares critically at her reflection in the mirror, “I want to change something else. Ryeong, do you have scissors?”
Chaeryeong hands a pair to her with some trepidation, and Ryujin takes a careless fistful of her hair and—
“Wait!” Jisu grabs her wrist. “Let me do it. Please.”
Ryujin lets her, sitting back obediently as Jisu snips delicately at her hair with far more patience than she has exhibited in her whole life.
“Done,” Jisu declares, laying down the scissors with a plink.
Ryujin runs a hand through her now-short locks, a slow smile creeping across her face. Both Jisu and Chaeryeong are staring at her in the mirror.
“Yeji’s gonna go crazy,” Jisu mutters.
Ryujin frowns, sure she’s misheard. “Huh?”
Jisu blinks innocently at her. “I said, you look so good with short hair it’s crazy.”
On Monday, she walks through the school hallways on her way to class, and it feels like everyone’s staring at her.
She curls a hand around Yuna’s elbow, shrinking into the taller girl’s side, unused to being gawked at. “Can people stop looking?”
“It may have something to do with the fact that your hair is blue,” Yuna tells her amusedly. “Just guessing.”
“You’re not helping.” Ryujin scowls.
When she gets to art class, Yeji takes one look at her and stares and stares and stares.
can you stop, she texts Yeji, and shoots her a glare across the room for good measure.
Sorry. Yeji responds almost instantly. Can you blame me? You look…
ugly? Ryujin fires back cheekily.
Miss Kang walks in then, cheerfully greeting the class, and starts to explain their task for the day. Ryujin half-listens, glancing down as the screen lights up with another text.
She nearly drops her phone.
Beautiful
By the time the following Monday rolls around, she’s done with her first art piece.
She shows it to Miss Kang after class, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
“Ryujin, this is amazing,” her teacher says, holding the canvas somewhat reverently. “The best work I’ve seen from you so far.”
She sags with relief. “Really?”
Miss Kang nods. “Everything I’ve seen from you has been technically good, but I can tell you’ve poured your heart into this one. Are these your cats in the foreground?”
“Yeah. A friend gave me the idea to paint something important to me.”
“Well, I guess I have them to thank.” Miss Kang smiles down at the canvas. “Great job with the lighting. And these textures!”
Ryujin leaves the art room that day with a spring in her step, only to crash headlong into someone, who instinctively grabs her by the elbows so they both don’t topple over.
“Sorry,” Yeji breathes. “I was nearly the cause of your fall this time.”
“It’s okay.” They’re so close Ryujin has to tilt her head up slightly to make eye contact. She can see the little mole on Yeji’s nose, each individual eyelash.
They both step back simultaneously, Yeji’s hands dropping from Ryujin’s elbows.
“I have practice in the afternoon today,” Yeji begins after a brief silence, fidgeting a little.
“...Okay?”
“Would you—“ Yeji begins, then stops, running a hand through her hair. “I was wondering if you wanted to...”
As she trails off, Ryujin realises what she’s trying to ask. “Are you asking me to come see you play?”
“I mean, if you want to.” A tentative smile. “Maybe we could get something to eat after. I still haven’t properly thanked you for helping me with art.”
Ryujin is on the verge of protesting, thinking of the thoughtful drinks left on her desk in the mornings, but the words die in at the hopeful look on Yeji’s face.
“Plus.” Yeji looks bashfully at her feet. “I think seeing you there would, um, motivate me. Practice is hard sometimes, you know?”
Oh.
Ryujin takes in Yeji’s averted eyes and the light flush in her cheeks, and grins to herself. “I always see lots of students on the bleachers watching you guys play, though. Don’t they give you enough motivation? What do you need me there for?”
“But—” Ryujin watches as Yeji’s face falls, almost imperceptibly, and tries her best to stifle her laughter. “Oh, yeah, I guess...they’re not you, though.”
This last part is mumbled quietly. Ryujin fights hard to hide the growing smile threatening to give her away, but the corners of her lips twitch anyway.
“Then I guess I have to come, don’t I?” she teases.
Yeji’s face lights up unabashedly, her smile blinding, and Ryujin’s heart beats just a little faster.
Watching Yeji fly around the baseball field, lithe and graceful, Ryujin is starting to understand a little better why people enjoy watching sports.
It isn’t that she hated sports before. She just didn’t see the point of hitting a ball repeatedly just to retrieve it and start the process all over again.
But catching a glimpse of Yeji’s wild, delighted smile as she clinches another home run, or the glint in her eye just before she taps another player out, faster and more agile than everyone else, Ryujin thinks maybe she’d been too quick to judge.
“That’s called a home run,” Yuna informs her, prodding her side as Yeji does it again.
“I know what it’s called.” Ryujin rolls her eyes and pokes her back.
“I can’t believe Yeji asked you to come to her practice,” Yuna says gleefully. “But you know what’s even more unbelievable?”
“What,” Ryujin says, very reluctantly.
“That you said yes!” Yuna all but cackles, hitting Ryujin on the thigh. “Do you like her?”
Ryujin slaps her hand over Yuna’s mouth. “Don’t you have floorball practice at three?”
“Not on Mondays!”
She sighs, adopting a long-suffering expression. “Why did I ask you to join me, again?”
“Because you love me.”
On the field, Yeji prepares to pitch the ball, drawing it back over her head, her back arching. Her sharp eyes are narrowed in concentration; she bears uncanny resemblance to a cat waiting to pounce. Ryujin knows firsthand what it’s like to be the subject of her intense gaze, and doesn’t envy the batter standing opposite her.
“Remember to blink, Ryujin,” Yuna stage whispers.
Ryujin just swats her knee absentmindedly, eyes not straying from Yeji.
The ball streaks hard and fast towards the batter, who swings and misses entirely. Ryujin lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.
“Not you, too,” mocks Yuna, deepening her voice in a poor imitation of Ryujin’s. “She’s just another student.”
“She is,” mutters Ryujin, but freezes as Yeji turns to scan the students sitting on the bleachers, gaze searching, before her eyes land on Ryujin. The baseball captain grins and waves at her, only her, her smile brilliant in the afternoon sun.
She’s so screwed.
Later, she heads down to the pitch to look for Yeji, pausing to swipe a bottle of cold water from the vending machines in an attempt to stave off the heat. She’s not nervous and she’s not stalling.
The baseball captain meets her halfway, where grass touches concrete at the edge of the pitch.
“You came!” Yeji beams at her, cheeks flushed pink from the exertion, brow glistening with sweat.
Ryujin nearly drops the bottle of water she’s holding.
She stares up at Yeji, her heart pounding in her chest, and presses the ice-cold bottle to the baseball captain’s cheek.
Yeji shrieks and laughs, shying away. “What was that for?”
Ryujin tries for nonchalance, shrugging. “You looked like you needed cooling down.”
Yeji snorts. “You’re right. It does feel good.”
She puts her hand over Ryujin’s and presses the bottle to her jaw again, smiling down at her, her sweat-slicked skin framed by the golden afternoon light, and Ryujin wills her traitorous heartbeat to slow.
“Is this for me?”
“No,” says Ryujin, but gives the bottle to her anyway.
Yeji laughs and pushes her shoulder lightly. She takes a grateful swig, throat bobbing, lips placed right where Ryujin’s were.
Ryujin swallows hard and looks away.
“I did say I’d pay you back after you helped me so much.” Yeji tilts her head towards her car, smiling invitingly. “Get in?”
“And if I say no?” She isn’t going to, but she likes being difficult on purpose. Sometimes.
“It’s up to you, of course.” Yeji blows out her cheeks, and the sight is infuriatingly endearing. “I’d be sad, though.”
Ryujin pretends to think about it, putting her finger to her chin, and Yeji laughs, pushing her gently towards the passenger seat. “Please get in. I’ll treat you to tteokbokki.”
“Done,” she says immediately, climbing into the passenger seat. She’ll fight Yeji when she tries to pay later, but she is hungry.
Yeji shakes her head, still giggling, settling into the driver’s seat next to her. “You’re something else, Shin Ryujin.”
They end up strolling languidly through the streets, sharing a sizable cup of tteokbokki that Ryujin tried to pay for but Yeji was too quick to let her, blanketed by a comfortable silence.
Ryujin is the first to break it, curiosity prompting her to speak. “So, why’d you choose art?”
She’s expecting to hear the usual I wanted something fun or I wanted to try something new.
Yeji looks at her and grins, rather sheepishly. “Honestly?”
“Yeah.” She pops another piece of tteokbokki in , chewing.
“Honestly…I can’t tell you.” Yeji raises her hands placatingly at Ryujin’s wrinkled brow. “It’s embarrassing, okay? I’ll tell you another day.”
“Okay,” Ryujin says, somewhat appeased. Another day implies that this won’t be the last time they hang out. She isn’t opposed to the idea.
“Why did you choose art?” Yeji asks her.
“I’ve always liked art,” she responds. Yeji looks at her, as if waiting for her to elaborate, so she continues, “I don’t always express myself well. But drawing, painting, anything—it makes it easy. It’s like a lens you can look at the world through, I guess.”
“Wow,” Yeji says softly. “That’s—I never thought about it that way.”
Ryujin shrugs. “Art can be anything for you that you want it to be. Even if it’s embarrassing.”
She shoots Yeji a wry side glance, and the baseball captain ducks her head, but says nothing.
“Have the last one, I’ve had so many,” Ryujin tells her.
“No, you take it.”
Ryujin rolls her eyes, sticks her skewer into the last piece, and walks towards Yeji. “Come here.”
“Huh?” Yeji’s eyes are wide, looking between her and the tteokbokki hanging off her stick.
“Come here,” Ryujin repeats, and steps right into her personal space, holding up her skewer. “Are you going to take it?”
Yeji stares down at her, unmoving. “And if I say no?” she whispers.
Ryujin stands on the tips of her toes and brings the skewer to Yeji’s lips. “Eat it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Yeji bites the tteokbokki off the stick, her gaze on Ryujin the whole time she chews, unwavering. Her tongue darts out to catch a drop of sauce on her lip.
“That was the best tasting one yet,” she says, eyes curving.
Ryujin turns to toss the empty cup in the trash nearby, trying to hide the burning heat rising to her cheeks.
Saturday morning, Ryujin rolls around listlessly on her couch, Byullie on her lap and Dallie curled up to her left. She stares unseeingly at the drama that’s showing onscreen, fretting about her second art piece.
At eleven, her phone pings with a text.
What are you up to today?
It’s Yeji.
Ryujin can’t stop the smile that steals across her face. She texts back, trying to think about what i should draw for the art exhibit :(
Her brother walks past, peering at her. “Someone looks happy.”
She throws one of the couch cushions at him, just as her phone chimes again.
Want to hang? Maybe I can help?
nah i can’t, Ryujin types almost automatically, before deleting and reconsidering. She’s usually not one to shirk her responsibilities and go out while she has work to do.
On the other hand, maybe Yeji can help with her lack of inspiration. She gave Ryujin the idea for her first art piece, after all.
There’s also a part of her that can’t get Yeji’s striking cat-like eyes and her smile out of her head, but she’ll never say it out loud.
okay, she sends instead.
Yay, I’ll come pick you up :)
“So, where are we going?” Ryujin asks her, idly fiddling with the dial on the car radio.
“You’ll see,” Yeji tells her cryptically.
At that, Ryujin sticks out her bottom lip, and Yeji laughs at her.
“Cute, but I’m still not telling.” She turns them onto a quieter road. “Tell me about the ideas you have for your art exhibit instead.”
Ryujin doesn't think her half-baked ideas are worth listening to in the slightest, but she starts explaining anyway, talking about all the possible subjects she’s considered, and what kind of paint she’d use. Yeji turns down the music to listen, humming softly in agreement every now and then.
Slowly, as she speaks, Ryujin feels some of the tension lift from her shoulders. She leans back against the cushy passenger seat, thinking that even if she doesn’t come up with anything today, Yeji has already helped a little, in her own unexpected way.
“So,” Yeji says as they step onto a beaten forest trail, “I found this place kind of by accident one day. I like to go on walks when I need to clear my head, and I ended up walking all the way here.”
The trail leads into a thicket of trees, swallowing the din from the outside world as they wander further in, replacing it with the distant sounds of birds chirping and the occasional cricket. A stream burbles along happily nearby, just out of sight.
“Maybe a change of scenery is what you need,” Yeji continues, “or just some peace and quiet.”
Ryujin looks at her, thick with gratitude.
She can’t find the words, so she says, “Or you’re secretly a serial killer and you brought me here to kill me and hide my body.”
Yeji laughs. “Or that. C’mon, my favourite spot is right up ahead.”
She takes Ryujin’s hand and leads her further in, looking back every once in a while to check that she’s following. Ryujin stares at their clasped hands for a while, then smiles to herself, threading their fingers together.
She’s sure she’s not imagining the blush curling its way along the shell of Yeji’s ear.
Yeji settles them down in a little forest clearing. Ryujin almost feels like they’ve stepped into another world. Gnarled branches twist to form a quaint canopy over their heads, dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves, lending just enough light to make their surroundings seem ethereal. The stream she heard before winds through the centre of it, crystal-clear, light twinkling off its surface.
The baseball captain lets go of her hand to rummage around in her backpack, and after a while fishes out a thick blanket, laying it on the grass. She sits, pats the spot beside her, and looks at Ryujin hopefully, softly illuminated by the light.
Ryujin can find no smart comment, no mischievous quip in her arsenal, so she goes to sit beside Yeji wordlessly, their shoulders brushing. Their pinkies are almost touching, and if Ryujin moves just a little closer she can—
“Isn’t this place nice?” Yeji says, her voice hushed.
“It is,” Ryujin whispers back. “Thank you. For sharing this with me.”
“I brought food.” Yeji smiles, turning to take a few boxes out of her backpack. “It’s near lunchtime, and I know you can’t think when you’re hungry.”
“You—” Ryujin screws up her nose. “How do you know that?”
Yeji blushes a little, looking down. “Sometimes I overhear you and Yuna talking in the art room after school. Not that I mean to!”
Ryujin stares at her, then giggles. “It’s okay. I mean, now you know how to keep me happy, at least.”
“Very important,” Yeji nods sagely.
They eat in companionable silence for a while.
When they finish, Ryujin sits back, satisfied and full. She bumps Yeji’s shoulder lightly with her own, and the baseball captain turns to look at her, gaze soft. “Thanks for lunch.”
“Of course.”
Ryujin tips her head back, inhaling the earthy scent of the forest around her. She closes her eyes, and imagines immortalising this moment on a canvas with her acrylics.
Her eyes fly open, meeting Yeji’s, and the baseball captain jumps, eyes darting away quickly.
“Need my stuff,” she says, reaching for her bag. She doesn’t have any canvas, but she does have a few sheets of paper tucked away.
She grabs them and one of the many spare pencils she has, hunching forward to draw on the picnic blanket.
Her tongue pokes out in concentration; her pencil is having some trouble staying steady amidst the folds of the blanket and the rough forest floor.
“Here,” Yeji says suddenly, turning around. “Draw on my back.”
Ryujin hesitates. “Are you sure? I don’t know how long I’ll take—”
“Quick,” Yeji urges her, laughing, “before the inspiration slips away!”
Ryujin laughs back in disbelief, flattens her paper on Yeji’s back, and begins to sketch out the scenery before her in quick, sure .
“Better?”
“Much better,” Ryujin agrees. It doesn’t hurt that Yeji’s back is wonderfully firm from all her hours spent on the baseball field, but she isn’t going to voice that aloud.
She outlines the edge of the stream, the little pebbles dotted around its banks, the wildflowers lining it on either side, all the while conscious of the warmth steadily emanating from Yeji’s back.
After some time, Yeji shifts ever so slightly, her back muscles flexing under Ryujin’s fingers, and Ryujin loses all semblance of coherent thought. Her mind goes blank, her pencil stilling on the paper.
“Sorry,” Yeji says apologetically from in front of her. “Legs fell asleep.”
Ryujin shakes her head vigorously, her cheeks heating. “No. Um. It’s fine. Do you need a break?”
“No no, I’m okay,” Yeji insists. “Keep going.”
When Ryujin is finished, she leans forward and shows Yeji the finished sketch proudly, her chin resting lightly on Yeji’s shoulder.
“See, here’s where I’m going to use the paints to show the sunlight reflecting off the water—” Ryujin points, and Yeji’s eyes follow “—and this is our blanket and the food you made, in the corner.”
“Wow,” Yeji says softly. “You’re amazing.”
“No, this was all you,” Ryujin tells her earnestly. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“Thank you for coming.” Yeji turns so she’s facing her again. “I like that we’re hanging out more often. I thought maybe you didn’t like me at first.”
She looks a little self-conscious, and Ryujin shakes her head quickly. “It’s not that I didn’t like you. I just thought you were, you know. Like all the other athletes. Popular. Cliquey. Noisy.”
“That’s a fair assessment of a lot of them, actually.” Yeji laughs.
“But you’re not like that.”
“I’m glad you think so.” The baseball captain smiles at her, slow and shy. “And I’m glad we’re becoming friends.”
Friends. Ryujin rolls the word around on her tongue. “Me too,” she murmurs.
Yeji continues to marvel over her drawing, fingers tracing the rough sketch lines, while Ryujin suddenly finds the grass beside them very interesting.
The problem is that she doesn’t want to just be friends. And up till this moment, she thought Yeji felt that way as well.
As they pack up the lunch boxes and roll up the picnic blanket, Ryujin has a funny, hollow feeling in her gut that she refuses to think about.
In art class on Monday, she barely listens, staring frustratedly at the back of Yeji’s blonde head. She’d spent the rest of the weekend thinking and overthinking every interaction between them while finishing her second art piece, and she’d come to one conclusion.
“I’m never liking anyone ever again,” she mumbles to Chaeryeong, out of the blue. She feels stupid.
Coffee on her desks in the morning, working on art projects together, complimenting her hair, inviting her to practice, letting her draw on her back. Yeji was just being friendly.
“What?” Chaeryeong whispers back, as Miss Kang explains shading techniques on the whiteboard. “Who hurt you?”
“Nobody.” Ryujin folds her arms.
She wonders if she’s acting like one of Yeji’s enamoured fans, and then wonders if Yeji treats everyone she meets like she treated Ryujin. If so, she can’t exactly blame them.
Then she shakes her head, mildly horrified at herself, and wonders how in the world she ended up empathising with Yeji’s fanclub.
Chaeryeong looks confused. “But Jisu told me you and Y—”
She falls silent as Miss Kang turns around to introduce their assignment for the day. Ryujin sighs, staring up at the clock and jiggling her foot up and down, waiting for class to end so she can head home and not have to be in the same room as Hwang Yeji.
One hour drags by. The bell rings.
“Bye, Ryeong,” she mutters, shoving her things into her bag and standing up. In the corner of her eye, she sees Yeji glancing towards her.
Amidst the usual commotion of chairs scraping back and students chattering, Ryujin slips out the door.
By the time Thursday rolls around, it’s been long enough for her to feel slightly guilty. After all, it’s hardly Yeji’s fault she’s misinterpreted all her efforts to be friendly as something more.
She looks a little regretfully at their text message history.
[Saturday, 11:01 am]
Yeji: What are you up to today?
Ryujin: trying to think about what i should draw for the art exhibit :(
Yeji: Want to hang? Maybe I can help?
Ryujin: okay
Yeji: Yay, I’ll come pick you up :)
[Saturday, 6:47 pm]
Yeji: Thanks for coming out with me today, I had lots of fun!! I’m glad I could help you with your art :)
[Monday, 3:06 pm]
Yeji: You left class so quick today :o I didn’t get to say hi!
[Wednesday, 11:17 am]
Yeji: I have practice today, but do you want to get donuts after? A new bakery just opened a few streets away!!
Ryujin’s fingers hover over her screen, but whatever she thinks to type seems woefully inadequate.
sorry for not replying, i forgot, she begins to type, then erases it and tries again. sorry, i got really busy...
But that isn’t true either. She sighs, pocketing her phone.
“What’s that sigh for?” Jisu asks from her seat at the art table. Her fingers are idly playing with the ends of Chaeryeong’s hair.
“Do you…” Ryujin hesitates, then makes up her mind. “Do you know where Yeji is?”
Jisu looks at her for a while, gaze unreadable. Then she says, “Probably down at the baseball field.”
Ryujin frowns. “But you guys don’t have practice today.”
“She’s been training outside of practice. She’s stressed about nationals. And,” Jisu eyes her, “about other things.”
Ryujin grimaces, the guilt returning tenfold. “Okay, message received.”
Chaeryeong looks between the two of them, then nudges Ryujin’s sneaker gently with her foot. “You should go find her.”
She bites her lip and nods.
When she arrives at the field, she sees Yeji standing poised in front of a pitching machine, sharp eyes narrowed. She sends each ball flying with deadly precision and grace, never missing a shot.
Behind her, Ryujin watches for a while, silently admiring and grappling with what to say.
After the pitching machine spits out the last ball, which is promptly sent deep outfield, Ryujin steels herself and takes a deep breath.
“Yeji,” she calls quietly.
Yeji turns immediately, and her eyes widen a little. “Ryujin.”
“Hi,” Ryujin says, then winces at how weak it sounds.
“Hi.” Yeji watches her, her face inscrutable, but Ryujin can see that her knuckles are bone-white around the bat.
She hangs her head. “Sorry.”
Yeji is silent at that, so she continues, the words tumbling out of her haphazardly, “I, um. Was avoiding you. You probably noticed.”
More silence. Ryujin scuffs her sneaker on the grass.
“It’s just that you said something on Saturday, about how you were glad we were becoming friends. And all this while I thought that we were—” Ryujin rakes a hand through her hair, determinedly looking everywhere but at Yeji “—kind of more than that. So I had to go deal with my feelings for a while. Sorry.”
The continued silence that follows is unbearably deafening. Ryujin runs a hand through her hair again, and wants nothing more to run and hide somewhere she’ll never see Yeji again.
“So, yeah,” she finishes. “I’m sorry. Again. For misunderstanding when you were just being friendly. And I do want to be friends with you, I just need to…”
She makes a vague gesturing motion, then cringes at herself.
“Ryujin.” Yeji exhales, long and slow, and Ryujin looks up warily, dreading a pity-filled response.
Then, Yeji starts laughing. Ryujin can do little else but stare incredulously.
“Okay, I’m leaving,” she mutters, shouldering her backpack and turning on her heel.
She’s furious at herself. Honestly, what else did she expect, falling for the school’s most popular athlete who probably gets confessed to on a weekly basis—
Strong arms wrap around her middle, stopping her in her tracks. “Don’t leave,” Yeji murmurs, right next to her ear.
Ryujin can still hear traces of amusement in her voice, and it irks her to no end. “Let go of me,” she demands, trying to wriggle out of Yeji’s embrace.
“Never.”
She deflates.
“Why did you laugh,” she mumbles.
“Silly.” Yeji tugs her gently and turns her around, so that they’re face-to-face. “I like you too.”
Ryujin blinks at her. “What?”
“I said,” Yeji repeats, “I like you too, Shin Ryujin.”
Ryujin stares at her, then punches her in the shoulder.
“Ow,” Yeji whines, pretending to clutch at her shoulder, but she looks more amused than pained.
“Then why did you say we were just friends!”
“I didn’t know if you liked me back!” Yeji protests. “And we were becoming friends!”
Ryujin gives her the most unimpressed look she can muster. She has nowhere else to go, encircled by Yeji’s arms, so she gives up, dropping her forehead onto Yeji’s shoulder.
Yeji’s arms tighten around her waist in response, ever so slightly. “Do you want to know the real reason I chose art? The embarrassing reason?”
She nods into Yeji’s shoulder.
“I’ve liked you since my sophomore year,” Yeji confesses, “I saw you in the hallways and around school, and I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. But every time we made eye contact you never seemed interested, so I never had the courage to talk to you. And then my friend Heejin said you’d choose the art elective this year for sure, so I...took a chance.”
Ryujin decides to send Heejin a thank you message later.
“I’m glad,” she says, voice muffled by Yeji’s sweatshirt. “Do you...want to get those donuts now?”
She can feel Yeji smile against the crown of her head. “I’d like nothing more.”
A week later, they’re caught red-handed in the art room.
“Ryujin!” Yuna bursts into the art room excitedly, Jisu and Chaeryeong right behind her. “The café next door finally opened, do you want to go—”
She trails off, looking at the scene before her. Yeji’s head is on Ryujin’s shoulder while Ryujin sketches on a piece of scrap paper. The baseball captain is sound asleep, but their fingers are intertwined loosely.
“Shh! She’s sleeping!” Ryujin hisses.
Yeji wakes with a yawn and a languid stretch reminiscent of a household cat, mumbling sleepily, “What’s happening?”
Yuna’s eyes are wide and round. “Oh, my god.”
Chaeryeong nudges her. “Pay up.”
“You guys were betting on us?” Ryujin demands in a heated whisper.
“Ignore them,” Jisu sidesteps them and lays a hand on Yeji’s shoulder, cups Ryujin’s cheeks affectionately. “I’m so happy for the both of you. Ryujin, you don’t know how long this girl has been—”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Yeji says hurriedly, jumping up and covering Jisu’s mouth, now looking very awake.
“—she’s been insufferable,” Jisu says, voice muffled behind Yeji’s hand.
Chaeryeong cuts in, “No, you didn’t hear Ryujin back when she thought Yeji didn’t like her back. What was it?”
Ryujin gapes at her. “Ryeong—“
“I’m never liking anyone ever again,” Chaeryeong imitates melodramatically, and Yuna erupts into a fit of cackles.
“I hate all of you.” Ryujin rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling anyway.
(She elects not to mention she’d seen Jisu and Chaeryeong kissing near the school pond the other day. It’s mileage she’ll save for later.)
The next time Ryujin invites Yeji to her place to hang out and do homework together, she brings Yeji up to her room.
She worries a little about bringing someone new into her sanctuary, a space she rarely shares with anyone, but Yeji wanders around her bedroom with a sense of wonder, before turning to Ryujin and saying earnestly, “I love your room.”
Ryujin eyes the articles of clothing hanging haphazardly across her chair and bed frame. “Really?”
Yeji’s fingers hover over her paint-splotched desk, the paintbrushes still sticking forlornly out of a murky tub of water, the pictures of Ryujin and her family on her wall. “Yeah. Really.”
When they get around to doing homework, Ryujin is sprawled comfortably in bed, finishing up her math assignment for the week, Yeji next to her.
“I’m done,” she announces, slamming her math book shut with more force than necessary. “With math, at least.”
“Already?” Yeji stifles a yawn, a stray lock of blonde hair falling into her face. Ryujin brushes it behind her ear absentmindedly.
“Yeah, I did most of it in class already. Sleepy?”
“Mm,” Yeji says. “Would you be mad if I took a nap on your bed?”
Ryujin shakes her head at her. “Not mad, just...concerned. A little.”
She’s noticed the dark shadows under Yeji’s eyes, her increasing need to take naps during the day, the exhausted look in her eyes when she thinks no one’s watching.
“I’m not getting a lot of sleep,” Yeji admits, her voice low. “I’m just stressed about our matches, I guess.”
Ryujin waits patiently for her to elaborate, as Yeji has done so many times for her before.
Yeji sighs, rolling onto her back. “They made me captain the end of last year.”
“Duh, you’re the best one on the team,” Ryujin says.
Yeji smiles at that, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I was terrified. I told them they shouldn’t have chosen based on skill, but leadership.”
“And?”
She shook her head, huffing out a laugh. “No one listened to me. They just all told me I’d make a great captain.”
Ryujin hums. “You know what I think?”
Yeji looks at her, and Ryujin hates the poorly disguised insecurity she sees in her eyes. “What?”
“I don’t know much about the other girls on your team, but I’ve seen the way you interact with them during practice. You’re always looking out for everyone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a time you were on that field where you put yourself first. The other day, you passed around your water bottle to the entire team before taking a sip yourself.”
Yeji grins wryly at that, and Ryujin presses on, “And I always see you staying back after practice and making an effort to teach the players who are having difficulty with something. That’s a good leader to me. And that’s probably what everyone on your team meant when they said you’d make a great captain.”
She finishes, just a little out of breath. Yeji is staring at her, lips parted slightly.
“If you doubt your ability as a captain again, I’ll get mad at you,” Ryujin tells her.
Yeji shakes her head, her voice soft, wondering. “What did I do to deserve you?”
Ryujin shrugs cheekily. “Probably saved a country in your previous life. I don’t know.”
Yeji laughs, and Ryujin feels a sense of accomplishment wash over her. “Probably.”
They fall silent, Yeji taking Ryujin’s hand into her lap and playing with her fingers.
After a while, Yeji says quietly, “This year would’ve been hard without you. I’m grateful.”
Ryujin ducks her head, shy, while Yeji squeezes her hand, smiling at her.
She can’t always express her own feelings well, but she’s thankful to have someone who understands.
And because she likes being difficult on purpose, she says, “Are you glad we’re becoming friends?”
Yeji stares at her, then bursts into laughter. “Shin Ryujin!”
Ryujin shrieks as Yeji tackles her into her pillows, laughing. “Stop reminding me of that!”
She gasps and jolts upwards as Yeji’s fingers dig into a particularly vulnerable spot in her side. “Stop—it tickles—”
“Good,” Yeji says, and pokes her harder. Ryujin squeaks, sliding her arms around Yeji and dragging her down in retaliation.
The baseball captain lands ungracefully on top of her, their noses bumping a little painfully.
“Hi,” Yeji murmurs, propping herself up to look her in the eyes.
“Hi.” Ryujin smiles up at her.
“It is absolutely unfair that on top of everything, you have the cutest dimples I’ve ever seen.” Yeji’s thumb caresses her cheek, tender. “Seriously.”
Ryujin pretends to bite Yeji’s thumb in response.
“Stop,” Yeji protests, laughing. “Truce!”
“Truce,” Ryujin allows, dimpling at her again.
She’s finding it very difficult to focus with Yeji in such close proximity, her nose nearly brushing hers, blonde hair tickling her skin, soft breaths fanning across her chin. Her eyes dart down to Yeji’s lips, then back up again.
“Can I...?” Yeji asks softly, fingers brushing her jaw.
“Please,” Ryujin whispers.
Yeji leans down and kisses her softly, gently, cradling her face, as if she’s the most precious thing in the world. Ryujin’s body tingles all the way down to her toes, electric. She fists her hands into Yeji’s hair, drawing her closer, her senses filled with the citrusy scent of Yeji’s shampoo.
Slowly, Yeji pulls back, her cheeks dusted with pink, fingers lingering on Ryujin’s jaw. “Wow.”
Ryujin stares up at her breathlessly. “Do it again.”
Later, after they eventually get back to their homework, Ryujin looks over to find Yeji slumped over her desk, fast asleep, blonde hair spilling over the edges of her textbook, her normally sharp features soft and angelic in the evening light. She reminds Ryujin of a cat napping peacefully in the sun.
Ryujin gazes at her for a few moments, heart swelling with an emotion she can’t name.
Absentmindedly, she grabs a blank canvas and a pencil.
Their school’s baseball team reaches the finals for the first time in two decades.
From where she’s sitting in the bleachers with Yuna and Chaeryeong, Ryujin searches for Yeji amidst the celebratory chaos happening on the baseball field, only to find her already looking in her direction.
The older girl looks relieved, terrified, and excited all at once, and Ryujin aches to hold her in her arms.
A week later, as Ryujin is settling into bed for the night, her phone buzzes with a text.
Jisu [11.52 pm]
Have you heard from Yeji?
She types back, why?
Jisu calls her.
Ryujin picks up on the first ring. “What’s going on?” she demands.
“It’s probably nothing,” Jisu hedges, “but she hasn’t replied to me since dinner. And she was so tense during practice today, she barely said a word.”
“She’s really stressed about finals.”
“I know, but I was supposed to go over to her place after dinner to revise our defensive strategies, and her parents said she wasn’t home. Her car’s still in her driveway, though. It isn’t like her to bail without saying anything. I thought she might have been with you.”
“No,” Ryujin says slowly, thinking. “She last texted me around seven.”
Jisu sighs. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was at the baseball field again. But the school’s closed at night, so…”
Ryujin pushes back the covers and swings her legs out of bed. “I think I might know where she is.”
In hindsight, maybe she should have said yes when Jisu offered to come with her.
The taxi drives off, the driver looking dubiously at her through the window, as if doubting her sanity. Ryujin ignores him, steps onto the beaten forest trail, and tries not to think about how she’s entering prime serial killer territory.
She reaches the little forest clearing where they had their picnic a few weeks ago, when she’d drawn her second art piece on Yeji’s back.
Somehow, she isn’t surprised in the slightest to find Yeji sitting on the grass there, back resting against a gnarled tree trunk, legs drawn up to her chin, looking uncharacteristically small.
Wordlessly, Ryujin sits beside her, adopting the same position. Her sinks into the dewy grass.
They sit in silence for a while.
“How did you know?” Yeji murmurs, laying her head on Ryujin’s shoulder.
She reaches for Yeji’s hand, threading their fingers together. “Jisu was worried about you.”
“Jisu…” Yeji frowns, then jerks upright. “Oh, crap. I forgot! I was supposed to go over strategies with her at eight—”
“Hey,” Ryujin says sternly. “None of that. She understands.”
Yeji’s hand is tense against her own. “How could I forget? Finals are next Friday!”
“In a week,” Ryujin soothes, her voice low. “You have time.”
Yeji doesn’t reply, so Ryujin cups her cheek with her free hand, making Yeji face her.
“Listen. You didn’t get all the way to finals by pure dumb luck. The team works well together, I’ve seen you guys play. There’s you, Jisu, and so many other good players on the team.”
Yeji sighs. “I know. But still…I’m just worried, I guess. The school we’re up against, they’ve placed first the last six years. And Coach says there’ll be college recruiters there. If I get a scholarship or something...well, it’d help a lot.”
“You know college recruiters also look at individual players, not just who wins, right?”
The baseball captain huffs out a breath. “Well...when you say it like that. ”
“If they don’t notice you, they’re blind,” Ryujin scoffs.
Yeji lets out a giggle at that. “You’re biased.”
“Am not.”
Yeji snickers, stealing a quick kiss. “I think you might be. Just a little.”
They watch the fireflies zip around in the air around them for a few moments, the chirping crickets filling the momentary lull in conversation.
“So why are you here so late?” Ryujin asks.
“Can’t sleep most nights,” Yeji admits. “Didn’t think there was any point being in bed.”
Ryujin frowns, displeased. “You need sleep to play well.”
Yeji gives her a sort of half-hearted shrug. Ryujin’s frown deepens.
“Okay, come on.” She gets to her feet, brushing bits of grass from her , and holds out her hand.
Yeji looks at her, confused. “Are you leaving?”
“We’re leaving,” Ryujin corrects her.
“But I don’t want to go back home,” Yeji says, almost petulant, and Ryujin has to hide a smile. “My bed doesn’t help.”
“You’re not going back home. C’mon.”
Yeji pouts at her. Ryujin glares.
“Come or no kisses for a month,” she threatens, and Yeji’s jaw drops.
“That’s not fair.”
“Those are my terms. Take them or leave them.” Ryujin turns to walk away, and smirks to herself as she hears Yeji scramble up behind her.
“You don’t play fair,” Yeji whines again, taking her hand.
Ryujin intertwines their fingers and tugs, pulling Yeji in and kissing her, slow and sweet. “Sorry,” she murmurs against Yeji’s lips.
“Are you?” Yeji touches her forehead to hers, eyes knowing, fond.
“No.”
They reach the mouth of the forest, and Ryujin freezes in her tracks.
“What?” Yeji asks, somewhat alarmed.
“Walk in front of me. Right there.”
“O...kay?”
Ryujin curses her lack of foresight. Her hand itches for her pencil. She runs a few paces back, squats in the dirt, and stares at Yeji, perfectly framed by the trees arching above her, the fireflies winking in and out of sight in the inky darkness.
She closes her eyes. Opens them. Closes them again, and commits the scene to memory.
The taxi stops in front of Ryujin’s house, and Ryujin leads Yeji inside and up the stairs, straight to her bedroom. She digs through her closet, finds the largest shirt she owns, a pair of shorts, and tosses them both to Yeji.
“Um,” Yeji says, holding both articles of clothing and looking very confused.
Ryujin raises her eyebrows at her. “What? Go change. You were sitting in a forest.”
“But,” Yeji begins, bemused. “Um, okay.”
She heads to the bathroom. Ryujin changes out of her own clothes quickly as well, yawning widely. “Use the spare toothbrush in my cupboard,” she calls to the closed door, and hears a muffled okay.
After a while, Yeji emerges, dressed in the oversized shirt Ryujin wears to paint in sometimes, and it’s still a little big, even on her taller frame. Ryujin’s eyes dip down, and she swallows hard. Her shorts are just a little too short on Yeji, and her gaze travels down long legs that seem to go on forever—
“If you’re done ogling.”
Reluctantly, Ryujin brings her eyes back up to meet Yeji’s amused gaze.
“What now?” the older girl asks.
“Now?” Ryujin points to her bed. “Sleep.”
Yeji looks between her and her bed, looking a little flustered. “Then where are you going to sleep?”
“With you, stupid. Now sleep.”
A little hesitantly, Yeji climbs into her bed, under the covers. Ryujin joins her, stifling another yawn. She feels arms slip loosely around her waist, and she presses closer to Yeji, inhaling her familiar citrusy scent. Her head ends up tucked under the older girl’s chin.
She feels a laugh tremble through Yeji.
“What,” Ryujin says sleepily into her neck.
“Sometimes I forget how tiny you are,” Yeji teases.
Ryujin pokes her half-heartedly in the stomach. Yeji just laughs softly, pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of Ryujin’s head.
“Thank you,” the baseball captain whispers, “for coming for me.”
“Anything for you,” Ryujin murmurs, her eyelids already drooping.
Ryujin wakes the next day to sunlight streaming in through her window, Yeji’s legs tangled with her own, and the grating tone of her phone alarm. She jabs blindly at the screen until the beeping stops, and feels Yeji’s arms tighten around her waist.
“Do we have to,” Yeji mumbles into her hair.
She briefly contemplates skipping school and sleeping in, waking up for lunch in Yeji’s arms. Then she sighs.
“Yeah. I have a Bio test today.”
Reluctantly, she throws back the covers and gets out of bed. Yeji curls into the warmth she leaves behind in the bedsheets, then stretches groggily, her shirt riding up and exposing a good few inches of her taut midriff.
Ryujin bites her lip. Of course she has abs.
She takes in the sight of Yeji in her clothes, sprawled comfortably in her bed, and blushes hard.
“Sleep well?” she asks weakly.
Yeji cracks open one eye. “Better than I have all week.”
Ryujin smiles, relieved. “Good.”
She can’t help it; her eyes stray downwards again.
“My eyes are up here, you know,” Yeji says sleepily.
“I know.” Ryujin gives her an innocent smile. “Just enjoying the view.”
Yeji snorts. “Alright.”
She heads to the bathroom to get ready for the day, throwing on a loose shirt and shorts, ruffling her hair so it at least looks mildly presentable.
Yeji perks up when she returns, perched on the edge of her bed, and looks her up and down appreciatively. “Hey, beautiful.”
“Hi.” Ryujin lets herself be pulled into a kiss, smiling against Yeji’s lips. “Go get ready. You can take anything from my closet.”
While Yeji’s in the bathroom, Ryujin spots her baseball jacket hanging over her chair. Curiously, she shrugs it on. It’s a little big for her (her fingers just barely poke out of the sleeves), but it’s soft, comfortable, and smells like Yeji.
She wants to keep it forever.
Yeji re-enters, takes one look at her, and her cheeks go crimson. “Please keep it on.”
Ryujin grins, shoving her hands in the jacket’s pockets, happy. “Okay.”
When they walk into school together, the hallways are abuzz. People are staring, and Ryujin is annoyed. She sees the girl who asked Yeji about winter break on the first day of school gape at them as they walk past, and Ryujin shoots her a saccharine sweet smile, making sure she can see HWANG YEJI in big, red letters on her back.
Yeji takes her hand, brings it to her lips, and presses a lingering kiss to her knuckles.
“People are staring,” Ryujin says, even as she intertwines their fingers.
“So? Let them.” Yeji squeezes her hand. “I’m lucky enough to be dating you and I want everyone to know that.”
Ryujin tries to ignore the flutter in her stomach at her words. “I think your fanclub might be in shambles,” she says instead, lightly.
“I don’t have a fanclub.” Yeji laughs, as though she finds the notion ridiculous.
Ryujin looks pityingly at the crestfallen looks on some of the students’ faces as they walk past them.
Yeah, right.
A week passes, and the school’s baseball team plays their final game of the tournament.
Ryujin grips the railing before her, nerves fraying at the edges. A few metres in front of her, Yeji stands poised to pitch, her face an unreadable mask, eyes narrowed in concentration.
“It’s going to be okay.” Yuna tugs at her left sleeve, but she sounds unsure.
On her right, Chaeryeong has a vice-like grip on her forearm.
Yeji’s arm snaps downwards as she hurls the ball, and it whizzes through the strike zone, landing in the catcher’s heavy leather glove with a solid thunk, the batter on the opposite team swinging just a little too late.
Ryujin lets out a tense breath.
Yeji throws the ball again, and it curves meanly in the air, barely grazing the end of the strike zone. Strike two.
“Your girlfriend is so cool,” Yuna whispers reverently beside her. Ryujin nods distractedly.
Yeji pitches the ball a final time. The batter swings, her bat finally connecting, clipping the edge of the ball as it spins through the air.
The ball flies rather feebly, landing somewhere infield and rolling to a stop. The batter sprints wildly towards first base, but Jisu darts towards her, ball in hand, and taps her out before she can get there.
Yuna looks at Chaeryeong, this time. “Your girlfriend is so cool.”
“That’s three of their batters out,” Chaeryeong says. “They’re switching sides.”
Ryujin presses a hand to her forehead. Yeji’s pitching and Jisu’s reflexes have maintained the score, but their team is still down a point.
Never in her life did she think she’d be so stressed out over a sport.
In the second half of the seventh inning, the score is still three points to four.
Jisu waits tensely on third base, face drawn, fists clenched. Yeji, the team’s final batter, stands on the home plate, bat at the ready.
“If both of them reach home plate, we win,” Yuna says in a sudden, excited whisper.
“But if Yeji strikes out then we lose, right?” Chaeryeong whispers from the other side of her.
“She won’t,” Ryujin says firmly.
“If she plays safe, we’ll tie for sure,” Yuna says. “She’s one of the best batters on the team.”
The ball sails towards Yeji, and she swings big and wide, missing.
“She’s trying for a home run,” Ryujin realises, and her stomach knots itself into anxious twists.
Opposite Yeji, the pitcher smiles, tall and intimidating, as if she’s realised this too.
The ball comes at Yeji again, fast and hard, and she misses again, swinging in a similar fashion.
“Oh my god, I can’t watch anymore.” Yuna peeks out from behind her hands.
The pitcher throws the ball again. Yeji swings.
The ball soars.
Ryujin’s heart slams against her ribcage as she watches Yeji sprint from base to base, the same wild, ecstatic smile on her face whenever she hits a winning shot.
The crowd roars as Jisu reaches home plate, then Yeji. They slam into one another, laughing and screaming.
Chaeryeong grabs Ryujin, shaking her violently, while Yuna throws her arms around both of them, screaming we won we won we won!
“Tell me you’re not crying,” demands Chaeryeong, squashing her cheeks together.
“I’m not!” Ryujin says, indignant, but Chaeryeong’s thumbs come away damp when they swipe across her cheeks. “I’m just—”
“Ryujin.”
Yeji stands in front of her, eyes shining, radiant and impossibly beautiful under the stadium lights. She’s grinning so widely it looks like it hurts.
Ryujin leans over the railing, fists her hands in Yeji’s baseball uniform, and kisses her, long and hard. Yeji’s hand cards through her hair, thumbing the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, her lips moving urgently against Ryujin’s.
“You did it,” she says breathlessly, when they’ve parted.
Somewhere behind her, she can hear Yuna giggling.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Yeji tells her, pressing their foreheads together, a tender hand on her cheek. “You know that, right? When it was strike two, near the end. All I saw was you.”
Ryujin closes her eyes, her chest blossoming with warmth, the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. “I love you,” she whispers, half-hoping, half-fearing it will be drowned out by the din of the crowd.
But Yeji, focused on her and only her, hears her and smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear, her eyes so warm and adoring that Ryujin forgets why she even worried at all. “I love you too.”
One month later, Ryujin is setting up for the art exhibition. She looks at her five pieces, arranged on the wall of the school gymnasium, and smiles to herself, pleased.
“They look beautiful,” Jisu tells her, squeezing her hand.
Beside her, Chaeryeong nods in agreement. Ryujin feels a chin press down on the crown of her head and hands coming to rest on her shoulders, and she reaches behind her and squeezes Yuna’s hand.
“Which one is your favourite?” she asks them, even though she already knows the answer.
They all point to the canvas hanging on the top right.
“Is it because you’re in it?” Ryujin says dryly.
She’d drawn this on a day they were all in the art room, catching each of them in different states of candidness. Yuna with her hand to her forehead, laughing helplessly at one of her jokes; Jisu and Chaeryeong poring over a textbook together, Jisu’s hand over Chaeryeong’s while the dancer smiles shyly; finally, Yeji looking straight at the viewer, propping her chin in the palm of her hand, her gaze fond and affectionate.
(Yeji had opted to stare at her the entire time she was sketching this, she remembers).
“Is Yeji allowed to come in yet?” Yuna asks.
Ryujin gives her wall a final, critical once-over. “Yeah,” she decides. “I’m ready.”
“Wow,” Yeji breathes.
Behind her, Ryujin shifts from foot to foot, anxious. “Do you like it?” she asks, when Yeji doesn’t say anything else.
She steps around Yeji to sneak a peek at her face. The baseball captain is staring at the piece on the bottom left, her lips slightly parted.
“Is that me?”
Ryujin looks between her and the portrait, then snickers. “No, it’s some other girl I’m dating, sorry.”
Yeji just steps closer, looking at it in wonder. “When did you draw this?”
“When you first came to my room. When you first opened up to me.” Ryujin slips her arms around Yeji’s waist, resting her chin on her shoulder. Yeji’s hands come to rest atop hers, thumb rubbing absentminded circles into her skin.
She’d drawn Yeji sleeping on top of her textbooks that day, golden hair spilling artfully down her shoulders, sunlight lending the room a soft glow.
“Ryujin, I—” Yeji sounds a little choked up, and Ryujin presses a kiss to the base of her neck. “I love you.”
“I love you,” she murmurs back.
Yeji looks at her other pieces: Byullie and Dallie, playfully wrestling on her couch amidst the cushions, the little forest clearing they’d had a picnic in, the four of them around their table in the art room, and the last one she’d drawn of Yeji standing at the mouth of their forest, among the fireflies.
“Have I told you you’re amazing lately?” she says softly.
Ryujin just buries her face in Yeji’s shoulder. “Most of these pictures were because of you.”
“I didn’t do anything. I just gave you ideas. And my face, apparently.”
“Well, thanks.” She grins. “For the ideas. And your face.”
Ryujin takes said face into her hands, stands on her tiptoes, and peppers kisses all over until Yeji squirms.
“Stop, stop!” She laughs. “Wait, look, I have something for you. A present, for making it to exhibition day.”
She holds out a box, neatly wrapped. “Open it.”
Ryujin tugs on the bow. Inside the box are green paint jars of varying shades, from the brand she likes.
“I noticed you were out after painting so much forest,” Yeji explains. “And it’s your favourite colour, so I wanted you to have more of them.”
Ryujin doesn’t say anything, just throws her arms around her wonderful, thoughtful, beautiful girlfriend, who giggles softly into her hair, hugging her in return.
Miss Kang arrives to congratulate her not long after that, and Ryujin has to reluctantly step away from Yeji.
“These pieces are phenomenal.” Miss Kang beams at her. “I knew you could do it.”
“Thanks for believing in me,” Ryujin says earnestly. “It was hard to figure out what to draw at first, but…”
Her eyes drift over to Yeji, who’s still standing in front of her wall.
Miss Kang follows her gaze. “Ah,” she says, sounding amused. “I take it that has nothing to do with the fact that Yeji is in three of your pieces.”
“No,” Ryujin says innocently, “nothing at all.”
Her teacher laughs. “Nothing wrong with having a muse. Your wall is the best one here today, Ryujin. I’m proud of you.”
She returns to Yeji, only to find her talking animatedly with a well-dressed man, gesturing at her wall. Curious, she lingers behind them, listening.
“—I don’t know very much about art myself, but I really like the composition of this one. You see how she uses the flow of the stream to guide your eye to where she wants? She used acrylics for this one, but I know she used something to thicken the texture for these parts, to make them pop out from the canvas. I think it’s really creative,” Yeji is saying.
“Mm, I see what you mean, I think it’s especially effective here, and here by the grass,” the man says thoughtfully.
“Exactly! And she isn’t just good at using acrylics. This one was painted using watercolour. I think it just adds to the ethereal quality of the whole piece. Especially with the fireflies in the foreground. It’s my personal favourite,” Yeji finishes, smiling softly at the painting, the utter sincerity in her voice making Ryujin’s stomach do flips.
Ryujin can’t do anything but stare at her girlfriend as she continues to introduce each painting to the stranger. She didn’t think anyone listened when she started rambling about her art.
Yeji turns and finally spots her. “Oh, there she is! Ryujin, come meet Mr Kim! He likes your art a lot.”
“Please,” the man says, wincing a little, “call me Kibum. Ryujin, was it? You’re very talented.”
“Thank you.” Ryujin smiles at him.
“In fact, if you were a senior, I’d invite you to apply to the university I represent. But Yeji here tells me you’re just a junior.”
“Yeah, I am.”
Before she can feel too disappointed about the wasted opportunity, Mr Kim starts speaking again. “Well, how would you like to come intern for us instead during the summer?”
Ryujin’s jaw drops.
Mr Kim smiles, understanding. “I have to go look at the other exhibits, but get in touch with us if that’s something you think you’d want, alright?”
He hands her a sleek business card and walks off.
Ryujin turns to Yeji, still in shock. “Holy .”
Yeji laughs, taking both her hands and kissing her forehead briefly. “Hi to you too.”
“I don’t know how you did that—”
“No no no,” Yeji interrupts her. “That was all you. He loved your art. Also, guess what?”
The older girl is grinning at her, eyes curving into the pretty smile Ryujin adores. She humours her, of course, because Ryujin is soft for Yeji and always will be. “What?”
“He works for the same university that offered me a full ride!”
“Wait, really?” Ryujin feels a wide smile split her own face.
“Yeah.” Yeji pokes her nose playfully. “They want me to attend a few practices in July and August, so...see you in the summer?”
Ryujin raises an eyebrow. “Were we not going to see each other anyway?”
“You know what I mean—”
“I guess this is the end for us,” Ryujin says dramatically, putting her hand to her forehead. “It was nice while it lasted...”
She shrieks as Yeji grabs her by the waist, laughing and poking her in all her most ticklish spots. “Telling you about my weak spots was a mistake! Stop!”
Chaeryeong chooses that moment to return to Ryujin’s wall, takes one look at them, and walks away again, muttering, “Nauseating.”
“So, on the first day of class I asked you to paint your favourite place in the school,” Miss Kang says to the class. “Now, for our last class of the semester, I want you to do the same. Has your favourite place in school changed?”
Ryujin thinks it over, then smiles, dipping her brush into one of the jars of green Yeji gave her.
“So, what have you two painted today?” Miss Kang comes over to their table.
Chaeryeong goes first. “I actually painted the pond this time. Because...well. I don’t really want to say. It’s private.”
“I’m sure it is,” Ryujin says under her breath. Chaeryeong kicks her under the table.
“And it looks amazing.” Miss Kang looks proud. “You got the hang of painting really fast. Ryujin, how about you? Is that our baseball field?”
Ryujin smiles down at her painting. “Yeah.”
A student raises his hand, and Miss Kang pats her shoulder, before walking off to attend to him.
“Any particular reason you chose the baseball field?” Chaeryeong rests her chin in her hands, wiggling her eyebrows.
“The same reason you chose the pond.” Ryujin snickers. She still hasn’t told Chaeryeong she saw her and Jisu kissing there, but she figures now is as good a time as any.
Chaeryeong’s jaw drops. “Wait a minute, how do you know about that…”
Ryujin pretends not to hear, turning instead to the front of the classroom, where Yeji sits. The older girl is looking back at her, eyes twinkling. Ryujin feels her phone buzz.
Yeji [2:59 pm]
Hey beautiful
Tteokbokki after class?
no :), she types back.
:(, Yeji sends.
Ryujin looks up. Yeji is pouting at her.
The bell rings then, and she packs her things away, smiling wryly, saying bye to Chaeryeong and heading to the front of the classroom, where Yeji is waiting.
“Let’s go.”
“You’re mean.” Yeji is still pouting.
Ryujin kisses the pout off her lips. “You love me anyway.”
“Yeah.” Yeji smiles, intertwining their fingers as they walk out of the art room. “I do.”
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