Jongin knew something was wrong when Eunji didn't jabber his ear off during her usual morning greeting. Instead, her murmur of hello was so soft he almost missed it as she passed by him to hang her bag on the coat hooks at the back of the class. He didn't have a chance to ask her what was wrong before the teacher walked in to take attendance for homeroom. Instead, he shot sideways glances at her during the lesson. She didn't seem to be listening to the teacher at all, which was unusual, to say the least, since she was usually very studious, and the one berating him for dozing off in class.

 

When she finished her homework during the study period, she did not slide her seat over to his desk to bug him, choosing to bury her head in her arms, ignoring his subtle attempts to talk to her.

 

Fine Art was the last class before lunch, and it cemented his desire to figure out what was wrong. 

 

In addition to being a straight-A student, Eunji was very gifted with a brush. Or a pencil. Or pastels. Heck, she could doodle with a stick in some dirt and it would still come out looking ten times better than the products of the sixth-grade art classes.

 

The thing was, she usually worked with brilliant colours, reflective of her cheerful personality. Today, however, her painting was full of melancholic shades of blue. It was a bird of some sort, perched on a branch, beak parted in song. As he watched (neglecting his own work, since he had long given up trying to rescue a house out of the dark blob in the middle of his paper), she added more thick brush to the page, creating texture and depth until he half-expected the animal to fly out of the page.

 

The bell rang before he could say anything, and she dropped the brush like a hot piece of coal before running out the door.

 

 

 

He was relieved when he found her sitting under their tree as usual, because had had half expected her to have run off somewhere different to be alone. He took the fact that she hadn't as a sign that she still wanted his company.

 

Tentatively, he approached her, suddenly unsure of what to say.

 

"Meo died yesterday."

 

Her head was down, but Jongin could tell that she had been crying from the clogged quality of her voice. 

 

"Meo?" he asked, rather dumbly, since he didn't how else to reply.

 

"My parakeet. He's been sick for a while, but it was still- " she sniffed, not finishing the sentence. Jongin sat down beside her, feeling more awkward by the second.

 

"...I'm...sorry," he said after a moment, but it didn't seem enough. He felt even worse when she didn't respond. More to give himself something to do than anything, since he suddenly didn't feel very hungry, he opened his lunchbox to reveal two gimpbap rolls. Looking over, he noticed that her lunch was nowhere in sight.

 

"Do you...want some?"

 

She shook her head with a small, sad smile. "No thanks."

 

He nodded, before helping himself to a piece of the roll. However, he found that the food was tasteless and felt strange against his tongue, and that he was practically forcing it down his throat. He replaced the lid of the box and put it away, and turned towards her to attempt to start a conversation, only to realize with horror that tears were once again flowing down her cheeks.

 

Catching his flabbergasted expression, Eunji hurriedly tried to hide her face behind her hands. "I'm s-s-sorry, I'm being silly, I'll u-u-understand if you want to g-go somewhere else today-"

 

By now, Jongin was starting to panic. He dug through his pockets for something, anything, that might cheer her up. Instead, he only found a few candy wrappers and the MP3 player his father had gotten him for his birthday. In desperation, he plucked off the headphones and turned up the volume.

 

'Baby don’t cry, tonight

eodumi geodhigo namyeon

Baby don’t cry, tonight

eobseotdeon il-i dwell geoya...'

 

Before he really knew what he was doing, his limbs were already moving to the music. He watched her anxiously as he danced, hoping that this would at least take her mind off her pet for a moment. He had never danced in front of anyone other than his family and his mirror before, but embarassment was shunted to the back of his mind for the moment.

 

'So baby don’t cry, cry

nae sarangi neol jikilteni'

 

Their eyes met, and, to his relief, hers were not spilling tears anymore. Instead, they were round with surprise. 

 

Unfortunately, this meant that he wasn't exactly looking where his feet were leading him, even as they wedged themselves beneath a thick root of the old oak, causing him to tumble ungracefully onto the grass. He clambered up quickly, embarassed, patting away dirt on his clothes.

 

For some reason, Eunji wasn't laughing at his fall. Instead, she still wore the same surprised expression.

 

"I didn't know you danced."

 

"I don't." 

 

He spluttered at her raised eyebrow, staring at the grass and scuffing his shoes. "I mean, I don't really. I mean, it's just a hobby. Not really. I mean-"

 

"You're really good at it."

 

His head snapped back up to find her smiling. She picked up his music player from beside her, and extended it to him. "Do you know any fast ones?"

 

He was stunned for a second, but then smirked as he took the device from her. He scrolled quickly through the playlists. "Lots."

 

That lunch was spent with Eunji firing off requests one after another, and him being only too content to comply. When they went back inside, Jongin was sweaty and tired, but happy, because for some strange reason, his dancing had put her usual grin back on her face.

 

From that day on, he started taking dancing more seriously. At the time, his rationale was that he wanted to be prepared, just in case Eunji ever needed cheering up again. 

 

Years later, he would realize that it was because she showed him that people could appreciate his passion, and that he didn't need to brush it off as 'just a hobby'.

 

 

 

--

 

FLUUUFFFFF. CHOKE AND DIE ON THE FLUUUFFFFF---

This series is going to be more episodic and scenario-like. There will be an overarching storyline, but it's not going to be plot-driven. 

...I think I kind of at writing character-driven things like this though. OTL OTL OTL

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- Ace