Chapter Text
Yooyeon digs her heels into the paving outside of the university hall. Her freshly printed student ID is clutched between her clammy index finger and thumb; it has yet to be used. Gaggles of excitable, chatterbox girls on the freshman high sail in and out of the revolving doors, arms stacked with goodie bags, flyers balanced in their hands. They've assembled into their cliques and it's only the first day of welcome week, three hours into the next four years of their lives.
A thwick noise cuts through the giddy conveyer belt of chitchat, and Yooyeon's sweat-slick fingers slip against each other. Immediately, she falls to a crouch — three hours in, she cannot lose her ID. There's a chill in the air, as if trying to hurry her along, but it only sends tendrils of her hair flying across her face. Her vision is covered with threads of black, her mouth is stuffed, and she cannot find the damn card amongst the trampled piles of sepia leaves. Yooyeon's stomach churns with rumbling acid; god, she must look possessed, scuttling around on the soiled ground, her coat's tail dipping into the shallow residue of a puddle.
"Looking for this?" Yooyeon's head snaps up; her breath shudders out in a misty curl. A student, blouse ironed crisply and hair pinned back into a flawless ponytail, dangles Yooyeon's student ID like an alluring treasure. The snooty way she peers beneath her round glasses at Yooyeon's shameful crouch is downright irritating.
As she rises to her feet, embarrassment blankets Yooyeon's entire body. She shrivels into herself as she tries to fashion her wind-tangled hair back into something respectable and mutters her thanks, expecting the stranger to laugh at her and be on her very important, social way.
But the stranger doesn't budge, eyeing the endless crowds with her arms folded square over her chest. She has a busybody impatience about her, one foot tapping restlessly into the paving. "Imagine losing your ID on your first day. University's no place to have your head in the clouds, you know?"
Grumbles already brewing in her throat, Yooyeon's preparing to tell this pompous, self-righteous kid to stuff her advice and storm off — when this girl does the impossible. She smiles at Kim Yooyeon. It's a polite, practised thing, like a handshake at a business meeting. Courtesy. Nevertheless, it's a smile, and Yooyeon can't help the relieved grin that breaks out onto her own face. Suddenly, with a smile, the girl looks far less haughty and a lot more like a timid eighteen year old just fumbling through her first intimidating day of university. She clutches at the strap of her Suseonhwa University branded tote bag so tightly, it's like she's worried one small blunder will void her place as a student.
"Gosh, it's so crowded in there. I'd rather sit through icebreakers than try to navigate that," The girl begins again, and Yooyeon sighs in weary agreement. It's honesty that she already knew, but she'd stuck out the commute here with a hopeful, open mind — she wasn't ready to admit defeat at the front door. "Um. Are you a freshman too?"
It's more than just a passing comment. Yooyeon's brain buffers with surprise; she only expected to force out a polite giggle and watch the stranger - empty small talk complaint already dissipated into air - twirl into the crowds herself. As a natural part of that moving body of students, flowing like a school of fish, already knowing their place. While Yooyeon dithers in the doorway. No, this girl is asking her questions.
"Uh… Yeah. You too?" Her mouth feels leaden, out of practice; the best socialising she's done in the last year has been humouring the chinwagging ajummas telling her she's too pretty to be serving tea in a run-down canteen. Whatever that meant.
"Yup. My name's Yoon Seoyeon, just moved into my dorm today, but I couldn't convince my roommate to come to the club fair with me so... I'm on my own. My roomie's really sweet, actually. An international student from Japan but she already speaks Korean crazy well. But she's so shy, like painfully, she nearly cried when I tried to convince her to come here. Sorry. I'm rambling. you are?" Her voice is tinged with a garbled nervousness. They're in the same boat. Two tiny fish caught on the fringes that don't know how to dive in.
"Kim Yooyeon." She says, and Seoyeon's lips curve upwards again, she bounces on her heels. "I… commute, so I came to campus today just for this fair." Her gaze hopelessly drifts back over to the ceaseless hordes of freshmen. Seoyeon makes an abrupt chuckle; her despair must be obvious.
She scratches the back of her neck, wincing in solidarity. Then her eyes flicker with an amusing, determined willpower. "Honestly… I'm only here for the Women in Sciences club and I need to get to their stall. Apparently they're handing out free exclusive badges."
Yooyeon's hair stands on the back of her neck — the speed her eyes lock into Seoyeon's own round ones must be startling, but she can't help it, even if it makes her new friend inch back in surprise. "You're here for Women in Sciences?" Seoyeon gives a slow nod, like she's being held hostage. Giddy relief floods Yooyeon's body, almost turning her stiff limbs to jelly. "Me too. That's — they're the only reason I came."
"Shut up?" Seoyeon gapes at her, the excited mania in her eyes now mirroring Yooyeon. She understands, so suddenly, how all the students flying in and out of the hall have such an elated, vivid excitement about them. "No way, what's your major?"
"Chemistry and education. I—" Yooyeon takes a beat, slows herself down. She tucks her hair behind her ears. "They're such a reputable and important club, one of the main reasons I applied here."
"You're kidding! Me too!" Seoyeon beams, her hand befalling Yooyeon's arm. Yooyeon near flinches away from the sudden contact, but holds her breath and bears it. "I'm studying biology. Shame we're not on the same major, but hey, we have the same goal today."
Nodding frantically, Yooyeon's excitement finally dims. As thrilling as marching into this new world with a companion will be, there's no way she can get herself to step foot over that overwhelming threshold. Her cowardice will lose her the first friend she's been lucky enough to make.
"Maybe we wait until that... dies down. Have you eaten yet? We could get a coffee or lunch together."
Whatever god has blessed Yooyeon's day with unbelievable fortune, she would like to kiss quite promptly. Seoyeon's eyes bulge as, in her state of dizzy shock, Yooyeon fails to respond to her unsure offer. She intakes a sharp, hurried breath. "Yeah. Yeah, that's a great idea."
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The last of Xinyu's suitcases has made its way to the top of the staircase, all thanks to Nien's performative biceps. While she had overtly insisted that the muscles were mostly for show and she wasn't actually hitting the gym everyday, Xinyu had decided to wear heels. On moving in day. That's almost as preposterous as their private student accommodation building refusing to fix the elevator on the first day of welcome week.
Oh well — all their belongings are intact, and Nien's muscles will only hate her tomorrow. For now she can skid across the spotless floorboards in her fluffy socks, squealing with the carefree joy of a teenager gaining independence for the first time. Her hands press across the wall-length windows, awed at the bustling cityscape view around and below them. A mystified child, her awed breath culminates in condensation on the glass.
"Get your sticky paws off the windows!" Xinyu chastises, and Nien ducks away with a mischievous grin. How comforting to have someone by her side, speaking her mother tongue, in an entirely unfamiliar city. Though Xinyu struts the streets with the calibre of a seasoned traveller, it's evident she's far more anxious than Nien about the whole "upending your entire life to study in a different country" thing. She sniffled and wailed into an embroidered handkerchief (Nien didn't know people still used those) for the entire taxi journey from the airport to their apartment, and even hysterically considered asking the driver to turn around.
Though Nien had cackled at her impulse and dramatics, she's been inside their apartment for just short of five minutes and her 'FaceTime Mom' alarm is already ringing through her ears. She shelves the homesick desperation for now, exploring the place with Xinyu hot on her heels.
It's a dreamy situation. When Nien took the plunge to attend university in Seoul, her main concern had been the dorm situation. Well, she hadn't been overly concerned for herself. The prospect of launching into an entirely unknown life was exhilarating, and making new friends is all part of the challenge. But she fretted slightly that her potential roommate may feel a little alienated; admittedly, Nien still doesn't speak Korean that well. So, to ease herself in, she dived into Suseonhwa University's online chat pages, in search of other international students looking for roommates and found… none other than Zhou Xinyu.
At first, she'd thought Xinyu's extravagant entrance to her DMs was some kind of scammy copypasta, with the stunning beauty of her profile picture and the scary amount of designer brands in her feed. But as they chatted more, the legitimacy of Xinyu's existence became very apparent. She's a dork with a heart for drama, hence the acting major. They spent the summer getting close, face-timing, planning their shared future. It's not that Nien doesn't love to decorate her space with all things cute and pretty, but Xinyu had a vision.
It's already coming to life. Once they've fully scoped out the apartment, arm in arm, ensuring everything was true to the virtual tour they'd revisited five times and they had not been remotely scammed (what, with the steep price they're paying for such a place), Xinyu crouched to her first suitcase and began to unfurl a gorgeous, intricate sun and moon themed tapestry.
"That's for the living room back wall, right?" Nien notes, dropping to kneel with minimal wincing at her sore limbs. Xinyu glances up at her, eyes twinkling beyond her sleek black hair.
"Exactly." Xinyu gives a satisfied, happy hum. Despite stretching the fabric out across her extremely long arm span, the tapestry is still crumped at one end. Nien takes the corner with her own hand and stretches the piece out to its full potential. "Oh, I'm so lucky to have you."
She chuckles off Xinyu's soulful proclamation, cheeks dusting with grateful warmth. They work in a perfect partnership — Xinyu directing from the carpet as Nien clambers the back of the couch to place their pre-purchased command hooks as straight as possible on the walls, then whining cross-legged on the floor as they try to detangle Nien's stacks of fairy lights.
"I'm starving, Zhou jie~" It's barely midday when Nien announces her hunger, sprawled flat on her back like a starfish. The fairy lights are laid in successfully straight lines, but neither of the two have the energy to pin them along the walls. "Oh my god, we can order our dream delivery food for the first time."
"Right!" Xinyu squeals. She'd been flat on her stomach, face buried into the carpet and hair strewn all over the place. Her arm flails for her phone, her long false nails scratch against her glittery case as she pulls it into her hand. Nien's already upright, searching her notes app for their collaborative list — 'Xinienz top ten dishes we have to order as soon as we get to Seoul!' Her mouth waters in advance, stomach grumbling with giddiness and hunger.
As she scrolls, every other list she's deliriously curated with Xinyu over late night video calls zooms past her sight. Touristy things to do, best nights out in Seoul, cafes for photoshoots, sports clubs we have to try for fun. She looks over to her roommate, lay like a string bean across their living room floor, heels traded for fluffy leopard print slippers, and flashes of the next four years of their lives whirl through her head on fast-forward.
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Two girls sit in silence on opposite halves of their bedroom. It's more apt to call each other 'co-existers of the same space' than roommates, but Nakyoung hopes that this awkwardness is purely due to the mere three… four hours? They have spent in each other's company. Even company feels too intimate of a word.
Though they'd been smothering and embarrassing, Nakyoung is somewhat glad her parents had insisted on making the ridiculous drive up from Changwon to help her move in. Her mother may have made a scene of bursting into tears as she was 'leaving her little baby across the country to live all by herself' and kissed her cheeks enough times to transfer her bold red lipstick onto Nakyoung's skin, but she had managed to win a name out of Nakyoung's reclusive 'roomie'. Park Sohyun. Nice. Cool.
Park Sohyun has vinyls on her shelves, and they're all niche. She has multiple monitors on her desk and a rainbow light-up keyboard, plus a literal keyboard, for like, music or whatever. Nakyoung feels it'd be dumb to ask what her major is but she's struggling to come up with other conversation topics. The books already stacked high on her bedside cabinet have ominous philosophical titles and she has not smiled once since she moved in, all by herself, a suitcase handle clutched in each hand and zero overbearing parents.
Nakyoung may be doomed. She's got a faded ketchup stain on the hem of her t-shirt and her slippers have goofy cat faces, tongue stuck out and all. She spent twenty minutes reshuffling the plushie army on her bed while Sohyun plugged a powerstrip into the wall and streamlined a neat set-up for all her electronics. Rehearsing different topics of small talk in her mind is starting to feel futile — whenever she glances Sohyun's way, it's like someone clamps her mouth with a zipper. Anytime she'd look at Sohyun and her stormy, unreadable face, her intimidating showcase of her music expertise, paralysing fear took root in Nakyoung's chest, fizzing urgently by her sternum, where a cat-charm pendant lies cold against her skin.
Deciding she looks a little gormless staring into space, even if Sohyun isn't doing much else, Nakyoung slides off her bunk and returns to her half-unpacked belongings. she rummages through already crumpled clothes and anime posters a little too geeky to expose herself with just yet. Deeply buried amongst the clutter is a small black box, a sheet of paper folded over and over and over kept beneath its lid. Her antsy palpitations slow as she runs her thumb over the frayed ribbon keeping the box together, and she finds a strength, a compulsion to try.
"Sohyun…" She begins, voice tiny, and clears her throat again when her roommate continues adjusting the position of vinyls on her shelf, oblivious. "Um, Sohyun?"
Finally, Sohyun turns to look at her. Her hair twirls cinematically, in that long wave down to her waist. Her lips remain firmly set, her abyssal eyes slightly widened in surprise. That same fear clenches at Nakyoung's chest, but she tightens her grip on the tiny box and urges herself to continue.
"There's an uh, activities and clubs fair on today, right? Well, I was wondering you know, if you wanted to go together, cos, yeah." Not too bad. Nakyoung smiles hopefully, proud of herself for initiating something.
The gap of silence that follows feels like a shrivelling popped balloon.
"I'm not really interested in going." Sohyun replies, her tone low and dulled. "You totally should if you want to, though."
Running her tongue over her teeth, Nakyoung lets her shoulders slump inwards. She didn't want to go. At all. What's the point in cramming yourself into an over-bright hall with a thousand sweaty bodies just to say yeah, I want to go to this club I've already researched and registered interest for, just to get an ugly sticker and flyer that will very rapidly become lost to the void that is the bottom drawer of her closet?
"I guess," She says, instead of just agreeing with Sohyun and admitting she too has zero interest in the flashy freshman fiasco, because if she doesn't commit to her choice, Sohyun will probably think she's a spineless wimp.
After making a big show of putting on her hoodie and slinging a stylish patchwork tote bag she got from a flea market over her shoulder and tying up her shoelaces for an extended amount of time in the doorway, Nakyoung accepts that Sohyun is not going to budge. So, unsure on her lonely feet in a brand new big city, she does not travel towards the centre of campus. She deviates off the path, away from the secluded courtyard of dormitory buildings, and makes a beeline for the nearest GS25. Maybe mint chocolate pepero, one of Nakyoung's favourite snacks, is a better way of trying to win over her new... co-exister of the same dorm room. Her supposed first friend of the next four years of her life.