Chapter Text
It starts like this.
Age six, at a playground that you’re pretty sure you’re starting to be too old for when there’s a cry heard from somewhere on the other side of the jungle gym. It’s easy enough to tell that someone’s picking on a girl you go to school with. Though she’s usually closer the front of the classroom, where as you’re usually toward the back and further away from majority. One of her pigtails is clenched in the boy’s fist and she’s begging for him to stop.
And you’re not really sure what compels you to do so, because it’s easier to stay out of the way more often than not, but the girl is crying and the boy isn’t stopping from the harsh tugs at her hair when she just wants to get away and it’s not alright.
Your fists are clenching at your sides, you march yourself right over to him and despite being smaller, your fist collides right with the boy’s nose. You didn’t mean to make him bleed but what he was doing was wrong.
Through the girl’s tears, she wraps her small arms around you - snotty nose and all - and it’s hard to understand her words but she mumbles something resembling what you think is a thank you.
And it’s unfamiliar and she’s unfamiliar.
But she doesn’t seem so bad.
You hug her back.
.
Jiwoo clings to you after that.
She squeals with delight when she sees you, wraps you up in hugs, holds your hand and it’s just normal. It’s just her and who she is.
You find that you don’t mind, not really. She’s nicer than the other kids at school, she always chooses you first, and she doesn’t ever seem to be brought down by your innate grumpiness.
She was often made fun of for being too happy, too bright, too loud. None of it bothered you.
You liked it, even.
The two of you balanced each other out.
At the end of each school day, you find that saying goodbye to her spurs on a sadness that’s hard to understand with every day that passes by.
Maybe it’s you that’s clinging to her.
.
There are things you just don’t question.
Like when your parents tell you to do something. When homework is due.
When the sun rises in the morning and moon rises at night.
When Jiwoo says you’re her best friend and that she loves you.
.
Your parents all think it’s best for you to both get involved in after school activities, separately. To maintain a little space from each other and make other friends, that it doesn’t always have to be each other because the chances are that it won’t always be just the two of you.
Friendships fall apart and aren’t like to last after high school and they want you to be able
to accept now the reality of how the world can really be.
Apparently going to school together, leaving school together and sometimes hanging out once classes have let out while also having weekly Friday night sleepovers is “too much”.
It’s a disagreement that spans on over a bit of time.
Spending time with people you barely know doing something you barely enjoy doesn’t seem like a good time at all.
But you settle for joining the soccer team while Jiwoo joins choir.
“This sucks,” you mumble through gritted teeth, hands firmly shoved in your pockets as you kick the ground beneath your feet.
It’s the first day you’ll be going in directions once classes end, and there’s honestly nothing more you’d rather do than just turn around now with Jiwoo by your side and her hand tangled in yours as leave here for the day.
Jiwoo’s standing across from you, an uneasy smile twisting at her mouth and this is hard for her too but you know she’s looking forward to something new. At least a little bit. She sings all the time, all the time. That when she isn’t around, the world feels far too quiet without the gentle humming somewhere near your ear. Or the loud singing she bursts out with more often than the soft humming of songs. Regardless, there’s a void of everything when Jiwoo’s not there.
“It’ll be okay, Jungie,” Jiwoo whispers, planting a quick peck of her lips against your cheek and a hug for good measure before she’s heading back into the school building.
Not without a promise to call you later after homework.
So it doesn’t end up being all that awful, you like the other girls on the team and you’ve always liked soccer well enough and maybe it’ll be kind of cool.
When you’re settled in bed for the night the promised text from Jiwoo comes in and you can’t help but feel comforted at the words. Because, yes, you had a good time with what you were doing as well but you still missed her more.
This afternoon was really fun! I still like being with you more!!!!
Complete with a dozen heart and smileys.
Something you hope never changes.
.
All it takes is a simple poke to your cheek, or three, for Jiwoo to get your attention. It never takes much. You’re always so hyper aware of her. Sometimes you just pretend to ignore her because it’s cute when she pouts and you want to see the way her cheeks puff out a bit and the way her eyebrows crinkle a bit.
Though you always immediately have to make sure there’s a smile right back on her face afterwards. You hate seeing her sad. Or anything less than happy.
You’re sat at her family’s dining room table doing homework. Trying to, except Jiwoo has other ideas because while you’re working diligently on maths she’s distracted by something or other. Which isn’t necessarily a new occurrence. You should be used to it.
Sometimes when you’re focusing too hard on something, you puff up your cheeks a bit. You don’t notice it this time until you feel her finger press against the skin of your face.
You groan at her relentless attempts but she doesn’t flinch away, she never does, “What?”
Your tone maybe isn’t as nice as it could be but Jiwoo’s really on another level right now and you’re starting to think that it could be a good idea to hide all the candies and those sugary sweet strawberry drinks she loves so much somewhere she can’t possibly find them.
Jiwoo rolls her eyes at your feigned annoyance, something that doesn’t phase her at all anymore. She knows well enough at this point that you’re kind of all bark and no bite - except when it came to that kid on the playground when you were way younger. When it came to protecting her.
“What do you think about soulmates?”
It’s not something you’ve thought too much of. There’s an allure to it, you guess. There being that one person out there that’s meant to be your perfect match. Your other half, so to speak.
Then on one hand, is it fair to the other people you could be right for. That could be right for you, to so tightly hold on to the thought that they’re not quite that perfect match. It’s a lot
to live up to.
“We could be soulmates.”
Jiwoo has a knack for being kind of a hopeless romantic. Squealing over the couples sharing their first kisses in the dramas and shows she ropes you into watching with her.
“We’re still young though, right?”
You don’t notice the way her smile falters just a bit before she’s nodding to your words, “But you never know.”
.
We could be soulmates.
Jiwoo’s words haunt you for as long as you let them. And you’re banging your head against the wall at being so quick to dismiss the idea.
We’re still young though, right?
There was so much idiocy in your seemingly harmless question. It wasn’t harmless though. It was your own denial of thoughts at what Jiwoo could and probably does mean to you manifesting itself into idiotic words.
You were regretting what you said now because as soon as that question had been put out there, something changed. The smallest, smallest shift. It felt like Jiwoo was distancing herself from you.
You both had your separate activities, of course, it this wasn’t that because you’d still been making time for each other and you can accept that you have a life outside of each other.
It could have been nothing at all and when asked, Jiwoo would laugh it off and say you were being silly but that rift was there. You know it. Could feel it like a punch to the face.
Her laugh would sound hollow and there wasn’t a shine to her eyes when she’d smile. Something had changed. It was your fault.
And now you were watching her fawn over an upperclassmen.
Ha Sooyoung.
You detested her. Only you didn’t at all, because she was actually cool and talented, and beautiful and it made sense why she was starting to eat up a lot of Jiwoo’s time and attention. Most of the student body wanted to be in that place. Everyone except you.
All conversations with Jiwoo ended up leading back to her.
Sooyoung-unnie this and Sooyoung-unnie that, and there was a possibility you might combust if you had to hear her name one more time and you undoubtedly would hear about her again because she’s everywhere.
Neither of you have practice or any other after school obligations on a day when you’re supposed to walk home together when Jiwoo tells you she had some plans spring up.
Normally you’d understand because more often than not these days, you make plans with girls on the team or Jiwoo is hanging out with friends from her classes and it’s completely fine.
But Jiwoo can’t hold back her smile, her teeth showing bright and beautiful, and she’s practically buzzing with excitement that she can’t stand still her spot when she says she’ll be with Sooyoung.
That Sooyoung promised to teach her how
to dance.
“I could teach you,” your tone comes across as more defensive and strangled then you mean for it too.
And in fact, you love to dance and you’re nowhere near bad at it. Maybe you aren’t as polished as Sooyoung is but you’re still capable.
Your guard is up now and it’s easy to see that Jiwoo genuinely has no idea what’s going on or why you’re bothered. No idea of the.. jealousy that’s starting to boil up from way beneath the surface.
“Jungie...” Jiwoo takes a step toward you, her hand resting against your forearm, “what’s wrong?”
Instinctively, your legs move on their own to take a step back from her and your hand finds it’s way into your hair, brushing it back in that motion that’s a telltale sign of yours to signal you’re nervous or irritated or have no idea what to do.
You shake your head, at a loss of words for something that makes any kind of sense. “Nothing, forget it.”
Then you’re walking away.
Jiwoo doesn’t run after you.
.
You spent your afternoon with some of your teammates and it helped you feel better. Instead of the inevitable despair going home right away to sulk would’ve brought you.
It had helped keep Jiwoo and Sooyoung at the back your mind. It was probably nothing but an innocent hang out.
But Jiwoo’s on your doorstep later that same evening and it’s premature to let a smile slide onto your lips at the sight of her.
There’s something off.
You’re so hyperaware of Jiwoo’s movements, of just how she is as a person. She’s easy to read and you know it’s the exact same for her when it comes to you. It’s impossible to hide anything.
So when Jiwoo doesn’t leave after you’ve exchanged apologies and hugged it out, sirens sound off in your mind.
Because she’s shifting from one foot to another with a look of trepidation, like she has something else to tell you. There’s some hesitance on her face you’re not sure you actually want to know what’s coming.
Your stomach drops when a slight blush rises to her cheeks, the softest pink. Jiwoo runs her fingers across her lips and looks up to you.
“Sooyoung unnie kissed me.”
Oh.
There’s that sharp pang of jealousy again digging into your side, clawing at you with fervor.
That sinking feeling in your stomach only grows more intense and you feel like you might vomit. Or cry. Probably both, later, when Jiwoo’s gone and you’re by yourself.
All alone, alone, alone.
She’s expecting you to say something but you just can’t figure out what to say, scared of the bile that will rise up instead of words if you even try to speak.
“Oh.”
You’re not sure what she’s wanting from you, if anything, which would be fine because you don’t think there’s anything you can give.
A congratulations? A hug? Telling her that you’re happy for her.
“That’s all?”
It’s hard to meet Jiwoo’s eyes, afraid of what you might see there. What you see isn’t what you’re expecting. There’s a coldness and a sadness swimming in those big, big eyes of hers. You can’t figure it out.
On top of this, your own pain is making you feel breathless, “Yeah, uh- um. Maybe you should go, it’s getting late. I still have homework to do.”
Jiwoo’s looking at you like you’ve grown two heads and you honesty just want her to go home, “It’s Friday.”
Tears are starting to form in your eyes as you angrily swipe them away with your forearm, “I’m just tired. Goodnight, Jiwoo.”
You’re in love with your best friend.