Chapter Text
The first person to notice was, alarmingly enough, one of her students.
“Teacher!” the kid had gasped, shooting straight out of her seat the instant Han Sooyoung walked into the room. “T-That… That’s… Isn’t that a ring? A ring! On your ring finger!”
“Yes,” Han Sooyoung said, setting her laptop on the podium, “I’m aware. Did you read the assigned text for today?”
Most of them had not, which would normally make Han Sooyoung’s day horrible, but she had still been secretly riding the high of last weekend that she couldn’t even bring herself to care all that much. Considering how she was almost always in a bad mood during lectures, her students caught on far too quick to her liking—and tried to take far too much advantage of it, too. “Wait, wait, when did you get married?” one of them piped up, in the middle of Han Sooyoung handing back their graded essays. “Is it to that big tall guy who sometimes shows up when there’s construction in the campus?”
Someone else, probably their friend, smacked them in the back of the head. “Don’t be stupid! Teacher doesn’t even like men!”
“I’m right here.” Han Sooyoung dropped their essay onto their table. “If you don’t pull yourself together in your next paper, you’re going to fail this course, kid.”
“I think it must be that lady, you know, with the huge muscles,” they went on, apparently not having heard a word Han Sooyoung just said. “And the really nice shoulders, and—”
“It can’t be her! She and Teacher are always getting into fights,” someone else reasoned. Han Sooyoung couldn’t even say anything, partly because this student got a decent grade on their paper and partly because, well, they were right. “What about that doctor? The one with the white hair? I see her all the time in the infirmary here, and—”
“Quiet. Down.” Han Sooyoung went back to the front of the lecture room, sighed, massaged her temples, and pulled up the PowerPoint presentation for today. Happy thoughts! Happy thoughts. “I gave none of you permission to discuss both my personal life and my fashion choices, so why don’t we get a move on with today’s novel, which apparently none of you read. As usual.”
She wasn’t really angry, though, something both she and her students knew, because if so she would have just walked out of the room in a fit of irritation. At least no one was stupid enough to comment whenever she found herself staring down at the ring on her hand, or absently twisting it around her finger, as if to make sure it was still there.
“Anyway, that’s why I think they’re going to be absolutely insufferable when I get back,” Han Sooyoung groans, her face pressed against the tabletop. “Do you think I can just, not show up to work? Forever? I helped save the world, I can do that, can’t I?”
“That’s called getting fired, Sooyoung-ssi,” Yoo Sangah says, from where she’s idly frying eggs on the stove, because she keeps insisting on proper breakfast foods from now on. Han Sooyoung is starting to regret this arrangement already. What sicko would wake her up at a reasonable hour of the morning and make her eat a reasonable amount of meals in a day? “Today’s your last day of freedom, so may as well savor it while you can.”
“How can I savor it? You woke me up before noon.”
Yoo Sangah only smiles. She transfers the eggs from the pan to some plates, sets those down on the table, and—because she’s disgustingly sentimental and Han Sooyoung is never going to get used to this—plants a kiss on the crown of Han Sooyoung’s head before she sits across from her by the table. “Proper breakfast foods and healthy sleeping habits. Think about your circadian rhythm, Sooyoung-ssi.”
“Will you stop calling me that? We’re—” and here Han Sooyoung still has to take a deep breath and psych herself up before she can actually say the words—“married already, you know.”
She’d been expecting it, but something in her chest goes warm at the smile that spreads on Yoo Sangah’s face. “You’re right. We are,” she says, like she still can’t believe it herself, one hand moving to rub the grooves of the ring on her finger at what looks like a new little habit of hers. Han Sooyoung would make fun of her for that, but then she’d just be hypocritical. “Sooyoung-ah. Eat well and sleep well.”
“I know, I know,” Han Sooyoung grumbles. She picks at the eggs, trying to work up an appetite. She’s grown used to going without breakfast for most of her life, but… well, maybe a change here and there isn’t so bad. Especially if it’s Sangah cooking for her.
“Tomorrow,” Yoo Sangah says, “you’ll be doing breakfast.”
“What!”
“What? It’s only fair. I did it today, so it’ll be your turn tomorrow.”
Han Sooyoung stares down at her eggs. She has never felt quite so betrayed in her life.