Work Text:
Chaewon is no stranger to college life.
Working at a 24 hour convenience store on weeknights near one of Tokyo’s biggest universities, and of course, being enrolled there herself, she’s well versed in the oddities that come as a result of this transition from child’s play — high school — to the full on study grind. The first step, or stumble, in many cases, into the adult world.
These oddities take the form of people, people who come in at the most random of times, buying premium ramen and fucking nutella, insisting it’s the most godtier combination of foods — Chaewon, understandably, has not tried this vile concoction and does not plan to. Ever. There are more normal people, sometimes, who buy fresh soup, sashimi, onigiri, or even bento. It’s times like these that Chaewon eyes them enviously — she’d been scolded for taking a pack of salmon nigiri home one time — as she scans the packets, trying desperately not to salivate over the food.
Most of them come and go, far too many people, not nearly notable enough for Chaewon to remember faces even minutes after they’ve left the store or made a purchase.
Most, however, does not apply to one dubbed Kim Isopod . The most recent object of Chaewon’s intrigue, however clueless said girl is to it.
There are two reasons behind her nickname. The first, being that one time Chaewon had caught sight of an identification broach on Kim Isopod’s backpack reading the surname Kim, and then a given name she couldn’t quite see at her angle under the glimmer of the shitty convenience store lights.
The second, is that Kim Isopod’s visits to the konbini are limited to exactly half past 1 in the morning to 2 am sharp. This, as any self respecting person who holds themself in any kind of educated esteem would know, falls under the time period of real isopod hours.
Real isopod hours, as cited by urban dictionary, is the time of night when people come out in search for food. And so Kim blank was christened Kim Isopod, as much like the sea floor crawlers Chaewon has dubbed her relative to, she dines when it is dark.
Kim Isopod has never once been early or late to her nightly konbini trips, and most times, she makes a selection from the vast fresh bakery section, often opting for sweet buns or rolls. Chaewon envies her, because whenever she eats sugar after about six pm, she wakes up with a puffy face. Kim Isopod’s face, regardless of puffiness, is perpetually adorable.
Not in a gay way, of course, but adorable nonetheless. She’s objectively attractive, Chaewon finds. Chaewon, of course, is the prettiest, but she thinks if they were keeping score, Kim Isopod would come close.
There’s only one problem: Kim Isopod probably hates Chaewon. And she can’t figure out why for the life of her.
The signal of someone entering the store rings loud and Chaewon is jolted out of her thoughts. She fiddles with the hem of her shirt beneath the counter. Checks the time on the ten dollar cherry blossom digital clock, and tries to do anything but look at the store’s new occupant. She already knows who it is, there’s no one else who comes in this time. What is unfamiliar, however, is the loud clunk-clunk of the shoes Chaewon assumes Kim Isopod is wearing. Chaewon decides she will try and spot them when the girl comes up to the counter.
Chaewon wonders if Kim Isopod is much like her deep sea namesake, eating a lot all at once every morning at just past 2am and then going without food for the rest of the day (though isopods do fare far longer without sustenance). It’s plausible, and perhaps if she were in the girl’s good graces she would feel like she could ask.
But she’s not, Chaewon reminds herself bitterly. No, they are nothing more than strangers. Not even acquainted. How utterly embarrassing it is to think so much about someone who’s given name you don’t even know.
For all Chaewon knows about Kim Isopod, she might not even be eating all the food she buys. Maybe she has a boyfriend at home who she shares it with. The idea brings a foreign, sickening sort of feeling to Chaewon’s stomach, though she couldn’t tell you why.
She busies herself with dusting the already spotless counter and poking at the part in the wall that’s bound to give in if she continues until the visitor steps up to the counter, placing each item she’d selected — meticulously, Chaewon is sure — in front of her. A six pack of custard buns and spicy beef ramen. And a bottle of lychee ramune. Chaewon’s favorite flavor.
Chaewon allows herself to look up.
... and up.
... and up some more.
What the fuck?
Kim Isopod, while she’d been a bit taller than Chaewon, most certainly wasn’t... an entire meter taller than her. No, Chaewon knows this for sure.
She tries for a neutral smile, and while she can’t see through Kim Isopod’s blackout shades, the slight downturn of her lip is indication enough it was not well received.
“I had no other clean shoes,” The girl says offhandedly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and Chaewon was just delayed in realizing it. If she didn’t hate Chaewon before, she most certainly does now.
This particular statement has Chaewon wondering further, no more clean shoes?
Chaewon didn’t realize shoes required much care rather than a simple toss in the washing machine, particularly not if they’re fabric.
And furthermore, what use would a college student who is something adjacent to nocturnal have for... stilts?
Chaewon remembers reading somewhere that even the tallest pair of shoes fall short of the amount of height Kim Isopod seems to have amassed in 24 hours. But she’ll keep her doubt she harbors for this entire situation to herself.
“Bag?” She offers, just before completing the transaction.
Kim Isopod considers, eventually nodding belatedly. Chaewon scans the bag, carefully puts each product into the plastic bag one on top of the other, and passes it to Kim Isopod after she swipes her card against the reader.
“Thanks,” Chaewon chirps, the usual customer waveoff ingrained into her mind, “Come again.”
Kim Isopod mutters something indistinguishable to herself as she walks away. Chaewon watches, biting back a laugh, as she has to duck so as not to bump her head on the door.
Chaewon has been assigned longer shifts at the convenience store, where she’d previously worked until half past two in the morning from nine pm on the dot, her hours have been extended from eight thirty to three now. While her wallet most certainly is not complaining, her back, coursework deadlines, and sleeping schedule have some grievances with this new routine.
And, of course, her ranking in league. It’s enough to have to hastily stash away her switch while she’s trying to beat the newest level of the current kirby game she’s at — Kirby: Squeak Squad, bee-tee-dubs — but she most certainly can not bring her laptop into her shift and play her best if she doesn’t want to be fired in under five minutes flat.
Chaewon reluctantly bids goodbye to her gaming setup — really, just a glorified laptop that gets a little too hot on the bottom for her not to have bought a stand that sits over her lap while she plays in bed — and Hyeju, much less affectingly, which earns her an indignant yell into her headset, rapidly pulling it off but not quick enough for her to escape Hyeju’s wrath.
She rubs gingerly at her temple as she shrugs on her work slacks, silently cursing Hyeju for the damage to her hearing. She’ll have to get her back someday.
Chaewon almost forgets her switch, ends up running back to her tiny flat just off campus to shove it into her purse, which results in her being late for her shift, much to the girl — some nerdy weeb called Heejin who’s only about a month older than Chaewon but never shuts up about it — who’s got the shift before her’s chagrin if the series of angry texts Chaewon receives is any indication.
A girl stands in front of the store, and for a second, Chaewon almost has a heart attack, thinking it’s Kim Isopod. She steps closer and realizes it’s just an annoyed looking Heejin, who scolds her for being late like she hadn’t already outdone it with the texts. Whatever, Chaewon huffs, and Heejin threatens to dib on her to the manager if she seriously was late because she forgot her switch. Again. As if it were some sort of repeat offense.
Absolutely ridiculous.
Chaewon just rolls her eyes and tells Heejin she’s crazy, before sticking her tongue out once more at her and checking in.
Of course, Chaewon brought her switch. What does Heejin think she is — crazy?
Most certainly not.
Once she’s sure Heejin has left, she’d mentioned One Piece was screening their fucking fiftieth season tonight or something and didn’t want to be late, Chaewon relaxes, still on guard but allowing herself to check her phone every so often for Hyeju’s updates on scoring them a fourth team member in LoL.
It’s a Sunday night, so it’s not as if there are an insufferable amount of customers much like there are on Mondays and Wednesdays, but after about an hour, the absolute lack of people coming into the store eases her anxiety about pulling out the switch before midnight, and she settles onto the fold up chair she’d bought from the clearance section at the department store down the street, whipping out the console and booting it up.
“Ahem.”
Chaewon is jolted out of her Kirby-induced-trance, almost chucks her switch five feet into the air as she stumbles out of her chair and looks up at the counter, meeting the eyes of one Kim Isopod.
Chaewon chuckles awkwardly, stuffs her switch into her purse. On the counter lies no more no less than nine lollipops, a grape soda, and three milk buns. Chaewon tries not to judge, but it’s as if her mind just now registers how long it’d been since she’d eaten, and she flushes cherry red when her stomach grumbles embarrassingly loudly.
As if sensing this, Kim Isopod not-so-subtly scoots all of the products back a little further from Chaewon. “Mine,” she says, eyes narrowed.
Chaewon stares wide eyed, just nods, and reaches for the food. Kim Isopod doesn’t let up, only releasing her grip on the packaging when Chaewon insists she won’t eat it with the affirmation of her puffy-facedness should she have anything sugary after dusk.
“Thanks,” Kim Isopod mumbles once her payment has gone through, and their hands brush ever so slightly, not even a fragment of a moment, and Chaewon wouldn’t have noticed if not for the hyperfocus when it comes to this oddity of a girl, as she shoves all of the food products into the reusable bag she’d presumably brought with her and scuttles off silently, the only indication of her presence mere moments before the ringing of the bell when the door slides shut.
Chaewon finds herself staring after her, feels her skin prickling with something foreign. No, that didn’t happen. Yes, she’s imagining it.
“My roommate mentioned you,” Kim Isopod mentions offhandedly, as she deposits an absurd number of cup ramen packets onto the counter. Too many to eat in an entire night, even for Kim Isopod. The thought brings forth a disappointed feeling to the surface, will Chaewon not see Kim Isopod tomorrow night?
How many consecutive days has she visited here, now? At least five months, for sure. Chaewon can’t be entirely certain, though, because she doesn’t work Saturday and Friday nights, but Kim Isopod has, without fail, arrived at the store during every single one of her shifts.
“Wait,” Chaewon registers the words, “Your roommate? Do I know them?”
“Jeon Heejin,” Kim Isopod nods owlishly.
Chaewon stiffens, head jolting back to the staffroom as if the mentioned girl were to appear out of thin air and scold her, “Jeon Heejin?”
“Yeah. She says you’re always slacking on the job, playing on your switch.”
Chaewon purses her lips. It’s true. And Kim Isopod would know — she’s caught her many times totally acing the last few levels of Squeak Squad, and could easily lose Chaewon her job if she wanted to. Perhaps she hadn’t had that idea yet, and Chaewon doesn’t want to try her luck, especially considering the fact she’s still not quite sure where they stand, so she doesn’t mention it.
“Tell your roommate she’s a nerd, Kim Isopod.”
Kim Isopod stares, amused, at Chaewon.
“Kim... Isopod?”
Chaewon flushes, “Ah — Sorry. Slip of the tongue.”
“Come to this party with me,” Hyeju pleads, and Chaewon cringes at the tinny echoing of her voice through the mic.
Chaewon sighs, “Hyeju, I have a shift that night. You know this.”
“You always have shifts at night! Why can’t you take just one day off?”
“Because I don’t want to be witness to you and Heejin eating face again,” she deadpans. This is a perfectly valid reason, but not the real one, of course. Chaewon feels as if she would be doing a disservice to Kim Isopod if she were not there to be witness to her nightly konbini trips.
“Okay, okay. Fine. We’ll tone down the P.D.A.”
“Look, I’m just really trying to save. Working most nights works for me, I sleep, and then do my coursework and attend classes throughout the day and on the nights I have off. Please don’t mess up my rhythm.”
“You’re such a shut-in, unnie,” Hyeju groans, “Are there any days you aren’t working?”
Chaewon stares blankly at the Love Live! School Idol Festival 2022 calendar she’d been gifted for Christmas last year. The only marked free days she has are her designated days for studying, and then the eight day gap the store is closed from Christmas Eve to New Years.
She contemplates not mentioning it at all, can already feel the headache developing at the idea of sipping at lukewarm beer and the stench of weed that makes lying just a little entirely appealing, but Hyeju is her best friend, and Chaewon decides she’ll do this for her.
“Yes!” Hyeju cheers gleefully, “Come to Heejin’s new years party!”
Heejin’s new years party. If Heejin is hosting it... That means...
“I’ll be there,” Chaewon says quickly, then hangs up, before squealing into her pillow for five minutes straight, realize she’d forgotten to ask for the details, receiving them from Hyeju, and then continue kicking her feet in the air and grinning like a mad woman into her pillow.
Kim Isopod is acting a little weird today. Chaewon watches her debate animatedly with herself for the better part of 10 minutes before she decides upon tonight’s (?) feast. She is dead silent as she walks up, slowly, to the counter. Chaewon is almost afraid she’s going to pounce or something, but the situation appears safe after a few moments and Chaewon begins scanning the items.
She can feel Kim Isopod’s eyes on her, and Chaewon dares a glance up.
And then Kim Isopod meows.
Funnily enough, the first thought that comes to Chaewon’s mind is that she’s never known isopods to meow.
It’s not as if she even knows much about isopods to begin with, and it’s not as if Kim Isopod is an actual isopod either. The absolute ridiculousness of the thought has Chaewon bursting into laughter, eyes stinging.
“What?”
Chaewon blinks away her tears, exhales slowly, “Ah, nothing. Like, um. Sorry, I just ... had a funny thought.”
Kim Isopod nods slowly, and Chaewon thinks if she squints, the konbini’s lights shine down on the girl in such a way one might think she were blushing. Odd. Perhaps it’s a bit hot in the shop.
Chaewon silently scans the three packets of seaweed snacks, strawberry and banana mushi pan, packet of prawn chips, and large fresh sakana bento box that lie on the counter underneath her shaking hands. Shaking? Chaewon doesn’t shake.
Kim Isopod’s hands hover just over the array of packaging, before she looks up at Chaewon in question, as if she were about to say something.
“Uh —” She begins, and Chaewon blinks again. Kim Isopod’s cheeks redden infinitely more. Definitely blushing. Kim Isopod opens her mouth again, but Chaewon beats her to the punch, though in hindsight, god, she could not tell you the fuck why.
“A bag?” She offers, and kicks herself. This is so not good customer service. The customer is always right. So she should have let Kim Isopod speak first. God.
The girl presses her lips shut and nods. Chaewon can’t help the feeling of disappointment bubbling in her chest when Kim Isopod pays and walks off without another word.
Chaewon is drunk.
To her credit, she’s not too drunk. Just drunk enough not to think twice about making a decision which could potentially (read: definitely) have her mortified the morning after when the memories of it are brought back.
And so when she spots Kim Isopod, what else is she to do than walk up to her?
To her benefit, the dark haired girl with the soft cat eyes is alone, cradling a red cup of something Chaewon’s not quite sure of. So when she approaches her, there’s not really much to say. Other than “hi”, that is.
“Hi,” Chaewon says, and how she manages to slur a two letter one syllable word, she’ll never know.
“Hello,” Kim Isopod offers back, and then she surveys her with that owlish look Chaewon’s long become used to. It reveals absolutely nothing, and Chaewon finds herself furiously envying Kim Isopod’s ability to keep everyone she comes across — Chaewon assumes — on their toes.
Chaewon is quiet, just shuffles around the other girl and presses her back against the railing. It’s cold, pleasantly so, against the exposed skin, and she sighs into the red cup.
A glance thrown back off the balcony has the it-girl in her mind thinking: hey, this would be a pretty great place for a selfie, but she can’t quite allow herself to go forth with that idea when the prospect of Kim Isopod thinking she’s some social media obsessed weirdo who can’t go a few minutes without taking a photo is one that’s entirely unfavorable and at the same time appearing all too much of a possibility in her inebriated state.
Chaewon studies Kim Isopod. Perhaps it’s just under the rainbow fluorescent lights that flash out from the apartment, polluting the night sky, perhaps it’s just the way everything all seems a little more blurry, or perhaps it’s the way that she smells like patisserie, but Chaewon thinks she doesn’t mind Kim Isopod all that much right now. Not that she did.
She never minded her. In fact, Chaewon thinks she pointedly didn’t mind her. But if it were a scale, she thinks she would be at the peak of ner not-mindedness of Kim Isopod.
Kim Isopod.
Chaewon wonders, not for the first time, what her real name is. She supposes it’s to her benefit when Kim Isopod, after a while, notices Chaewon’s eyes lingering on her.
“What?”
“Can I ask you a question?” Chaewon bites nervously at the rim of her plastic cup, her tongue running along the ridges. It’s a bad habit, but there’s certainly worse ones.
“Sure.”
Chaewon just about opens her mouth before Kim Isopod adds to her last statement:
“If I can ask you one too.”
Interesting, but fair terms. Chaewon nods without hesitation.
“What’s your name?”
“Hyunjin. Now, my turn.”
“Okay.”
“Go out with me,” Kim Isopod — Hyunjin says.
Chaewon is silent for a few moments.
“...That wasn’t a question,” Chaewon states, because she doesn’t really know what else to say, because she doesn’t quite think this is real.
Kim Iso — Hyunjin, if affected by Chaewon’s lack of an actual answer, doesn’t show it. “You’re right, it wasn’t.”
“More of a proposal,” Chaewon muses.
Hyunjin nods thoughtfully, “Well, then. I maintain my proposal.”
Chaewon thinks Hyunjin’s confidence is amusing. She tells her as such. She thinks the way Hyunjin’s eyes turn up in crescents when she laughs is pretty.
It’s this that draws her mind back to the question. She considers it. Going on a date with Hyunjin. With all of her strange quirks and her meowing and behavior similar to that of a deep sea crawler. Well, her eating habits anyway. At least this answer’s Chaewon’s questions about whether Hyunjin was sharing her food with a boyfriend. The relief she feels with this realization is an answer in itself.
“Okay,” Chaewon nods, “I’ll go out with you. But — put my number in your phone and message me so I don’t forget this tomorrow, please?”
Hyunjin laughs and nods, typing it in with one hand while she sneaks her arm around Chaewon’s shoulder with the other.
Chaewon wakes up to a text message from an unknown contact, but the gif of a cat with the body of a pop tart and a rainbow trailing it as it soars through the galaxy is answer enough. She fills in the blank name.
- ! Park Chaewon liked Kim Hyunjin’s image.
Park Chaewon:
how did i get home lol
Kim Hyunjin:
really, I’m not sure. It was before midnight though.
no new years kiss. shame~~
Chaewon blushes furiously into her pillow.
Two days later, Chaewon pulls out her Kirby notebook from her purse, Hyunjin’s cheek pressed against her shoulder, wet hair dripping onto her clothes from standing in the rain while they waited for the train back from their date — she’d been oddly stubborn about this after Chaewon warned her she might catch a cold — and snoring softly. Oddly, she doesn’t mind it. Neither the snoring nor the wet hair.
She’s not that loud and they're old clothes anyway, her mind supplies. That’s definitely why.
Hyunjin had surprised Chaewon with two tickets to an old cat-cafe, and they’d been the only ones at the late night session. Perhaps it would have been a little awkward if not for Hyunjin’s uncanny ability to mimic the sounds the cats made. Chaewon had taken her to be an introvert, being able to recognize others herself, and she was not wrong.
But when cats, pastry, and hot chocolate were involved? Hyunjin was a force to be reckoned with. She’d spent most of the time conversing with the cats and drawing them towards her with some weird sort of cat-charm. Chaewon, quickly becoming witness to Hyunjin’s peculiar antics, was not surprised in the least that she had some affinity for cat-whispering. It was amusing, she’ll admit.
She’d even let Chaewon take a selfie of the two of them and post it on her instagram, They’d exchanged handles, and Chaewon was only slightly jarred by the profile photo with Heejin in it.
She quietly clicks open the pen, scribbles down the date, and begins a new entry.
2023年1月3日火曜日 (2023 3rd January Tuesday)
New info learned about Kim Isopod: Her name is Kim Hyunjin, she has a pretty smile, and she is absolutely crazy.
...and she reminds me more of a cat than an isopod. especially with the constant meowing. still cute, though.
but not as cute as me. definitely second. maybe.
Chaewon looks down at Hyunjin, eyelashes fluttering as she snores quietly.
definitely second cutest.
She supposes there’s some benefit to sacrificing her party-going nights for shifts at the konbini.
...Perhaps her observations of Hyunjin had been a little gay after all.
