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Chapter Text

Yeji was born with a gold medal in hand.

She had faced off against Olympic champions, pierced apples from 80 meters with her arch, and even shot out the candle on a birthday cake while being blindfolded once. But no amount of gold Olympic medals or World Champion titles could help her now.

She tried to smile handsomely. She liked wearing her white tracksuit with the inscription "Archery Olympic Champ" in red and blue thread across her back. It was a great achievement that she enjoyed to flaunt with no shame. For most, it’s the source of great admiration. In Korea, not many women had the talents to go this far in their archery journey, much less at the age of twenty-five.

What Yeji touched turned to gold, and what she wanted was served to her on a silver platter. However, when it came to the heart she was trying to tame, she always went back home empty handed. No matter what stunt she pulled, she just couldn't land the shot when it came to Jisu.

Grace's was a corner bakery tucked between a stationary shop and a yoga studio in Mapo. It had the storefront that looked Instagram-curated, mingled with the smell of vanilla, cinnamon and unattainable affection. 

That's how Yeji landed there only a week after it had opened. A stretching session in the yoga studio had lasted longer than planned, which left her and her personal trainer to wait outside. It was the first time Yeji's eyes took in the surroundings. Then it wasn't long before she found great interest in the pastries Grace's displayed. From sweet cupcakes to appetizing croissants, the warm bakery had just about everything to lure someone like Yeji in.

But it turned out the cupcakes and croissants weren't even the best delicacies the store had to offer. The cute store owner proved to be much more to Yeji’s taste. 

Eversince, she’s just been trying and trying… to no avail.

It was a Monday today, a fresh start of the week, when Yeji pushed the door open, greeted by the soft jingle of the bell and the scent of fresh bread.

It was barely 8:15 in the morning.

The place was already buzzing with locals picking up their morning coffee and pastries. It was a cozy chaos Yeji had come to crave more than she'd admit.

Behind the counter stood the reason she kept coming back.

She wore a pale blue apron dusted with flour, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, bangs tucked behind one ear. She looked calm and efficient. 

"Two raspberry danishes," Yeji orders, leaning against the glass case, "and, do you have anything shaped like a broken heart?"

Jisu scoffs. "I'm sorry, but we're fresh out of heartbreak today," she said with a mocking pout. "We do have some rejection scones left. They're very dry, though. That should be right up your alley."

Yeji grinned, barely capable of keeping her giddiness at bay. "I'll take twelve."

"I also do delivery, you know," Jisu suggested, impassive as she boxed the pastries. "You don't have to come here in person every day."

"I don't have to breathe either, technically," Yeji counters. "Yet here I am."

She handed over the box. "Thanks, Cupid. But next time, you can keep your flirty lines for someone who's interested and just order online."

Yeji took the pastries and her pride, what little of it was left anyway, and turned to leave.

"I'll be back tomorrow!" she announces, not a dent could be seen on her cheerful attitude.

"I'll make sure to wear earplugs," Jisu replied without missing a beat.

—

Outside, Yeji sank onto a bench and opened the box. The two danishes looked flaky, and very sweet. She collects some of the powdered sugar adorning the pastries and tasted it.

Everything was perfect. The raspberries were the perfect amount of tangy and sweet—exactly like Jisu's personality. She could be so sweet, when she'd greet customers and smile as they complimented her devine baking. She could also be slightly acidic, especially to Yeji when she desperately tried to command her affection. 

Yeji sat back, smiling to herself as she took a big bite of the danish. The flavors bursted in her mouth, and all of it reminded her of the cute baker who brought the pastries to life. May it be her adorable face, her perfect features, or her amazing—

"You're embarrassing yourself," her teammate Ryujin interrupted, appearing beside her like a judgmental shadow. "Again."

"Did you even try the danish?" Yeji offered it out like evidence. "It's so her! It's romantic, tasty... Ugh! The right balance of sweet and sour. Pastry is a love language, you know?"

"You confessed to her with a pun written in icing."

"It said, I knead you,” she explained.

"And she said, I doughn't feel the same way."

Yeji sighed. "She's so clever."

Ryujin rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless."

"Hopelessly devoted," Yeji corrected, watching as Ryujin licked powdered sugar from her fingers. "And tomorrow, I'm trying the croissants. Maybe she'll say yes to a girl with layers."

"What spell has she put on you?" Ryujin laughed. "Did she really bruise your ego by constantly rejecting you? Or is she maybe a magician?”

Yeji took the remaining danish she barely ate, shoving it into Ryujin's mouth. "Do you not get it? She's much more than a witch or a magician. She's Jisu, the devine baker."

Chapter Text

Unsurprisingly, Tuesday's croissant attempt was a total fail. Safe to say, offering baked goods to a baker who could prepare them herself wasn't... the smartest choice. But could Yeji truly be blamed? Her mind was wired to aim at targets, not decoding the mind of her little stubborn crush.

Then, came Wednesday. And with the same enthusiasm, Yeji woke up early in the morning for practice. Of course, she wouldn't meet her coach without stopping by her favorite shop before.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, adjusting the collar of her zip-up like it was somehow the reason Jisu wasn't in love with her yet.

"Maybe I should wear something softer," she muttered.

"Like what?" Chaeryeong, her other teammate-turned-roommate, called from the couch where she was upside down, legs over the backrest and phone in hand. "A croissant suit? Blend in with the menu?" she joked at yesterday's catastrophic scenario.

Yeji glared. "You don't get it."

"I do get it. You're having an Olympic-level meltdown over a girl who sells muffins."

Yeji scoffs before correcting, "She sells joy."

"And she's told you no. Repeatedly. Respectfully. And once with a sharpie on your coffee cup."

Yeji dropped onto the edge of the bed. "She didn't mean it."

"It said 'Not interested, Yeji.' in Hangul and in cursive."

Yeji laid back with a groan. "She's playing hard to get."

Chaeryeong snorted. "No, she's playing bakery owner who doesn't want to date a hot archer disaster."

Yeji sat up, interest suddenly peaked. "You think she thinks I'm hot?"

"That's what you got from that sentence, Yeji? For real?” Chaeryeong was exasperated.

—

Grace's was already buzzing by the time Yeji walked in. It was early enough for the air to still be warm from the first bake, but late enough that she wasn't the only customer. Not that she cared anyway. Today, she was here on a mission.

Jisu stood behind the counter, apron tied and bangs tucked, too busy refilling the pastry display like the fate of Seoul depended on symmetrical macaroons.

Yeji waited until there was no one ahead of her. Then she stepped forward, holding out a small bouquet of neatly wrapped herbs: mint, rosemary, lavender.

"For your scones," she said, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

Jisu looked at the bouquet, then at Yeji, then back at the bouquet.

"You brought me plants," she pointed out flatly.

Yeji beamed. "They're aromatic. Like you." Jisu’s face turned into a grimace. "I mean your baking! Like your baking."

Somewhere in the shop, a child screamed joyfully as a woman's coffee order was shouted over the noise.

Jisu took the herbs slowly, with lots of hesitation and confusion. "Thank you. But I'm allergic to mint."

"Oh," Yeji exclaimed. "That’s cool. I’m allergic too. You know, spiritually."

Jisu shook her head before setting the bouquet aside. "What can I get you today?"

Yeji leaned on the counter. "A date."

Jisu pointed to the door. "Out."

"Okay! Okay," Yeji raised her hands defensively. "Two raspberry danishes."

As Jisu packed them up, Yeji tried to think of a recovery line. Something that could be a mix of charming and confident. And of course definitely something non mint related.

Once she was done, Jisu handed her the bag without a word. 

"Hey," Yeji called out, intonation inclined toward something softer rather than flirtatious this time. "Do you ever take a day off?"

Jisu finally looked at her, eyebrows knitted. "Why?"

Yeji grinned. "Thought maybe I could shoot an apple off your head."

Jisu's mouth twitched. She’s startled by the improbable proposition. She regained her composure with a firm warning. "Do it in here, and I'll shoot you with a rolling pin. Capish?"

—

Outside, Yeji spotted Chaeryeong lounging by a coffee cart across the street, pretending not to be invested. Ryujin had started training earlier to prepare for an upcoming regional competition.

"She smile?" Chaeryeong asked as Yeji approached.

"Almost."

"So, a loss,” she concluded.

"It's a slow burn," Yeji corrected, unwrapping a danish. "It's romantic, you see. Kind of like a drama with lots of tension."

Chaeryeong took a long sip of her americano. "If this were a drama, she'd be dating your older sister by now."

Yeji just grinned. She handed Chaeryeong the box of pastries, a sly smile tugging on her lips. "Who knows, maybe in season two."

Chapter Text

The days had passed, Yeji was becoming more and more accustomed with Grace’s ways of functioning.

She was used to her routine and her shameless staring aimed at the cute bakery owner. That was until one morning, she wasn’t greeted by the same melodious voice. What she heard instead was at least three octaves lower than it should’ve been, a half note out of pitch, and a semitone out of range. Put it simply—it was totally not Jisu’s voice.

"Welcome to Grace’s, what can I get you today?" the not-so-attractive voice asked.

Yeji looked around, lost and perplexed. There was no cute bakery owner in sight, and quickly, panic set in her heart.

The voice belonged to a fairly tall, and lanky man. A total contrast to Jisu’s small but plump frame.

After a short moment of waiting, the man behind the counter smiled with compassion. To him, it just looked like a traumatized customer engaging in exposure therapy. 

He suggested sweetly, "We have a variety of great pastry options. They’re all homemade! Personally, I would recommend our pandan basque cakes. They’re really dense but quite tasty and filling!"

Yeji rolled her eyes. The guy sounded like he was about to refer her to a trusted adult. She didn’t need help with the pastry selection. Little did he know, the archery champion knew the entire menu by heart.

Eventually, she questioned, "Mansplaining lanky guy, where’s the cute baker?"

The man appeared surprised. "Who?"

"Where’s Jisu? The… cute little baker?"

"Oh!" Mansplaining lanky guy laughed, which did wonders to greatly reduce Yeji’s non-Jisu tolerance. He called out, "Jisu! Someone’s here for you!"

Soon enough, a small silhouette emerged from the back of the shop. "Hello," she greeted brightly before recognizing the repeat offender. "Oh. Yeji," she said monotonously.

"Hi!" The archer beamed. How could even Jisu’s shadow from afar look so cute?

"Was there an issue? You couldn’t order your danishes?"

"I wanted to order them with you?" Yeji justified.

"Seriously Yeji…" Jisu sighed. "I’m working. Order with Gyu."

The baker was already on her way back when Yeji inquired, "What’s he even doing here anyway?"

"It’s a volunteering program," she explained with boredom. "Just get your danishes and leave, Yeji."

The alleged Gyu guy stood there, as a dead lanky tree would. Yeji quickly ordered her danishes but when she walked past the door, she left with a regained thirst to conquer this new challenge.

—

So of course, Yeji had a plan.

Not just a vibe. Not a spur-of-the-moment, hope-for-the-best flailing of her metaphorical limbs. It was a real plan, with proper—and very real—steps.

She slapped a piece of notebook paper onto the coffee table. Ryujin and Chaeryeong stared down at it like it was a murder board.

Step 1: Volunteer at the bakery

Step 2: Impress Jisu with competence, humility, upper body strength

Step 3: Get a date

Step 4: Fall in love

Step 5: Win a Michelin star for romance

Step 6: Shoot an apple off her head with my arch

Bonus step: Get mansplaning lanky guy Gyu fired asap!!!

"Step 5 isn't a thing," Ryujin commented before questioning. "And the bonus step? Really?"

"I like the upper body strength part," Chaeryeong added. "That’s very specific. I like that."

Yeji pointed at the list. "This is how grown ups connect, people. Simple side-by-side labor. With shared flour and domestic tension. It's in all the K-dramas I watched."

"What messed up K-drama you watched could’ve inspired this horror?” Ryujin bit into her lunch with her eyes fixated on the list.

"Vicenz—"

"Nevermind. We don’t want to know," Chaeryeong interjected.

"Jisu runs a one-woman business and probably doesn't want your chaotic archer energy ruining her shelves," Ryujin warned.

"Which is exactly why I'm going in under the guise of community service!” Yeji clapped, proud of her revolutionary idea.

Chaeryeong frowned. "Did you commit a crime?"

"No," Yeji said. "But I can lie."

Ryujin gasped. "You know what’s an even better idea!" she starts, "You could commit an actual crime!"

—

Yeji’s new criminal life wasn’t easy to handle.

She tried it all: parking tickets, loitering, disturbance of public order…

Nothing worked.

Turned out this life of crime was much harder to pull off than she first intended. She felt like she was about to go crazy.

One night she had the marvelous idea to try breaking and entering in her neighbor’s apartment complex. But two minutes into climbing the fence, she felt that this crime might skip her community service ploy and land her straight up in prison.

Crime is a tough art to balance, and so did Yeji learn the hard way.

So this morning, Yeji decided to get her act together and attempt to execute her plan from a new angle.

The bell over the door rang at Grace’s with authority.

Jisu looked up from the espresso machine just in time to see the retired criminal walk in wearing a white apron and the most hopeful expression known to man.

"Absolutely not," the baker said immediately. She could already predict where this act was going to lead.

"Just hear me out," Yeji said, holding up a laminated flyer. "It's called 'Seoul Hands'. It’s a new volunteer program. Athletes get to help local small businesses on their day off. It's a bonding thing, you see. To build community."

Jisu squinted. "This flyer looks fake."

With a desperate sigh, Yeji gave up the façade. "I used Canva."

Jisu buried her head in her palms. "You spelled 'volunteer' wrong."

"Ah, yeah, that typo was made on purpose. You know, like to give the poster a... casual font vibe and all." Faced with Jisu’s poker expression, she capitulated yet again, slightly pulling on her sleeve with her closed fist, "Also, I didn’t attend University."

Jisu crossed her arms.

Yeji tried to smile less aggressively. "I'll stay out of the way, I swear. I just wanna help. You said last week you were short on prep hands. And Gyu might leave any time, you never know." Yeji threw a quick glance over Jisu’s shoulder, expecting the tall lanky guy to loom over some tray of unbaked bread, but she’s surprised to note his absence.

"That was me talking to the dough. I wasn’t talking to you, and it was much less of an invitation in my kitchen," Jisu affirmed.

"Dough needs empathy, Jisu. I can bring that." Yeji pleaded in a sultry voice.

A long silence stretched between them. Yeji stood perfectly still, her eyes more hopeful than a kid who’s promised a DisneyLand trip. Jisu sighed the sigh of a woman who knew she was making a mistake in real time.

"I give you one day," she sustained. "The rules are simple. No flirting, no weird slogans, and no using the flour to write romantic messages on the countertop."

Yeji raised her hand. "I solemnly swear."

—

Ten minutes in, Yeji was sweating profusely.

Jisu had her chopping fruits in the back kitchen, where it was about 30 degrees hotter than the café. From here, she sees the cute tables, adorned with a trendy light blue napkins and the other furniture slight gilded and retro to give the shop a rustic look.

She missed the smell of hot coffee and the appetizing foods displayed. Where she was standing, it smelled of nothing but sugar and burnt expectations.

"Ever used a paring knife?" Jisu asked, glancing over.

"Not on produce."

Yeji looked up from what could generously be described as 'aggressively mangled apples.'

Jisu sighed, took the knife, and showed her apprentice how to slice—slow and clean like it was choreography. Yeji watched the way her hands moved, the confidence in her fingers, and briefly considered proposing on the spot.

"You're staring," Jisu noted.

"I'm learning."

"You're sweating on my cutting board."

Yeji stepped back. "You are, objectively, very cool under pressure."

"I bake bread, Yeji, not defuse bombs."

"If you really think about it, it’s kinda the same thing. High risk, high heat, and all."

Jisu chuckled briefly, before quickly handing Yeji back the knife. "Less flirting, more slicing. Come on, you don’t need a degree for that."

—

An hour later, Yeji had burned one tray of cookies, dropped a mixing bowl, and accidentally locked herself in the walk-in fridge for seven minutes. Jisu’s pretty sure Yeji also almost set the kitchen on fire with a chocolate bar but she hadn’t looked long enough to confirm. Sometimes, obliviousness was the better choice.

All in all, this new apprentice was a walking safety hazard to the kitchen appliances, a serious psychological threat to the customers, and a severe pain in the ass to Jisu—all at once.

But for some unknown reasons, the cute baker still hadn't thrown her out.

"Thanks," Yeji said, wiping her hands on her apron as the shift ended. "For letting me in your kitchen. I learned a lot of things."

Jisu looked at her, eyes unreadable. "You didn't completely ruin the place. I’ll take that as something."

Yeji smiled. "So... tomorrow?"

Jisu scoffed. "Let me check what the dough has to say about that."

Yeji ran to the balls of bread dough they had left under a cloth to rise overnight. She approached her ear, waiting for the dough’s approval, "Oh, they said they’ve never been knead so good before and they can’t wait for my return tomorrow!"

Jisu threw the cloth that hung over her shoulder at Yeji’s face. Her eyes remain unreadable despite her slight amusement. "Don’t be raunchy or you’re fired!"

"You heard that, guys?" Yeji slapped one ball of dough. "I’m employed!"

"Don’t you have like… an actual job?"

Yeji showed off her right bicep, flexing it hard for her audience of one. "Luckily for you, this bad boy here already had me win Regionals, so I have lots of free time before I start training for Nationals." She beamed.

Jisu looked at her before busting out in a tight laughter. "Sure, whatever you say. Now, get the hell out of here!"

Chapter Text

By day three of "Operation Win Grace’s," Yeji had stopped pretending she wasn't obsessed with its owner.

Many would argue it wasn’t like she was making much of an effort to hide her crush before anyway. And that’d be very true to some extent, but somehow, she had turned into a brand new beast.

She was now openly, unapologetically simping before everyone’s eyes. Even with a flour-dusted nose and elbows deep in dishwater, she couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot every time Jisu walked past the sink.

The other regulars had started to notice. An old man with a crossword habit had even started betting on how many rejections Yeji could rack up in a week. The number currently hovered at eight. A clear understatement considering Yeji’s combative nature.

What started as a mere mission to win Jisu’s heart became heavier. She had grown a sense of responsibility over this cute little shop. That, the regulars also noticed.

Every day, Yeji would show up on time, and there would even be cases, such as today, where she’d arrive early with two iced coffees in hand.

"Before you say no," she started, holding the extra cup out, "I didn't make it, I bought it. So unless you're morally opposed to caffeine, there are little to no chances that you’d end up with food poisoning."

Jisu looked down at Yeji’s hand, biting down a grin. "Yeji, do you bring pizza to a pizzeria?"

"Well—"

The baker interrupted Yeji’s predictable silly ramble. "Don’t bring no more coffee or croissants. Or pizza for that matter."

Yeji raised her eyebrows in mock amazement. "Oh, you’re right! I can’t be helping the competition now that I’m employed here."

Jisu scoffed before taking the coffee cup without breaking eye contact. "You're lucky I'm tired."

"I'm lucky you exist," Yeji muttered.

"What?"

"What?" she repeated, acting dumbfounded.

"I heard you, by the way," Jisu revealed.

"I know." The silly infatuated smile never left Yeji’s face.

—

The morning rush today was brutal. Nothing out of the ordinary for a pleasant Sunday, but it felt definitely odd for Yeji to find herself on the other side of the counter on such a busy day.

There were lines out the door, one of the credit card readers had crashed, and a tray of honey scones was tragically dropped by a toddler with slippery fingers and zero remorse. Of course, by toddler, we refer to no other than the great apprentice Yeji herself.

Meanwhile, Jisu worked like a machine. She moved between the espresso machine and the pastry case like she had a personal vendetta against inefficiency. Well, in all honesty, she probably did.

Yeji watched her from the side, hands dusted in powdered sugar as she wondered how someone could be so intimidating while surrounded by fruit cake.

"Grab me the milk from the back?" Jisu ordered, mid-foam.

Yeji nodded and sprinted to the walk-in fridge like it was a heroic quest. She returned two minutes later—flaunting the great achievement of not locking herself in—but with the wrong kind of milk in hand. She had grabbed oat instead of whole, and that earned her a look that could curdle cream. 

"Sorry," she said once she brought the right kind. "I panicked. The labels were... kinda emotionally unclear."

Jisu snatched the carton and poured without comment.

"I'll earn that look back," Yeji added after Jisu served the customer. "I can’t lose you now that you were finally warming up to me!"

The baker, who focused on her next order of muffins, snickered. "I wasn’t warming up to you. At all."

"But I was going to be employee of the month!"

"Try being employee of the day, and don’t burn everything you touch."

Yeji, yet again defeated, still managed to find the strength to not take Jisu’s words to heart. She knew she’s made great progress, and despite her saying otherwise, the cute bakery owner was in fact warming up to her.

She had stopped sighing and whining about Yeji’s inefficiency and clumsiness. And that, was a major step forward considering the disasters the great Grace’s apprentice pulled.

With lots of resolve, Yeji stated again, "I’ll earn it back."

"You never had it."

"Then should I steal it?"

"Something tells me that wasn’t an actual question."

Yeji cooed, jumping eagerly. "Oh, you already know me so well! See, we’re, like, totally compatible!"

Jisu looked at Yeji’s childish behavior, shaking her head and sighing, until a customer that had been waiting coughed to get their attention.

Jisu snapped out of Yeji’s banter, gesturing for her to stay back in the kitchen to prevent more distractions. With her trademark honey voice, she welcomed, "My apologies for the wait, sir. Welcome to Grace’s, what can I get you today?"

—

However you’d define the concept of a model student, you can forget all about it now. You could take a dictionary, find the word, scrap its definition, and glue a picture of Yeji next to it.

Today, Yeji was on her A-game. The dishes were done in less than thirty minutes, the ingredients were organized by color, and nothing—or nobody—was burned.

After fifteen minutes spent sweeping the floors and cracking jokes with a couple of customers, she finally had nothing left to do.

Jisu was at the back, bent over a custom cake order—apparently Hyewoo’s 14th birthday—carefully piping buttercream roses along the edge. She was in a different headspace so Yeji knew better than to go serenade her now.

But in the meantime, Yeji had nobody left to serve.

For the first time since the start of her little volunteering experience, Yeji was idle. And for some reason, watching Jisu work in silence made her want to snuggle her.

As she was about to sit back and ogle Jisu in peace like a lovesick puppy, her mind wandered to the reason she was here in the first place: she had a plan to impress her crush. Which meant she couldn’t enjoy the luxury of sitting on her ass.

She had to do something.

Her eyes landed on the coffee machine in the corner, but she dismissed it immediately. That’s too easy and a hundred percent not impressive. Instead, she reached for the small, dented moka pot sitting on the stove. 

The brilliant idea struck: she’d sweep Jisu off her feet with a delicious cup of homemade coffee to prove her she had what it took to end the competition.

At first, that sounded more like a dream.

It started with too much water in the bottom chamber, then too little. The coffee grounds spilled over her hands, the handle burned her palm when she forgot it would heat up, and for a moment she was convinced the whole thing might explode.

Still, she kept at it. Muttering under her breath, twisting the lid too tight, then too loose, adjusting the flame until it hissed the way she’d seen in videos.

By some heavenly miracle, fourty minutes later the rich, bitter smell of brewing coffee began to fill the shop.

When it was done, she poured it carefully into a small white cup. She smiled proudly as the surface glistened dark and smooth. She set it beside Jisu, wiping her damp palms on her apron, almost shy.

Jisu glanced at it, then at her, before setting the piping bag aside. "You made this? With the machine?"

Yeji straightened up. "From scratch!"

Jisu took a sip, perplexed.

But when the liquid gold hit her tastebuds, her eyes widened just slightly. A faint blush crept into her cheeks. "Could you… maybe make me another, please?"

Yeji grinned, the kind that reached her eyes. “Your wish is my command, boss.”

—

The afternoon lull hit just past three. The chairs were half-full and the atmosphere was comfortable. The shop’s playlist shuffled soft indie tunes and Jisu had finally taken a moment to herself, seated by the front window with a coffee she didn't have to make herself.

Yeji slid into the chair across from her without asking.

Jisu raised an eyebrow. "That’s a bold move."

"I've been bold for like, ten days straight," Yeji whined.

"And unsuccessful."

"At least you get good coffee out of this, right?," Yeji joked.

Jisu took a sip of her drink, observing Yeji who was observing her. "You know, I don’t understand why you spend so much money at cafés. You make very good coffee."

Yeji’s cheeks tinted at the compliment. She looked away for a second and tried to suppress a giggle—which failed. In spite of the embarrassing fangirling, she quickly recovered. "I guess I was a barista in another life."

Suddenly, Jisu asked, "Do you even like sweets?"

Yeji blinked, taken aback. "What kind of question is that?"

"You buy raspberry danishes like clockwork but I’ve never seen you eat one."

"I do eat them," Yeji notes, lying through her teeth. "I eat them all the time. They're delicious. Iconic, even. They’re, like, pastry royalty."

"Liar," Jisu countered, smirking.

Yeji leaned back. "Okay, you got me. They're delicious but I can’t eat too many of them. How would I keep this sexy figure if I did?"

Jisu scoffed. "You wouldn’t even be able to hold an arch. I mean, you’re already struggling quite a bit."

"Hm, I very much would still be an Olympic champion even if I ate all the danishes in the world every day, thank you very much! I just decided not to."

"Sure…"

"I think I'm more of a savory girl, anyway. But I’ll suffer for love."

"Big words for someone who asked me out with a cookie shaped like a bow and arrow. That was real suffering."

"What? You gotta appreciate it. That was art!"

"It was aggressive."

"You ate the entire cookie anyway so I guess the only thing that was aggressed was your stomach." Yeji smiled, quiet for a moment before  inquiring, "You’re ever gonna say yes?"

Jisu didn't answer immediately. She looked out the window, light hitting her just right as she sipped on her coffee. The glow of the late afternoon caught in her hair, her lashes, the tip of her nose, the bridge of her lips—

"You know, you truly look magnificent."

The compliment brought Jisu out of her daze. "I don't date co-workers," she simply explained.

Yeji grinned. "Then fire me!"

Jisu laughed—an actual, audible laughter—and Yeji felt something in her chest pull tight.

"You're impossible," Jisu muttered between chuckles.

"You keep claiming that like it's not my best quality."

Jisu swirled the black liquid in her cup, taking a last gulp before standing up. "A quality? Maybe yes. But your best quality? I doubt it."

Chapter Text

Jisu was not in a good mood.

The delivery truck was late, her supplier had swapped her preferred salted butter for something that tasted like the bottom of shoe soles, and Gyu had quit mid-shift to "focus on photography." He wasn't even formally employed but it's the kind of unpleasant surprise you don't want to have during a busy shift.

The café was understaffed, the espresso machine was moody, and to top it off—Yeji had been suspiciously quiet all morning.

Which, somehow, was worse than usual.

There were no flirtatious greetings or handmade flyers. No dumb puns about Jisu's buns. Just Yeji, silently folding pastry boxes in the corner like she'd taken a vow of emotional chastity. She could've been mistaken for a monk stranded in the middle of a mountain on a spiritual retreat with how silent she was.

Jisu hated how much she noticed.

"You're not sick, are you?" she asked finally.

Yeji blinked. "Huh?"

"You're eerily quiet."

"Just trying not to get in your way, boss," Yeji said, folding another box with mechanical precision.

Jisu frowned. "That's new, Cupid."

"I figured if the charming approach didn't work, I'd try being useful." Yeji shrugged. "Since you enjoyed my coffee so much, I'll just woo you with that."

Jisu paused, torn between relief and confusion. It's something that's twisted in her chest a little. She'd start panicking if she had noticed it probably meant she enjoyed having Yeji's chaotic energy in the way.

"Well," she stammered, turning back to the counter and eyeing a customer entering the shop. "You're better at this than you were at slicing apples."

"Thanks, I practiced at home."

That earned a small smile from the baker.

The customer approached the counter with a smile. "Hello!"

Jisu smiled back. "Good morning, miss. What can I get you today?" 

The young woman took at step back to check the pastries displayed, before finally settling, "I'll have a strawberry danish, please."

Yeji bit back a comment about how she's glad she hadn't ordered her raspberry ones.

The woman quickly added, "Ah, and can I have an espresso with that also? Thank you that'd be it."

"Do you want it to go?"

The woman looked around and beamed. She was visibly mesmerized by the place. "I think I'll have a sit."

"Please do! We'll bring your order right to you," the owner invited. She smiled warmly, her chef's hat slightly tilted sideways. 

As she grabbed a box Yeji had prepared, an idea came to her. She put the danishes aside and turned around to face her apprentice, who was still very much concentrated on her decisive task of folding cardboard.

"Hey," she called out, "Do you want to try?"

Yeji looked up, perplexed. "Try going on a date?"

Jisu exhaled at Yeji's old ways seeping back in. "No, dummy. Try making coffee for the customer?"

Yeji could've jumped and hit the ceiling right then and there. "What?!" she exclaimed, "But I'd kill her!"

Jisu scoffed, dragging Yeji to the kitchen with a gentle hand. It would be a lie to say the archer didn't feel the skin of her forearm burn at the touch. That was actually a big problem because she'd need that arm to win more arching competitions and impress Jisu.

"Listen," Jisu started, "I think you'll do great. Just do it as if you'd do it for me. The same one you did before, it was perfect!" She encouraged, oblivious to how her soft hand hadn't left, which was greatly destabilizing to the archer.

Yeji considered arguing, but when she saw the little twinkles of hope in Jisu's eyes, she knew she had to take the gamble. She sighed, "Okay..."

Jisu jumped in the air excitedly. Yeji's eyebrows raised at such levels of energy from the cute baker. She wouldn't be one to complain, though.

Quickly, she got to work. It was the same disastrous routine she had tried before, except today, she was graced with a bit more expertise and luck. 

Instead of the usual endless minutes it takes her to prepare the liquid gold, it took her ten minutes less this time.

When she was done, she took the cup to Jisu for inspection, but the baker simply put it on the tray, blindly trusting Yeji's skills.

Most times—and unless it involved bows and arrows—that proved to be a colossal mistake. However, Jisu had tried Yeji's coffee before and she knew what she was capable of. To her, that was enough to give this crazy idea a shot.

Yeji took the tray to the customer and politely smiled with a nod. "There you go. Please, enjoy."

One of the regulars almost fell off his chair.

The old man looked at Jisu as if to ask if he was dreaming. Jisu looked back at him with twice the confusion. 

He mouthed, "Since when has she gotten manners?"

Jisu chuckled, but simply shrugged her shoulders. Frankly, she didn't know either and the scene was just as foreign to her. She bit back a smile off her lips.

Yeji headed back in the kitchen, probably to cause more disasters, but for once, Jisu actually felt light on her feet. She danced around and whistled as she was arranging the remaining pastries on display. It's wasn't often she could be this carefree. 

Half an hour later, the woman who was served Yeji's coffee stood up. Jisu observed, tried to gauge her reaction from where she was standing, yet everything pointed to the lady being satisfied and happy. She didn't seem poisoned or sick, which was already a great step.

As she walked towards the door, she greeted the backer. "Everything was delicious! Thanks!"

"Thank you!" Jisu couldn't help but ask the question that was tormenting her. "How was the coffee?"

"The best! I'll definitely be back with my friends!" The woman moved enthusiastically.

The backer's cheeks inflated, like they usually do when she's touched but tries to hide it. She slipped an adorable, "Thank you, I'll pass your compliments to the chef."

After escorting the customer to the exit, Jisu walked back to the counter with pride. She stole a quick glance at Yeji in the kitchen who was elbow deep in bleach. The bakery owner's orbs shined and glistened, but her eyes deviated back to the cash register before she could be caught.

One thing's for sure: she couldn't be more grateful for her silly apprentice.

—

Later, after the rush died down, Yeji sat on the back step with her legs stretched out and her head tipped toward the sky. Jisu found her there while taking out a tray of compost. The late afternoon sun painted shadows on the alley wall.

Yeji didn't turn around when she heard the back door open followed by the sound of steps. She simply warned, "If this is where you tell me I forgot to scrub the counter, go easy. I'm emotionally fragile right now."

Jisu hesitated. "You did okay today."

Yeji glanced up, surprised. "Really?"

"Didn't drop anything. Didn't flirt in front of the customers. Only made one pun and it was under your breath." Jisu chuckled. "And the coffee was great."

"It was a really good pun, though."

"I didn't say it wasn't."

They stood in silence for a moment. The alley was quiet, only embraced by the thin veil of conversations from pedestrians walking the street nearby.

Yeji exhaled. "I meant what I said, by the way. About just wanting to help. You looked stressed these days."

Jisu folded her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "I'm always stressed. It's part of the brand."

"Hmm, then allow me to tell you," Yeji whispered with a wince, "It's a terrible brand. You should rebrand to 'well-rested and emotionally available.' Just saying."

Jisu smiled without looking at her. "You ever stop talking?"

"No. But I do pause occasionally for dramatic effect."

That made Jisu laugh again. It wasn't over the top, but it was real. Yeji could tell by the way Jisu's eyes closed and her cheeks rosied again like cute round mochi moons.

Jisu set the compost bin down. She insisted, "I'm still not going on a date with you."

Yeji tilted her head. "Yet."

Jisu gave her a long look. "You're persistent."

"I'm an archer." Yeji grinned. "We don't stop until we hit the target."

Jisu turned to go back inside, but paused in the doorway.

"I'm closing early tomorrow," she announced over her shoulder. "I'm taking the afternoon off."

Yeji sat up straighter. "Oh?" She knew she'd dread an afternoon without seeing her favorite person.

Jisu didn't look back. "There's a street market by the river. I heard they're selling terrible croquettes."

Yeji's eyes widened, puzzled. "You like terrible croquettes?"

"No," Jisu countered. "But I figured someone should suffer through them with me."

The door shut behind her before another word could be uttered.

Yeji stared at the closed door, then at the sky, then at the door again.

"Holy shit," she whispered to herself, smirking. "Did she just ask me out on a date?"

Chapter Text

Yeji spent the entire morning in a state of pre-date panic. Even though, technically, it wasn't a date. Jisu hadn't said it was. She'd said things like "closing early" and "suffer with me," which weren't exactly romantic declarations. But still. They were going somewhere together! That had to count, right?

Chaeryeong watched Yeji tear through her closet like she was packing for exile.

"Just wear what you usually wear, dork." She sighed.

"I can't wear a hoodie or my training tracksuit," Yeji said, holding up a crewneck before the mirror. "Things changed, friend. She's used to seeing me in aprons and flour now. This is my shot at real-world charisma."

Ryujin bit on her buttered toast. "She's already seen the worst of you."

"Exactly! That's why I need to swing so hard in the other direction."

"Don't overdo it," Chaeryeong warned. "You show up in a suit and she's going to think you're here to audit her taxes."

—

The street market ran along the Han River promenade. It manifested as a mess of stalls, string lights and smells Yeji couldn't begin to categorize. The air was warm with late spring bloom and the sky was devoid of any clouds. It was simply bright and clear, with the sun proudly clinging over everybody's heads—just like how the ball of flames in Yeji clung to her stomach walls as she waited for her belle. 

Families were picnicking on the grass, some couples were sharing snacks while others fired bubble guns indiscriminately.

Jisu arrived precisely on time. She wore little to no makeup, and was clothed in a simple oversized denim jacket with her hair naturally cascading past her shoulders. Yeji felt her heart make a dangerous thump-thump sound. While she loved the usual killer ponytail, the sight before her made her question her entire existence.

"Are you here to audit my taxes?" Jisu asked, snickering as she scanned the archer from head to toe.

Yeji looked down on her outfit. She wore a black suit with stripes, adorned by a black tie loosely hanging over her white shirt. Her makeup was done over layers of skincare residues, and she hadn't neglected any detail from her jewelry down to her polished nails.

"Oh, this?" she asked, pointing to herself. "That's just my casual attire for casual hangouts."

"Don't push it, Cupid."

They started down the rows of stalls, walking close but not touching. Yeji kept her hands jammed in her pockets, resisting the urge to offer her arm like some old-timey drama lead.

They stopped at the vendor selling the infamous croquettes. A big sign read: 'HOT! FRESH! UNMISTAKABLE!'

"See?" Jisu spoke, deadpan as she pointed to the sign. "Already terrible."

"I mean, they did say it was unmistakable." Yeji quickly walked to the owner of the terrible croquette stall and handed over cash to order two.

Jisu side-eyed her but didn't comment nor complain about the gesture. She took a bite and winced. "Yep. Disgusting."

"It's like sadness wrapped in breadcrumbs," Yeji noted as she chewed. "I kinda love it."

The croquette criminal sent them ugly stares for the harsh criticism, and Yeji briefly took Jisu's arm to flee the scene.

They ran until they arrived at the edge of the walkway, where they then stood to watch the river glimmer in the sunlight. 

Despite how much Jisu was struggling with her croquette, she still had a profound respect for food. There was no way she was going to throw the deep-fried ball of toxins away.

However, three nibbles and two gags in, she felt like the next bite was going to turn her stomach upside down. There was so much venom she could handle.

Yeji caught onto her demeanor and gripped Jisu's wrist up to let her croquette land in her mouth. She took the mouthful, nodding and humming like it was the most delicious thing she had ever eaten.

Jisu chuckled, but slipped a sly, "Thank you," while looking down shyly.

Yeji wanted to make a comment about how she just made Jisu so shy, but the words left her—too engrossed in her infatuation. She started at Jisu, stars basically shooting out her eyes, a proud smirk glued to the edge of her lips. The baker coughed slightly, which brought the archer back. Her face remained as radiant, even when she painfully dragged her sight back to the horizon.

"So," Yeji said, licking grease off her thumb. "Why me?"

Jisu raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I mean, you could've asked anyone to come today. Why me?"

"I didn't ask you," Jisu retorted. "I informed you that I'd be here."

"Well, true, but still... You invited me to your soft launch into leisure. That's big! I mean, it is to me."

Jisu didn't answer right away. She looked out at the water, the breeze catching strands of her hair.

"You're... annoying," she voiced. "But you show up."

Yeji blinked with bewilderment. She didn't have to bother with hiding her excitement. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"I didn't mean for it to be."

Yeji smiled. "Too late! Finders keepers, losers weepers, no take backsies!"

Jisu frowned, confused by whatever Yeji tried to say. But if there was one thing she learned about Yeji, it was that there's no point in trying to decipher whatever ridiculous blabber she's reciting when she's excited.

So Jisu only nodded, slightly chuckling as she pretended not to notice Yeji taking a step closer to her. Maybe she was glad the archer did so, actually. However, only Jisu could levitate any doubts regarding that.

—

They wandered for another hour and a half, sampling everything from sour tteokbokki to overpriced iced tea served in a lightbulb. Jisu bought a tiny ceramic bear for the bakery's cookie jar. Not that she ever displayed her cookies in a jar, but the bear looked far too cheerful to leave behind.

By the time the sky turned lavender, they found themselves sitting side by side on a bench overlooking the main street.

Yeji stretched her legs until her knee nudged Jisu's. "Be honest. I'm growing on you."

Jisu pursed her lips as if she were weighing a serious verdict. She came to the conclusion: "You're like mold."

Yeji bumped her knee again, delighted. "That's not a no." She paused, then brightened. "Wait, mold grows and spreads fast, doesn't it? So it's love at first sight!"

This time, Jisu didn't smile. Instead, she looked over, something serious flickering in her expression. She lightly pushed Yeji's shoulder to command her attention.

"Look, Yeji. I don't date casually," she confessed.

Yeji nodded without hesitation, still joyful and unfaltering. "Neither do I."

Jisu studied her face, brows furrowed. "I don't want to be a game. I'm not some target you're trying to hit with a broken arch."

"You're not," Yeji shot back quickly. Her arm slipped over the back of the bench, so close it would have taken only a tilt forward to cage Jisu against her. But she held back. Restraint came easier than risking Jisu's trust. She reassured, "I've been serious this whole time. Even when I was being stupid. Especially then, honestly."

Only when Jisu realized how near they'd grown did she lean back against the bench, though she caught Yeji's hand and guided it over her shoulders. She sighed, brushing a few breadcrumbs off her jacket.

And just like that, Yeji was the one unraveling. Her mouth hung open, stunned, especially when Jisu turned to face her fully.

Yeji's gaze roamed helplessly. It was the cheeks, the lips, the curve of her jaw. They were details she'd never been close enough to memorize before. Her pulse kicked up so fast she nearly leaned in to steal a kiss right there without second thought.

Then Jisu spoke, breaking the spell. "Okay."

Yeji tilted her head, a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes. "Okay what?"

"Okay, I'll think about it."

The grin that spread across Yeji's face looked like victory itself.  She's grinned like someone who had just hit the bullseye blindfolded. She would've jumped and twirled Jisu in the air from how overjoyed she was if it wasn't for how much she didn't want to test her luck too much right now.

She exclaimed, "That's a yes in bakery terms, isn't it!"

"No," Jisu corrected. "It's a maybe in fluent sarcasm."

Yeji couldn't contain her excitement, too giddy to care. "I'll take that."

They stayed there, making small talk until the streetlamps flickered on. It was sign too much time had passed, so eventually they rose to walk back to the main path.

"So..." Yeji ventured, stumbling over words, "What should I do for our next date? Should I do the suit thing again?"

"Eh, it's alright. It helps that you smell good."

And when their hands brushed this time, Jisu didn't move hers away. Her expression stayed perfectly composed despite how she could tell that underneath it, she was starting to feel a bubbling enthusiasm she couldn't quite suppress. And besides, Yeji looked dangerously good in suits.