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"Can you repeat that again? Maybe even slower this time?”
"Third time isn't always the charm, unnie."
"It's so loud I didn't quite catch it..."
"Siyeon unnie, if you really can't-"
"No, I got this. Totally got this. Super got this. This is the simplest thing in the world."
“You have spent the past ten minutes on this simplest thing in the world.”
Dong has expected an eyeroll or a mild tantrum, but she seems to forget who she is dealing with. Not Minji who is more spoiling than a first-time kitten parent and has infinite patience for the shenanigan of the kids, nor Gahyun who always has a fit ready whenever things don't go her way and the doting of all her unnies backing her up. Siyeon, in that brilliant outfit of a renowned official (yes, it was rented and there are more than enough people on the street dressed up similarly, but anyone with eyes can see who the most dashing one is, not in the way anyone wears it) but staring at her with the saddest wet puppy eyes, is more like a hybrid - in a positive sense, of course. At certain times, her gentle, dependable aura stems from a combination of accumulated calmness being looked upon as one of the older among a group and the reserved, or even shy personality of the Korean girl, especially when you are yet to be close enough for her to show you her vulnerable belly; all the while since she has decided firmly, possibly with every cell inside her, to go down the road of handsomeness since a couple years back, all but writing down "don't mess with me" letter to letter right next to that jawline personally (or godly?) carved by the deity of beauty. In actuality, however, more often than not, for people fortunate enough to witness her softer side, the older girl with one foot already on the Land of Aegyo and gazing up at her purposefully with doubled soulfulness can trade maturity and reason for total childishness just like that, trying out any and all possible measures to reach her goal before her brain, oftentimes already a beat slower on a better day, can feel the embarrassment catching up.
Just like what is happening now.
"Dongie - " Her "unnie" who will be entering the 30s of her life less than six months later whines like an aggrieved puppy who has freshly lost her tug of war with her owner, two arms clad in ebony sleeves already sneaking up under the cover of darkness in the remote alley off the main road where they are, catching the shivering Chinese girl off guard. There are many other Chinese girls merely twenty steps away from them, as well as Chinese boys, more Chinese people of all ages and genders, and some who would be referred to as "foreigners" here, including Siyeon who is still swaying her arm back and forth, on one of the most bustling blocks in one of the most bustling cities, soaking in the fantasy of traveling back in time in the country she was born and had grown up in in this cool spring night, or at least trying to.
The reasons it cannot be fully immersive are abundant, one of which being all those stores littering the sides of the pedestrian street selling not-so-historical-looking merchandise, and another being her being quite certain that it would be next to impossible to find a woman so (without talking, being silly, or sudden burst of dramatic flare... etc. Only finding the nearest vertical surface and leaning against it) utterly and insanely handsome back in the era when gender roles had been stubbornly enforced and repressed.
She has certainly dressed up for the occasion as well, but the look isn’t as impressive in comparison. Not that she is being modest - Han Dong? Humble? Or not downright slaying at any given moment? Purely inconceivable. Not words that can be arranged into a single sentence. The key her is "in comparison", as in the outstanding vibe and the bold choice of Siyeon makes her look like a silhouette only slightly more complicated among the crowd, and of all the photos she has taken so far, the lighting in each of them basically maximized all the flaws of the supposedly springtime rosy color of her costume after the sky grows dark, from the almost poisonous dark skin to the blurred details of the threads. Yet unlike the flaunting narcissism she would play up for the camera or for fun, Dong does not place much of her attention on snatching the most satisfactory photos, having even decided against posting about this on social media altogether, as she had made it sufficiently clear to the accompanying staff unnie before they had hit the street.
This trip to Shanghai has long been Siyeon's dream. Well, "dream" seems a bit exaggerating for the woman clad in the black robe now invading her personal space to flash those gorgeous eyes highlighted by the charming eyeliner, almost as if she lacks any meaningful aspiration (not necessarily a bad thing for someone who would celebrate each of her hard earned championship in Cookie Run religiously). Although Dong is startled into taking a step back then in turn slamming herself against the brick wall behind her, a hand holding onto the paper fan that actually belongs to her attacker already raised like the paw of a cat wary of forced human affection, prime and ready to maul the older girl if needed, she isn't actually cruel enough to prevent a flawless screening of this epic tale by screwing up any detail.
So far only the beginning of the plot is certain, namely their protagonist, with perfectly authentic native cadence, would conduct research on the local custom and practices and whatnot. Before they hit a snag.
"I have to learn how to buy tanghulu in Chinese... please."
Siyeon begins to sway her arms again, hard enough that the latter meows her complain loudly, but with the lower half of her body pinned there isn't much room for her to bargain. While Dong, dodging left and right within liminal space, isn't exactly weak by any means, it in fact only holds her back from applying force in any direction, afraid that she might somehow provide the older girl on dopamine high a chance to hurt either of them.
Usually Bora is the one who fuels their intermittently playful vocalist (and each other) with improvisation among all of them; not that Dong is particularly lacking in the field. After all, there have already been several historical shows starring two drama geniuses for the past few months, filling the limited length of the plays with blades and blood, heartbreak and betrayal.
It's just that...
It doesn't sound like there should be a turnaround, but she loves Siyeon, having been loving this handsome and only slightly dumb dumb of a woman like a friend, a sister, and a lover. There really isn't anything worth debating over, and it is what it is. It's just that... for the younger girl finally free of the iron grip by wiggling her way out, love only makes her cower even more, not knowing all the right words whenever the occasion calls forth and having to shove all of the pieces of words actually out of her mouth into the blender of translation, praying for even half of it retained when they come out of the other end of the language processor.
Once upon a time, back when Dong had been fumbling with Korean no more fluently than a newborn fawn over its limbs, she could only force her still comprehending brain into laughing along (awkwardly) whenever other girls were doubled up in laughters from all the brilliant jokes her partner in history had told and antics she had pulled. This seemed to frustrate the tale teller to no end, her unshakable status in the comedy industry challenged by something not even about her skills. Not long after, Siyeon started to ask the Chinese girl about how to describe just about everything in her mother tongue anytime she had had the chance, or sometimes throw out random bursts of short sentences, clumsily but firmly, and filled her chest with the warmth of being seen, understood, and loved.
Other members have picked up Mandarin here and there over the years, and out of all of them, though not as diligent as Yoohyeon who had embarked on the journey of learning even before she had known anyone who actually speaks Chinese, nor gifted as Yubin whose gentle and raspy concerns would roll out all too easily, Dong only finds the older girl who would frown so hard it has to hurt and stutters to recall pronunciations foreign for her to express her love in her own unique, sensitive, and sincere way absolutely adorable.
Siyeon has always given her 100%, as she always does for anything or anyone important to her. She should repay with equal enthusiasm and devotion. There are many love languages, and she can master other kinds if it comes down to it.
"Pretty please, Dongie - Dong unnie - "
Oh well, she should have seen it coming sooner or later; it has never been a secret that she enjoys being addressed as unnie (by unnies actually older than her), and even the dancer, the one who values hierarchy obstinately to a fault out of all of them, would relent practically without a fight, stroking her ego already boosting amidst an ocean of love she swims in on a daily basis. Siyeon gives in relatively faster, although still not faster than their oldest and real unnie who is a tad too keen on satisfying any minor pleasure every one of them may have, and would only deal it like a straight flush when push comes to shove, throwing in shining eyes of high expectation. Still a canine, her stares are usually more determined, more of a command than a plea. Under all the annoyed pretense, the visible growth in confidence over the years in fact cannot make the woman in pink any prouder.
"Siyeon-ssi."
So she reaches out, meaning to smack on the head child-scolding style like the little roleplay they are in, only to switch into re-buttoning the collar pulled open in the play-fight, her fingertips maybe lingering over the exposed throat a second too long.
"One last time, you hear me? Put some work in it."
This makes the older girl grin widely with her eyes squinted as she jumps up and down with excitement, dragging her along to shake wildly like a small animal celebrating its victory after it has successfully steal a chunk of meat from an apex predator.
"Yah! Let go of me, you brat!"
Now that may be out of line, but the brat only complies obediently as she laughs, and the "yes unnie" contains not a trace of a pout.
Good lord, how can whoever watching a happy Siyeon feel almost an equal amount of happiness so easily just like that?
"Shopkeeper..."
"Shop...keeper..."
"How much is this..."
"How... mach... is... zis..."
"Tanghu-"
"Oh, I know this one! Tanghulu!"
A real slap on the head follows the impeccable pronounciation. Honestly? Deserved. "And that is all you know! Pay attention!"
"Sorry unnie... I am, I really am..."
Dong can have troubles expressing herself sometimes, and not only because of the language barrier, but that is alright. Whoever loves her will read into everything she has said as well as things she hasn't, and her love has other way to make itself known.