Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Purple bursts across the common room in crinkled streamers and twinkling fairy lights, broken only by a smattering of pink glitter-filled balloons. A heavy bassline pulses through the speakers and ripples throughout, pulling at the throng of party-goers with gravitational force. And at the center of their slow orbit is her, the guest of honor—the sweep of her hair falling in soft waves over an elegant blue dress, eyes sparkling radiant and lively as she exchanges a few words with each passing person.

Huddled in the far corner, wishing she was better at this whole party thing, Yoona shifts from one foot to the other. She stares past the swirling activity—focused on the woman at the heart of everything, enraptured and envious in equal measure. To think, just last year, this ethereal goddess was the research assistant for Yoona’s Social Psychology class. It had taken only a five minute chat for Yoona to fall head over heels for her sweet demeanor and big, genuine smile. Though they became fast friends, it’s clear in this moment that she has no shortage of those, and Yoona is just one in a neverending sea of them.

Grumbling, Yoona wonders why she bothered to come at all. There’s so many people, and they’re super noisy and, worse, sweaty. Every now and then, complete strangers come up and try to strike up some small talk, which she has neither skill nor interest in.

As the night drags on, the fabric of her blouse becomes stiff and confining, like it’s suffocating her bit by bit. The thought of having to strong-arm her way through the crowd brings a crippling wave of shyness. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths to quell the shaking emotion.

And then, two hands settle on her shoulders, gentle and reassuring, like she’s some easily startled deer.

But Yoona does indeed startle, eyes flying open as she stammers out, “S-Sana!”

“Yoona! I’m so glad you came,” Sana says with a tinkling laugh that lights up the room. Up close, her simple, almost effortless beauty shines even brighter. And wow, this excruciating evening has been worth it after all.

Though Yoona makes a valiant effort to maintain eye contact with Sana, it’s impossible, like staring into a sun supercharged by the sheer power of cuteness and everything good in this world.

“Thank you so much for inviting me,” Yoona says, squeakier than she intends or wants. “I was happy to hear you’re getting to go home for the semester.” 

Hopefully, it sounds natural and not like she spent the past five minutes rehearsing it in her head.

Sana scrunches her nose and presses close, the warmth of her body so comforting and dangerous at the same time. Yoona tries her best not to black out.

“You’ll miss me though, right?” Sana asks, half coaxing, half teasing.

Yoona’s insides melt into a gooey mess at that. There’s a sizable part of her that wants to squeal and bury her face in Sana’s shoulder, but this is a situation that probably warrants a real response. With great effort, Yoona tries to pull herself together, at least enough to speak with an iota of dignity.

“Of course, I’ll miss you a lot. I’ll probably think about you every day,” Yoona barely manages to force out.

Oof, that came out… is there a word worse than desperate? She may not even have that iota.

But somehow, this satisfies Sana, who bops her head happily. “You can text me anytime you miss me, like if you want to gossip or ask for advice, that kind of stuff!”

“Are you sure?” Yoona asks, taken aback.

“One hundred percent.” Sana beams. 

Yoona’s heart kick-starts, gearing up for the journey to cloud nine. This is way more than she ever expected from this exchange.

Then, Sana continues, sunny and earnest, “You’re like the little sister I always wanted.”

Yoona’s breath escapes in one sharp exhale as she crash-lands into harsh reality.

“—and then I said I had an early morning and had to go home,” Yoona says, regaling two of her suitemates with the night’s events.

Lily—bright, boisterous, and funny in the most unexpected ways—covers her mouth with both hands as if she’d had to personally witness it all. Quiet, though not quiet enough, she goes, “Oh no.”

Kyujin—cute yet pragmatic, hair neatly braided in a singular plait—cautiously says, “Well… it kind of makes sense?”

Ouch.

“Sana’s a lot older than you and probably in a different stage of her life,” Kyujin elaborates, making far too much sense. “It could be a sign that you should move on.”

Yoona sags into the cushions of their suite’s somewhat lumpy couch. All of her friends have heard about her “small” crush on Sana many, many times, and despite being the youngest of her suitemates, Kyujin has always given the most realistic advice. With a forlorn sigh, Yoona thinks this might finally be the moment to really listen to Kyujin and face the facts.

“Nooooo,” Lily cuts in, flapping her hands with a dramatic flair. “You can’t just give up on your feelings! What if it’s true love?”

Yoona perks up ever so slightly.

“Just because Sana sees you as a kid now doesn’t mean she always will,” Lily continues, impassioned and entirely sincere, living up to the title of resident hopeless romantic.

And Lily’s brand of delusion is exactly what Yoona needs right now. Yoona reaches out to pat Lily’s shoulder in gratitude.

Kyujin shrugs, less like she agrees and more like she knows through hard-won experience that objecting won’t get her anywhere.

Sitting up, Yoona asks, “So, how can I change her view then?”

Lily hums and runs a hand through her dark blonde hair, the ends sweeping over her shoulders, as she considers the options. There’s a medium to high risk that she’ll propose something elaborate and over the top like hiring a horse-drawn carriage or some reference to a Taylor Swift music video. But other than that, Yoona is pretty open to suggestions. Beggars can’t be choosers and all.

“Well, you have this semester while she’s away,” Lily says finally. “You could try going on a few dates, get some experience under your belt.”

Okay, but maybe beggars should be able to choose a little? 

Recoiling, Yoona asks, “With who?”

“There’s dating apps,” Kyujin supplies unhelpfully.

“I could make your profile with you,” Lily volunteers.

“That’s…” Repulsive, is what Yoona wants to say, but it’s probably not the most mature response. She tries to give a restrained reply. “I don’t really want to meet new people.”

Lily tries again. “Then, what about a practice date with a friend?”

“Does that count as experience?” Yoona asks with skepticism.

“I mean, it will certainly be more than you have now,” Lily answers, only registering how that sounds after it’s left her mouth. To soften the blow, she tacks on a quick, “Sorry.”

Yoona can’t even muster up the wherewithal to be offended. The mere thought of flirting with any of her friends sends shivers down her spine.

“Here, you could practice with me,” Lily says, sitting up straight like she’s ready for the challenge.

“Yeah, so I’m gonna go now. It just feels like this is about to take a very strange turn,” Kyujin says, getting to her feet. 

Gosh, she's so smart. Yoona wishes she was half as smart as Kyujin in this instance.

“Wait, don’t leave me,” Yoona begs, reaching one hand out towards Kyujin’s mercilessly retreating form.

But it’s no use. Kyujin is swallowed by the darkness of the hallway, and Yoona is all alone with no hope of rescue.

“So, Yoona, do you come here often?” Lily asks, twirling a strand of hair with one finger, in what Yoona has to assume is her idea of seduction.

“I…” Yoona could probably make an excuse and escape to her room as well, but she doesn’t know how to pull that off without hurting Lily’s feelings. “I live here,” she replies lamely instead.

“That’s cool,” Lily says, somehow undeterred. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Whew, Lily is making things so hard.

“Uh, not really?”

“I didn’t used to either.” Lily gives Yoona an expectant look, like she wants a specific response.

Unsure of what that might be, Yoona simply reacts with an, “Ooohh.”

Apparently that wasn’t it, since Lily pushes forward. “What changed, you ask?”

“I didn’t—”

“Meeting you.”

Yoona accidentally makes direct eye contact with Lily, and the absurdity of the situation hits them simultaneously. They break, and Yoona collapses backwards across the arm of the couch.

“Why?” Lily asks, as if she isn’t laughing just as hard as Yoona.

“It’s way too much,” Yoona says, trying to catch her breath. “No one actually says that kind of stuff, do they?”

“They should,” Lily insists.

At that moment, the front door opens and two familiar voices pour in, poking and prodding at one another, and a cold chill washes over Yoona. She recognizes them as Kyujin and Lily’s roommates—dear friends, of course, but also incredibly irritating ones. Yoona vigorously shakes her head, but Lily doesn’t seem to pick up on the cue, looking right past her.

“Oh, what about practicing with them?” Lily asks in the worst suggestion of the night. “Jinsol is a great actor.”

Jinsol—equal parts lanky, impish, and sentimental—snaps to attention upon hearing her name. “Me? What about me?”

“Nothing!” Yoona grabs Lily’s wrist to stop her from saying anything more.

A head pops out from behind Jinsol, short black hair stopping right above her shoulders. Haewon—clever, competent, clown—asks, “What’s going on?”

While Haewon and Jinsol are a lot of fun to hang out with individually, the two of them together is another thing entirely. Last semester, the university radio manager foolishly gave the two of them complete creative control over their own segment, which they aptly named We Aren’t the Only Ones Having Fun, Right? They even made Yoona’s roommate, Jiwoo, cry one time with their pranks. Sure, it was unintentional, and sure, Jiwoo’s forgiven them for it, but Yoona refuses to be their next victim.

“They could be helpful though,” Lily says, which makes her a world-class optimist.

“I don’t see how that’s remotely possible,” Yoona replies miserably.

Discontent with being ignored, Jinsol exchanges a mischievous glance with Haewon that Yoona instinctively doesn’t trust. The feeling is justified when the two saunter behind the couch, flanking Lily’s position, eyeing her like some hapless prey.

“Lily, you know we would love to help, but it’s pretty hard without details,” Haewon says, syrupy sweet.

“Yoona gets embarrassed so easily,” Jinsol adds. “You know how she can be. Like that time she fell backwards in her chair and then hit me for asking if she was okay.”

Glowering, Yoona clears her throat, but Lily is too distracted to notice. And Jinsol and Haewon don’t even deign to acknowledge it.

“Right. She makes it difficult to be a good friend to her sometimes.” Haewon sticks out her lower lip, the perfect picture of pathetic persuasion.

“Can’t you help us be better friends?” Jinsol asks in a wheedling tone.

Yoona watches them with a mix of horror and fascination. Surely even an idiot can see through this?

Lily looks from Haewon to Jinsol back to Haewon, and Yoona can viscerally sense Lily’s will eroding. Before Yoona can interject—

“She needs someone to go on a practice date with her,” rushes out of Lily’s mouth. “In preparation for true love with Sana!”

Oh god, not an idiot but something far worse. A sap.

An awful smirk carves its way across Jinsol’s face as she and Haewon simultaneously round on Yoona. Sinking into the couch, Yoona covers her face as the hyenas descend.

“A fake girlfriend, huh?” Haewon says more than asks.

“Absolutely not.” Yoona shakes her head vehemently. “At the very most, just a person to practice with one time.”

“What are the qualifications?” Haewon abandons her goal of menacing Yoona in favor of trying to push Jinsol to the side with her shoulder.

Not one to be outdone, Jinsol shoves back and uses her body to block Haewon while casually saying, “I’m a Capricorn.”

Yoona blinks, unprepared for that statement of all statements. “What?”

“Just like Sana,” Jinsol clarifies.

Ah, okay. Yoona opens her mouth to reply, but—

“Well, I’m about Sana’s height,” Haewon chimes in, grappling at Jinsol’s arms and shoulders.

“But I’m an ENFP,” Jinsol says, hip checking Haewon, who stumbles to the side with a cry. Taking this chance, Jinsol clambers over the couch to plop herself next to Yoona. “Haewon only has like one of those letters.”

This whole situation is so ridiculous that Yoona has to scrunch her face up to stop from laughing aloud.

And still they persist:

“I know more Japanese than Sol.”

“I’ve taken so many acting classes though.”

“Well, I’ll pay for dinner.”

“Okay, but I’ve actually gone on dates before,” Jinsol says, crossing her arms imperiously.

Lily gasps, eyes darting back and forth between them again, absolutely riveted by their stupid little competition. Yoona’s just not sure how she’s meant to take it seriously.

Haewon glares daggers at Jinsol. “Hey.”

Then, the two jesters look at Yoona, wordlessly demanding an answer with their intense gazes. The snort she was holding back slips out now. Which is the lesser of two evils here? She’s not sure until Jinsol leans in, one arm attempting to curl around Yoona’s shoulder.

Yoona instantly picks, “Haewon.”

Jinsol pouts as Haewon gets in her face with a punctuated, “Ha!”

“Woo, congrats, Haewon,” Lily says, clapping and doing a little cheer.

“That was insane,” Yoona says, grabbing her backpack and standing up. “And on that note, I'm going to bed now.”

It’s what she probably should’ve done in the first place to avoid all this.

“Goodnight, wifey.” Haewon blows an exaggerated air kiss, and Yoona’s budding regrets multiply.

September opens with clear skies and blazing sunlight, just in time for classes to start up. Yoona finalizes her schedule without incident and resolves to do better than ever this semester, sweeping unnecessary distractions to the side.

On Friday morning, a hitch in that plan arrives in the form of Haewon texting her a restaurant location and possible meeting time. A fairly large part of Yoona had hoped Haewon would just forget about the whole ordeal, but it figures she’s not that lucky. Yoona sends back a simple agreement with the rationale that there isn’t that much classwork yet and she might as well get it over with. 

(She doesn’t dare hope that this date will actually be beneficial.)

Once her last class ends, Yoona goes to the gym for a quick treadmill session before showering and preparing for dinner. She throws on a floral dress and ties her hair back in a long braid, judging that this amount of effort is probably enough for Haewon and a not-so-real date.

The restaurant is fortunately only a five minute walk from the dorm, and Yoona arrives just a little past the agreed time. It’s a nice Japanese place that she’s been to before with her parents, with a mix of modern and traditional decor, neon lights illuminating painted shoji screens. She drops Haewon’s name at the door, and the hostess escorts her to the right table.

Haewon stands as they approach, and Yoona is surprised to find Haewon dressed in a gray three-piece suit sans her usual thick-rimmed glasses. Maybe she just came from her internship? Yoona doesn’t know how to feel about their very mismatched fits. Should she have dressed up more? 

Rounding the table, Haewon pulls the chair out for Yoona, allowing her to take a seat before pushing it in.

“Thanks,” Yoona says, though the sudden chivalry from Haewon has only increased her nerves.

“Do you know what you want?” Haewon asks as she returns to her side and hands the menu to Yoona.

“Uhm, yeah.” Yoona holds the plastic menu up anyway, as if it’ll shield her from some of the awkwardness. “I’ll get the yaki udon.”

Haewon takes a few minutes to enter their orders into the table kiosk before asking, “So, how was your day?”

“Not bad,” Yoona says.

There’s a slight pause, like maybe Haewon is expecting more of an answer.

“I feel good about my classes this semester,” Yoona offers up. “How about you?”

“I decided I’ll try and take on that extra class after all,” Haewon says, which is so very typical of her.

“Really? Don’t you have your internship and job too?”

“Yeah, but they’re both part-time.” Haewon waves the concern off, like the math checks out somehow.

“And aren’t you also the treasurer for the Activities Council?”

“We only meet once a week, and it’s just some spreadsheet stuff on my end.”

Yoona side eyes her. “And you’re still helping Lily with her book club, right?”

“That’s really barely anything. I occasionally look over the grammar and structure of her discussion questions, that’s all,” Haewon says, sounding defensive on this one.

“What about the open mic nights at that cafe?” Yoona presses.

“Yeah, it’s a good way to decompress,” Haewon says. “Also if I stop participating now, my drink discount will go away. And you don’t want to know how much I’ve been saving with that.”

“So,” Yoona says, wondering if anything she can say will sway Haewon at all, “you have an extra class, a job, an internship, Activities Council, book club, and open mic nights.”

Haewon quirks her lips to one side, almost chastised. “Well, when you say it all back to back, it does sound like a lot.”

Yoona facepalms. Some people truly don’t want to be saved. 

They pivot to more familiar ground—gossip. It’s one of Yoona’s favorite activities with Haewon; she’s just so creative and scathing about it. They discuss their classmates, friends, and teachers until the steaming hot food arrives, with a scent so fragrant it makes Yoona’s mouth water.

“Why did you want to go on a fake date again?” Haewon asks as she stirs her miso soup.

Exasperated, Yoona corrects, “Practice. Not fake.”

“Semantics.”

“So, you have no idea why you’re here?” Yoona asks, eyebrows knitting in incredulity. “You just came to what… beat Jinsol?”

“Yeah,” Haewon says, like that should be obvious.

Yoona sniffs. “Well, I didn’t really want to do this either, but Lily suggested it, and I thought she’d sulk if I didn’t give it a shot.”

“She probably would,” Haewon says. “She’s the one who reminded me about the whole thing.”

Of course. Showing up Jinsol and trying to look better in Lily’s eyes—Haewon seems to have her own agendas. That’s fine by Yoona, honestly. Why shouldn’t they both get something out of this?

As Yoona takes a big bite of her noodles, Haewon asks in her unceremonious way, “Should we flirt or something?”

Yoona chokes a little and has to furiously chew and swallow before answering. “Excuse me?”

“Isn’t that like the whole point of this?”

“I… I guess,” Yoona says reluctantly. The completely normal and platonic chat up until now had somehow made her forget what a date might additionally entail.

“I feel like we have a special connection,” Haewon says abruptly, laying one hand on top of Yoona’s.

Yoona involuntarily stiffens, a warbling sound of surprise escaping her lips. This is way more unexpected than Lily’s pick-up line. At least Lily loves high-drama romance novels and stuff like that, but Haewon usually comes off more grounded and cynical. Though, actually, Yoona doesn’t know what Haewon is really into besides coffee, webtoons, old people music, and random memes.

Staring at Haewon, Yoona’s unsure what to reply.

Haewon grimaces. “Do you not like me, perhaps?”

“No, I do,” Yoona says, but it sounds flat and unconvincing to even her own ears.

The upper corner of Haewon’s mouth lifts, showing her teeth in a joking but still displeased half-snarl. It’s honestly Yoona’s favorite expression to elicit from Haewon. 

With a sharp laugh, Yoona quickly apologizes. “Sorry, I’ll try and lock in.”

“Good.”

“Yeah, I think we have a special connection too.” Yoona tries her best to school her features into one of sincerity as she takes a few more bites.

“Ms. Seol, your beauty has captured me,” Haewon says, grandiose tone slipping in unseriously.

Yoona has no choice but to match it. “I appreciate that, Ms. Oh. I’m very glad to be here with you.”

“Should we make things official?” Haewon asks, escalating things out of nowhere.

It’s just so preposterous, and Yoona has to fight to keep a straight face. “Maybe we should see where this takes us first.”

“Oh, sure, sure,” Haewon says, hilarity cracking through as well. Then, normally now, she asks, “Is this really how you flirt?”

“I don’t flirt,” Yoona says, matter of fact. Also, Haewon was the one to start it off like that.

“You just stand in a corner and pine?”

That is super rude… and also accurate. In fact, it perfectly describes how Yoona spent her time at Sana’s farewell party.

Yoona tries to turn it around on Haewon, pointedly saying, “I mean, isn’t that what you do too?”

Haewon clears her throat. “This isn’t about me.”

Ha! Smug, Yoona returns her attention back to her meal.

“Alright, let’s try again,” Haewon says, rubbing her forehead. “Where would you take me for a second date?”

“A second date?” Yoona has no clue. “Uhm, another restaurant, I guess?”

“Thai? Vietnamese? French?”

“Sure,” Yoona says, popping a shrimp into her mouth.

“You hate me, right?” Haewon laments dramatically. “You can tell me the truth.”

Yoona brings one hand up to cover her mouth as she stifles a laugh. “Did you want me to say something like, ‘Anywhere is fine, as long as it’s with you?’”

“Literally anything besides just, ‘Sure,’” Haewon pitches her voice lower to match Yoona’s uninterested tone.

Damn, it’s pretty close.

“It’s just hard to overcome the feeling of like…” Yoona gestures with her hand, trying to approximate her cringing reaction.

Taking that feedback into consideration, Haewon adjusts her approach and gives it a few more admirable attempts, asking questions and lobbing compliment after compliment Yoona’s way. 

Eventually, Haewon tires of running into Yoona’s wall of reticence time and time again. She leans back with a rueful smile and asks, “Should we just call it and eat normally?”

Yoona dips her head in a silent apology. “Yes, please.”

“And be honest, did you just come for the meal?” Haewon points out Yoona’s half-empty plate and then her own mostly untouched one.

It definitely wasn’t her intention, but Yoona finds it difficult to come up with an alternate explanation. Luckily, Haewon seems to find it as funny as she does, and the rest of dinner passes amicably and unromantically.

Saturday swings around, with Yoona and her suitemates gathering for a game night. Lily chooses the alligator game for the first activity, and though no one asked for it, Jinsol prepares an array of supposedly fun penalty drinks. Poor Kyujin loses right off the bat and sadly downs what turns out to be a super salty sikhye.

Jiwoo—Yoona’s roommate and the most adorable bite-sized puppy ever—looks between Haewon and Yoona with wide eyes as Kyujin hurries to the sink to rinse out her mouth. “How was your fake date yesterday?”

“Practice date,” Yoona clarifies once more, though she’s starting to think it’s a losing battle. No one seems to remember the difference.

“I don’t think any amount of practice will work for us,” Haewon says, pulling the plastic alligator’s mouth open to reset it.

“You could’ve picked someone better,” Jinsol says in a sing-song.

“I’ll have you know, I was not the problem,” Haewon says, cavalier, as Kyujin returns to her seat. “Yoona is just a terrible date.”

Yoona’s jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

“I tried to flirt with you, and you just stared at me,” Haewon has the gall to say. On top of that, she does an insultingly accurate, if exaggerated, impression of Yoona’s disgusted reaction.

Lily and Kyujin’s expressions read as a “huh, that tracks,” while Jinsol and Jiwoo just giggle away. Yoona didn’t reasonably expect Lily to side with her, since Lily and Haewon have been friends since middle school. And Jinsol was always going to side with the funniest option, which is usually what Haewon is offering. But for Jiwoo and Kyujin to betray her like this?

“Your version of flirting was telling me you think we have a ‘special connection,’” Yoona protests. “And then you just touched my hand.”

“Aww,” Lily coos for some reason, clutching one hand to her chest.

“Aw?” Kyujin thankfully questions.

Nevertheless, self-satisfaction fills Haewon as she selects a tooth and safely passes. Grumpily, Yoona accepts the toy as Haewon passes it off and tries to think of another line of defense. While pondering this, she absentmindedly presses down on a random tooth, forgetting what the alligator is designed to occasionally do.

The mouth snaps shut, clamping down on her finger.

Yoona yelps as her entire body jerks with the shock of it, and her eyes screw shut as the others holler and cackle at her. She doesn’t even have time to mentally or emotionally recover before Jinsol pushes a cup into her hand, grinning widely and way too eagerly. 

Ugh, it must be something terrible, Yoona thinks as she examines the bit of clear liquid at the bottom. She’s played enough games with Jinsol over the years to know her taste in penalties.

Holding the cup to her lips, Yoona is immediately hit by an overpowering smell, reminiscent of rubbing alcohol. Without warning, Jinsol tips the bottom of the cup up, and some of the liquid makes burning contact with the tip of Yoona’s tongue.

Yoona splutters as her eyes water, and her words come out in a strangled squawk, “Are you crazy?”

“What was it?” Jiwoo asks, mouth forming an O.

“Is this kaoliang?” Yoona demands, blood rushing to her cheeks and ears in indignation.

Jinsol just does her infuriating little snicker and winks.

And with that, Yoona forgets about her argument with Haewon in favor of raining slaps and punches down Jinsol’s shoulder and back.

Later that evening, Yoona and Jinsol have the distinct privilege (and ultimate losing penalty) of doing the night’s dishes. They use rock paper scissors to settle on Yoona washing and Jinsol drying, getting to work while the others head to their rooms.

“Did you really just stare at Haewon when she tried to flirt with you?” Jinsol asks, one eyebrow raised, somewhere between curious and amused.

“It was out of nowhere!” Yoona exclaims.

“And it got worse after that, right?” Jinsol leans against Yoona’s shoulder, laughing.

“Yes, but it wasn’t entirely my fault,” Yoona insists.

“I believe you,” Jinsol assures her. “Haewon hates to drown.”

That’s an unexpected assessment. It just seems like Jinsol and Haewon often share the same singular brain cell, so they end up agreeing on even the most ridiculous things. But then again, Yoona muses, they can get pretty competitive with one another as well. One time at karaoke, they had a showdown on who could sing the loudest. That’s right, not the best but the loudest. In her memory, no one won that night.

A petty idea occurs to Yoona now, and pettiness is something she excels in.

“You owe me for earlier,” Yoona says, doing away with any preamble.

“Huh? For the penalty?” Jinsol shakes her head. “No way, you lost fair and square. That’s not on me.”

“You forced me to drink it,” Yoona points out. “You didn’t do that to anyone else.”

“Oops,” Jinsol says, unrepentant.

“But there’s a way you can make it up to me,” Yoona says, trying her best to sound nonchalant. Historically speaking, Jinsol doesn’t make things easy on her, which makes this a potentially tough ask. “I still need to go on a good practice date.”

“Oh?” Jinsol’s eyes widen. “With me?”

Yoona has to admit that Lily might’ve been onto something. As a theater major and aspiring actor, Jinsol is a good pick. She’ll be able to commit to the bit without breaking character or going way too over the top like Lily, and she won’t be as daunted by Yoona’s lackluster responses as Haewon was.

Holding up one soapy hand in warning, Yoona says, “Not if you make a big deal about it.”

“That doesn’t sound like something I would do,” Jinsol says, so clearly bursting with barely restrained mirth.

The obvious lie coaxes a high-pitched laugh from Yoona, and she bumps her shoulder against Jinsol’s.

“Rest assured, I won’t take the responsibility lightly.” Jinsol dips down into an elaborate bow with all the embellishments, gesturing wildly before fumbling and dropping a cleaned plate.

“Ya!” Luckily, Yoona reaches out just in time to catch it with both hands. “Can you take this one more seriously too?”

Jinsol has the good sense to apologize and smile sheepishly.

Yoona shakes her head. This will all be worth it in the end, she reminds herself, when she sees the look on Haewon’s face after hearing that Jinsol was the better date.

Monday is Yoona’s most relaxed weekday, her last class finishing early in the afternoon. As she packs her bag, she overhears some of her classmates making gaming plans for the weekend. When she hurries out of the building, she’s hit with a shockingly fitting plan.

Yoona retrieves her phone and shoots a text off to Jinsol, inviting her to the nearby PC cafe. It’s one of Yoona’s comfort places, and they’ve played a lot of Animal Crossing and Minecraft together in the past, so this doesn’t feel like entirely new territory. And if the whole thing fails again, they can opt to play games until that’s all just a bad memory. It’s as foolproof as it gets.

Even though they have different majors, Jinsol’s schedule is still pretty close to hers this semester, and so she should also be done for the day. As that thought crosses Yoona’s mind, the screen displays an incoming call from Jinsol. Somewhere in this years-long friendship, Jinsol must have gotten the wrong impression of Yoona’s preference regarding calling versus texting.

Still, Yoona answers with a, “What’s up?”

“Hello to you too,” Jinsol says. “Is this the practice thing?”

Finally! Someone remembers it’s a practice date and not a fake one. Yoona smiles and hums. 

“Yeah, are you busy?”

“Should I be dressing up? If yes, then I’ll have to go back to the dorm and change.”

“No, no, just come as you are,” Yoona answers hurriedly. 

More than anything, she wants to avoid a repeat of the experience with Haewon. Nothing formal, just relaxed.

“You sure? I clean up real nice.” Jinsol’s dumb sneer can practically be heard through the call.

So cheesy. 

Yoona scoffs out a laugh. “Yes, I’m very sure.”

“Alriiiiight,” Jinsol says, pulling the vowel long and dubious. “I’ll be there in twenty-ish minutes.”

Yoona arrives at the cafe and waits around at the entrance, engaged in a matching game on her phone. She tries to envision how a good practice date should go, since so far, she’s only had disastrous examples. Maybe she should take the initiative this time around. Then she’ll have a small sense of security and direction. Though, with Jinsol, she’s never felt either one of them were truly in control of their hangouts. Things just tend to happen on whim.

Worry tries to worm its way into Yoona’s chest now—what if this is somehow even worse than the previous two? But the bitterness she feels over Haewon saying she was a bad date is more than enough to keep it at bay.

Not too long after these thoughts seep away, she spots Jinsol approaching from a distance. Jinsol’s bob is shorter than Haewon’s, ending right below her chin, and has a windswept volume today that gives her a laidback, almost messy look. And much to Yoona’s relief, Jinsol has come in casual clothing, donning her usual sportswear—which every so often tricks strangers into thinking she’s much cooler than she actually is.

But the thing that makes Yoona’s stomach drop is the sight of Jinsol’s very specific oversized brown Adidas jacket. It’s the same one that Yoona’s wearing right now.

Drawing close, Jinsol breaks into rude laughter upon realizing it too. 

“Did you match me on purpose?” she asks, which was also Yoona’s first thought.

“No!” Yoona insists. “And I’m older, so you’re matching me.”

“Adidas jackets are my thing though,” Jinsol says, which is sadly true.

Her closet has always been stuffed full with a crazy number of them, all in different colors. That just kinda slipped Yoona’s mind when she bought it, and so she has no one to blame but herself for what’s happening now.

“I…”

“I get it, I get it.” Jinsol puffs up annoyingly, so pleased with herself and this turn of events. “You just wanted to get the couple look down so we can get into character, right?”

“Tch.” Yoona’s breath vents through her teeth in annoyance. But with no other course of argumentation, she can only change the subject. “Let’s go and reserve the computers before it’s too crowded.”

And then Yoona takes off in that direction before Jinsol can potentially protest or—and this one is far more likely—mock her any further. Jinsol practically skips after Yoona, but at least she doesn’t say anything, which is as close to a victory as Yoona’s getting. 

At the front desk, they reserve two computers in Yoona’s preferred corner of the cafe before heading to their spots. Jinsol promptly lets her backpack fall to the floor before plopping down in the chair, spinning as she waits for the login to process. 

As Yoona also takes a seat, it occurs to her that this hasn’t been very date-like so far. In fact, it’s pretty close to how they usually just hang out. Maybe she should try and direct things that way.

“Sol—” Yoona starts, which is a huge mistake, because she doesn’t have the rest of that sentence thought out yet.

“Hm?” Jinsol pivots to face her.

What should Yoona even say? I think you look nice today? I’m glad to be here with you? Do either of those statements actually qualify as flirting? Is flirting just saying nice things in a specific way?

As these thoughts swirl around in her head, she’s keenly aware that Jinsol is still waiting for the rest of that thought. She needs to buckle in. Channeling all of her affection for Sana, Yoona takes a deep breath and says, “I’ve liked you for a really long time.”

At least, that’s what she intends to happen.

Instead, her throat tightens, strangling the words until they die an undignified death. Instead, her nostrils flare and her lips tremble in pure embarrassment and revulsion. Instead, a shrill noise of disgust escapes her, not dissimilar to “ick.”

“Oh?” Jinsol’s eyebrows lift in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” Yoona says, desperately fighting her rising laughter. That surely won’t help her case.

“Mhm.” Jinsol sweeps her hand to the side, clearly looking forward to Yoona’s explanation.

Unfortunately, Yoona doesn’t know how to get herself out of this one, so she decides to go with honesty. “I was thinking of how to start a date.”

“So, you were hyping yourself up to try and what? Flirt with me?” Jinsol asks in realization.

Yoona’s just thankful she didn’t have to put it into words herself.

“...yes.”

Jinsol cracks up, and it’s infectious enough to get Yoona too. Self-conscious, Yoona weakly swats at Jinsol’s back.

“Oh, that was really good,” Jinsol says, wiping at her eyes.

“Shut up,” Yoona says goodnaturedly.

“Hey, relax, we don’t have to do that kind of stuff right away,” Jinsol says. “Why don’t we play something instead? What are you feeling?”

Glad for the redirection, Yoona clicks through the directory, browsing for a bit before deciding on something they haven’t played before. “Let’s try Overcooked.”

They launch the tutorial, figuring out what the objectives are and which buttons do what. Ten minutes in, and Yoona feels a distinct lack of skill and gaming chemistry between the two of them. They issue frantic and often incorrect orders to each other, panic throw ingredients in all directions, and every now and then manage to submit one complete order. Yet somehow, it’s the most fun Yoona’s had in ages.

As they finally finish up the first few beginning levels, Yoona’s stomach growls with sudden hunger.

“Jagiya, wanna order food?” Jinsol slings at her out of nowhere.

Yoona’s face contorts in horror. Why would she say that?

“Did you forget we’re supposed to be on a date?” Jinsol asks.

Oh, right.

“I have an idea,” Jinsol says. But the roguish curve of her lips means it’s a bad idea, entertaining only to an audience of one.

Foolish curiosity still spurs Yoona to ask, “What is it?”

Jinsol crosses her arms, lounging back in her chair. “How about: whenever one of us breaks from the dating scenario, that person has to take a penalty.”

Of course that’s where she’d take it.

“What kind of penalty?” Yoona asks, reluctantly interested.

Jinsol holds up two fingers. “Slap on the wrist?”

“You love that one.”

“‘Cause it’s fun.”

Sure, if you’re the one doling it out, Yoona thinks. Jinsol obviously figures Yoona doesn’t stand a chance, which is—all things considered—a safe bet.

“And why would I agree to that?” Yoona thinks aloud.

“Think of it as motivation.”

Yoona narrows her eyes. It’s clear Jinsol just wants an excuse to bully her. But… maybe she’s kind of right about it being incentivizing.

“Fine,” Yoona agrees.

Privately, she resolves to get Jinsol at least once by the end of the night. After all, once is all she needs to make it count.

Jinsol immediately brings her fingers down on Yoona’s wrist with a quick hit, leaving the familiar stinging sensation behind.

“Hey!”

“You’ve been breaking the whole time,” Jinsol says smugly. “Alright, let’s order.”

With the prospect of food on the horizon, Yoona shelves her complaints for the time being, and the two of them take a few minutes to discuss the menu and place their orders. Yoona decides on a Buldak with pork belly, and Jinsol hems and haws until finally settling on Chapagetti topped with a fried egg. Yoona considers dropping a “wimp” remark, but that would probably qualify as not date-like.

Once the order is submitted, they watch a few videos on YouTube and chat for a bit before Jinsol abruptly asks, “So, why did you ask me out?” 

She adopts an innocent expression, eyes shining with open curiosity and a delight that can’t be muted.

Yoona pushes down her instinct to recoil away, clenching her hands into fists to ground herself, and meets Jinsol’s gaze head on.

“You’re… cute,” Yoona says.

Yes, sure, the pause between words makes her sound disingenuous. But that’s only because it is disingenuous. She doesn’t enjoy cringey stuff like this with anyone except maybe Jiwoo and Kyujin, but they’re her precious babies who deserve to be doted on. She half-expects to be punished for the insincerity, but Jinsol easily pushes on.

“Aw, thanks,” Jinsol says with dauntless cheer. Then with a slight pout, she asks, “But is that all you like about me?”

Yoona’s eyes narrow, and her mouth opens with every intention of lashing out at Jinsol’s blatant compliment fishing. Grinning, Jinsol raises her hand in warning.

There’s no way Yoona is willing to lose again this quickly. She plasters on the fakest smile and grinds out, “No, there’s lots of things I like.”

“Give me some examples,” Jinsol says, seriously pushing her luck.

“I like that you have the energy of an overgrown, feral puppy,” Yoona says, tinged with sweet venom, “and that you’re willing to sacrifice everything just for one mildly funny joke.”

Jinsol lets out an equally superficial giggle and says, “Wow, you must really like me.”

That finally pulls a sharp laugh from Yoona, and Jinsol reacts whip-quick, cheekily striking Yoona’s forearm. It leaves a faint mark that quickly fades, but it’s Yoona’s pride that takes the biggest hit.

Before Yoona can retaliate, she’s interrupted with the arrival of their food, and the two thank the server, making room for the bowls and drinks.

Digging in, Yoona tries to fight back, asking, “Why did you agree to come then?”

“Are you asking me what I like about you?”

Yoona nods, and instead of the usual joking sneer, Jinsol lights up.

“What’s not to like? You’re seriously so pretty, like a fairytale princess come to life, your face is so small, and your hair looks so perfect today,” Jinsol says, tilting her head from one side to the other in teasing provocation.

It’s much more silly than touching, which Yoona prefers anyway. Satisfied, she starts to reply, but surprisingly, Jinsol has more to say.

“It’s comfortable when it’s just the two of us, like we don’t have to try and be anyone but ourselves,” Jinsol continues. “And I like how we match each other perfectly by being complete opposites.”

Brow furrowing, Yoona asks, “How is that matching perfectly?”

“Like with gummy bears,” Jinsol says, and Yoona instantly catches on. 

In the variety packs, Jinsol likes the white and green ones but not the yellow and red, while Yoona has the reverse preference. It’s convenient for them to split, each eating only the ones they like.

“That’s true,” Yoona acknowledges.

Damn, Jinsol’s answer was so much better. Maybe Yoona has to face that she does just thoroughly suck at this kind of thing. But that would mean Haewon was right, and that’s an unacceptable state of affairs.

And so when Jinsol prompts, “Are you having fun with me so far?”, Yoona takes a deep breath and summons all the shameless power of acting she can muster. 

Batting her eyelashes a couple times, Yoona replies in a high, dulcet tone, “Yes, you’re really good at video games.”

Jinsol presses her lips together, a laugh clearly threatening to burst out. 

All pretense drops away now as Yoona warns her, “Don’t.”

It has the opposite intended effect, causing Jinsol to openly laugh in her face. Normally, this would be humiliating—Yoona’s first genuine attempt at flirting being met with derision. But then she remembers this is the opportunity she’s been waiting for.

“Penalty,” Yoona says immediately, like her trap card has been activated.

“Fine.” Resigned, Jinsol holds out her wrist.

Yoona pushes her hand away. “No, that’s not enough.”

Jinsol cocks an eyebrow questioningly.

And everything has aligned for this moment. Yoona pushes her ramen towards Jinsol, the chili-infused soup glittering red under the bright lighting.

“Eh?! No way,” Jinsol says, fiercely shaking her head.

“You like being hit on the wrist. It’s not actually a fair penalty, if you think about it,” Yoona says and folds her arms with a haughty flourish.

Jinsol fidgets with her chopsticks, clearly trying to think of a way out of this. 

“Maybe I could—”

“No,” Yoona says firmly.

“But—”

“Nope.”

Jinsol’s face falls, her eyes large and pleading, but Yoona remains unmoved by the amateur display.

Finally, Jinsol gives it up and says, “You are a cruel, cruel woman.”

“One bite,” Yoona says, feeling like that’s merciful enough.

With a huff, Jinsol acquiesces, honoring the spirit of the penalties, as Yoona knew she ultimately would. Yoona triumphantly picks up her chopsticks to feed Jinsol a mouthful.

“It’s not that bad, right?” Yoona asks as Jinsol chews.

No sooner than the end of the sentence, Jinsol’s lips peel back and her whole face tenses up. The immense suffering in her expression makes Yoona chuckle. 

Okay, maybe it was a bit much.

Yoona hands her milk tea off to Jinsol to help with the spiciness. After taking a few desperate sips, Jinsol recovers enough to aim a playful punch at Yoona’s shoulder, which Yoona fails to ward off. She takes the hit with a very dignified yelp.

“Whew, that woke me up,” Jinsol says with a forceful exhale. “Let’s play some more games.”

Finally, something Yoona is good at. She happily agrees.

Hours later, Yoona and Jinsol walk back to their apartment, enjoying the cool night air.

“Was that even close to being a date?” Yoona wonders. “It wasn’t that different from us hanging out.”

Jinsol purses her lips, thinking it over. After a moment, she nudges Yoona and says, “You could give me a kiss goodnight.”

It’s wholly unexpected, causing Yoona to snort and smack Jinsol’s arm much harder than she means to.

Jinsol manages a pained smirk through her wince. “Is that how you’re ending your first date with Sana? Physical abuse?”

“Sana won’t be as annoying as you.”

“That’s probably true,” Jinsol says without a hint of shame. “How do you want it to go with her then?”

“I…” Yoona hesitates before ceding. “I don’t know.”

“You can figure it out now then, since it’s low stakes, just the two of us,” Jinsol says, offensively bringing logic into this discussion. “Give it a shot. I’ll be Sana.”

There’s an initial resistance to the suggestion of roleplaying, but Yoona has come this far already. The idea of making a fool of herself in front of the biggest clown she’s ever known? Well, it’s not that bad. Jinsol will probably tease in the moment, but she won’t hold it over Yoona’s head in the future.

And so, Yoona tries to envision the scenario in her head: they’ve just been on a fun little first date, and now Sana is looking at her expectantly with all the radiance in the world.

Though the image is just in her imagination, Yoona still finds herself stuttering, “I-I’ve liked you for a long time.”

“That’s so sweet,” Jinsol says, voice pitched upwards and cutesy in a surprisingly similar impression. Her eyes gleam like she’s letting the delusions take her over. “I had so much fun with you tonight, did you enjoy it too?”

Jinsol presses a finger to Yoona’s cheek—which yes, Sana did do one time, and yes, Yoona then told everyone about at least two or three or twenty times. Mortification floods through Yoona’s veins, and her heart has the gall to flutter, which is an unfortunate testament to Jinsol’s acting abilities. The realization goads Yoona into meeting the challenge too.

“Yes, I did,” Yoona says, fingers curling into her palm as she tries to keep her voice steady. “I love spending time with you, unnie.”

Jinsol raises her brows, letting a beat pass between them, like she’s waiting for something specific.

“Can we… do this again sometime?” Yoona ventures.

Beaming and holding her arms wide open, Jinsol says, “Yes, of course!”

Is Jinsol trying to get a hug from her? Yoona cautiously steps into her embrace, fully expecting to be throttled or swung around like a ragdoll.

Instead, Jinsol squeezes just once before releasing her. “Honestly? That was pretty good.”

That’s kind of a shock.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, for you,” Jinsol says, which should feel insulting, but Yoona decides not to take it that way.

They head into their suite, finding the shared common space empty and eerily quiet. As they remove and hang up their jackets, Yoona begins to say that she still has some reading to finish up.

But Jinsol cuts in. “Can I give you one tiny piece of advice though?”

She’s probably earned it, given she basically donated half a day to the cause. Yoona nods and gestures for her to go on.

“When you’re talking with Sana, maybe try and act like you’re hanging with a friend,” Jinsol says, cautious, like she wants to word things right. “You tend to get really nervous around her, and then you start acting timid and cute instead of just having fun.”

“I—” Various protests bubble up, but Yoona recognizes the rare nugget of wisdom in Jinsol’s words too. “Okay. Noted.”

Jinsol slants a small smile, and Yoona finds herself unintentionally returning it. 

“Thanks for the date, Yoona. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Yoona echoes.

The next afternoon, when Yoona bumps into Haewon in the cafeteria, she passes by her with a, “By the way, Haewon…”

“Yeah?”

“Jinsol ended up being a much better practice date,” Yoona says, taking her steps backwards so she can see Haewon’s full reaction.

Haewon’s jaw drops, outrage creasing her brow. 

“How much did Bae Jinsol pay you?” she demands.

Totally worth it.

Whirlwind incarnate, Yoona moves frantically from one side of her room to the other—tossing dirty clothes into the hamper, organizing her desk, making her bed, even vacuuming and dusting. In the tidy aftermath, she grabs her phone and examines herself in the camera. Sighing, she turns her face to the right and then the left, eagle-eyed and on the lookout for any sign of puffiness. If her friends were here, they’d heckle her over this level of scrutiny, but they’re not, and Yoona has more pressing matters on her mind today.

Her phone vibrates, signaling an incoming FaceTime call, and she has to physically force herself to wait past two rings before answering.

Yoona taps to accept and is greeted by the most beautiful sight she could hope for. Minatozaki Sana—with her perfectly coiffed hair and skin so smooth it transcends the grainy quality of the video.

“Hi!” Sana says brightly.

There’s something about her that makes Yoona’s heart thump wildly in her chest after just one word and a flash of a smile.

“How are you?” Sana asks. “How’s your semester going so far?”

Yoona shares a bit about her classes and some miscellaneous gossip that Sana probably has already heard about from her other friends. It’s boring stuff, Yoona can admit that, but Sana never lets it show on her face, listening in her attentive and patient manner the whole way through.

“How about you?” Yoona asks. “How’s home?”

“It’s been really wonderful, I’m glad I took the semester off,” Sana says. “My parents and I just came back from a trip to Okinawa.”

Sana shares a few more details, as well as activities she has planned, all rattled off in an almost rehearsed way. And it’s then that Yoona realizes these are probably the types of things she’s had to tell everyone else who’s asked.

It’s small talk purgatory, and Yoona doesn’t have an exit strategy. And based off the way their conversations usually go, it’s set to peter out in about two or three more sentences. But what can she do to change their usual trajectory? 

Jinsol’s advice from the other day comes to mind now, and Yoona’s lost enough to give it a shot.

For a moment, Yoona imagines she’s just talking to Jiwoo or Kyujin and suddenly finds herself saying, “I went out on a date a few days ago.”

“A date?” Sana perks up and leans forward, interest sparked. “Tell me everything.”

Everything doesn’t seem wise, so Yoona trims it down to, “We didn’t want to put too much pressure on it, so we went to a PC cafe and played some games, ate some ramen, that kind of stuff.”

“That sounds like a nice time,” Sana says encouragingly.

“I’m not sure it’ll go anywhere or anything,” Yoona rushes to say. She pays special attention to Sana’s expression, trying to gauge her reaction.

But Sana just smiles, serene light surrounding her like a halo. “You can see where things take you. Like an exciting adventure.”

Yoona finds herself nodding, eternally charmed by Sana’s unfettered cheeriness.

“So, do you want there to be a second date?” Sana asks with a twinkle in her eye.

“Um.” Yoona hesitates. “I’m not sure yet.”

Which is the honest truth.