the things only we can guess.

[lovebalance]

fandom: stayc

pairing: jayoon/yeeun

tags: modern setting, high school, coming of age, pre-relationship vibes, outsider pov (for a brief moment.)
rating: t 

notes: a stayc fic? yeah, i am unsure as well. went into this expecting 250 words at most, now it’s 2.4k. so, if anyone was looking for a silly fic that is mostly a contemporary thought bubble, i hope this helps your needs. if anyone finds this, i hope you enjoy it as well. sorry for any typos!

Shim Jayoon had the manner of a young boy in elementary school. You know, the type that will tug at you, the one who will pull at your pigtails. Both in the physical sense and personality-wise, actually.

Yeeun knows this best.

Though she’s cut her hair now, she’ll never quite forget it. Sometimes, if she thinks about it, she’ll feel it; the strands of hair clinging to her scalp as they were tugged during playtime, the way that even if she tried to control her head, it would tilt back, her eyes looking up. To the classroom ceiling sometimes, to the sky, the sun. 

Yeeun had cried about it, towards the end. It was a very dramatic day, she recalls. She’s pretty sure she had snot running down her face as they walked Jayoon and her to the office, seating them alone in a room, the door cracked open so the secretary of the office could keep an eye out. 

Yeeun doesn’t remember everything that day, besides that it was a Friday, and the air conditioner in the school had broken a few days before. Perhaps it was the humidity along with the continuous tears that made the day hazy to her, perhaps it was the nap she took afterward.

Even so, the colors and the words of that day are a blur, but she will always remember one thing.

“I’m sorry,” The other girl whispered to her after a little bit. She had gotten up, or maybe she was already standing in front of Yeeun. The sweater she was wearing at the time was too bright and too big, even for Jayoon, but she had rolled her sleeves up and tried to pat away the mess on Yeeun’s face. “I didn’t want you to cry.”

“It hurts when you pull my hair,” Yeeun said lamely, but when you’re small and emotional, speaking hurts more, like tying a ribbon around your throat. Jayoon doesn’t stop trying to wipe the snot away, both of them a bit too young to ask for a tissue. 

Then Jayoon said, “I just wanted to play with you.”

That was so long ago, and Yeeun can’t figure out why those moments stick with her so much. Jayoon had admitted to her later, way later, that her aunt made her throw that sweater away because it was a bit old anyway, and the snot just made it worse. 

Something about it made her sad. Yeeun wonders-when she’s looking up at the false solar system on her ceiling before bed-if Jayoon also remembers these days like her. She wonders if the other ever looked at Yeeun these days, her hair, wishes that it would grow longer, that Yeeun would braid it, so she can tug it, maybe a bit more gently this time. Jayoon was always bigger, stronger too. Her gentle tugs sometimes felt like heavy anchors at the time. But after that day in the office, Jayoon softened the grip. She had shown Yeeun other ways she was strong, and even though Yeeun never asked, never needed proof of it, Jayoon showed it off anyway. (Like the stage in their relationship then, where Jayoon kept asking if she could carry all the chairs whenever the teacher needed them, always getting distracted in the process by gleefully going, “Yeeun, look at me! I’m carrying four all by myself!”)

The day Yeeun showed up with her hair short, barely reaching her shoulder, Jayoon had stared. Even when Seeun was gushing over it to her, she didn’t speak up until after, when they were walking in the halls. 

“You look pretty.”

Jayoon had tapped her finger against Yeeun’s forehead as she said it, before grinning in a way that hid so much and nothing at all. As she walked away, Yeeun looked on, then followed her. 

That’s the silly part, Yeeun decides. Jayoon’s not pulling her hands, but she’s still pulling Yeeun everywhere with her. 

Yeeun doesn’t mind it. 

+

Maybe Jayoon’s not sure which buttons to press when it comes to Yeeun, so she just presses all of them. 

Maybe there’s a part in her that loves it, Seeun thinks for a second. It’s moments like these that make Seeun imagine Jayoon in a white coat, hair frizzled, goggles broken, wondering out loud ‘What does this do?” before she presses something she finds in a laboratory. In this sense, the laboratory would have a sign that read, Yeeun’s Space: Please Do Not Touch Anything Unless Told Otherwise.

There’s chaos, so jarring and fast, alarms blaring a bit. After that though, is the interesting part. Instead of any real hurt or anger, someone scolding Jayoon harshly for being where she shouldn’t be, there is only silence. The alarms slow and stop, the lights flash red, red, then stop, and the windows open. 

And maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll see the owner of the lab, Yeeun, laughing, face stained with color, eyes happy. 

Seeun has only seen it a few times, but from what she remembers, she knows. Maybe that’s why Jayoon keeps going back, like she can’t help it, even with the signs and warnings to not be reckless. 

A good place to see it would be here:

During chemistry, one of the first classes of the day, Seeun and Jayoon both scribbling back and forth on a shared piece of paper. Seeun has her back turned as the teacher explains the new few weeks of work, tapping her pencil against the white sheet, wondering what to doodle next, even as students begin to talk. 

She decides to draw a small attempt at a dolphin, before grinning and looking up at Jayoon. 

She’s distracted. Even when she tries to hide it, Seeun can tell. The way Jayoon’s eyes keep quickly going between the black table and the front of the room, the way she places her chin in her palm, attempting a look of nonchalance. 

Seeun blinks in confusion, before turning around to look at the teacher and-

Oh. 

Makes sense. 

Yeeun was friends with Jayoon first. That is something Seeun keeps trying to remind herself of. Not that there was any malice towards Yeeun; Seeun and her had done a history assignment together when they both entered this new school a couple of years back. Yeeun was nothing but sweet and hardworking, and didn’t stop reaching out to Seeun afterward, asking her to hang out or text her whenever she felt like it. 

Seeun thinks she’s more like Yeeun than Jayoon. Yeeun is the essence of the color pink (in this case, the pink you see on peaches); Yeeun loves adorable stationary charms, likes picking fruits at the farm that was a bit out of town during the autumn, she even likes finding clubs at school that focuses on art or books. 

Seeun thinks about the matching Sanrio charm that hangs off of both of their bags before she thinks about the first time she saw Yeeun and Jayoon together. 

Jayoon, who Seeun knows from years of middle school together, was a contrast from others. Jayoon, who likes to play against all the boys, then and now, during sports at breaktime. Jayoon, who is at her most comfortable when she laughs loudly (a bit obnoxiously, Yeeun had texted Seeun out of love on time), and doesn’t cover her mouth as she does. Jayoon, who is very aggressive when speaking to someone, friend or not, even Seeun was a bit taken aback by it at first. 

So when they all came to the same school after, Jayoon bounced up to Yeeun and wrapped her arm around her shoulder-and honestly, it looked like a headlock at the time, with the way Yeeun kept leaning back as Jayoon started teasing her by saying her words close to her ear- Yeeun pink in the cheeks as her wide smile and gleeful energy took over her face, Seeun thought. 

‘How could someone like Yeeun, and someone like Jayoon, be close like that?’

Then, when Jayoon accidentally let it slip during a drive with Seeun to the nearest mega-supermarket that she was upset that Yeeun was traveling for the summer, is when Seeun realized it was a gay thing. Even when Jayoon started to deflect and joke around saying, “Oh, but you’re obviously my favorite person in this whole town, Seeun,” Seeun held on, she knew. 

Then it was pretty hard to miss when Jayoon would carry Yeeun’s bags along with her own, trying to brag that she was stronger than Yeeun before moving on so Yeeun couldn't ask to help. Or when Jayoon remembers silly things (to Seeun, they are pretty silly, but Jayoon would and has disagreed) like what Yeeun wore on a school trip a few months ago. “The floral dress you looked really beautiful and short in,” Jayoon explained at the time, digging her socked foot into Yeeub’s back just a bit. (Yeeun had been so focused on the description of short at the time she never asked Jayoon about the beautiful part, or even noticed the frantic panic in Jayoon’s eyes or light pink blush on her face after she said it, almost like she was looking for Seeun to help.)

Or when Jayoon looked for her in crowded places, trying to act like she wasn’t slowly moving to stand beside her, but she is. 

And okay, maybe Seeun is a bit giddy for both of them when she sees these things. That’s probably why when she sees Yeeun conversing with the teacher about being late and the new project, Seeun raises her hand and loudly asks, “Is it okay if she joins Jayoon? I have an emergency!”

The teacher looks at her, causing Seeun to do a few exaggerated gestures toward her stomach and lower half. The woman sighs, nodding before turning towards Yeeun again. Jayoon’s eyes are sending frantic signals to Seeun as she packs her bag, but this time, Seeun chooses to ignore them.

Yeeun pats Seeun’s shoulder as she walks by, offering a “Feel better.”

Five minutes later or so, as she’s walking at a snail’s pace through the halls, her phone buzzes.

It reads: 

yoon🐯

u r a liar!!

liar liar liar!!!!

hate u.!!!11!

And Seeun feels so much better, way more than she needed to. 

+

Sometimes when Yeeun is in front of her, Jayoon wants to do nothing but pull her hair.

She hasn’t been able to figure out why for a long time, but it always comes back. Her fingers twitch, maybe one will start tapping her thigh or her phone screen or the table, and Jayoon looks. 

The first time it happened was years ago, and Yeeun had a green ribbon at the end of her two braids. Jayoon, who was already told by her aunt to be on her best behavior, noticed Yeeun that day as soon as she had walked in. Yeeun, who had needed a few extra minutes with her mom to calm down, dressed pretty, shoes shiny. Much better than the ones Jayoon had on, some boy joked at the time, covered in paint and marker, shoelaces loose and covered in dirt. 

But Jayoon agreed. She had, and it didn’t make her upset at all.

Maybe it was that boy’s fault, she can’t even remember his name now. But maybe if he hadn't said that, Jayoon wouldn’t have thought, ‘Oh, I want to tell her that her shoes are cute.’ Then maybe she wouldn't have been looking at Yeeun all day that day, the other sitting in front of her, shy and little. Jayoon was always told she was taller than the other kids, her older sister was the same way, but she didn’t think it mattered much. But when she had to stand behind Yeeun in a line, she remembers thinking simply, ‘She’s smaller than me.’ 

And that made her kid brain happy.

“What’s your name,” Jayoon had asked her when Yeeun turned around for a moment. Yeeun was surprised at the time, her eyes a bit big. 

“Yeeun.”

“Hi Yeeun,” Jayoon replied with enthusiasm, a few other kids looking back before turning to talk to each other again. “I’m Jayoon.”

Yeeun nodded, and Jayoon didn’t want the conversation to end, so she said, “You’re really small. I bet you could barely reach the bars for the jungle gym.” 

Looking back on it, whenever she has a moment years later, Jayoon wishes she could’ve said something else. She had so much she wanted to say, like about the green ribbons, or the shoes, or the fact that Yeeun’s name sounded like someone she knew from church. 

She doesn’t blame Yeeun for not knowing how to respond to that at the time and doesn't blame her for turning around either. 

Jayoon had only thought, ‘Wait, I want to keep talking to her.’ It was as if all of her thoughts at that moment became jumbled up in her mind, and before she knew it, she tugged one of her braids.

Jayoon remembers the teacher scolding her after Yeeun made a noise of complaint, and she remembers the way the green ribbon on her left side was loose for the rest of the day, but the right one was perfectly tight.

Yeeun came to school the next day with red ribbons.

Jayoon couldn’t stay away.

So when Yeeun showed up one day with her hair short, Jayoon felt an irrational fear. Jayoon had listened to Seeun gush about it as she looked, but Jayoon couldn’t muster up the words at the moment. She thinks if she had opened her mouth at the time, she would have said something really dumb, like she was in elementary school again, starstruck at Yeeun's existence.

Like a really dumb boy.

So when she taps her fingers against Yeeun’s forehead and Yeeun smiles at her, a little stunned and pleased with the compliment Jayoon gave her, she walks ahead. Her irrational mind goes, ‘Maybe this is the part of high school where Yeeun realizes when we graduate she doesn’t need me, and this is the first subliminal message that she’s planning to get rid of me.’

Jayoon tries to imagine a life without Yeeun. 

It’s hard. 

But as she hears Yeeun skip up beside her, linking their arms together, teasingly questioning “Oooh, Shim Jayoon, are you being sweet to me today,” she realizes something.

She feels the warmth from Yeeun’s body, blinks her eyes quickly, and clenches her jaw a bit when Yeeun giggles and leans on her shoulder, that she doesn’t have to.