Mission Accomplished
With midterms fast approaching, the final days of September saw the festival preparations quietly set aside as the students returned to their proper duties. The math class had already covered everything on the exam, all the way to the end.
"Study on your own today."
Reasoning that no one would really listen to a lecture anyway, the homeroom teacher said as much—and Yeoncheong raised her hand.
"Teacher, can we have our festival meeting?"
"You still haven't sorted it out?"
"No, we just have to assign roles and we're done."
Now that the biggest hurdle—the costume problem—had been cleared, everything else went smoothly.
Teacher Jisu glanced down the hallway, then hesitated, her lips twitching.
"The other classes are in session, so you'll keep it down, right?"
Claiming she had other things to do, the teacher headed off to the teachers' office, while Yeoncheong made her way to the front of the classroom for the last class meeting before midterms.
"You don't want this dragging on either, right? Let's wrap it up fast and get back to studying."
Midterms were right around the corner.
The class nodded quietly.
"So, there are two things left to do. Assigning roles, and a vote on the penalty costume."
The puzzling words penalty costume slipped out of Yeoncheong's mouth, but her classmates simply waited patiently for an explanation.
"First, the role assignments. We're splitting into three teams: costumes, props, and menu. It's not like you can switch teams halfway through, so don't overthink it."
Hands shot up around the room as she called out each team's name. Yeoncheong read off the names, and the vice class president jotted them down beside her.
Her own friends drifted to wherever suited them. Suyeon chose the costume team, which she'd had her eye on from the start; Nayun, claiming she had no knack for crafts, went to props; and Hasol, naturally, picked the menu team. Seoha, with all her student council duties, was left on hold for now.
Perhaps because Yeoncheong had told everyone to decide in advance, the role assignments wrapped up in no time.
While the vice class president checked that no one had been left out, Yeoncheong turned to her friends and spoke up.
"Now, about the penalty costume..."
She was hurrying on to the second item when the vice class president cut her off.
"Hold on, Yeoncheong. Which one are you doing?"
"Oh. Right, I need to pick one too."
As if it had completely slipped her mind, Yeoncheong stared at the sheet of names and mulled it over.
Maybe she truly hadn't thought about it at all. As the silence stretched on, Nayun tossed out a suggestion.
"Just put her on the menu team. Yeoncheong's a great cook."
"How do you know that?"
At a classmate's question, Nayun shrugged.
"Because I've eaten her cooking."
"It's true. It's really good."
"Good enough that our club tried to poach her."
Once Nayun mentioned she'd tasted it, Suyeon and Hasol each chimed in with a remark of their own—and Yeoncheong's destination was as good as decided.
"Really? Then it's the menu team for you."
Yeoncheong muttered that cooking was the only thing she'd ever done, but...
"If she's good at that, she'll pick this up in no time," came the curt dismissal.
The vice class president darted her a cautious, are you sure about this? look, but Yeoncheong just nodded and told her to write it down.
"...Fine. It'll work out somehow."
It wasn't as though she could never change teams, and with business still on the table, she had no desire to waste time over it.
"Anyway, about the penalty costume..."
Lightly rapping the teacher's desk to gather everyone's attention, Yeoncheong repeated the idea she and Suyeon had discussed back in the club room.
"Sounds pretty good."
"Could be fun."
"But why is it a penalty?"
The reactions were broadly positive—until one classmate's murmured question of why a penalty drew an answer from Suyeon.
"Because they'll have to end every sentence with 'woof' or 'meow' and act all cute on command. Think you can pull that off in front of your friends? Your seniors? Your juniors?"
The atmosphere shifted in an instant.
Some classmates shuddered at the mere thought.
The vice class president gave Yeoncheong a light poke.
"Is it set at two people?"
"No, we can decide that based on the situation."
Hoping to give the class time to think, Yeoncheong let the question hang for a moment, then leaned against the desk and looked out over her classmates.
"So—should we do it, or not?"
The class glanced around the quiet room and nodded.
Seeing row after row of nearly identical expressions, Yeoncheong couldn't help a small laugh.
When it comes down to it, everyone thinks exactly the same way.
Their eyes sparkled with interest. Written plainly across every face was the same thought: as long as it isn't me.
After school, Yeoncheong went looking for the student council room to submit the finally-completed plan for Class 2-1.
Contrary to her expectations of chaos and crowds at the busiest time of day, the student council room was perfectly still.
It looked not much different from the scene outside the window, where clouds drifted lazily across the sky.
Treading quieter without quite knowing why, Yeoncheong slipped inside—then tilted her head at the sight before her.
Huh? Seoha's here alone?
The first- and second-year vice presidents and the rest of the council were nowhere in sight; the wide classroom held Seoha and no one else.
And Seoha sat with her back perfectly straight against her chair, eyes closed as if in meditation.
Is everyone else out, then...
It was the most probable conclusion, prompted by the mountain of papers stacked on her desk—and her desk alone.
Yeoncheong drew closer, but Seoha gave no reaction at all.
Is she asleep?
Yeoncheong set the papers down at one corner of the desk and waved a hand in front of Seoha's eyes.
...She really is asleep.
Only after confirming there was truly no response could she be sure.
Silky black hair swayed gently in the breeze drifting through the cracked window, and flawless, blemish-free skin refused to lose its glow even in the shade of her face.
She's basically a doll.
She wondered why anyone would sleep in such an uncomfortable position, but the longer she watched, the more the words died in her throat.
For a heartbeat she considered playing a prank on her, then quickly shook her head. She was afraid of the retaliation if she got caught—and she wasn't nearly thoughtless enough to tease someone who was so obviously exhausted.
She just mouthed a silent fighting in her direction.
But just as Yeoncheong turned to leave, disaster struck.
A stroke of terrible luck: her pinky toe landed a direct hit on the desk leg.
"Hkk—!"
A strangled groan, barely suppressed—she knew full well her friend was sound asleep.
Dropping to one knee in an instant, Yeoncheong clapped a hand over her mouth. She strangled the sound down to almost nothing, but...
"......Yeoncheong? What are you doing over there?"
Red eyes were already gazing up at her, full of bewilderment.
The drowsy red eyes snapped open, and Seoha sprang out of her chair like a released spring.
She fetched an empty chair, sat Yeoncheong down in it, and lifted her leg onto her own knee.
"I'm fine. It doesn't hurt anymore."
Her skirt slid down along the raised leg. While a startled Yeoncheong grabbed at the fabric to cover her underwear, Seoha pulled off her sock without asking anyone's permission.
"Where are you hurt? Which toe?"
"Wait— hold on—"
Seoha prodded at the bare toes with her fingers.
"!!!"
Yeoncheong twisted violently away—and though she toppled right off the chair in the process, she managed to escape her friend's grip. In the moment Seoha reeled, blindsided by a reaction far more dramatic than anything she'd seen from her before, Yeoncheong snatched up her sock.
Scrambling it back on, she stared at Seoha with a face scarlet to the ears.
"Um... I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine. Really."
"...Sorry."
The very first thing she'd seen upon opening her eyes was Yeoncheong, hand clamped over her mouth, face contorted in pain. For all she knew, something could be seriously injured—her body had moved before her brain caught up.
Realizing she'd been more worked up than she'd thought, Seoha apologized—which only made Yeoncheong wave her hands in flustered denial.
"Why are you apologizing? I didn't hate it. It's just, that is..."
Scratching at her cheek, Yeoncheong squeezed her eyes shut.
"M-my feet might... smell."
"My feet might... smell?"
The corners of Seoha's mouth crept upward. A giggle began to bubble out of her.
"D-don't laugh! This is—this is a serious issue! Friend or not—"
Red as a ripe apple, Yeoncheong floundered helplessly.
"Ugh... uuugh... nngh..."
The laughter only died once she saw that Yeoncheong had completely short-circuited from embarrassment. Seoha patted her own knee invitingly.
"I'm hurt."
"Huh?"
Yeoncheong, finally rebooted, rolled her blue eyes and stammered.
"Comfort me."
Seoha gave her knee another light tap.
Even Yeoncheong couldn't miss what that meant.
"I-isn't that going too far? Someone else's lap is... it's kind of my last shred of pride, you know? Like something in me would just... collapse..."
Never once had Yeoncheong sat on anyone's lap—or had anyone sit on hers—and she hesitated.
But Seoha, through no small amount of experience, knew exactly how to crumble that hesitation.
"So the excuse earlier really was just an excuse."
"Wh-what?"
Seoha turned her gaze toward the window.
"So you really did hate being touched by me, after all. You don't feel that way about me, but I keep saying I like you and forcing myself on you—that's what put you off, isn't it?"
"No! How did you get there?"
Yeoncheong fidgeted in torment, raising and dropping her hands over and over.
Staring at the sunlight for so long, the corners of her eyes began to glisten with moisture. Seoha rubbed at that dampness, driving the point home.
"It's okay. You're too sweet to say it out loud, I get it. No need to keep pretending we're close."
"Stop. Stop it! Fine, I'll do it—happy now?"
Yeoncheong sucked in a deep breath, then carefully lowered herself onto Seoha's lap.
"There. Good now?"
As if sitting on an invisible chair, Yeoncheong kept every muscle in her legs tensed and shot her friend sidelong glances.
"No. You're supposed to sit properly."
Wrapping an arm around her waist from behind, Seoha pressed both hands against her lower stomach and broke her balance.
"Yap."
"Hyaah!"
Only then did Yeoncheong slump fully into Seoha's lap, her whole weight given over.
"You're—heavy. You're heavy."
"Nope. You're light. Light as a feather."
Those hands had no intention of letting go. Seoha buried her face against Yeoncheong's back, and for a long while, neither of them moved.
"Why were you here alone?"
"Some of them went to hound the classes that haven't turned in their plans yet. And some I just told not to come."
"Why?"
Apparently that wasn't explanation enough, Yeoncheong repeated the question.
"It's exam season. I told them to focus on studying. Keeping it to myself is easier on my nerves, anyway."
"And you don't need to study?"
"I'm fine without."
On the surface it sounded insufferably smug, yet somehow it didn't come across that way at all. It was a statement only Seoha could make—backed by a record.
All the while, Yeoncheong kept trying to wriggle free.
But once she realized there'd be no escape until Seoha's mood improved, she let out a small sigh and muttered,
"I'd appreciate it if you'd ease up on that kind of blackmail from now on."
"Oh, I see?"
Seoha lifted her head from where it had been pressed against her back.
"Obviously. I get called an idiot and a derp day in and day out—did you really think I wouldn't know that much?"
"Wasn't that the whole point? Your nickname is Derp Yeoncheong."
"Hey, you."
Just as Yeoncheong twisted around to snap at her, Seoha gave the hands resting on her lower stomach a firm squeeze.
"Hyih! Not—not that, quit it."
Catching her breath, Yeoncheong returned to what she'd been saying.
"Look, it's not that you're refusing what I ask of you. I just don't want you saying things like that. I know you don't mean it, but actually hearing it still stings, so..."
"Understood."
Seoha stole a glance at her, lips twitching.
"Would a kiss, perhaps..."
"What do you think?"
"Tch."
For a long while, Seoha simply held Yeoncheong snugly in her lap from behind.
"How long are you planning to keep me here?"
"Hmm... until the day I die."
"Don't. You say it so seriously it's actually kind of scary."
Seoha laughed lightly.
"Just a little longer. We haven't gotten to spend any time together lately—you've been so busy."
"Festival prep."
"That's exactly the problem."
Seoha's voice carried an uncharacteristic grumble.
"I thought festival prep would be an excuse to see you more, and it's been the complete opposite. I'm the one drowning in work."
Full council meetings, plan submissions—it wasn't that they never met, but between her mountains of duties, the time they spent together had thinned to a fraction of what it used to be.
"Caught in your own trap. Silly."
At Yeoncheong's giggle, Seoha's hands went to work.
Squeeeeeze.
"Hyiiiik!"
Yeoncheong flailed, drumming her hands against Seoha's arm, squirming—then went limp as a rag.
Only then, apparently satisfied, did Seoha release her melted friend.
"There. All better. Now go study hard for your midterms."
Having shooed her friend out the door, Seoha returned to her seat and savored the lingering warmth on her hands and thighs—the fragrance of the girl who had soaked it all in with her whole body.
"Not bad."
It hadn't gone according to plan, exactly—but the goal had been achieved. Seoha allowed herself a contented smile.