Soft and Squishy. The Precarious Edge of a Joke
“Ha... I'm seriously losing my mind.”
The words that slipped out with a sigh were, without a single trace of a lie, Yeoncheong's honest feelings.
If it had been Suyeon acting up on her own, she could probably have talked her way out of it somehow—the girl had more than her share of embarrassment hidden under all that teasing.
But for whatever reason, the one who'd brought the whole thing up was Hasol, and they were in the club room, where there was no one around to care. With the majority's opinion stacked on top of that, it was pure, unadulterated tyranny.
“Don't you want a tour of the new club room? You said you were curious.”
“I can do that anytime. It's not like you'll let me touch them whenever I want.”
“What about studying? Midterms are coming up.”
“Don't you know rest matters as much as studying? You should take a day off once in a while.”
Whatever Yeoncheong said, she got a crisp comeback right back.
“Isn't this sexual harassment?”
“We're both girls, and we're friends? What, you gonna report us, Yeoncheong?”
Even her boldest counterattack fizzled out the moment they played that card—she had nothing left to say.
Ha... I'm seriously losing my mind.
A thought so repeated she'd lost count of how many times it had come up now.
Resting her chin on her hand, Yeoncheong sized up the three friends gathered around her, Hasol front and center.
She really had picked the wrong day to get caught.
Being outnumbered was bad enough, but the fact that Hasol—the one who usually took her side most often—was leading the charge made it so much worse.
Not that she still understood why anyone would want to touch her chest in the first place.
But honestly...
Honestly, it's not like I can't do it for them...
She hid her inexplicably reddening cheeks behind the hand propped on her chin as she thought.
Teenagers bursting with youthful energy, all gathered in one place—she'd figured out long ago that an all-girls school was every bit as wild as an all-boys one.
She'd often witnessed very close friends groping each other's chests and smacking each other's rear ends, all under the banner of just messing around.
If girls could do that in an ordinary friendship, then what about the bond between Yeoncheong and her friends?
They had learned her greatest secret—that she used to be a boy—and embraced her for it. If anything, they were closer than close, never distant.
Just like her friends said. It wasn't as if her chest would wear out from being touched.
If it was these friends of all people, she could sacrifice herself once... just this once, for the sake of settling their curiosity.
The problem, though, was this:
There's no way this ends after just one time...
Just like a joke never stops at a single round, the friends in front of her would never be satisfied with once.
Just as Yeoncheong had once been too embarrassed to even sit on a friend's lap, and now settled onto their knees without a second thought—she knew all too well how her own barriers lowered as time went by, and it scared her.
Adapting quickly was clearly a strength. But the way she adapted fast even in these areas was frightening enough to her.
A short silence hung in the air as everyone waited for her answer.
Hasol had no way of knowing the full tangle of Yeoncheong's inner thoughts, but she could tell that this hesitation wasn't serious deliberation over a refusal—and she slipped a single slip of paper out from behind her phone case.
“...Fine. Then I'll use my Favor Pass here.”
“Wha!?”
How important could touching a chest possibly be—important enough to burn a hard-earned Favor Pass on it?
The appearance of the Favor Pass left Yeoncheong, who was already floundering, utterly cornered.
“Wait, seriously? You'd spend it on this?”
“Yeah. I'll use it here.”
Even when Yeoncheong asked if she meant it, Hasol only gave a slow, deliberate nod.
Her expression, which looked almost resolute at a glance, made it clear this was a decision she'd reached after real deliberation.
“What, is a Favor Pass not enough?”
“I... well...? I've never actually thought about it...”
Caught off guard by her friend's rare burst of momentum, Yeoncheong wilted into a crumpled mess.
Nayun, who'd been egging things on just because it looked fun, and Suyeon, who was only now starting to wonder why Hasol was going this far—both of the others were just as flustered.
So, would she say yes or not? Under the continued pressure, the question came crawling back out in a halting voice.
“Th-then I'll ask just one thing... Why on earth do you want to touch my chest so badly that you'd spend a Favor Pass on it?”
“My reason? Hmm...”
That question echoed exactly what the other two had been wondering, so everyone fell quiet and waited for Hasol's answer.
“I don't like it.”
“Huh?”
She flinched for a moment at the sudden swipe that opened her statement. Then Hasol calmly explained herself.
“I've figured it out since you started sitting on my lap lately. Your chest—this whole area. I can feel you quietly, deliberately dodging my hands.”
“D-did I...?”
So this was the power of being the one doing the talking.
It came from a friend who almost never lied, so Yeoncheong tilted her head and tried to recall her own behavior lately.
Watching that, Hasol swallowed a snicker where no one could see.
If the person herself wasn't sure either, then it was as good as half a victory already.
“See? Even you don't know. You're doing it unconsciously. If you genuinely hate being touched by other people, fine, I get it. But we've known each other well over a year now, and you keep dodging me—it feels like you're avoiding me specifically, and honestly, it kind of stings.”
“Ah... I-is, is that why.”
With a dash of genuine friendship layered on top of it all, Yeoncheong nodded along as if under a spell.
She couldn't quite follow the logic, but it sounded like something Hasol was saying for her sake (allegedly).
And if it weren't for a reason like that, Hasol wouldn't be the kind of friend who'd bring up such an embarrassing topic in the first place.
Meanwhile—
“Wow. She's insane.”
“Hasol really is a smooth talker, no question.”
“Right? She's the one who always mediates when the rest of us are at each other's throats.”
So that's how you play it, huh.
Built on a foundation of deep mutual trust, the friend's dazzling verbal performance had even the other two murmuring in admiration.
“Hasol, how did you even know? I had no idea she was like that.”
“Hm? Oh, I'm not.”
Hasol waved her hands at the friend's worshipful gaze.
“Yeoncheong adapts fast, just like she says. In reality she's probably not like that at all. I just figured this would be the most convincing angle. Though it sounds like she's convinced she really was doing it unconsciously.”
“Th-then what's the real reason...?”
Every word that had flowed out of her like a clear stream had been a lie.
To her momentarily stunned friends, the answer that came back was a smile bright as the sun itself.
“It's a joke. Nayun keeps bringing up chest talk whenever she teases me, so my eyes kept drifting that way... and I'm not exactly small myself, but at Yeoncheong's size? Who wouldn't want to touch them at least once?”
In that instant, Suyeon remembered.
How, during midterm season last year, this same Hasol had grinned while shoving that horrid Health Juice into her hands, calling it payment for study help—clearly watching her suffer (though the taste was the only terrible part; the effects were legit).
And also—
“O-okay. Fine.”
Completely won over by three-tenths of a tongue's worth of persuasion, Yeoncheong finally gave everyone what they'd been waiting for.
“If it's just... a quick touch... I'll allow it.”
“You're really not taking the Favor Pass back?”
The kind of mischievous stunt you should only pull after reading the room, even between close friends.
Even Hasol herself knew it was a prank she couldn't pull often. That was exactly why she'd planned to hand the Favor Pass over without a second thought—but since the person offering it was Yeoncheong, actually spending it proved harder than expected.
“'She accepted the Favor Pass and let me touch her chest.' Doesn't that sound like crossing a line you really, really shouldn't?”
Just as Yeoncheong said.
Once you laid the situation out, it was a pretty dangerous-sounding sentence.
What Hasol had settled on instead was: 'She granted permission of her own accord for me to touch her chest...'
Frankly it was six of one and half a dozen of the other, but she'd gotten what she wanted, so she left it at whatever framing made her own cheeks burn less.
The tour of the freshly redecorated club room had long since been forgotten.
In a space that wasn't even that large, her friends had crowded in around Yeoncheong like baby birds waiting to be fed.
As if she might offend them and change her mind.
At the sight of them waiting so obediently, the very person who'd granted permission kept silently washing her face with her hands, still wondering if this was really the right call.
“Whew... Go ahead. Do what you want.”
Having apparently finished steeling herself, Yeoncheong folded both hands neatly in her lap and squeezed her eyes shut.
Even with the long-awaited moment finally laid out before them, the friends couldn't easily reach out.
It takes two hands clapping to make a sound, as the saying goes.
What had started as a curiosity-driven joke had turned serious on her end, and the tension had spread to everyone else in turn.
Since it was Hasol who had dragged things this far, she swung her hands and mouth into exaggerated motion, trying to break the strangely charged atmosphere.
“Aaand—there.”
First, a light little poke with her index finger.
“Huh...”
She was the one with her eyes closed, but the unexpected touch startled her anyway—the hands resting in her lap flinched, one knee jerked up in reflex, then settled back down meekly.
When Hasol marveled at how the soft flesh yielded without a hint of resistance, the other friends reached out one by one after her.
“Wow... damn. You've really got something to brag about.”
“Ohh...”
“Mm. This feels nice.”
Squish, squish. Poke, poke.
Gently, carefully, so as not to hurt her, they kneaded the soft swell of her chest—
prodding at it from the sides, from above—
only the first touch had been hard. Curiosity, once it had climbed over the wall of embarrassment, revealed itself in hands that grew bolder by the moment.
“Hah... ngh...”
And each time, the hands in Yeoncheong's lap twitched and twitched again as a strange little moan slipped out of her.
“Yap. Yap.”
“There we go.”
The friends were supplying their own sound effects out loud, trying to lighten the mood—but with the recipient reacting like this, it was all completely in vain.
“Hey... can you maybe not make that sound?”
“You— you're the ones, ngh... who keep touching me, so of course sounds come out.”
“At least open your eyes. Keeping them closed just makes everything more sensitive, doesn't it?”
“D-does it...?”
Wondering if closing her eyes had been the mistake all along, Yeoncheong had at some point started watching her friends with her eyes open instead.
Which created a new problem: now she could see her friends pressed right up against her, hands on her chest.
Still, at least she could see where they were about to touch next, so it felt less strange than before.
“Hee, heehee... that tickles—”
She'd just started struggling to hold back the laughter bubbling up at the ticklish sensation—
when Nayun slid her hands underneath, cupping the underside of Yeoncheong's chest, and asked:
“Whoa... feel that weight. Even by girl standards these are big. Haven't they been a hassle since you changed?”
“Heehee... th-they have. My shoulders get stiff all the time. Once I found that out, I finally understood how much girls like Seobin go through.”
“Ah. Seobin definitely has it rough.”
Perhaps they were getting used to the feel of it all by now.
After smothering her escaping laughter and carrying on a sparse sort of girls'(?)-talk about chests for a good while, Yeoncheong—who had held herself rigidly upright the whole time—finally squirmed.
“Hey, guys? Nghh... how long is this going to go on?”
She opened her eyes, thinking surely it was about done—
but maybe the tickling had grown familiar, or maybe her chest was simply on the sensitive side.
“Nnnh...”
Faced with a sensation she'd never felt before, the strange little sounds had started leaking out of her again despite herself.
The contents of that racy book she'd read recently drifted into her mind, and with her body warming up bit by bit, she had a feeling that if this went on, something was about to happen that even friendship couldn't survive.
“...S-sorryy. I'm feeling weeeaard...”
Her breathing was growing ragged, her pronunciation starting to melt and drag—
whether the three of them knew the state she was in or not, they were utterly lost in Yeoncheong's chest.
“These are addictive. Is it because they've only existed for a year or so? The feel of them is something else.”
“Nooo wayy, nnnh... i'id nod lie thaad, you caa—”
The moment Yeoncheong was begging them to stop and her three friends were squabbling back—we got permission, let us have just a little longer—
one person, completely forgotten until now, flung the door open and burst in.
“Hey guys, sorry I'm late—...huh?”
Three sets of hands resting on Yeoncheong's chest. And the owner of said chest, face flushed, exhaling heated breaths.
She'd been on her way back from helping Chaerin, who'd run into a problem with student council work, and all she could think was: what on earth was she walking into?
Maybe she was dreaming.
With a just-in-case heart, Seoha closed the door.
Then flung it open again. Shut it with a bang. Flung it open. Shut it again.
No matter how many times she repeated it, the scene never changed, so she had no choice but to accept reality.
“You guys had fun without me? Again?”
Terse as ever about showing emotion, she pushed out her lower lip in a rare pout, her displeasure written all over her face.
Like kids caught sneaking a snack, the three of them scrambled to grab Yeoncheong's arms and legs before anyone else could move first.
“Yeoncheong, you know what this means, right?”
“Time to make it up to Seoha.”
“It's for everyone's happiness. Sorry.”
Having quickly read the room, Seoha started forward with slow, deliberate steps.
This wasn't what we agreed to. This isn't supposed to be happening. Yeoncheong, who'd thought it was finally over, snapped wide awake and thrashed against her friends' grip.
“No, wait! Just hear me out! My opinion— Nghyaaah!”
What followed was a sound somewhere between a scream and laughter, bursting out of the club room.
“Seriously. We are never doing that again...”
Leaving behind Yeoncheong, sulking in a corner as she muttered to herself—
the friends who'd quickly gone off to explore the renovated club room, along with Seoha, who had seen nothing of it until now, were deep in animated chatter.
“By the way, where'd you disappear to at lunch?”
“Didn't I mention it? Chaerin said something came up with student council business. I went to help her out a little.”
Even if she'd spent a year in the student council as first-year vice president, the duties that came with the title wouldn't have matched her old job. So what kind of trouble had Chaerin needed help with, they wondered.
Then Seoha, glancing sidelong at Yeoncheong as if to say it seemed like she'd been through a lot, parted her lips.
“About the Sports Festival operations. From what I saw, a detailed schedule should be coming out soon.”
The Sports Festival.
An event her friends—all eyes fixed solely on the midterms—had forgotten just as completely as Seoha had.