#challengingwords

"I just want to cuddle," Jun explains, voice low and soft as velvet. "I have schedules all week, so I won't see you for a while… please, baobei?"

"Shut up," you groan, picking up a throw pillow from between you and burying your face in it. Unfortunately, you realize a beat too late that you've cleared Jun's path to you. By the time you think to rectify the situation he already has his arms around your knees, chin propped atop them. His adoring gaze brings warmth to your cheeks, and you narrow your eyes at him. 

"Y/N," he sings, grinning, and you shove the pillow in his face only to be met by his laughter. He pulls it from your grasp, sitting up and placing it behind your head so that you're trapped between his arms. His breath fans across your lips as his laughter stops, and he gently uses the pillow as leverage to bring your face closer to his. With a serious gaze, Jun says,

"If it really bothers you, I'll stop. You know that, right?"

You swallow thickly, looking into your boyfriend's dark eyes. His effortless switch from playful to somber had you flustered, not to mention his heart-fluttering words. Although your boyfriend could occasionally be a bit of a child, he still respects your boundaries — and you love him all the more for it. 

You avert your eyes, getting more flustered by the second, and shrug. 

"I mean, it doesn't really bother me, it's just"—

You cut yourself off with a yelp as Junhui once again begins to poke around your ribcage, laughing gleefully as you squirm and swat at his hands through your own laughter. Then, in an instant, he lifts himself over the back of the couch, and you scramble up off the cushions to pursue him as he retreats. 

“Why am I such a coward?” You cry to the sky. The trees around you sway in response but whatever their answer is, it is lost to you. The park settles into the silence of night, and you slump into the bench. 

“Good to know some things never change.”

Your back straightens as your eyes go wide. If only a shooting star would blaze across the sky, then you could wish yourself away. Sadly, the stars twinkle at you from their fixed spots. “What? My random screaming?” You ask with a forced chuckle.

“It’s healthier to scream than to keep everything inside.” Jackson lowers himself onto the bench beside you, his knee inches towards yours. He tries to catch your eye, but you keep your focus on the sky. A shooting star could still appear.

“I suppose.” You dig at the grass with your toes.

“You’re not a coward.” The sincerity in his words chokes a laugh from your throat. “I mean that.” He bristles.

“I know you believe that.” You meet his eyes, “But it’s not true.”

“You’re the bravest person I know.” You shake your head, so he continues. “No matter what comes your way, you find a way through it and come out with a smile on the other side.”

“That’s not bravery. That’s perseverance. Everybody has that.”

He shakes his head. “Not everybody. A lot of people give up because it’s easier.”

Glancing away from him, you huff. “Stop trying to make me feel better about my cowardice. I am a coward and that’s that.”

“Why do you think you’re a coward?”

“Because I couldn’t kiss-” Your jaw snaps shut as you remember to whom you are talking. “Never mind.” You push yourself off the bench and dart down the path back to your apartment. Jackson is quick to follow, even when you tell him you are fine without an escort. He walks with you all the way to your door and blessedly remains silent as you mentally reprimand yourself.

When the deadbolt clicks, he speaks. “Not kissing someone doesn’t make you a coward.”

“Jackson…” You turn to face him, ready to tell him to drop the subject, but the words lodge in your throat when you see his face. His smile is sad, his eyes soft.

“Whoever you wanted to kiss is a lucky man, and he is the coward, not you.”

“It’s you.” You blurt before your brain can stop your mouth.

You two stare at one another, the silence growing thick. You place a hand on the door knob, ready to escape to the safety of your apartment and let the silence continue into perpetuity. Those will be the last words you ever speak to Jackson. You will let time wash the horror from this memory, and when you are old and shriveled you will be able to look back on this day without wanting to disappear.

“You wanted to kiss me?” His face glows in the light of his smile.

“Yes,” you stumble over the word. Your brain has given up. Your mouth is on its own. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time. If I’m honest, I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you. I promised myself I would do it last year. I wasted the whole year telling myself next time. Finally, I thought mistletoe would be a good excuse, and when I failed at that, I thought the New Year’s Eve party.” You rush through it all and at the end, stand gasping for breath, hand still on the door knob ready to bolt.

You knew it was hopeless. You were a prisoner of your small world and he was human. Knowing that didn’t stop your feelings. You were hopelessly in love with the man who owned your little world. 

Is something bothering you? you asked when he placed his head on the desk and sighned. You placed your hand on the glass that separated you.

 "Wow. I never noticed there was a figure inside," he exclaimed and picked up your little world and shook it. It began snowing.

"That’s awesome! After a year I discovered something new," he smiled. 

"Hi, I’m Myungjun. What is your name?" He stared at you so intensely, that under that glass something started to beat. 

"Hmm, not a talker, I see. Well, you are lucky I never shut up. I think I’ll call you Gyeoul, since you live inside a snow world," he said, "It's nice to meet you Gyeoul. How’s the weather?" he chuckled at his own joke.

You were glad to see his mood lightened. He shook your world one more time and watched the little snowflakes settle, then placed it on the desk again and left. 

                                            ************

"Hello Gyeoul. You look different." He was looking at you again. He picked up your world and proceeded to turn it and examine.

 "You were definitely in another place! More closer to the glass!" he said and if you could breathe you would’ve stopped. He called the man who brought you to him.

 "Hey Moonbin! When you bought the snowball, was the figure on the horse or was she standing near the glass?"

"There was a figure?" Moonbin asked.

 "Weird," mumbled Myungjun under his breath.

 I should be more careful, you decided. The next few days turned into a game of cat and mouse. 

                                    *********

"Ha! I knew you could move!" Myungjun exclaimed loudly and you stopped. You were caught. He was standing before you and looking at you with wide eyes. So you waved shyly. 

Myungjun yelled, "I'm going crazy!"

You shook your head, disagreeing with what he just said. No, you’re not, you thought. 

“I wasn’t meant to find this, was I?” 

Yes, you shouldn't know. It will not do you any good. 

"So what is your name, Gyeoul?" he asked and you gestured that you didn’t know. 

"What happens if I break the glass, hmm?" he said with a determined expression. 

You shook your head violently. 

Don't, please, it's my home. 

"Okay, in the end it was a gift," he calmed you down. "So what will we do?" 

Honestly? You didn't know. He wasn't meant to find you. You weren't meant to fall in love and grow a heart, which ached right now. You were made of glass, he was flesh and blood. 

"You could be my secret friend," he chuckled. You nodded in agreement and from that moment your friendship blossomed. He would talk to you about his music, friends and you listened, sometimes nodding or shaking your head in response. Everyday he sat down and talked to you and you were falling deeper in love everyday. 

                                        *********

One day, there was ruckus in the apartment. Some screaming, some laughter. So you peeked, and saw Myungjun and his friend were playing some game. One threw a shoe at the other, he smack it and the shoe pushed your world to the ground. You heard a crack of glass and, Myungjun scream. He carefully picked you up. A tiny thing made from glass, so fragile and cold. 

"Gyeoul!" Myungjun cried. You looked at his face without the glass barrier between you for the first time. 

"Is the figure okay?" someone asked . 

"No, they are cracked," he said breathlessly. There was a crack in your heart and you knew you wouldn't survive long without your world. So you smiled at him and took your first and last breath. 

"I'm sorry. I will buy you a new one," said Moonbin.

 "No! I don't want any other snowballs ever again," Myungjun replied coldly.

 He picked up pieces of the broken snowball, placed them in a trash can and left the room. 

                            ********

"MJ hyung? Are you here?" shouted Moonbin. After the snowball incident, MJ was sad and not his usual self. So they decided to act. 

"What do you want?" said Myungjun. 

"Here, a little present." Moonbin gave him the box. MJ unpacked the box and picked up a snowball. 

"I said no snowballs," he shoved it back inside the box.

 "Look carefully!" Moonbin pointed out. MJ sighed and picked it up again, taking another look at it.

"That is..," he gasped. 

The principal cleared his throat, hands clasped behind him. “As you know, Sawako-sensei had to take maternity leave, so Y/N-sensei is going to be replacing her until she’s ready to return. I expect you to treat them well.”

“Yes, sir!”

The principal patted your shoulder, wishing you good luck. You turned to face the students with a smile. “Hello, it’s nice to meet all of you.”

Hands shot into the air and you spent the next ten minutes answering a wide variety of questions before the room finally settled. Since this was your first day and you were going to be with them for a while, you decided to hand out short about me slips so you could learn more about your students. While they focused on this task, you quietly made rounds around the room, quietly laughing at some of the answers.

As your hands swept over the page of a brown-haired boy, you came to a dead stop, eyes widening as they landed on the boy’s wrist. Black numbers were inked into his creamy skin. They were familiar and you had memorized that same sequence of six because you had been staring at them for twenty-two years now.

Daichi paused his writing when he realized you weren’t moving. His eyes followed yours to his wrist and his brow furrowed. Why were you staring so intently at his soulnumbers? His eyes moved to your wrist, but the skin was covered by a thick watch.

“Sensei?” he questioned softly, brown eyes meeting yours.

“Huh?” You snapped out of your daze, rubbing the back of your neck with a sheepish smile. “Oh, sorry. Guess I zoned out!”

A couple students giggled at you and you quickly turned, making a beeline for your desk, trying to convince yourself that this was all just some bad dream induced by eating just before bed. How could your soulmate be a high school student? Granted, he wasn’t that much younger than you, but he was your student and it was wrong.

When class finally came to an end, you waited for the students to start filing out of the room before walking around to collect their bio sheets. Their next period was a free period, giving you time to collect your thoughts.

“Sensei?”

“Yes?” You turned around with a smile, which faltered when your eyes landed on the brown-haired boy that was causing you so much distress. You cleared your throat. “What can I do for you?”

Daichi shifted, rethinking his decision to confront you, but he just had to know if he was right. This was important to him. “Can I see your wrist?”

Your body tensed up. “Excuse me?”

His cheeks darkened, but he resolved to learn the answer. “You were staring at my soulnumbers… you have the same one, don’t you? You’re my soulmate.”

You chuckled nervously, waving him off. “That’s ridiculous -”

“Then prove it.” He demanded, his dark eyes shining with determination. “Show me your wrist… Y/N-sensei.”

Goosebumps rose across your skin when he spoke your name and you sighed in frustration, falling into the closest chair, taking your head between your hands. “This can not be happening…”

Daichi sat across from you, hesitantly reaching for your right arm. You didn’t pull away, allowing him to remove the thick band from your wrist, revealing the same six-digit sequence that was printed across his own skin. “My soulmate…” he breathed in disbelief, sliding his hand into your own.

You quickly jerked away, jumping up and approaching your desk as you declared, “This changes nothing.”

“But -”

“No,” you shook your head, meeting his eye with a hard stare. “You and I, we shouldn’t belong together. You’re my student, for christ’s sake.”

“Only temporarily.” He commented with a shrug. “But I understand.”

You released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Well, that was easier than you had been expecting. “Good. Now, you should -”

“That doesn’t mean I’m giving up on you, Y/N.” A sly smile came to his lips, eyes shimmering. “The second I graduate, I’ll be coming to take you out on a date, so make sure you don’t start seeing anyone, okay?”

Your heart fluttered at the declaration, mouth opening and closing as you tried to form a response. All you could do was watch the male leave the room. Something told you that your life was about to get a lot more complicated.

A groaned passed your lips as you fell into your chair, muttering under your breath. “Become a teacher, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. High schoolers are easy to deal with, they said. What a joke.”

Daichi stood outside the room with a smile, chewing on the corner of his lip as his hand rested over his racing heart. He had known you for less than a few hours and yet, he felt as if he had known you his entire life. He felt completely at ease in your presence, he craved being close to you, talking to you.

He brought his finger to rub across the numbers on his skin. “My beautiful soulmate…”

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The term “Ichi-go, Ichi-e” literally means “one time, one moment”. As explained in [this] article, it is meant to act as a reminder that we should treasure every moment because it will never recur again. I thought that was beautiful, so I decided to use that as the title for this set.

They claim the company should have given them a discount based on all the services they had done and end by asserting that they should receive a refund. When you politely let them know that discounts only apply to company designated cleaning packages and not consumer constructed ones, they release a string of curses. (You make a mental note to charge extra when you sell them their name back.)

The call ends with an abrupt click after they ensure you that they will never use the company’s services again. You allow yourself a single, imaginary tear at the loss of their business before picking up your coloring book, something to fill the time between calls.

“Hey?” You hear the gentle whisper and glance up. Ten, your cubicle buddy, leans on the wall between you two, mischief pulls his lips into a smirk. Ten is a nickname, but he refuses you his real name. A smart choice and one which supports your theory that he is from a magical family.

“What’s up?” You sigh, as you return to your coloring.

“What are you doing for lunch?”

“I was going to eat the leftovers that I brought.” You trace the outline of the complex geometric pattern and prepare to fill it in.

“We should go out to lunch.” The pattern remains blank as you stare up at Ten. The mischief has travelled across his face to carve wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and inclines you to decline the offer, but he is on another call before you can.

-

Ten chooses a coffee shop for lunch. A magical coffee shop, further supporting your theory.

You have heard of Witch’s Brew. Everyone raves about the coffee and gossips about the owner and founder. Minseok is a powerful enchanter, and a member of the Essem Family, one of the most influential families in the town and within magical circles. That he chose to open a coffee shop rather than joining the family business of accumulating power and gaining control over the Magical Council, the governing body of the magical community, has fueled many water cooler gossip sessions.

Despite the notoriety, you had yet to visit the shop, so when Ten suggested the place and offered to pay, you shrugged your shoulders and agreed. The menu daunts you as most coffee menus do. Too many options. You settle for a simple iced coffee with a shot of energy. Ten’s order is more complex, and the only part you understand is his request for a pump of pep. The request is surprising. He always seems to have an abundance of pep, but perhaps this is the secret to his success.

“Why the invite to lunch?” You ask as the two of you settle at a table in the back of the shop. You’ve only been working at the company for a few weeks, and while Ten has always been friendly, he’s never interacted with your outside of work.

“Because I heard a rumor, and I didn’t feel like gossiping with those catty bitches we work with.”

You smother a snort and opt for a smile instead as you reply. “But you’re willing to gossip with me?”

“Yes.”

The sincerity in his eyes keeps you from asking “why”. Your heart thumps hard against your chest, but you clear your throat, leaning forward to break the eye contact. Stupid heart, getting excited over nothing. You have a whole childhood of experiences which should have taught it that no matter how people treat you in the beginning, they all leave once they learn the truth about you.

“What’s this rumor then?” You mumble to your hands.

Ten leans forward, and his gaze catches yours, holding you in place. You both hold your positions over the table, your faces a breath apart. Excitement shines from him, and you wish he would laugh, if only to hear the sound. “I heard there’s a faerie working in our department.”

The spell breaks, thrusting you back. Your blood runs cold as your organs fail you. You’re quite certain your stomach is dissolving. You bark a laugh and hope Ten misinterprets the horror which has surely etched itself into your face.

“Why would a faerie be working in a customer service call center?” Does your voice sound higher than usual? Does Ten notice?

“According to the rumor, they’re collecting names in order to control the members.” His face brightens as he speaks, his fascination lacing his words. “It’s got the higher ups all flustered. If this got out to the customers, the business would go under.”

“But why would they do that? Magical enslavement is a Class One offense.” You probably shouldn’t be able to spout that off so quickly, at least you kept yourself from adding on the punishment. “I mean it’s hard to believe that anyone would be stupid enough to try that. Everyone is taught how to recognize magical enslavement in school. They’d never get away with it.” You need to stop talking before you dig an even bigger hole for yourself.

The coffee arrives before Ten can respond, and you sigh in relief. The barista delivering the coffee is different than the one who took your order. His name tag reads “Johnny”, and he seems to know Ten.

“For such excellent service, I think a tip is deserved.” Johnny extends his hand.

“Of course, here’s your tip.” Ten slaps his hand leaving nothing behind, but not according to Johnny.

“Oh my gosh! One thousand. Wow, I just-” Johnny places his empty hand to his heart, his eyes glistening with gratitude. “This is too much. I can’t accept this.”

“It’s not too much.” Ten waves aside his modesty. “I would have given you more, but I only grabbed one bag of money this morning.”

“Still, I can’t accept this.” Johnny shakes his head and holds his empty hand out to Ten.

Your gaze ping pongs between them during the conversation. The longer it continues, the more concerned you grow for their sanity. But the ridiculous banter did end the faerie conversation, and for that, you are grateful.

The rumor does put a dampener on your plans though. Quitting soon could raise suspicion and bring unwanted attention from the Inquisitorial Squad. Looks like you’ll be working in customer service longer than expected, unless you can get them to fire you. But as you reach for your coffee, you glimpse Ten laughing at some ridiculous thing Johnny said, and you think it might be nice to stay in the same place for a bit.

Sipping at the coffee, you feel the energy flow through you. Unlike most energy potions which leave your heart racing and knees bouncing, this one alleviates the exhaustion which has been living in the bags below your eyes since you entered adolescences. Your magic thrums in response. You feel it strengthening and know in this moment that a single glance from you would pull anyone under your power. You lower your head and breath through the surge. Magical enslavement is a Class One offense which would lead to the permanent binding of your powers and the rest of your days spent in a prison cell.

“Johnny.” The barista behind the counter interrupts the banter which has somehow ended up on a conversation about imaginary luxury vehicles the guys have. “Minseok needs your help in the brewing room.”

Johnny waves a hand in acknowledgement before adding. “Ten, my mom’s starting to think she did something to upset you, so maybe stop by for dinner sometime next week.” He pats him on the shoulder before striding across the shop and disappearing into a back room.

“You must come here often if you’re getting invites to dinner.” You take another sip, savoring the rich flavor of the coffee and the steady current of energy.

Ten snorts. “Not really. Minseok would get in trouble if I came too often.” He scratches at a non-existent piece of dirt on the table, his expression souring, but when he leans over and slips his lips over the straw to drink, the pep floods his body and his smile returns. “Johnny is my cousin. We grew up together along with all my other cousins. We’re all more like brothers than cousins, really.” Wistful memories brighten his smile.

Several questions swirl in your mind, chiefly “why would Minseok get in trouble” and “why had he been avoiding his aunt if he has such a good relationship with his cousins”. You check yourself before you ask. Curiosity is a poor excuse to pry into his life. Besides you’ll be gone soon enough, and it’s always safer for drifters like you to stay out of people’s business.

The other barista arrives before you can fill the growing silence with some inane question like “what’s your favorite color” and sets down two pieces of cake. You eye the cake and its chocolate ganache which glistens in the afternoon light filtering through the shop’s wall of window, but rather than take a bite, you say, “We didn’t order these.”

The barista pauses and after a glance at Ten, shrugs. “Minseok heard that Ten was on a date and only bought coffee.”

“This isn’t a date!” You assert, as Ten says, “I should bring dates more often if it means free cake.” You glare at him, as the barista slowly backs away. “This isn’t a date.” You reaffirm, but he’s too busy eating the cake to care. You continue to glare, and he continues to eat. With a sigh, you pick up the fork and start on your cake.

“So, what excuse do you have for free cake if you don’t come here that often?” You ask around a mouthful of cake.

“Minseok’s my cousin.”

The piece of cake finds its way down the wrong pipe as you inhale sharply. You start to cough your eyes watering as your body struggles to breath. Ten stands ready to come to your rescue, but you wave him off, as you clear the obstruction. He pushes your coffee towards you, and you take a large gulp, easing your throat and replenishing your energy,

“You’re an Essem.” You squeak out when you can speak. You had thought he came from a magical family, but never would you have guessed that a member of the Essem Family would be working at a customer service call center.

His face scrunches up. “Yes,” and after a pause, “but no.” You wait for him to continue, but he decides to pick at that non-existent piece of dirt again. After a moment, he sighs and sits back. “My dad is an Essem,” he holds out one hand. “And my mom is a siren,” he holds out the other. “And they had me.” He brings his hands together. “And while they love me, and my cousins love me, my grandpa is bastard who thinks that I’m an abomination and that my mom polluted the Essem bloodline, so he made up a lie that my mom seduced my dad and removed us from the family line.” He takes another sip of his coffee and smiles.

You blink, mouth agape, as everything he said filters through your mind. You had heard rumors about the patriarch of the Essem Family but had never given him a second thought. The less dealings you had with the Essems the better. Learning that they are headed by a purists solidifies that belief, yet here you are with Ten in an Essem coffee shop.

“Please don’t say you’re sorry.” He scolds as he finishes off his cake. “That’s boring and over used.”

“That makes sense why you’re so good at the job.”

His snort sends bits of chocolate flying across the table. He is quick to cover his mouth and even quicker to defend himself. “I never use my magic on customers.” But adds as an afterthought, “Well, almost never. Some customers are impossible and need a little bit of encouragement to stop being assholes.” Now, it’s your turn to smile.

The alarm on your phone goes off, reminding you both that those customers are waiting. Ten takes your coffee cups to the counter – drinks with magical add-ins must be consumed within the shop – and returns with a to-go box for you.

“This was fun.” Ten says as he holds the shop door open for you. “We should do this again.” You nod before fully realizing to what you’re agreeing.