Chapter Text
Admittedly, Yunjin’s gotten a bit sloppy.
She knows it. She’s not soft, but Coach Irene tells her at this rate, she’s primed for a beer belly and her mile time is slipping. Yunjin tells her she’ll worry about her mile time when someone else beats it.
Yunjin grits her teeth in irritation. It feels like everyone’s forgotten that no less than 3 months ago, she was the most talented injured player on the Barnette University Lady Knights' basketball team.
She was the biggest conversation in college basketball for her talents, and even more for her injury. Article after article detailing the head trauma that nearly ended her career. The physical therapy, the concerns over neurological impairments, the astounding resolution that after her initial hospitalization, she was perfectly fine? She deserves some slack.
That’s why it’s rather irritating to be speeding towards the advising office with no further instruction, the meeting shrouded in mystery as Ryujin tells her to simply “be there on time.” The secretary doesn't seem to be expecting anyone else (or perhaps recognizes Yunjin, a common occurrence) and motions for her to head down the hallway.
She reaches the Student Athlete office pushing her way past the door with her hands tucked into the pockets of her shorts.
"I dunno about you guys, but I think it's bullshit that the dining hall is only open until noon before campus opens up again. I mean, c'mon, a growing girl's gotta eat," she bellows, her complaint announcing her arrival.
She feels the mood fall the moment she makes it into the room.
The biggest red flag looms behind her, arms crossed over her chest: Coach Irene. If it wasn’t major, she would’ve sent one of the assistant coaches to be here. Yunjin's throat tightens at the thought of this meeting being so dire, the head coach herself is personally attending.
“What’s the big idea?” She asks hesitantly.
“Why don’t you take a seat, Yunjin?” The advisor chirps.
Yunjin seeks some sort of answer, noticing the team captain sitting in the seat next to the open chair meant for her. She pleads once more for some semblance of help.
“Coach?”
“You know what’s going on Yunjin,” the grit in Irene’s voice is enough to get Yunjin finally sinking into the chair, her stomach churning.
“I don’t, actually.”
“You’ve been put on academic probation for the upcoming fall semester.” The advisor says quickly, clearly more concerned with the agenda than the emotions behind this all. “Effective immediately.”
Yunjin's eye twitches, her grip on the chair loosening. All this mystery... just to tell her to work on her grades?
“Cool," she huffs, letting out a low breath. "I’ll do better. Now take me off that probation list.”
Coach Irene narrows her gaze, letting out an unimpressed snort that unsettles the room. Usually, Yunjin's commentary gets a much warmer response.
“This isn’t a warning, you’ve had enough of those. This is your official probation period. You’re being benched, Huh,” the coach snaps.
“You bench me and you lose your season,” Yunjin bites back quickly, the words spilling out without thought.
A grin from her coach. Fuck, Yunjin thinks. She’s about to hand her ass to her.
Yunjin would wince any other time, but she’s too far in to back down now. They lock in on each other's gazes.
“You think highly of your skill for someone who’s missed each layup they got this whole boot camp,” Irene points out.
“As if anyone is sinking three's as fast as I do.” Yunjin’s eyes dart to the team captain sitting hunched in the other chair. “I own that scoreboard.”
Ryujin’s steely gaze is fixed on the desk, pensive, mind elsewhere. The treacherous team captain doesn’t notice Yunjin’s dig at her expense.
It's a fucking ambush. The silence is enough to make Yunjin's blood boil, as if the other three are just waiting for her to say the right thing before they scale back their attack and lavish her with apologies.
Yunjin is the basketball team’s number one scorer— she's seen the numbers, she knows the stats. Even as a sophomore, Yunjin has the highest watched interview video on the BU Athlethic’s youtube channel. Her freshman year highlights reel just passed 2 million views. She has sponsors, she has connections. Games have a record high attendance, merch is being bought out faster than they can produce it. Haven't they heard the chants of the crowd, the echoing roars as she takes to the court?
Yunjin, Yunjin, Yunjin.
(She knows better than to play the victim card too, but Jesus, if they aren't making it her only option.)
“Does anyone here remember me cracking my skull open on that floor?” Yunjin can feel the collective wince of the room. Coach Irene and Ryujin were there in person to see the accident themselves. “Brains almost spilling out? No?”
“Yunjin...” It's the first thing Ryujin’s said since the meeting started. The captain’s voice is stern but gritted, like a warning and an apology all at once. She can’t even turn to face her. Coward. “They’re scrutinizing us after last semester.”
Last spring, the men’s team was exposed for what felt like a laundry list of NCAA infractions. Improper drug testing procedures, limited punishment for infractions, and among them, four of their roster being academically ineligible to play. Leave it to some dumbass frat boys to force the women to be held to higher standards.
Yunjin’s not against it, she knows they have to be the best and be held to the best standards, but fuck, it’s so much less valiant to repeat the mantra when it’s your ass on the line. Her attention shifts— it isn't like her to play the blame game, but the circumstances seem to call for it, and if she doesn't use her words, she's bound to do something stupid.
“Why did nobody tell me sooner? I could have gotten my act together.”
“We did.” Ryujin’s jaw shifts so hard Yunjin hears it click. “You were the one who decided to bomb your summer classes and send yourself even deeper into this mess.”
She swallows hard as she realizes what all those missed Canvas notifications piling up were. Her chair seems to swallow her whole, her body sinking deeper into it as a cold anxiety seeps into her.
“Someone could have helped me,” she snaps lowly, more to herself than the others. There's a stinging to her eyes that she blinks back once, twice, blank stare fixed on her worn sneakers.
Ryujin’s voice is a plea. “You need to help yourself, Yunjin.”
Always the voice of rationality, Coach Irene waves her hand, as if this is all a big waste of her time.
“The season doesn’t start until November and a month later, finals hit. The moment your grades get locked in during winter break, we reinstate you and you’ve only missed a few weeks.” Coach says easily. Yunjin feels her stomach drop, though the breakdown of their ideal timeline gives her some reassurance. “You keep your scholarship, you don't miss too much time for scouting. You’re making this harder than it has to be, kid.”
The mention of scouting brings a much needed reality check among them. Yunjin is not just any girl falling behind in a few classes. She's likely one of the biggest names to emerge from Barnette U athletics, a pipeline funneling her straight into the WNBA. She can't afford whatever piece of the season she's about to miss.
The advisor offers an optimistic tilt of her head. “You are a hardworking girl, Yunjin. You have time, resilience, and an entire brigade on your side.”
“I also have a half-rotted brain.” Yunjin feels her fists clench beneath her as she clicks her tongue. “That concussion did a number.”
“You can get an accommodation if you fill out the proper paperwork,” the advisor offers.
The fucking accommodations again, Yunjin tosses her head back with an eyeroll. Yunjin doesn't want an hours long interview detailing her flaws and shortcomings where people talk down to her and poke and prod her, she wants to be back to normal.
She wants her head to not hurt when the lights are on too high, she wants to be able to focus when more than two things are happening at once, she wants people to fucking cut her some slack and realize she's trying.
"This is bullshit." She can barely get it out through gritted teeth.
She can see the advisor calculating for what to do next, Coach Irene ready to lay down the law, Ryujin ready to spew her “you got this” sermon. Yunjin wants none of it. She wants a fast solution that puts her back on the court immediately and sets her life back on track.
She erupts from the chair with such force the thing nearly falls over. She's no sooner out the door before she hears Ryunjin’s footsteps follow hurriedly behind her, some gripe from their coach bellowing behind them.
"Let the kid throw a tantrum, Ryu," Coach calls out from behind her. “She’ll figure it out sooner or later.”
The late-August sun nauseates Yunjin as she spins on her heel to face the captain following her.
“You know, this timing of kicking me off the team is really fucking convenient with Coach Irene looking for your replacement,” Yunjin growls, finger jabbing into the other's chest.
“You’re acting like a child,” Ryujin swats her finger away in a smooth motion, forever the pinnacle of composure. Yunjin's skin crawls at how impossibly neutral Ryujin can act at even the most dire of times. “This has nothing to do with personal politics. Get your act together for the good of everyone.”
“I’m a 'child' who's coming for your crown, Captain,” Yunjin seethes. "You're sure there's nothing political about that?"
“Team captain is yours, once you’ve earned it.” A noncommittal shrug of broad shoulders, dark bangs swinging down into her eyes. Yunjin wants to hate how easily one would envy someone like Ryujin. "I'm the last person who wants to stand in your way."
Fuck her and her martyr facade. So gracious and honorable, it's forever Ryujin with the weight of the world on her shoulders and nothing but stoic composure. Setting an impossible example to follow yet doing nothing to lead anyone behind her.
Ryujin had, at one point, represented everything Yunjin wanted to become, a glimpse into a future that she so desperately wanted for herself. But the more Yunjin shined, it felt like the more her captain would try to dim her light.
She knows her chances of going professional are slim without that C on her jersey. Raw talent is one thing, but the captain sees a level to the game that the rest of the players don't get to access, the brain behind the movements of each chess piece on the board.
Yunjin loves basketball. She longs to be the one Coach Irene uses as an extension of herself, to be the face of their team, to get a chance to utilize her whole-hearted dedication to this sport and leave a legacy behind for not just herself, but the others who helped make this happen.
But none of this fucking works if she's kicked off for academic ineligibility.
Yunjin couldn't give two shits if she's acting like a child. To her, emotion means you care, and it's much more honorable to spill over and be honest than to bottle it up. She leaves the conversation where it lies and decides she'd rather be anywhere but there right now. Her legs move faster than her brain and take the familiar route through campus to her dorm.
Ryujin calls out to her in her same monotone voice, but Yunjin takes it as a victory that she's gotten under the captain's skin. Leave it to her to feel like she needs the last word in.
“You’re just going to storm off without giving me your gameplan?”
The redhead spins and shrugs.
“I guess that's my stupid ass bad habit, isn't it?”
Yunjin’s solution comes to her in the 6 minute walk it takes to get from the advising building to her dorm.
She’s a genius, she realizes, formulating the argument in her head. She’ll tug on her friends’ heartstrings, probably weasel her way back onto the scoreboard once the first assignments trickle in, it’ll be like nothing ever—
“I am not tutoring you.”
“Why not?” Yunjin's doing all she can to not take the shut-down personally, but jesus, Jimin didn't even let her get to the end of her pitch. “You’re the only people I see outside of practice anyways. All we do is study.”
Jimin sends a disapproving glare at the red-head. “That’s not even remotely true, but that’s also not my point. I’m struggling as-is to balance my internship and sorority stuff, and lord knows how classes are gonna play into it. I love you Yunjin, but I won’t have the mental energy to help you out.”
She groans and turns her pleas to the second girl splayed out on the bed across from her. “Zuha-”
“Even if I wanted to help, my hands are pretty tied, Yunjin. You know how hard it hit my family when the boys got caught,” Kazuha frowns apologetically.
Yunjin’s lips press into a hard line. The Nakamura family had been hit by a freight train of bad luck. Kazuha’s brothers had both been caught in the cheating scandal from the men’s basketball team last year. With Zuha attending the same school, their family truly could not handle the added pressure of her doing anything remotely suspicious.
Yunjin's sigh is an admittance of understanding.
Kazuha gets up to pace around her half of the room. Jimin jumps up from where she sits, as if she’s been hit by something.
“Petition to get the summer grades knocked off,” Jimin says quickly.
“That means she only has to score super mid grades to fix her GPA.” Kazuha’s chin wrinkles in surprise. “That’s a really good loophole, actually. Good thinking, Jimin.”
A mock curtsey from their favorite blonde future executive. "I live to problem solve."
Yunjin’s sold, feet slipping once more into her sneakers. She blows a kiss on the tips of her bunched fingers at her best friends, focusing an extra one at the girl in question.
“Jimin, you’re gonna be a fortune 500 top bitch some day.”
Jimin smiles and shoos Yunjin out, playing with Kazuha's framed picture of the three of them from high school graduation.
“You’ll be the first person I ban from my award ceremony,” she teases, just before Yunjin slips through the door.
“And you have medical documentation?” The woman at the front desk asks.
“I do,” Yunjin nods eagerly. She rocks her weight back and forth from ball to heel, grabbing onto the counter for support.
“You just need to write a one-page paper about how your disability has affected your academic life.” The lady’s round features and comforting voice instantly calm Yunjin. The fact that she's also setting Jimin’s plan into fruition means she's got everything going for her so far. “No longer than one page.”
Yunjin beams. She’s being asked to not write more than a page? Good fucking start.
“How soon do people hear back on decisions?” Yunjin knows there's a little too much enthusiasm in her voice, the way she's staring a little too intensely as the woman matches up the info on her student ID to pull up her profile.
“By the start of the new month, usually. If you submit it by the end of today, they’ll remove your grades by the weekend.”
Yunjin does the math. If she hauls ass and petitions to get the grades removed literally today, she can be back on the court by next month, October by the latest. Either way, nearly a whole two months earlier than what Coach Irene quoted.
“You’re a lifesaver.” Yunjin hopes the sincerity in her voice comes through loud and clear.
“Please, I’m just happy I can help.” She beams broadly, handing Yunjin back her student ID. Her warm eyes seem to lock in on Yunjin’s features, calculating, pinning her, recognizing her. Yunjin knows the look far too well. “You’re Dr. Huh’s—”
“That’s me.” She grins. People knowing who she is somehow never gets old.
“You play soccer still?”
“Basketball.” Yunjin doesn't mind correcting people. It happens more often with people who don't follow sports, but she's glad there's a name for herself out there nonetheless. “A lot of people mix them up.”
“On scholarship?”
“Full ride.” A click against her teeth to punctuate her pride behind her effort.
“And you’re a senior?”
“Sophomore,” Yunjin corrects. She's really enjoying this back and forth, whatever it may be. She adds a note with a feeling of satisfaction, puffing her chest. “Youngest starter on the team.”
And then the woman's smile fades, and Yunjin feels her balloon pop.
“Have you spoken with a financial aid advisor?”
“I’m not sure how that’d help,” Yunjin replies, half questioning the rationale behind the inquiry. Admittedly, part of her wants to keep the box closed, to keep the worms all tucked neatly inside the can. God forbid she get it that easy, right?
“I believe to be eligible to keep playing, you have to get a minimum of 60 credits by the end of your second year.” Her voice is softer now, forming an apology. Yunjin wants to stop her before she can start.
“Where’s this going?”
“I’m sorry Yunjin, just peeking at your transcript, because you only took 12 credits a semester—”
“Full time,” she interjects. It's common knowledge that student athletes take a lighter course load to compensate for their busier schedules, making up for the two extra classes over the—
Fuck. The summer semester.
“Yes," the woman nods, following the train of thought Yunjin just took up, "which still counts as full time, but you just don’t have enough. They make this rule so people don’t stay playing in college for years and years.”
“Can I-”
Her face tells her all there is to know. Yunjin won’t be able to play until she meets the necessary credits. She won’t catch up until she’s a junior, which means she'll already have lost a year of play time. That is, if she manages to earn her stay at Barnette University at all.
She’s fucking sick of everyone telling her the exact opposite of what she wants to hear this week.
“You can try the Tutoring Center. They have tons of people ready to help there.”
Her tone of empathy isn’t lost on Yunjin. She grits her teeth, frustration mounting as she hits another dead end.
“I need more than just a tutor.”
“I’m wishing you the best of luck, Yunjin,” she offers, and somehow, it's a more meaningful validation from a near-stranger than half the interactions she's had that whole day. “There’s a girl there who works wonders. I can give you her name if you’d like.”
“That’s okay.” Yunjin bites back against the bitterness in the back of her throat. She tucks her ID into her wallet and waves the woman off. “I appreciate it though.”
The team group chat is full of equal bullshit.
Yunjin doesn’t broach the topic of her suspension, simply posting the question of who would be willing to be her study buddy this semester, and is met with an astounding lack of volunteers.
lady knights 🏀
[yj:] whats up y’all i’m lowkey fckkeddd can i get a tutor in the chat
There’s a few complaints about shitty schedules, a non-committal question of what times worked for the groups, bitching and moaning about majors... but no outright volunteers. It’s nothing new, considering the team’s usual was simply to study as a group every night after dinner, but it was often a silent affair, ending in a goofy competition of what group could annoy the other across the library more. It was the start of a long list of bad habits Yunjin fell into post-high school, ending with her now benched until further notice.
She feels a pang in her chest that everyone just sort of lets the question float, and even more resentment grows as Ryujin (who had been replying at lightning speed) suddenly went silent despite knowing the severity of the situation.
Yunjin decides she’s not in the mood to join them for group dinner. Too many layers of precisely why the fuck she’ll be butthurt. She snatches a to-go meal from the student store and makes it a point to work herself raw in the gym over the next few hours.
The gym is quiet, considering classes start next week and most people are just barely getting moved in. She likes the campus gym, and thinks to herself that she should come to this one more often instead of the private student athlete facilities they train at. She should come more often— the sting hits her. She’ll have plenty of free time while she’s benched.
Yunjin sighs. Her whole life revolves around basketball. Many figured she was born a prodigy, but the truth was that she didn’t even get good until she moved to the US in elementary school. She played every sport imaginable and basketball was not the one people assumed she’d stick to long term, but the reality was that Yunjin found it the most worthwhile. All her efforts to practice would pay off immediately, all her new techniques and plays she’d learn were so easily implemented.
And the team. The dependence on a team was most intense in basketball. It’s become Yunjin’s sole purpose since getting into college. All the effort she put into the high GPA in high school had burned her out. School felt like a means to get exposure, college the only viable way to go pro, and it had clearly shown in how little seriousness Yunjin had taken her grades now. She didn’t think it’d take this long for her to rebuild motivation, nor did she think it’d be this quick for her newly formed bad habits to catch up to her.
After her workout, her wobbly legs take her back to her dorm. BU feels, truly and genuinely, like home, and she bites on her tongue and curses herself at the thought of putting her future here in jeopardy.
Her friends get back from dinner while she’s in the shower. Even though Jimin lives in the sorority house, she’s at Kazuha and Yunjin’s dorm more often than not.
She swallows down hard. Finally having her own place and being one of the most recognized athletes on campus. That had probably also been a losing combination in the whole process of her tanking freshman year grades.
Jimin’s just as pissed that her plan didn’t work as she is heartbroken for Yunjin. Kazuha’s thrown out a couple of half-alternatives so far, each of which she shoots down before he even finishes his sentence. She rubs at her chin, giving Yunjin her most sympathetic look.
“What’s the issue with getting a tutor? They’re free at the tutoring center and they cover like, pretty much every topic imaginable.”
“There isn’t, I guess.” Yunjin shouldn’t talk with her mouth full, yes, but she’s fucking hungry, and this burrito smells so good after coming out of the microwave it’s like her brain goes numb. She shrugs. “I just don’t want to be crammed in there for hours at a time. It needs to be broken up or else I can’t stay focused.”
“They only let you work in hour intervals,” Jimin interjects, having needed to make use of the tutors for a particularly grueling freshman calculus class. “A maximum of twice a week.”
“How many classes do you need to catch up?” She quickly pivots, realizing the limitations to each proposed solution.
“I think at least 5. I might try to take 6.” Yunjin lets out a low breath, hearing the uphill battle leaving her lips.
“Just find a personal tutor online!” Kazuha cuts in, sensing the turn of the room’s energy. “People do that kind of stuff for relatively cheap.”
Yunjin polishes off the last of her burrito (the only thing to bring her happiness on this fuck-all of a day) and sighs as she falls back onto her bed, arms splayed out. “The money isn’t the issue.”
“Then what is?”
“I need someone who’s going to give a shit about what we’re doing. I can’t be just a payload to them because there’s a whole fucking lot riding on this for me.”
“Your dad wouldn’t mind paying for it,” Jimin offers gently.
It should serve to calm Yunjin, but she’s too stressed thinking about her next step to let herself breathe.
“I just said money isn’t the issue,” she bites back, instantly regretting the tone she uses. She clamps her eyes shut into a wince, willing her body to just try and let go. A sigh escapes her. “I have to basically nail two semester’s worth of information with a brain built like Swiss cheese. I can’t just have someone cancelling sessions if they’re not into it or ditching me halfway through. My whole life is riding on this. I need someone with skin in the game.”
She opens her eyes to find both Jimin and Zuha staring at her with empathetic, almost pitying gazes.
Kazuha chews her bottom lip. “I don’t envy you.”
“That’s a first for you, isn’t it?” Yunjin grins. The dance major rolls her eyes and throws one of her many decorative pillows across the room at her.
“It’s a first for me if I did envy you,” she quips back, matching smile to the sparkle in her eyes.
Kazuha’s always talked her down to size, hyped her up at all the right times but kept her humble just as well. Jimin beams happily at the change of energy. Yunjin’s just grateful to have people like them in her life.
Jimin lifts off the bed and reaches for her shoes. Kazuha follows, and though they hadn’t mentioned any other plans for the day, Yunjin figures it’s their polite way of not rubbing whatever pre-semester fun they’re about to have in Yunjin’s face, like salt into her wound.
“You’ve had a long day. You should sleep,” Zuha tells her softly, turning the light above the bathroom door off.
Jimin offers her a smile of encouragement, peeking over her shoulder as her and Kazuha head out the door. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll scheme a master plan in the morning.”
She knows that too. Yunjin, as impulsive as she may be, always has some semblance of a plan, even if she’s making it up as she goes along. Part of her rigidity is to always know her next step. Maybe it will come to her after she’s mulled it over, but for now, she’s fried. It’s been a hard enough day as is. She lets her mind focus on the tired muscles in her and lulls off to sleep in moments. Hopefully something good comes out of this week.
Hopefully.
Yunjin’s not sure if the other girls on her team know yet about her suspension, but if they do, they sure as hell aren’t letting on for their morning weightlifting practice.
It’s a sacred time anyways, no overthinking allowed before 8AM, just a couple of girls with a love for one sport and their collective vision to improve their skills at it. Ryujin’s nowhere to be found and Assistant Coach Wendy shoots weary glances at Yunjin between barking out exercise plans for each of them, leading her to think something’s coming. Yunjin adds an extra 15 lbs to everything Wendy throws her way just to prove a point. Even Minjeong, the notoriously competitive senior who hates complimenting the underclassmen, gives Yunjin a nod of approval for her efforts.
Ryujin, as captain, might be their leader, but Yunjin is their star. It’s no secret.
Yunjin gives a bum excuse as to why she wasn’t at dinner last night and they let it slide. She can’t think of anywhere where she feels more at home than with the team. She doesn’t mention anything and for a brief moment, it almost feels like she’s back to normal. Like everything is going to be alright. She’s there, at the asscrack of dawn training her life away, without a single complaint to express. That’s gotta be worth something, right?
Yunjin makes the elevator ascent to her floor on her own. She’s trying to ignore the gnawing issue at hand, the very fabric of her essence being ripped apart before her very eyes, and the very real lack of anything reassuring her this’ll end well. Everyone seems to want to be passing her issues off to the next person, it’s not their job, or worse, just flat out not their problem.
She allows herself a minute of hot water to scrub off the grime from their weight training before she turns the dial to the opposite direction. She’s not exactly fond of the whole cold shower thing, but it’s one of the few tricks she’s got up her sleeve to keep her feeling normal since she’s left high school. Everything has changed so fucking fast and it seems like everyone was able to cope except for her. Factor in a head injury that everyone loves to leave out despite its very real grasp on Yunjin’s well-being, and it’s a small bag of tricks she’s left with to deal with her emotions. In the long run, if a cold shower is a 10 minute reprieve where she feels like she can think clearly for once, she’ll take it.
Yunjin knows it’s her problem. Nobody else held her hostage and forced her to let her grades slip, to get distracted. She’s not ignorant of the reality of the situation. She’s just fully stumped as to what she can do to claw her way out. So far, it feels like pretty much nothing has panned out, and her circumstances are bleak without a solution making itself clear.
She presses her forehead to the cool tile, trying to exhale sharply enough to keep the water from getting into her nose. Man, fuck sophomore year.
Fuck the NCAA, fuck these stupid classes, fuck the boy’s team for ruining everything for the much harder working, much more talented women’s team. Fuck Irene for leaving her out to dry and fuck Ryujin for pretending to care but doing absolutely nothing to help Yunjin out besides condescend to her.
A mini-fuck to her team for not putting themselves out there to really help, though she appreciates them treating her normally to some extent, and another mini-fuck every single person who has so unhelpfully tried to direct her to some bullshit student service, probably run by an overpaid director and an over-worked manager with criminally under-payed student workers.
She punches against the wall so hard she knocks the shampoo bottles off their shelf. A wince— lastly, fuck her stupid brain and pure lack of impulse control. She recoils and lets her hand stop pulsing as she holds it beneath the frigid water. Even her quiet time in the shower feels useless.
She towels off and changes into a BU longsleeve and a pair of shorts. Kazuha’s off somewhere getting trained for her internship and she’s pretty sure Jimin’s not even awake yet, so that leaves her with an empty day and nothing to do. She wants to go hang out with the team but knows whatever teammate she hits up has a 50/50 chance to invite Ryujin, and she’s pretty sure she doesn’t want that to be the tone she sets for the rest of her day.
She could do something productive, like do drop-in hours at the advising center to see what they think about her schedule. She could go meet with her advisor to see if there’s any other options. Maybe try re-negotiating with Coach Irene. Try to undermine her by buttering up Coach Wendy. Check if she’s got any syllabi yet or if she can pick up her textbooks before the first week rush. Visit the School of Law building to see if she can sue her way out of this, even.
Or she could swipe through Tinder. Maybe she’ll find a tutor there?
She falls back onto her bed, phone in hand, and tells herself it’ll only be 20 minutes, and that’s that. It’s like an interview. Yunjin’s doing herself a favor. She’s got a shit ton of matches, and tells herself it’s an afternoon of interviews. She channels her inner executive and gets to work.
[yunjin]: hiiiii idk how else to make this not sound cheesy as fuck but you have to be the most beautiful girl on this app
Copy paste. Paste. Paste. Paste...
Another 20 minutes. This one girl is super nice and would make an awesome tutor. Yunjin has to lay the groundwork before asking that though.
[yunjin]: lmaoo u think i’m pretty cute for a jock? what’s that supposed to mean 😋
Another 20 minutes. This other girl goes to a different school so it’s important to know what her schedule is like.
[yunjin]: how cheesy would u think i am if i ask what ur plans are this weekend
She’s investing in her future. Another 20.
[yunjin]: yeah that’s me, i can send u a link to my highlight reel if u want. careful tho, i’m hella sweaty in it
She can hear Jimin’s voice, perfect and brilliant Jimin, in the back of her head. Are you sure this isn’t just another ill-excused distraction? This looks a whole lot like an ill-excused distraction to me … God, what she wouldn’t give for Jimin to be even remotely free enough to do this shit for her. She’d be a terrible tutor but at the very least she’d have a solution, a viable solution and a gameplan for her to follow to a T.
Yunjin growls and drops her phone on her chest. She knows what Jimin is gonna tell her to do next. She’s wasted an hour on Tinder and is no closer to getting back on track. She groans as loudly as she can, knowing the dorms are half empty for just another day until move-in, and fishes for her laptop out from under her bed.
She signs up for a bullshit time slot at the tutoring center without checking her schedule. She just wants it done and wants it off her mind. The reply is some automated hogwash about check-in’s and availabilities, touting their top rated facilities. Yunjin snorts. Everything is “top-rated” at the university, it feels like, even the shitty stuff. It’s started to lose its meaning. That’s what Yunjin likes about her team, and admittedly, about Irene. She pushes them to a standard that surpasses the low standard for excellence.
Anyone can say they’re the best. It takes guts to prove it.
Yunjin’s got guts. She’s gut central.
She’s gonna open her syllabi and get started on the assignments. See when her instructor’s office hours are. See if there’s any study sessions hosted by a TA.
She bites down and clenches her teeth. Her bookmarks are the first battlefield she yields to. Yelp seems more interesting. She’ll log into Canvas next and peep her homework. After Yelp.
She'll even search for things that'll benefit her. Proactive Yunjin? More likely than you'd think.
essay-writing services
homework completion
website that does my homework
can you still get kicked out of college for using ChatGPT
That voice rings out loud and clear through her mind. What happens when you’re done with this semester and haven't got the slightest idea what they're talking about in your upper divisions? I'm all for innovation, but how can you innovate without the basics? She wants to scream at a person who isn't even there. Leave it to Jimin to somehow be her voice of reason despite being god knows where else. Yunjin makes a mental note to call her soon and rolls her eyes, plugging in "BU tutoring" and seeing what comes up.
Number one: BU Tutoring Center. She's pretty sure business owners pay off the websites that write about them, it only makes sense, but she clicks anyways to see what the reviews are.
the BUTC saved me. group tutoring with Sakura solved all my organic chemistry conundrums. s/o to the awesome team!
hit or miss with the tutors. some really good ones some really snippy ones. didn't really seem all that interested in helping. try to request Chaewon or Lia if you can
I hope somehow these tutors suck in class because I'm 100% certain they can graduate early with how smart they are. Hopefully I get to work with Sakura for the rest of the 2 years I've got here!
Felix was aggressive and didn't know what he was doing in any of the subjects I brought to him. Should be fired. I'm usually not the complaining type but he truly was no help. Luckily, Chaewon turned my grades around in 1 session. She takes her job very seriously and is incredibly smart. Hard to believe she's not a professor!
Chaewon is just the absolute best!!!!!
Yunjin's interest is piqued. One shout out is a compliment, two is a coincidence, and three is a pattern. She clicks further onto the BUTC website, exploring more than she probably should have when she signed up for a session a bit ago. She shrugs it off. Things will always work themselves out.
She finds a link she’s practically giddy for. Meet the team.
Sakura is a familiar face and she knows that will work to her favor. Everyone else is either an upperclassman or a graduate student. She doesn’t recognize anyone else, something she’s not exactly happy about, but her eyes lock in on one specific profile.
It's the picture of Chaewon that jogs some repressed memory for Yunjin. She snorts at the very clearly forced smile, out of place sandwiched between the beaming grin of Sakura and the absolutely glowing radiance of Lia. All kinds of students come to BU internationally, Yunjin knows that much, but she has a feeling she should know more about why this Chaewon girl feels so familiar. She reads on.
“Chaewon is a Political Science major with a minor in International Affairs. She was honored to join the team as a freshman working scheduling and has since become the youngest ever student tutor at the TC. Her passion for her work is palpable and has resulted in several notable awards and distinguished recognitions. If she's not at work, she's studying in the library, or spending time with her friends. Chaewon specializes in Political Science, History, English, and International Studies.”
Ignoring the pressing sense of deja vu, she feels an aggressive pull, as if Jimin herself were there shoving her head into the laptop screen. But she's caught up now looking further and further into the rabbit hole, trying to figure out where this girl is from. She's not sure how much time will pass (or perhaps already has passed) through her creepy stalking, but it comes to her like a spark taking to gasoline.
So far, the entire Tutoring Center thing has been a thorn in her side.
So she figures— why not try to do all the Tutoring Center stuff, without the Tutoring Center?
Yunjin's really never taken the library this seriously before. If anything, this is her first time higher than the second floor, considering the upper levels are expressly dedicated to silent floors.
“Do I know you?”
She finds it really hard to explain that somehow, despite not following her, Yunjin recognized the background of the recently posted instagram story she had uploaded solely based on the wallpaper. Yunjin has been slowly working her way through the study nooks on every floor of the library in the wild crapshoot chance that she may somehow run into her. By what could quite possibly be her biggest lucky break in her whole life, there she is, Chaewon in the flesh, in the library before school has officially even started.
She figures this would not be the start she wants. She's a little too awe-struck with the fact that she actually fucking found her to come up with a better excuse, so she just avoids the question entirely.
“Huh Yunjin.” She holds her hand out as non-menacingly as she can manage, but god she’s fucking excited, and very little can disguise that in her voice. “You’re the top rated tutor at the tutoring center. Honors college, dean’s list, whole ten yards.”
“That’s me.” Chaewon eyes Yunjin’s hand, a flicker of acknowledgement before she returns her gaze to the book in front of her. Her voice is painfully disinterested. “I’m busy right now. You can schedule a session online.”
Yunjin takes the rejection in stride, a pace closer to the table. She lets her voice drop in a hope to indicate her more serious tone.
“I need your help.”
“Online scheduling.” The girl doesn’t even bother to look up. “All you need is your student ID number.”
“I need a long term tutor. I fucked up my last semester and I’m gonna need some big guns help to get my GPA back on track. It’s intensive but I’ll pay whatever you need.” Desperation has never been a tone Yunjin takes up readily, but she’s truly at the end of her rope, and she’s rather known for how shameless her pleas can get. She slips into the empty chair next to Chaewon and leans in, head ducking to try and meet the girl’s gaze. “Can you please just hear me out?”
This proves to be too close for Chaewon’s comfort. She snarls and presses flat back against her own chair, back arching and voice caustic with teeth bared.
“Will you please get the fuck out of my face?”
It clicks. Yunjin recognizes the high voice, the short hair, the round eyes.
She holds her hands up to show she’s no threat and leans back, willing the memories to return to her.
“You were on the paper, the same week we won our championship game.” she finally manages, the pieces falling into place. She feels her eyes go wide as she remembers just how cut-throat the competition was to get to top of the dean’s list. “That dean’s recognition award. You’re smart as fuck.”
Yunjin briefly remembers catching glimpses of Chaewon, a handful of times in the last year they had shared at BU. The chances of crossing paths at such a massive school were slim but not zero. She never paid much mind to the girl, her dark gaze often in a book as she power-walked past Yunjin's basketball team in the halls. She’s not sure they ever shared any classes, or even any mutual friends. She fucking wishes Chaewon would’ve just recognized her by now she’d have some sort of connection to her, some sense of kinship Yunjin could try to play on.
Instead she receives a guarded glare, tinged with hostility, in return.
“We go to school together. Somehow,” Chaewon drawls, punctuating her disbelief with a snort.
Yunjin knows it’s a dig, but she can’t help but feel a puff of her chest at the pride of her skills. “Basketball scholarship.”
“I know.” The grit of her teeth feels like metal sheets scraping together. Yunjin chews on her cheek as she finds herself fighting a losing battle with the increasingly annoyed girl. “Can I help you? I have this room rented out for another half hour.”
“You can help me,” Yunjin hums excitedly, leaning forwards once more but making sure to leave a bubble of space between them. “That’s the issue. I can’t play because I’m on probation.”
Chaewon’s eyes roll. “That happens when you show up to class drunk.”
“But that’s where you come in,” she ignores the comment and plows on. She’s building too much momentum now to stop, lose her steam, and lose her nerve. “I need brains like yours to save my ass. I can’t get scouted if I’m glued to the bench all semester.”
“I don’t do private tutoring.” Chaewon’s lost interest in looking at her and starts scribbling something into her notebook. “Try the tutoring center.”
“Don’t you work at the tutoring center?” Yunjin questions, ready to vomit if one more person brings the stupid thing up.
“Which is exactly why I don’t have time for you to be interrupting me.” She flashes a perfect customer service grin before her face falls completely flat, irritation written clear across her features. “Schedule your appointment, and the next available tutor will help you out. I don’t want to repeat myself a third time.”
Yunjin’s never been one to back down from a challenge, but she knows she’s toeing a dangerous line.
“You’d be doing me a massive favor,” she presses on. “I have a lot of pull around here.”
Yunjin has to keep herself from wincing. She hates sounding like a douche, but Chaewon’s not budging. She’s exhausted pretty much all other avenues. There’s a beat as Chaewon eyes finally drag up to meet hers once more, a glare so electrifying, Yunjin feels her toes curl.
“Off the record, not as a delegate of the tutoring center,” Chaewon murmurs softly, folding her hands over the desk as she leans in to make her point. “You’re the last fucking person I want to be associated with. Now go away.”
“I am a great friend,” Yunjin blurts. It’s a hail mary if she knows one. The words come out clunky and choppy but she’s truly, undeniably, desperate. “I will owe you. Owe you a lot. A big one.”
Chaewon pauses, gaze returning to her book. “What’s your major?”
“Undeclared,” Yunjin immediately responds, hoping this is her in. Maybe that little promise of friendship was all it took, the premise of connection—
“No.” Chaewon doesn’t even let her finish. “I also most definitely do not need new friends.”
“We don’t have to be friends,” Yunjin tries faintly, feeling the pit of her stomach sink lower than ever.
“Oh my god, are you dense?” The raise in the other girl’s voice indicates she’s reached her limit. She drawls out the vowels in her words, the hostility coming out as a drawn out groan. “I don’t want to fucking help you. I’m asking you to go away.”
Yunjin’s out of options. She has half a mind to drop to her knees and beg at Chaewon’s feet, another half a mind to offer her body in a barter system trade, but before she can choose anything too rash, she feels a third presence in the entryway to the study nook.
“Those are some mighty questionable listening skills there, superstar.” A grasp on the back of her chair, and Yunjin feels the indicator that she’s not welcome. She grits her teeth as the voice continues. “Chaewon, you good?”
The bobbed girl smiles as the redhead finally gets up, accepting defeat. She offers a lazy fold of her hand as a wave, rubbing salt into the wound.
“I’m fine, Chaeyoung. Yunjin was just leaving. Bye.”
Yunjin’s breath hitches as the email loads.
Thank you for your appointment with the Barnette University Tutoring center! This is a reminder that your appointment is scheduled for today, Thursday, at 5:00PM. Please forward a copy of any assignments you will be bringing to your session for your assigned tutor.
“Drumroll,” she whispers to herself, scrolling down.
You will be working with: Sakura Miyawaki
She wants to shove her fist through the tiny phone screen. She’s sure this Sakura girl is lovely, and her reviews were all glowing, but she can see her shot at professional prospects fading on the horizon into a pinprick.
She slips her phone back into her pocket and groans.
Practice seems monumentally less exciting when she doesn’t even know if she’ll get play time this season. The weight of her duffel bag feels extra heavy as the strap digs into her shoulder, as if her shoes mock her. Ha, dumbass. You got cocky and now look where you are.
At least the basketball court feels like home. She’s got two hours to empty her mind and build her resolve for the upcoming semester. She’s wanted to go pro since she was nine and that determination hasn’t wavered, 10 whole years later. All the greatest players use their adversity to fuel them. She tries to keep this in mind as she climbs up the steps to the practice stadium, hoping the next step is to just crush her workout. A 5PM tutoring session means she’ll have to sprint from there to the Tutoring Center building as soon as they finish, but hopefully a few minutes lost won’t cost her too badly.
Coach Wendy looks like she’s seen a ghost.
“You can’t be here,” she blurts, marching towards Yunjin with frenzied wide eyes.
“What? I’m always here,” Yunjin waves the woman off, unzipping her hoodie to peel it off her frame. “Early, might I add.”
“You’re on probation,” Wendy reminds her, through clenched teeth. She glances around at the few other girls having trickled in, as if the sound of their conversation might set something off. “You can’t be here.”
“Bullshit. It’ll be fine.” Yunjin should be less comfortable swearing around Wendy, but the woman’s all bark and no bite anyways, so she thinks to hope it reads like a badge of honor and shrugs her concerns off.
She’s ready to go greet some of the other girls before the captain steps in her way, head tilted disapprovingly in that way she can’t stand.
“Yunjin.”
She hates when people use her name like a warning. At least give her something useful to work with.
“Oh, fuck off Ryujin,” she all but spits in the other’s direction. “What am I supposed to do instead?”
“Condition, train on your own, and get your life together.” Strong arms cross over her chest, as if to cover the BU logo emblazoned on her practice shirt. “Don’t cause more trouble. We need you.”
Yunjin glares up at the captain. “You do a dog shit job acting like it.”
“Look at the kid throwing a fit! Exactly the sort of morale boost we need,” Irene’s booming voice cuts through the impending argument, nipping it before it escalates. Yunjin hates when their head coach has to say anything to her that isn’t a correction or a compliment. “You can still come to team dinners, numbskull. We just can’t have you parading around on official outings. It’s not for too much longer.”
“It doesn’t make any-”
“You keep complaining about cards dealt by your own hand,” Irene quickly interjects, holding up a hand to silence Yunjin as Ryujin simply stares from where she stands. “Think that over, alright?”
Yunjin has half a mind to grab a ball out of the bucket and hurl it at the captain’s head. She fucking gets it, she knows what they’re going to say by now before they say it, but it doesn’t help her to hear the same four phrases over and over.
She marches home with heated steps and takes a rip so powerful from Kazuha’s bong she’s sure she’s catapulted into another dimension. She usually doesn’t touch it until off-season, but fuck it if she’s about to be forced into an off season. Fuck drug testing, fuck the team, fuck these stupid rules at this stupid school that just wants to see her fail.
After all she’s done? All the attention and sponsors and recognition she’s brought with the pure talent just rippling out of her? After all she’s fucking given?
She tokes a few times more than she likely should. Her body feels like bread dough by the time she feels satisfied, sticky and puffy and stuck to her bed, when a text lulls her out of her hypnosis of staring at the popcorn ceiling in an attempt to count the bumps.
dad
Dinner after practice?
It’s almost embarrassing how long it takes her fingers to haul out a response.
dad
can’t getting tutored
I’ll see you after next week’s conference then? I leave this evening.
yeah ily sorry
Tutoring. Her stupid semester that hasn’t even started yet. Sophomore year fucking blows so far.
At the very bare minimum, she figures she can bring her syllabi and get a head start on the intro assignments she’s gonna have to plow through anyways. She’ll ask for a recommendation for tutoring center-endorsed private tutors and figure out some way to cram it all into her schedule. Maybe she’ll double up, who knows?
She’ll practice twice as long as the team for twice as hard, ditch the dinners, and come back a new jacked super-soldier even bigger than Irene and twice the player she ever was. Yunjin giggles. Irene would have a fit to not be the biggest person in the room.
She’ll show up Ryujin and get the C embroidered onto her jersey, she’ll be the greatest player in BU history, and she’ll write lovingly about this when she’s gone pro and become the most recognized player in the WNBA. She’ll play for years and get signed to her first book deal. They’ll make a movie out of the book, she’ll get someone hot as fuck to play her and her future wife in the movie, and she’ll get to say a big fuck you to everyone who tried to hold her back. She’ll be a star, everyone else will look stupid as shit, and she’ll buy her own team in the WNBA with all the money she’s rolling in.
It’s a beautiful sentiment. Her eyelids feel like they’re made of honey as they start to drip closed. Maybe she can imagine it quietly to herself for a second.
She doesn’t get a chance to even remember what she was dreaming about before she groggily realizes she never set an alarm. The panic that sets in when her phone buzzes, one long low one as done by her calendar alerts, is enough to jolt her out of bed.
Now: Tutoring at BUTC
Why the fuck did she set it to alert her at the actual time instead of ahead of time? Who does that?
Whatever residual high she may want to feel is quickly replaced by the looming realization that this is not a good sign for Yunjin. She tries to cram as many relevant things into her backpack as she can— her laptop, a pen, her empty notebook, nearly leaving her wallet and keychain behind before sprinting out the door. She wants to scream when she realizes Thursday is day one of move-in weekend, the cars circling outside the dorm earlier have now unloaded into full swing.
What’s worse is that nobody seems to give a shit that the girl hauling ass down the hallway looks like she has somewhere to be, instead jamming up the elevator with boxes and equipment far too heavy to go all at once. She stifles a groan and nearly breaks an ankle bounding down four flights of stairs.
Her fucking laptop smashes into her spine with each bound she takes, sprinting as fast as her wobbly legs will take her in an attempt to cross campus and salvage what’s left of the day. She’s halfway across campus by the time she realizes she’s actually never been to the Tutoring Center, penalizing herself another several minutes as she attempts to pull it up on her phone.
The irony isn’t lost upon her when she realizes that it’s literally directly in front of the gym, meaning it’s just a brief stroll down the way from their training facilities. Leave it to Yunjin to make one big stupid circle.
The lady working the front desk looks rightfully concerned at the figure that bursts through the door, huffing and puffing after what felt like a half marathon across BU. Yunjin can barely speak between labored breaths, shakily reaching through her wallet to drop her student ID on the countertop.
“I have... an appointment... with Sakura!” She manages between breaths.
The lady smiles hesitantly and swipes the ID card onto a scanner. She nods and hands it back. “You’ll be in Room 2. For future reference, we have a 15 minute late policy.”
Yunjin furrows her brow, nearly pained by the comment. “I know, I’m sorry. I got lost.”
The woman gives her an empathetic look. “You picked a good one to be late with. She’s very understanding. Go ahead, you’re all checked in.”
It’s the first semblance of good news it feels like Yunjin’s gotten in forever. She nods appreciatively at the front desk and paces quickly into her designated room. A narrow-framed woman with cascading blonde curls turns to face her as soon as she pushes open the door.
“Oh hello, you must be Yunjin!” She greets, clasping her hands together excitedly.
It feels like the first time someone is actually excited to see her this week. Her stance softens slightly as she feels some of the tension melt off her shoulders, offering the tutor a smile. “That’s me. You’re Sakura?”
“Indeed I am.” She motions for Yunjin to sit on the other side of the desk, across from her, and taps out something onto the iPad in her hand. Her forehead wrinkles in what looks like calculation. “Did you get a chance to forward the assignments you wanted to work on?”
Yunjin winces as she sinks down into the chair, fishing for her laptop out of her bag. She’s off to a shit start. “I signed up this morning for this slot and totally spaced. I’m sorry. I have a lot of stuff due for the first week actually and I was hoping you’d help me come up with a schedule for that?”
“Unfortunately, I’m only allowed to help with the actual assignment portion and nothing more,” Sakura explains, still chipper but obviously empathetic to Yunjin’s plight. She glances once more at her iPad. “I hope you’ll understand, since you came in late we’ll have limited time to work. I can’t clip in to my next meeting.”
Cross out whatever she said about her luck changing. She’s clearly jinxed herself. Yunjin bites down on her molars and decides she has nothing to lose from asking for more help.
“Can I get an extra session later this week?”
“You could go to group tutoring in between, but we firmly cap students off at two sessions to ensure everyone who needs the resources can access them,” Sakura explains.
But I need this, she thinks. I need resources and access to them. Who better to give the time to than me?
Yunjin lets out a low breath. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“That’s quite alright!” As if on a switch, Sakura’s back to full energy. She flattens her palms against the table, fingers splayed, before beaming up brightly at Yunjin. “I find it helps to take a moment for calming breaths before we dive in. Would you care to join me?”
Yunjin stifles a groan and glances at the clock projected beneath the glass surface of the desk. 43 minutes left of precious time. She won’t even have a chance to ask for advice on how many classes to take, if Sakura’s even allowed to answer.
Before she can respond, Sakura’s iPad glows with a call.
“That’s my supervisor,” Sakura explains, excusing herself from the desk. “Would you give me one moment?”
Yunjin feels the physical weight of her soul being crushed as Sakura steps out. So much for her head start. Some fucking semester this is going to be.
She glances around. A security camera above her head, potted plants along the perimeter of the wall, a charging station, a pencil sharpener. Did people in college still use regular pencils? She glances down at her mechanical one, holographic foil reflecting the lights. The plastic clip, still attached, nothing short of a miracle.
She pops the pencil clip between her teeth and gnaws. It’s a bad habit she doesn’t plan to break any time soon.
The door cracks and she’s just barely too slow to drop it into her lap. It’s embarrassing, but maybe if she pretends it’s totally normal, it’ll save them both the—
Yunjin swallows down hard and blinks. The eyes blink back.
The dark, round eyes of Chaewon.
“You’re shit at planning things out. How the hell was I supposed to reach out to you?”
People actually don’t credit Yunjin enough for her planning abilities, but to be fair, most semblances of a plan are usually overshadowed by her propensity to make them up on the fly. Some call that being impulsive, she calls it being a do-er and not a pussy.
Somehow, Chaewon’s presence in the doorway stops her from being able to defend herself.
“I um-” she begins, but it’s clearly of no interest to the other girl, who slips into the room and closes the door behind her. She slinks into what was once Sakura’s chair and lays a small packet of papers across the desk to Yunjin.
“You need my time, and my time is very precious to me.” Chaewon pushes the packet forward towards her, motioning to it with her head. “Terms and conditions.”
“You wrote a contract?” Yunjin’s more shocked than anything, but her stomach does a flip as she realizes what this means for her. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. She stares up at Chaewon with wide eyes, feeling them nearly pop out of her skull. “What changed your mind?”
“Terms and conditions,” Chaewon repeats, more forcefully this time. She lays a pen next to the packet. “This is the deal.”
“Where’s Sakura?” Yunjin asks, brows knitting together as she tries to piece together exactly what just happened.
Did Chaewon just happen to have this thing lying around? Did she know Yunjin was coming? She realizes now Chaewon’s right, Yunjin didn’t give her any way to reach out in the event she changed her mind, but in her own defense, the conversation they had seemed pretty conclusive.
The other girl groans and smashes her hand down on the papers and pen, lifting out of the chair to shove them forcefully into Yunjin’s chest. “You want to work with her? Or do you want to sign my contract and start this stupid thing?”
Yunjin clutches the packet and lays it back down on the table, uncapping the pen. Holy shit. Maybe her luck is finally turning. Her eyes scan over the first paragraph, written on a plan letterhead but nonetheless as fancy as she figures a contract gets.
She swallows nervously; the closest she ever got to signing her own shit was commitment day back in high school, and she didn’t even read her own contract, just looked for the one that said BU and signed everywhere they had stuck a sticky tab.
This agreement, made on the ____ day of ____ in the year _____, by and between KIM CHAEWON, hereinafter called “The Tutor,” and HUH YUNJIN, hereinafter called “The Student...”
Kim Chaewon. Yunjin stifles a grin. KCW. HYJ. She likes that both their names separate into three syllables.
She feels the glare of a rather piercing gaze bore into her. She swallows down and pretends she hasn’t zoned out. Fuck. Focus, Yunjin.
Her eyes skip the rest of the intro gibberish and dart to the first bullet on the list.
During the entirety of tenure whilst receiving services, The Student is not to engage in any extra-curricular pastimes that may hinder progress or ability to absorb the material when services are being rendered. These are defined as, but not limited to: the consumption of alcoholic beverages or other intoxicating substances, the consumption of illegal or recreational drugs not prescribed to The Student by a medical professional, or the attendance of The Student to any social gathering as to which the previously stated hindrances may be present...
Yunjin blinks as she realizes what the bullshit mumbo jumbo basically comes out to. She glares in disbelief at Chaewon’s self-confidence, to which the girl responds with a smug grin and sinewy arms folding over her chest.
“No partying? What the fuck are you, my mom?” Yunjin balks.
“You need me,” Chaewon hisses, leaning forward over the desk once more to meet Yunjin’s gaze. “I don’t have time to be wasting on you, much less you showing up to our sessions drunk, high, or both.”
Yunjin takes it far more personally than she’ll care to admit. “I’m basically being forced into an off season. I should be allowed to do what I want.”
“If you can get kicked off your team for it, you should take it seriously,” Chaewon counters, stare unwavering. “You’d be fired if you showed up to work fucked up. Basketball used to be your job, now your grades are gonna be your job.”
“But I didn’t show up to work fucked up. I partied when I partied, then I played when I played. I was able to do both and keep them separate. Point being, I was able to do both,” Yunjin snaps back.
Chaewon grins. It’s that terrifying, knowing grin someone gives when they’ve got something up their sleeve. Yunjin dry swallows at the idea that she’s left herself wide open.
“Oh mighty Yunjin, and where’s that gotten you?”
She motions between them, and Yunjin feels herself slump backwards into her chair. Her dumbass walked right into that one.
“Besides,” Chaewon continues, waving haphazardly at the packet as she looks away to examine her nails. “Your coach signed off on it.”
Yunjin nearly leaps out of her chair at the mention of Irene.
“What the fuck?”
Another shrug from the girl, before she circles around back to the point of their meeting. “How bad do you want this?”
Yunjin groans and signs the sheet at the lines indicated with highlighted marker, too miffed to read any more of the jumbled wordy mess. If Irene’s had a say in setting this up, she’ll have a say in tweaking it. Plus, Chaewon’s her tutor, not her babysitter, so there’s no chance she’ll know what she does on her off time. She just wants the fucking thing done and over with, and her life back on track.
“We start tomorrow,” Chaewon states, watching as Yunjin finishes signing. “Give me your number.”
Chaewon doesn’t hand out her phone or anything, so Yunjin shrugs and scribbles it out at the empty margin below their signatures. This isn’t the first time she’s signed her number onto something less than ideal, so she figures a contract won’t be the weirdest thing ever on her list. She hands the papers back to the tutor and watches as Chaewon’s face twists up into a scowl looking over her work.
“Your student number,” she spits through gritted teeth, shoving the papers back down onto the desk. “That’s how I’ll get all your contact info.”
Yunjin doesn’t get how she was supposed to know that, rolling her eyes, but obliges nonetheless, hunching over the table to scribble the longer number down beneath it. She’s pretty sure Chaewon is the most unpleasant person she’s pretty much ever dealt with (confirming her theory that Yelp is payed off) but against her better judgement, repeats the most pressing question Chaewon had left unanswered.
“What changed your mind?”
She looks up and sees the calculation across the girl’s face, whether or not Yunjin is worthy enough to know the answer. A heavy pause that Yunjin waits on with baited breath, and suddenly she's finding herself much too fixated on the curve of the other's lip.
“There’s a fast track diplomacy program, extremely competitive, with the international college,” Chaewon finally shares, breaking a few moments worth of heavy silence. “Internships are usually performed among actual political groups and not just stuffy insulated offices watching it all unfold.”
Yunjin's brows knit together. BU was renowned for many programs, among them being their exceptional political science program. The only thing that outpaced it was that extremely competitive international college diplomat’s program.
Chaewon seems to see the redhead mulling it over. She narrows her gaze at Yunjin, clearly about to reveal the last card up her sleeve.
“The program is led by Huh Daehyun, PhD.”
The realization hits her faster than a freight train. A beat, a blink, and she sinks back into her chair as the pieces all seem to come together. “Oh.”
A grin takes to Chaewon's lips. There's an annoyance to her eyes, something Yunjin's figuring she won't outgrow any time soon, but there's a glow behind them that Yunjin finds herself mesmerized by. Yunjin wouldn't know anything about it, considering her mind goes blank when she hits the court and it's all instinct, but seeing Chaewon looking at her, a million connections a mile, is entrancing.
“When you make a convincing argument, your name is worthless if it carries no weight. You have to prove why you need to be respected, and your dumb ass needs to remember not everyone gives a shit about whatever your deal is with basketball. You have to know your audience.”
Chaewon leans forward, finger held up to keep Yunjin's attention as the final piece of the puzzle is popped into place.
“I’m gonna help you, because your dad runs that program.”
Part of Yunjin forgets that not everyone knows her dad runs the international program. She gets severely grossed out when people try to call him "Chairman Huh" for the several reasons of: a. kissing ass is the most annoying thing ever, and b. the term is "chair" now to be gender inclusive because that's what makes sense. Also— her dad can barely take care of himself when he gets into his work grooves, so the idea of people worshipping what is essentially a grown man with big nerd syndrome sometimes really unnerves her.
She scowls at the idea that Chaewon's another sheep putting him on a pedestal.
“You are so fucking geeky for that to matter to you,” Yunjin finally blurts out, annoyed that Chaewon had been sitting on this like it was some big secret. Like this was the big reveal.
“And you’re so fucking stupid for leaving that connection out," the girl snaps back, just as quickly with twice as much bite, examining her nails boredly. “You’re lucky Chaeyoung hates you enough to spew on and on about how you don’t deserve to be here just ‘cause your dad is some fancy chairman. I don’t know how she possibly knew and I didn’t.”
Yunjin almost forgets to ask why Chaeyoung could possibly hate her after only meeting her once. Her jaw hardens, but the crack in her voice abandons any resolve of toughness she was trying to project. “I deserve to be here.”
“Well you won’t get the chance to prove that without my help getting you back on track." It feels like Chaewon is somehow always one step ahead, a retort on hand ready to fire, loaded in the chamber. But fuck if she's wrong. Yunjin feels herself slump deeper into the chair at the realization that Chaewon is her best shot, her most viable option, and the one handing her the keys to her own future.
“I tutor you out of academic probation, and you convince Chairman Huh to get me into that program.” A manicured hand splayed out onto the table, Chaewon leans against it as she explains the plan once and for all. Yunjin follows her gaze with her own tired eyes. “You’re back playing, I get into that program, and we both call it a fair day.”
In layman's terms, it's basically what Yunjin had wanted after all, minus the money, plus an extra condition on her part. It's exactly what she had told Kazuha and Jimin she needed, exactly what her whole criteria had been. Someone with skin in the game, someone who only benefits if Yunjin succeeds, someone with as much to gain as she does and something dire to lose.
Chaewon's high voice breaks through Yunjin's thought train once more, dark eyes burning into her.
“Do we have a deal?”
Yunjin lets out a quiet breath. A slow nod, picking up speed as she realizes that this might actually fucking work.
“I’ll send you my schedule later.”
Chaewon tuts angrily, curling her hand into a fist before waggling a finger in Yunjin's face. She stands up, snatching the contract from the desk.
“You’re on my time, remember?” She pushes up from the chair and moves out from behind the desk, making her way towards the door without a single glance more taken in Yunjin's direction. “I’ll send you my availability, and you make it work.”
Yunjin, at this point, is too mentally drained to offer any other response. She can't tell Chaewon that handing over control of her entire life freaks her the fuck out, so she goes for the next best possible excuse.
“I have practice,” Yunjin tells her weakly.
A final glare to end their conversation as Chaewon's hand rests on the doorknob, shooting one last glance over her shoulder at Yunjin.
“If you want even the slightest chance to get back on that team, you need to be ready to do everything I say, exactly how I say to do it. I’ll be in touch,” she says simply, before disappearing out the door.