somewhere between almost and always [so junghwan treasure completed]

Chapter 12: The Labels We Fear

The Monday after Junghwan held her hand felt like walking into a new chapter of a book Ji-eun hadn't realized they'd been writing together all along.

It was subtle, the shift. There were no flashy labels exchanged. No social media announcements. No cheesy texts with heart emojis. But the silence between them had changed—it was softer now, filled with understanding instead of uncertainty. And that, to Ji-eun, was everything.

Still, school was school. And teenagers had the uncanny ability to notice the slightest shift in energy and make a K-drama out of it.

"Are you two dating or just holding hands like middle schoolers?" Soo-ah asked, not even looking up from her notes as they sat in the cafeteria.

Ji-eun, who had been poking at her rice absentmindedly, flushed. "We're not labeling it."

"Ah," Soo-ah nodded, smirking. "The classic 'we're just seeing where it goes' situation."

Ji-eun scowled. "It's not like that. We talked about it. We're just... taking it slow."

"Slow is fine, Ji," Soo-ah said, finally glancing up. "But labels exist for a reason. Sometimes not defining something is just another way of keeping it easy to walk away from."

That struck something in Ji-eun—something she didn't want to admit had been gnawing at her too.

She had told herself she didn't need a label. That their quiet, mutual understanding was enough. But maybe... maybe a part of her did want it. Not because she wanted to show him off, not because she needed to hear the word boyfriend, but because she wanted to know he saw her as his.

Junghwan, on the other hand, was currently having his own version of an existential crisis on the rooftop with Seungmin and Haru, a quiet but perceptive classmate who had somehow become the accidental third in their friendship.

"She held your hand?" Haru asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She didn't hold my hand," Junghwan muttered, annoyed. "I held hers."

"Same difference, man," Seungmin laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "The point is, you did something uncharacteristically not emotionally repressed. I'm proud of you."

Junghwan scowled, but there was a slight curve at the corner of his mouth.

Haru leaned back, arms behind his head. "So... is she your girlfriend now?"

That wiped the smile off Junghwan's face.

"Why does everyone keep asking that?"

"Because that's what people do when you start dating someone," Haru said casually. "It's the natural next step."

"I never said we're dating."

"You held her hand, Junghwan."

Junghwan stared down at his shoes. "It's just... complicated. She says she doesn't need labels. I don't either. What we have is enough."

"Is it though?" Haru asked, more gently this time. "Or are you just scared to call it something because calling it something makes it real—and real things can break."

Junghwan didn't answer. Because, once again, Haru was annoyingly right.

That evening, Ji-eun stared at her phone for what felt like forever. There was a message she wanted to send—a simple, curious one: What are we?

But every time she typed it, her thumb hovered over the send button, then retreated.

Instead, she texted, "You free to walk home today?"

The reply came within seconds.
Junghwan: Yeah. Meet you at the gate.

The air between them was calm as they walked side by side, their shoulders brushing occasionally. There was a comfort to their silence, but it also buzzed with the tension of unsaid things.

Ji-eun kicked a small rock on the pavement. "Can I ask you something?"

Junghwan glanced at her. "Of course."

She took a breath. "Do you think not labeling something makes it easier to leave when it gets hard?"

Junghwan stopped walking.

She turned to face him, surprised. His expression was unreadable.

"Where's this coming from?" he asked.

"I just..." she hesitated. "I don't need a label. But I also don't want to be just almost. You know what I mean?"

Junghwan ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. "Yeah. I do."

He looked down at the pavement for a moment before speaking again.

"I've never really been good at this stuff," he said, voice low. "Labels, relationships, all of it. I told myself it didn't matter—if I knew how I felt, why did I need a word to prove it?"

"And now?" she asked, softly.

He looked up, his gaze steady. "Now... I think maybe I was using that as an excuse. Because the truth is, calling you my girlfriend scares me. Not because I don't want you to be. But because that makes it real. And I've never had something real like this before."

Ji-eun felt her heart twist, but in a good way. Because this—this honesty—was the kind of intimacy that labels could never match.

"So... does that mean you do want me to be?" she asked, her voice teasing to ease the moment.

Junghwan gave a crooked smile. "Yeah. I do."

"Even if I eat all the fries when we go out?"

He nodded.

"Even if I make you talk about your feelings every now and then?"

He groaned. "I'm already regretting this."

She laughed, nudging his arm. "Too late."

And just like that, the fear between them softened. Not disappeared—but softened. Because now, there was clarity.

Junghwan reached for her hand again. This time, he didn't hesitate.

"So... we're doing this?" she asked.

He nodded. "We're doing this."

The next day, when they walked into school together—fingers still loosely laced—the whispers started immediately. People stared, eyebrows were raised, conversations paused mid-sentence. Ji-eun caught one girl literally drop her pen in shock.

Junghwan didn't flinch.

In fact, he smirked.

When they reached their lockers, Soo-ah gave Ji-eun a look.

Ji-eun raised an eyebrow. "Yes, we're dating."

Soo-ah grinned. "Finally."

Ji-eun smiled to herself.

It wasn't about the label. Not really.

It was about being chosen. Out loud. In public. And without apology.

And that, more than any word, was what she'd really wanted.