a series of beautiful blunders | ryeji

"Ryujin's disgusting when she's in love," Lia says, her expression nonchalant, tone far too casual as she settles next to Yeji on the bleachers.

Yeji's stunned—shocked that Ryujin is even the topic of conversation. Her forehead scrunches as she frowns, confused. "Why do you say that?"

"Because," Lia huffs, watching as Yuna and the rest of the squad gather ideas, "She looks like she'd give up everything to keep them happy."

Yeji frowns deeper, more confused by the ease in Lia's voice, and follows her gaze to the animated Yuna, laughing as she pitches ideas. "How is that disgusting?"

"It's not."

The squad looks cheerful being led by Yuna. She's the less uptight of the two captains—an obvious fact, even to people outside of the team. She keeps them motivated, smiling through every hurdle, a bright, magnetic force of optimism. People admire that about Yuna—not just the goofiness, but the rare ability to make joy feel effortless.

"Then what is it?"

Yeji watches as Lia's stare doesn't waver from the girl in the center of it all. Her voice comes quiet, heavy beneath the disguise of nonchalance. "It's disgusting how she says she's not in love with you, but would do that for you anyway."

Yeji's silence earns Lia's attention. She knows she's struck something sharp. Their eyes meet. Lia smiles, faint and maybe apologetic—but Yeji doesn't think it's meant to soothe.

"It's almost like she's always been in love with you," Lia says.

Yeji's attention is drawn away by Yuna's laughter echoing across the field. There's an ache that twists in her joints. A sharp stillness in her chest. "She's not," she mutters, quietly.

"I know," Lia hums, her gaze soft as it returns to Yuna.

The silence is too loud.

Lia gets up after a beat, flashing Yeji a look that feels older than she is—measured, grounded, like she's trying not to break anything that's already cracked. "If there's anyone Ryujin would give Yuna's love up for, it's you."

She pauses, mid-step, glancing over her shoulder.

"And, well, if anything," she says, voice low, "She's happiest when you're happy."

(Yeji doesn't know how to tell her it goes both ways.)

-

"The world feels too noisy to live in sometimes."

Yeji snorts. "You're surrounded by cheerleaders, Yuna, and Lia. What else did you expect?"

Ryujin chuckles, taking Yeji's hand, fingertips brushing along her knuckles. "You know that's not what I mean."

Yeji smiles, head resting against Ryujin's shoulder. The sun sets ahead of them, gold bleeding into a soft orange and cobalt blue that reminds her of Ryujin's old car. Ryujin's hand stills on her fingers. The silence between them isn't uncomfortable, but Yeji knows there's something Ryujin's holding back.

"I bring you along because you don't add to the noise," Ryujin murmurs. "Well—you do. But it's good noise. You're good."

Yeji lifts her head slightly, just enough to meet Ryujin's eyes. Ryujin's smile is shy, a little crooked—an awkward kind of vulnerability Yeji doesn't often see from her. The orange sunlight catches in her lashes.

"I know," Yeji says, and she means: I know what you're saying.

Ryujin grins, bottom teeth peeking out as she turns her face back toward the sunset. Yeji nestles back into her side, letting the quiet fall again.