Chapter Text
The classroom smelled like crayons and floor wax, and Nicholas already decided he hated it. He sat on a plastic primary-colored chair, arms crossed over his chest, mimicking the "don't mess with me" expression his older sister used when she wanted the TV remote.
He was supposed to be a cool kid. His sister had spent the morning messing up his hair just right and telling him that if anyone tried to take his toys, he should just stare them down.
Then, the door opened, and he walked in.
He was small—smaller than Nicholas—clutching a stuffed bunny by its ear. He looked like he’d been scrubbed clean within an inch of his life. His socks were pulled up perfectly straight, and his bowl cut was so neat it looked like a helmet.
"This is Euijoo," the teacher announced.
Euijoo didn't look at anyone. He looked at his shiny black shoes and gave a tiny, polite bow. He looked soft. Like the kind of kid who would cry if you stepped on a bug.
Target acquired, Nicholas thought.
Euijoo was directed to the seat next to him. Nicholas watched him out of the corner of his eye. Euijoo carefully placed his bunny on the table, smoothed out his shorts, and took out a box of pencils that were organized by color.
"Hey," Nicholas said, his voice dropping into what he thought was a husky, tough-guy tone.
Euijoo jumped, his eyes wide and shimmering. "H-hello."
"Your bunny is ugly," Nicholas said flatly.
Euijoo’s lip wobbled. He pulled the bunny closer to his chest. "It’s not. My noona gave it to me. It’s a special bunny."
"It’s pink," Nicholas pointed out, leaning back and kicking his legs out. "Pink is for girls."
"I like pink," Euijoo whispered, his voice small but surprisingly firm. He tucked a stray hair behind his ear—a gesture so dainty it made Nicholas’s stomach feel like he’d swallowed a literal frog.
Nicholas blinked. Most kids would have cried by now. But Euijoo just sat there, chin trembling but eyes fixed on his drawing paper, determined to ignore the 'cool' boy next to him.
Nicholas reached over and casually swiped Euijoo’s favorite blue crayon.
"Give it back," Euijoo demanded, his shyness momentarily replaced by a flare of indignation.
"Make me," Nicholas smirked.
He expected a fight, or a teacher to be called. Instead, Euijoo just huffed, a tiny puff of air that blew his bangs upward, and reached for a purple crayon instead. He looked so concentrated, so serious about his little drawing of a flower, that Nicholas felt a weird tug in his chest.
He looked at Euijoo’s neat shoes, his soft cheeks, and the way he carefully colored inside the lines. Something clicked in Nicholas’s five-year-old brain. This kid was a mess. He was too soft for this world. He was definitely going to get his snacks stolen if someone didn't look out for him.
Nicholas dropped the blue crayon back onto Euijoo’s paper.
"Fine. You can have it back because I'm nice," Nicholas muttered, looking away so Euijoo wouldn't see him turn red.
Euijoo looked at the crayon, then at Nicholas. He gave a tiny, shy smile—the kind that showed a hint of a dimple. "Thank you, Nichol."
Nicholas grumbled something under his breath about how he wasn't being nice, he was just bored. But as he watched Euijoo start coloring again, he realized he didn't want to sit anywhere else.
He's mine now, Nicholas decided, crossing his arms again. I’m gonna bother him forever.
-
The afternoon sun stretched long, orange shadows across the classroom floor. Outside, the sounds of engines and parents' voices had faded, leaving Nicholas and Euijoo as the last two standing in the late pickup zone.
Nicholas was bored, which was a dangerous state for anyone in his immediate vicinity. He spent ten minutes organizing Euijoo’s pencil case, which actually meant hiding the sharpener inside a hollowed-out glue stick and swapping the caps on all the markers so the blue one drew red.
Euijoo, ever the serious student, was trying to finish a drawing of a garden. He sat with his back straight, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth in deep concentration.
"Euijoo-yaa," Nicholas droned, leaning his head on his hand. "Your flower looks like a giant grape. A hairy, ugly grape."
Euijoo didn’t look up. He just gripped his green crayon tighter. "It’s a hydrangea, Nichol. My noona has them in her room. They’re pretty."
"They look like brains," Nicholas countered, reaching out to poke the center of the paper. "Brain-flowers for a brain-boy."
"Stop it," Euijoo said, his voice firm but soft. He moved his paper away, but Nicholas was faster. He snatched the drawing, holding it high above his head.
"Give it! Nicholas, give it back!"
"Only if you say I'm the coolest person in the whole world," Nicholas smirked, dancing around a tiny desk. He loved this—the way Euijoo’s cheeks puffed out and his eyes got all sparkly with frustration. It made Nicholas feel powerful, but in a way that made him want to keep looking at Euijoo forever.
The teasing escalated. Nicholas started making whooshing sounds, pretending the paper was a kite, accidentally-on-purpose crinkling the corner.
"Nichol, please... it’s for my noona," Euijoo’s voice wobbled. The firmness was cracking. His eyes were swimming in unshed tears, and he looked so small and delicate that Nicholas felt a sudden, sharp pang of guilt.
Before Nicholas could apologize or hand the paper back, the classroom door swung open with a bang.
"Euijoo-ya!"
A tall girl with a bright smile rushed in—Euijoo’s older sister. She took one look at her brother’s trembling lip and the crinkled paper in Nicholas’s hand, and her protective mode clicked on instantly.
"Oh, my poor baby!" she cried, scooping Euijoo into a hug. Euijoo buried his face in her cardigan, finally letting a single tear fall. "Did your friend bother you?"
Right behind her stood a girl with a much sharper expression; Nicholas’s older sister.
"Nicholas!" she barked, her voice echoing. She didn't need to ask what happened; she knew her brother too well. She marched over and clipped him gently on the back of the head. "What did I tell you about being a brat? Give that back right now!"
Nicholas sheepishly handed the paper to Euijoo’s sister. "I was just... playing."
"Playing is when both people are laughing, you little monster," his sister hissed. She turned to Euijoo’s sister, her face softening into an apologetic grimace. "I am so sorry. He’s been raised by wolves, clearly. I’m Nicholas’s sister."
"It's okay," Euijoo's sister sighed, rubbing Euijoo's back. "He’s just very sensitive. I’m Euijoo’s noona. We just moved into the Sky-View building this morning, so I think we're all a bit stressed."
Nicholas’s sister blinked, then laughed. "Wait—the Sky-View? We just moved into the 12th floor there yesterday!"
Nicholas and Euijoo both looked up at the same time.
"You're in my building?" Nicholas asked, his cool facade slipping into genuine excitement.
Euijoo poked his head out from his sister's side, sniffing back his tears. He looked at Nicholas—the boy who had just made him want to cry—and saw the way Nicholas was looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.
"I'm on the 10th floor," Euijoo whispered.
"Well," Nicholas's sister said, grabbing Nicholas by the collar of his shirt to drag him toward the door. "Looks like you two are going to be seeing a lot more of each other. Nicholas, apologize properly. Now."
Nicholas looked at his shoes, then at Euijoo's soft, round face. "Sorry for the brain-flowers, Euijoo. They... they actually looked okay."
Euijoo gave a tiny, shy nod, clutching his sister's hand.
As they walked toward the parking lot, Nicholas watched the way Euijoo’s sister practically carried him. He felt a weird mix of jealousy and satisfaction. He was going to be the one to protect Euijoo from everyone else in that building—even if he was the one doing the teasing.
-
The coincidence was almost too much for Nicholas to handle. When his mom dragged him down two floors to visit an old college friend, he’d expected boring tea and adult talk. Instead, the door opened, and there stood the boy with the shiny shoes and the bowl cut.
Both mothers screamed in delight, hugging like they’d found lost treasure, but Nicholas and Euijoo just stared at each other in the entryway.
"Go play in Euijoo’s room, Nicholas," his mom said, giving him a firm nudge. "And behave."
Euijoo’s room was exactly how Nicholas imagined: terrifyingly neat. The stuffed bunny was sitting perfectly on the pillow, and there wasn't a single stray crayon on the floor. It felt too quiet.
Nicholas felt the weight of the peace offering in his pocket. His sister had told him he’d better make it right, or she’d tell their mom about the time he broke the vase.
"Here," Nicholas muttered, thrusting his hand out. He didn't look at Euijoo; he looked at a poster of a solar system on the wall.
Euijoo blinked, his dark eyes wide. He reached out and took a crumpled, slightly sticky bag of high-end gummy bears—the kind Nicholas usually hid under his bed so he wouldn't have to share.
"They're the sour ones," Nicholas added, crossing his arms and huffing. "Because you were acting sour today at school. So now you can just eat them."
Euijoo looked at the bag, then back at Nicholas. A tiny, soft smile started to form. "Thank you, Nichol. I like these."
"Whatever," Nicholas grumbled, feeling his face get hot. He walked over to Euijoo’s desk and saw the crinkled hydrangea drawing from earlier. It had been smoothed out with books, but the white creases were still there.
Nicholas felt a pang of that weird frog-in-the-stomach feeling again. He grabbed a gold glitter pen from Euijoo's desk—probably the fanciest one he had—and started scribbling over the crinkles.
"What are you doing?!" Euijoo gasped, rushing over.
"Making it better," Nicholas said, concentrating hard. He drew little gold stars and cool lightning bolts all over the flower. It looked messy, chaotic, and definitely not neat anymore. "There. Now it’s a Super-Space-Flower. No one can say it looks like a brain now."
Euijoo stared at his ruined, sparkly drawing. Nicholas braced himself for the crying. He expected the shy, soft boy to break down again.
Instead, Euijoo let out a small, melodic giggle. He touched the wet glitter with a careful finger.
"It’s messy," Euijoo whispered.
"It’s cool," Nicholas corrected.
Euijoo turned to him. His expression was serious, his eyes searching Nicholas’s face with a kindness that felt far too grown-up for a five-year-old.
"You're very loud, Nichol," Euijoo said softly. "And you say mean things. But I think you do it because you're scared of being quiet."
Nicholas froze. He didn't even know what that meant, but it felt like Euijoo had just seen right through his cool guy armor.
"I'm not scared of anything!" Nicholas barked, though his voice cracked.
Euijoo just nodded, reaching out to pat Nicholas’s hand—the same way his noona patted his. "It’s okay. I don't mind the noise. I think I’ll stay your friend, so you don't have to be quiet by yourself."
Nicholas stood there, stunned. No one had ever said anything like that to him. Not his tough sister, not his busy parents. In that moment, looking at Euijoo’s soft, dimpled smile and the gold glitter on his fingers, Nicholas felt a click in his heart—like a puzzle piece finally finding its home.
He didn't know the word for love yet, not really. But he knew right then that he was never letting this boy go.
"Fine," Nicholas muttered, turning away to hide his massive grin. "But I'm still the leader. And I’m still stealing your snacks tomorrow."
"I know," Euijoo sighed, already opening the gummy bears. "I’ll bring extra."
-
The transition from neighbors to package deals happened fast. Within months, their sisters stopped calling them by their individual names and just started yelling, "The brats are in the kitchen!" or "Go check if the cuties are on the balcony!"
Nicholas became a permanent fixture at Euijoo’s, mostly because he loved the challenge of messying up Euijoo’s perfect organization. Euijoo, in turn, became the only person Nicholas’s tough older sister actually acted sweet toward, often baking him cookies while telling Nicholas to go sit in the corner and be quiet like your friend.
But the real shift happened at the Kids’ Cafe.
The place was a chaotic neon jungle of ball pits, trampolines, and the smell of overpriced nuggets. Their mothers sat at a nearby table, finally getting a chance to drink coffee that was actually hot.
Nicholas was in his element. He was wearing a tiny leather jacket his sister bought him, looking like a pint-sized rebel. He spent the first twenty minutes guarding the entrance to the spiral slide, only letting Euijoo pass if he gave a secret password, which Nicholas changed every thirty seconds just to be annoying.
"Nichol, let me go," Euijoo sighed, standing at the top of the slide with his hands on his hips. He was wearing a soft pastel yellow sweater that made him look like a literal marshmallow. "I've already said 'Nicholas is the King' five times."
"That was the old password," Nicholas smirked, blocking the way with his arms crossed. "The new one is 'Nicholas is the King of the Universe and Euijoo is his servant.'"
Euijoo’s eyes narrowed. Usually, he’d just pout or wait it out. But today, something shifted. He’d been spending a lot of time watching Nicholas’s sister deal with him, and he’d learned a few tricks.
"Fine," Euijoo said, his voice dropping into that calm, serious tone that usually meant he was about to do something soft and polite. "If I'm your servant, then I have to go tell the Queen Mother—your mom—that her King is being a bully. She said no sliding if you don't share."
Nicholas blinked. "You wouldn't."
"I would," Euijoo said, tilting his head with a terrifyingly sweet smile. "And I'll tell her you're the one who hid her car keys in the freezer this morning."
Nicholas’s jaw dropped. "How did you—!?"
"I saw you," Euijoo chirped. He didn't wait for a reaction. He didn't push Nicholas; he just stepped back and sat down on a nearby bench, looking perfectly content to wait. "Go ahead. Keep the slide. I’ll just go talk to the moms. I think your mom mentioned taking away your game console if you got in trouble today, right?"
The hunter had become the hunted. Nicholas felt a cold sweat. If Euijoo—the angel child whom both mothers adored—told on him, he was doomed.
"Wait, wait!" Nicholas scrambled toward him, his cool facade crumbling. "Okay, okay! No password! You can have the slide! You can have the whole playground!"
Euijoo didn't move. He just looked at Nicholas, blinking slowly. "And?"
"And... I'll buy you the strawberry milk from the vending machine later," Nicholas muttered, kicking at the padded floor.
"With the little straw?"
"Yes, with the stupid little straw!"
Euijoo stood up, smoothed out his yellow sweater, and patted Nicholas’s cheek—the exact same way he had during their first playdate. "Good boy, Nichol."
Nicholas stood there, frozen, as Euijoo zipped down the slide with a joyful laugh. His heart was doing that weird frog-jump thing again. He’d been successfully bait-trapped by the softest kid he knew.
He watched Euijoo disappear into the ball pit, his small frame covered in pink wool and soft smiles. Nicholas realized then that teasing Euijoo wasn't just fun because he got a reaction—it was fun because Euijoo was the only one who could actually handle him.
He’s smarter than he looks, Nicholas thought, a goofy, smitten grin spreading across his face. I definitely picked the right best friend.
The Kids' Cafe was supposed to be a safe zone, but the jungle gym hierarchy could be brutal. Nicholas was busy trying to win a stuffed animal from a claw machine for Euijoo, while Euijoo was sitting in the corner of the ball pit, carefully arranging plastic sea creatures by species. He looked soft in his pale pink sweater—a gift from his noona—his movements delicate and focused.
Then a group of older, louder boys had cornered Euijoo near the ball pit.
"Why are you wearing a pink sweater? That’s a girl color," one boy sneered, poking at Euijoo’s shoulder. "He looks like a girl. Hey, girl-boy! Why are you so soft? Are you gonna cry?" another added, kicking a yellow ball at Euijoo’s head.
"And why do you carry that bunny everywhere? Are you a baby?" another added, reaching out to snatch the stuffed toy.
Euijoo stood his ground, his small frame trembling. He didn't yell. He didn't fight. He just held the bunny tighter to his chest, his knuckles turning white. "It’s not for babies. My noona gave it to me."
"You're just a softy," the leader laughed. "A little girl-boy who can't even play rough."
Euijoo froze. His shoulders bunched up toward his ears. He didn't fight back; he just gripped his bunny tighter, his eyes already beginning to shimmer with that familiar, heartbreaking moisture.
"Leave him alone," Euijoo whispered, his voice barely audible over the cafe's pop music.
"What? We can't hear you, Princess!" the leader laughed, reaching out to snatch the dolphin.
Before the bully’s hand could connect, a blur of dark hair and pure aggression slammed into his side. Nicholas hadn't just arrived; he had launched himself from the top of the slide.
"Move!" Nicholas barked, standing firmly in front of Euijoo. He looked like a miniature bodyguard, his face twisted into the terrifying scowl he’d practiced in the mirror to mimic his sister.
"He’s weird," the bully muttered, trying to save face. "He’s a crybaby."
"He’s mine," Nicholas countered, his chest puffing out. "And he’s better than you. Get out of our ball pit before I make you. Back off NOW"
"Or what, tough guy?" the older boy taunted.
Nicholas didn't blink. He’d watched enough of his sister’s action movies to know that a cold stare was scarier than a loud shout. "Or I’ll tell my sister you’re bothering us. She’ll turn you into a pretzel. She’s ten and she has a black belt."
She wasn't, but Nicholas said it with such conviction that the older boys actually hesitated.
The bullies, realizing Nicholas was a "crazy kid" who wouldn't back down, grumbled and retreated toward the trampolines. And the mention of a scary older sibling was enough to make the bullies hesitate. Nicholas didn't wait for them to decide. He grabbed Euijoo’s hand—tight—and pulled him away toward a quiet corner behind the giant plastic palm trees.
Once they were hidden, Silence fell between the two boys. The adrenaline had faded, Euijoo was trembling, and finally broke. Large, silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he clutched his bunny. He looked up at Nicholas, his expression filled with a sudden, painful doubt.
"Nichol..." Euijoo’s voice broke. "Do you... do you think I'm weird? Like they said?" Euijoo sobbed, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "Do you... do you think I'm a girl-boy too? Because I like pink? And because I'm soft?"
Nicholas felt a weird, sharp sting in his chest. He hated seeing Euijoo cry. It felt like someone was poking a needle into his own heart. He liked it when Euijoo was annoyed or bickering with him, but he hated it when Euijoo felt small.
"They're just stupid," Nicholas muttered, kicking at a stray plastic ball.
Nicholas dropped his tough guy stance. He reached out and grabbed Euijoo’s hand—not a cool handshake, but a firm, grounding grip.
"And who cares if you're soft?" Nicholas said, his voice unusually steady.
"But you always tease me too," Euijoo whispered, his voice small and broken. "You say I'm soft. You say I'm like a marshmallow. Do you think I'm too girly, too? Is that why you bother me all the time?"
Nicholas froze. He realized then that his rage-baiting and his teasing might have been hitting harder than he intended. He looked at Euijoo—with his soft pink sweater, his messy bowl cut, and those wide, honest eyes—and the cool guy act completely evaporated.
He stepped closer, reaching out to clumsily pat Euijoo’s head, just like he’d seen the noonas do.
"No," Nicholas said, his voice surprisingly soft. "I don't bother you because you're soft, Euijoo. I bother you because you're the only person who's kind to me even when I'm being a brat."
He took a deep breath, looking away because his own face was starting to feel hot.
"And besides... I like that you're soft. Being soft is why you're nice. The world is full of loud, mean people like those guys. If everyone was tough like me, the world would be boring and mean. If you were tough like me, who would I come to when I'm tired of being 'cool'? I like that you're like this. You're the best part of this place, Euijoo-yaa. Don't ever change, okay? I'll just fight everyone else so you don't have to."
Euijoo stopped crying. He looked at Nicholas—really looked at him—and felt a strange, warm flutter in his chest that he didn't have a name for yet. Nicholas—the boy who usually spent his days trying to annoy him—says something fiercely loyal behind those mischievous eyes. It was the first time Nicholas had ever been sincere without a joke attached.
"You... you'll protect me?" Euijoo whispered.
Nicholas turned red instantly, realizing he’d been far too sincere for a cool boy. He let go of Euijoo’s hand and quickly swiped a blue ball, chucking it at Euijoo’s chest.
"Duh! If I let those losers bully you, then who am I supposed to rage-bait?" Nicholas smirked, though his ears were burning.
Euijoo sniffled, giving a tiny, watery nod. "Okay. Then... you have to protect my bunny, too." Euijoo wiped his eyes, a small, genuine smile blooming on his face.
"Fine," Nicholas grumbled, the tsundere coming back now that the emotional moment was passing. "But the bunny has to be my second-in-command. Now come on, I almost won that cat plushie for you."
As they walked back toward the games, Euijoo kept his eyes on the back of Nicholas’s head. He didn't know it then, but that was the moment he decided he’d never let go of Nicholas’s hand—no matter how much the older boy teased him. Also the moment his heart decided Nicholas was the only person allowed to see his soft side forever.