Work Text:
Yeri wakes to an earthquake.
“Wake up! It’s shopping time!”
Yeri groans. “Stop shaking me,” she mutters, only slightly awake.
The earthquake stops.
“Come on! We gotta buy stuff to fill your room with!”
“It’s so early,” Yeri groans louder, tossing around in the comforter. “Why are you like this,” she deadpans, squinting up at an excited Irene.
Irene crosses her arms. “It is 10 AM. Get the hell out of bed,” she scolds.
“Fine.” Yeri rolls her eyes and slowly gets up, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and tossing the comforter behind her.
“You can use my bathroom to get ready. I have spare toothbrushes and towels and shit. My hairbrush is there, too. I think we’re similar makeup shades if you wanna do that as well—”
Yeri cuts her off. “No, no, it’s okay, I’ll just—let me just go.”
Irene shrugs and leaves.
“What did I get myself into,” Yeri mutters to herself.
When Yeri returns, she sees Irene sitting on a barstool, already wearing her jacket, shoes, and handbag. She perks up from her phone when she notices Yeri. “How hungry are you?”
“Honestly, not that much,” Yeri responds.
“Great! Grab a granola bar.” She tosses one to Yeri, who scrambles to catch it. “You can eat in the car. We’ll stop on the way back for a proper lunch.”
Yeri looks at her incredulously. “How in the world do you have so much energy?”
Irene gets up and starts toward the door, rattling off reasons. “Woke up at 8:30. Had a proper breakfast. It’s my day off, so I’m not dreading the passage of time. Now, come on, let’s go!” She pulls the door open, gesturing for Yeri to exit.
Yeri shakes her head in disbelief as she walks through the doorway.
Yeri sits in the passenger seat, checking her phone for any messages.
“Put your seatbelt on!” Irene chastises.
Yeri rolls her eyes, pocketing her phone and reaching for the seatbelt. “You don’t need to remind me. I’m not a kid.”
Irene hums. “You’re right…even kids don’t react to bad situations by breaking and entering,” she teases.
Yeri glares. “Be quiet.”
Irene laughs to herself as she leaves the parking lot.
They ride in silence for a few minutes until Yeri feels the need to break it.
“Why do you have an extra room anyway? Don’t you live alone?”
Irene glances at Yeri before answering. “Well, I wanted to have one for my friends in case they needed to crash at my place.”
“Oh,” Yeri responds, “won’t I be ruining that?”
Irene smiles slightly. “It’s alright. If they need to, they can just take my room, and I could take the couch.”
Yeri stares at her briefly before saying, “Irene, you’re so nice.”
She only hums in response.
“Like, why?” Yeri prompts again.
“Oh.” Irene looks perplexed. “What do you mean?”
“Well, like, I assume you’re spending extra money on your two-bed when you live alone,” she explains. “And you’re only doing that in case your friends need a place for the night. You saw a girl break into your home and invited her to stay instead of calling the police. None of that is really necessary, is it?”
Irene thinks for a few seconds before answering. “I mean, there’s no reason not to, though. Right? I just like being kind for the sake of it.”
“Right,” Yeri responds. “But, like, is anyone doing these kinds of things for you?”
Irene hums. “Well, all my friends are kind to me in the ways they can afford to be. Of course, Wendy has her house, and I’ve spent many nights there blacked out. Joy comes over on the rare occasion I have a date to do my makeup and help me choose an outfit. And Seulgi will listen to me rant for hours whenever I’ve had it with life.” She smiles softly. “But, like, why do I need to gain anything from how I help others? I do it because I want to be kind. Because I love my friends. Because you looked so unhappy. Just because, you know?”
Yeri looks at her for a second before smiling and turning to rest her head on the window.
Irene parks along the curb and turns the car off. “We’re here!” she exclaims.
“I’ve genuinely never seen anyone so excited to be at a supermarket,” Yeri laughs.
They walk past the automatic doors, and Irene pulls a shopping cart for them. “Ah, I love the smell of Target,” she sighs happily.
Yeri heavily side-eyes her. “You’re so strange. Is this an old person thing?”
“No,” Irene huffs, “I just appreciate the small things in life! Now, come on, I made a list,” she says, angling her phone so Yeri can see.
“Damn,” Yeri says in slight disbelief. “Where are you even getting the money to shop for me like this?” she asks as they walk down the main walkway.
“Rainy day fund,” Irene answers simply.
“Wow,” Yeri teases, “you’re such an adult.”
Irene rolls her eyes. “No, I’m just responsible. Also, you’re literally an adult, too,” she adds.
“Yeah,” Yeri concedes, “but, like, barely. Like a just-out-of-college adult. Like, how old are you? You haven’t told me yet.”
“31.”
Yeri stops in her tracks in front of a clothing rack. “What.”
Irene narrows her eyes. “Be quiet. Go choose three outfits, a couple hoodies, and some work outfits. Mind the prices a bit, please.”
Yeri complies but doesn’t stop questioning her. “No, but, like, seriously? Are you fucking with me right now?”
“No,” Irene deadpans. “Shut up.”
Yeri browses through the jeans display. “Wait, okay, but—wow. You look so much younger. I was gonna guess, like, 26. Joy is 26, though?” she asks as she places the clothes in the cart.
Irene’s face lights up. “Joy, huh?” she smirks.
Yeri’s face reddens. “Be quiet! How old are the other two?” She picks up a few t-shirts and brings them to the cart.
“They’re both 28.”
The confusion has not left Yeri’s face as she places the last items in the cart. “Why is your friend group so diverse in age?”
Irene explains as they walk toward the next section. “They were all in undergrad when I went back for my masters. I met Wendy first when I was TA-ing for one of her classes, and then she introduced me to the other two since they were all neighbors.”
“You were Wendy’s TA? Was that when you started dating?” Yeri asks, puzzled.
Irene laughs drily as they reach the makeup section. “Oh, congrats, you figured it out. Go get some makeup. And face lotion and chapstick, please; your skin looks like sandpaper,” she adds, gesturing toward the skincare rack.
“Be quiet.” Yeri rolls her eyes. “Also, I’m not that dumb. I said, ‘babe?’ and you said, ‘not anymore.’ I think that’s pretty clear.”
Irene shrugs, watching Yeri pick out her products. “Took you a few hours, though.”
“Shut up.” Yeri puts the items in the cart.
Irene rolls the cart away. “Yeah, we started dating the year she left Velvet. Broke up, like, four years ago? Nothing major, we were both just too busy for each other. Really only got to meet on ladies’ nights.”
Yeri hums. “She seems really cool,” she responds.
Irene smiles happily. “She is. She bought that house all on her own last year. She has some big corporate consulting job that I’ll never understand, but clearly, she’s living pretty comfortably with it.”
Yeri furrows her eyebrows. “Business major?” she asks, mildly disgusted.
Irene’s smile drops. “Sort of, unfortunately. It’s at least a bit cooler than that,” she responds. “Go get your toiletries; I’ll grab towels, toilet paper, and paper towels.”
Yeri moves to find her shower products. “What class were you even TA-ing for? You didn’t do business, right?”
“Oh, god no.” Irene looks terrified at the idea. “It was a math course I had taken during my undergrad.”
Yeri turns sharply, holding her chosen items. “Math! You’re a math person?” she asks excitedly. “Wait, what are your degrees even in?”
Irene smiles, looking back from where she was choosing towels. “B.S. in chemistry, M.S. in biochemistry. Not too much of a math person, but I’m enough of one to TA for basic calculus.”
Yeri brings places what she chose in the cart, smiling widely. “I love chem!”
“You are maybe the first person who’s ever responded to that in a positive way,” Irene laughs, adding the larger items to the cart.
Yeri continues happily as they move toward the next section. “I had to do chem all the time! I did environmental engineering,” she beams. “Chem is so fun!”
“Oh my god, I always heard about my engineering friends suffering,” Irene shudders.
Yeri shrugs. “Sometimes, but I love it,” she smiles.
Irene grins. “You’re so cute, Yeri.”
Yeri’s smile drops, glaring at a pleased Irene. “Okay, be quiet now.”
Irene laughs, throwing her head back. She points to the shelf beside them. “Go grab a hairbrush; I’ll go get the smaller things.”
“You’re so organized,” Yeri starts as she looks through the shelf. “How are we already, like, halfway through the list?”
“I prioritize efficiency,” Irene says proudly.
Yeri snorts. “You sound like a mom.”
Irene glares. “Shut up and put your things in the cart, please.”
Yeri grins and does as Irene asked.
Irene glances at her phone as they walk away. “Alright, we have electronics, college, and pharmacy left.”
Yeri pouts jokingly. “Why are you taking me back to college?”
Irene puts on her best fake laugh. “Okay, go choose some earbuds. What kind of phone do you have?”
Yeri pulls her phone out to show Irene. “Galaxy A14…something, I don’t really know. It’s a USB-C.”
Irene gasps. “Android user! I’ve found an ally,” she grins.
Yeri laughs in response. “You’re also so cute, unnie. Can I call you unnie?”
Irene’s face turns solemn. “You’ve passed the Android test,” she jokes. “Of course you can.”
Yeri laughs again as they add the electronics to the cart.
“Alright, next!” Irene says as they head to the college section. “Okay, you’re gonna find a notepad, pens, and a book. I’ll look for the rest. Let’s go!”
Yeri’s expression twists. “Why would I even need a notepad?”
Irene looks up from a side shelf. “To write stuff down.”
Yeri furrows her eyebrows as she sifts through the pen bin. “I have a phone for that.”
Irene turns back around. “Just trust me.”
Yeri rolls her eyes. “Alright, whatever you say. I think you might just be old,” she says as she returns to the cart.
“Be quiet!” Irene places the items she gathered in the bottom layer of the cart. “Your bed has drawers so you can fold your clothes and put them in there. The hampers there are for dirty clothes and laundry.”
Yeri laughs. “Okay, Mom,” she retorts.
Irene points her finger at her, quite mom-like, if she’s being honest. “I will slap you.”
“That’s child abu—oh my god, this is so cute!” Yeri interrupts herself and picks an elephant plushy off of a nearby shelf. “I’m getting this,” she states with finality.
Irene looks at her, unimpressed. “What happened to, ‘I’m not a kid?’”
“Plushies do not have an age limit!” Yeri huffs.
Irene rolls her eyes. “Fine, but you’re paying for that one.”
Yeri glares. “What, are we going to make the cashier’s day worse? Gonna make them do a split-check situation?”
Irene slaps her lightly on the arm she’s holding the plushy in. “It’s barely a split check. You can literally just pay after me.”
Yeri groans. “Whatever.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Irene chides. “Okay, last section! You’re not allergic to anything, right?”
“Pollen,” Yeri responds. “Otherwise, no.”
“Okay, good.” Irene starts down the medicine aisle. “Go find your allergy medicine and Advil, and I’ll grab some Dayquil and Nyquil for you.”
Yeri goes, still in disbelief at Irene’s thorough preparation for a mere shopping trip. “You’re seriously so good at planning. Why are you so good at this?”
“I live alone,” Irene deadpans. “I do this for myself all the time.”
“Oh, right. Well, you don’t live alone anymore,” Yeri adds happily.
Irene smiles in response as they both put the last items in the cart. “Put the elephant in, too.”
Yeri raises her eyebrows. “I thought I was paying?”
Irene rolls her eyes and snatches the plushy wordlessly, putting it in the cart.
Yeri grins.
“I feel so sorry for the poor cashier who has to help us with this,” Irene says, looking at their very full shopping cart.
Yeri lights up. “I’ll put the stuff in the bags! I used to love doing that when I was little.”
Irene looks at her, judgment covering her face. “And you call me strange,” she quips.
The cashier’s eyes widen as they pull into the checkout line. “Wow, you guys have been busy! Moving?”
“She is,” Irene points to Yeri, smiling. “She’s moving in with me.”
The cashier smiles. “Oh, how cute! Girlfriends?”
Irene laughs. “No, just friends. Very recently, actually. She tried to break—”
Yeri abruptly covers Irene’s mouth with her hand, smiling at the cashier placatingly. “We met through a mutual friend. I needed a place to stay, and she offered, so, you know.” She turns to glare at Irene.
The cashier looks slightly worried but continues to scan in silence.
“Why are you so intent on telling that to every single person you see,” Yeri whispers angrily, finally removing her hand to see Irene still smiling.
“Because it’s hilarious!” Irene snickers.
“I will kill you,” Yeri glares, expression as sharp as the knife she brought into the apartment.
Irene grins wider. “Wouldn’t put it past you. You’re basically already a criminal. Maybe Joy was right—”
“Stop!” Yeri whisper-shouts, her face red.
Irene chuckles. “I’m having too much fun with this. We need to get you guys to meet again soon.”
Yeri rolls her eyes. “I’d rather not.”
Irene smirks. “Don’t lie to yourself like that.”
The cashier interrupts their hushed bickering. “Alright! I assume you want bags?” she asks, pointing to the mess at the end of the counter.
Yeri jumps to the bagging area. “I got it!” she exclaims.
The cashier turns back to Irene, very confused.
“Just let her. I don’t know why she wants to do it so bad,” Irene explains.
The cashier shrugs. “Fine by me. Your total, with the bags and tax, is $684.44.”
Irene sighs loudly, glaring at Yeri for a few seconds before swiping her card. She thanks the cashier and moves to help Yeri with carrying the bags.
They walk toward the car, which Irene smartly parked right by the entrance. “I spent almost $700 on you. You better be thankful,” she complains as they put the bags away.
“Yeah, that was kinda insane. How much do you keep in that rainy-day?”
“Fifteen hundred,” Irene shrugs. “Cause, like, just in case.”
Yeri closes the back door. “I’ll help you build it back up. To, like, be nice or something,” she adds.
“Aww, they grow up so fast!” Irene jokes.
“Shut up.” Yeri sits in the passenger seat.
Irene starts the car after sitting down, turning to Yeri. “But seriously, thank you,” she says sincerely.
Yeri hums. “Of course.” It’s the least she could do.