Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Euijoo was awake before the sun, as usual. 

The air inside his cabin was warm and still, the distinct scent of wood being one of the first things his senses picked up as he stirred. A quick glance at the digital clock sitting atop the small table next to his bed let him know what time it was, the red numbers reading 6:01 am. He realized then that he didn’t have his phone with him. If he did, it would’ve started playing the usual tinkling chimes at him at exactly 6:00 am. But it seemed his body was conditioned enough by now to have its own internal clock set up, dragging him out of sleep at this hour out of sheer habit. 

Euijoo knew where his phone would be. He had a vivid memory of putting it in his locker at the start of the day on Saturday, like always, but he must not have retrieved it at the end. Must have been too eager to shower and get into bed, knowing he wouldn’t have any schedule to keep on Sunday. He did recall feeling particularly fatigued after the evening meeting Saturday. Case in point, yesterday was an obscure timelapse of being in and out of consciousness, the kind of drunk sleep you weren’t sure where it began or ended – his preferred way to spend his designated off day. 

Euijoo stretched his arms up above his head, fingers bumping against the headboard, a squeaky grunt leaving the back of his throat. 

Since he wasn’t on cabin duty this morning, theoretically he had more time for himself than usual. He could lay in bed for a while, go for a morning swim, watch the sunrise…

He could, but he wasn’t going to. Not sticking to his usual routine would only throw him off. All the extra hour meant was he had time for his weekly phone call with his mom, which was basically also routine. 

He flipped the covers off of himself, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The smooth wooden floor was warm against the soles of his bare feet. Hoisting himself up, he padded over to the small bathroom to wash up and brush his teeth. Once that was done, he came back out and took the set of freshly washed, folded up clothes from the top of his dresser and brought them over to the bed. 

He pulled his white sleep tee over his head, replacing it with the red one that qualified as his work uniform – the words Camp Wolf Lake on the front and COUNSELOR on the back. He followed suit with the bottoms, switching out his blue-and-white checkered pajama pants for khaki-colored cargo shorts. He pulled a black belt through the loops and fastened it snug around his waist, dropping the end of the t-shirt back over it when he was done and pulling on a pair of socks.

He then went over to the small desk by the door, stepping into the pair of sneakers he kept there before swiping up the orange lanyard with his ID and clipping it to his pocket. He grabbed up the clipboard his schedule was on and then his jacket from where he’d flung it onto the back of the desk chair. It was camp-issued, lightweight and also red, with the same wording on the front and back as his shirt. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere near it by the time it was noon, but it helped to combat the early morning chill. He tucked the clipboard underneath his arm to push his hand through one of the sleeves, pausing to swipe up a baseball cap (also Camp Wolf Lake) from the desk’s surface and slap it onto his head. It was easier than dealing with the horrendous bedhead he was sporting right now.

He removed the clipboard, opened the door with his free hand, and stopped in his tracks.

There was a guy standing in front of his cabin, one foot on the bottom stair like he had been about to come up.

A surprised noise tried to fight its way out of Euijoo’s throat, but he forced it back down just in time. 

All the campers were still asleep, and the staff would only just be waking up, busying themselves with getting ready and making their own preparations for the day ahead. Even though the counselors all stayed on the same side of the grounds, it was rare for Euijoo to run into anyone else before making it to the staff cabin, or the mess hall.

Whoever this was, in a white T-shirt and black hoodie and wide, dark shorts that came down to his knees, he certainly didn’t look like a staff member. And he was definitely too old to be a camper.

He seemed surprised too, and that was based on the slightly parted lips as he stared up at Euijoo and not because Euijoo could see it in his eyes. Because he couldn’t see his eyes – not really. The beanie he was wearing was pulled down so low it covered his eyebrows completely. The dark bangs that poked out underneath were grazing his lashes.

Euijoo blinked at him as he took his foot off the step in one languid motion. 

“Are you EJ?” His voice was soft, deep. Tired?

“Yes?” Euijoo worked his other arm into his still-dangling jacket sleeve, sparing a quick glance at the campgrounds. The early morning fog hung low and translucent grey over the treetops. Still no one around. No one to come to his immediate aid if this guy turned out to be a camp killer on the loose like some Asian Jason Voorhees. Euijoo made sure to hang close to his open door, just in case.

“Fuma told me to come find you.”

Euijoo’s eyebrows lifted, his mounting suspicions dissolving at the mention of the Lead Counselor’s name. “Oh! Really? Uh, what for?”

The boy shrugged, the action looking like it felt like a chore. He blinked slowly up at Euijoo, saying nothing else, and Euijoo had to wonder if he was half asleep or just disinterested.

Euijoo tried for a smile. “Okay, um…” He fished in his shorts pocket for his cabin key and turned around, armpitting the clipboard once more to pull his door closed and lock it. Once that was done, and the key repocketed, he clunked down the wooden stairs. “Let me go see what this is about. I’ll be right back, okay?”

This time there wasn’t even a shrug. The guy pushed his hands into his own pockets and slouched into himself, evidently tucking in to wait, still watching Euijoo with dark eyes he couldn’t really see.

“Okay…” Some of that uneasy feeling was creeping back in. Not quite in an ‘am-I-about-to-be-murdered?’ kind of way, but kind of in an ‘is-this-guy-going-to- plot-my-murder?’ kind of way. Like he wasn’t in any danger right now, but he might be later.

The smile felt heavier on Euijoo’s face as he sidled awkwardly past the shadowy obstacle partially blocking the space in front of his stairs (that made no attempt to move, by the way). Euijoo tried really hard not to brush against him without making it obvious that’s what he was doing. He managed at the expense of some of his composure. His smile turned into more of a concentrated grimace during the maneuvering, reappearing only when he finally stepped down onto the dewy grass.

“Okay, just- wait here, uh… what’s your name?” When he spoke to Fuma, he should have something to refer to him as that wasn’t frowning beanie guy in front of my cabin.

“Nicholas.”

Euijoo nodded. “Nicholas.”

“I’m the new camp counselor.”

Euijoo barely stopped himself from going bug-eyed and blurting, YOU? 

Barely.

“Y-oh. Really? Okay, well, I’m… I’m gonna go see what’s going on.”

He turned around and forced himself to walk down the path, even though he felt Nicholas watching him, making the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably. When he hung a left at the halfway point, and he was sure he was out of sight, that was when he broke into a studious jog the rest of the way to the staff cabin. 

☀️

Euijoo took the steps up to the staff cabin two at a time, pausing before he entered to look down and check the watch that only ever left his wrist when he was showering, bouncing on the balls of his feet. It was 6:37. Good. More than enough time to get this situation sorted. Wake up call wasn’t even until 7:00. After that, there would be so much activity – kids buzzing, announcements happening, staff at work – that there wouldn’t be time for anything.

He pushed the handle down and stepped in.

The staff cabin was set up to both function as and resemble a lounge. There was a large black fridge tucked against the far wall, a vending machine, and a couple of round, wooden tables with matching stools. A sitting area with couches and a coffee table on top of a rug was on the room’s left side. To the right was a mini cafe-style bar that staff members could order non-alcoholic drinks and food items from during their breaks. A few glass-framed plaques hung on the back wall, displaying the camp’s history, mission statement, certifications, and achievements in cursive black.

The air in the room was stuffy and already a little warm, even though the sun had barely started to lighten the sky. It was as though the thick wooden logs that made up the structure held all the heat from days previous no matter what time of day it was. That, and there was no AC. A wooden ceiling fan hung still in the center of the room, but the counselors rarely even bothered with it anymore. Its pitiful spinning was no match for the heat. 

Fuma sat at one of the tables, head ducked over a handful of papers spread out over the surface. He was wearing a pair of silver-framed glasses and sporting a pretty serious reading frown, one hand loosely clutched around a small paper cup of water from the dispenser in the corner of the room. An open backpack sat on the stool next to him.

When he heard Euijoo enter and glanced up, a brilliant smile lit up his face.

“Euijoo-kun, good morning!” he chirped, as always bright-eyed with a positive attitude even before the sun came up.

Euijoo knew he would find him here rather than in his own cabin. Fuma was more of an early starter than he was, often coming here first thing in the morning before things got going to sit at one of the tables and triple check his list of responsibilities for the day. And that was after one of his typical morning workout sessions, which it looked like he had done given the sleeveless tank and basketball shorts he was wearing.

Where he found the time or energy Euijoo had no idea. He himself had to schedule in time to drink water during the day so he didn’t pass out from dehydration because he forgot, which almost happened once or twice.

Fuma was just diligent like that, even before becoming a Lead Counselor. It was probably why he’d been made one.

Euijoo gave him a quick, habitual bow in greeting. “Good morning, Fuma-san. So—”

“Did you meet Nicholas?”

“—I met Nicholas.”

“Oh!” Fuma perked up, chuckling at their overlapping words. He pulled off his reading glasses and set them on the table with a clack. “That’s good. And is everything okay?”

“…Yeah…”

Euijoo couldn’t deny he felt a slight tinge of disappointment that Fuma knew exactly what he was talking about. He was secretly hoping that he’d have no idea, and then all they’d have to deal with was a potential madman who’d wandered his way onto the campgrounds somehow. A modern-day Friday the 13th situation. No big deal.

“It’s just, I wasn’t really expecting a new counselor at this point in the summer.”

Fuma nodded. “I know. Camp’s been in session a couple weeks already, but we still feel like… wait.” He paused, scrutinizing Euijoo’s expression. “You got my message on Saturday, didn’t you?”

Euijoo blinked. “I… haven’t looked at my phone since that morning. I didn’t get to check it yesterday, and it’s just been in my locker. I was planning to check it this morning before things got going, but then…”

But then there was frowning beanie guy in front of my cabin.

Euijoo trailed off as the look of surprised realization grew stronger and stronger on Fuma’s face. He clapped a hand over his mouth dramatically, eyes blowing wide.

“Ah, Euijoo… ahh, I didn’t know! Well, I guess I should have when I didn’t get a response from you right away like usual, but it was after the staff meeting on Saturday and it was late, so I figured you were just tired or maybe already in bed. And that you’d see it during your day off yesterday.”

Euijoo had been too busy being dead to the world for most of it for that. He briefly pondered the biology behind sleeping for nearly sixteen hours straight and still feeling tired.

“I pretty much slept the whole day in my cabin. Didn’t see any message,” he confessed sheepishly.

“I’m sorry.”

Euijoo shook his head, confusion drawing his eyebrows together. Why was Fuma apologizing?

“No, it’s fine. Really, I was just surprised that he was looking for me this morning. And to find out he’s a new team member.”

Fuma’s eyebrows lifted, an expectant expression smoothing out his features. “So he did tell you. You’ll do it then?”

“Do what?”

“Be Nicholas’ trainer.”

The words walloped Euijoo in the chest, but he felt like he schooled his expression better this time.

“Ah. Well… yes. Of course I can do that.”

What else was he supposed to say? 'Hell no, I won’t do it. That guy scares me?' He’d been praised for being “exceptionally responsible, reliable, and dependable” in his mid-summer and end-of-summer evaluations before — by Fuma. There was no other option here but to smile and say yes.

Fuma, for his part, looked relieved. Probably because he didn’t have to scramble to find someone else to do it on such short notice. That alone was enough to make Euijoo depuff a little bit. 

Was he wary about this? Absolutely. Did he want to do it? Not really. He had a full plate as it was. But between a larger volume of campers this year and less returning counselors than they had anticipated, the staff were admittedly stretched a little thin. Fuma himself was balancing being both a Counseling Lead and a Ropes Facilitator for their Outdoor Adventure program. Knowing doing this would be helping him out, maybe taking some of the load off the other Lead Counselors and Program Organizers, who already had their hands full supervising and making schedules for everyone, respectively, made Euijoo want to give it his best despite his qualms about it. For the sake of the team.

“It’s a really big help, Euijoo,” Fuma commented, as if sensing where his train of thought was. He began gathering his schedule papers back together. “After Kyungmin couldn’t come back at the last minute, well you know, he was supposed to be your co-counselor, so it left a big slot open. We’ve been managing fine splitting up the responsibilities, rearranging activities, and filling in the gaps and such. Everyone’s adapting really well, and you’ve been doing an excellent job managing your campers on your own. But I think if there was someone who could fill the role well and help you out, it’s better to get them in sooner rather than later. Nicholas was the perfect fit. K thought so, too.”

Perfect compared to what, exactly? Euijoo snarked in his head.

He thought back to the vision of apathy he’d met in front of his cabin – all soft frowns and dead eyes and dark colors and monotone speech. That guy didn’t exactly scream camp counselor. In fact, he was like an entire juxtaposition to everything a camp counselor was supposed to be. In essence their job was to be sunny, enthusiastic, preppy if you will. Nicholas looked like he ate preppy for breakfast.

He tuned back into Fuma, having gotten lost in his train of thought.

The other man was standing now, zipping up his bag and swinging it over his shoulder.

“We were going through some older applications, I came across his, we gave him a virtual interview, he said he could start right away, and here we are. Honestly, it was kind of like fate. You know, I recommended you specifically to be his trainer.”

Euijoo perked up. “Why me?”

“Because you’re so reliable.”

There it was. Euijoo wondered if it would ever end up being a problem: being perceived as someone who effortlessly had his shit together. He did not. It could be said he held his shit in place, if anything; and it most certainly was not effortless. It was at the cost of an enormous amount of energy and a brief stress cry in a vacant cabin every now and then. And it wasn’t just at camp, it was the story of his life. Even back in college he moved the same way, like a smiling zombie, just without the lanyard and the clipboard. It was like meeting goals in the way he wanted meant sacrificing sleep, barely making deadlines, and then not having time for anything else.

Don’t get him wrong. He loved being a counselor. It was rewarding – the kind of hard work that left him exhausted but happy. He slept better at the end of a long day because he felt fulfilled despite his drained social battery and tired body.

He just always worried that one day someone would have expectations for him that he couldn’t meet, be it here or anywhere.

“And guess what?” continued Fuma, pulling him out of his thoughts for a second time. “You two are the same age. Isn’t that a coincidence? I thought you might get along well with each other.”

Euijoo smiled tightly. “I’ll do my best.” Fuma strode over and clapped him on the back with a force that almost knocked him over.

“Atta boy, Juju. I knew you were the right guy to ask.”

Euijoo rolled his eyes, subtly massaging his now-aching shoulder. “Only the kids call me that.”

Fuma grinned big enough to show his teeth. “But it’s cute.” Euijoo gave him a look, so Fuma held his hands up and stepped back. “Alright, alright. I texted you all you need to know for your first day of training. It’s nothing fancy. Your main group and schedule haven’t changed. All I really want Nicholas to do is observe you today – see what you’re doing, get a feel for the way things work. Like being your shadow.”

Well, he’s already one of those.

“So, you don’t even have to do much really. Just do what you usually do and answer his questions if he has any. Maybe explain things here or there if you have time, or during meals. Otherwise, we’ll figure out the next steps during the meeting tonight. But like always, you can let me know if you have questions about anything.”

“Right.”

“Do you have any questions now?”

“Um… hold on.”

Euijoo jogged over to his locker, light grey and lined up with the others against the back left wall. He twisted open the combination lock and extracted the phone he hadn’t seen since before work on Saturday. He unlocked it and tapped the latest message from Fuma. It sat unread in his recent messages, right under a text from his mom and another from a college friend.

Wow. Fuma really did text him everything he needed to know. Maybe more than he needed to know. The guy didn’t type like any twenty-something he’d ever met. More like a Wikipedia article with all his block paragraphs and, to be fair, correct usage of things like colons and asterisks. It was useful, though, explaining in detail the steps he needed to take from now until the evening as far as Nicholas was concerned, all working around his duties as a counselor. It really wasn’t anything overbearing.

“No,” Euijoo confirmed, turning back to Fuma. “No, not right now. I think… yes, everything is fine.”

“Okay, good… I am sorry this is all being thrown at you at the last minute. If you want, I can see if somebody else can take over after today.”

Euijoo was fast to shake his head. He wanted to do his part and show Fuma that he wasn’t wrong to think of him. “Nah,” he grinned. “Can you imagine Harua training anybody?”

As sweet and gentle as their blonde team member was with children, it was well-known amongst the other counselors that he did not possess that same level of patience for adults.

Fuma barked a laugh. “It would be a shame to have to start a missing person’s investigation for poor Nicholas, ah… alright, I’m off to shower and change. Good luck!”

Fuma pumped a fist and exited the cabin, leaving Euijoo alone.

He blew out a stream of air into the silence, looking back down and using his thumb to flick through the fat text message boxes again, trying not to pay attention to the light anxiety he felt bubbling in his stomach. It was lucky he wasn’t one of the counselors who had bunk duty last night and had to wake up their campers this morning – in about ten minutes, actually. He still had some time to gather himself, get back to Nicholas, and get him situated. But come breakfast time, his batch of kids would be turned over to him for the day, and then he had to be locked in. Full counselor mode.

Well, counselor and trainer mode now.

Did he even have a trainer mode? He didn’t know. But if not, he needed to find it soon.

He glanced at his clipboard, tucked into the crook of his elbow all this time, so habitually he barely noticed its presence anymore. He flipped haphazardly through the pages and pages of his very full itinerary, wondering how the hell he was going to fit in any adequate training on top of it.

He went back to his phone and this time read the information slower, trying to home in on the most relevant parts.

Nicholas Wang. Born July 9th, 2002. 

They really were the same age.

Nicholas was to be under Euijoo’s supervision today, accompanying him on all schedules with his assigned group of campers, including mealtimes and the evening staff meeting. He was to observe the campers’ activities and assist with small duties if necessary.

Nicholas was to be given a uniform and locker key. His locker was #033, which was Kyungmin’s old locker. Which was…

Euijoo glanced up.

…right next to his own.

Great.

No, no.

He wasn’t being fair.

He wasn’t trying to be pessimistic, really. First impressions were important, but they weren’t always perfect. He knew that from personal experience.

During his first week as a counselor two years ago, Euijoo led his campers to the wrong activity four different times, and all the little eyes staring at him made him so nervous that he often lost his train of thought in the middle of his sentences. The next day, he was pleasantly surprised to find that neither his campers nor the other counselors or leads were fed up with him and all his bumbling. The kids found him funny, and his peers had patience and wanted to help him improve.

Maybe he and Nicholas didn’t have the best first interaction, but there was no reason he shouldn’t get the benefit of the doubt, too. Maybe his stormy expressions were just a byproduct of being tired. It was early, after all. Maybe his mumbling and lack of complete sentences were because he was nervous himself. Maybe he just liked… black.

Nicholas deserved the benefit of the doubt. And Euijoo owed it to him to be the best damn trainer he could be.

“Okay,” he said aloud, locking his phone and placing it in his locker before pulling open the one next to it. Just as the message said, inside was a yellow combination lock and tiny brass key sitting atop a neatly folded Camp Wolf Lake shirt, hat, and a pair of khaki shorts. Identical to Euijoo’s getup, sans the jacket.

The lanyard and jacket were fully-fledged counselor rights only.

Euijoo gathered the articles of clothing and left the lock and key inside, shutting the door with his elbow.

He let himself fall into his counselor persona: 25% more smiley, 25% more attentive, and 50% more enthusiastic about life.

He was Camp Euijoo now.

And Camp Euijoo had this shit on lock. 

☀️

“HI AGAIN!”

Nicholas startled from where he was sitting on the steps to Euijoo’s cabin. Euijoo winced, pulling up to a stop. “Sorry.”

Okay, maybe dial down the enthusiasm a little bit.

He offered a smile as Nicholas cautiously stood up, watching him a bit like a cat that was deciding if it should bolt from a new, strange person or stick around to see if it had food.

“Um. So, I spoke with Fuma, and everything’s in order. I’ll be training you from today.” He held out the folded-up clothing in his arms. Nicholas took them, hands briefly brushing against the backs of Euijoo’s. Euijoo stepped back, crossed his arms, remembered it was a pose that made one appear closed off (advice given during his own counselor training), and dropped them stiffly to his sides instead. “This is your uniform. Sort of. It’s a T-shirt and shorts, but we call it a uniform. Also a hat, because it gets really sunny. Speaking of, there’s communal sunscreen in the mess hall. And little travel-sized ones in the staff lounge that you can take, too, if you want.”

He remembered something he’d read in Fuma’s text messages.

“Fuma mentioned you were put up in one of the counselor cabins already?” Nicholas nodded, a subtle motion. He twisted, pointing in a vague eastward direction.

“Yeah, I dropped my stuff in it earlier, right around there.”

Nicholas’ voice was indeed as quiet as it had been before. Euijoo didn’t know if it was because his voice was so deep, or if he was just soft-spoken by nature, but he had to concentrate to hear him over the chirping of the birds that were starting to wake up in the trees.

Euijoo clapped his hands together. “Okay, great! So once you get changed, please meet me in the staff cabin. It’s just this way and down the path to the left. It’s this big log cabin, you can’t miss it. I need to show you your locker and give you a quick run down.”

Euijoo considered offering to wait for him to change and then walking him over, but thought lingering around might be uncomfortable - for Euijoo. Maybe for Nicholas, too. Plus, he didn’t want Nicholas to feel rushed. Euijoo always felt rushed when he knew people were waiting on him. 

They were short on time, though. So maybe Nicholas should feel a little bit rushed, actually. Euijoo checked his watch again.

“Sure, I know it,” Nicholas said. It made sense he would have some basic knowledge of the grounds. They had a map of it on their website, all colorful and labeled and everything. It matched the one displayed on the sign next to the flagpole, in the mess hall, and on the outside of several miscellaneous buildings across camp. It should’ve been in Nicholas’ on-boarding package, too, if that step wasn’t skipped in the last-minute haste.

Just then a loud, drawn-out horn sound rang across the grounds. Nicholas turned his head in the general direction and squinted like it was doing him a personal offense.

“What the hell is that?”

“You like it?” Euijoo grinned. He was kind of an expert on explaining camp things. “It signals the start of wake-up call. Right now the counselors on bunk duty will start getting their campers up. We used to have a bell before, but I think this is so much better, don’t you? It’s more campy.”

Nicholas hugged his clothes to his chest, squinting against the rich orange sunlight finally starting to poke up over the horizon and douse everything – the grass, dirt paths, the cabins, the sides of their faces – in its fiery glow. “It’s loud.”

“Yeah, but so are kids,” Euijoo shrugged. “Actually, I think- no, I know- they’ve got this thing beat on their most energetic days. So, you know, brace yourself for that.” Euijoo tried to subtly gauge his reaction. Someone with a disdain for noise wouldn’t survive as a camp counselor, and it was better to know now if Nicholas was going to realize he made a mistake in his choice of summer job and run for the hills. They could save time that would otherwise be spent training him and getting him acclimated to the kids. 

And save money. Jackets were expensive these days.

Unfortunately, Euijoo couldn’t tell if he was having a revelation or not. Nicholas simply sniffed and went on to look just as disgruntled as he always did, squinting against the sunlight. 

“Okay, well, I’ll see you in a bit.” Euijoo turned to go but then stopped. “Oh, and please refrain from using any and all profanity during camp hours. Each offense in a quarter in the swear jar.”

“There’s a swear jar?”

“Yep, in the staff cabin. It’s a thing among the counselors. It helps to discourage slip ups around the campers.” He pointed at Nicholas jokingly, lifting an eyebrow and pretending to sound stern. “‘Hell’ counts, by the way, so I’ll expect your contribution by the end of the day.”

“…”

Euijoo lowered his finger. “That was a joke.”

“Oh.”

“About you making a contribution, not about the swear jar. There actually is one of those.”

“Got it.”

“...”

“...”

“Okay, well… see you around, partner!”

To say Euijoo fled from the scene might be an overstatement. 

It also wasn’t inaccurate. 

☀️

For the second time that morning, Euijoo made haste to the staff cabin. On most days, it was a space that allowed some reprieve, from the outside world and from the busy days of camp life, for what little time he and the other counselors got to spend in it during their jam-packed schedules. The dark oak wood that made up the structure did an excellent job muffling the ever-present sounds of activity outside. It was the perfect place to drop the counselor persona for a minute, take a much-needed breather, maybe get in a power nap if you were lucky and timed your minutes right. 

It was good for all those things. Right now, though, it was the perfect place for Euijoo to hide from his own bungled attempts at pleasant social interaction.

He burst into the cabin, making the screen door clatter noisily. As soon as he was in, he leaned back against it and squeezed his eyes shut.

Alright. No more attempts to make jokes around Nicholas then. Clearly, that wasn’t the move. 

Whenever his campers didn’t laugh at his quips - something he wasn’t proud to admit was a semi-normal occurrence – at least their blank stares didn’t make him want to dig himself a hole outside and jump into it. Kids were gonna stare – whether they liked you or not, that was just how they were. One day they appreciated your beetle analogy, the next they didn’t. Such was life. Their eyes were like those little laser pointers professors used during lectures: obvious but harmless. You couldn’t feel them, they couldn’t hurt you. There was a strange comfort in that. 

Nicholas’ stare, on the other hand, had some heft to it. Euijoo felt like he could still feel the weight of it even some distance away now. 

Dear God, how was he going to survive today? 

Another thought jumped out at him.

See you later, PARTNER? Why the hell did he say that?

Euijoo pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes, not quite managing to suppress a groan. This was gonna be a long day. Longer than usual, he could feel it. Maybe he shouldn’t completely rule out taking Fuma up on his offer to seek someone else out for this task at the end of it. If it was going to be like this the whole time – Euijoo fumbling and Nicholas… being that way – neither one of them would benefit much from this arrangement. 

There came a tiny beep – the sound of an ID being swiped at the vending machine.

Euijoo took his hands from his eyes, blinking away the bright spots to look across the cabin. He hadn’t even noticed anyone else was in here, too distracted with trying not to have a crisis before breakfast. 

Yuma, one of the counselors for the Claw Division – the older kids – stood in front of the vending machine. He was in the same counselor clothes, a neon green lanyard hanging off one hip, tied through one of his belt loops. The way his head hung a little lower, dark hair obscuring his eyes, indicated that he wasn’t fully awake yet. He jammed his thumb against a button to make a selection, and Euijoo didn’t even have to look to see what it was. Canned coffee. 

The lounge bar didn’t open until 1pm, so Yuma – caffeine fiend that he was – had to resort to other measures to get a fix this early. The mess hall actually didn’t serve coffee since it was buffet style and not to order – all the drinks pre-packaged or in dispensers – so it was the easiest way to ensure none of the kids got their hands on it. Didn’t want them bouncing off the walls or buzzing through activities. They’d be even harder to corral. 

Euijoo peeled himself off the door and power-walked over to his shorter coworker, who hadn’t looked over at Euijoo yet, even though he must have known he was there. The squeaky creak the screen door emitted when opened made entering the lounge unnoticed an impossibility. Never mind the way Euijoo had all but catapulted himself inside. Yuma’s head dropped lower, tracking the can of coffee as it thunked to the bottom of the machine, rolling into sight at the bottom.

Euijoo came up behind him and poked him in the back by way of greeting. 

“Did you know we got a new counselor?”

Yuma’s reaction was akin to that of a roly-poly, shrinking away from the touch and curling into himself to wait for the nuisance to go away. 

“Mmnn,” he grumbled. “Euijoo, please. I was asleep literally twenty minutes ago.” 

Euijoo continued like he hadn’t heard, coming around to Yuma’s other side to lean against the vending machine. Right in his line of sight, rendering his roly-poly defense futile.

“Fuma and K hired a new counselor, and I’m supposed to be training him. But I was not prepared to train anyone today. New people are usually trained before camp starts, right? That’s what orientation week is for. But Nicholas – that’s his name, Nicholas – just got here, like literally I think this morning, so I don’t know. I mean, Fuma says to just let him shadow me today, but I feel like I need to say some things to him, right? Like I need to do some teaching, ‘cause I can’t just ignore him all day. That’d be weird. I need to be a trainer. But to do that while leading the activities– I didn’t plan for that. How do I fit that in? Plus I really need to focus on the kids. They can tell when you’re not paying attention to them, you know, and, and… are you listening?”

Yuma hadn’t so much as moved while he rambled – not even a noncommittal ‘mmhm’ throughout the whole spiel. Euijoo scrutinized the side of his face, almost reaching over to push the hair out of his eyes and check if he’d fallen asleep standing up.

But then, in a voice still thick with tiredness: “Listening, yeah. Hearing?” Yuma trailed off, opening the slim can in his hand, the sharp crack of the top like a punctuation mark. 

Euijoo frowned as he took a sip. “Yuma…” 

Yuma swallowed and flicked his wavy fringe out of his face to cast him a sideways look. The soft bluish light from the vending machine caught the glint of mischief already starting to wake up in his eyes, possibly triggered by that one sip of caffeine. 

“Yes, I know about the new counselor,” he admitted. The corner of his mouth twitched, threatening to curl in amusement. “Fuma sent us all a notification text.” 

Euijoo pushed his shoulder, not too hard. “Help me.” 

“Help you how?” Yuma exhaled a quiet snuffle of a laugh, lifting the can to his lips again.

“Tell me how to be a trainer. You trained Harua last summer.”

“I mean, I don’t know.” Yuma shrugged, turning to face Euijoo. He leaned his shoulder against the vending machine like he was. “I just showed him what to do, and he did it. ‘This is where this is, this is where that is, this is how this activity goes, this is what to do in this situation’, you get it. He caught on quick. Of course, this was before the campers got here, so we had more time and space to iron things out. Harua was also volunteering at a daycare on his campus for a child development course back then, so he already had some fresh experience with children.” Yuma shrugged again. “I feel like that helped, too.” 

Euijoo seriously couldn’t picture Nicholas reading bedtime stories to toddlers or rocking babies to sleep in his free time. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t know why Fuma chose me for this instead of you,” he admitted sulkily. 

He felt guilty as soon as he said it. Not only was it not in the Camp Wolf Lake Spirit™, it was like saying it out loud made his agreement with Fuma even more vapid in his mind than it already was – like he was going back on his word even though he wasn’t. He was trusted to be able to handle this – counseling, training, juggling the two – but it wasn’t even breakfast yet and here he was doubting his own capabilities. If Fuma knew that’s what he was doing, how he was responding to the challenge, Euijoo was sure he wouldn’t be so confident entrusting him with this extra job. Might even regret assigning it to him. 

It was counterproductive to think about, but he did anyway. He thought about letting Fuma down, disappointing his campers, even being a bad trainer to Nicholas. 

“Well I’ve already done my time, so,” Yuma pointed out, taking another swig of his coffee. Euijoo sighed dejectedly.

“Yeah…”

Yuma barked a laugh at his crestfallen expression, pulling the can away from his mouth. “Oh, come on, Euijoo, I’m kidding. Fuma asked you because you’re you. You’re a great counselor! Just be yourself. The campers love you.”

“Nicholas isn’t a camper.”

“All that means is you’ll probably just have to work harder for it.”

Yuma tilted the can up and finished it off before tossing it in the nearby bin. It swished softly against the fresh trash bag inside. A second later there was a knock at the door. 

“Um–” Euijoo and Yuma looked at each other. No one ever knocked before coming in here, unless it was a camper who managed to wander away from their group on the rare occasion. But Euijoo had a good idea who it might be. “Come in.”

There was a beat, and then the door gingerly pushed inwards. Nicholas stuck his head around the corner, and the first thing Euijoo noticed was that his head was sans beanie. The second thing he noticed was that Nicholas’ eyes actually were catlike in shape and it wasn’t just the beanie making them appear that way. They were more visible now but also somehow not. It was clear now that his fringe was more overgrown than Yuma’s, hanging into his eyes in a translucent veil of black. Every time he blinked, Euijoo could see the pieces caught in his eyelashes shift. 

Wasn’t that annoying for him?

When Nicholas saw them, he stepped into the cabin proper. He had changed into the Official Counselor Getup™. Fuma or K must have gotten his size for everything after his interview because the clothes neither swamped him nor looked too tight – well-fitted but breezy enough for a day working in the sun. The red and khaki made him look more approachable than the abundance of black had, and Euijoo found himself kind of stunned that this was the same person. The only thing that was the same from before were the worn black and white sneakers on his feet. He might be imagining it, but Nicholas didn’t even seem to be frowning as hard. 

His cap, instead of being on his head, was clipped through one of the belt loops at his hip. Euijoo thought he would probably want to change that later when the June sun gave him a reckoning, but for now it almost bothered him that it looked cool like that. 

Do not misunderstand – Euijoo Byun was not in the running for any Coolest Counselor awards. He was 6'1 and lanky; debatably two left feet; with a penchant for bad jokes and inappropriate laughter. That title would go to many candidates, including Fuma, K, Yuma, Harua even, before it ever reached him. And even then he still wouldn’t get it. If he was all that was left to choose from, they would just abolish the award at that point. 

But anyway. 

Yuma swiped the back of his hand over his lips, probably getting rid of any lingering coffee, to reveal a smile that the kids loved to see – hell, the adults, too. 

“You must be Nicholas. I’ve heard so much about you in the last five minutes. Don’t worry, it’s nothing too bad.”

“He’s kidding,” Euijoo was quick to say. 

“I am.” Yuma tilted his head, taking on a thoughtful expression. “Or am I?”

Euijoo elbowed him. He hadn’t warned Yuma about Nicholas and jokes.

Yuma smiled and rubbed his arm, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “I am, I am. Good to meet you, I’m Yuma.”

Nicholas nodded at him, not looking bothered. Euijoo thought. With his face, it was hard to be sure.

“Looking forward to working together,” Yuma said, nodding back before elbowing Euijoo in retaliation. “See you out there, Euijoo.”

“See you.”

Yuma walked toward Nicholas to get to the door, seeming not at all perturbed by his reclusive aura that, despite the brighter colors, was still coming off him in waves. Yuma pulled open the door and even flashed him another smile on the way out, his bright personality fully activated with just one can of coffee, apparently. Nicholas didn’t return it. Euijoo couldn’t tell if Yuma even noticed.

The screen door fluttered shut behind him, and then there was silence. Euijoo kind of wished Nicholas would be the one to break it. He was still recovering from his earlier attempt to make small talk and didn’t trust himself to try again just yet. But then he remembered that he was supposed to be leading by example. If he let some discomfort hinder him, he wouldn’t be where he was now; nor would he get anywhere with Nicholas. 

Plus he did have camp stuff to go over with him, and that was his territory. Safe territory. No need to try and be clever or funny (which he wasn’t) in order to break the ice – just supply information. He pulled his eyes from the door to address Nicholas and was caught off guard to find his new coworker already staring at him with a questioning look in his eyes. 

Euijoo held his tongue and shifted in place, waiting for him to say something. Nicholas seemed to take an agonizingly long time to do so. 

During that time Euijoo found he almost missed the beanie he'd been wearing before. Without it, his eyes seemed even more unnerving –  not on full display but on display enough; dark and intense and holding him in place.

“Your name is Euijoo?” In the thick, contained silence of the cabin, Nicholas’ voice came out at an almost normal volume, not carried away by the wind and swallowed up by the sky. 

Euijoo released a breath. He didn’t know he’d stopped breathing. “Uh, yeah?”

Nicholas frowned slightly, and this one somehow softened his features. Just a little, around his mouth. He glanced down and back up again, a confused line between his brows. “Fuma called you EJ.”

Euijoo exhaled a bout of nervous laughter, feeling a little lightheaded. He really needed to get himself together. “Oh, right! Well… some of us use nicknames because it’s easier for the younger campers to pronounce than our real ones. You should hear the little ones try to say Euijoo properly, haha. Same with K, uh Yudai, the other man who interviewed you with Fuma? We use them during the workday, even around the older kids. Just to avoid confusion and to keep everyone on the same page.”

“Mm.”

“You should probably have one too, come to think of it,” Euijoo pondered aloud. “Nicholas is a bit…” He trailed off. Nicholas blinked at him – cutting eyes nestled into a face that looked perpetually pissed off. Euijoo faltered. On second thought, he could hold off trying to assign this guy a quirky nickname. Possibly forever. “You know what, never mind. We’ll play it by ear. Let the campers decide.”

The campers. Euijoo hadn’t even given thought to how he was going to introduce them to Nicholas this morning. How would they take to someone as quiet as him being one of their new counselors? Euijoo himself wasn’t doing so hot. Would the kids find him intimidating? Distracting? Would they get along well? But how would they get along at all if Nicholas barely spoke?

Euijoo hurried to change the subject, lest he ruminate on that too much and send himself into a downward spiral before he had his waffles.

“Speaking of, our group is part of what’s called the Pup Division, which are the second to youngest campers. Ages ten and eleven. I—well, I guess we, are responsible for twelve campers total. The days pretty much go like this: we wake up, then the campers wake up, breakfast, morning activities, lunch, rest, afternoon activities, dinner, evening activities, campers go to sleep, we have a meeting, and then we go to sleep. Got it?”

Nicholas blinked. “Um.”

“You know what? We’ll just take it one thing at a time. It is–” Euijoo checked his watch. “–just past 7:30, and the first thing on the agenda is breakfast at 8:00.”

“Got it.” Nicholas shifted, pushing his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts. “So, my locker?”

“Ah! Here it is!” Euijoo slid aside and gestured to it with both arms. “There’s a combination lock inside, so it’s safe to leave your belongings in here. The combination’s on a sticker on the back.”

Nicholas nodded and strode over, and Euijoo scuttled back to give him some more room.

“We actually have to leave our phones in our lockers,” he added. “They’re not allowed anywhere on the campgrounds, and we can only use them here during break or after hours. It’s a requirement.” 

Euijoo almost added a ‘sorry’ at the end, like Nicholas might hate that and protest against it (he sorta looked the type who needed music constantly blasting in at least one ear to brave society). But Nicholas just shrugged, expression barely shifting, and dug around in his shorts pocket. He extracted his phone, and Euijoo almost got whiplash. 

Whatever kind of phone case he was expecting Nicholas to have, a pink one dotted with hand-drawn-style red strawberries was not anywhere on or near that list. Euijoo silently ogled it as Nicholas moved it to the locker, trying to figure out if the Calcifer charm he saw dangling at the top was a trick of the light or maybe a glitch in his eyes. Nicholas placed it inside before he could get a better look or ask about it, taking out the lock and peeling the combination off the back before pocketing it with the key. He closed the door over with a clunk and went about securing it with the lock.

Euijoo shrugged off his jacket while he did that. Even indoors, he could feel the summer heat already seeping into his bones. It was gonna be a hot one. 

“‘Scuse me,” he mumbled, remembering too late where his locker was relative to Nicholas’. He sidled next to him, but Nicholas barely noticed, too busy twisting his combination in, frowning at the tiny numbers. Probably checking to make sure it worked. 

Euijoo took his own lock into his hands and swiftly put in his combination, working more from muscle memory than actually needing to look at the numbers. The lock came apart with a soft click, and he pulled open the door, quickly shoving his jacket and phone inside. He paused to reach up and adjust the short sleeves of his t-shirt where they’d gotten twisted and then shut the door to find Nicholas watching him. 

Why did he keep doing that?

Euijoo coughed and fiddled with the combination lock in his hands so he wouldn’t have to make direct eye contact.

“So uh, you’ll just stick with me today. I’ll show you the usual flow of things, and I’ll let you know if I need you to help with anything. But since it’s your first day, you’ll mostly just be observing. Any questions, you can ask me.” 

With that, Euijoo stopped stalling, replacing the lock on his door and stepping back. “So, are you ready to get out there?” He tried to sound brighter than he felt. Optimistic. Motivational.

Euijoo Byun: Camp Counselor Extraordinaire. 

Nicholas shrugged, and Euijoo felt his eye twitch. He hoped he wasn’t going to do that all day. Unfortunately, it seemed like 70% of how he communicated. Euijoo forced his smile to widen.

He tried to make himself think positively, even amongst all the what-ifs in his head. The day hadn’t even officially begun. He couldn’t start it by thinking it was gonna suck just because he had a role he’d never been in and a CIT he didn’t know how to talk to. 

Although, let’s be honest, those were kind of valid reasons.

“Okay.” He adjusted his cap on his head. “Then let’s do this.”