𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑. mighty mouse

WHEN JIEUN KANG WAS BORN A WEE SIX POUNDS AND an ounce, her mother would dress her up like a little dolly and show her off proudly. She felt for sure all of the other mothers would be jealous of her baby when she looked so much cuter than their eight or nine-pound offerings.

When Jieun got older, the kid moved like her knees were just hinges, wobbling to and fro before falling on her padded bottom. Then she clapped like it was all part of the plan and rolled to her stomach to get up again.

She was Asian-looking and cute as hell. She was dressed in a primrose pinafore dress and those soft first shoes kids wear, the ones they can still feel the ground through. Then from behind an oversized rhododendron came her mother with a smile to light up the whole town. The girl giggled, waving her arms for the pick-up she knew was coming, but before she was hoisted high she was on her bottom again.

At the age of seven, Jieun was the embodiment of great beauty. There was a warmth in her brown hair that brought to her features, a simple frame for that smile and eyes that held more love than she would ever admit to. The hue altered as the strands curled and moved, as free as autumn leaves playing in the daytime.

Yoomi would often describe Jieun as frenetic and fractious. She was born with a hurricane for a soul, that one, she would say. But she said it in a loving way with that soft glow in her eyes that only a mother can have for such complex offspring. She would rock her in the dead of night when she found it impossible to sleep and she would wear her all day long in a baby carrier so that she would be calmed by the body-to-body contact. She would soothe her with lullabies and stroke her tiny back and soft hair. She would whisper sweet things in her ears and cover her with kisses.

She would love the hurricane right out of that child and replace it with a sweet summer breeze because above all, she was her baby, and she loved her with a power mightier than the wind.

When Kang Yoomi passed there was no one to love the hurricane out of her.

And Jieun refused to subdue the storm inside herself.

She learned it was quite an advantageous personality trait, given her after-school hobby; soccer. It made her scrappy and hardworking and above all else; gave her the drive to win.

She didn't come from a long line of sports fanatics ― or anything violent, she learned. In her seventh grade year, Yasmine and Moon decided to go for the team manager for the soccer team, a bunch of cute boys Yasmine once said.

And for some odd reason, Jieun thought those who were on the team were the coolest people ever.

They were tall, short, skinny, some poor and some rich. All they had was a ball and all they needed to do was make a goal. Which could be anything, she saw them practice with coffee cans, coke cans, trash cans, anything. You could be a girl or boy, have a uniform or no uniform.

She convinced her dad to let her try out the day of. He was horrified, saying, wouldn't it be better to enroll in ballet, hey what about drama? But a small part of her liked the thrill soccer brought.

Clear as day, she could remember the day she finally got her dad to accept that this is what she wanted to do, what she was good at.

She made her way onto the field. She was the last player on the team that could possibly be put in, the newbie. With light brown hair that seemed even lighter because of the stadium lights.

Truthfully, their team should have been done. The odds were against them. Hell, the school was against them by that point.

Yet, no one seemed to have given Jieun the message.

At some point between the forty-five-minute mark that started the second half of the game, and the ninety-minute mark that ended normal regulation time, Jieun managed to steal the ball from the opposing team forward attack the goal and ran. She ran, and ran, and ran, and by some miracle avoided every opposing player that went after her.

She scored the most beautiful, ruthless goal in the top right corner of the net. The ball seemed to sail through the air with a one-way ticket to the record books.

Her dad screamed. Yasmine and Moon yelled. The whole stadium and the announcers lost it. This girl who had never played outside of practice had done what no one expected of her.

They called her Mighty Mouse from then on out.

It was one of those moments that lifted her spirit.

In a way, she understood Miguel Diaz.

The cafeteria fight to him was her first win to her.

When she heard the student body talk about joining the same dojo as him she wanted to laugh, it wasn't like Miguel did anything special, but it made everyone feel like they had. The bullied beating up the bully. It was like a corny chapter from a teen novel. It gave those who were picked on the impression that they could do anything because this other person did it.

Reminded them that anything was possible.

The yellow sun poured down on them. A crisp wind whipped across the field, carrying the stadium's music, which blasts from the speakers as the scrimmage continued.

There was a lot of pressure coming back, After a few months off, the fresh group was rusty and a bit unused to each other. Preseason training was a bit brutal but important. If they couldn't get synched up and confident before the season started, they're likely in for a string of draws and losses until they find their rhythm.

Because soccer, more than any other game, is a collective sport, a collaborative game. The more attuned the team is to each other, the more comfortable and connected, the better the play will be. Soccer's victories relied on unity.

Which seemed to be something Jieun's forgotten. Because she was huffing and stomping like a raging bull, yelling at the girls for minor mistakes, playing way harder than necessary when they were just getting back into the groove.

The other teammates glanced at their couch, who stood on the sidelines, her gaze was critical, razor-focused.

"Coach," one of them muttered between gulps of water.

"Hmm?" She narrowed her eyes on a student who sprawled on the grass after another faked them out and cut towards the goal.

"You, uh, gonna tell Jiji to simmer down before she breaks something?"

"Or someone," another mutters.

A student ripped a show low in the corner of the net, one that the goalie had no chance of saving, and danced in celebration across the field in rhythm to the music. Jieun glowered death at the one on the grass.

The player beside the coach cleared their throat, then says. "Coach, Brooks is in the danger zone."

"Evans," Coach said.

She glanced her way. "Yes, coach?"

"How about I coach and you play?"

The one who spoke about Jieun exchanged glances with her other teammates, who unfortunately unwaveringly faithful. They nod in agreement, trusting their coach to handle the situation however she planned to.

"Get your fucking ass up, blondie," Jieun yelled at the girl still on the ground, head hung. "You forget which team you're on today?" she barked.

She sighed as she stands.

Jieun focuses on her surroundings. Dropping the ball back to someone near her, she sprinted up the field, barking orders from her command center in the midfield, the wind whipping her dark hair severely to one side, the sun casting the tips of her eyelashes bronze.

The scrimmage continued, and the teammates continued to do what they were told by Jieun.

As one stepped closer to a girl named Ash, she cut the ball and threw her weight into them, harder than normal. The student is thrown off balance by that, stumbling, their foot slipping forwards and inadvertently tripping her. She hops over it, takes one more step, and shoots, nailing the ball into the upper part of the net.

Ash turned toward the student, offering them a hand. They take her hand and hoist themselves up before they clap each other on the back.

Jieun's voice cracks like a gunshot over the grass. "Hey!" she bellowed. There was a fire in her eyes.

Ash clears her throat and forces a friendly smile as the other student wisely jogged away to take their place for kickoff. "Jiji."

She stalked towards her, quickly closing the distance. "What the hell was that?" she snapped.

Ash lifted her eyebrows. "Nothing, I just helped them up."

"You don't help someone after they trip you."

"It was accidental," she shrugged. "I shoved them first. Besides, we're teammates."

"Not right now they're not. Right now, they're your opponent."

"Jiji, it's just practice."

"Exactly." Jieun stepped closer, "and it's called practice for a reason. What you do now is what you do in the game. And you do not help them up." Silence rang around them. Everyone was watching. "Your little 'act,'" she says low and menacing, "conveys a tolerance for being mowed down that makes us all look like pushovers. I won't stand for that to be the example. They push us, we push back. They fall on their asses, we run by."

Every word was a blow to the chest, knocking the wind out of her.

Rage boiled through Ash's system as she set her hands on Jieun's chest and shoved her violently away. Jieun's eyes widen with surprise, then narrow, fury burning in their depths as she takes an involuntary step back to steady herself. But then she steps forward and shoves her harder.

"Hey!" Coach blows her whistle. Jieun glances over at her, enraged. "Both of you, get o the field and cool down!"

Seething, Ash jogs off.

Jieun calmly walked away, she was in no rush. She won.

"GUESS WHO!" A BOY RUSHED TO Jieun and called out, covering her eyes as she made her way to her next classroom.

"It's either Wheezie or the cold clammy hands of death."

Miguel removes his hands in excitement and snorts a laugh. "It's Wheezie!"

"Damnit." Jieun sighed dramatically. She continued her walk, her eyes trained keenly on the path.

It was odd for her to make a connection so fast, to give her trust so easily, tentative though it was. There was something in the way Miguel smiled, a warmth, a genuineness, a softness of spirit she just couldn't pass up. He listened like he was absorbing her words, not simply getting her "turn" over and done with so he could return to some other topic. The more time she spent with him the more her spirit lifted, he was the new friend she'd needed for so long. ❨ though, don't tell Sam that. ❩

"So, did you hear?" He wraps an arm around her shoulder.

"Hear what?"

"I got a date." Miguel guides them to the classroom door. "With Sam."

Jieun elbowed him in the ribs, not hard, just teasingly. "Not possible, you and Blossom?"

"Yes possible! Don't know where I'm gonna take her, though."

Jieun snorts, pulling Miguel out of his mental musings. "I don't believe you."

He snorted, "well believe it!" Jieun shook her head as an even broader smile touched her lips. "You think movies are good?"

She shook her head. "Movies are a terrible first date." Miguel nodded intently, "Is there a fair in town? No, I don't think so..."

She continued to rant about potential options, which overwhelmed the boy. "Are these date ideas for you or Sam?" He chuckled nervously.

"Sorry, got a little too excited."

Yeah, I can tell, he thought, slowly turning toward the sound of the soft, feminine voice. Any further thoughts on his mind died a sudden death the moment his gaze connected to the most gorgeous pair of eyes he'd ever seen, Sam LaRusso.

He quickly gathered his composure and said, "You know what? I think I'll ask sensei. Thanks, mousie!"

"Glad to help," she said curtly, as he left.

THE NIGHT HAD BEEN UNEVENTFUL.

Jieun straightened her clothes with exaggerated dignity and began walking toward the doors of the drug store. There were no citable injuries, just a slight pain in her wrist from her altercation earlier with the blonde girl.

The sound of her shoes clicking against the floorboards bolstered her spirits. Her halmeoni, her grandmother, used to say that a woman wearing her best shoes and favorite red lipstick can accomplish anything. There is some truth to her words. When halmi donned her most expensive shoes and a glossy coat of Dior Rouge, she fairly glowed with inner confidence.

She halted.

There were times in life when everything sort of slows down, all senses go on high alert, and you see everything from a distance.

This was one of them.

She had actually avoided visiting certain Encino hotspots because the mere thought of having an encounter with Robby made her want to vomit. She tried her best to eradicate him from her brain entirely. But he was like a cold sore, popping up now and then, a painful irritation whether she wanted him there or not.

And now it was only going to get worse. "Can you get out of my way?"

"There's room to go around me you know ― "

Jieun grunted, "What I need is in front of you."

"So get it."

"Excuse me?"

"Hey, why're you holding your hand like that? Did something happen?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it. "My wrist is sore, soccer."

"Since when do you use your hands in soccer?" He smirked.

"Since today." She rolled her eyes, his presence rubbed over her like a pervasive itch that wouldn't go away. She shoved him a bit and looked through the shelves. "You look like hell, by the way." she blurted out.

His eyes locked on her, and he waved an idle hand. "Y'know it's been years since anyone has insulted me to my face. I'd say, three."

"I can guarantee you I haven't been the only one to insult you."

Robby pulled in a half smile. "Maybe, maybe not." He shrugs one shoulder. "And I do look like shit, so..."

He really didn't. He wore his hair in a ponytail, which highlighted the clean bone structure of his face and the fact that his right eye was slightly black and blue and almost swollen. Various scrapes mar his skin, and a line of surgeon's tape bisected his right brow.

"What happened to you?" She stepped a bit towards him.

"Doesn't concern you." He simply looks her over, his gaze leisurely and irritating. "Just a small fight." He appeared to find it amusing, she didn't.

"Did you deserve it?"

His attention stalled, and that slanted smile of his reappeared. "Y'know a lady friend once told me that when a woman wears red lipstick, it's for two possible reasons. Either she wants him, or she wants to tell him to fuck off."

Heat flushed over her cheeks, and she found herself glaring yet again. "We both know when it comes to you it's the latter."

"It's fun to mess with you, Laurie."

She was so tempted to snap back that her lips twitched, ❨ and she would've if it weren't for the owner of the store telling them to hurry so he could close up. ❩ Setting her shoulders back, she crossed the store, aware of the obnoxious clicking her shoes created.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

can u tell I'm trying to skip over s1 as fast as I can

this is like,,, episode 7? anyways, I'm trying to come up with a way for jiji to meet johnny for next ch heheh

much love,