episode_0032

The main job of a convenience store part-timer isn’t customer service.

It’s not inventory management, sorting out expired products, or frying snacks either.

The main job is…

Figuring out how to melt away this rotting, stagnant time as quickly as possible.

Of course, this is strictly from the part-timer’s perspective.

The owner’s perspective?

Who cares. If they won’t even pay minimum wage, why should I work for less than that?

“Hmph…”

Here. Sitting at the counter, Lee Hayoon was grinning absentmindedly, thinking the same thing.

Amidst the endless rows of KakaoTalk profiles—one stood out with no picture, just the name “Seo Woojin” written plainly.

At the very least, guys who were even slightly above average all had their faces plastered as their profile pictures.

If not, it’d be pictures of their pets, favorite heroes, and so on.

But this guy? Just the default profile pic.

Logically, it shouldn’t matter, but for some reason, it felt oddly fascinating.

Maybe he just doesn’t like taking pictures?

Hayoon’s fidgeting finger tapped somewhere on Woojin’s profile.

……An empty 1-on-1 chatroom appeared.

“What do I do……”

First message.

Whether the other person was a guy or a girl, she’d never hesitated in her 21 years of life—but this time, it felt impossibly hard.

Maybe because… he wasn’t just any guy, but someone she was dating?

She had no idea how to even start the conversation.

Hi?

She wasn’t a grade-schooler. What kind of opener was that?

What are you up to?

Somehow, that felt… weirdly suggestive. Like she was hinting at something steamy.

Part of her also wondered if the guy should text first.

And just thinking about all this made her feel uncool.

A whirlwind of complicated emotions churned inside her.

“Ugh…”

Right. Complicated emotions?

Overthinking was the problem.

Just do it like she always did with everyone else—naturally.

Like an older sister would—like a noona should…!

Just send whatever pops into her head…!

—What are you up to?

She sent it.

Sure, it could be misinterpreted… but it wasn’t like it was some huge misunderstanding…

…It’s not like she meant “I want to pull your hair and have sex” or anything…!

Ughhh…

God. She wanted to die of embarrassment… Uwaaaah…

Squirming in her seat, Hayoon immediately flipped her phone face-down on the counter after sending the message.

Ding-dong. The door chimed as an elderly man bought a pack of Esse Lights and left.

He rambled something about a recent robbery incident, advising her to scream loudly if anything similar happened—showing his concern in his own way.

“……”

About two minutes passed.

Her phone should’ve vibrated with a reply by now. But the flipped-over device lay silent, showing no reaction.

Did she leave it on silent? Huuuh… Letting out a tense sigh, Hayoon cautiously turned her phone back on.

“……”

Not only was there no reply—the unread “1” next to the message hadn’t even disappeared.

“Ugh…”

9 PM.

It wasn’t that late yet.

If anything, wasn’t this the most active time of day?

Whether you were an early-riser with a disciplined lifestyle,

or a night owl who stayed up gaming and slept in (like Jiyun did when she took long breaks from part-time work),

this was the peak time for being awake.

What’s going on?

Is he gaming?

Last time, he said he wasn’t really into games, didn’t he?

Or did he?

Pretending not to care, she fiddled with her phone for another five minutes before checking KakaoTalk again—still no reply.

The unread “1” remained unchanged.

“……”

A pointless stubbornness flared up inside her.

—Do you have any favorite foods?

She sent another message, then glared at her phone like she could will a reply into existence.

But all her phone could do was slowly drain its battery—now at 78% in the top-right corner.

—Are you gaming right now?

Just in case, she added one more line.

According to Jiyun, shooting games took about an hour per match.

That’s why she always asked him to give her a heads-up an hour before meals.

Some games might take less, others more—but Hayoon decided to wait just one more hour.

Her phone finally buzzed—right as she lay in bed, ready to drift off to dreamland.

—

32

“Ahhh—! I wanna fuuuuck—!”

On the familiar alleyway she’d walked countless times before,

the 27-year-old Yozora, drunkenly swaying, clung to my back, squirming.

“At work… there’s nothing but guys who look like fucking bears…”

“……”

“The one kinda cute guy… even when a pretty noona like me offers, he acts like a fucking eunuch and just avoids me…!”

“……”

Beneath her, the 25-year-old me was busy chewing back a flood of curses threatening to spill from my throat.

…If you’re that horny, just go to a club or something.

But no—she insists she prefers “natural encounters” and would never set foot in such places.

Psycho.

“Hey. Woojin-ah…”

“Yes, sunbae.”

“Look at this? Someone sent me another dick pic in my DMs…?”

“I see. That must be unpleasant.”

“How’s it look? Pathetic, right…? The guy got hard just to show me…”

“Yeah. Yeah. Stop shoving your screen in my face.”

“Like a Cheeto? Doubt it’s even 10 cm… Pffft…”

“Sigh… Sue him or track him down and tear him apart. Do whatever. …Not like you can actually sue, though.”

“Is it ‘cause I reply that they keep sending this shit…? I should just fucking kill them… …Huh?”

Yozora’s phone, dangling from her hand, clattered to the ground.

After a brief, eerie silence, I sighed and kept walking.

This happened often. As long as the SIM card was fine, it didn’t matter.

Money? The folks backing her made sure she had plenty every month.

“But Woojin-ah… Even if it’s small, I wouldn’t laugh if it was yours… I’d take it seriously… Hehe…”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Whyyy… Do you even know how hard it was for me back in school…?”

“Pretty sure I’ve heard this story at least ten times.”

The tale of how, back in her uniform days, some creep’s hand would “accidentally” brush against her butt on the train.

How she’d let it slide at first, tired and indifferent—until the guy started groping under her skirt, prompting her to drag him off at the next stop.

After walking a few steps away,

Huff, huff—she’d led the perverted salaryman, panting like a dog, into a quiet park restroom.

The story of how she walked out alone, shaking water off her hands.

And the epilogue—how it took over three years for Japanese police to finally catch the guy.

If you broke it down by incident, there were at least a dozen more like this.

“Then you’ll hear it an eleventh time… Ugh… Anyway, why won’t you sleep with me…?”

“You said it yourself last time—you’re an S.”

“Mmm. So what…?”

“I’m just not into that. BDSM and all.”

“Hmm… Really…?”

Even with heroes, it was the same.

If my favorite hero had a hardcore S preference and seemed impossible to conquer, I’d drop them without a second thought.

And Yozora wasn’t even a hero—she was a villain.

No way was I risking getting dominated just to get laid.

Why gamble with pufferfish when there’s plenty of other food?

“I’ll make you like it… I’ll bite you all over… Nibble nibble…”

“Stop. You’ll get saliva in my ear.”

“Heheh… Omnomnom…”

“God, seriously…!”

“Next time, let’s drink at my place… I’ll lock the door so you can’t leave…”

“……”

Next time Yozora suggests “Let’s just drink at home,” I’m definitely dodging.

Engraving that thought into my bones, we finally arrived at her place.

Uncharacteristically clean—it always felt weird seeing it like this. And I’d been seeing it for five years now.

When did this drunkard even find time to clean?

Probably just hired a cleaning service.

“Phew…”

“Nnngh…”

Dropping her onto the bed, Yozora immediately curled up, hugging the fluffy blanket with a weird noise.

As I stared at her disheveled clothes,

the pale skin peeking from beneath—

……

Anyway.

Yozora, squirming with half-lidded eyes like she was trying to seduce me,

got one last glance before I turned off the lights and quietly slipped out of the officetel.

That’s how it always was.

For ten years. Straight.

“……Wanna touch noona’s body…?”

A whisper soaked in alcohol drifted up from below.

Unlike her usual loud tone,

this was hushed—just quiet enough that the guy smoking beyond the wall wouldn’t hear.

Murmur. Murmur.

“…No thanks.”

My answer hadn’t changed.

Soon, I’d have Hayoon and Jiyun to mess around with. No need to gamble here.

Yeah. That’s what my head thought.

…But my eyes were slowly tracing Yozora’s soft curves.

Would just touching really be so bad? The thought tried to cloud my mind, but—

I’m a rational person.

…Probably.

“…Liar… You were a horny teen just days ago, and now you’re saying no…? No way…”

“Sunbae. Where did you even—”

“Here, here…”

“……”

I couldn’t bring myself to tell her to get lost, so I hesitated—letting Yozora throw herself into my arms.

Squish.

She pressed her chest against me, making sure I felt it, then nuzzled her face against my collarbone.

With her reddened nose, she peered up at me.

“Pffft… Look at your face. So fucking funny…”

“…What about it?”

I think Hayoon said something similar once.

Keeping my expression blank, I waited for Yozora’s drunken reply.

“How do I put it…? A kid pretending to be an adult? …Ah. Right…”

“……”

“You look so fucking virgin-coded… Kekeke…”

“……”

“How is it? Noona’s chest… …You like it?”

“……”

Was it because she was Japanese?

Maybe Japanese people were just more openly sexual than Koreans, making conversations like this no big deal.

Could she really interpret my “Please just disappear” face however she wanted?

…And for someone who’s also a virgin, why was she so damn confident?

Swallowing a thick sigh stuck in my throat,

I answered quietly.

“Then… can I really touch you?”

“Pfft… You’re really gonna touch me…? Sniff…”

“…You sure? I can just do whatever?”

“Mhm. Go ahead. Curious how a girl’s chest feels, right?”

“……”

“Here… Go on…?”

Before Yozora could finish—

I clenched my fist, then slowly slid my hand beneath her thin winter clothes.

“……”

Her skin, warm and soft from alcohol.

My fingers brushed against the scratchy fabric of her bra.

Yozora, who’d been smirking confidently, froze mid-expression as I unhooked her bra.

And then—

I grabbed one of those pillowy breasts—

the ones men always stared at when we drank together,

the ones that had pressed against my back every time she got drunk for the past ten years—

and squeezed.

As hard as I’d held back for a decade.

Squish.

Hard enough to leave a mark.

Squish.

“…S-See? No way a guy wouldn’t like this…”

“……”

“N-Not bad…”

“……”

“……”

“……”

In the open parking lot of a first-floor villa—where anyone could see,

with a guy smoking just beyond the wall—

my hand, having lifted Yozora’s white top, moved obscenely beneath it.

Not like lovers.

Not tenderly.

More like—

a pervert.

disgustingly.

My fingers prodded at her nipple, which had retreated in embarrassment at the edge of her smooth skin.

Her stiffening bud kept catching on my short nails.

A faint shiver ran through her—her nipples had always been sensitive, as I’d confirmed before.

…Whatever.

Her reaction was underwhelming.

But then again, it’s Yozora.

Did I ever plan to take off her panties and—

Hell no.

“…Ngh……”

“……”

Her breast, gripped greedily in my hand.

My fingertips soon felt her cold sweat.

I rubbed my palm over her entire chest like I was applying lotion,

mocking her for sweating in this cold, moving crudely—

then pinched her stiff, twitching nipple hard.

I never said how I’d touch you, right?

“……. ….”

No reaction.

Or rather, she was forcing herself not to react.

Yozora, who’d been staring only at my face, kept glancing around, checking for onlookers.

…My initial plan was just to vent a decade’s worth of pent-up frustration.

But now, a petty competitiveness flared up.

So I shoved my other hand under her clothes too.

Pushing aside the bra strap dangling in the way, I dragged a fingertip down her other hidden nipple.

……Then, just as footsteps echoed in the distance—

Yozora, her face burning with shame,

“S-Stop…”

“……”

“I said stop… Dumbass… Someone’s coming…! Can’t you hear…?”

“……”

whispered desperately—

but not before I’d thoroughly,

squeeze, pinch,

tormented her sweat-slick, stiffened nipple.

“I swear to fuck, if I get caught skipping night classes with you again. Every time I ditch with you, we get busted, you shitstain.”

“Quit bitching. It’s not like we never get caught otherwise. Just bad luck, dipshit.”

“We’re so fucked this time. Check the group chat. Everyone who went to the PC bang today got marked absent.”

“The fuck…? Why’d they remove corporal punishment if they’re not even gonna let us get spanked?”

As I pulled my hand out of Yozora’s clothes, three figures in long black padded coats waddled past.

They glanced our way briefly but kept walking.

Silence returned, and the smoking man from earlier quietly slipped back inside, sensing the mood.

Did he hear us?

…Who knows.

In the end,

only Yozora and I remained.

“…Happy now?”

“…Huh……?”

“I touched you. Like you asked.”

“…Asked…? Me…?”

“The seduction act. Wasn’t that it?”

“I… guess…? Yeah…”

“You saw it yourself—it didn’t work. Let’s go back.”

“……”

Good. Now I’m satisfied.

No need to drag out a dangerous relationship.

After tormenting the breasts that had tormented me for ten years, I could finally focus on Hayoon and Jiyun.

With that, I walked past Yozora toward the apartment entrance.

“……”

“……”

I stood there for a while.

Beep beep beep—I punched in the passcode to head inside.

Behind me, Yozora adjusted her clothes and waited quietly.

My body turned around on its own.

”