Imina – 4

The week passed faster than I thought.

I was busy learning the ropes at work, and she was busy pushing the other team members to their limits.

The team members were also struggling with the increased workload, as evidenced by the higher percentage of people working overtime than before.

Perhaps motivated to leave work early on Friday, the team members stayed late until Thursday, and they got what they wanted.

Mina, having confirmed that the assigned tasks were properly completed, didn’t particularly stop them from leaving early.

And so came Saturday.

Her promise to pick me up wasn’t just empty words.

‘I thought she’d be waiting at the entrance of the officetel.’

I chuckled, seeing her glued to the front door.

Seeing this, I realized, “She’s clingy too.”

But this is still cute.

At least she’s not stabbing me with a knife or slipping me weird drugs.

She could have texted me that she was outside or knocked on the door, but she was hesitant in strange ways.

After about ten minutes of no movement, I decided to make the first move.

“Have you been waiting long?”

I opened the door, dressed casually in jeans and a shirt.

“No, I just got here.”

She was wearing slacks and a blouse.

Mina, dressed in bright, spring-like clothes, a departure from her usual stiff, black-clad office look.

She smiled brightly like a spring flower.

“You’re wearing pretty clothes.”

I gave her a compliment mixed with 70% sincerity and 30% lip service, and she smiled faintly.

“Thank you. Inho, you always look so handsome that I don’t even notice the clothes.”

Like affectionate siblings, we exchanged pleasantries and headed towards the company.

Unfortunately, neither of us had a car, so we took public transportation back to the office.

Come to think of it, do I even have a driver’s license here?

The company was empty on the weekend, and she, becoming an enthusiastic teacher, taught me the work.

There was nothing special while learning the work.

Except for:

-Can I borrow the mouse for a second?

And getting close to me.

-Good job. Looks like you haven’t lost your touch.

And patting my head.

-Have you been sitting for a long time?

Massaging my shoulders.

-Here.

Suddenly buying coffee and putting it against my cheek.

Everything except the work itself.

Apart from her actions, she explained the work in a really easy-to-understand way, making it easy to grasp.

If I do well, maybe I can do about 0.9 of a person’s job starting next week?

Repeating the cycle of eating lunch in the middle and then working again.

We were so engrossed that we almost missed the movie time.

Without a car, we hurriedly packed our things and rushed to the movie theater.

Fortunately, we arrived at the theater without being late, exchanged our tickets, and each bought a cola before going in.

When I asked if she didn’t like popcorn, she said she didn’t like getting her hands greasy.

But caramel popcorn is so good.

“It’s too late to buy it now, but you should try caramel popcorn. It’s really good.”

“Is that so? But I don’t really get a chance to eat popcorn unless I come to the movies, right?”

She replied, looking for row J.

“That’s right.”

“Then I guess we have to come again. With Inho.”

She muttered as she sat down.

The movie started, and we focused on it without saying a word.

Her fingers brushed against my hand on the armrest from time to time, but nothing more happened.

Only after the movie ended and all the end credits had rolled did she get up from her seat.

“Wow~ that was fun.”

“I’m glad I picked a good one.”

“Actually, it’s been so long since I’ve been to the movies that I think anything would have been fun.”

When I asked, she said it had been about four years since she’d been to the movies.

Well, she looks like a workaholic… she probably came to the company even on weekends.

On the way out to dinner, we headed to the arcade in the movie theater.

I was originally going to go straight to dinner, but her eyes seemed glued to the arcade, so I changed our destination with a bit of sense.

“I’ve never been to an arcade before.”

“Then you probably don’t know any games.”

Hmm, what would be good?

“How about this? It’s a game we can play together. It’s a game where you shoot zombies with a gun.”

“Wow! A gun.”

She held the rather heavy gun-shaped controller and laughed, aiming it at the screen a few times.

How has she lived her life that she’s never seen something like this before?

“Okay, shall we go?”

I put in the coins and started the game.

The game started with a loud noise.

Being familiar with the grammar of games, I aimed appropriately and blew the zombies’ heads off, but she was moving her body and even taking cover.

This game isn’t that realistic.

“Die, you bastard!”

I was going to tell her, “That’s not how you do it,” but I stopped, seeing her completely immersed and enjoying herself.

Games are for fun, so what does the method matter?

It’s a secret that, apart from enjoying it, her skills were so terrible that she died quickly.

We came to a steakhouse.

Maybe it’s because I lived like such a cheapskate in the original world? I feel burdened if a meal costs more than 20,000 won.

Even now.

“Everything’s so expensive.”

When I muttered, looking at the menu, she put her hand on her hip and raised her head.

“Inho. Don’t worry. I’m paying today.”

She’s the complete opposite of how she is at work. This is rare.

We decided to order a variety of dishes to share, and we talked about the movie and the arcade we had been to today.

“I really felt like technology has advanced. How can monsters get shot inside the screen when you pull the trigger at the screen?”

“Um… it’s complicated to explain…”

“I didn’t do very well today, so I couldn’t clear stage 1, but let’s set a date and clear it all the way through next time.”

“You might have to cancel your savings account to do that.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.”

While we were talking, the food came out.

As soon as the food was placed on the table, I reflexively moved my body back, and she looked at me with a puzzled expression.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, I thought you were going to take a picture.”

I have to stay out of the frame if you’re going to take a picture of the food.

“A picture? Oh, a picture of the food? I don’t take them. I don’t really have anywhere to post them. Other employees take them, but I don’t really understand why they do that.”

She said, stirring the pasta with her fork.

“Well, it’s a difference in perspective.”

I said, cutting the steak and putting it on her plate.

“A difference in perspective?”

She asked back, moving the pickle dish closer to my side.

“Food photos themselves don’t really have any meaning, but they help you remember the day. The photos.”

Nod, nod. Her head moved.

“People forget things more easily than you think. They don’t completely forget, but they store them somewhere deep inside.”

I wet my throat with water and continued.

“If there’s a medium, it revives the hidden memories.”

“So this photo becomes the medium.”

“That’s right. Forget the bad memories, and recall the good memories while looking at the photos. So wouldn’t it be good to take pictures of small, enjoyable moments so you can look back on them later?”

“That makes sense. Should I try it too?”

She picked up her phone and took pictures of the half-eaten food.

-Click.

-Click.

The shutter sound rang a few times, and she asked me.

“Oh, can you teach me how to use Instagram?”

“Yes, can I have your phone for a moment?”

I took her phone, created an Instagram account for her, and handed it back.

“You’ll probably get the hang of how to use it quickly. Start by posting simple things.”

“Thank you. Oh, but Inho.”

She called me while posting the photo she just took.

“Yes?”

“How do you know so much about this stuff when you don’t really do it?”

“Well, my friends do it.”

“Girls?”

“Pardon?”

She smiled and glared at me.

“Is it a girl?”

“Uh….”

“It’s a girl.”

I turned my eyes to the steak without saying anything.