Humans Are Clumsy
What does it even mean, to start liking someone?
How do you explain falling in love?
Maybe it's just that you keep looking at them. Constantly. Without even meaning to.
Even if you're clumsy with your feelings, awkward with your hands, and hopeless at saying anything pretty — you still can't hide the way your gaze keeps turning on its own. That's the story of every pair of eyes that meet along the way.
"Am I that pretty?"
"...I don't know."
Our eyes kept meeting.
We were busy scavenging in the cold, and still, every time we found something and looked up, our eyes went straight to each other.
"They're going to wear out. Wear right through. At this rate they'll disappear off my face."
"Look who's talking."
To be precise, Harin had always been like this. I was the one who'd changed. But every time our eyes met, it was hard to hide how awkward I felt.
The words came out however they wanted. The eyes were honest.
They say a person's feelings live in their pupils and spill out in every possible way. Apparently I'm not exempt from that rule either.
"Go on, look all you want. I'll just sit right here!"
"Cut the crap and keep scavenging. We're busy."
"Tch."
I forced my gaze away and threw myself back into scavenging.
Telling her to shut up and scavenge because we were busy wasn't entirely a lie.
I'd had a lot on my mind lately.
The whole rhythm of things had changed from the old days, when traces of other people were rare. Leisure and ease had been shoved to the back burner.
Like I'd mentioned before, the downtown stretching along Line 9 had already been swallowed up by other people. The city around Line 5, where we'd switched routes, was pretty well looted too.
"What should I do with this power bank?"
"Ditch it. Not worth the space in the pack."
So we grabbed only what we needed right now and moved on to the next scavenging spot as fast as we could.
The main haul was food, as always. Beyond that, the best we could do was usable winter gear, clothes, and any weapons that would be dangerous in someone else's hands.
"Found some snacks over here."
"Yeah, I grabbed some underwear that's still in the packaging."
"Nice! Let's move on!"
Still, being two people again meant we were moving a lot faster and smoother than when I'd been alone.
What we'd already stockpiled would last us another six months easy. The stuff beyond that... I'd figure it out a little later.
We scavenged here and there like that.
It would be a lie to say we didn't come across traces of other survivors — or the survivors themselves.
Around the Ujangsan Station Area, there were plenty of survivor traces, and every so often gunshots rang out from a little ways off. We hid so we wouldn't be spotted by people passing through.
Still, it was definitely calmer and easier than the scenery along Line 9.
That's what I was thinking as I rummaged through the living room of the house we'd just entered.
"Hmm..."
Then I heard Harin's voice from the master bedroom, thick with hesitation, and I turned and headed straight for her.
"What? Did you find something?"
"Ah, um. No? I didn't find anything."
The moment she heard my voice, she flinched like she'd been caught, then stuffed something into her pocket.
"Then what did you just put in your pocket?"
"...I didn't put anything in?"
The eyes that met mine were trembling, just a little.
She was terrible at lying to your face, so even before I pressed her, that whole hunched-up body of hers was pretty damn cute.
"If I dump out your pocket and anything comes out, you're eating a mouthful of spoiled mayonnaise."
"Come on... can't you just let it go...? A lady's allowed to have secrets, you know."
"Hmm. Fine. I'll let it slide."
"So unromantic."
The way she said it was so annoying I wanted to dump her pocket out anyway, but if Harin was acting like this, she had to have a reason.
It was Harin, after all. Not anyone else.
Anyway.
The daily scavenging usually wrapped up by mid-afternoon.
You could envy the early clock-out if you wanted, but we were up at dawn to start the day's work. When you actually counted the hours, it wasn't any different from before the world ended.
"Ugh, it's so cooold..."
"Just take off your outer layers and get under the blankets. I'll handle the sorting."
"Ugh... I can't do that."
We got home and started sorting through everything we'd scavenged this time.
Like I said, most of it was food.
"Man, a twenty-kilo sack of rice is the real deal."
"Let's cook pot rice on the stove. Mix it with soy sauce and scrambled eggs."
"Oh, I like that."
The biggest score of this scavenging run was definitely getting a whole sack of rice.
I don't know what the fuck people have been doing — not cooking rice at home? — because all I'd been finding was instant rice cups. But this house had a twenty-kilo sack.
King's Brand Icheon rice.
They've said since ancient times that Icheon rice was that good. Time to find out if it can beat those instant rice cups engineered by people with doctorates.
"Where should I put the potatoes and sweet potatoes?"
"Just stack them in the corner of the storage room. Oh, pull out two of each for now. We'll try them today."
"Okay."
The people around the Ujangsan Station Area had been pretty generous with their leftovers — we got potatoes and sweet potatoes by the box.
They'd been frozen solid, of course, so we'd have to check the taste and texture after they thawed. But a large amount of edible food is always the right call.
And then.
"What's with the stockings?"
"Ah, I grabbed those. To wear under my long underwear. Stockings are warmer than you'd think — want to try some, oppa?"
The stockings still in their packaging must have been Harin's find.
"Yeah, no. And I like black better than nude."
"Preference noted. Ta-da~ I've got black ones too. Woo~"
Harin grinned, waving the package of black stockings. The look on her face was, in its own way, a little sultry.
"Ta-da~ I've got boxer briefs too. Woo-woo~"
"Ugh."
"Preference noted."
I made a similar face and waved the package of boxer briefs like an idiot. Harin shot me a look of pure disgust and went back to sorting the rest.
All kinds of snacks, various canned goods, ramyeon and side dishes. Green tea and barley tea bags, instant coffee.
We'd also grabbed a nice kitchen knife and a frying pan. The ones we'd been using weren't in great shape.
Yeah. The usual stuff, more or less.
Hot steam and heat rose into the air.
"Hmm-hmm~"
"..."
After we'd finished dinner, Harin suddenly decided she wanted a shower and started boiling water.
Not over a campfire outside like before — the stove had a stand, so she set a big pot on that.
Of course, it was still a slapdash method, and the Indoor Shower Booth was still as ramshackle as ever.
"Ahh, this is nice~"
"It must've been even better in the bunker."
From inside a setup so crude and shabby it couldn't even begin to compare to what she'd enjoyed in the bunker, Harin's humming drifted out.
"In there? Well, the facilities were nice, sure. But I missed this, you know. Maybe because we built it together. Heehee~"
"You're a weird one, seriously."
Missing something this inconvenient and ramshackle — that really did make her a weird person.
Harin giggled at that.
"Pffthh... Oppa. Do you remember the first time we washed? It'd been months, and the water came out so filthy."
"I skipped dinner that day. Lost my appetite."
"Liar. You said the food was great that day and ate three packs of instant rice."
"Bullshit."
Truth is, I don't remember whether I ate or skipped.
The past always lodges itself in your head as the more intense, violent memories, leaving afterimages.
So what still lives vividly in my memory is the suggestive sound of water from back then, the humming, her voice spreading out like a sob.
I'd tried to focus on a book somehow, but I remember ending up in that particular agony and suffering unique to being a man.
"Really... I'm so glad it's you next to me, oppa."
"...I don't know. Just hurry up and get out."
"Heh, okaay~"
And it was the same now.
I still don't get why she has to park me right next to the booth every time she showers or she can't be satisfied.
Wiiiiirrr—
The sound of a hair dryer is always loud.
"Heeheehee, this is nice."
"Hold still. Don't turn your head."
"Okaay~"
Harin's hair had grown much longer than it was six months ago. It reached the small of her back now.
"Might be time for a cut."
"Hmm~ Do you like short hair, oppa?"
"Dunno. Short is more practical, I guess."
Shorter hair would save on the electricity it takes to dry it, after all.
"Hey hey, you're supposed to just tell me what you like. You kill the mood every single time."
"If it's just preference, I like it long."
"Then I won't cut it. Long hair plus black stockings: confirmed."
"What are you even saying."
She said that and lifted her head to look at me.
Her eyes curved into a smile, that bashful grin as pretty as always. Her hair was already mostly dry, swaying with a soft sheen.
"Woo."
"What's that supposed to mean."
"Pucker up."
"..."
A peck.
This was some seriously cringey shit too.
The kind of thing the old me would never have done. The kind of other people's stories I'd always found pretty disgusting.
"Oppa."
"What."
Harin squeezed my hand and kept pulling me into those kinds of stories.
"Shall we have a can of beer?"
"...After we just got clean."
"They say a beer after a shower, right before bed, is the best. Right? Right?"
The dryer's noise had already stopped, and she was leaning her body against mine.
"Fine, whatever."
"Hee, I knew you'd say yes, so I already thawed one."
I'd thought about it now and then.
Since those two months we'd been apart, her gestures and expressions had shifted, little by little. Looking at them now, the difference was pretty clear.
"..."
"I'll go get it."
Her smile was suggestive.