Date (4): The Giant Cat Doll and Jealousy
After filling up on simple pub grub, they sipped highballs with some snacks, savoring the serene atmosphere. Jeong Ha-yeon seemed to love this unique solo-drinking spot, clinking glasses with him over and over. Once they'd gotten nicely buzzed, the two left the bar and strolled down 1st Street.
The cool night breeze brushing their cheeks cooled the flush from the alcohol on their faces. As they walked, Seo Joo-hwan's eyes caught sight of a massive stuffed doll. A gray cat plush with fierce eyes and a crooked grin. It was a prize from the arcade shooting game.
"Ha-yeon, what do you think of that one?"
"Huh? A cat doll? It's pretty cute."
"Want me to win it for you?"
"Right now? You've been drinking."
"Psh. Don't worry—I'm a top marksman, you know."
In truth, he'd never hit a perfect score before. And though it hadn't been long since his discharge in this life, his last real shooting experience in active duty was nearly a decade ago. He couldn't even remember how many shots he'd landed back then. But the classic male ego had kicked in. That stubborn urge to obsess over something trivial and show off in front of a girl—especially his girlfriend.
"Just wait right there. I'll grab it for you in no time."
He put on a playful tone to mask his bravado, but it wasn't entirely baseless confidence. Seo Joo-hwan paid up, shouldered the gun, and chanted inwardly.
Concentration Blessing, 5 minutes.
Focus and cognitive abilities increased for 5 minutes.
He had cheats. More than one, even.
The arcade shooter counted as a game, so the effect applied in full. Seo Joo-hwan closed one eye and fixed his gaze on the targets. His vision expanded, just like when he used Park Tu's special ability. The left-right moving targets came into sharp focus.
He took a deep breath—swoop—held it, and pulled the trigger.
Tung! The dull crack of the arcade gun. The lowest-scoring 10-point target toppled first.
He had no idea how shooting related to sex, but his first shot lucked into a perfect bullseye. Getting the feel, Seo Joo-hwan fired rapidly. Lingering too long meant he couldn't max out before time ran out.
Tung! Tung! Tung! Tung!
Higher-score targets fell in sequence. Once even the lowest ones were down, the targets reset. Now they added up-down movement to the left-right sway.
But his trigger speed didn't falter. Gunshots rang out in succession, toppling everything again.
Geeng— The final targets rose. Four tiny ones, barely visible, now zigzagged diagonally in irregular patterns.
Tung! Tung! Tung! Three shots, one target left. One bullet remaining.
The arcade owner watched tensely, eyes on the gun in Seo Joo-hwan's hands.
'I definitely shorted it one bullet, right? Or did I load full by mistake?'
Seo Joo-hwan didn't know, but arcade shooters often had tricks rigged in. Like jamming a bullet midway or preventing the last target from falling. If a customer complained, they'd demo it themselves: "Works fine here?"—making the player look like an idiot.
The blessing chimed relentlessly. Seo Joo-hwan's finger squeezed the trigger.
Tung! The shot fired normally. Thwack! The last target fell cleanly.
*
Seo Joo-hwan took the giant cat doll from the grimacing owner. He scanned around for Jeong Ha-yeon. She'd vanished—maybe to the bathroom?
Then her voice came from one side.
"I have a boyfriend."
Seo Joo-hwan whipped his head around.
*
Who knew how many times today. The incessant pick-up attempts grated on Jeong Ha-yeon like never before. She'd been hit on plenty in life, but today was excessive. Sure, she'd dolled up, but this wasn't a hunting bar or club—four times in one day was ridiculous.
"No, sorry."
Irritation seeped into her refusal. The blond guy faltered, then tried again.
"Not asking for anything now—just meet once? If it's too much, I'll give you my number."
What confidence—giving his number like she'd call. "I have a boyfriend."
Jeong Ha-yeon stated it flatly, like a knife-proof wall. She even pointed straight at Seo Joo-hwan's spot. Boyfriend's right here.
'Just leave already.' If he pushed further, she'd unleash the curses bubbling up.
She'd been on her best behavior around Seo Joo-hwan lately, but that didn't extend to randos.
"Ah... sorry. Have a good time."
Despite his thug-ish look, the blond bowed politely and left. She almost felt bad for shutting him down so hard.
But Jeong Ha-yeon soon thanked her icy tone.
"Ha-yeon..."
Seo Joo-hwan stood there, giant cat in arms, face stiff. He'd seen the whole thing.
*
They left 1st Street and headed to his place. Their steps dragged listlessly.
Jeong Ha-yeon glanced up at him. His face was blank, lost in thought. It'd been like that since the arcade.
His silent brooding annoyed her. 'I didn't do anything wrong.'
She wasn't flaunting herself to lure guys. But she couldn't whine aloud—he hadn't accused her of anything.
'If he just said something, I'd feel better.' They'd talk it out. Instead, silence. When she apologized, he insisted she hadn't done wrong—don't apologize.
"Haa."
Jeong Ha-yeon sighed softly. Logically, he was right. She was innocent. But love wasn't pure logic. It was petty grumbles over nothing, emotional tugs, fights and make-ups—sharing feelings that way.
But Seo Joo-hwan, solo for over thirty years, was rationally detached in the dumbest ways. Even his "I'm fine" mask felt stiff and forced.
If one of them was dating-savvy, it'd be easy. But both were hopeless.
She had no clue how to cheer up her sulky boyfriend. Unable to bear the quiet, she spoke first.
"Joo-hwan, let me carry some. Why hog it all?"
He had the giant cat tucked under one arm, shopping bags in both hands. She'd offered, but he repeated himself.
"It's fine. Not heavy."
Silence again.
'Driving me crazy.'
At first, his jealousy thrilled her. But repeated so soon? Maddening. She felt guilty—the cause was her.
Plod, plod. Slow steps still reached home. They arrived at his apartment.
"Here, take these."
He handed over the doll and bags. Jeong Ha-yeon stared, lips twitching, then murmured.
"...Wanna grab some coffee before you go?"
His eyes widened. Worried he'd misunderstand, she rushed to add,
"Nothing else—just coffee!"
*
"Room's kinda barren, huh? I hate clutter."
Jeong Ha-yeon smiled awkwardly. True enough—the sparse space was bed and wardrobe, no frills or vanity.
'Not what I expected.' He'd pictured pink fluff and plushies. But this suited her.
"Just set the stuff in the corner. I'll make coffee."
He placed the bags aside, tossed the smirking cat onto the bed. Seated, Seo Joo-hwan dazedly watched her back, replaying the arcade.
'Why'd the blessing keep triggering?'
He'd thought it was shooting luck at first. But seeing the guy approach her after? No.
Today, the messages popped only when guys hit on Ha-yeon.
'How's that lucky?'
First time? Whatever—she shut him down cold, and damn, she looked stunning today.
Second? Anger surged. Guy asks for her number right beside him? Fists clenched.
Theater, third time? Couldn't hide his unease—made her worry.
But a drink at Sami-gwan shook it off. Owner's "you two suit each other" hit nice.
Last one—at the arcade—rage boiled. But her handling cooled him. And the question: why the constant blessing?
Lost in thought, they'd arrived. Now he was inside.
'Was gonna head out.' After yesterday's rejection, he'd planned short. But she'd invited him.
'Ah, that's it.' Entering clicked the blessing's intent. Smooth date, polite goodbye—no invite. Too soon after last night.
Seo Joo-hwan stood, approached slowly. As she tore a coffee stick packet, he hugged her from behind.
"...Joo-hwan?"
"Sorry. For worrying you."
How'd his brooding look? She'd mulled it over too—hence inviting him.
Jeong Ha-yeon set the stick down, placed hands on his arms.
"...Feeling better?"
"Wasn't mad."
"Liar. You didn't say a word the whole way."
She grumbled sulkily. But a small smile tugged her lips. Dummy kept me worrying...
"For real. Not mad at you. Just..."
"Just?"
He hesitated. Body twenty-three, mind thirty-three. Zero dating XP past thirty—sappy words stuck in his throat. Compliments? Easy. But this?
Still, gotta say it. Seo Joo-hwan mumbled softly.
"Just... jealous, yeah. Got jealous."
"......"
"You're so pretty, Ha-yeon. Four guys today alone. Made me jealous, like maybe I'm not enough, and..."
Good she faced away. Voicing vague gut feelings? Mortifying. Face burning, he continued.
"...Scared you'd get stolen away."
Lifelong first. System changed him tons, yet old timid him peeked out.
Silence. Then she unwrapped his arms, turned—face flushed, glaring.
"You idiot... Worrying over stupid crap."
"Haha. Sorry."
"Don't laugh. Annoys me."
"...Cry then?"
"Lame. Drink your coffee."
"Yeah."
"And..."
She added softly.
"...Stay over tonight."