Jo Jeong
Jo Jeong's full-throated number came to an end, and the accompaniment that had been filling the room clicked off. She blew out a long, satisfied breath, set the microphone down, and turned her eyes on me, tossing the words out like they weighed nothing.
"Review."
Short, but it hit hard. Before I could so much as argue, the thought already sitting in my head came flying out on its own.
"That was insane."
No hedging, no sarcasm—pure admiration. If anyone wanted to know why I'd score someone who'd opened on a voice crack like that, the answer was simple. This girl wasn't ashamed in the least.
Sing badly and flinch from it, and all you are is someone who can't sing. Stand there that brazenly, though, and you become the person who lifts the whole room. She had a good, clean belt on her, too. Leave out the cracks and the notes that wouldn't quite sit, and there was something genuinely refreshing about a voice thrown that wide, with nothing held back.
And above all else, she had soul—the kind that shows itself, impossible to hide, when you love something with everything you've got. On that alone, I found myself giving her song a very generous score.
A quiet satisfaction crept across Jo Jeong's blank face as she took in my review. She didn't show much, but she was probably happy to have been praised.
A moment later she picked the microphone up again and held it out to me.
"Then it's your turn."
I took it with a crooked little grin.
"Alright. Let me show you what real singing sounds like."
I said it with every ounce of bravado I had, and got to my feet.
About four minutes later, my own full-throated performance came to an end, and I set the microphone down.
A dull thump broke the quiet, and then came laughter. Jo Jeong had her head bowed, shoulders shaking, giggling helplessly at my song.
Unbelievable. I hadn't laughed, and I'd even praised her.
"You're laughing?"
Out of sheer indignation, I put on a show of getting angry. Jo Jeong didn't so much as pretend to hear me. She kept leaking little laughs, and then she said it.
"Well. You sang it like that on purpose."
"What."
"...You didn't?"
I looked at her with a slightly wounded expression, and she offered a quiet, "...Sorry?" A strange guilt had settled over her dazed face.
Silence held for a little while. Caught in it, Jo Jeong's eyes began to flick back and forth, as if she had no idea what she was supposed to do now—
"Pfft—hahaha!"
I couldn't hold it. The laugh burst out of me.
"...H-huh."
For a second she just stared, utterly lost. I savored the look for a moment before I spoke.
"Ah, your reaction's hilarious. I was just messing with you."
"Messing with me?"
"Yeah. I was annoyed. That thing you said during ranked yesterday. I mean, the song—like you said, I did sing it that way on purpose. But watching you laugh right in my face, that was a little annoying too, you know?"
"......"
And then—
"...Die."
She closed the distance in a few long strides, raised one finger, and started jabbing me. Poke, poke, poke. Caught in that awful middle ground between ticklish and painful, a scream tore out of me on its own.
"Aack! Hey, you laughed first—ow! That hurts, you jerk! Stop!"
"Then die."
"Gyaaah!"
Only after a prolonged assault of finger-jabs was I finally set free.
By the time my side was practically in ribbons, Jo Jeong at last drew back. Only then could I clutch my throbbing waist and haul myself upright.
Watching me groan, she seemed to have gotten it out of her system. She picked up the remote, put a song on, snatched the microphone, and started singing as if nothing had happened. She'd been fuming a moment ago, and now she was right back to her own business. Honestly impressive.
When the song ended, she held the mic out to me with a look that was somehow refreshed.
Probably meant we should take turns, one each. I took it.
I queued up a song I remembered, and right before I started—
"This time, properly."
She said it like a warning.
...Right. This time I actually have to sing it for real.
Time passed, until Jo Jeong and I had each gotten through about five songs. Fresh off the last one, I dropped onto the sofa and set the microphone down.
"You're good, you know."
"Thanks. More than that, singing after this long is exhausting."
"Old."
"Excuse me. I'll have you know we're only three years apart."
"Old man."
Ugh, damn it... just let it go.
A completely baseless age attack got under my skin for no good reason at all, and I swallowed the irritation. Whether I did or not, Jo Jeong let out a small breath of a laugh, tapped at the remote, and said:
"Last song. Together."
She didn't so much as ask if I agreed before starting it on her own—and, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, held a microphone out to me.
"And what exactly did you do with my say in this? Sell it?"
"You're gonna do it anyway."
...She wasn't wrong.
Even if we'd only ever known each other in-game, four years was four years, and she knew far too well that a good shove was all it took. It was also a tidy way to deal with the one song left hanging, so I didn't really have a reason to refuse.
So what was this? Something I'd heard somewhere... oh. I remembered.
A duet that had been popular quite a while back. The gist of it, if I recalled—
A couple picking apart each other's faults and locking horns.
It wasn't really a battle of wills, honestly. More like the two of them sniping at each other while they waited to see who'd confess first. That was just how it had felt to me back then.
I was turning that old impression over again when Jo Jeong bumped my arm with her elbow. I glanced over to see why, and she pointed at the screen.
"Huh? ...Oh, my part. Ahem."
Whatever. Who cared what the song was about. Sing it, have fun, and be done.
I cleared my throat and started in alongside her.
Not long after the duet ended, I was staring blankly at the screen. I'd only just managed to get through the whole thing by fumbling along on memory, and the words had come up.
See you next time!
"Have you sung this one a lot?"
"Huh? Not a lot, just sometimes...? Why?"
"Because you're good at it."
"...Pretty sure you said something like that earlier. Thanks, I guess?"
What was with her today—acting strange, and generous with the praise on top of it. Had she eaten something weird? That couldn't be it. From what I'd heard, she hadn't even had breakfast, so the hamburger from earlier was probably the end of it...
I was wearing a sullen look at the odd behavior she'd been showing since morning when she spoke, quietly.
"You must've practiced a lot."
The tone was the kind that fishes, casual as anything—was there someone you used to sing with? A faint darkness lay over her expressionless face.
I watched her for a moment, read the air, and carefully opened my mouth.
"...You jealous? Ugh, come on. How long have we known each other. That's gross."
At that, Jo Jeong's expression eased at once—
"As if."
—and that was her answer.
Right. We'd only met in person yesterday and today. No way something like jealousy was going to sprout.
Maybe to answer that very thought, she opened her mouth again almost immediately.
"I'm envious. That there's someone who'd go as far as practicing, just to sing for you."
The words were... hmm. They sank the mood pretty hard. And honestly, wasn't that fair? You're singing along just fine, and then something like that drops and the whole room goes flat. Coming from her, of all people—someone who'd looked like she had zero interest in this kind of thing.
Whether I felt that way or not, Jo Jeong kept going.
"...More than anything, I envy the person on the receiving end even more. Because it means they're loved enough that someone would practice just to sing for them."
As if she herself had never been that person. As if there had never been anyone to do it for her. She let the bitterness show without hiding a bit of it, and only stared blankly at the screen in front of her.
Okay. I understood what she was saying. I understood why the conversation had gone there, too. But—but, look, I was really sorry, except—
"I don't have a girlfriend. And the singing practice wasn't the kind of thing you're picturing, either."
This one thing, I had to correct.
Why was this kid turning one perfectly good single person into half of a couple? She was even painting it like we were some pair of lovebirds.
That, I absolutely could not let stand.
Our time in the karaoke room—long or short, depending how you looked at it—ended with me clearing up the strange misunderstanding Jo Jeong had been carrying. Calling it a misunderstanding was a bit of a stretch, honestly, but it was more comfortable to think of it that way, so a misunderstanding it became. At any rate, the moment we stepped out of the building, the chill of an autumn night struck both our cheeks at once.
The one small mercy was that I'd dressed fairly warm. The girl beside me, on the other hand...
"It's cold."
"That's what happens when you throw on a couple of thin layers and come outside."
"They're not thin. The weather's cold."
"How is a shirt and one cardigan not thin? What, is a puffer jacket body armor now?"
"......"
A sharp glare. Jo Jeong scrunched into a sulk and stared me down hard.
What? I was right. She'd dressed thin and then wanted to give me grief about it? No.
My comeback clearly hadn't landed. She kept glaring, so I glared right back—both of us putting real force behind our eyes, locked in a long, silent standoff.
"...Pfft."
"Heh—haha."
I couldn't have said why, but we broke at the same time, and that was the end of it.
"Sorry. About earlier. For bringing up something I didn't need to."
"Huh? Why are you apologizing over something like that?"
"But I misspoke, and the mood got bad."
"Come on, what misspoke. If we're counting, I should be the one who's sorry. How were you supposed to know whether I had someone like that or not?"
"...Yeah. Thanks."
"More importantly, let's hurry. If I miss the last train, I can't get home."
"Okay. From here on, we walk fast."
And off we went, talking our fill the whole way, until whatever dark mood we'd carried out of the karaoke room was nowhere to be found.
"I didn't think we'd see each other again today. I figured yesterday was a one-time thing."
"Same here, but somehow the reward started looking pretty tempting."
"I don't care about the rest, but that limited-edition cosmetic—if I don't get that, I'll die."
"Heh. Can't argue with that."
We walked, and walked, and walked some more, until at last we were standing in front of the ticket gate. I'd been chattering away; once we got there, I quietly pulled out my wallet. Jo Jeong watched me, hesitated, started to say something, and closed her mouth again. She looked like she was wavering over whether she ought to say it at all, so I waited a moment, then spoke.
"What? Got something to say?"
"...Mm."
"What is it. Say it quick. I've gotta go."
At that, Jo Jeong kept her mouth shut for a long while. The train was already on its way and we were cutting it close, and she simply would not speak. It was maddening.
One minute. Two. I'd waited and waited, and I was just about to tap my card when—
"......Tomorrow. You'll come too?"
A small, definite tug. I felt it at my sleeve.
And here I'd thought it was going to be something else. I'd half expected her to ask me to take her home and let her sleep over, or to announce that she was, in fact, a guy.
It was a much smaller question than I'd braced for. I answered with a short laugh.
"Course I will."
"...Yeah. Then it's fine. We have to get all the rewards."
"Yeah, yeah. I'll keep coming until we've claimed every last one, so don't you fret."
"Okay. See you tomorrow. Get home safe."
"You get in safe too. I'll text you when I get there tonight."
She nodded, and only then did the tension leave her face as she let me go. After that, just like yesterday, she saw me off with a light flutter of her hand.
......I should come a little earlier tomorrow.