One-Room Apartment (2)
Nothing hurt anymore. Not even a little. Not when I jumped in place—hop, hop. Not when I tried a light jog either. My ankle, which had been twisted and swollen like a balloon, was back to perfect condition. Normally, an injury like that would've kept me sidelined for weeks, scrambling to pick up extra shifts at my part-time job.
But in less than three minutes...
...thanks to Woojin.
Heh, hum. Yeah. No doubt about it. He's totally into me.
A healing-type transcendent like him? You could name your price, but he keeps fixing me up for free, smooth as silk? What's the only logical explanation? He likes me.
Right? I mean, when I casually tested the waters in front of that convenience store, he straight-up said pretty girls were all good. And this even after I brought up Jiyoon, who's way more popular than me.
"...Yoon."
"......"
"Lee Hayun."
"...Ah, y-yes, sir!"
"Shall we call it a day? You don't look so hot."
"No, I'm fine. I'll snap out of it."
I mean, he swooped in all heroic-like and saved me from that near-car accident. How could he not fall at first sight? Jiyoon might be one thing, but I'm no slouch in the looks department either.
Sometimes I see those internet stories—"Dated a Hero.txt"—and they all start pretty much the same way, right?
But what now, Woojin? Your big sis isn't that easy.
That weird kiss that made me gulp down saliva like crazy.
...And fiddling with my thigh until everything down there was soaked.
All the sneaky stuff he pulled while Jiyoon was in the bathroom.
It wasn't a big deal or anything. Just... novel, since it was my first time.
...I've had guy friends, sure, but never a boyfriend. No one to teach me.
At best, I'd overheard friends chatting—what feels good, what doesn't—and jotted mental notes.
...Huh...?
But my thigh? I'd never heard about that feeling good. And it felt amazing.
Why? Did the girls skip over thighs? No way.
Or... was it good because Woojin was touching it...?
......
...Ughhh. Why do I keep thinking like that...?
"Let's see. Setting the location back to the bustling streets..."
As Woojin prodded my healed right foot against the ground, the floor beneath me swiftly morphed into asphalt pavement. The murmur of city noise followed—honking horns, hurried footsteps blending with exhaust fumes.
Some random spot in Seoul, probably. Whatever. It was always a random image pulled and recreated pixel-perfect, just like the real thing.
"This time, let's aim for subduing the villain without getting hurt. Got it?"
"...S-sorry about earlier..."
"No worries. Happens all the time on the job. Just caught me off guard since it's been a while."
...Alright. Focus this time. No mistakes.
If I get hurt again, I'll have to see Woojin's face.
Which means swinging by the main building's infirmary—no choice.
Which means getting treated alone with him—no choice.
Which means things getting weird again—no choice.
...A kiss. What if he does it again?
"Starting now. Lee Hayun. Five-minute limit."
"Y-yes, sir...!"
Of course, as the big sis? I could take the lead if I wanted?
But... what if?
"Alarm in 30 seconds. Then go."
...Yeah. Even if I get hurt, I'll play it off like I'm fine...
*****
"Ten minutes already?"
"......"
Disaster.
"Sending you back again, sis."
"......"
Seo Woojin sat in the infirmary chair, tapping away at his laptop. He flashed a grin that screamed pathetic.
Why'd some dumb stray thought sneak in at the very last second...?
If not for that, I wouldn't be crawling back to Woojin after just ten minutes.
"What about you, teacher? Looked like sis clocked you good earlier—huge bruise on your shoulder."
"This time it was me slamming into a building wall..."
"Building wall?"
"Yeah..."
"Maybe use a weapon? Hardly any pure hand-to-hand heroes out there anyway."
"...That stuff costs money."
"Ah."
How's a guy dropping millions like pocket change supposed to get that? Healing-types must be clueless about weapon prices.
I closed the infirmary door with my good hand and slipped inside carefully.
"Wrist this time?"
"...Yeah..."
"Not too bad. No major swelling."
"......"
But Woojin didn't try anything shady. Calling it "shady" felt off, but point is, he kept it quiet.
I'd flinched, half-expecting him to pounce the second he walked toward me—bed's right there, after all—but he just sat beside me, still as stone.
When he gently reached out, I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for a boob grab. Nope—just carefully took my arm and lightly gripped the puffy wrist.
...Am I the only one on edge here?
The only one obsessing over last night?
I cleared my throat—ahem, ahem—for no reason.
No way he forgot last night, right? When I stopped by the infirmary this morning, I straight-up asked if he remembered everything from yesterday.
...Ah! Maybe when he said "nothing much," he meant the robbery, not the kiss and thigh stuff?
But calling a robbery "no big deal" seems off.
...Ah! Or maybe the kiss blanked his memory, so he's pretending the robbery never happened to ease my mind?
But I kinda gave a weird answer already...
Overthinking like a game of rock-paper-scissors was making my head explode.
Save me.
"Hold still. Not that bad, right?"
"...It h-hurts a lot...?"
"If you can talk, it's not that bad."
"......"
"Starting now, sis."
"...Okay."
He didn't try anything when I first came in. Didn't when we sat on the bed.
So now he'll go for it, right? Grab my chest, kiss me like last night, whatever! Guys love that stuff...!
As big sis—yeah. Fan service.
If he wants it, I can indulge a little.
Though I'd stop him if he went full wild animal.
Just the two of us in the quiet infirmary. I was prepped, mentally mapped out every cool big-sis response if he lunged.
I nodded warily.
"......"
"......"
But.
Nothing.
Exactly like before. No incidents.
The mood screamed last night redux, but nope. Nothing.
My sprained, swollen wrist just shrank back to normal.
Why isn't he trying anything?
N-not that I'm begging for it, but after jumping straight to kissing last night, shouldn't he at least attempt some light skinship?
I had my line ready for a boob grab: "This is the academy—save that for when we meet up later."
For another kiss: "You like this?" then take control for a sec, tongues and all...
I'd planned it all...
"All done."
"......"
"Sis. Done."
"...I know. I heard."
Training center infirmary had two other teachers, so fair enough.
But now? Door locked tight, just us, and still nothing...?
"......"
What if...
Am I the only one freaking out...?
Only me thinking dirty thoughts...?
Woojin has no plans 'cause it's the academy...?
"I'm heading out. ...Thanks for the heal."
"No biggie. It's my job. Come anytime, even if you get banged up again."
...I wanna die. Me. Total delusion case.
*****
Time guarding the infirmary: 9 a.m. to 6 p.m.
Number of times I treated Lee Hayun: four, including removing her cast.
I wasn't one for humming, but today I found myself whistling a jaunty tune without realizing. Not exactly chart-topping vocals, but who cares? Empty room.
First time Lee Hayun came crawling back: I could see her tension—bracing for a repeat of last night—so I deliberately did nothing and let her go.
She's all geared up at 100%, any poke would just get a boring reaction. After treatment, that baffled look melting into flushed cheeks as she bolted? Priceless.
Second time: Ankle sprain again. She hobbled in leaning on that combat instructor's shoulder.
Another guy's scent on her? Mildly annoying, but I brushed it off. With the teacher there, fresh off no funny business, she was wide open—until I sidled close, freezing her like a glitchy robot. Teased the edge of touching, then released.
Post-treatment: Ditched the waiting teacher and fled. Results satisfied, so whatever.
Third time: I went to her. Four broken fingers already, so I gripped lightly and healed.
Twice burned, she figured nothing would happen. Face said it all, but having a guy hold her fingers made her ears pink now and then—itchy, huh?
And I snagged a promise from her fidgeting fingers.
Nothing major, but her answer dragged—wild imagination?—still, it was yes.
A reluctant, shaky nod yes.
"Hm... hmmm..."
Coffee needs roasting. Raw beans are harsh, simple, fishy. Roasting unlocks diverse, complex flavors. Essential for tasty brew—fun process, tweaking fire, method, time.
What's the flavor? The aroma?
People too.
"L-Let's go, Woojin."
"Sure."
"So, daily essentials? You want me picking 'em out?"
"Yeah. No clue on that stuff. Got a hairdryer, computer, water, TP... Can't keep ordering delivery forever."
"Parents?"
"Living solo nearby. Ten-pyeong one-room."
"...S-Solo living, huh. Hng..."
Lee Hayun. When will she crumble alone?
"Budget's no issue—pick anything."
"Cheap place anyway. Daiso, Emart... Homeplus a bit farther."
"Daiso... Wait, I gotta carry the stuff again?"
"You want me to?"
"Kidding. My stuff, I'll carry."
"...F-Fine, I'll help a little. Happy?"
"A little?"
"That's enough..."
Click. The infirmary door shut.