Yojora Won't Give Up (2)
"...Sunbae-nim."
I mulled it over for a moment before letting that slip out. Yojora was grinning ear to ear right in front of me, but who knew what sticky thoughts lurked beneath that smile. For now, it seemed like the healing-type transcendent had come sniffing around for one more attempt to lure me back. The real problem was what came next. What would she do if I turned her down? Would she just knock back a few more shots of soju and slink away? Or would she 'force' something on me?
Showing outright negativity in this situation wouldn't lead anywhere good. At the very least, my tone needed to stay compliant.
"Pfaha... Why would I be your sunbae, Woojin-ah...?"
"You said yesterday on the phone that you'd live a proper life."
Yojora tilted her head like it was no big deal and sidled closer. I naturally took a few steps back, but it was just slow retreating anyway. Before long, that familiar alcohol stench hit my nose again.
"A proper life...? You mean, like, working a job or something...?"
"...Yeah."
"Mm. Well, you've got skills worth taking anywhere... The government... or maybe the Hero Association..."
Yojora swayed her body happily, folding her fingers one by one. How could I persuade this drunkard? Was logical conversation even possible with her? As I racked my brain...
"Ah, whatever..."
"......"
She just hugged me tight and started rubbing her face against mine, leaving me momentarily stunned. Was she actually insane?
"Sunbae-nim, why all of a sudden...?"
"Why...? Honey trap. Honey... trap..."
With that, Yojora lifted her head slightly, looking up at me with a smile. Objectively—really objectively—ignoring her drunken antics, personality, and all that miscellaneous crap, and judging purely on looks... Yojora was the type you wanted to have. If she'd been a hero, I definitely would've done a background check on her.
Her navy hair resembled a night sky densely packed with stars. Those sweet, contrasting red eyes were enough to snag any man's gaze, whether back when I was a villain or now as the school nurse. She didn't exercise a lick, just guzzled booze every day, and yet here she was pressing against me—her face reaching my collarbone—with a body that was pointlessly perfect. The softness touching me here and there was part of it.
But those 'miscellaneous' bits I'd just set aside were exactly why I had no desire to get close to Yojora. This woman... her tastes in bed were the polar opposite of mine. That's why I'd ignored her call a few days before I died. A girl who always drank at bars suddenly inviting me over to drink at her place? It didn't take much thought to see through it. She wasn't calling me over to get fucked—she wanted to fuck me.
"It won't work. Like I told you before, you're not my type, sunbae-nim."
"Nooo. No way. If you wait, it'll work...? Guys all love boobs anyway... Just wait a bit more..."
Determined to seduce me come hell or high water, Yojora pressed harder with her arms, rubbing her tits against me more blatantly. The soft flesh hidden behind her bra squished prettily against my skin.
"If you joined our 'company,' Woojin, I could let you feel an even livelier sensation~..."
"No need."
"Don't lie... A kid who stopped wearing a uniform less than a year ago couldn't possibly hate tits..."
"Sigh..."
It was just that—no hand gripping my dick directly—so nothing embarrassing would happen... But more than that, the constant alcohol reek assaulting my nose was seriously unpleasant. PTSD, maybe? Memories flooded back of being dragged around by Yojora every damn day to play bartender.
Mediating when drunk Yojora picked pointless fights with people around us. Keeping up with the endless pours into my glass without breaking. Carrying her—once she was totally wasted—to the company or home or wherever was closest. Dealing with her whining the next day for me to cover the phone she'd smashed. And so on.
The shitty memories of being stuck with that lunatic filled my head one by one.
"...Sniff. Kinda smells like a girl down here too~..."
"......"
"Hehe. Nah, couldn't be... Woojinnie's reserved for noona~..."
With that, she rubbed her face against my chest once more, then grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the entrance.
I gave up resisting from the start. She'd just use her powers to yank me along easily.
"Here. Password."
"Sunbae-nim. Let's stop this."
"C'monnn... I even brought booze..."
"No need to try. My heart's already gone."
"That's why I came—to bring it back."
"...And your big plan was a honey trap?"
"Yup."
"......"
Headache. Arguing like this would just end in victory for the alcoholic. She'd spout whatever, and I'd have no choice but to play along. What now?
As irritation built up...
An idea flashed by. Why not drag her to some random bar and drink till she passed out?
It actually sounded pretty solid. Soak her disguise in booze, and she'd flop face-down on the table, twitching in deep sleep on her own. Sure, she'd show up every day bleeding me for drinks, or I'd have to shell out for a move—but call it the cost of a mad dog bite...
"...Sunbae-nim."
"Mm?"
"Since you came all this way in person, I'll at least hear you out."
"You will...?"
"Instead of my place, how about a bar?"
"...A bar?"
"Yeah. Cleaning up after drinking at home would be all on me later."
"Hmm... But I brought booze... Hope it doesn't go to waste..."
Yojora squeezed her eyes shut, pondering.
"...Whatever. Order expensive snacks and it'll be fine..."
Luckily, she had no attachment to my place and turned on her heel. I sighed in relief—but only briefly—as she kept my wrist gripped tight, dragging me helplessly behind her.
*****
Maybe because of the time, the bar Yojora led us to was packed to the gills.
"That kid I mentioned last time? He..."
"Excuse me, order please. I pressed the button but no one's coming."
"Fuck, this guy's just hogging all the snacks."
"This bastard's already wasted."
We wove through the noisy crowd and took a seat at a table guided by the server. Tucked in a corner—perfect for secretive talk.
...If we were really having that kind of conversation, we'd have gone to a place with private rooms, though.
"Soo... anyway..."
Yojora ordered a bunch of her favorite snacks without even asking me. Her eyes already glazed like she was buzzed, she started talking amid the din.
"What'll it take to work with noona...? Tell noona anything you need~..."
"Like I keep saying, I have no interest in working there."
"We pay a ton...? Later if Namho-hyung coughs up a fat wallet, might even add a zero to the promised amount...?"
"Not interested. I just need enough to get by."
"Hmmm..."
"That's why I said I'd live properly."
I couldn't exactly say, I took a job as a nurse at the academy to fuck heroes. Teacher at my age felt off, so now I'm a health committee member. So I bullshitted vaguely.
Oh yeah, this place had decent puffed snacks. I crunched a couple as appetizers, and Yojora continued.
"So how do you plan to live then...?"
"Huh?"
"You said properly... Wholesome and steady. What job you thinking...?"
"......"
Was she prodding to lure me by saying it'd be easier sticking with her side no matter what? I wasn't sure of her intent, but my answer was set.
Academy nurse. It meant siding with heroes over villains, which could sour the mood. Healing-type transcendents were prime picks for famous heroes' sidekicks. Same issue. No need to poke Yojora's nerves.
Only option left: plaster on a poker face, take the 1000cc beer mug from the server, and say,
"Thinking of doing volunteer work."
"Volun—what...? Volunteer...?"
"Yeah. Domestic or abroad."
Yojora held her beer mug with both hands, staring at me like I was the world's biggest idiot.
...Getting that look from a brainless drunk who only thought about booze actually pissed me off more than expected.
"Ditching cozy work with me for volunteer shit...?"
"Gives a sense of accomplishment. Feels rewarding. Nice, right?"
"No... You've got trucks of patients willing to pay millions to get healed by you..."
I knew. I'd ripped off those wallets to afford my one-room. No way I'd forget.
But play dumb. Act like I was striving for a beautiful world. Spout the hypocrisy.
"Money's just material. I'd rather see terminally ill patients smile brightly..."
"Fucking lunatic..."
Before I could finish my retarded line—even I thought it was dumb—Yojora set down her mug and muttered, rubbing her arm like she couldn't stomach it.
"Joking, right...? You used to say 'Villains are more honest and cool than fake-ass heroes,' and toured the company... Now what? Volunteer...?"
"...I was young and dumb back then."
"Young and dumb? What the hell...?"
"......"
"...Anyway, if it's not money, I've got some...?"
"......"
"As a healing-type transcendent, you'd spend lots of alone time with me... Even then...?"
"Yeah."
"......"
Had I bruised her ego? Or was she frustrated by my picking only idiotic answers? Yojora's brow furrowed slightly—always loose and smiling before. I'd only seen that face once, when I'd secretly swiped Haagen-Dazs from the company fridge.
Just write me off as a total psycho and fuck off already. For the apartment... I could hunt for a new one tomorrow. Whether she'd track the address, I'd deal with it then. Maybe even get help from the academy principal.
By now, her ordered snacks started arriving. First up: squid-butter sauté. One of her favorites—she always got the butter ones.
Time for a toast soon. As I fiddled with my glass, recalling her habits...
"...Ahem."
"...?"
"...If you joined our company..."
"...?"
"...We could do stuff like this... on the sly~...?"
"......"
A smooth foot started nudging my shin under the square table. A bare, pale foot stretching from black dolphin pants—no stockings or socks. Problem was, this was public, packed with people. Unlike fiction where no one notices till the end, a passing server or the rowdy college kids next table would spot the under-table action in a heartbeat.
"Sunbae."
"Hehe..."
I stiffened in panic, and only then did she grin like she'd won, all smiles again. She gulped her beer without a toast, her movements growing bolder. The foot stroking my shin tapped my knee. Then wedged forcefully between, sliding up my thigh toward the inside, slowly.
Her foot was cold. Well, dressed like that in winter, no wonder. Always drunk, so she probably didn't feel it much.
Thus intruding, Yojora's foot wriggled between my thighs. Playfully. This'll make you squirm, huh?
"......"
"How's that...? Wanna work with noona...?"
Pranksters all had the same mindset. They did it because the reaction was fun. Best way to end it: utter indifference. The kind that'd embarrass her.
So I chugged my beer like her—no toast—then quietly chewed a piece of butter squid.
"......"
"......"
I figured she'd stop on her own if I waited.
"...Hehe... If you like this, just say soo..."
"......"
"Well, a kid who was in high school three months ago couldn't hate this~... Pfuhuhu..."
I'd forgotten how stupider than expected Yojora was. Mistaking my indifference for tacit consent.
"...Where should noona make it feel even better~...?"
"Sunbae."
I finally opened my mouth, but too late. Her foot had already slipped into my crotch, pressing and kneading the tip with her toes.
Squish. Squish. ...Squissshh...? Squish.
After seven or eight times, it pulled back briefly, then tilted her head oddly and pressed again. ...Squissshh.
...Was she wondering why I wasn't hard despite her doing this to someone on her level? I tabled the interpretation, checked the stares from the next table...
"...Ow...!"
"Don't."
I pinched her toes in retaliation. Too many eyes— this was dangerous bullshit.
"Anyway, no plans to go back."
"......"
"You listening?"
"...Huh? ...Yeah."
"Even if you offer money, or keep doing weird shit, same answer. Give up."
"......"
Did it sink in? She stared blankly at my face, nodding. Unlike the rowdy surroundings, we just quietly gulped our drinks.
Yojora's face flushed red—drunk now. Quieter than before, we clinked glasses occasionally as she, slurring heavily, mixed her bought soju into the draft beer.
Gulp, gulp.