Of Pocky and Pepero

SUMMARY: A South Korean transfer student is struggling to adjust to her new life here in Japan, that included getting used to the strange boy who she's been sitting next to for the past month. OC

Chapter 20: Picture

NOTEWORTHY: This is…an intermission. The bathroom is over there, and foods and drinks are over there.

The day after sending her letter, Soo-Jin regretted her decision. It was on the spur of the moment, having her mail flying overseas to Japan and to the hands of her penpal with her picture in it. Seriously, what was she thinking? Nothing—she wasn't thinking at all, that's what! Just what made her think sending a photo of her to Shintaro was such a good idea anyway? She didn't know much about him other than being a weirdo and a stickler.

But most importantly, he was a stranger. A stranger. A stranger who could do heinous things with her picture, like rob a bank while using her face as a cover-up or draw a mustache on her. Or something. Soo-Jin couldn't think of anything else past the robbing the bank part (her imagination was mediocre). Nevertheless, she had a feeling that sending her picture to her penpal was a bad idea.

That until she received his mail.

What was that about female intuition? That it's never wrong? Soo-Jin tested that theory more than enough times to have it be officially disapproved. She let female intuition scribble down whatever answers on the test sheet when she forgot to study the day before; she let female intuition make her tell her friend that she should get back together with her ex-boyfriend; she let female intuition convince her that the milk that she vaguely recalled sitting in the back of the fridge for the past two months wasn't expired.

Or it could be that her female intuition was as good as a retarded monkey caused by some sort of mutation during her mother's pregnancy; for all she knew, she probably had the same acuity of Charlie Sheen (or so internet informed her of him). That would explain why her test scores were dauntingly low, or why her friend contemplated on the meaning of life (which resulted her parents sending her off to a psychiatrist), or why she suffered from explosive diarrhea for two and a half hours straight.

Anyway, the point? Soo-Jin definitely misjudged Shintaro. Sure, there were plenty of middle school boys who did strange things, and her penpal could be one of them. But the weird sort he was placed in would be categorized as being outlandish as counting the number of grass stems growing in his yard. She really should ignore the little voice in her head whenever it prattled on and on.

Holding his letter, she could feel that the envelope was a bit heavier than usual. He either wrote her a three page long essay or sent her a picture of him. She really didn't think that he would do the latter until the contents fell onto the table. She was shocked that she ended up being right.

Soo-Jin grabbed the letter and very briefly scanned over what was written. Shintaro didn't write much like the few letters he wrote before. Her lips curved downwards at the amount, wondering if he was taking their exchange loosely (but, then, if he wanted to stop writing to her, he would've told her), but later they immediately quirked upwards after reading what it said.

Unconsciously, she raised her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose before making a grab for the picture. She always had a faint description of what Shintaro would look like in her head, but it was nothing like the real deal.

He was unexpectedly pretty.

Never did she imagine her thinking of a guy like that.

He wore glasses too, Soo-Jin thought absently. His expression was impassive, with his eyes appearing sharp and his mouth pulled into a thin line, which wasn't much of a surprise, frankly; from their mails, Shintaro never struck her as the smiley type. Although, his skin was clear, unlike the boys (and, yes, even the girls) in her class. She wondered how he never had a breakout when he had to juggle between basketball and schoolwork, unless he dealt with stress well; maybe he had this picture taken beforehand.

Soo-Jin noticed that she was observing the boy's picture for awhile. It wasn't like he was particularly handsome or anything...however… Her eyes were trained on the most salient feature: his eyelashes. They were so long! That was what made her think of Shintaro as pretty—he had the gaze of a solemn princess! Those eyelashes. Did he ever feel self-conscious of them? Did he ever think of trimming them?

Now that she stared at them for quite a long time, she saw that his eyes were rather long and narrow and clear—he had appealing eyes. And, although hidden behind a curtain of hair (why the heck did he had to have thick bangs), she could see that he had relatively thin eyebrows…almost as thin as a girl's plucked ones.

He…seriously had some princess genes in him.

Soo-Jin burst out laughing and dashed to her room. She eagerly threw a sheet of paper on her desk while she rummaged through her drawers to find a pen. And, then, she froze.

She shouldn't write to Shintaro about his eyelashes. They were treading on rocky waters already.

It was surprising to find that the boy had trusted her enough to send her a photo of him. Perhaps she had prompted him in doing so when she first sent him her picture. In a way, they were getting closer all because of this exchange. Nevertheless, she had to be careful; she knew that if she wrote to him about his princess genes, he would flip. Better think of an alternative…

Soo-Jin plopped down on her seat and crossed her arms, deliberating as to what she should write. She, without a doubt, just had to put something relative to his face onto the paper. She had to; she wanted to. She could compliment him? But that would sound like she would be flirting with him, and she didn't want that!

The girl sat there for a few minutes until her phone beeped, bringing her attention that someone texted her. Picking up the phone, Soo-Jin saw that it was one of her friends. Apparently, Yoon-Hee wanted her CD back.

I didn't even listen to it, thought Soo-Jin as she rummaged through her bag. She pulled out the CD and examined the front. The broad white title spelled out BEAST (1), and underneath it were the six band members. In right, she recognized Yong Jun-Hyung, the main rapper of the group. How did she know? Yoon-Hee made it her duty to fangirl about him at every opportunity she received.

Yong Jun-Hyung was good-looking, Soo-Jin acceded, like every other pretty boy who got signed up for the music industry.

Then she was struck with an idea. She set the CD down and began writing her letter to Shintaro. He looked nothing like the rapper, but it's not like it would matter. He didn't seem the type who would have much interest in K-pop stars to look him up. All that mattered was that her letter was short and sweet and enough to momentarily grate his nerves (although it seemed like whatever she wrote to him annoyed him—what's up with that?)

Dear Won Soo-Jin,

You wear glasses. Interesting.

Very well, I will do the same.

Also, don't call me Taro-Taro.

From, Midorima Shintaro

Dear Shintaro,

Wow! Look at you! You look like Yong Jun-Hyung with glasses! I'll frame it.

With care,

Soo-Jin

(1): BEAST is an actual K-pop band.