Shopping Is War

Once the small-group discussions wrapped up and everyone reconvened to pool their opinions, the camping spot was decided — the Yangpyeong Campsite Ju-ri had suggested.

Next came dividing up the roles.

"I'll handle the campsite reservation. I should probably do the treasurer duties as well."

"Isn't that too much work for the club president?"

"The thing is, I can't cook to save my life. Could someone take on the cooking?"

"I'll do the cooking. I've done camp cooking a few times."

"I'll help with cooking too. We'll need charcoal and ingredients as well."

"Right. Then who's doing the grocery run?"

Ju-ri scanned the remaining roles laid out in a long line across the whiteboard.

Recreation coordinator? What on earth is that supposed to be.

Grocery shopping seemed like the best option among them. Whether it was window shopping or actual shopping, she loved shopping in any form, so a grocery run was the easiest gig of the lot.

"I'll do it."

Ju-ri raised her hand.

"Okay, got it — thank you, you two."

Min-seok scrawled on the whiteboard.

……?

Ju-ri turned her head and saw Geon-joo with his hand halfway raised.

"Ah, then I'll join the grocery team too!"

A beat too late, Joo-won thrust his hand into the air.

Han Geon-joo and… Oh Joo-won?

Ju-ri's mind went blank for a moment.

"We don't need three."

Geon-joo's voice followed, flat but razor-sharp.

"Right. Let's leave the groceries to those two — Joo-won, why don't you take the recreation coordinator role? From what I can see, you'd be great at it."

"R-Recreation coordinator, me?"

Joo-won looked at Ju-ri as if begging her to save him. She turned her head and pretended not to notice.

Fine. Han Geon-joo was better than Oh Joo-won. Wait, no — was he? This was like choosing between a fruit fly and a centipede. Centipede over fruit fly, right? Han Geon-joo was the lesser evil. Barely.

Geon-joo clenched his fists on his knees. Behind his thick, high-prescription lenses, his eyes bore into the two names written side by side on the whiteboard.

Shin Ju-ri. Han Geon-joo.

Their names, side by side, are glowing.

Why am I even here?

He felt as out of place as a man wearing clothes that didn't fit. And yet applying to join the club, stepping into this social club cafe — every bit of it had been his own choice. An impulsive act, wholly unlike himself, born from a conversation he'd overheard in the elevator.

It's creepy.

Imagine how creeped out she'd be if she learned he'd followed her here after eavesdropping. Even he found himself repulsive thinking about it.

And still, he had gone and raised his hand for the grocery run.

"Haah…."

He let out a deep sigh. As his aura of gloom thickened, the people seated around him began quietly scooting their chairs away.

Screech.

As a bright red car pulled into the hypermarket parking lot, heads turned among the shoppers trundling their carts along. Once for the color, twice for the face behind the wheel, and a third time for the logo of a famous designer brand.

Tap.

The car door swung open and Ju-ri stepped out. A hot pink knit tee that clung to her body and a pair of slacks set off her slender figure to full effect. She tilted her face up toward the sky. Beneath a sky without a single cloud, the warmth of the world came pouring down to earth. She pulled out her sunglasses and tucked one arm of them into her pocket.

"Mmm, gorgeous weather."

Perfect camping weather, no question.

Vroom.

Another car rumbled into the parking lot with a rough engine growl. Ju-ri turned her head without thinking, checked the driver, and her brow twitched. From a battered old SUV — whether the windows were tinted was anyone's guess, since the interior was in plain view — a scruffy bespectacled man climbed out.

Lenses flashing with reflected light.

Lips set in a flat, unsmiling line.

Clothes that couldn't have cared less what anyone thought.

Hmm….

Her mood, which had climbed straight into the stratosphere thanks to the weather, wobbled and dipped.

Ju-ri frowned at a patch of peeling paint below the SUV's driver-side door. It had been left that way so long that a hint of rust had already crept in. The thing had to be at least twelve years old.

Ugh, come on. At least get it repainted. How much could that possibly cost?

A developer at our company should be pulling in a salary with nine zeroes on it.

…Fine. To put it charitably, he's frugal.

A thrifty nature that didn't indulge in luxury — of course that was a virtue.

A virtue, and yet….

"You timed it perfectly."

"Yes."

As Geon-joo drew near, his enormous shadow stretched across the asphalt.

He's taller than I thought.

The gloomy loner looked exactly as he had at the office, down to the millimeter. The bird's-nest bedhead she'd seen on her way in, a plaid shirt that had clearly been bought in bulk like a uniform, glasses so thick and round they were almost confrontational….

The combination left a scratch across Ju-ri's aesthetic sensibilities. She rubbed her eyes.

"Are you feeling unwell?"

Ju-ri shook her head awkwardly.

"Shall we head in? I made a list of everything we need to buy."

She strode off toward the entrance at a brisk clip, as though being chased.

Grab what we need and hit the road for the campsite. Fast.

Thirty minutes should do it, right?

It's already this late?

When Ju-ri checked her phone's clock, her eyes narrowed sharply. They hadn't even gotten through half the list, and this was the time?

To be fair, shopping could easily stretch to three hours if you let it — but with a clear list of things to buy, thirty minutes was entirely doable. And all they were buying was camping food. Pork, mushrooms, a reasonable amount of snacks, beer, and soju — that was the whole of it.

So why was this taking so long?

"This one is far cheaper than that."

"…This one's already cheap, and you're saying there's cheaper?"

Because of you, I already picked the cheapest one. There's something cheaper than this?

Having gone for the best value picks early on while choosing the pork and snacks, Ju-ri could hardly believe her ears.

Geon-joo pointed at the price tag on the beer. There was something oddly proud, almost triumphant, about the gesture — it made the back of Ju-ri's neck ache. Then she saw the price and her eyes went round. A bundled six-pack of small cans, a mere 5,640 won. Less than a thousand won a can. Wait, why was this so cheap?

"It is… cheap."

"Isn't it?"

"But shouldn't taste matter too? Have you actually tried it?"

"Yes. It's not bad."

And with that, he hoisted an entire box of beer off the bottom shelf and dropped it into the cart. Ju-ri stared at the crate now squatting in the cart, unimpressed.

It had been the same with the pork.

"This one's better. Look at this. See how the fat is reddish? That's a no. When the fat goes red, it means it's old — it smells gamey and tastes terrible. And it's more expensive on top of that. But this one here, the fat's white and the meat is a nice red, right? That means it's fresh. And the price isn't bad for the quantity, either."

"Even so, this is the only cut they have of the specialty part."

"Still no. It'll taste awful."

The snacks had gone the same way. Frustration boiled up in both of Ju-ri's cheeks as her choices got vetoed again and again.

"Han Geon-joo… you're being awfully assertive."

Assertive where it doesn't count.

"…I just hoped it would help."

Ju-ri flinched at the quiet answer. She looked at Geon-joo anew, searching his face.

Is he serious?

The shopping cart was now packed with items that had survived her back-and-forth battles with Geon-joo. Judging by a rough estimate of the prices, the total would come out to about two-thirds of what she'd expected to spend.

…Impressive.

Not my style, but impressive.

As she came out from the checkout, a cafe inside the hypermarket caught Ju-ri's eye.

"Geon-joo, do you like coffee? It's hot out, so I was thinking fresh fruit juice."

"I like coffee."

"Wait here, then."

With a single nod, Ju-ri walked off, her long legs eating up the distance.

"……?"

Having ordered their drinks at the cafe, she came back to where Geon-joo stood.

"The campsite's a good hour away, so have a coffee for the drive."

"Oh… thank you."

"Don't mention it. It's just a cup of coffee."

Ju-ri smiled warmly. Right. Even if the guy rubbed her the wrong way, there was no need to be petty about it. When you considered how much a small kindness like this could smooth out a relationship between people, wasn't this the very definition of a cost-effective bribe?

He clearly doesn't like me, going by the look of him.

Not that it mattered much whether he liked or disliked her — she just didn't want things to be uncomfortable between them. Awkwardness was exhausting.

"One iced Americano and one strawberry latte!"

"Oh, drinks are up."

The instant she turned toward the cafe, Geon-joo brushed swiftly past her. All that remained where he'd been standing was the abandoned shopping cart.

Wow, he's fast.

Geon-joo was back in no time with the two drinks in hand.

"Thanks."

When she said it with a smile, Geon-joo averted his gaze and held out the strawberry latte to her.

"Do you like sweet drinks?"

"Huh? Oh, no — I usually drink Americanos. This was a sudden craving. Let's go, we need to load up."

Geon-joo pushed the shopping cart, and Ju-ri walked alongside him, taking a long pull of the strawberry latte. The moment the pink drink touched her tongue, her face scrunched up.

Ugh, sweet.

She'd of course bought it expecting a certain level of sweetness, but this was sweeter than even that. Maybe this particular branch just went heavy on the syrup, or maybe her palate had gotten hypersensitive from cutting out sugary stuff lately — she had no way of knowing.

Ju-ri took another sip. The sweetness took over her entire mouth. Just before they passed through the mart's glass doors, she set the cup down on top of a trash can with a soft plop.

Thud.

Geon-joo stopped dead in the middle of pushing the cart.

"What did you just do?"