Chapter 36: Comic book window (4)

Part 8

With the apron tied, I stood at the POS machine. Naturally, I knew nothing about baking, so my role was strictly customer-facing: basic transactions, guiding people to specific items, retrieving goods from the display case, or occasionally explaining products when asked.

Youngjin’s mom mentioned that once I got the hang of things, helping with product displays would be great, but that was for later. For now, my goals were mastering the POS system and memorizing item locations. Her voice was encouraging, and I responded with a light smile and a casual tone.

“Sounds pretty straightforward.”

“It’s fine during quiet hours, but sometimes it gets so busy two people can’t handle it~” she said, chuckling.

Come to think of it, Youngjin wasn’t always here, so it was usually just the two of them running the shop. They didn’t bake a day’s worth of bread in advance but restocked as items sold out. Managing both the kitchen and counter during a rush with just two people must be tough.

“You can sit and relax when there are no customers! It’s probably quiet until lunch…” she added.

“No, no, I’m not tired… I’ll use the downtime to memorize item locations.”

I just didn’t want to look idle right off the bat, but she immediately praised my diligence, saying she wished Youngjin were as dedicated. I nearly blurted out, I’m not that diligent, but swallowed it with an awkward smile and stepped away from the counter. Truthfully, I’d need some effort to avoid fumbling.

I’d assumed a small family shop would have fewer items, but nope—roughly 50 types by my quick count. Memorizing them all in ten minutes was impossible. The chiffon cakes alone were split into nut-filled, fruit-topped, and chocolate-infused varieties, which helped categorize things, but even then, the sheer volume was daunting. How did they prepare this much every morning?

“…Maybe I don’t need to memorize every detail.”

Donuts here, bread loaves there, snacks over there. The refrigerated case by the counter held milk, cakes, and other perishables. I walked the aisles, prioritizing the popular items Youngjin’s mom had pointed out, noting their spots. The soft, sweet aroma wafting from the displays lifted my mood just by looking.

“By the way, do you eat bread for lunch since it’s a bakery?”

“Hmm, well, when it’s too busy for delivery? Usually delivery food or convenience store bentos,” she replied.

“…That’s kinda sad.”

Scratching my cheek, I scanned the shop again. The hall, maybe 20 pyeong, wasn’t small. Warm, bread-colored lighting and packed displays gave it a cozy, inviting feel, yet the owners were eating convenience store meals in the back.

“Still, it’s fun in its own way. I fell for his bread-making and married him, after all,” she said.

“Oh, so you didn’t start baking…”

“Nope. I only got into it after we married, a while later.”

From the kitchen, I faintly heard Youngjin and his dad talking—probably prepping dough for later. Judging by the tone, Youngjin had messed something up and was getting an earful.

“…They’re pretty different, personality-wise, aren’t they?” I said.

“Hehe, wonder how we ended up married, right? We fought a ton back then~”

I shifted my gaze from the display to her. It felt more like she was filling the quiet than saying anything profound, but it’d be rude to multitask during a real conversation.

“You said you fell for his baking, so did you meet at a bakery?”

“Not this one, no. He was still working under someone else back then…”

I was heading back to the counter, a bit nervous but resigned, when—

Ding

“Why not just get a croquette?”

“I’m paying, so I should pick!”

They weren’t in uniforms, but their youthful faces and backpacks screamed students. High school freshmen? Maybe third-year middle schoolers? Either way, they were taller than me, which brought a belated pang of dejection.

I used to be pretty tall…

“Paying’s ‘cause you lost the bet. Picking’s a group decision—”

“Welcome!” I cut in.

My feelings were one thing; work was another. Swallowing the hollow ache, I greeted them as trained—probably the same way I’d act meeting a stranger normally—with a light smile. My first customers, a meaningful moment. I tried to keep my expression and movements polished, glancing toward the entrance—

“…Uh.”

Awkward silence. A short, stifled sound.

“…Huh?”

Another ding followed. The two students froze, staring at me. In a blink, they backpedaled out of the shop. I stood rigid, unsure how to react.

“Hehehe… hff…” Youngjin’s mom’s stifled laughter, barely contained, sounded distant and wistful.

“Guess your image was too much for the kids…”

I really don’t want to know about that.

Part 9

[Yo, have you ever seen Cheungjeokun’s sister in a skirt?] – Anonymous

• Went to a local bakery today, and Nunabbattajo was working there in a uniform; didn’t notice in pants, but her legs are crazy thin.
  ┕ Anonymous: Agro blocked.
  ┕ Anonymous: Lie better, dude lolol.
  ┕ Anonymous: If Cheungjeokun shared even a bit of his earnings, she could live like a billionaire. Why work at a bakery lolol.
  ┕ Anonymous (OP): No, it was really her. No way another golden-haired, angelic high-school-girl-vibe exists;;
  ┕ Anonymous: Did you talk to her?
  ┕ Anonymous (OP): Made eye contact and bolted lolol ran straight to cram school.
  ┕ Anonymous: Jammin confirmed, agro for sure lol.
  ┕ Anonymous: Drop the bakery address. I’ll check myself.
  ┕ Anonymous (OP): Linked in the post, go ahead.
  ┕ Anonymous: So far away.
  ┕ Anonymous: ? 30-min drive. I’m going to check lol, saved your IP. If it’s fake, you’re done.
  ┕ Anonymous: Driving 30 mins on a weekday to chase a streamer… how’s your life, bro?

Part 10

“Goodbye!”

“Thanks! Keep up the good work!”

Another customer left, barely hiding their grin. Finally, a lull. Exhausted, I slumped into the chair tucked discreetly behind the counter. How many had it been since those kids ran off?

“Your shop’s doing too well,” I said.

“Back in its prime, we had two people on the floor,” Youngjin replied.

I’d expected maybe one or two customers an hour, but this place was busier than I thought. Someone came every ten minutes, leaving no time to rest. When four or five showed up at once, even bagging bread felt rushed. If Youngjin’s mom hadn’t helped, I’d rather not imagine the chaos.

“Already tired…” I muttered.

Glancing at Youngjin, now manning the counter, I leaned back, letting my body sag. Checking my phone during the brief breather, it was just past 11 a.m. I’d texted my parents I might get busy, but no reply yet.

“Knocked out after two hours?” Youngjin teased.

“My body’s not exactly robust…” I whined.

My pitiful tone earned a snicker. I glared, narrowing my eyes, but it clearly wasn’t intimidating.

“What a baby. Maybe you’re not cut out for this.”

“Shut up…”

“Post-lunch is twice as busy as morning. You holding up?”

“Ughhh…”

Just hearing it drained me. My face must’ve twisted comically, because Youngjin burst into a loud “Hahaha!” Even without a mirror, I knew I looked pale as death.