Twenty Questions
Trouble in Paradise"Eh, whatever," is Himchan's snotty reply.
My fingers twitch, and I want to swing my fist into his face, but I stop myself.
Taking a seat at the nearest empty park bench, my main goal of why I'm taking him out, settles itself down in my mind once more. And as this happens, I start to worry, because I've noticed that he really can’t seem to remember any of the shops in his surroundings.
Maybe it’s still too early in the process, for his mind to piece the missing sections together?
Well, since seeing doesn’t seem to be enough, there has to be another way.
And as I continue to think more about this, a new idea forms in my head. “Okay,” I speak up, while turning towards him; “How about we play twenty questions?”
Himchan blinks at me, “Twenty questions?”
I give him a nod. “Yeah,” I answer. “Forcing you to remember isn’t working so well, so I think if you just answer whatever I ask you without you thinking too much, your mind might naturally respond, and that could somehow help you?”
“Oh,” says Himchan, with a thoughtful nod. “That’s not a bad idea, let’s try it!”
His willingness surprises for a second, but then I push that away, and try to think of something to ask him. My eyes land on a couple in the distance, who are walking their little white fluffy dog (which strangely has its tail dyed a bright blue), and I have my first question.
“Cats or dogs?” I blurt out.
Himchan responds automatically; “Cats.”
The look on his face shows me that he’s surprised by his instant reply, and I feel a glitter of hope within me.
We're finally moving, somewhere!
"Yeah, you've always liked cats," I casually lie.
He shrugs, “I guess so. Actually, now that I think of it, yeah; cats are so much better than dogs.”
“Psh,” I flick my wrist at him in a careless manner, “No way, dogs are a lot better.”
Not liking my response, Himchan then crosses his arms together. “But cats give you cuddles!” he reasons, with a frown.
“Dogs can too, and on top of that, they always come back to you,” I proudly say. “I like loyalty.”
“But cats come back to you, too,” he attempts, to defend.
I shake my head, “Not unless they find someone better.”
Himchan grumbles, “Whatever, next question.”
I snicker at his loss, and continue on.
So for the next half an hour or so, our twenty questions turn into a get-to-know-each-other-more session.
I didn’t think we could get so off topic easily, but then again, with Himchan’s quirky remarks, and how he tends to dramatize a lot of things, it’s not surprising at how there are barely any dull replies. Our questions range from our favourite colours, to how cooked we like our meat. He seems to really like chicken, while I’m more of a beef person, and surprisingly, we both love fish, especially salmon.
After sharing our likes, we soon gradually move onto our dislikes, and some of the little pet peeves that instinctively slipped out of him, had me laughing, because they're so ridiculous.
I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who has such a hatred for wet socks and sleeves.
“Oh, you know what else I really don’t like?” he perks up.
I give him an exaggerated eye-smile, “Your face?”
“Yeah, I—hey!” He furrows his eyebrows at me, “My face is a prized possession, and you should be honoured to be this close to it!”
I roll my eyes, but smile anyway. “Yeah yeah,” I dismissively say, and then steer him back on track. “So what else don’t like?”
We’re on a role with this, I can’t let him get distracted now.
“Sprinkles!” exclaims Himchan, with a huff.
Taken aback, my eyes widen slightly, as I gasp. “No way, me too!” I agree, in astonishment.
My friends have always thought that my dislike towards sprinkles was (and is) odd. But what they fail to understand is that these rainbow dots (or rectangles) might be cute and ‘fun’ to add to cupcakes and whatnot, but I just can't help but find them to be so pointless to eat.
“I especially don’t like them on ice cream,” he declares.
“Ohhh, I know what you mean,” I say, while squinting my eyes together to show my dislike towards the editable dots. “They make the ice cream all weird and bumpy.”
“I know!” Himchan agrees, and then clicks his tongue; “It’s so uncomfortable.”
I shake my head at him in amusement, as he continues to pout and grumble at the thought of sprinkles.
So far, all I’ve managed to gather is that he likes chicken, and has quite a taste for Japanese food, especially for sushi and sashimi. He also seems to be drawn to the colours of red, black, and gold, and is so whiney and demanding, that it makes me wonder what he use to do for a living. He’s such an odd person, and as pointless as these little aspects seem to be, I feel as though we’re onto something; it’s very slow, but I have a feeling that we’ll get there with his memory loss.
After a while of more talking, I then get up to give my legs a stretch. “Hey, let’s go and get some bubble tea,” I say, while motioning for him to get up.
Himchan gives me a weird look. “Why would you want bubble in your tea?" he asks, with an arched eyebrow. "I like mine detergent free, thanks.”
Now it’s my turn to have a perplexed expression on my face. “You…don’t know what bubble tea is…?” I slowly ask.
Due to Himchan’s lack of response, I take that as a ‘no’, and then begin to shake my head at him.
He frowns at me, asking if it was some type of ‘code’, and I let out a sigh. “Come on,” I beckon, “Let me show you.”
Himchan springs up from his seat, and then follows me, all while shooting a gazillion questions about this ‘soapy tea’ that I want him to drink, and then somehow comes to the conclusion that I’m trying to kill him. At first, I go along with it, agreeing that my intention is to murder him without him knowing, and he lets out a melodramatic gasp.
“Yah, what is wrong with you?!” he yells, and then adds; “I’m a very rare species, so you have to treasure me!”
I try my best to block out the rest of his crazy complaining, and during our walk there, he stops, suddenly pulling me back, which brings a wave of surprise to wash over me.
“Yejin-ah, look!” chirps Himchan, as he points towards something.
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