“Let’s settle on some rules first, though,” said Jisoo, turning to face him in the Fiction aisle. They were supposed to film something for Inkigayo, but it suddenly started raining. They, and the rest of the film crew, ducked into a bookshop to keep dry. At this point, there was nothing they could do except wait for the rain to stop. 

Jinyoung didn’t mind. He loved bookshops. Although he and Jisoo had grown closer since Daejeon, he still sometimes felt burdened by small talk and aimless conversation. With books, however, he didn’t need to feign interest. There was no shortage of things to talk about. Out of the blue, Jisoo had suggested a game, to see which of them was the better-read idol.

“Rule number one,” she said, holding up one finger. “Tell the truth. Rule number two: fiction books and authors of fiction only.”

“Alright,” he said, smirking. Jisoo was walking at a snail’s pace through the shop, gently running her hand over random covers.

“Rule number three,” she said. “You can only name books that you’ve also already read. If I find a book that I’ve read and you haven’t, you lose, and you have to buy that book and read it.”

That’s the penalty? Jinyoung scoffed. That wasn’t a penalty at all. He was already planning on buying a book anyway. He thought he’d humor her.

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll play along.”

“Ready?”

“Bring it on.”

“You first.”

“Alright, let’s go with an easy one,” he reached over took a book from the shelf, handed it to her. “Haruki Murakami.”

It was The Wind-up Bird Chronicle. Jisoo flipped through the pages. “I’ve read him,” Jisoo said. “Lately I think he’s become a victim of his own success.”

Jinyoung tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“His earlier works like Norwegian Wood and Kafka on the Shore were tour de forces of the magical realism genre and they established him as a serious writer,” Jisoo said. “But I think his newer works read a little purposefully esoteric. Blocks readers out, makes them feel dumb for not understanding. They read like bad pastiches of his past works.” 

“And critics are too afraid of calling down disdain from his fanbase to call him out when he produces a bad book?”

“Exactly,” Jisoo replaced the book on the shelf and then grabbed one from a nearby table. “Okay, your turn. Andy Weir’s The Martian?”

Jinyoung took the book from her and smiled down fondly at the orange cover.

“I read it, and I loved it,” he said. “Amazing book. Handles a really complicated topic in a way that makes it humorous and approachable even for laymen readers.”

“Also a good deal experimental,” Jisoo said. “Does a lot of things that people typically don’t think a novel is able to do.”

“Kazuo Ishiguro,” Jinyoung said.

“Did you know he won the Nobel Prize in Literature this year?”

“You think he deserved it?”

“Completely. Although I feel bad for Murakami. Every year, people think it’ll finally be his year, but then he gets skipped. But back to Ishiguro. His writing tends to be sparse, but somehow he’s able to evoke profound emotion. It’s almost lyrical in its simplicity. Keigo Higashino.”

“I love Higashino.”

“We’re on the same brain wave, you and I,” Jisoo winked, and his heart skipped a beat. “I’ve read everything he’s written.”

“Me, too,” he stammered. “I think what I admire most about him is how he’s able to spin a mystery without relying on the usual psych thriller gimmicks like blood and gore. Goes to show that all you really need to make a good mystery novel is compelling characters. What about this one?”

He took a lime green book from a table and held it up to her. Jisoo nodded.

“Me, and Earl, and the Dying Girl? I read it on a plane once,” she said. “It’s a fun book! Handles a tough topic. It’s also interesting how the author bends the rules of novel-writing and writes entire chapters in a different format but somehow is able to make it blend seamlessly with the rest of the prose. Also, can’t deny that it’s hilarious. What about Lolita?”

Jinyoung grimaced.

“Uhh… yeah, I read it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess the actual writing in the book was noteworthy, but personally I think the heavy focus on ia virtually cancels out any literary merit that the book might have. How long does this game go on?”

“Until you los