Miho the Killer
Chapter 53: Pockets?

Chapter 53: Pockets?

"So this one time, I went shopping with Miho and there really wasn’t something that suited her in the ladies’ clothes section."

"You went shopping with Miho? She put up with that?" Shin raised an eyebrow and shoved a spoon full of miso soup and rice into his mouth. We were eating at the restaurant in the basement of the mental hospital, but it was totally empty and it was just the old man and me.

"We had a good time actually, I’ll have you know." I made my point proudly.

"So what happened?"

"Well, the problem was that women’s clothes generally don’t have big pockets - if they had pockets at all! When they do, the pockets are often just ornamental. You couldn’t even fit a phone in there."

"Why do you think is that?"

"There are a few reasons for it. Traditionally, women carried handbags and purses. Goes back to 18th-century Europe I once read. Slim fits became fashionable and having things in the pockets does ruin the silhouette somewhat, I have to admit. But some people also think it’s a gender discrimination thing - women were not expected to ’need’ pockets if their men had them. Even the handbags used to be so small you couldn’t fit much in them. Women were just not expected to have possessions."

"Sounds like Miho would throw a fit if she heard that" Shin chuckled.

"I personally lean more toward the aesthetics theory though. Having bulging pockets really does ruin the nice body line"

"And it’s not good for people like us. We don’t want our tools to bulge out."

"Oh, that makes me wonder - how does Miho wear those suits and still look so good? I mean she’s also carrying, er... tools... right?"

"Well, there are certain tailors who specialize in this. You really need to have them tailor-cut with the consideration for accommodating tools yet concealing them."

"Miho gets her suits tailor-made?"

"Yeah, and so do I."

"That sounds great. Can I get one tailor-made too?" I was talking with my mouthful of Bibimbap. The mixed rice with vegetables tasted delicious with the kick of spiciness from the chilly paste and the fragrance of sesame oil.

"You don’t need one. And he doesn’t take regular customers."

"But you are a regular there."

"That’s not what I meant, you silly lady."

Shin picked up his bowl of miso soup and gulped down the remaining drops. I had better finish mine soon too so I could go upstairs and see Miho.

"But tell me-, I have been meaning to ask, and this probably should have been asked earlier - why are you so obsessed with Miho?"

"Gees, don’t make a girl say embarrassing things." I blushed. I think.

"I’m serious. I mean I appreciate you trying to help Miho, but why? You could have walked away - lived a normal life. I think I told you all this but you went out of your way to go crazy and get yourself mixed up with all this."

"Hmpf. It wasn’t my fault. It was Miho who barged into my life."

"How so?"

"Didn’t she tell you?"

"Not about how you guys met."

"I thought she would have."

"She’s not very talkative."

"Like a teenage daughter who wouldn’t talk to her father?" I quipped.

"She’s nothing like my daughter." That made Shin chuckle despite his protest.

"I could ask you the same question too, you know? How did you come to meet Miho?"

"It’s a long story."

"I’m all ears."

"Maybe better reserved for another time. And what I say may not be how Miho sees it. Maybe you should hear it from her."

"If only she would talk..."

"But she’s not much of a talker though. I told you."

"But you guys were talking so much when we first met and went for that barbeque! I felt so left out, you know?" I was scraping the bottom of my stone pot bowl for the last grains of rice. This was so good. It broke all my ’hospital food bad’ prejudice.

"We just had a lot to catch up back then. And she was in a good mood. I haven’t seen her in such a good mood for a long time."

"Well, in those days... we were having quite a good time. Happy days..." It made me feel nostalgic looking back at the short few weeks we lived together.

"What went wrong?"

"You barged in and caused some misunderstandings."

"Oh, please. I did no such thing."

"Well, whatever. I do concede I kind of assumed things a bit hastily too."

"Fair enough."

As I finished my meal too, we got up and headed to the cashier.

"I’ll pay this time," I announced to Shin.

"Oh?"

"I don’t want to freeload all the time."

"But that was part of the deal. I provide for your living expenses."

"Nah, it’s fine. I’m an independent woman."

"Sounds like you might need pockets."

"Haha. Tell me about it."

I paid 25,000 won for our meals - Shin’s miso soup was 11,000, my Stone Pot Rice Bibimbap was 13,000 - and walked toward the elevator.

"Hm, so what happened after you couldn’t find the right clothes for Miho?"

"Well, she wanted pockets. So we just had to go and get some men’s clothes."

"This discrimination is outrageous." Shin exaggerated and laughed.

"Then we went to have a cheesecake, and oh my, something happened there too."

"Oh?"

"Miho got in a little... altercation with some man who tried to jump the queue."

"Queue for what?"

"Well, we were trying to get into this dessert cafe for a cheesecake."

"Oh... is that the place that Miho asked me to get that cake for you?"

"Yes!"

"But wait... Miho waited in a queue to get in a dessert cafe?"

"We tried."

"She really, really indulges you."

"You think so?"

"The Miho I know would just say - Fuck this shit. I’m going somewhere else." This kinda made me feel special. I was happy.

"Things did get a bit weird though."

"How?"

"Oh yeah, about the big man I was talking about - so he tried to jump the queue and-"

"Haha. I see where this is going. Miho’s patiently waiting in a queue - probably at her limits - and someone tries to cut the line? Oh, boy! What was the damage?"

"His eye fell out of its socket."

Shin that burst out laughing. He was laughing so hard that there were tears in his eyes.

"That’s classic, CLASSIC Miho. Hahahaha. That girl’s something else."

I giggled as well, and as the elevator arrived, we got in and pressed the 4th floor to go see Miho.