In Your Dreams (A DahMo Fanfic)

13: Up above

"How's it going with Ms. Kim?" Jihyo asks, hovering behind my desk. "Is she adjusting well here?"

"Yeah, she seems to be fitting in," I answer, scanning through other resumés to seem preoccupied.

"Really? Because when I saw her this morning, she seems to having trouble using her ID badge."

"Don't worry, I'll try to stick by her until she really gets the hang of things." She nods at me and returns back to her desk. Yes, nothing better than having legitimate excuses to be with the girl of my dreams.

"You should do that, Momo-ring. You're really good at taking care of Dahyun-ssi," Sana chimes in with a smirk on her face, and I immediately counter with a glare.

The thing is, Dahyun's been avoiding me like the plague the whole day. She'd get flustered when I'm around, which is weird since I'm not conducting any advancements for fear of retaliation. This makes me wonder what Dahyun did with the note I gave her, honestly.

Did she make it worse?! Ugh, I can't even concentrate on the simplest of tasks right now. Breathe, Momo. Give it some time and just hope for the best.

***

"Come on, I'm hungry," Sana whines as she peers from the door. "Let's try that new sushi bar next block." Ah yes, it's been a while since we had Japanese dishes.

As I step out, Mina approaches us...with Dahyun. Upon seeing me, Dahyun looks down, obviously uncomfortable.

"I make a great wingwoman, don't I?" Sana whispers. While, yes, I'd normally be giddy about this type of arrangement, Dahyun's expression makes me reconsider if this is actually a smart idea.

"Dahyun-ssi, I hope you like eating Japanese," Sana says, letting out a giggle. God, anyone can catch that innuendo, you flirt. Mina, to my surprise laughs sheepishly as well. Dahyun, on the other hand, bows curtly, averting my gaze.

***

Mina, Sana, and I immediately marvel at the restaurant's interior, as it's very reminiscent of hole-in-the-wall restaurants back home. You could easily tell that the staff's Japanese as well, based on how they converse with each other.

"A taste of home," Mina mutters, as Sana and I hum in agreement.

We go for the sushi boat—containing every sushi dish they have for sharing.

"Let's eat," Sana beams, splitting her chopsticks in half. The three of us—Japanese women—immediately take stabs at the boat as Dahyun watches.

"Here, this is good. You should try this," I say, handing over the glistening saba (mackerel) sushi to Dahyun. As a matter of fact, I excitedly bombard her plate with an assortment of raw fishes.

"Sunbaenim, please," Dahyun begs, staring at her plate before glaring at me. "I can manage myself." She then proceeds to eat with a stern expression about her. Sana and Mina immediately stop and look at her, their own silence noticeable, but resume with their own plates.

***

Dahyun gets up. "Thank you for the meal. I just..." she pauses to glance at me. "I got a text from my manager, so I have to head back. Excuse me," she says, before immediately heading out.

"What's with her?" Mina asks, a little offense taken in her tone.

"She seems hostile towards you," Sana states, looking at me. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing. I did nothing to her," I mutter, tapping my fingernail against the table.

That's it—it's over. Nothing happened in her subconscious. Wait, something did. It just made her more averse towards me.

How do you get over that? I know I could just go for actually getting to know this person, in the hopes of her developing feelings for me. But with the way we're going? I'd be lucky to have her ask me about her employment benefits.

I just want to sleep. At least she's there. She values me there. In my dreams.

***

Is it a cliché to hang out at the rooftop after work? There's just something about having the wind on your face, as you look over the city while the sun goes down.

Despite the serene backdrop, my thoughts circle back to one place: I wish we never met. Maybe my life would've been just peachy without her—her intoxicating grin, her over-the-top expressions, that damned smirk, and her blinding skin that could brighten everything around it. I wish I've never witnessed any of it. Maybe I wouldn't be such a mess right now. Maybe I'll be—

"6:15, okay." It's her voice—it's Dahyun. She steps out of the fire exit and walks slowly towards me with a hesitant look on her face.

"Dahyun-ssi...why are you here? Aren't you heading home?"

Dahyun bites her lip and puts both her hands, in an "I love you" symbol, beside her head and goes: "Nico nico niii." Immediately after doing so, she apologizes and covers her face.

Omo. She did it. "Perform the 'nico nico niii' at the rooftop at exactly 6:15 p.m.," I wrote in the note. She remembers.

"You...you know? I mean...you remembered?" I say, my body trembling, fighting the lump in my throat and the welling of my eyes.

She pouts, her eyes nearing tears as well, and nods. "I'm sorry, it's a lot to take in, but yes, I rem—"

Before she finishes, I rush over and lock her in an embrace so tight, for fear that this might be another dream.

But it's not—her scent, her soft skin...it's exactly how I imagined it. This is all real.