In her previous life, Seoyeon was someone who couldn''t properly grasp her emotions—be it joy, sorrow, or any number of complex feelings.

    Naturally, this lack extended to certain aspects of her emotional spectrum, including matters of a sexual nature.

    "Th-this is supposed to be rated 15?"

    Seoyeon was practically in a state of culture shock. She had always been profoundly ignorant when it came to anything sexual, even in her previous life.

    No, it wasn''t that she didn''t know about it—she understood everything in theory. But she''d never had any personal exposure or experience.

    Even when she did encounter something suggestive, it was just that—something to see, without eliciting any particular feelings. At first, she''d tried to show interest in sexual matters, like the men around her, but even that had failed miserably.

    Afterward, she abandoned the idea entirely and lived without any interest in it, even after her rebirth.

    “Gyeongseong Lady” doesn’t have scenes that intense, but still...

    Seoyeon swallowed dryly as she finished watching a film filled with provocative imagery. Yet, instead of the movie’s plot, it was the script for Gyeongseong Lady that sprang to her mind.

    At least her character, Kasugayama Yuina, had very few such moments. At most, there were one or two? And even those scenes weren’t particularly noteworthy.

    Just some hand-holding or maybe brushing a shoulder—things like that.

    “Wait...”

    It was technically suitable for all ages, but depending on the performance, couldn’t those parts come across as more suggestive than intended? This thought struck Seoyeon as she continued watching the movie.

    “I see now why Jo Seohee wanted me to watch this.”

    The film unabashedly explored the feelings of love, making it impossible not to understand—even if you were an emotional novice like Seoyeon.

    A faint blush crept onto her cheeks, and she felt an odd flutter in her chest. Her fingertips and toes fidgeted as if they couldn’t stay still.

    Yet, despite the awkwardness, Seoyeon found herself completely engrossed. At some point, she became entirely absorbed in the film.

    +++

    “How was it?”@@@@

    Jo Seohee glanced at Seoyeon as they exited the theater. Though she exuded confidence, her gaze betrayed a flicker of nervousness.

    She’d made mistakes in the past, and no matter how great a film might be, personal taste was always subjective.

    From what Seohee had observed, Seoyeon tended to favor action movies. This preference stood in ironic contrast to the emotional and sentimental dramas she often starred in.

    "...”

    Seoyeon said nothing as she tossed the remaining popcorn into the trash and walked quietly beside Seohee.

    “Did she not like it?”

    Seohee’s lips twitched nervously. She’d thought this movie would be perfect for helping Seoyeon improve her romance acting. When Seohee first saw it, she had cried into a handkerchief the whole time. Even during this second viewing, her eyes had glistened with tears.

    The story of a woman helping her beloved end up with someone else—it was the epitome of bittersweet romance. What could be more fitting?

    “Action movies don’t focus much on romantic emotions,” Seohee thought. “Not ideal for studying feelings.”

    But if Seoyeon ended up finding the movie boring...

    Seohee stole a glance at the posters for upcoming films. A Japanese animated movie was playing in the theater next door. Maybe she could suggest that instead—its aesthetic even resembled what Seoyeon had worn while in Japan.

    Before she could voice her thoughts, Seoyeon spoke.

    “It was good.”

    “Huh?”

    “The movie... It was good.”

    Seoyeon’s voice was hesitant, almost as if admitting she enjoyed it was embarrassing.

    “What the—? She’s adorable.”

    Seohee thought to herself, caught off guard by Seoyeon’s rare display of vulnerability. Normally, Seoyeon was the picture of composure—a cool-headed beauty who barely let her expressions change. On variety shows, she could act like a playful puppy, but in everyday life, she remained reserved.

    Now, though, her face revealed a complex mix of emotions.

    “I just wish she’d stop being so formal with me.”

    Still, the important thing was that Seoyeon had enjoyed the film. Seohee straightened up, her confidence returning.

    “Of course! Did you think I’d recommend a bad movie?”

    “But, honestly, there were parts I didn’t fully understand.”

    Seoyeon wasn’t just being polite. She genuinely enjoyed the movie. In fact, she enjoyed most movies she watched—partly because she’d trained herself to find emotional depth in even the dullest films during her earlier acting days.

    Now, though, what mattered was how her own emotions had grown and changed.

    “I’ll have to watch it again later... Alone, of course. Not because of that one scene. Really.”

    “I get why the male lead was loved, but I don’t understand why the protagonist made that choice,” Seoyeon began, diving into her thoughts on the film.

    “Well, uh, how about we play some games? There’s an arcade nearby.”

    “An arcade?”

    Seoyeon’s interest visibly piqued, and she realized Seohee had been trying to accommodate her preferences.

    “Does she think I don’t like shopping?”

    In the past, that assumption would have been correct. The rebellious teenage Seoyeon had thought, Why bother with makeup? What’s fun about shopping? I’d rather work out instead.

    Even though things were different now, Lee Jiyeon still rarely invited Seoyeon shopping.

    “Seoyeon, you’re good at games, right? I’ve been trying out a bunch of games lately. They’re surprisingly helpful!” Seohee said with a sly smile.

    Games? That didn’t even need to be asked.

    “Yes, I’m very good,” Seoyeon replied confidently, her pride unmistakable.

    She was certain she’d win at anything. Seohee didn’t look like someone who frequented arcades anyway.

    “Fighting games are perfect for playing together,” Seohee suggested.

    “That’s true, but... I’ve never played one before. Is that okay?”

    “It’s fine. I’ll teach you,” Seoyeon said, puffing her chest with pride.

    “Of course, fighting games are all about learning by taking a beating.”

    Seoyeon inserted coins and sat across from Seohee.

    But she had forgotten one crucial detail: Seohee’s VTuber persona, Elise, was a variety game streamer—and recently, a highly skilled gamer.

    “Seoyeon...”

    “...?”

    “Should we maybe go somewhere else?”

    “No, the match isn’t over yet.”

    The match had ended ages ago, but Seohee couldn’t bring herself to say it.

    Despite her initial confidence, Seoyeon had been thoroughly demolished by Seohee in just five rounds.

    “This doesn’t make sense.”

    The first two rounds had seemed to favor Seoyeon, but everything changed in the third.

    Seoyeon, despite her excellent reflexes and quick reaction time, couldn’t keep up with Seohee’s meticulous strategy.

    “You have to memorize the frame data, not just react to the attacks.”

    “...Frame data?”

    “You didn’t know? I guess you don’t need to, but...”

    Seohee had assumed Seoyeon must already know about frame data based on how she played, but that wasn’t the case.

    Fighting games required reading the opponent’s movements, calculating frames, and countering appropriately.

    Seoyeon’s style, however, relied purely on reacting to what she saw—a method that worked surprisingly well for her.

    “Only Seoyeon could pull that off.” Seohee thought, both impressed and annoyed.

    “I should’ve just suggested shopping...” Seohee muttered, close to tears.

    By the end, Seoyeon had lost twice more.

    “Something’s wrong with this joystick,” Seoyeon grumbled, almost yanking it out in frustration.

    “I’d do better if I were in the game myself.”

    She was genuinely tempted to believe that.

    “Just one more round.”

    “Haven’t you been saying that for ten rounds now?” Seohee teased.

    “This time, I mean it. One last match.”

    Determined, Seoyeon decided to rely on her fastest move—a jab. No attack could beat it in speed.

    Just as she prepared to unleash her strategy, a familiar voice interrupted them.

    “Well, if it isn’t Jo Seohee.”

    Peeking around the arcade machine, Seoyeon saw a man waving enthusiastically at Seohee.

    “Isn’t that... the ‘medicated idol’?”

    It was Row, the leader of JustX. He greeted Seohee with a friendly wave and a beaming smile.