Minho doesn’t like complaining about his problems, but with Jisung it’s still unbelievably easy, and Minho doesn’t even notice how, together with the robot, he manages to thoroughly gossip about all his professors and Changbin, who’s gotten unbearably brazen.

Jisung isn’t just a good listener, but also an endless generator of stupid jokes, and by the end Minho is practically lying on the table, hiding his nose in his sleeve so he won’t laugh so loudly.

Being with Jisung feels good.

Minho tries with all his might not to think about how this is kind of… not very healthy.

And how it’s starting to resemble some episode of Black Mirror.

But if they make robots like this, then someone gave permission for it, and doesn’t consider it abnormal to have heart-to-heart talks with an originally soulless machine, right? And idiots aren’t allowed to make decisions like that.

So everything is fine with Minho. It’s just that this exhibition is so stupid that the only thing to do here is hang out with Jisung.

If they fixed the VR zone, Minho would be loitering there the whole time.

And not discussing this nonsense.

“You can forget about the VR,” there’s such a soft laugh in Jisung’s voice that Minho catches the smile spreading across his face at the last second. “Some kid got really scared of a pixel shark, started running while still wearing the headset, and slammed into the wall. The kid was fine, but the headset is completely done for. And no one’s planning to fix it, which is sad. But on the other hand, the show was worth it—I’m actually glad I saw it in person.”

Minho rolls his eyes, because Jisung is talking absolute nonsense, and sticks his tongue out because the nonsense is also very clearly mocking.

“As if you saw it,” Minho understands that this is all a performance meant to make his mind believe Jisung is human and not a machine, but still decides to nitpick. “You can’t see that hall from here. Don’t lie.”

Jisung goes silent for a moment, and then draws out something in response that’s almost eerie.

“You know,” Minho feels like he can hear gears turning in the robot’s brain, Jisung’s voice is that thoughtful, “I saw it because… because I’m connected to the security cameras and can see the entire hall. There.”

Jisung sounds a little too pleased with himself, but that’s understandable—Minho would be happy too if he were a damn all-seeing machine.

To be honest, Minho even feels a little jealous.

“Right,” it comes out way too displeased, and Minho winces at himself. “You still haven’t told me what time it is in Tokyo, by the way. And I’m waiting. Otherwise I’ll leave a bad review and they’ll send you back for revisions.”

That’s right—he needs to show the damn machine who’s in charge here. Minho is still a representative of the most advanced species on this planet. Even if he isn’t connected to any cameras.

That, apparently, doesn’t quite register with Jisung. Because he sounds downright lazy.

“Oh no, I’m terrified,” there’s some kind of rustling and something like a knock coming from the speaker. “It’s almost two in the afternoon in Tokyo right now. Same as here.”

Minho probably should’ve asked why “here” for a Japanese robot is Seoul, but the realization that he’s late for work hits him over the head far too hard and suddenly.

Minho only manages to blurt out “shit, I’ve gotta go” before springing up from the chair.

Minho understands that all of this is nonsense, and he curses his parents ten times over for raising him too well when he pauses for a second by the exit and, under the openly shocked gaze of the guy at the register, waves at the camera.

He didn’t say goodbye to Jisung properly, after all. Well, at least Han will see this.

It doesn’t matter that he’s a robot and probably doesn’t care—Minho is still human, and should behave decently.

Or at least try to.

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